Comments Posted By John Doe
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 76 Comments
I’ve never been brave. I never had the time. While somewhere out in the world vague heroes were scaling mountains, putting out fires and taking away the knife from their throats, I was busy trying just to get buy.
» Posted By John Doe On 08.06.2015 @ 1:22 pm
“Three things are central to any normal person’s life.
Love, heart and family”.
“But my family is gone, my lover is dead and my heart is broken…”
» Posted By John Doe On 07.30.2015 @ 1:58 am
He realised that all his life he had banked on the prospect that he would, at some vague indeterminate point, develop into a different person for whom life would bow down. But as the hairs on his hands grew longer, he realised that death was coming…
» Posted By John Doe On 07.25.2015 @ 4:52 am
“Have you ever felt like the person who loved you, didn’t really love you?”
“Well, yeah, of course… that’s how some people are. They don’t see you as a person, not really. To them, you’re more of a sacrificial goat against their fears, their anxieties — of death, of love, whatever.”
“It’s just that sometimes I feel like bait for the jaws of some animal…”
» Posted By John Doe On 07.22.2015 @ 3:12 am
“Life is just like a big book that God wrote at the start of the universe, and in that book, everything is already written out.”
“I like the idea, but you have some of the details wrong. God isn’t a writer; he’s a director. We’re not characters; we’re actors. There is no text but a screenplay, and there is always room for improvisation.”
» Posted By John Doe On 07.18.2015 @ 5:56 am
He ran through visions, simulations in his ind, trying to manipulate mental algebra to come up with a solution to the weight which so oppressed him. It was no use. His shoulders cracked; the muscles in his neck split and burst as his head was pushed down with a force so precise as to be almost mathematical…
» Posted By John Doe On 07.16.2015 @ 3:00 am
Another long drag on the cigarette. Another way of stretching out the silence between them, avoiding, if only for a second more, having to speak. Because they both knew that when the first word had been spoken, what would be said afterwards could never be taken back.
» Posted By John Doe On 07.14.2015 @ 4:18 am
The darkness of the stable only accentuated the bright frenzy in their eyes. Clad in old British steel, they shrunk back into their holes, wild legs tripping over one another, nearly frothing at the mouth. They all knew what was going to happen.
» Posted By John Doe On 07.03.2015 @ 2:23 am
The fries had no taste, brought on no sensation except a greasy heat in the dark pit of his stomach. With nothing else to occupy his mind, he counted how many were in the packet, and from that tried to guess how many starving children in Brazil or wherever had died to get them for him.
» Posted By John Doe On 07.02.2015 @ 3:42 am
Luck wasn’t a matter of things just happening to you, he had learnt after may years of toil and misery. It was being presented with possibilities, opportunities which you could use — which you could exploit — to your own ends. This was the moral and the method by which he lived his life.
» Posted By John Doe On 07.01.2015 @ 1:36 am
Friends, dreams, love, smiles — these are the jewelery of life. But what, then, of the ascetics of this world? I feel no desire to be a holy hermit, sitting in a mountain hut singing songs to Christ, but neither do I want to subsume myself into this world of artifice and gold…
» Posted By John Doe On 06.30.2015 @ 3:19 am
The window was open a crack: as his speed increased, so did the intensity of the high-pitched whistling from the wind hurtling past. It was no coincidence that to him it sounded like a scream, and only prompted him to accelerate.
» Posted By John Doe On 06.29.2015 @ 12:44 am
His sunglasses had a peculiar effect or tint to them — obviously custom-made — some kind of spanning horizontal bars which ran over the entire frame. It gave, quite strikingly, the impression of tiny metal gates being places over his eyes. Or prison bars.
» Posted By John Doe On 06.28.2015 @ 2:33 am
Living day-to-day is not something that should require tactical skill or advanced techniques. Breathing, though an art, demands no mastery; those for whom this is not true are the truly damned of this world.
» Posted By John Doe On 06.27.2015 @ 1:13 am
Following her through the trees of the forest, past the skeleton leaves carpeting the dry floor, our footsteps beating out an unnatural rhythm to whatever wildlife might have deigned to listen. No words, no thoughts. Only the feeling of hot breath, of a pain in the chest. Laughing.
» Posted By John Doe On 06.26.2015 @ 3:14 am
He had known there was something wrong from the moment they walked in the door. It was nothing clear-cut, nothing he could bring them up on. But still, it was there. A wayward twitch of their fingers. A dried stain on their shirt, a crumpled sleeve. That look.
