Comments Posted By Ian

Displaying 121 To 150 Of 349 Comments

knows

“She knows”

“What do you mean she knows?” I asked.

“I mean she KNOWS, you idiot! About what we did!”

“No, it’s impossible. We made sure- ABSOLUTELY SURE- she wouldn’t find us out!”

As I said that, my heart started fluttering like a moth in my chest; she can’t know about what me and Damien are doing: she can’t find out about the dirty shovels laying in the back of the 2008 Toyota sitting in the driveway, she can’t find out about the mysterious disappearance of Linda Mourier, the woman who’s been extorting us for years- she can’t find out about the fact that we murdered her, last night, and know she’s quietly decomposing in a shallow grave in the mountains 2 hours away.

» Posted By Ian On 12.22.2012 @ 4:15 pm

season

Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la, la la, la, la.
Good ol Christmas. Gotta love celebrating Christ’s birth! I’m so blessed to know the truth about God and Jesus and this holiday season.

» Posted By Ian On 12.20.2012 @ 11:15 am

sate

He needed to sate his appetite. It overwhelmed him and took over his senses, until all he knew was the gnawing, vacuous hole in his stomach that thirsted for the blood of the innocent. His entire body sang even at the thought of the blood running through someone’s veins, and then he knew- he had no choice- he had to have it.

» Posted By Ian On 12.20.2012 @ 6:24 am

due

I worked every overtime my jobs offered. I sweated day and night from job to job to job. We need our shelter and warmth. The rent was due the next morning.

» Posted By Ian On 12.17.2012 @ 5:08 am

Due the graphic nature of the following para graph, I’d like to warn you now that if you are distubed by absolute truth, please look away now.

» Posted By Ian On 12.17.2012 @ 5:05 am

simple

Clean cut walls…white walls, are boring, so let’s run through colors of paint and decorate.

» Posted By Ian On 12.05.2012 @ 2:29 pm

draw

I know several people, whom I met in college, that love to draw. The ability to draw well seems to come quite naturally to them. The way their pencil flows effortlessly over the paper converting white nothing into some of the most fantastic works of art I have seen. When these artists turn up and perform almost effortlessly, I wonder how they developed such a stout ability and love for drawing

» Posted By Ian On 11.11.2012 @ 3:53 pm

happy

She thought she was happy, but all this time, she just forgot what it meant to be sad. Emptiness was all there was and all there would be. Why couldn’t she be happy? Why couldn’t he be happy?

» Posted By Ian On 10.08.2012 @ 8:34 am

I am not happy. This whole “happy” concept is as elusive as trying to hold all my buckets of have-not-yet-lived tears, as gripping hands with the ghosts I sleep with every night. I am not happy. I will never be happy with this silence suffocating my insides.

» Posted By Ian On 10.07.2012 @ 1:42 pm

I am not happy. I consider this “happy” concept to be as elusive as trying to hold buckets of tears in my palms, or gripping hands with the ghosts I sleep with at night. I am not happy. I will never be happy with silence choking at my insides.

» Posted By Ian On 10.07.2012 @ 1:39 pm

signs

When I was walking down the street I there were signs on all the windows. As the dust blew up from the wind, I noticed that each sign said “Do Not Stop.” I thought that was strange, since I would not be able to enter there store. Then I heard a noise and noticed that a twister was coming. The signs to stop were a warning.

» Posted By Ian On 10.02.2012 @ 8:20 am

all the signs point to you.

Its your fault.
Its your responsibility.

you can fix it.
no one else.

just you.

alone.

good luck with that.

» Posted By Ian On 10.01.2012 @ 1:17 pm

All the signs point the same direction.

You’re wrong.
You’re wrong.
You’re wrong.

She’s right, and you’re wrong.

No.

The signs are wrong. They have to be wrong.
They have to be.
Right?

» Posted By Ian On 10.01.2012 @ 1:02 pm

before

Before this all happened, I was a piece of a different puzzle. A cog in a different machine. The gears have changed and aren’t the same, and I now I am starting to feel the spin. Before it came, I never knew how it worked and now I’m just about sure.

» Posted By Ian On 09.24.2012 @ 4:25 pm

fried

the sleepless nights in college made me wanna get a gun and shoot myself. my brain is so fried i can’t even spell right. however, i want to get in shape so goin insane on shaun-t will solve my issue right now. no more fried pickles up in this mouth. tired of exercising to burn a few calories off of my belly.

» Posted By ian On 09.15.2012 @ 6:27 am

headphones

can’t listen to you because i’m wearing my headphones all the time. i feel like a zombie because all i hear is lies. i’d rather be deaf than listen to all the bullshit that comes out from your mouth. lying and saying you’ll change your ways once and for all. please do and stop lying once again. put on your headphones on your head.

