Raindrop Valkyrie

Yea, that's cause I rented out the room back there~

I'm still waiting for some feathers hehehehe. Uh, anyway, I'd probably do reviews more if I had the time to really sit down and think however I need a lot of time to critique things... especially art forms I'm not exactly a practitioner of. Like doing that for writing is hard enough as it is, doing with it drawing, painting etc where I don't do it myself is harder for me lol. I don't really know how to put my thoughts into words hence why I don't do it a lot. With writing I more readily understand the medium so it doesn't take forever for me to come up with things. Weenie also tends to say anything I could even think of do to how through and well thought out his posts are so I find trouble finding a place I could put a word in edgewise and have it matter. Mainly, there's no point in repeating what's been said ((at least imo XD.)) That's why I'm a bit lighter on that part of things.

I write, because I bleed. My own blood is my ink. My writing as flawed as it is, is a part of myself. It is my catharsis. Bad blood spilled on paper. It may be dirty, and it may not be pleasant to read at times, but... it's how I can breathe again. It stains paper, so that I may no longer feel that stain in my soul. So, know that. Know that you are seeing something that is trapped within me, know that you are seeing my true self. The one that struggles to be... the one that wishes it could be free from it's inner demons. The ones that won't stop haunting it. Know that I spill my blood on paper... so that I can live. Know that in my blood hitting paper, I heal. Know that spilling my blood on paper is how I am free, how my mind lets go, how I fix my soul. Know that my writing is more than writing. Know, that I am human because rather than destroy... I create. And know that because of it... I will not die.

