Lost - Frerard
- Lecturas 697
- Votos 45
- Partes 10
What does it feel like to be lost? What's is like to really be alone? What happens when you loose the light behind your eyes?
Forever wondering if you will be free, searching for an escape route is the only things that matters. Giving up seems like a good idea,but wouldn't that make you a failure?
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Gods Favourite Loser
Sometimes I wish I knew what it felt like to be someone else, anyone other than me, really. It's not that I dislike who I am(I do sometimes), or even that I'm lost. It's more like... I'm curious. Curious about the weight of other people's thoughts. The texture of their fears. The shape of their joy. None of us walk the same path, even if the streets overlap. None of us carry the same sky, even when we stand under the same stars. I often wonder, can eyes that have seen different corners of the world ever truly see the same world? Two people, standing side by side, might witness the same event. But they won't feel the same chill in the air. They won't flinch at the same memories. They won't hear the silence in the same way. So maybe we don't live in one world at all. Maybe we live in billions. Each one stitched together by memory, perception, pain, and hope. But maybe we can get close. Maybe, with enough honesty and enough patience, we can build bridges. Quiet little bridges made of words and glances and shared stillness. Maybe we can stretch ourselves across the gap. And maybe, just maybe, if you're willing to meet me there... I can show you what it's like to be me. So come. Walk a little with me. Let me try to emulate this strange maze of thoughts, this ever-shifting fog I call a mind. Let me turn myself inside out for you, just for a moment. The name's Blank. And I welcome you to the world through my eyes, my imaginary audience, watchful, patient, and perhaps just as lost as I am. Together, we might not find all the answers. But maybe, if we're lucky, we'll find the right questions.
Tethered
Bright lights, the beat of the music beneath my feet. Distant chatter, quite whispers. The feeling of joy, loss, heartbreak, and loneliness surround me. Buried in a crowd, drowning under the gazes of people who look through you. I am but of glass, a mirror if you will, willing to be seen through, but not seen. Screaming in a room full of people when no one can hear you, let alone see you. Hidden breaths, rising, falling. Isn't that funny, falling? Laughing would be easier than standing here in the crowded place, filled with people, faces, judging every moment the other makes. I could tell you the peace I get standing alone in a room filled with people who only see you as a mirror for who they don't want to be. I could cry tears of blood, and non would ever so much bat an eye in my direction, but I love it. The feeling of being unseen as to appose being seen for the matieral object I once was. Silent, unmoving, unwilling. I am but an idea, glass, shatterable, broken beyond compare. But strong, resistance flows through me. Willing me to be the best I can be, but can I? Who says I make sense, who says I am even me, am I? That's a question I spent years wondering. Who would I be without these scars that tether my skin, marking each even, like a calender. To mend the feelings people have isn't a easy thing, but to break is easy, always easy. How easy it is to forget, to run. I can feel the ground beneath my feet, feel the soil in-between the crooks of my toes, I could describe to you the smell of the rain. Pinpoint the center of the earth, but as I stand here, again amongst the crowd of people stand in this room. I am lost again, an idea, but for what purpose? If I could run, navigate my way through this crowd, I would seek refuge somewhere dark and cold, where I could take off this cloak and be one with who I am, or want to be.
