My stories tend to be rather strange, but then so am I.
Photo reblogged from Let it burst(and bloom) with 2 notes
out of the sea…wish i could be…PART OF YOUR WORRRRRLLLLLDDDD
Source: guernica322
Photo reblogged from Let it burst(and bloom) with 1 note
i’m sorry, this made my day. =D
OH MAN WHO REMEMBERS TUMBLARITY.
Source: guernica322
Photo reblogged from Let it burst(and bloom) with 2 notes
out of the sea…wish i could be…PART OF YOUR WORRRRRLLLLLDDDD
Source: guernica322
Post reblogged from Let it burst(and bloom) with 13,381 notes
ghetto harry potter
Harry Potter and that bitch ass rock that make u live forevah.
Harry Potter and the fucking deep ass hole with the snake and shit.
Harry Potter and the FR33 SiRiu$ bby!
Harry Potter and the pimp juice cup.
Harry Potter and the D.A GANG niggah! wassup.
Harry Potter and the drako becomes a pussy ass bitch.
Harry Potter and that time where we had 2 hide 2 be alive and the fucking gang wars and shit bro. fuck.
Reblogging myself because this shit is hilarious.
Source: letgomydraco
![DAY : SUNDAY, MAY 9TH, 2010. 11:09 PM
PICTURE:
Open Your Eyes. by ~Butterfleye [deviantart]
———————————————————————————————feigning awarenessmy eyelids, they openletting in the lightand though i don’t noticeyou’re waiting for meperched on the edgedear i don’t know what wedgeis between us, i’m awarethat the blame may rest with meyou seem to think that when my eyes openi’ll somehow understand and take noticeof your pure halo of light.the curtains fly free, letting in light,the sun peeks over the edgei try to give no noticethat of you, i am awareand as the sun pours in, my arms i opento enfold you and bring you closer to meand you kindly forgive me,my transgressions seem lessened by lightthat flows through the window openand suddenly, it makes sense. that wedgeis gone, and once again i am awareof your beauty, so long unnoticed.This wedge no longer stands between us, the way stands open,i’m aware of your beauty now, no longer unnoticed is yourhalo of light, you and me can last forever.
[note: i actually started this poem about a year ago, and i just fond it and picked it up again, so that’s why the beginning and end seem so different. also, i decided to try and use the sestina form that i learned last year, just to see if i could, sort of as a challenge to myself.]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l26ubkGI3a1qbl98vo1_500.jpg)
DAY : SUNDAY, MAY 9TH, 2010. 11:09 PM
PICTURE:
Open Your Eyes. by ~Butterfleye [deviantart]
———————————————————————————————
feigning awareness
my eyelids, they open
letting in the light
and though i don’t notice
you’re waiting for me
perched on the edge
dear i don’t know what wedge
is between us, i’m aware
that the blame may rest with me
you seem to think that when my eyes open
i’ll somehow understand and take notice
of your pure halo of light.
the curtains fly free, letting in light,
the sun peeks over the edge
i try to give no notice
that of you, i am aware
and as the sun pours in, my arms i open
to enfold you and bring you closer to me
and you kindly forgive me,
my transgressions seem lessened by light
that flows through the window open
and suddenly, it makes sense. that wedge
is gone, and once again i am aware
of your beauty, so long unnoticed.
This wedge no longer stands between us, the way stands open,
i’m aware of your beauty now, no longer unnoticed is your
halo of light, you and me can last forever.
[note: i actually started this poem about a year ago, and i just fond it and picked it up again, so that’s why the beginning and end seem so different. also, i decided to try and use the sestina form that i learned last year, just to see if i could, sort of as a challenge to myself.]
