IceFarie

There is nothing wrong with the fact that I am thinking and I am thinking and I am not looking and I am breathing. Maybe. Not sure. I think I'm breathing but of course I could be a brain in a vat just imagining that I exists and wouldn't that be sad? Wouldn't that be sad and I know it's sad, for you, maybe, but I'm not sad. Maybe. Because I have known love so even if I am a brain in a vat then I can be content to know that I love and am loved in turn and that's more than what a lot of people can say. My fingers are flying across the keyboard, writing every stray thought without pause even this one, and this one and this one, God will anyone e

(I am so sorry) The sun shone So brightly And beautifully warm The sky was clear and the birds sung cheer As the black hearse drove 'round town I saw The place we swam The place we ran And the tree where we first kissed And I remembered The way that you said "Darling come closer, come closer " And I was never close enough So sorry, so very very sorry But I was never close enough And I know your casket's made of yew (you always preferred dark cherry) And I know your carnations are white (for remembrance, for innocence) But I still remember the way We laughed while we danced in the shower With the steam a veil between

She's been looking for a while now, the end of that perfect time. She looks for it in the morning, when she's greeted by that warm smile. She looks for it in the evening, when she sees that face smile and kiss her hello. Constantly she is searching for the end, it feels almost inevitable, as perfection such as this is not meant to last, no one person is meant to be so happy for so long. Misery always creeps in to steal the good to keep the scales leveled. A heart to a feather and all that. So she looks for that end, days, weeks, months, and going on into years. Experience has taught her that these things never last. There are tough times and

She said Child, child, come closer my dear I have a story to tell that you need to hear So she opened the windows and unlocked the door Put out the fire and sat on the floor and said: The great white elk bounds across the skies, the huntsman following close behind the fear and the chase, the sweat and the spear The aged and the youth, the wise and the naïve Chasing and running with no reprieve And She stops, turns, and says unto me Wait. Watch and listen, form no opinions and no responses Observe, analyze, and repeat. Cut yourself off from your Hypothalamus and use your frontal lobe Think, think, think, And Cut y

Something broke today. Something small and precious, a glass flower, a snowflake, a heart. Something untouchable for its fragility, something broken much to easily, never to be healed again. It made no sound, no dying screams or pitiful whimpers, its passing was slow and barely noticed, noted only by outsiders with jaded eyes. It's gone now, spirited away and never to be seen again. Earlier and earlier it breaks, shatters, and falls away spreading itself across the floor and cutting the feet of everyone who walks upon it, unaware of the blood pouring from their bodies, slicking the shards and staining pure white red. Something broke today.

He loves Sherlock. John knows this, understands this, accepts this, and ignore this. People seem to think that love is just a dam waiting to burst and that once discovered the words simply must be set free for fear of implosion. Or at the very least there is awkward stumbling and blushing and general nervous behavior around that person. But this is not so, because while John may not be as smart and Sherlock, he does understand himself better, so when the realization came, it was not a dam or a tidal wave or a sudden realization or even a gradual one. It was a Tuesday. It was a Tuesday and John was making a quick meal from what was salvagea

And the world whispered into his ear, you worthless pig, you horrid vile being, you, who deserves not the life bestowed upon him should do me a favor and rid me of you yourself, just keep it a little clean would you? You're always such a hassle to take care of. And he responded, world, you hate me and I hate me, but there's one person, just one, that loves me for me and I can't destroy her that way, because even if I don't deserve her she thinks she needs me, and I'd just be scum if I let her cry. So the world responded, you think she cares for you? That she would miss you? She wouldn't you're alone in this world, no matter what you tell yo