Comments Posted By circinus
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He doesn’t know how he ever became attracted to the thought of making that reserved boy his best friend. Maybe it was the way his chin was angled, or the way his eyes were studiously calculating future possibilities. Or maybe it was the sanguine eyes; quiet and cold, despite the fanning flame it resembled.
Or maybe, it was just fate. But isn’t that a bit cliche.
» Posted By Circinus On 11.23.2011 @ 2:02 am
Each world has its own rules, and each rule is governed by its own world. The Universe, The World, The Arcanum of the Fools… all of which are revealed through them. There is no freedom, yet there are no boundaries.
It’s a complex thing.
» Posted By Circinus On 11.20.2011 @ 4:21 pm
Why hello, good morning, and how do you do? Did you notice the pepper spice in your smile lately?
Why good afternoon, wonderful day isn’t it, you’re such a beautiful girl. Do you notice the glitter in your eyes lately?
» Posted By Circinus On 11.19.2011 @ 11:13 pm
Your mind is shuffling thoughts, and you can’t see nor understand that I’m not who you think I am. I am translucent yet touchable, and I have a voice, and those same red eyes you used to see. But you forgot, you forgot. I’m not me. I’m buried deep in the ground, and I’m screaming at you to wake up, wake up.
» Posted By Circinus On 11.19.2011 @ 4:30 am
You’re a fickle thing. You ask and tug on her heartstrings. But she doesn’t hear you, because she won’t listen. Her heart is too small to let you in, and your heart is too big that it’s overwhelming. Because for the first time, you feel something. And you don’t know if that’s a good thing.
» Posted By Circinus On 11.17.2011 @ 3:38 am
There’s this noise in my head, a cacophony of sounds and whispers and screams and screeches, and I can’t breathe but I hear my heart beating too fast, too slow, and nothing makes sense anymore.
» Posted By Circinus On 11.15.2011 @ 5:29 am
The world is abstract. Everyone isn’t defined, and everything has no meaning. Or maybe there is, but we can’t comprehend it. The future is unknown, and the past is uncertain. Our reality is warped (is it even true?), and the present is the only thing we are certain of. The only thing we can keep. (Or can we?)
You are abstract. Your eyes hold the world, your fingertips touch the stars. You’re surreal, and that’s why I’m drawn to you.
» Posted By Circinus On 11.13.2011 @ 10:53 pm
In the beginning, there was darkness. There was a void that could not be filled up. There was silence, and there was nothing.
In the end, there was still darkness. But amongst the floating mass of shadows lie silhouettes. And how can you see silhouettes, if there is not even a glimmer of light?
In the middle, there was a boy. This is his story.
» Posted By Circinus On 11.11.2011 @ 9:05 pm
“I want to leave my mark on this world. To caress it with my fingertips, leaving fingerprints and the scent of me. To imprint my name, and make myself immortal even after death. To be known, to have fame. To be free.”
“Free huh? But isn’t that more like a prison?”
» Posted By Circinus On 11.10.2011 @ 6:01 am
Autumn is so cliche, or so she thinks. She’s a poet who writes of spring and summer and dreary winter, but she hates autumn because everyone finds it too pensive, too emo, and too thanksgiving. She’s not mediocre, and she’s not a follower, and she hates how people feel like they’re real poets just because they talk about autumn.
But then, as long as you lace blank sheets with pretty words, anyone would call you a poet.
» Posted By Circinus On 11.08.2011 @ 5:18 am
They were best friends, stranded in the mountain with punctured tires and dwindling rations. He wonders how his best friend can stand these subzero temperatures with a sleeveless vest and threadbare shirt. But he does, and that’s why he’s superhuman in his eyes.
» Posted By Circinus On 11.05.2011 @ 11:46 pm
It’s a combination of power and mercy, of passion and lust, of contradictions and harmony, of love and hate. You can’t hold it, you can’t understand it. It’s not within your realm of understanding, or within the limits of your logic. It’s freedom, it’s misery, it’s ecstasy.
» Posted By Circinus On 11.03.2011 @ 9:28 pm
You’re holding my hand under the table whilst my hand slips in between your legs. Your breath hitches, and you try not to make any noise because we’re in a restaurant and it will just be disturbing. You’re tense, but I whisper passionate words in your ears and your eyes meet some sort of haze as you become more relaxed and out of it.
» Posted By Circinus On 11.01.2011 @ 9:28 am
The way their relationship worked was three-fourths based on their common artistic sense, and a quarter based on actual feelings. They though that, as long as they made their relationship beautiful, they’ll learn to love each other in the long run. At least, when it came to, they didn’t have to argue about who goes in the front seat of the car. They know when the painting deserves that priority more.
