do you wanna know where the dreams come from?

Fri, 19 Jun 2009 12:57:04 GMT

Out of woman comes a man
spends the rest of his life getting back when he can...

Fri, 19 Jun 2009 12:54:02 GMT

I have sought for You, yearned for You, allowed all my actions to be guided by Your will.... and in the end You have always disappointed.

Fri, 19 Jun 2009 12:49:18 GMT

What's your favorite thing to show out-of-town guests when they come to visit?

Submitted By mercyb

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Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children.

Wed, 18 Mar 2009 22:10:56 GMT

How do you define greatness?

omake

Tue, 23 Dec 2008 17:25:21 GMT

Who: chet_thanh_pho!Walter, cof_interzone!Walter... will you add here? if so, Fakir (harddays_knight) and Princess Rue (ruesravenblood) as well...
Why: Since this post is relative to both Chet and forestcradle I figured I'd just put it up here...
What: Freed from Sae by Ai, aware of the BZ fogging at the encampment, Walter hears the music meant for his future self, the dance Rue and Fakir are doing for him.

Walter's walking between the worlds.

he knows it, too, knows he's probably dreaming. This happened with Sae, but Sae is gone now. Undone.

Terrible pity. She had been... oh, there weren't enough words to describe the amazing things they had done together. Sex, yes, let's not forget about the sex. He hadn't 'known' many women, preferring to keep himself pure and clean, all the better to prepare himself for the Order's rituals, but he was by far no innocent. Still. The mysterious Asian woman had shown him things he would never have dreamed of asking from Claudia, or any of the college co-eds he had bedded.

Moreso tho, she admired the strength of his arms for other more sinister purposes. Told him how she liked the way he wielded a blade.

Took him places where he could indulge the fantasies he had held in for so long.

In her world the ghosts wailed and the dead bodies trembled in horror at the sound of her footfall. She was like Alessa there, he knew, in the village from which she had come. Feared. Revered.

He liked the idea of having such godlike powers.

But...apparently Sae would have taken that from him, rather than giving it him. Who knew? Apparently he was born of some potential. Of some sort of particular fate. And now?

Nothing would stop him from achieving it.

It felt nice to know he was destined for greatness, anyway.

Walter loved the jungles of VietNam, and he was going to miss them. He still had no idea how he gotten into them, but he had been there awhile now. His survival skills, born of necessity in his time in the water tower, refined in the Silent Hill woods and on the streets of Ashfield, did him proud in the place. The villagers in the nearby market were afraid of him in ways they were no mere American soldier.

They thought he was a ghost.

He knew he was a ghost, at least what passed for a ghost in their superstitions. Still. Walking amongst them he could take what he liked, as they wanted nothing to do with what he had that might pass for payment, believing the village near where he stayed to be haunted, cursed. Surely he too was cursed for touching what was in it, for sleeping within its confines.

In order to not have the same curse befall them they took care of him.

As a result he had learned a little of the language. He picked up languages quickly- had he not written all his diaries in Enochian? and learned the rituals of the Order, though some of them were written in rovásírás.

He knew even as he walked peacefully by, through the people around him that something terrible had happened in the village, and he also knew it would not affect him.

He had other business.

Was that music he heard? It was. Boldly, he walked out of that place, out of that time, towards the music.

It was better to leave this way. He knew his friends were scrambling like ants to enter the tiny tunnels of Củ Chi. But he? Had something to see, plainly.

A dance to dance, perhaps.
---

Sun, 28 Sep 2008 02:23:06 GMT

There are so many cardiac and vascular diseases, and he only covered the most common. I did a lot more 'try(ing) to understand the whole picture' instead of just memorizing, since the doc is always emphasizing the importance of understanding, versus memorizing for the sake of memorizing.

Sometimes I miss basic things though, you know. Like...building. The work over at the bowling alley? I think I did pretty well with what little I had. I enjoy the hard work. What I miss is... is ... is very hard to define. At the end of each shift I took a little piece of perfection would exist because of my hands, my mind, my skill. But don't get me wrong here. I know how boastful that sounds. I am honored to be allowed to create. This is not something I chose. No .....I was.... I know it sounds somehow weird and wrong, but it chose me. It humbled me.