» Posted By ian On 09.08.2012 @ 11:49 pm

zone

Trainers squeak on the polished floor. Shadows of tall figures loom, hands hovering. Blocking.

A ball is thrown quickly across the court. Caught by your friend in the red shorts.

He leaps upon the air, his hand forces the ball forward. Towards the net.

In the zone.

» Posted By Ian On 08.16.2012 @ 1:07 pm

banks

He leans forward, left hand making a visor over his eyes. From the sunshine.

Squinting, he presses the number on the keypad. Again. He leans his forehead against the brick wall above the console.

He lets out a sigh. Card withheld again.

‘Banks!’ he mutters, before marching by the lady in the queue behind him.

» Posted By Ian On 08.13.2012 @ 3:32 pm

camera

Figures jostling for position around the table at a party. No one was expecting Uncle Ralph as he had been away for the last three months. A glass gets knocked over as Grandma Lou sits herself down. Five generations of the family together, for the first time since I don’t know when.

And where is my camera?

» Posted By Ian On 08.02.2012 @ 4:26 pm

methods

Methods. Of madness.
Methods. Of instruction.
Instruction of madness.
The madness of instructions.
There is destruction in the madness.
There is method to deconstruction.

» Posted By Ian On 08.01.2012 @ 3:13 am

losses

Losses and gains
Pleasure and pains
You win some,
You love some.
Up, then a down
Smile, then a frown.

» Posted By Ian On 07.30.2012 @ 3:55 pm

turbine

Turbines are really nice because back in the 60’s when they were first made, people pronounced it turban instead. Which I think is hilarious.

» Posted By ian On 07.09.2012 @ 12:42 pm

detention

one day i was detained during school. it was such bullshit to go into detention. all because i had a pipe with me. no weed, though. i was smoking in the morning before school started. i didn’t know the fucking security guard was coming around the corner, so i inhaled that shit real quick and ashed it. he caught me with the pipe, so i am here. in detention.

» Posted By ian On 07.07.2012 @ 9:06 am

keen

“You’re awful keen, aren’t you?” She said coyly and she pushed him away. Since she watched him ingest so many drinks she sort of knew why he was so eager- but something still told her that there was more to this than just a bit of alcohol.

“Ah c’mon will ye?” he said, getting slightly annoyed; he wouldn’t be getting so pissed off if it weren’t for him being actually pissed in the first place.

» Posted By Ian On 06.19.2012 @ 6:02 am

pour

The rain poured relentlessly as a torrent of silver daggers cascaded from the black thunderclouds, gushing over the knife’s-edge of the horizon like a gush of dark water. It plashed against exposed skin and sent quivering shivers, wild and animalistic, cascading throughout the sutures of my skin like bolts of electricity.

» Posted By Ian On 06.17.2012 @ 3:35 am

stunt

Here’s what I did. I pulled a stunt. You could cal it that. I kissed her when she told me she no longer felt it was a good idea. After everything we had been through, I put everything into that kiss. It was a stunt because it was dangerous. She kissed me back.

» Posted By Ian On 05.26.2012 @ 7:19 pm

poster

The old, shrivelled poster hung on the wall, there for so long it seemed to become part of the wall itself. The red bricks it stuck too were old and faded, built decades, even centuries ago. The poster itself wasn’t even legible any more.

But this was the place. I sat there, waiting for my rendezvous with the mysterious stranger; he promised he had information about Damien, my son who went missing a year ago, but even though I didn’t usually fall for this bullshit something told me this was different- something told me that this guy meant business. Every time something moved, maybe a mouse skittering across the warehouse floor, or the wind causing the old metallic escape door creak on it’s hinges, I thought it was him. Eventually however I heard footsteps approaching, and the stranger, from an unknown view point, addressed me with his dark voice.

» Posted By Ian On 04.26.2012 @ 12:09 pm

ruby

The lustrous, deep red ruby glimmered in the low light. Holding it to the flickering illumination that the small candle provided, he saw the crimson contours of the flame reflect and dance in the many facets of the gem. He had truly uncovered a price.

» Posted By Ian On 04.06.2012 @ 1:39 pm

hood

I pulled the hood of my favourite jumper of my favourite hoodie over my head and then opened the door, walking out into the pouring rain. The contrast between the gentle warmth of the house, and the freezing, wet winter air of outside was immediately noticeable, the goosebumps on my airs raising in anticipation for the icy cold that hung, suspended, in the late autumn weather.

» Posted By Ian On 04.05.2012 @ 11:21 am

She could hear the heavy breathing, just over her left shoulder. She paused, afraid to turn round. Afraid to keep walking. She felt a hand reach onto her shoulder. She catches a reflection in the window. The hood.

» Posted By Ian On 04.04.2012 @ 3:46 pm

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