I sit in a dark room. There are no lights. The walls are bare. I sit solemnly, alone. No friends, No music. No company, except for the voices inside my head. They cry insanity, but I cry for company. My fate is sealed. Why am I stuck here? Help me out. Please.
There isn’t much to a dark room when you first think about it. But dark rooms are places for thought and for the best thinkers ideas. Dark rooms are the best for sleeping, a favorite hobby of mine. Dark rooms were made for romance with the assistance of candles. And dark rooms are the abode for creatures of the night.
In the darkroom it seems as though as my problems leave once I go into the revolving door. It’s just me, & my photographs. My words spoken through a photo, just like a millions time before like others have done. My messages clear & unclear & each have a story of their own to share with those who view them. The darkroom is my place of sanity, where my mind can release it’s up most secrets & emotions left hidden by my loved ones. In that room, I feel a bit calmer, this is what I’m going to be doing, I’m going to be making art, so I have to make sure it’s my best work yet; for myself, not for anyone else.
dark rooms scare me, i’ve always been afraid of the dark. whenever i’m in a dark room i imagine scary ghosts, images, and things just coming at me and scaring me. the dark is my worst enemy and to be surrounded by it makes me feel like i’m going insane. i hate dark ness. dark rooms always mean something bad, and i hate the feeling of not seeing clearly and not knowing what’s surrouding me. the darkness is my worst enemy. it consumes me and i get lost in it. i hate darkness, i always pray for light in the dark room.
i pray for the light to come and save me from the darkness surrounding me, from the darkness consuming my every thought. i always fear things most when it’s dark, i never feel like anything is the way it should be in the dark. i hate darkness. i crave light. i want light. i need the light to make me okay.
sitting in a dark room with memories in my hand.
lights show the images slowly in the water and I smile.
Next image appears and I cringe.
Here in this dark room no one can see what you do to me.
No one can tell how I feel.
No one.
a dark room sat hidden at the end of the hall by a nearly closed door. it loomed secretly less than 30 feet away but that 30 feet seemed an impossibly long gap to reach without being attacked. shockingly cold spears of panic took my breath away and my ability to blink was hindered by my slightly bulging eyes.
in a dark room there is a man. a man who likes to sit and think and hats follow him. they follow him all over the place and one of these days he’ll turn on that light. that light is the truth. there are no hats. they are in his mind. his dark cold mind where he’s plagued by the hat his dad gave him before he died. he died so long ago. It hurt so much.
Peaceful, in the red haze and pools of chemicals. An accidental ray of light could massacre potential masterpieces, but the diligent photographer would never let that happen. Couldn’t let that happen. It’s bright and alive in the world, where one’s camera can capture it and reveal it to unsuspecting eyes, but alone in the darkroom… That is where a photographer’s soul belongs.
I think the darkroom it the room in which photographs are processed. Isn’t it the place where the only light that’s permitted is the red light that doesn’t harm the photographs? I do believe that there was one in the science laboratory, several years ago, but I can’t really remember that anymore. Maybe someone with more photographic experience could write more.
It was bad enough that I had work to do.
It was even worse that the last light bulb went out – and damn, my room was very dark when it had no light.
That’s almost redundant.
I had to light a candle just to be sure that I could get everything done that I had to get done. The two mirrors in my room added that extra touch of creepy. My doll’s eyes looked soulless all of a sudden.
I need to redecorate in here. This place is intimidating when there’s no light to speak of. Maybe add some hearts. Or pink vases. Or bunnies. Anything will do, really.
The darkroom of my mind is always filled. I can’t seem to brighten it up. I need to get some artificial lighting to appease the darkness. Artificial is bad though, need to get some real light. Starlight, sunlight, whatever it takes to end the darkness
i sit in a darkroom and wonder why i am here. i just woke up and i am lost; lost to the world. will people even realize that i am gone? it looks like my photos have finished developing….
It was a really dark room – I mean, sure, the light bulb had to go out and all, which was a real pain in the ass when you were trying to work.
What was even worse was the fact that I ran out of friggin’ light bulbs. So I had to light a damned candle just so I could get everything that I could get done, done.
Not to mention i have two mirrors in my room.
Added creepiness. And that doll.
I really need to redo this place. Maybe add some hearts or something.
dark blue dark blue, have you ever been alone in a crowded roooom. darkrooms remind me of pictures and red lights and seeeehhhh heeeeex! you know that’s what you think too. darkrooms are for exposing your film and your hot body against someone else’s. haha. wow i am perverted. it’s dark in here. i’m scared of the dark…
a place where images come to light. it’s a place where a man and a machine create something that has the potential to change people’s emotion and thoughts. it’s a darkroom that becomes enlightened.
this reminds me of photography. its the concept of a darkroom that allows you to create and print your images on paper as a result of your hard work. the darkroom is relaxing, with music always playing
Lonely, a place to think. It’s where I am right now, but it’s where I want to be away from. Maybe a lighted room would help me escape my thoughts. I don’t know what else to do but sit in this dark room and drown in my thoughts. I’m scared but I can’t get out of this dark room. I can’t.
i dont’ like dark rooms. they are scary. they’re also dark. monsters live in darkrooms, but photographs also come from dark rooms. are they really bad? we’ll never know. becasue the rooms are dark. lol. i don’t know what else i can say about dark rooms.
there was a darkroom no light just me and you.