Life... There are days... I wonder if it's worth continuing with it. My heart bleeds, and bleeds and bleeds. I'm drowning in it. I'm fighting to tread water. I'm fighting to even keep my head above the pain I feel. All, in a river of crimson. I'm drowning in my own pain. I don't know what to do anymore. And yet I do. I just got to keep trying... to persevere. But at what point is persevering, just pointless? Do... do I even care if I'm gone? Do I really care if I die? Do I really care enough to keep swimming in this endless ocean of pain... anxiety. Darkness. My heart is still beating. I can feel it in the palm of my heart. But, is it hollow? Is it real? Does it even want to? I don't know anymore. I know I'm alive. But am I really alive? I must be if I can feel what I feel. Pain, love, heartache. I feel more negative emotions then positive ones. I feel disgusting, dirty, awful, like my existence is wrong. It gets worse every day. I feel the... sting of a false cloudy phantom that refuses to leave me. A forlorn shadow that hangs over my soul, a coat... a straight jacket. It embraces me, whispers sweet nothings into my mind. It tells me that I'm broken, that there is still holes in my souls. Cracks that can never be repaired. "People can see them, they are ugly. Don't you see?! Look at how they treat you! No one cares. You're no one's priority, and even when you are, you know someone else will come along and take your place for them. Someone with more value than you. Someone smarter, funnier, more enjoyable to be around. You are a nuisance... a disgusting monster that has feelings it shouldn't feel. Stop bothering those poor people. They don't deserve to see how fucking disgusting you are. They don't deserve that. They don't want to see it. Why do you think they ignore you? Leave you to last? Why do you think they always leave you until they've got nothing else? It's cause they don't want you. Anything is better than you. You're broken. Worthless. Stop trying to have friends, stop trying to make people like you. They can't you idiot. No one loves you. No one wants you. NO ONE... WANTS... YOU!" It leans its weight on me. Its unbearable and disgusting weight. It pushes me down... doesn't allow me to feel me. It makes it worse in some ways that I know it's there. Because I know it's a fake image... an illusion. A falsehood. Darkness given form a thousand times over. Pain, the manifestation of pain as a demon. But I can't get rid of it. Its body is buried in my soul, my heart. That's why it is bleeding. There's a hole in me and I can't plug it. I... don't know how. I feel myself slipping away more and more and more and more and more and more and more... I can't stop the bleeding. I will though. I don't know how. But I will though. I will. Will. It is a good word. It's not half-assed like want. Will is definite. I can't say it without meaning it. For to say you will have something... you must have the willpower. Funny, isn't it? I always thought English was a stupid language. But sometimes it has beautiful gems in it. Words, that tie so neatly together; That knit cleanly together, to mean something more than on their own. They are my power, my strength. I use words to fight for myself. They are all I know how to use. The only weapon I have. The one thing I have to fight my inner darkness, to push it away push it back to show it that it has no place here. I hold that power in my heart, my mind, my hands. Words are my hope. Hope, is a driving force. It is the opposite of despair. Hope inspires. Despair destroys. When a great weight of Despair lifts, in it's place rushes hope. Hope pushes, despair stops. Hope loves, despair hates. Hope lifts, despair drops. Hope amplifies, Despair dampens. Hope is a force that augments, Despair is a force that depresses. It's knowing that that's half the battle. What is important. To let oneself hope and dream. For it is with hope one can love, one can improve, one finds the drive to do, believe... be free. This is what hope is to me. That is why when people say that hope is for the weak... it disgusts me. Because, hope is what makes us strong. Despair is what makes us weak. Hope inspires us to greatness. It is the hopeful dreamer that strives to do something with the life they are given. It's despair that causes them to cut themselves down. It's the negative that makes us weak. Refuses to let us become what we are meant to be. That cripples us. It is Hope that tells me to stand. Hope tells me that. Hope is the light. It is the thing that kills despair complacency... Hope has many forms. Happiness is the easiest to see. However, another is anger. Strange to think about but anger is a form of hope. The hope to see change for what is injustice. We feel the lick of anger's flame when we see injustice in this world and wish to act. Anger, like hope is a driving force. It can be misguided, but everything can. But more important than those forces is clarity, the able to see. The ability to feel from another angle. Perspective is the most important thing in this world. Seeing from a place other than your own. Is it hard? Yes. But it is hope, that wants us to see from many perspectives. Perspective is what gives us the ability to empathize, to understand. And with this understanding of others... we understand ourselves. So, despite the disquiet in my soul, my heart... I live on. It's is from the eyes of others I have seen I have worth. Their words are their weapons. Their words tell me just as much as the ones I write now about them... myself. Their hope can become mine. Their hope... can be the hope that rushes within that spot created when despair lifts. I see their anger towards my own actions when I let my despair color in their actions. When I give their actions meaning that they themselves do not give them. They see an injustice there... me changing their words twisting them against them. Their pain. In my pain, I don't think. I hurt others. Because... i want them to understand what I feel. How broken I feel. How inhuman... how disgusting. It's through others, I begin to understand what it's like not to hurt however. Each person I meet... each new soul mine touches... I feel new hope. I feel a different hope. I can feel new connections, new lights. In understanding them, I get to understand myself more. I build my lexicon from experiences. The library in my heart grows and expands every time I met another person. It grows more and more as I talk to them. I can feel new rhythms. Heartbeats not my own. I remember them. Each time i ask a silly little question... every time I grow a little closer, I feel the distance close. The heartbeat gets stronger. The more that darkness in me goes away. The easier it is to open my heart. The easier it is the realize... that hole in my heart isn't real. The easy it is to just let go of those feelings I know are fake. My anxiety, it's really just despair's last ditch effort to control me. To stop me from being what I can be. But there's something I learned. Despair can stop my voice. But, it can't keep me from writing. So, all this? It's how I fight despair. Because despair can't control this. It cannot control the words I pour unto a page. It cannot take that away from me. It never will. The more I write... the more I break despair's grip. This is why it's my hope. If there's anything I can say, for those that feel the endless bleeding, the discordant echo of despair, find your muse. Find your hope. Find the one thing that you can fight it with, the thing it can't stain pitch black. Hold that hope with everything you got. Cling to it. Don't forget it. Feel it's warmth in your chest. Feel that feeling that drives you to do it. Because that... is hope. Whenever you are in the darkness... whenever you feel broken, bloody. Find that hope, because hope cannot be broken. Not true hope. It can only be hidden. Find it, and never forget it. But, even if you do, find it again. Do this. Keep doing it. Don't let yourself forget what the light looks like. For you will see it again. You will. Will. There are days, I can't think about anything other than how worth continuing it is. Life.

3 safe from me~

Tacos actually stole that from me.... 5

70~

36~

24~

12~

It's does, but I dunno needa get greedy for da 3's. Also 4.~

2. WHoops. Also all the 30's have 3's Ex.

23, if you give me threes, I'm happy heheeheheheh.~

2 + 1 = 3, Y'all be safe from me~ ((21))

Ah.... niiiiiiice. 19~

16~ better move quick.