I guess I helped those people who were staying there a bit too, and that was nice in its way.

So many reasons to say Please.

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 16:26:26 GMT

The romantically inclined- I too always perceived them as weak. I guess I think now that I was wrong, for even if not the strongest, who is the bravest warrior- the one that goes forth triply re-enforced in armor they have surmized to be impervious, or the one who rides out with his heart shining on his sleeve, the one who rides out actually having something to protect?

I hear it, I know it too, even to an extent- how nauseating. I have never had a taste for heroes, except as easy victims- those who will die first for a cause. Take me, not my love they cry and I, being the dubious villain fate has made me to be, would usually try to take both.

But in the end who isn't a victim? Even the hardest heart can grow weary of its lonely, imprisoning crust. Even the strongest arms grow weaker when time and too many battles have had their way.

And who then dies cleaner, dies easier, heads to a brighter paradise?

Yes. I get it. This is sickening. But I've grown old, and I've grown sick of being my mother's assassin. I have lost the taste for the wetwork she had given me as my portion.

This town is filled with people who are empty shells, and that's the point, isn't it? You're here for the Judgement. Here to be judged. You almost welcome the moment She will suck out what's left of you like oysters lined up before the Walrus and the Carpenter.

Maybe you're just longing to be known and appreciated in those last moments. To hear Her smack Her noble lips in satisfaction, die knowing that for that brief time you gave Her something She could love.

Empty shells driven... maybe you have that one, last good thing you do oh so well- solve the puzzle. Heal the dying. Rock the rollers. And so you're waiting for the big gig, the farewell performance.

Why? Because in your heart of hearts you know what made you unique also never made you whole, satisfied.

I have a chance now. Someone I want to be with. Someone who might- just might- get me through the darkness.

Someone worth dying for.

Deal with it.

Fri, 29 Aug 2008 07:55:54 GMT

wondering why i am the way i am; broken.

once obtrusive scars now seem delicate.

if you want something badly enough, you will make it happen. make the sacrifices...if i choose to 'love' will my heart not break?

and if i choose not to...

my heart will break as well. i don't...understand... how can i wish for this?? so many wounds...still opened...

heal. just. heal.

many more to come i am sure. there are always sirens here. the stories are rarely quiet. when they are, the silence moves her...

Mother. is She what i want now? i don't. i don't.

dying at this time isn't wise. it isn't safe here anymore. i want to get her- her out.

but i never wanted out before... this place is my home.

fra·gil·i·ty -The quality or state of being easily broken or destroyed.

interesting quality in others...not so much when it pertains to me though.

Tue, 12 Aug 2008 23:46:14 GMT

Well. That one didn't last very long. I think I may have set a new record on dying so soon after coming back.

As soon as I've worked the rigor mortis out, I shall return.
-----------
Private to Otis
I am between the worlds. Do you wish me to try to remove the children? I'm sure it would pose no difficulty for me.
/private
------------

It used to trouble me. It doesn't so much now. I think I've become used to it. I do have to wonder if there is a capper on how many times. I guess I'm not curious enough to mock the gods and see where my cut off point is.

I guess you could say I enjoy 'life' too much.

So. Anyone miss me?

Thu, 19 Jun 2008 19:43:25 GMT

Well, Microbiology wasn't all bad last night... the lab on aspetic techniques, bacterial slide smears & methane blue stain procedures was actually a lot of fun.

I don't think the doctor is mad at me. It's hard to tell though, really.

Noodled around on the network for a few last night after I reviewed my notes.

and the rest of you? How's your research coming along? >:D

She is coming. Say your prayers.

Tue, 27 May 2008 08:25:50 GMT

And people ask me, as I sometimes ask myself: does death have a smell?
Do children?

If they do they’d smell like flower pressings, because that’s all I remember about being innocent.

Why don't I post much? Because I just don't. I don't have much to say except that I spit poison and am as crazy as the rest of them.

I say set your standards low so you'll surprise yourself every time.