Are you afraid? He asked.
No I said.
I wasn’t afraid. Dark doesn’t scare me at all. It comforts me actually.
I fall in love in the darkroom. Everytime, because He’s with me.
I am in love right now.
Just me, Him and the darkroom.
Love.
im always in the dark room, its always a fucking dark room. i love those things. so suggestive. so enticing. gorgeous, as though in the absence of light ive realized, ‘who the fuck needs light anyway? fuck light.’ maybe its just today but…i dont want the light. i know its there. i know ive claimed it. but i dont fucking want it. IM ANGRY. IM FUCKING PISSED. i just feel as though everything has suddenly decided that, against my own will, it wants to turn to shit.
Alone, Alone, Alone, once again. I am miserable. I am cold. I can not see. I am miserable. Why am I here. Why must I be alone. I am miserable. I, I, I. Maybe that is why? All I care for is I.
Photographs. High school class. Megan Mitchell. Friends show back up in your life for a reason. 3,000 miles away from where you both started. And you haven’t even reached out to meet up. Sad times. Get out there. Reach. Enjoy old friends in new places!
sitting alone in a darkroom
is much different from sitting alone in a dark room.
darkrooms aren’t that dark;
they’re very red
very sensual
i would touch myself in a darkroom,
but not a dark room.
i would eat a crimson apple in a darkroom and feel evil,
but in a dark room i would only feel
alone.
Childrens Screams. My screams. Voices. A child being born. Screams. I need help. Everyone needs help. I’m scared. Kids are scared. Bad Memories. Killings. Blood. Terrified screams, and yells. Rapes. Kids being killed. Bad things.
I was alone. All I could hear was my own breath, my own heartbeat. What I wouldn’t give to no longer be alone in this dark room. Another breath, another heartbeat.
There are many dark rooms in every house. The house doesn’t always have to be a literal house. Every one has a house inside of them. That feeling of not knowing if there are stairs or not, the dark walls fluttering your eyes, and the weightlessness and despair. Feeling for hope, finding none with your fingers.
darkroom is usually associated with photography. developing it of course. however it could also be where fears are instilled. a dark room can be the mind lalalala i dont know what else to say about this. All i can think of right now is photography and that seems to be a good way. you mix chemicals in it and shit and then you develop your pics. funny though cause the rooms not actually dark it glows red. weird.
Photographs. Smelly chemicals. The old white-haired figure who turns and pushes up his large glasses underneath voluminous eyebrows. He has been doing this for years. His hands are accustomed to the chemical bath. Moving automatically, he doesn’t even have to think. He just does. Creates. Freezing memories. Images for years. I want to be him.
there are no lights, its cold and lonely in the darkroom.. its a two part word, there’s a funny name for that but i can’t remember it. like watermelon and baseball. hyphenated word? conjunctions? it sounds scary, i wouldn’t like to be in a darkroom because bad things happen in the dark, photography happens in rooms like this.
goodnight moon, good night you. never too young to fall in love. a boy with a big brain but an even smaller heart. sweating in the summer. carson delarue. silohouette.
A room is dark. I can’t see a thing. There could be someone here with me, but I wouldn’t know the difference. This is where I think. I am completely alone here, even if I’m truly not. There are no distractions.
darkroom. processing, capturing, creating. In the darkroom, we expose ourselves in the chemicals of our film. Vats of expression lie untold. Then, development, our creatures fly free!
i was by myself. all alone. all i could do was hold my arms. it was a terrible evening and i wished i had never agreed to do anything of the sort. but now there was no going back. he was now gone, and i was stuck in this dark room.
and in the dark room there was a monster and all she wanted was you to be there and protect her, maybe she would have been safe. She wouldnt have felt alone and scared, it would have made the situation more pleasant although still terrifying. Maybe there would have been no monster after all in that dark room, just you, her, and some time together, she actually would have liked that. So many things could have happened in that dark room.
I sit in a dark room. There are no lights. The walls are bare. I sit solemnly, alone. No friends, No music. No company, except for the voices inside my head. They cry insanity, but I cry for company. My fate is sealed. Why am I stuck here? Help me out. Please.
