manga-daemons

For years, she had sung to the statue in the garden. Hand on his knee, head on his shoulder, looking in the night sky. Deep, dark, distant. The statue and his bronze logic, Organs of alloy, Thoughts of gold. 30 years, and the dent in his shoulder, That inanimate junction capable of all but making a living connection, Had been worn. And it shone like the residents of that Deep, dark, distant, Night sky. Distant, Cold as the look of Death as it goes, Perfect as her pale, pale skin in the Deep, dark, distant Night sky. He hadn't been able to go to that Ceremony.

Torment. Yes. It is not a feeling, like many believe.  It is a state of being.  A tortured, hapless, longing state of pitiful being.   Like when you watch your best friend plunge a dagger through your loved one. Like when you love someone so much that it ails your heart, and the aching of it lingers long after it was ripped out.   Things have changed.  The mindless hum of normalcy has terminated.  In comes the Age of Death, Depression, Instability, and Lust. All of which have controlled every aspect of my self-worth. Sickly crows picking at the carrion of a hero fallen from Grace. We cannot blame the crows. "We stopped hiding from mo

Hi!! ur prooly really annoyed at me (: for not scanning and posting anything...but that will change soon! (i bet i've said that like a million times already) so far, i owe you 22 drawings and bunch of guilty faces :) :) :) <3 but anyhow. i will be uploading drawings on sunday. wheee!!!!!!! see ya.