My Random Art
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Paint My World Yellow // DNF
There is Dream. Most days he is an gallery. An art exhibition of all the things that he wishes to forget. Most days he misses things that he has never done and people that he has never met. Most days he is a glass half empty. There is George. Some days he is a true artist, with all the pain and hurt that comes with the title. Some days he is poet. Some days he is a dead poets poetry. But most days he is in love with the world and the pain that it is. Most days he is a glass half full. And there is art classes. Somewhat of an 'in-between'. A place that keeps quiet about all the things that it sees, a place that is nothing and so much at the same time. And it pulls painters like Dream, poets like George and artists like them in to a deep place of hurt and heaven. Most days it's a cracking glass. Some days it's the cold wine in it. And you are given the chance to peek inside the in-between and read about one of the stories that the art classes walls are now carrying.Concluida
Why You
Just poems. Some poems that I have written and others from the internet. If you would like to send me poems, I will dedicate that page to you. Or if you want to stay anonymous that's fine, too. Poems that I have wrote will have a '*' at the end. Please don't steal my own poems, because I worked hard on them. If you do choose to steal MY works, I am hurt. Use your own inspiration and creativity, please, it's not very hard (edit: it is very hard) ;) The poems that I have not written belong to there rightful owners. I will not be taking credit for them.Concluida
TSAMS x reader || Oneshots ||
‼️WARNING‼️ This does contain inappropriate language, content, and much more. This is meant to be 18+!! So, if you're not 18 or more and still read this anyways, you brought this on yourself!!
Creepypasta/Slenderverse experiences + research
This will be my online journal, since i have lost the one i have in real life. All of the photos and evidence of HIS existance is all real. You can choose whether you want to believe it or not, to me it doesnt matter. Because i know what i have seen... This will contain ways to summon them, my research + personal stuff / Photos occasionally.
Poetry of 2015-2017
When I feel inspired, I like to write about •••• All of these poems are mine & original Enjoy ☺️Concluida
How I feel about my bestfriend
This story is about how I really feel about my bestfriend over the years till now nothing really changes how I feel for him read my story. I have to tell if my best is reading this then I don't know what to say and if you call or text me about it. I still don't know what to say or do I know for a fact if I looked into your eyes, and I can't think what to say a word, so I am writing this story fyi I did write a song to anyway I hope you like this story. I hope you like this story because it's a crazy ride and thank you for reading.Concluida
There is Dream. Most days he is an gallery. An art exhibition of all the things that he wishes to forget. Most days he misses things that he has never done and people that he has never met. Most days he is a glass half empty. There is George. Some days he is a true artist, with all the pain and hurt that comes with the title. Some days he is poet. Some days he is a dead poets poetry. But most days he is in love with the world and the pain that it is. Most days he is a glass half full. And there is art classes. Somewhat of an 'in-between'. A place that keeps quiet about all the things that it sees, a place that is nothing and so much at the same time. And it pulls painters like Dream, poets like George and artists like them in to a deep place of hurt and heaven. Most days it's a cracking glass. Some days it's the cold wine in it. And you are given the chance to peek inside the in-between and read about one of the stories that the art classes walls are now carrying.
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