MISCELLANEOUS Scribbles and Scratches

Discussion in 'SHOWCASING' started by Dawn, Nov 13, 2012.

  1. Examples of the strange and boring and double strange things that float around in Dawn's head! :D


    Let's start off with some writing.

    This was also posted on my blog.
    Warning (open)

    So this is a short story, written from my personal experience with depression and the strength of friendship. This is a rough draft, but I hope I can convey to some of you what it feels like to hurt like this, and how much your friendship could mean to someone who is suffering.


    I was inspired by this song.







    A Muse For Endurance



    For Toria.


    Pitter-patter tapped the rain, steady beads of heavenly tears lamenting against the cool, clear glass of my window as if they were politely asking me to let them inside and join me in my mourning. For a brief moment my mind humored the idea and I imagined the droplets dancing against my face, mingling with their salty cousins on my cheeks.

    Crying wasn't anything knew to me. I often woke up to find my pillow soaked with tears and my skull throbbing like only the worst hangover was capable of. And if only it would just stop there. But just like most days, today I struggled just to sit myself up in bed. Always, my thoughts clutter with the worry, with the memories and all of the scars that accompany the past I wish I could simply erase. I always end up asking the same thing of myself:

    Why bother? Nothing will ever change.

    So I sleep the morning away, rather than deal with the things that only put me down. It's a temporary escape, and I know that at some point, I have to get out of that bed, I have to get up and deal with the world being happy, when I'm clearly not, and rubbing it in my face.

    There was a lead weight in my stomach that rainy afternoon, an unbearable pressure weighing me down until I felt lower and more worthless than the most contemptible of persons. And the rain drummed on.

    I used to love the rain. I used to love a lot of things.

    Now all I know is the slow and steady decomposing of everything I used to be while these four walls slowly close in on me. I'm suffocating.

    I sat there, where That Person used to sit, perched on the window seat with my shoulder and head leaning tiredly against the glass while my slow breathing fogged up a patch only to have it fade away again. On a whim, I lifted a hand and drew with my finger a heart in that patch of fog, though as the hand fell back to my lap, the condensation pooled where the two arches met trickled a crooked line down the center of the drawing, splitting the heart in two.

    My throat tightened. My vision blurred. Tears rolled down my cheeks and left fresh trails behind. One hand slapped against the window, the other clutched at my heart. I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my teeth, though nothing saved me from the sob that escaped and echoed through the apartment.

    Glancing up, I took in through blurry eyes, my apartment empty save for a few moving boxes and a bed. The rest was already at the house, and had been there for several months now. And as I stared at those last few boxes, I wished with all of my heart that I could feel something else, some other emotion than two only two I'd been left with. I didn't want to feel numb. I didn't want to feel lonely and lost. Even if it meant me getting angry and breaking things, at least it would be some kind of sign to myself that I was still alive inside.

    And then a knock sounded at the door, a breath's moment passing before the door opened. It was like sunlight itself had entered my gloomy apartment. Your smile was so bright, it was hard to look at, and yet I just couldn't look away. "Come for a walk with me," you said softly.

    "It's raining out."

    "And when has that ever stopped us?" you chuckled kindly as you cocked your head to the side, causing those wavy sunshine lockes to bounce across your shoulders. "Come," you repeated, holding out a hand.

    For a long moment I stared at that hand, contemplating all that it represented and all that it offered. It was a rope thrown down to someone trapped at the bottom of a deep, dark well. It was a mother's soothing embrace to a frightened child.

    And I was terrified of hurting any more than I already had.

    Reaching out with my own hand, our fingers entwined and you pulled me up off the seat. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt as steady on my own two feet as I did then. It was because of your touch. But please don't misunderstand.

    You are the wind beneath my wings.

    My best friend.

    Warmth resonated from that hand of yours, spreading from you in abundance and invading my cold. Like a bee slowly coming to life in the warm spring sun after a long winter, that oppressive weight began to lift.

    You smiled at me over your shoulder as you led me from the apartment, down the stairs, out the door... Rain pawed at my face and hair and at my clothes. And at yours too, but you really didn't seem to care. You paused on the sidewalk, smiling up at the gloomy, grey sky, then down at me. The rain was so cold, but it just couldn't compare to the look you gave me at that moment.

    It's going to be okay... You will be fine...

    Your emerald eyes spoke to me, reached deep down inside of me. With just that look, you were my rope, my soothing embrace. And although I ended up crying again, this time, I was smiling.

    Now we're walking the abandoned streets, hand in hand, talking about old memories. We're laughing, and crying, and smiling at it all. We're pausing to jump in puddles like we did in our youth. We're dancing and twirling around with our faces leaning back at the sky and our arms outstretched. I think I love the rain again. But not for the same reasons anymore. The rain means so much more to me now. It's a symbol of this fresh new start you've given me. It's washing away the sadness and the bitterness and the poison rotting me away.

    Dear friend.

    Dear beautiful, wonderful friend.

    Thank you.

    And please stay with me, just a little while longer?

    Because I can't live. I can't breathe. I can't do this unless you do this with me.

    I'm bound to stumble and I'm bound to trip along this journey of rediscovery. I need you to keep holding my hand.

    And if you ever fall, please know that I will pick you up...

    ...as you for I.





    I'm also really proud of the fact that I managed to write some poetry for Zen's Image Challenge. This is unheard of. Dawn just doesn't write poems normally @__@
    Poem with terrible structure (open)

    This is the story of Immoralized City,
    Downtrodden, forgotten, devoid of all pity...

    Little girl with your rainbow swirl,
    Dark alleys are filled with danger.
    Did Mommy not tell about the misleading spell,
    of candy held out by a stranger?

    Plain within view, ignored by all of you,
    The Paper Bag Prince awaits death.
    But rather than embrace, his fate with a smiling face,
    he begs with his very last breath.

    "I can change. Give me change."

    Suffocating silence on a cold winter's night.
    Prescription candy, blissful delight.
    One pill, two pills, colorful collection.
    Trying to forget about a life-eating infection.

    This is the story of Immoralized City,
    Soulless, diseased, and indubitably gritty.
     
  2. I ship this.
     
  3. Because I caught the drawing bug again and decided to do another mouse-drawn picture:

    For my lovely, lovely Twin <3

    Time taken: 1 hour and 10 minutes
    DaLi.jpg

    Added bonus!

    Self Portrait!
    DAWM.jpg
     
    • Love Love x 1
  4. Welp! It's been many a year since I last picked up a drawing pencil.

    Of course I can't shake off the rust with something easy >_>; Nooo that would make too much sense.

    I survived in the end anyway? 3 days later...

    NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!! (open)

    Plz xcuz shitty phone cameruh :/
    finished.jpg
     
    • Love Love x 4
    • Like Like x 1