» Posted By John Doe On 06.25.2015 @ 12:52 am
The client was anonymous. They all were, these days. Either no-one had the balls to show their face when they came to my office, or — and this was the more likely option — no-one wanted to suffer the hit to their reputation that would come from contracting someone of my profession. My peculiar, singular profession…
» Posted By John Doe On 06.24.2015 @ 4:43 am
As the court deliberated over the convicted felons previous crimes and the punishment he would now incur a feeling of unease passed over the courtroom. Mr. John Eames a career criminal with over 20 charges of fraud to his name sat in front of the judge laughing hysterically. The judge, and in particular the witness to the murder of Ms. Barnes were noticeably disturbed and at a loss for what to do. Unremorseful or insane was an argument being replayed over and over by the jurors
» Posted By John Doe On 04.29.2015 @ 4:52 am
He was a muse to them, a living embodiment of their ideals and philosophy. When his speakings were in accordance with their beliefs, all was well; when they were not, it was a time of justifications and loopholes, of convenient quote-mining and outright lies. Such is the nature of being enthralled to a muse.
» Posted By John Doe On 10.12.2014 @ 1:25 pm
Does not not start or end with an s
It begins with a fall
The point in which you break.
Real sucess is feared by all,
It’s what you call the man who got kicked down,
Even though he is bound to stand tall
Sucess never starts with an S.
It begins with a single F.
» Posted By John doe On 10.01.2014 @ 6:38 pm
Out here in the waste lands, where there’s no grass left, I like watching the wind brush past the scraggling bushes still rooted in the ground. It gives me hope; I hope I’m interpreting the symbolism correctly.
» Posted By John Doe On 09.03.2014 @ 1:04 pm
As a gust of wind will send packets of leaves fluttering along the ground, so did the sight of her rouse a multitude of bad memories in his mind. And, also like the wind, they were seemingly eternal – a force of nature…
» Posted By John Doe On 08.25.2014 @ 3:48 pm
I will not plead, or beg. I am not a dog, and I won’t grovel at your feet for scraps. Besides, you’re the only bitch here.
» Posted By John Doe On 08.23.2014 @ 7:03 am
There are some things in life that are deserved from birth. He believed this with every ounce of his being, and when this ideology of his clashed with the reality of the world, he invariably aimed to make sure that the world at least came away with a black eye. The ‘things’ which were owed to him were never pinned down, of course; they ranged from materialist guff (drink, women, etc.) to more dangerous things. People. Sounds. Designs. Thoughts.
» Posted By John Doe On 08.10.2014 @ 3:00 pm
The lining of the pillow is soft against my cheek. But the things just a few centimeters away, hidden just inches away behind a wall of flesh, muscle, sinew and bone — the things in there are not soft, oh no. And they do not help me sleep.
» Posted By John Doe On 08.08.2014 @ 3:46 pm
I often find myself spending many hours of my too-short life looking out of the windows of airplanes. One of my principal fantasies is to imagine that there is another plane somewhere, flying at the same elevation, on a parallel line to my own. And that there is a person looking out of their window, who happens to be gazing towards me as I gaze towards them. And I wonder if this people has this same fantasy.
» Posted By John Doe On 08.03.2014 @ 7:47 am
At school all the cool kids had smoked. I promised to myself that when I was older, I would too. And one day I did, but not in the way I wanted. What I remember was a bright burning light coming over the trench, grabbing the arm of the guy next to me, absolute fear in his eyes. Then there was nothing but screaming and the smell of burning. Coils of smoke were rising up off of my charred flesh.
» Posted By John Doe On 07.31.2014 @ 9:26 am
Desolate, that’s a good way to put it. It cuts past the meaningless fluff-words we use to try and hide the fact from ourselves, even though it’s burning bright. We try to isolate ourselves, because we all have an innate fear of each other. The greatest, most innate wish of humanity is to be utterly desolate.
» Posted By John Doe On 04.30.2014 @ 1:43 pm
me women babies tangerine baby shoes love grand mother baby animals food
» Posted By john doe On 04.28.2014 @ 12:19 am
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The infection of lethargy is the most dangerous thing I can think of, as its very nature means that the more serious the problem, the more difficult it is for you to even try and resolve it. And I do not use the word ‘infection’ out of hand; a community built on the rocks of tiredness and procrastination will bring forth nothing but exactly that.
» Posted By John Doe On 04.14.2014 @ 5:33 am