There isn’t much to a dark room when you first think about it. But dark rooms are places for thought and for the best thinkers ideas. Dark rooms are the best for sleeping, a favorite hobby of mine. Dark rooms were made for romance with the assistance of candles. And dark rooms are the abode for creatures of the night.
In the darkroom it seems as though as my problems leave once I go into the revolving door. It’s just me, & my photographs. My words spoken through a photo, just like a millions time before like others have done. My messages clear & unclear & each have a story of their own to share with those who view them. The darkroom is my place of sanity, where my mind can release it’s up most secrets & emotions left hidden by my loved ones. In that room, I feel a bit calmer, this is what I’m going to be doing, I’m going to be making art, so I have to make sure it’s my best work yet; for myself, not for anyone else.
dark rooms scare me, i’ve always been afraid of the dark. whenever i’m in a dark room i imagine scary ghosts, images, and things just coming at me and scaring me. the dark is my worst enemy and to be surrounded by it makes me feel like i’m going insane. i hate dark ness. dark rooms always mean something bad, and i hate the feeling of not seeing clearly and not knowing what’s surrouding me. the darkness is my worst enemy. it consumes me and i get lost in it. i hate darkness, i always pray for light in the dark room.
i pray for the light to come and save me from the darkness surrounding me, from the darkness consuming my every thought. i always fear things most when it’s dark, i never feel like anything is the way it should be in the dark. i hate darkness. i crave light. i want light. i need the light to make me okay.
sitting in a dark room with memories in my hand.
lights show the images slowly in the water and I smile.
Next image appears and I cringe.
Here in this dark room no one can see what you do to me.
No one can tell how I feel.
No one.
a dark room sat hidden at the end of the hall by a nearly closed door. it loomed secretly less than 30 feet away but that 30 feet seemed an impossibly long gap to reach without being attacked. shockingly cold spears of panic took my breath away and my ability to blink was hindered by my slightly bulging eyes.
in a dark room there is a man. a man who likes to sit and think and hats follow him. they follow him all over the place and one of these days he’ll turn on that light. that light is the truth. there are no hats. they are in his mind. his dark cold mind where he’s plagued by the hat his dad gave him before he died. he died so long ago. It hurt so much.
Peaceful, in the red haze and pools of chemicals. An accidental ray of light could massacre potential masterpieces, but the diligent photographer would never let that happen. Couldn’t let that happen. It’s bright and alive in the world, where one’s camera can capture it and reveal it to unsuspecting eyes, but alone in the darkroom… That is where a photographer’s soul belongs.
I think the darkroom it the room in which photographs are processed. Isn’t it the place where the only light that’s permitted is the red light that doesn’t harm the photographs? I do believe that there was one in the science laboratory, several years ago, but I can’t really remember that anymore. Maybe someone with more photographic experience could write more.
It was bad enough that I had work to do.
It was even worse that the last light bulb went out – and damn, my room was very dark when it had no light.
That’s almost redundant.
I had to light a candle just to be sure that I could get everything done that I had to get done. The two mirrors in my room added that extra touch of creepy. My doll’s eyes looked soulless all of a sudden.
I need to redecorate in here. This place is intimidating when there’s no light to speak of. Maybe add some hearts. Or pink vases. Or bunnies. Anything will do, really.
The darkroom of my mind is always filled. I can’t seem to brighten it up. I need to get some artificial lighting to appease the darkness. Artificial is bad though, need to get some real light. Starlight, sunlight, whatever it takes to end the darkness
i sit in a darkroom and wonder why i am here. i just woke up and i am lost; lost to the world. will people even realize that i am gone? it looks like my photos have finished developing….
dark room is in your mind. it is dark just because of the absence of light.it is not dark at all!
It was a really dark room – I mean, sure, the light bulb had to go out and all, which was a real pain in the ass when you were trying to work.
What was even worse was the fact that I ran out of friggin’ light bulbs. So I had to light a damned candle just so I could get everything that I could get done, done.
Not to mention i have two mirrors in my room.
Added creepiness. And that doll.
I really need to redo this place. Maybe add some hearts or something.
dark blue dark blue, have you ever been alone in a crowded roooom. darkrooms remind me of pictures and red lights and seeeehhhh heeeeex! you know that’s what you think too. darkrooms are for exposing your film and your hot body against someone else’s. haha. wow i am perverted. it’s dark in here. i’m scared of the dark…
a place where images come to light. it’s a place where a man and a machine create something that has the potential to change people’s emotion and thoughts. it’s a darkroom that becomes enlightened.
this reminds me of photography. its the concept of a darkroom that allows you to create and print your images on paper as a result of your hard work. the darkroom is relaxing, with music always playing
Lonely, a place to think. It’s where I am right now, but it’s where I want to be away from. Maybe a lighted room would help me escape my thoughts. I don’t know what else to do but sit in this dark room and drown in my thoughts. I’m scared but I can’t get out of this dark room. I can’t.
i dont’ like dark rooms. they are scary. they’re also dark. monsters live in darkrooms, but photographs also come from dark rooms. are they really bad? we’ll never know. becasue the rooms are dark. lol. i don’t know what else i can say about dark rooms.
that darkroom haunted me as i felt that it was a similar room where i was kept a prisoner.
there’s no light. Photographs, sex, the things we do. Eyes closed. Love. Neon. Cozy. Light out. No power.
there was a darkroom no light just me and you.
