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highanxiety

creativity-when-depressed-part-two

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Riddled with ridicule, my face and my home,

Something to someone I make to my own,

Warm to the heart, far from my facade,

Something to someone the words that I made.

 

 

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Oh, for want of a bitter winter
Barren and carpeted with snow
And aching to give icy clarity
To this bitter winter.

Oh, for want of a thunderstorm
To wash away the conceit
And give unrepentant encouragement
To this thunderstorm.

Oh, for want of an infinite heartbreak
To ease a troubled mind
And satiate a pained heart's need
For this heartbreak.

Oh, for want of a tragedy
Longing for a reason
An explanation
For this tragedy.

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Fun

You still don't see do you?
You only see red
But I don't bleed that way, it's true
Instead it's fat and flesh

You will though
Maybe it will be too late
And then you'll know
YOU sealed my fate

Are we having fun yet?

Slivers from your eyes
Invisible silence
Stabbing my blue skies
Causing my defiance

The physical pain
Just to sit down
Keeps me sane
As I drown

Fun, eh?

Black holes of starvation
Consume me for my life
They swallow me and when done
Eat me from inside

My muscles shrink
My organs dilapidate
All I can do is think
Just think and wait

to see your face...that will be fun.




 

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10 hours ago, StillStandinTall said:

@velvetpuddles

My fav is the dandelion one - like your post the other day of feeling like one. very Van Gogh'ish

My second place is the dresser. Super cool. Kinda reminds me of the Grinch.

you are very talented.

Thanks! I made the dandelion one for my mother as payment for a bike she randomly sent to me. Purposefully made it brighter and more cheerful for her; I seem to use darker colors more naturally.

Anyway, I appreciate it! It's a hobby...fills my boring and dreary evenings and keeps me distracted, haha.

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hold on, they say 

but there are no hands to hold

stay strong, they say 

but my heart can’t take

move on, they say 

why can’t they see that I’m trying 

stay, they say

please, let me go 

 

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On 5/31/2018 at 8:36 PM, velvetpuddles said:

Holy hell. Those are quite nice. Recently finished a sleeve on my arm of water waves on a beach. I should take a pic really resembles that first one hah. But I friggin dig that red one. Its ****in speakin to me. 

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Perishing my minutes for promenade,

Made the slaves of time into miracles,

For death is where thy life be weighed,

The day my fanatism was not in favor,

I have been trying to remember when,

The things before me, the trillion years,

Do you fear you'll dissapear into that?

Made from stars, descendant darkness.

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It's been a long time, friends.

This one is for my ex. She is married now and I'm happy she has someone who loves her.

 

Time doesn't heal wounds.
Only love can heal pain.

I may not have gone through abuse
as you have,
but I ran through rain.

So, I needed too what you needed from me
and I gave what I had, though we needed more

I looked in you, but
I saw myself and I turned away.

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10 hours ago, glfinding said:

Holy hell. Those are quite nice. Recently finished a sleeve on my arm of water waves on a beach. I should take a pic really resembles that first one hah. But I friggin dig that red one. Its ****in speakin to me. 

Yeah, I'd love to see! Sounds like an awesome tattoo!

Thanks! You zeroed in on my favorite two! The red one is actually the same painting I posted a while back. Something about it just bothered me. That one is so special to me now; I'd had that canvas half painted for years and it caused me so much grief and angst; then it just clicked one day when I couldn't stop staring at it, lol!

I appreciate the feedback!

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The last person i dated was a painter. She was talented. At the time she was everything to me. Was a devastating loss. Took a long time to heal. Anyways she gave me a painting for a bday once. After a couple years of healing i took it out of my closet and painted over it. Felt terrific. Like shedding my skin. 

Hello 4 am :). Im still here.

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2 hours ago, glfinding said:

The last person i dated was a painter. She was talented. At the time she was everything to me. Was a devastating loss. Took a long time to heal. Anyways she gave me a painting for a bday once. After a couple years of healing i took it out of my closet and painted over it. Felt terrific. Like shedding my skin. 

Hello 4 am :). Im still here.

That must've been amazing to do! Even makes me a little jealous that I don't have anything like that from passed loves to repurpose! I suppose I could paint on photos... that might actually be pretty cool.

Do you still have that painting? I'd never let it go...as a reminder of your ability to move on and transform, no pain needs to be permanently debilitating, that sort of thing!

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I would lead this into a beginning,
Demonstration of ancient antiquity,
But the moment grows evermore,
A constant struggle of my humility,

As I pass the hand that grasps me a plan,
As I make my marks of glyphs and lines,
I arrive to question the creation's demand,
The pen is to never keep up with the times,

 

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I know you

I have wandered your dreams and remember

The taste of metal and dust I often found

Pressed between my lips upon waking

You, in turn, have stood where I now stand

At the edge of time's cruel blade

Restless for wings that refuse to grow

Hungry for a change that cannot be hurried

 

I know you

I met you in passing each time I charged

Wildly into life's grand maze, only to lose myself

A little more at each wrong turn and dead end

I heard your voice from every dark corner

Screams that could not have been dreamt

Your cries of pain gave me courage to press on

Through nightmarish scenes of my own

 

I know you

I have breathed your air and felt the stirring

Of a heart trapped by ice, which melts into tearful floods

Then freezes again, thicker than before

We have forged a bond in the fires of torment

Whose flames consume from within and never surface

Leaving no trace for the critical eyes of others

 

I know you

We are the same, we soldiers whose souls

Shine brighter for the darkness we call home

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Branches curled, clenched,
Crescent moon carvings.
Anemic, arthritic sapling
Paralyzed by starlight.