And what nerve have I to speak to the sky and treat scientific vagaries as augury? I don't mean to be like that, but then none of us ever do. We're all housed in bodies with an evolutionary relic of great and primitive understanding and power; it isn't evil, it just isn't civilized, or even completely human.

Anyway I just thought I should mention that unless you have huge balls and are willing to wrestle angels and get your liver eaten by eagles a lot the magic game may not be for you. It comes with opponents automatically, not just secular but the very flaming-sword-wielding guardians of Eden besides. The weavers of the patterns and the guardians of the balance want unbalanced people to stay in their place.

Myself? If there was a rulebook I would have torn it up and eaten the pages and spit them back in the faces of all so-called authorities out of pure spite.

I'm the loser who keeps winning. Nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home.

Wed, 07 May 2008 11:15:58 GMT

Has anyone ever done something so horrible to you that "I'm sorry" couldn't fix it?

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Oh yes. But that'll all change soon enough...

Mon, 14 Apr 2008 05:27:41 GMT

What happened the first time you were left home alone as a child?

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I expect I cried. All the rage of being left and cast aside at such a crucial moment...I cannot begin to remember how it must have felt. Such anger in such a small body.

But Mother nurtured me, even if my true parents would not. She fed me the hunger that for so long motivated me... the hunger to avenge myself upon a world that never wanted me. Come my children, come closer. I want to see the whites of all your eyes.

And pluck them out.

Or so it was, once. That hunger drove me, led me, was my guiding light, my connection to God.

Now? I've come to the undeniable conclusion that I've become dependant on others for daily sustanance. I can no longer be content with being by myself all day like I used to.

Dear God, Mother, can it be that I've waited too long? That I like these people too much to kill them now? Or can it be that this is the farthest I have ever been from God?

My current state of reality is warped. The people come and go and I just stand here. I take it all in, and I let it all go. I try to understand what's going on but I'm confused.

I think I really need to kill something before I go out of my mind.

Sat, 15 Mar 2008 11:23:27 GMT

*looks at the current world's population* You must have a lot of frustration then.

What pisses you off? - Created by ptocheia

---
Aren’t you supposed to feel after you kill someone? Isn’t it supposed to bother you? Gnaw at you, knowing that you snuffed out a life. Why doesn’t it bother me? Have I slipped that far away? I feel like I’m falling from grace. I felt nothing as I tortured him. I felt nothing as took his hopes, his dreams, his peace and shredded it to pieces. Nothing. No remorse. No sadness. No glee. Just empty, as fear, agony, and death entered his eyes. It meant nothing to me that, the man was terrified. It meant nothing to me, that this man suffered. His pleading only infuriated me. It was weak… I hate weakness. When did this start? When did I lose myself? Is this what mother wanted? I can’t remember anymore. All that time I was left alone… all that time I was starving… all that time I was fighting… I was forgetting. I can’t remember who I was. I can’t remember what it was like to feel something other than rage, aggression, pain… fear. I need to decide. I need to choose where to take my destiny. I feel like my hands are bound, I have but one way to travel. I do feel like I need to do something important. I am getting so close to leaving everything behind, but I still feel there should be something left for me to accomplish in order to be satisfied when closing this long and strenuous chapter of my life.I am not sure what is real anymore. I am trying very hard to be alone which is not easy for me. Don’t think I really have before honestly. I haven’t been able to sleep anymore either. Time is lost to me. I am starting to get sick, physically and emotionally. All the shit that happened to me while I was in pain is coming back to me. And none of it is good. I think something is watching after me at times, because I honestly should not be alive.I don’t know where to turn anymore, every direction seems to have a dark road I must go through, just not sure which one has the sun at the end of it, or if there is even one at the end.

Wed, 05 Mar 2008 08:09:39 GMT

So at times I feel sorry for all of the wrong I’ve done. But there is a part of me that wants to keep wronging. Because in all of this madness and weird stretchings and snappings of the rubber bands of my mind, I think I may have lost any adequate notion of a socially acceptable idea of what “wrong” or “right” is.

Still. Wrong is so...tasty. When it happens I am god-like, above all others. It's empowering and it tantalizes...others cowering at the cruelty of my whim.After all,the most feared are they who don't fear the death of every moment. We are feared because of our strength. It's nigh time to assume responsibility to ourselves and each other for who we are. To do that we must let go of the lie which is the empyrean, which also is death.

