Comments Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS

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It’s often said that fake bait works better than the real deal. Flashier. Like porn. Like supermodels. Like the loud best friend of that one girl who doesn’t quite get when they talk about how, no, you cannot hug an entire town together with its streets and buildings.

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 07.22.2015 @ 3:01 am


Never I have ever changed my mind about a thing so much that it doesn’t even matter anymore.

*everyone drinks*

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 09.30.2014 @ 10:50 am


In the end, it turned out that your lofty ideals were not so lofty after all – were even logical, practical, _attainable_ – it was too unfortunate that you realized this little fact in the exact moment that you let go of them, and it was, simply, too late.

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 08.01.2014 @ 11:25 am


A girl is sitting on a swing, swinging. She is little, and she’s there to swing. What other reason to be there, if not to do that? The canopy of the trees above provides shade, while the rotation of the earth provides wind, though she does not know that. There is a cat a few meters to her left, watching her, has been watching her since she got there, though she does not know that. If she had known, first thing she would think would be “animagus!” but, then again, magic is not real – though she does not know that.

Actually, you don’t know that it isn’t, either.

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 11.12.2013 @ 5:26 pm


Your head does not scale up to your body (or vice-versa), and you die.
Your heart does not scale up to your head (or vice-versa), and you die.
Your life does not scale up to your dreams (or vice-versa), and you die.
You yourself do not scale up to expectations (or vice-versa), and.. yes, you die.

These events are not correlated. Everyone dies.

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 10.12.2013 @ 6:38 am


The ice-cream cone was the bane of the snowman. It scooped up his children, it made them look good – fabulous – but for what price? They were made weak, they were _changed_, according to the tastes of the masses – the fake beauty, all the sauces, the sprinkles, the superficial shine that would last for only a couple minutes – tops – before they would be consumed, relentlessly, and be lost to the world. And yet, many of his children seeked that fate, wanted the glory of being desired, even for a second – the snowman could not reason with them, could not save them, and he cried, and cried, and cried.

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 08.31.2013 @ 4:52 am


A hand clamps down on your mouth, and you wake up. You cannot move, you could not have screamed even if there was no hand. The hand is cold, ice cold, and the speed of your heartbeat escalates. There is nothing you can do. You wish you could just go back to sleep and wake to a normal day, and remember this night as a really vivid nightmare – or better yet, not remember it at all.

You wake up in the morning, suffering from a mild case of dry mouth, and when you lick your lips, you find them cold, ice cold.

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 08.04.2013 @ 1:54 pm


She was bi-polar and he was a polar bear. No one would have expected it, but they made it work, just so.

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 07.28.2013 @ 9:45 am


My life is a collage of friends. None everlasting, no happily ever after, only different groups at different times, different loves, different sorrows, alway changing, always replacing, never anyone to swore by. A collage might sound vibrant, energetic, colourful, but a collage is sometimes lonely and a bit hollow.

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 06.06.2013 @ 10:18 am


Neon lights remind you of nightclubs.

The kind where nice ladies dance. But of course, you have never been in one of them.

The nice ladies remind you of selling favors. But of course, no one ever asked you for one.

Favors remind you of friends, but of course, you have never made one.

Making reminds you of – what was this about? Yes, neon lights.

Neon lights remind you of having so much to drink, they create light-designs when you look about around them too fast. They remind you of that last shitty cocktail before you moved on to the heavier stuff. They remind you of that pretty girl sitting two stools away, looking lonely – looking lonely at you, and they remind you of being too paralyzed to make a move.

But most of all, they remind you of flamingos.

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 05.29.2013 @ 2:34 pm



Delve into your imagination, and you’ll find your dreams. (Eventually)

Delve into your dreams, and you’ll find your subconscious. (Or nightmares)

Delve into your nightmares, and you’ll find your subconscious for sure, this time. (Iteration #3)

Delve into your subconscious, and you’ll find despair. (If it’s not what you’ve been expecting)

Delve into your despair, now. Why despair? You just found a new character sheet to play on. A new person to be. To learn to be. To, maybe this time, love to be. (In case of failure, loop to the beginning)


» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 05.27.2013 @ 2:35 pm


Girls who like fire seem attractive to a group of people. Boys who like fire also seem attractive to some people. I am not sure if they appeal to eachother, too – would not they seem “normal” to eachother, and not “dangerous” or “edgy”?

Or maybe they would just feel at home with another who likes to see the world burn as much as they do.

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 05.05.2013 @ 3:34 pm


They started by electrocuting flowers. When the poor flowers didn’t scream, they went on to trees, to worms, to butterflies, to little sea turtles, to mice, to.. No, they weren’t monsters. They were scientists.

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 04.27.2013 @ 8:56 am


Her teacher was highly disturbed.

She was colour-blind. The teachers didn’t know that, yet – her family, who wasn’t around much, wasn’t aware either. The teacher lady had asked the children to draw about what they wanted to be when they grew up – and she wanted to be just like the gardener, Mr. Bobby, because he got to play with pretty flowers all day and was always smiling and was the happiest person she knew. So she drew him, with his giant scissors, all green because of the plants he cut, as were his overalls and hands and smiled when she thought of how Mr. Bobby smelled like cut grass all the time. She didn’t know that she had picked the crayon named “magenta” instead of the crayon “light green”, and on her paper the teacher saw a bearded man, smiling a wide smile, with giant scissors dripping with pink-red blood, with blood on his knuckles and clothes and all over the floor – and the teacher forced a strained smile and made a mental note to have a talk with her parents.

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 04.21.2013 @ 12:53 pm


Most monsters have teeth. Or arms. And eyes. multiple, scary, dark. But see,sir – mumbling monsters have lips. While your ordinary monsters are scary, mumbling monsters are.. creepy, disturbing. Not rape-y like the tentacle monsters, but molest-y, like they’re going to slowly caress your cheek while you sleep.

So, sir, I was serious when I said I didn’t care about the ordinary monsters – deliver me, deliver me from the mumbling ones.

» Posted By THEY_HAVE_EELS On 04.16.2013 @ 12:05 pm

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