![DAY TWO: SATURDAY, MAY 8TH, 2010. 12:18 AM
PICTURE:
Inspiration by ~lyzik [deviantart]
———————————————————————————————
She had the sheet wrapped around her like a wedding dress, her long, dark hair spilling down her back. She sat on the bed facing the wall, examining the cheap motel wallpaper. He was too busy closing all of the curtains and locking the windows and doors to notice. “You don’t have to do that, you know. If they come, they’ll get in no matter what precautions you take.” She said without turning. “They aren’t coming though. I told you before. We gave them the slip, it will take them hours to figure out what happened.” “You can’t be too careful these days.” He said. Neither one dared look at the other. “You’re much too cautious, its borderline cowardly. How did you ever manage to become a high-ranking prison guard, being the coward that you are?” “I am not a coward!” He yells. The venom in his voice reveals that he’s heard the insult one too many times in his past. He wipes the nervous sweat off of his hands, his eyes darting towards the door every few seconds. “Besides, I broke you out of prison single-handedly, and you’re our highest security prisoner.” There was a note of pride in his voice here, and of rebellion. “Why would you help me?” She turned to him. They made eye contact for the first time since entering the room. “Why did you help me escape?” “Because…” He stopped, trying to figure out why he helped her. He had been guarding her for months now, bringing her meals and escorting her to the bathroom or the showers. “I guess it’s because I…uh…I love you.” He stumbled over his words as they fell out of his mouth. He gasped. Those words were not what he had meant to say, though they were the truth. Or so he thought. He hadn’t noticed until then that she had removed the white button-down shirt he had given her, as well as the dark blue slacks which every prison guard wore as part of their uniform. She was naked underneith that bone-white sheet. The thought of it made him sweat more. He hoped she wouldn’t notice. “You…love me?” She said, her voice taking on the deep, dark tone of seduction. She began to unwind the sheet from around her body. “I…uh…y-yes.” He stuttered, staring unblinkingly at her naked body. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman. A very, very long time. Though he knew it was wrong, she was a serial killer for Christ’s sake, he couldn’t help but walk towards her, his eyes drinking in her every curve. He desperatly tried to rationalize what was about to happen, telling himself that she had always been nice to him, and hadn’t she seemed so terribly sorry about what she had done when she told him about it? She had cried for her victims, she deserved a second chance, didn’t she? “You want me, don’t you.” She told him. It was not a question. He merely nodded, still staring. She walked to him and whispered in his ear, “You want me very badly?” He let out a soft moan. “You want to know how I treat men who want me?” He turned to her, his arms pulling her closer to him as he covered her mouth with his. The knife flashed in the dim light as it buried itself in his back. He let out a scream that was quickly silenced as she sliced open his throat. “THIS is how I treat the men who want me!” She yelled, her eyes alight with vicious triumph. She continued stabbing him with her home-made knife as she had stabbed so many other men in her past. He tried to stop her, clawing at her with his hands and kicking at her with his feet, but it was too late. He had already lost too much blood, and his attacks were weak. The last thing he saw was her sadistic grin as she wiped the blood off of her knife and put it back in her pocket. “Stupid man. Stupid like all the rest. You never should have trusted me. Though I’m not surprised. I don’t expect much from you bastards.” She washed the blood off of her in the bathroom sink and then found her clothes and put them back on. She checked herself in the mirror, looking for any stray specks of blood that would give her away. Looking at her reflection, she smiled. “Now to continue my work,” She said to herself, and then left the room, the door clicking shut behind her.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l238jqvetH1qbl98vo1_500.jpg)
DAY TWO: SATURDAY, MAY 8TH, 2010. 12:18 AM
PICTURE:
Inspiration by ~lyzik [deviantart]
———————————————————————————————
She had the sheet wrapped around her like a wedding dress, her long, dark hair spilling down her back. She sat on the bed facing the wall, examining the cheap motel wallpaper. He was too busy closing all of the curtains and locking the windows and doors to notice.
“You don’t have to do that, you know. If they come, they’ll get in no matter what precautions you take.” She said without turning. “They aren’t coming though. I told you before. We gave them the slip, it will take them hours to figure out what happened.”
“You can’t be too careful these days.” He said. Neither one dared look at the other.
“You’re much too cautious, its borderline cowardly. How did you ever manage to become a high-ranking prison guard, being the coward that you are?”
“I am not a coward!” He yells. The venom in his voice reveals that he’s heard the insult one too many times in his past. He wipes the nervous sweat off of his hands, his eyes darting towards the door every few seconds. “Besides, I broke you out of prison single-handedly, and you’re our highest security prisoner.” There was a note of pride in his voice here, and of rebellion.