Penitent, relentless thunder,
Lightning upon my thigh.
My shin.
My tender, leaden flesh.

My own Everest surges
Between the fitful, drenching blows.
A weathered, soaring mount,
The Holy Mother of mayhem.

Tempest blown plum leaves
Stain a cabernet painted tarn.
Scars of the night-born storm
That the delicate trees could not stand.

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(I just found this, I don't even remember writing it. It's being posted with limited edits.)

there’s a part of me that will never belong to you
i keep it even from myself
it hides in the shadows of my self
it never makes a sound
although sometimes it screams so loud
it never sees the sunlight
but for some reason it just won’t die
even though i wish it would
even though i wish i could pretend it doesn’t exist
because then i could pretend to be happy
then i could believe the lies i tell myself
and everything would be so much more simple
but that’s not how life works
nothing is ever simple
life is suffering and longing for things you can’t have and don’t even deserve
why do i get up in the morning
what is my purpose
would if matter if i died?
could that be any worse than how i’m feeling

there’s a part of me that’s dark and cold
unredeemable and bitter and frail
and i would never trust you with it
because i’ve learned that trusting never works out
and i’ve learned that hoping is an exercise in frustration
and that wanting to be more takes more boldness than i possess
and i wish i could purge myself of wanting,
of needing and of hoping
i wish i could feel nothing at all
if it meant never feeling this
and that I could burn away the parts that should never be seen
the parts that seep out when i’m too tired to fight them
maybe none of this is about you
maybe everything is about me
everything in the world
there is nothing else but me
i am my universe
i am my own death
i cut myself on the inside
because no one else can see the bleeding
but sometimes i wish you could
but i know i would never let that happen.
 

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Wow really like these. Sugar and velvet both have great flow and imagery. Is that how you spell that? Prolly not. Eva really hits the nail on the head on how depression can feel. 

Edited by glfinding

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By the skin of our bodies,

We penatrate what we pronounce,

Illusion to our lack of recognition,

I see the blood leave without me,

 

The set of lights become symphony,

Searching this surgical suggestion,

And perhaps this is a physical precense,

For the spirit to wander into the sky,

 

Let us sway to the breeze, 

Dawning onto our faceless planet,

I direct my attention to standards,

Planting myself worthy of a universe,

 

 

Have been trying to write something on the subject of virtual reality. Have been on ps4 vr pretty hard for a few months. Interesting how it makes me feel. Simply, it is quite amazing. It could be used boundlessly. Maybe tech isnt there yet. But the way it challenges you to rethink, is what interests me. Basically im a pro, i own top 20 scores in all sneaky bears lvls, i cant complete a round in farpoint everyone quits, look up a game called polybius ask me if how i completed whole run yolo. I am def immersed. Real world almost completly dead to me.

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On 7/8/2018 at 3:34 PM, glfinding said:

By the skin of our bodies,

We penatrate what we pronounce,

Illusion to our lack of recognition,

I see the blood leave without me,

 

The set of lights become symphony,

Searching this surgical suggestion,

And perhaps this is a physical precense,

For the spirit to wander into the sky,

 

Let us sway to the breeze, 

Dawning onto our faceless planet,

I direct my attention to standards,

Planting myself worthy of a universe,

 

I could grow into this mutation of senses,

Based upon historic and current events,

Will the feathers from your wings flutter?

Stretched from cloud to cloud again?

 

This place lacks the permanence I require,

My desire to destroy any hope of succession,

I place on the top, a special human,

Alone inside groups, cradled civilation,

 

It is like my curosity of the moon,

But the oxygen outside our atmosphere,

Grants me the passage of a corpse,

In front of my gravity without a grasp,

 

The tears they weap for another defeat,

Music to the ears of mine in my design,

I think we want to hurt eachother,

Only because we hate ourselves,

 

Regardless of the romantic symantics,

I have been born many times for this,

And all roads to here, the virtual weaponery,

Isolated by the very violence we witness,

 

Never is easy, probably anyways,

My task provides daunting expectation,

Finish first before the world,

Without you breathing next to me.

Edited by glfinding

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@glfinding I just love how you write! Beautiful word choices.

7 hours ago, glfinding said:

It is like my curosity of the moon,

But the oxygen outside our atmosphere,

Grants me the passage of a corpse,

In front of my gravity without a grasp,

 

7 hours ago, glfinding said:

Finish first before the world,

Without you breathing next to me.

I love these two passages!

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Appreciate it velvet. Posted up on other forum. Was not recieved well. I was kinda upset. But i get it. I sound crazy. Maybe one day i will write something happy. 

Edited by glfinding

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Helios

 

The oppressive weight
like a feather in the wind.
Hopelessly loaded
In the core,
In the depths 
Of a dream.

Waking up under a
Sky with a sleeping moon
And hazy air
The heavy dampness
Suffocating,
Starving
A stifled breath.

Tell me, tattoed sun -
Can you clear the fog.
To the calloused hand reaching into the ether
For a forest of lust - 
Can you grasp
The feeling of falling.
Can you hold in your fingers
The fragility of a star
That shattered into ash
And surrendered to the night.
The frayed plume
That tumbled
And caved to the ennui.

The Icelus wants you.
The darkness needs you.

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