Are you afraid? He asked.
No I said.
I wasn’t afraid. Dark doesn’t scare me at all. It comforts me actually.
I fall in love in the darkroom. Everytime, because He’s with me.
I am in love right now.
Just me, Him and the darkroom.
Love.
im always in the dark room, its always a fucking dark room. i love those things. so suggestive. so enticing. gorgeous, as though in the absence of light ive realized, ‘who the fuck needs light anyway? fuck light.’ maybe its just today but…i dont want the light. i know its there. i know ive claimed it. but i dont fucking want it. IM ANGRY. IM FUCKING PISSED. i just feel as though everything has suddenly decided that, against my own will, it wants to turn to shit.
Alone, Alone, Alone, once again. I am miserable. I am cold. I can not see. I am miserable. Why am I here. Why must I be alone. I am miserable. I, I, I. Maybe that is why? All I care for is I.
Photographs. High school class. Megan Mitchell. Friends show back up in your life for a reason. 3,000 miles away from where you both started. And you haven’t even reached out to meet up. Sad times. Get out there. Reach. Enjoy old friends in new places!
I’m into the game. I think I’ll do it daily.
sitting alone in a darkroom
is much different from sitting alone in a dark room.
darkrooms aren’t that dark;
they’re very red
very sensual
i would touch myself in a darkroom,
but not a dark room.
i would eat a crimson apple in a darkroom and feel evil,
but in a dark room i would only feel
alone.
Childrens Screams. My screams. Voices. A child being born. Screams. I need help. Everyone needs help. I’m scared. Kids are scared. Bad Memories. Killings. Blood. Terrified screams, and yells. Rapes. Kids being killed. Bad things.
scary, fearful. mysterious. sleep. dream. nightmares. creepy. awful. horrendous. stomache-turning, gut wrenching. lonely. heartache. dark.
I was alone. All I could hear was my own breath, my own heartbeat. What I wouldn’t give to no longer be alone in this dark room. Another breath, another heartbeat.
There are many dark rooms in every house. The house doesn’t always have to be a literal house. Every one has a house inside of them. That feeling of not knowing if there are stairs or not, the dark walls fluttering your eyes, and the weightlessness and despair. Feeling for hope, finding none with your fingers.
photography pictures that tell stories and show amazing insight.
darkroom is usually associated with photography. developing it of course. however it could also be where fears are instilled. a dark room can be the mind lalalala i dont know what else to say about this. All i can think of right now is photography and that seems to be a good way. you mix chemicals in it and shit and then you develop your pics. funny though cause the rooms not actually dark it glows red. weird.
Photographs. Smelly chemicals. The old white-haired figure who turns and pushes up his large glasses underneath voluminous eyebrows. He has been doing this for years. His hands are accustomed to the chemical bath. Moving automatically, he doesn’t even have to think. He just does. Creates. Freezing memories. Images for years. I want to be him.
there are no lights, its cold and lonely in the darkroom.. its a two part word, there’s a funny name for that but i can’t remember it. like watermelon and baseball. hyphenated word? conjunctions? it sounds scary, i wouldn’t like to be in a darkroom because bad things happen in the dark, photography happens in rooms like this.
Darkroom. I see a black square room with no windows, or if there are, they have heavey curtains. Possible padding. Relaxing. Stressful? Red. People.
goodnight moon, good night you. never too young to fall in love. a boy with a big brain but an even smaller heart. sweating in the summer. carson delarue. silohouette.
A room is dark. I can’t see a thing. There could be someone here with me, but I wouldn’t know the difference. This is where I think. I am completely alone here, even if I’m truly not. There are no distractions.
darkroom. processing, capturing, creating. In the darkroom, we expose ourselves in the chemicals of our film. Vats of expression lie untold. Then, development, our creatures fly free!
i was by myself. all alone. all i could do was hold my arms. it was a terrible evening and i wished i had never agreed to do anything of the sort. but now there was no going back. he was now gone, and i was stuck in this dark room.
and in the dark room there was a monster and all she wanted was you to be there and protect her, maybe she would have been safe. She wouldnt have felt alone and scared, it would have made the situation more pleasant although still terrifying. Maybe there would have been no monster after all in that dark room, just you, her, and some time together, she actually would have liked that. So many things could have happened in that dark room.