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The Dangers of DreamingMy feet shamble forward, the jeans making it harder as they slide down my legs and eventually tangle around the ankles. Violently kicking them off, they hit the wall, slide, and crumple on the floor with the jingle of coins and keys.
Now completely bare, that last effort of movement and the exhaustion of the day weighs heavily on me until it pushes me down onto the bed. The pressure doesn't leave but brings an added comfort against the soft mattress under me with thoughts of sleep drawing closer.
As I drift off I make out the slight feminine figure of a shadow against an unknown source of blue light portraying on the surface of the wall from the foot of my bed: slender neck, curvature of the chest, and the the slight roundness of a pot belly. My mind carries no heed to malicious inquiries or thoughts of foreboding while watching, but a sense of panic quickly rises as the ethereal shape of the shadow starts to slowly turn its head. Thoughts stop; seconds become hours; fear holds the bod
Autumn AdagiosLeaves carried by the wind swirl around me; crisp oranges, browns, and yellows dancing in the autumn wind. With the drop in temperature my hair pricks up, and along with it a wave nostalgia as my thoughts relapse to seasons past.
I'm eleven again, resting on the side of a small bridge with my feet hanging over the edge. Despite the two layers of clothing, I'm still cold and shivering. Fall leaves litter the landscape; the large oaks looming above responsible.
Sitting there watching the leaves float downstream under me, my ears perk to the sound of a feminine voice singing. The soft, melancholy music swells in me, and I instantly forget the chill of the air and become entranced. I look up from the ground and to the world around me, and as if a colour lens was put over my vision, the orange hues of the season seem to deepen with a brilliance I haven't seen before.
Bass Beats That Shake the SoulIt's bright, sunny, and there is no breeze at the moment. I look over as she strips her clothes, her ebony skin contrasting against the bright colours of the day. The smell of sex wax fills my senses, and I start thinking how odd the name.. The ability it has to invoke the same thoughts as its name even though its use is completely different. It's March 5th, 2009 and I'm on a bus.
I want to be a travel writer. The only problem is that I work thirty eight hours a week barely scraping by to make rent. I spend five hours total on the bus and lose thirty minutes a day roughly in the bathroom. Waking up a couple of days ago made me realize how much time I'm wasting for nothing. Everyone in my life has told me how much potential I have, but I'm unsure how to tap into such unknown latent talent. So I write you this...
Your day doesn't start tomorrow, decisions are made now and keep putting one foot ahead the other. Don't walk back now because all you went through to get here has been hard eno
Melodic MachinationsThe figure of a Castle juts against a dark landscape. Layers of black clouds paste themselves like backdrop in the night sky, an irradiated blue shining through the rare cracks between. It's too dark to see, but a brittle crunch attributes each step I take closer to my destination.
I'm drawing nearer, but a rhythmic shaking through the ground causes me to hesitate. I think to myself, 'Do not hesitate. Hesitation only leads to death.' I look up to what's drawing me to this place; more mechanical than stone, the tarnished steel clockwork of the abode slowly turns. Each click of a gear creates the beat of the tremors I felt coming here. There's no more fear in me.
As I start to stride forward, a quick flash like lightning pierces through the translucent clock face, revealing the ancient skeletons below me that make up the terrain. A slow, deep chiming of the hour plays as I start to smile. Each monotone note beckons me to come, and with each strike the smile broadens to a grin.
My last th
Body Breaking Bossanova"Get up, Nick!"
I feel the constant drumming of raindrops slowly rousing me with every tiny smack to my face. Where am I? I can't see anything.
"Get up, Nick."
I strain to open my eyes. My vision starts to clear and I see the solid shield of grey; the first verbal thought only being "The Sky."
"You have to get up, Nick"
My body feels heavy, as if I'm drowning in my surroundings. My first attempt to move ends in failure with nothing receiving their signals. Instead I try to breathe; at first the inhales are sharp like breathing in glass but gradually become smoother.
"Nick, you have to get up!"
I roll over and start to push myself up. I notice my hands covered in that familiar crimson, though brighter than usual. Whose voice is that?
"Nick, get up," my own voice startling me. I hear a chuckle then realize it came out of my own mouth.
Once I get up I find my leg not working and my right hand crippled, its fingers sprawled in different directions like frayed rope. Still clutching the plas
Of Dreams and DemonsI hear the phantom sounds of a piano, it's melody somber, further deepening the mood of the dimly lit hall. Numerous candles cast a bronze glow against the pillars and nearby but fails to penetrate futher into the darkness of the vast room.
The music stops, and from the abyss I hear course voices mumbling demands to play. I look down to find I'm dressed in a black suit and white collared shirt. Buttoned to my cuffs are unfamiliar symbols, and my shoes look highly expensive: gold buckles against black leather.
After the quick inspection of my attire, I look to my left and find a piano that wasn't there before. The disembodied voices urg me to, "Sit and play. Yes, play." I take my seat and rest my hands on the ivory keys. On reflex my fingers play the same somber song that lilted through the expanse before. As I play I can see dim shadows shifting at the edge of the light. Several pairs of bright eyes peer at me, and as I continue to play, more seem to join and watch. I make out the irre
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More