Comments Posted By Darion

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We measure our lives in fragments. Childhood, our teenage years, adulthood, elderly. Our memories are simply fragments of time in our mind. Each person only has a measured amount of time that no living being can tell until it’s ended. Does it end after death? Only the dead know. It’s something the living ponder at quite frantically. Live life to the fullest, for your ruler might end sooner than you think.

» Posted By Darion On 09.19.2013 @ 3:50 pm


A simple swig is all it takes to put me off the stuff for good. Bitter, a taste I can hardly describe, causes my face to contort and my nose to wrinkle. Swallowing does nothing to end the disgust. The taste lingers and I have nothing to wrinse it from my mouth.

» Posted By Darion On 05.07.2013 @ 8:16 pm


I used to love those hands of yours. The way you walked and smiled. Your cute little laugh and how you were so passionate about babies and natural parenting. Now I hate it. I hate all of it. I hate everything you are as a whole. At your center is a religion that you chose over me. A religion that has you deem me a sinful mistake. You are christian. You are enemy.

» Posted By Darion On 04.29.2013 @ 1:03 pm


The baby wails loudly, yet another thing to grind on my nerves. I sip my coffee and glare out the window, trying to bear it if only for the fact that it was now pouring outside, and I forgot my coat. Eventually, it was too much for me to handle and I chose to face the rain instead of the tolerating the ear piercing shrieks any longer.

» Posted By Darion On 01.29.2013 @ 5:23 pm


Cool waters lapped against her feet. She tilted her head back, feeling the cool breeze blow her head around her. It was a nice day for a bath. She slipped into the spring, completely content. She felt at peace in the waters. Like she was born from them.

» Posted By Darion On 01.28.2013 @ 9:37 am


She spoke through her hands. Quick, elegant movements without the use of her vocal chords. She could not laugh, she could not yell. The noise of her hands touching and whirling through the air was the sound of her voice. It was lovely.

» Posted By Darion On 01.26.2013 @ 2:29 pm

She spoke. Her words rung out across the room, quieting the unruly crowd. They stared. She fidgeted nervously with her hair. She shook her head.
“This war has gone on for too long!” She called out again. The crowd began to murmur.

» Posted By Darion On 01.26.2013 @ 2:20 pm


I’m not even sure I really know what a montage is. I think (and am probably wrong) in being certain that its a large group of things. No! Wait! Well, kind of. Usually its pictures and stuff right? Like those slideshows they show at school when you graduate or something important happens.

» Posted By Darion On 05.31.2011 @ 2:15 pm


I don’t remember when it all started. One minute I was sitting at my desk, working on my paperwork and the next I heard Laura screaming from the cubicle next door. I’m going to have to assume that survival instinct took over because I don’t remember what happened between then and now, where’ I’m sitting outside Detroit, watching it burn.

» Posted By Darion On 05.31.2011 @ 10:40 am

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