Till My Heartaches End (COMPLETED)
What is love? I KNOW THE MEANING BUT I FORGOT THE FEELING.Concluida
A Look Inside My Head
It started on a Monday. I don't know what happened after that. I started off normal. I was still normal, wasn't I? I don't know, I just don't know. I was happy, I should be happy, but I'm not. Maybe I am? It's like there's a blackness in my mind, and I've covered it with yellow. I hate the colour yellow, but it's what I am. It's all I am now. My friends were laughing, I was laughing, but it didn't feel like it. My face felt tight as I stretched into a smile, yet it fooled them. I shouted with them, tears coming to my eyes. They laughed harder at that, everyone crying out my name, pointing at me, tears coming to their own eyes. The hole in my heart widened. I didn't know whether they were tears of sadness or happiness. Everyone was rocking back and forth, and slowly, they seemed to form into looming monsters, with wide eyes and pale faces. We stood up, hearing the bell. The sun hurt my eyes. I ran after them, shouting with them. I was loud, too loud. My own voice hurt my head. I didn't want the attention on me, so I dragged it to my fake self; my mask. I hated myself, and what I was doing. I had walked off again. I'm not sure why, but as I blinked, my feet decided that we were not going that way. I ignored them, and they thought it was a joke. They screamed my name, startling me, making me sprint over to them. I hadn't realised how far I had really wondered off. I joined my group, only to wish I had kept walking. They were laughing again, their laughter hurting my head. It shattered my thoughts, echoed around my head, deafened any emotions. I shrieked with them. We were like monkeys, chattering together. Maybe not; we were too dangerous for that. Monsters. Pale, looming monsters. (Updates everyday day!!!) (Oh, and the picture on the title page doesn't belong to me!!! Credit to whoever it belongs to!!!)Concluida
Give me shelter
Have you ever felt so lonely you believed there was nothing left for you? Stashed away, merely forgotten. I mean you could cry and cry, yet no one would hear you. At least no one you truly once loved. Being yourself can be detrimental to others happiness, and so you down play who you are. You devalue your beliefs, your morals fall short and that hollow rock turns into your Mirror. Do you matter anymore? Would anyone care if you simply disappeared? Could you find your way out of the darkness? Look Closer is one of my favourite quotes and so I'll use it as a guide to understanding the complex characters you're about to meet.Concluida
A Friendly Gesture
~Complete~ What if one day, all you can have are memories? What if remembering is something you don't want to do anymore? Please READ! And Support! Read On Peeps!Concluida
Blissful Pain
Your blank. All you know is that your in prison and you committed a serious crime. The thing is you don't remember anything but this. You have no name and no reason why your suffering for this specific crime. Your nothing. But what would happen if you suddenly remembered?Concluida
「星に願いを」 (When You Wish Upon a Star) : Part Ω
I woke up in a world that shouldn't exist. And in a body that isn't mine. The city around me is in ruins-silent streets, broken buildings, a sky that no longer remembers the sun. I don't know how I got here. I don't know who I am. My memories slip through my fingers like sand, leaving behind only fragments-whispers of a promise I can't remember making. But something is wrong. The world feels... stuck, repeating itself like a broken record. Shadows move where they shouldn't. Time bends in ways I can't explain. And the deeper I search for answers, the clearer it becomes-this isn't just about me. There's something out there, buried in the loops of time. Watching. Waiting. If I break free, will I find the truth? Or will I disappear like everything else? When the stars grant a wish, what do they take in return?Concluida
Sometimes I wish I knew what it felt like to be someone else, anyone other than me, really. It's not that I dislike who I am(I do sometimes), or even that I'm lost. It's more like... I'm curious. Curious about the weight of other people's thoughts. The texture of their fears. The shape of their joy. None of us walk the same path, even if the streets overlap. None of us carry the same sky, even when we stand under the same stars. I often wonder, can eyes that have seen different corners of the world ever truly see the same world? Two people, standing side by side, might witness the same event. But they won't feel the same chill in the air. They won't flinch at the same memories. They won't hear the silence in the same way. So maybe we don't live in one world at all. Maybe we live in billions. Each one stitched together by memory, perception, pain, and hope. But maybe we can get close. Maybe, with enough honesty and enough patience, we can build bridges. Quiet little bridges made of words and glances and shared stillness. Maybe we can stretch ourselves across the gap. And maybe, just maybe, if you're willing to meet me there... I can show you what it's like to be me. So come. Walk a little with me. Let me try to emulate this strange maze of thoughts, this ever-shifting fog I call a mind. Let me turn myself inside out for you, just for a moment. The name's Blank. And I welcome you to the world through my eyes, my imaginary audience, watchful, patient, and perhaps just as lost as I am. Together, we might not find all the answers. But maybe, if we're lucky, we'll find the right questions.
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