Comments Posted By perfectlydiseased
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She hears a ringing in her ears- it’s all too much. Everything else FADES OUT as the buzzing takes over. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she thinks- I’m at work, I can’t handle this; calm down Laura, calm down. The ringing continues. But then- as she’s about to panic-
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 03.29.2017 @ 11:28 pm
A white cloak is settled over her shoulders as she walks down the street, invisible to all that she sees. The air is thick and the sky is dark, not quite black but a hazy sort of purple. She will prevail, anonymously, to do her duty. She must.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 06.10.2015 @ 8:30 pm
She shakes her head and her bangs shake with it. She’s twitchy, he thinks, body moving every few seconds it seems like, she’s- she’s like a bird actually. Big eyed and scared looking and constantly, constantly moving, looking around and never sitting still, yet never saying a word. Twitchy, he revises. She’s twitchy.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 09.11.2013 @ 12:35 am
His fingers reach out for his hand, the tips just tickling past his flesh, but-
Nothing. He can’t get a grasp on his hand, can’t reach the distance, can’t manage to clasp what he wants- quite literally- in his hand.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 04.28.2013 @ 2:40 am
she felt this way, but didn’t look it. Couldn’t see the lines when she looked in the mirror… But she felt it. Her heart, her chest, her lungs… They all felt withered and old and sad. Like they had lived too long too soon, seen too much in too short of a time frame. Her heart especially, cracked and dry and lonely.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 03.10.2013 @ 7:06 pm
there’s a note on the dresser, but she doesn’t need to read it to know what it says. At least the gist of what it says, anyway. He’s gone. Gone. She’s finally done it, pushed him too far.
“Oh god,” she says aloud, shaking hands reaching for the paper, but really, already knowing that it’s far too late for any sort of message to make a difference.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 10.12.2012 @ 9:23 pm
it’s blue, a dark blue, maybe you’d call it a midnight blue if you were going to get technical. All he really sees though, is that it’s cool. It’s COOL. It looks like it would fit perfectly to his head, would look great with everything that he owns. It looks, it looks- it looks like someone else just picked it up.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 06.03.2012 @ 11:28 pm
Move: left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right. You can do this, you can transform yourself, make everyone take back their opinions of you. You push yourself harder and faster. You can’t run any more, you can’t, but you do. You do it again and again, pushing those memories of the past a little further back every time that you succeed. And you do succeed, you make sure to succeed. You run.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 05.27.2012 @ 11:18 pm
The light burns her eyes as she fumbles into a bush, the torch spinning around and hitting her instead of the ground that’s in front of her. She stills and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a minute and trying to get her bearings. Jesus it’s dark. Jesus it’s late. Jesus she’s cold.
She’s so very, very cold. But that doesn’t matter, because right now she has to find him. She clicks the torch back on.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 03.18.2012 @ 10:48 pm
She thinks about it, she really does. But she doesn’t end up going. “Because that would mean making a decision about something in your goddamn life, wouldn’t it?” her sister mutters with a roll of her eyes.
Maybe, maybe not. She just… She’s scared and this is big, and she’s the opposite. She’s not brave or big or great or strong or any of the necessary things. Any of the things that Sarah is.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 03.14.2012 @ 1:47 am
He can’t help himself. He knows she doesn’t care about this stuff; that she’s grown up forcing herself to not need or want it, telling herself that it’s all stupid and improbable and that it won’t happen for her, but… But he can’t help himself. So he puts down the flowers by the door with his phone number, and waits for her to come home. Because he wants to prove her wrong. For once in his life, he wants to be romantic.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 10.01.2011 @ 3:45 am
Does it matter? Will this actually ever achieve anything for any of them? He hopes so. He sighs and holds his sign a little bit higher, and it feels like the sun burns just that little bit brighter, makes his back feel a little bit warmer. He feels a pleasant tingle go down his spine and he’s smiling before he realizes.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 09.14.2011 @ 4:06 am
He wears a suit, his dark hair clipped short. She eyes him from her spot at the juice bar, wondering if he’d ever look at her. Look at her ratty old jeans and the mascara that’s probably smudged under her eyes if she knows herself well enough. She rests her chin on her palm and sighs.
Because he’s beautiful, and distinguished and- And he turns his head and smiles at her, dark eyes crinkling at the corners.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 09.10.2011 @ 6:50 pm
She sucks up the mess with a calculated ease. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. If only the rest of her life was this straight forward. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and-
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 09.02.2011 @ 12:27 am
Can you move fast enough? Can you take the leap and move yourself? Can you do it? Can you move fast enough and get there on time? Can you? Can you?
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 08.20.2011 @ 10:50 pm
Can you do it? That little voice asks in her head. Do you really think you can do this? Do you really think you’re good enough-
She tries to shut her brain off; that inner monologue for just a minute. Just a minute. Just. A. Minute.