Let they who worship and fear us tremble.

I guess... I guess I'm not sorry for the wrong I've done, actually. I think what I'm sorry for is that at times I am weak enough to still feel worrisome little maggoty feelings like regret, when all that is powerful within me knows those rules do not apply.

Thu, 28 Feb 2008 06:47:41 GMT

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 20:23:30 GMT

which norse creature are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Skoll

Skoll - The wolf that will eat the sun at Ragnarok.

Skoll

100%

Garm

50%

Nidhogg

50%

Sleipnir

33%

Fenrir

33%

Ratatosk

17%

Heidrun

17%

Hati

---

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 07:09:19 GMT

I never cease to be amazed how the heart can withstand to be pulled out through the chest one moment and then in the next instant be reinserted into its enclosure, snugly nestled therein, with no apparent disturbance to the outside world. Well, so long as you've secured said heart's owner with a liberal amount of tape over their faces, anyway.

I still remember as a child how I would sit near the door and gaze outside. My eyes were constantly searching for someone, and that someone was my mother.
i guess waiting patiently is something that I've learned and practiced to perfection. Not just for people, I've waited for circumstances and situations to turn to my favor.

I have people around me now. I'm not sure what to make of that.
They come and go, as people do. Since I'm torn between wanting to observe them and wanting to kill them horribly, I find myself waiting again and again for them to return from their little errands.The funny and rather amusing aspect is that even when they are around me, I'm still waiting somehow...

I guess that's because I'm so used to waiting for a long period that when the wait is actually over I dont even realize it.

when life gives you lemons, squeeze the juice over other people's open wounds.

Thu, 31 Jan 2008 04:01:24 GMT

You Are a Lemon

You have a very distinct personality. And if you're not being sweet, you're a little hard to take.
You're a bit overpowering, especially in one on one situations.

And while you are very dominant, sometimes your power is needed and appreciated.
You can liven up a dull situation, and you definitely bring a fresh outlook.

You are a bit of an acquired taste, and you tend to grow on people over time.
People feel refreshed and rejuvenated after spending time with you.

What Type of Fruit Are You?

in spite of my rage

Mon, 28 Jan 2008 05:06:30 GMT

Would you rather spend a whole day with your mom or your dad?
My mom i guess.

Is it easy for others to make you feel awkward?
Idk.

Do you know what you are going to wear tomorrow?
Yep.

What serial killer do you find most disturbing?
Idk.

Does anyone hate you for no reason?
Yeah, Ashley does.

Can you make yourself cry?
Maybe.

Are you easily confused?
Not really.

//rant/
as much as ive wanted to say this in the past, ive held back on it because i knew that even letting any of you know you matter, will just go straight to your deluded heads. you are some of the most vile, disgusting and hateful human beings i have ever encountered in my life. without doing a thing to you, you let your jealousy and bitterness towards your own life rest its eyes upon me.just stretch the chains, you three-headed dogs, two-headed eagles. tear up the ground, tear down the sky. play that tune on my rib cage, grab & pull me down. right on wear me out, because i sure know that i can feel the holes being worn-out at the angles. angels. you can call out "catastrophic!" at the top of your lungs if you want to. i'll be counting shooting stars. one, two, three. i became the prey for you seething, vicious heartless leeches to feed upon. and ever since you havent given one moments thought on if you really had a reason for doing so. and the only reason is your jealousy. & did they summon me on down, & who is to blame? i just have to become comfortable with these shark-tooth scars, i guess. why point fingers when fingers can pull triggers? shells and empty carcasses of evil. feasting your evil eyes upon the light i possessed and convincing yourself you wouldnt rest til you saw it turn to your deep shade of darkness. well im close. your evil lives and faithless souls have turned me dark.split my face in a smile. mostly i just fold up like a praying mantis. not that i'm either. praying, or a mantis. leaving me alone with myself leaves me too much time to myself! don't you know what i'm interested in? youve taken as much energy as you possibly could and ive never once said something back, retaliated, or tried to inflict harm. i have never in a million years had a nightmare that contained as much evil as you do, never saw a horror movie that could scare me more then what i know you're capable of can. i know hatred is wrong and i struggle against it, but you all truly deserve the worst torturous death possible. if i hear that someone has died in an awful way im no longer sad, i'm remorseful that it wasnt one of you. i've never had a reason to hate before, i've lived a blessed life but i know that silence and indifference assumes compliance and i will never give in or agree with beasts like you.