» Posted By Circinus On 10.27.2011 @ 12:30 am
We move, we synchronize.
We drink, we eat, we sleep, we live.
We lock eyes, we kiss, we marry, and have kids.
We work, you die, I grieve.
» Posted By Circinus On 10.25.2011 @ 4:29 am
Squirtle used Bubblebeam!
Squirtle is fast asleep.
Pidgey used Gust. Critical hit!
What should Squirtle do?
Trainer Ben used Awakening on Squirtle! Squirtle woke up!
» Posted By Circinus On 10.23.2011 @ 9:28 pm
Do you know the feeling of summer stares amidst winter days? When your heart wells up and it springs out from your chest, beat beat beating harshly against sheer ice and howling winds? It happens when someone’s smile cannot keep the sunshine to themselves.
» Posted By Circinus On 10.13.2011 @ 3:21 am
He is moving out.
He hands me a stack of boxes, and I put them in the trunk. We move about the house silently, and neither one of us wants to break the stillness. When he leaves, he doesn’t say goodbye, and neither do I.
» Posted By Circinus On 10.10.2011 @ 11:05 pm
The perfect setting of the sun colored the sky with orange and pink. Everything looked surreal. I held her hand, and she squeezed. We lingered in that moment, knowing that we will soon be separated sisters of different eras. She is makeshift serenity and I am dashed adventures. The sun was the only thing that connected us.
» Posted By Circinus On 10.06.2011 @ 7:10 pm
I am conflicted morality and sinful virtues. I tower over angels and bow down to mortals. I am power, I am temptation. I am passion.
» Posted By Circinus On 10.05.2011 @ 5:46 am
I suppose it started last May, where the sun was too hot and everything made my skin was sticky. I knocked on the door, and when it opened, I was met with baby blue eyes. To this day, those eyes still continue to haunt my dreams.
» Posted By Circinus On 10.04.2011 @ 4:39 am
She grabbed the rock to her right with trembling hands and sweaty palms. She curses. “Inhale. Exhale,” she tells herself. “You can do this.”
She’s pressed on the wall, and there’s this intangible fear of falling. But she can’t look down, because her heart is jumping up at her throat and she’s afraid that she might leave it behind when she lets go.
» Posted By Circinus On 09.25.2011 @ 7:08 pm
We’re at the bar, laughing at all the stupid dancing and flushed faces. Because alcohol never tasted this good, not with weed – no, of course not. And it’s not me that’s crouching down on the floor in search of golden beetles. And it’s not you that’s shouting obscenities at the lamp post. No, not us.
We’re not drunk. The streetlights just look a little brighter, and everything’s electric blue for some reason.
» Posted By Circinus On 09.21.2011 @ 7:54 am
Show me your concern. Make those eyes big and round, and maybe I’ll realize that you care for these petty things that clutter my mind. Speak your thoughts and pierce my heart. Be my older brother, and I’ll feel safe.
» Posted By Circinus On 09.19.2011 @ 4:45 am
Rain doesn’t kill the fire.
The grass is singed. The smoke is suffocating. Everything is burning. Bullets fly around and you have no time to think because you just run, run, run. But it’s not enough in this shootout.
» Posted By Circinus On 09.18.2011 @ 10:08 am
Take into account everything she preaches. Stop thinking about the way her full lips dance into a smile, or how religious her silk dress might feel on your skin, or how her embrace feels like thunder and roses, or how picturesque she—
Take into account everything she speaks. Please.
» Posted By Circinus On 09.15.2011 @ 5:57 am
Back and forth. Back and forth. The child covered her ears, pressing in deeply because everything her parents say were explosive and spiteful and splintering and hurtful and-
They keep rallying words to each other. Back and forth. Back and forth. The child doesn’t know what do. She closes her eyes and screams.
» Posted By Circinus On 09.13.2011 @ 2:01 pm
He’s always observing.
He can’t help it. He has to hover behind her back, make sure she doesn’t kill herself.
» Posted By Circinus On 09.12.2011 @ 2:46 am
There’s a lilt in her voice when she talks. She’s no plain-Jane-wallflower-pretty-on-the-inside-girl. She’s set apart and distinct and distinguished – the sole reason I pulled her up onstage from the roaring crowd or like-faced teenagers in eyeliner and skinny jeans. And that’s when I knew we had our lead singer.
» Posted By Circinus On 09.11.2011 @ 7:03 am
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Her lips were clipped with secret thoughts and clandestine words. How much of the present can she keep to herself, and for how long?
» Posted By Circinus On 09.09.2011 @ 7:17 pm