“You can do it.” She whispers to herself before closing her eyes and jumping.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 08.18.2011 @ 2:13 am
The light flickers on and off and she wonders if she really has to get up and change the bulb.
…Does she have to? Will it really make all that much difference? Won’t the light just flicker on in-
The room shutters into darkness.
He sighs as he wonders in from the kitchen, smiling bemusedly at her glare that’s directed towards the ceiling.
“You want me to change the light?”
She just smiles impishly in return.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 08.06.2011 @ 5:32 pm
He used to be in a band, she remembers suddenly. It’s late at night, and she’s torturing herself by looking through her yearbook. God. It was hell, wasn’t it? She notes bemusedly, in the way that you only can when it’s all over and done with. But then she sees his slim face again. Dark eyes, and dark hair and just-
She misses him. And not in a ‘oh-I-miss-my-youth-sometimes’ kind of way, but in a honest to God, ‘I-miss-him’ kind of way.
…She still loves him, she notes, flipping past his page. She still loves him.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 07.27.2011 @ 11:16 pm
It lies there, waiting, forever waiting. For what, no one knows. From what, everyone does.
Well, she does. It’s what she does. Inspecting bones; skeletons. Dissecting someone’s life in- in-
They live, they die and then she finds out why.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 07.24.2011 @ 2:05 am
It sits in her lips, the smoke protruding all around her in lazy circles, floating, and floating, and floating away.
She told him that she’d quit. And, you know, she really did mean it at the time. But she just… She needed it. That one fucking thing in her life that when everything went wrong? Would still be there, craving her attention. Would still be the same, amongst all of the changes.
She opens up the packet, fumbling for another one.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 07.16.2011 @ 4:27 pm
She shouldn’t still be doing this, expecting things from him. Yes, he was her father. But first and foremost, he was unreliable. Out for himself. Alone in the world. She shouldn’t be expecting a present, or his presence… She just…
It was nice to hope. It was nice that she could expect, at the very least.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 07.09.2011 @ 7:55 pm
The cast is good, he begrudgingly admits. He doesn’t want to, because, well, he doesn’t want them to be good. He wants it to be a mess; a beautiful crashing disaster that fucks up all over the place, spilling blood, and dirt and tears over the white hall with their disasters, and awfulness, and just-
But they’re not. They’re good.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 07.07.2011 @ 12:21 am
Stem. The ways things grow. The way that they progress, and start from something else. The way that his relationship stemmed out of his parents divorce; out of their mutual hatred for the couple getting married that sunny afternoon late in May.
The way his love for her stemmed. Grew, and grew, and grew.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 07.05.2011 @ 9:10 pm
Her hair lies down her back in a thick, blonde braid. He can’t help but stare. It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful.
He walks away, not noticing her turning around to gaze longingly at him, her braid swaying to the side as she does so.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 07.02.2011 @ 1:10 am
Honestly seems to be a hard concept for some- for her.
Lying comes naturally. The words slip in and out of her mouth like thoughts.They fall into everyday conversation with her, and no one realizes that the things she’s saying? They’re not at all true.
That’s because she’s good. She’s good at lying; at being a fraud.
What she’s not so good at, is being honest.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 06.30.2011 @ 10:43 pm
“If they were easy, they’d call them something else.” Her father tells her.
She’s fairly sure he’s stolen it off of some movie, and she’ll investigate later, because there’s no way that her dad can be that eloquent; that straight to the point and wise, but…
But for once, she’s willing to admit defeat to him. Because he… Well, he’s making a lot of sense about what they’re talking about.
About her crush.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 06.28.2011 @ 11:04 pm
They’re an interesting topic, morals. So different for different people. So…
It makes her head hurt thinking about it. Thinking about that night. What she did; what she didn’t do; what she wish she could take back.
Nothing good came of that, she can be sure. Morals be dammed, she fucked up.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 06.26.2011 @ 11:16 pm
Body parts ache, she feels it right down to her bones- even her cells resist. She’s just… She can’t go on. She’s exhausted. It’s all just too much, and too soon, and too…
It’s too hard. She’s too tired, and it’s just. Too. Hard.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 06.22.2011 @ 12:11 am
To hold something, something as precious as this in the palm of his hand… It was magical. He couldn’t… He couldn’t…
It was Surreal. There was nothing more amazing than the birth of life; than seeing your child come to life.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 06.19.2011 @ 11:31 pm
Back To Stats Page
Smiles are hard to come by, and rare, and beautiful, and-
And she’s repeating herself. But she doesn’t have that. A smile, that is. Not anymore. Not for a while now, and it makes her sad, and it makes her mad, and apparently, it makes her rhyme.
But she wishes, she wishes more than anything in the world, that she could- just for one. Second. More.
» Posted By perfectlydiseased On 06.17.2011 @ 4:09 am