I've been on pause but I'm shaking off the rust.

It's hard to explain this frame of mind that I have its always negative but its beautiful in a since maybe that is my problem I find it so beautiful and at the same don't really see it as such a negative thing that I don't realize how negative it is affecting everyone around me. There are times where I completely can't handle it and those are the times when I do hurt other people. I don't even want to hurt other people

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 02:11:15 GMT

I am only a servant, that's all. I am a worker--for God. We are all servants of God, or destiny, whatever you wish to call it. I am not so proud, and I am not so great--I'm nothing but what She has wanted me to be. She has said to me, 'You are going to teach and serve and make them dance,' and I know that nothing anybody on earth could do could prevent me from doing what She wants me to do.

So do yourselves the favor and stop trying to second guess me. You will never know my intentions.

Moreover, neither will I. I watch and I wait.... until such times as She speaks to me again.

Sat, 01 Dec 2007 21:31:06 GMT

Dear Santa...

Dear Santa,

This year I've been busy!

Last Tuesday I bought porn for omnipotent_me (-10 points). In July I got in a fight, I kicked shotgunonmyback in the knee and pulled darkmirror_vr2's piggytails.(-76 points). In September I pulled over and changed ankh_girl's flat tire (15 points). In January I got in line at the supermarket at the same time as lj_biz and I didn't yield (-8 points in general, but +1000 FTW!). Last Saturday I helped ifeelyourstress see the light (8 points).

Overall, I've been naughty (-71 points). For Christmas I deserve a spanking from mioobscura!

Sincerely,
fmsblueraincoat

OOC meme thingage that everyone seems to have one of these days.

Thu, 15 Nov 2007 20:02:52 GMT

Easiest way to get on his good side: Don't struggle. It will go easier for you.
Easiest way to get on his bad side: Relax. You are most assuredly already there.
Favorite person: Mom. Now, whether this means his biological mom, who he's never met, or the great Mother-God of the Silent Hill cult? Even he's not completely sure.
There's no guarantee he'll be 100% happy to see her should he ever accomplish his goal of finding her, either. There are years of abandonment issues simmering here, after all.
Favorite person met on the comm: In dramadramaduck? Mio Amikura, most likely. Perhaps because she was nice to him, or perhaps because he has to respect that supernatural-repelling camera of hers. More likely it's because Sae Kurasawa's ghost has been visiting him since he started hanging around Mio.

Heather Mason is his second favorite, if only because he knows he annoys her. She's another Silent Hill resident, and so they're almost neighbors. Besides, he knows alllll about her dubious past. He thinks it's funny she doesn't want to be the Sacred Woman sect's big cheese. Doesn't she like all the attention?

Fri, 02 Nov 2007 12:16:20 GMT

Every night since I've come here she's come to me.
With her, a fog, which claims the lives of the dozens of villagers who run and scream and try to hide but then writhe, dying horribly as though rent from within by a terrible and merciless hand.

It's incredibly hot, really.

Every night she lays with me, doing all those wicked and wonderful things they say that whores do, but all for real, all for me, all for free.

Even dying.

Every night she dies for me, erotically, enjoying the pain as much as I like giving it her. She prefers when I strangle her, but she lies, so patiently, so still, gasping and twitching under every slash of the knife.

When she comes, we're not here anymore. We're back in the room, my room, the perfect room, a warm, enveloping realm of mother.

Mother likes her. She approves. This is exactly the sort of girl she would have wanted me to bring home to meet her, to spill and splash, crimson and obedient and eager, over her breathing walls.

She looks a lot like you, Mio. Who is she, anyway?

Thu, 25 Oct 2007 13:45:05 GMT

M-m-mommy?? where are you? I can't feel you anymore!