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I am a foot.We are feet.I am a foot.
We are attached to something that is traveling up a flight of stairs.
Our existence on earth can be described by the path the foot takes on the step.
On this plane our conception is the moment when we first make contact with time.
It is when the tip of our toe is almost hovering over the step.
As it makes more prominent contact we are born.
If the foot isn't racing up the stairs, then the specific step in time comes to learn a little about the foot.
Most feet wear shoes.
Perhaps those that are barefoot are the 'purest' among us.
Jesus, Buddha, the forever true.
by ~altra-seckz
RayHis voice grates against my eardrums every day.Ray
He always has some comment to make; an intangible spear to leave embedded in the side of my head.
Complaints frequent the foul tasting atmosphere he creates, always his, always about some insignificant subject.
There is constantly someone bothering his thoughts, different people I’m sure, but he never allows the shortcomings, and embarrassments of others to go away quietly.
Fights, and anger, and rumors live at the tip of his tongue.
I just wonder what it is he is trying to prove.
He seems unhappy, and I find him
by ~altra-seckz
Feelings of blech.Hollow. Emptiness overwhelms. A rather horrid way to experience life. An utter lack of feeling towards things that should be enjoyed.Feelings of blech.
Pain. Unfounded sorrows. This one covers all personal planes. It is not better than 'nothing', no, for this is my nothing, and I absolutely detest it.
My water taste less than clean. A taint from cheap stir fry.
Death. A word always at hand. Death, and pain, and sorrow. I hate those who dwell upon it, but it always at the tip of my tongue, for it is not inspiring, merely upsetting.
Although things tha
by ~altra-seckz
Car Scenario The car sat on the side of the street in its terrifyingCar Scenario
silence, the tinted windows making the dark interior
incredibly dark. Was somebody sitting in the car now?
Watching? The question raced through the boy's mind as
he nervously steered himself and his small dog to the
right, onto a street that led to his home.
He was sweating, only lightly, but enough for
the brisk wind of the strange night to cause the surface of
his body to cool a bit. His thoughts were racing through
by ~altra-seckz
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- Current Residence: A place of humidity
- deviantWEAR sizing preference: medium
- Interests: Music, Literary Analysis, Nature, Philosophy
- Favourite movie: Into the Wild
- Favourite band or musician: Bob Dylan, AlexisonFire, Modest Mouse, Far-less
- Favourite genre of music: The ones that sound interesting
- Favourite poet or writer: Charles Bukowski, Robert Frost, Kurt Vonnegut
- Favourite style of art: Literary
- Operating System: Windows Vista home
- MP3 player of choice: iPod
- Favourite game: WoW, Uno
- Favourite gaming platform: All of them
- Personal Quote: I am the Mongoose.
- Tools of the Trade: Keyboards, guitars, saw blades and hammers.
- Website: http://www.myspace.com/theblowfishproducer
- Email: Jdobson1025@gmail.com
- AIM: buticantsaveyou
- MSN: buticantsaveyou@live.com
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Commission me! Pretty much does every type of artwork cheaply (: [link]
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Commission me! Pretty much does every type of artwork cheaply (: [link]
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Commission me! Pretty much does every type of artwork cheaply (: [link]
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