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Dear Future MeDear future self.
I don't know when you'll read this or if you ever will. Will you be 18, 25, 35 or 50 years old? Who knows only time will tell. I know that the way I am now is maybe not the best I can be. I hope that you, I whatever will have changed myself to be a much kinder and better person but not losing myself along the way. I have been going through a really tough time right now (fall of 2012 remember?). So if you're reading this and thinking yeah I remember that and still want to cry then I will not be pleased with myself, but if you think that this tough time has made me a better person and led me to my dreams then I am proud.
But there are a few questions I'd like to ask such as:
Do I ever complete writing a book? I mean now at the age of 14 you have written like a million beginnings but never written more than a few pages.
If I ever completed a book did it get published? Please, please, please!
Do I ever get good at geography? I mean my geographic skills at the moment aren'
Halloween is the time to feedLucky me that it's Halloween.
Lucky me that I get to feed
Lucky me that the humans are outside.
Lucky me that I get someone to eat.
Splat, a little blood on the floor.
Splat, a little more.
Splat, a bunch of blood.
Splat, I want more.
Halloween is the time for me.
Halloween is when the monsters feed.
Halloween exist for things like me.
Halloween you're so sweet.
A little human to eat
A little thing to eat.
A little person to eat.
A whole town for me to eat
A Million Years AwayA MILLION YEARS AWAY
I looked at you,
I wanted to reach out,
Out to you
You were so close,
Yet so far
You were shining
No more like glowing,
A million years away,
You were so happy
Yet so sad
I want to reach out to you
But I can't,
You're just like a star
You look close
Yet you're a million years away
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More