b3yond-sh3lt3r

Its been so long. The seasons have changed, and so has my heart. It is cold outside, and a darkness has developed in my heart. That which led my mind so much, has been distorted and twisted and frozen shut, so my mind has too. I look at the few things I have really taken into appreciation and I weep, for they mean nothing. What happened to that child I was. The innocent boy. The kid who loved to laugh, and he did, so very much. What happened to the deepest of my soul: to praise You, and to love You, and You alone. What happened to that boy-child. Even but months ago I saw reminents of his being deep in me. But these days pass with such confus

The blanket covered his face. It was the last time he'd ever open his eyes, the last time he'd ever breathe the air that was meant to be breathed. For, from now on, every breath would be false, every sight, his imagination, for never again would he be with the thing that pleased him most. She meant so much. And she would never know. He never realized just what she meant to him, until he lost her. He closed his eyes, and she was what he saw. Now, underneath the beds sheets he wept, for now his dreams and vision were shrouded in darkness. A deep passion, a longing, for that feeling, for that presence. He missed it. More than he might ever

So often I cannot express myself in the pictures that I create.  So I revert to words. Simple, plain words. Words just like me. Nothing special, nothing amazing, but they are what they are. But I wonder, do the words ever wish they were more? Do they ever wish that they could be looked upon as sometimes more special? Everyone uses the simple plain words, and they are often butchered, misspelled, mispronounced, used grammatically incorrectly. Do they feel as I feel? Do they wonder why they must suffer this existance? To never become what they want to be? Their existance is so much like that of the being within which I dwell. Neither good, no