“Why would you help me?” She turned to him. They made eye contact for the first time since entering the room. “Why did you help me escape?”
“Because…” He stopped, trying to figure out why he helped her. He had been guarding her for months now, bringing her meals and escorting her to the bathroom or the showers. “I guess it’s because I…uh…I love you.” He stumbled over his words as they fell out of his mouth. He gasped. Those words were not what he had meant to say, though they were the truth. Or so he thought.
He hadn’t noticed until then that she had removed the white button-down shirt he had given her, as well as the dark blue slacks which every prison guard wore as part of their uniform. She was naked underneith that bone-white sheet. The thought of it made him sweat more. He hoped she wouldn’t notice.
“You…love me?” She said, her voice taking on the deep, dark tone of seduction. She began to unwind the sheet from around her body.
“I…uh…y-yes.” He stuttered, staring unblinkingly at her naked body. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman. A very, very long time. Though he knew it was wrong, she was a serial killer for Christ’s sake, he couldn’t help but walk towards her, his eyes drinking in her every curve. He desperatly tried to rationalize what was about to happen, telling himself that she had always been nice to him, and hadn’t she seemed so terribly sorry about what she had done when she told him about it? She had cried for her victims, she deserved a second chance, didn’t she?
“You want me, don’t you.” She told him. It was not a question. He merely nodded, still staring. She walked to him and whispered in his ear, “You want me very badly?” He let out a soft moan. “You want to know how I treat men who want me?” He turned to her, his arms pulling her closer to him as he covered her mouth with his.
The knife flashed in the dim light as it buried itself in his back. He let out a scream that was quickly silenced as she sliced open his throat.
“THIS is how I treat the men who want me!” She yelled, her eyes alight with vicious triumph. She continued stabbing him with her home-made knife as she had stabbed so many other men in her past. He tried to stop her, clawing at her with his hands and kicking at her with his feet, but it was too late. He had already lost too much blood, and his attacks were weak. The last thing he saw was her sadistic grin as she wiped the blood off of her knife and put it back in her pocket.
“Stupid man. Stupid like all the rest. You never should have trusted me. Though I’m not surprised. I don’t expect much from you bastards.”
She washed the blood off of her in the bathroom sink and then found her clothes and put them back on. She checked herself in the mirror, looking for any stray specks of blood that would give her away. Looking at her reflection, she smiled.
“Now to continue my work,” She said to herself, and then left the room, the door clicking shut behind her.
![DAY ONE: FRIDAY, MAY 7TH, 2010. 1:13 AM
PICTURE:
The Changing Perspective by ~aprilXzombie [deviantart]
———————————————————————————————
The world shifted again.No one else seems to notice when this happens. They wake up walking on the ceilings or the walls or walking in midair, and they act as though that’s how it’s always been.Some days I wake up and gravity has disappeared. Or all of a sudden windows are used as doors, and doors aren’t used at all. I’ve woken up with wings, with horns, with telepathic powers.It doesn’t change every day. Sometimes it will wait a few days, a week, a month, maybe even a year, if I get lucky. The only real consistancy is that it always happens while I’m asleep, as if the world is playing a practical joke and I’m the only one not in on the fun.Not that I would be terribly surprised to be the brunt of yet another someone’s sick joke.
I’ve noticed these shifts ever since I was conscious. Maybe I switch dimensions. Maybe the world just does this naturally, but humans are programmed never to notice anything different. Well, most humans, anyway.Since I can remember, my ability to sense these shifts has given me a lot of problems. I’m socially awkward to the point where I don’t even bother trying to befriend people. Whenever the next shift happens they’ll just see me as another freak anyway.I can always immediately notice what the shift is. My brain can just pick it out, whether its just an orientation shift and the world has been flipped, or if I’ve got some new limb i need to deal with. But noticing the changes isn’t enough. Knowing you have tentacles for arms doesn’t mean you know how to use them, and figuring out how to adjust to these shifts is where the problems come in. I’ll try my best to fit in, but no matter how quickly I catch on to whatever new social norms have accompanied the shift, there is always that period of time where I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. Everyone else can sense that I’m an outsider, that I’m not like them. They know immediately that I’m desperately confused, and instead of helping me, they laugh.Freak, weirdo, retard. No matter what shift happens, those words still carry the same meaning. And that meaning always applies to me.
When we were all young, it didn’t matter so much. So I was a little weird, so what? It doesn’t matter at that age; we’re still learning the social norms from our parents. As we grew up, things changed. Suddenly I was the outcast, that social pariah that everyone knows but no one will talk to, for fear of being tainted. Oh, sure, there have been a few brave souls, but the best they could do was say hi to me once or twice before my obvious other-ness got to be too much for them.
No one talks to me. No one acknowledges my presence.And honestly, that’s fine by me. I don’t need them; I don’t need any of them.I’ll just keep waiting for the day when the shift takes them all away somewhere. Then I’ll have the world to myself.
Nothing would make me happier.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l21farxFBi1qbl98vo1_500.jpg)
DAY ONE: FRIDAY, MAY 7TH, 2010. 1:13 AM
PICTURE:
The Changing Perspective by ~aprilXzombie [deviantart]
———————————————————————————————
The world shifted again.
No one else seems to notice when this happens. They wake up walking on the ceilings or the walls or walking in midair, and they act as though that’s how it’s always been.
Some days I wake up and gravity has disappeared. Or all of a sudden windows are used as doors, and doors aren’t used at all. I’ve woken up with wings, with horns, with telepathic powers.
It doesn’t change every day. Sometimes it will wait a few days, a week, a month, maybe even a year, if I get lucky. The only real consistancy is that it always happens while I’m asleep, as if the world is playing a practical joke and I’m the only one not in on the fun.
Not that I would be terribly surprised to be the brunt of yet another someone’s sick joke.
I’ve noticed these shifts ever since I was conscious. Maybe I switch dimensions. Maybe the world just does this naturally, but humans are programmed never to notice anything different. Well, most humans, anyway.
Since I can remember, my ability to sense these shifts has given me a lot of problems. I’m socially awkward to the point where I don’t even bother trying to befriend people. Whenever the next shift happens they’ll just see me as another freak anyway.
I can always immediately notice what the shift is. My brain can just pick it out, whether its just an orientation shift and the world has been flipped, or if I’ve got some new limb i need to deal with. But noticing the changes isn’t enough. Knowing you have tentacles for arms doesn’t mean you know how to use them, and figuring out how to adjust to these shifts is where the problems come in. I’ll try my best to fit in, but no matter how quickly I catch on to whatever new social norms have accompanied the shift, there is always that period of time where I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. Everyone else can sense that I’m an outsider, that I’m not like them. They know immediately that I’m desperately confused, and instead of helping me, they laugh.
Freak, weirdo, retard. No matter what shift happens, those words still carry the same meaning. And that meaning always applies to me.
When we were all young, it didn’t matter so much. So I was a little weird, so what? It doesn’t matter at that age; we’re still learning the social norms from our parents. As we grew up, things changed. Suddenly I was the outcast, that social pariah that everyone knows but no one will talk to, for fear of being tainted. Oh, sure, there have been a few brave souls, but the best they could do was say hi to me once or twice before my obvious other-ness got to be too much for them.
No one talks to me. No one acknowledges my presence.
And honestly, that’s fine by me. I don’t need them; I don’t need any of them.
I’ll just keep waiting for the day when the shift takes them all away somewhere. Then I’ll have the world to myself.
Nothing would make me happier.
Another blog, Caitlin? Really?
yes, really.
this one i really want to try and keep up with.
my plan for this blog is to post a new, random picture (either found online, on my computer, or really anywhere) and then write a story about it. some stories are going to be short. others are going to be long (this will probably be the majority. i’m bad at endings, so i tend to ramble).
maybe some of you will find my stories interesting.
maybe some of these pictures will inspire you, too.
either way, my only real goal is to keep writing. writing anything i can. because thats the only way to get better at it, and since that’s what i want to do, i better practice.
OH. important thing to mention:
unless stated otherwise, all of these stories will be fictional.
i don’t really do nonfiction. ever. so unless i say so, these stories will be fictional. i mention this just in case some of them take a morbid turn. i don’t want anyone to think i stabbed a guy in the lung and then flew to the moon.
well, enjoy!
