February 1st, 2011 | 1,030 Entries

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1,030 Entries for “darkroom”

  1. 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.

    By Sarah on 02.02.2011

  2. alone in the darkroom…no bed no furniture no anything. no light. nothing is visible. only my thoughts keep me company. those are the only things I find comfort in. the only way i stay sane. nobody here. just me. just my thoughts.

    By ashley URL on 02.02.2011

  3. so there i was, in the room, alone, all but my fears, alone
    who was to save me? the dark creeping up on me?
    this fear
    alone in the dark.
    the room of my enemy.
    the last error, destined for the end.
    that’s me.
    living in my fear
    like a darkroom.

    By Rina on 02.02.2011

  4. So, are we playing a game? I am not alone. Hello there people. I’m it. Let’s see, is there someone there? I hear you moving, but I can’t seem to find you. I sit down in the bed, or what I think is a bed.

    By Cristina URL on 02.02.2011

  5. A darkroom is a place where you develop film and create photos. It’s called a darkroom because it’s dark. Get it? DARK ROOM. It’s a room that’s dark. I always thought that was so cool. If I ever had a dark room I’d tell all of my friends about it.

    By Milton Homestead URL on 02.02.2011

  6. She slowly washed the fluid over my face. I came into focus, little by little, leaning on the banister, gazing into space. I held her hand, watching myself appear. In the dark, time goes slower.

    By Lynx on 02.02.2011

  7. 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 out there, where one’s camera can capture the world and reveal it to unsuspecting eyes, but confined in the darkroom… That is where a photographer’s soul belongs.

    By Alias URL on 02.02.2011

  8. I like the word ‘darkroom.’

    It makes me think of cellar door.

    By lynsey on 02.02.2011

  9. her vision took some getting used to.it was like night vision googles,except for the green light was more like a red light in a darkroom,

    By dann on 02.02.2011

  10. in the darkroom i’m alone with my thoughts and dreams, my muse and my light
    in the darkroom all is quiet and calm and i am at peace

    By rowafe URL on 02.02.2011

  11. Really? Darkroom again? Maybe this is just the first one we get. Maybe it’s like a challenge. The first room is dark. You need to first escape from the dark room. Okay.

    So what’s in here?
    Obviously not a lamp. But maybe a match at least? Some furniture?
    If I flail around while wandering my legs, do I bump into a table? Do I hear breathing?

    By Josef A URL on 02.02.2011

  12. A darkroom had followed me everywhere–immobile though it was. My darkroom wasn’t a room; it was a person. A person who would suck the light out of me and leave me with nothing but an empty feeling inside.

    That person is no longer in my life. For once, the light has come back–I can see again.

    By redottie URL on 02.02.2011

  13. I love to sleep in cold darkroom, I also want to scatter someone’s blood throughout that room, tear their intestines out and allow them to see their own inside. I will be careful in keeping them alive so I can begin to eat their flesh. I will proceed to wash it down with Coca cola.

    By Nathan on 02.02.2011

  14. darkroom–obviously i think photography, and photography means thomas to me, love of my life. sp whereas darkroom could potentially mean, darkness to some people, to me i guess it means light. it means creativity and expression and joy and love. plus, i’ve always wanted a darkroom, always. i love the idea of images and things developing.

    By Allison Arbuthnot URL on 02.02.2011

  15. When I am in a dark room, I find myself nervous. I find that I have no recollection of what has been there before, even if it is a room of my own. Overall, I stumble and search for things I know to be there. I feel as though I would never know the difference between objects unless I was told, no matter how many times I have seen them.

    By Jen URL on 02.02.2011

  16. peace
    utter bliss
    children being born
    smell of chemicals
    time lapse
    surrender to vulnerability

    By Brooklyn Rup on 02.02.2011

  17. it’s dark. it’s a room. photography development used to happen in them, but now it’s probably just sex and drugs. Go figure.

    By jandrew on 02.02.2011

  18. I sat, but I couldn’t think. It was cold and it was dreary, but I knew I had no other choice but to sit and wait in the silence that surrounded me. Here, my fate would be met and here, my life would be lost. Of course, I wouldn’t find that out until much later. But such is the fate of the sisters of the darkroom.

    By Jessica on 02.02.2011

  19. The photograph sat gently below the developing fluid. It had a world of opportunity, but no one had seen it yet. It was beautiful, but its beauty was not evident. Time. Only time.

    By Heather Grace URL on 02.02.2011

  20. it was a darkroom. she felt scared. in the distance she could hear the sound of the soft drizzle of rain and her own thoughts spinning in her head. she didn’t know what to think. she had lost everything.

    By Anna on 02.02.2011

  21. I stand in the amber lit room, alone. It is cold and damp, yet pleasant and calming. I put my headphones on and turn up the rock and roll and fly away into a sea of art and music. It all comes naturally.

    By Whitney Young on 02.02.2011

  22. it’s dark. it’s a room. photographs used to be developed in there, but now it’s probably just sex and drugs. Go figure.

    By Jandrew URL on 02.02.2011

  23. walk in. see none, make all. make a frame of the world that i do not know. takes a while. red. i see red. you see everything. cant mess up. cant look back. go into the darkroom. make me my picture. picture of the world.

    By Mary Jones on 02.02.2011

  24. ahhhhh photos photos photos maybe a place where you yell at your husband so your students wont hear you fight except they heard everything you said…sorry ms.photgraphy teacher..i know..i know

    By Ana S. on 02.02.2011

  25. in lonliness i find no comfort. there is nothing in here but memories of you, of what i remember. but those are worthless next to the beauty of your reality. that soul that lies distant and yet so close.

    By jakeline on 02.02.2011

  26. Film Noir, for certain. Here is to me with a scotch, a top-hat, and a vendetta.

    By Liz on 02.02.2011

  27. Lovely blanket or darkness, warming and calm. I have a job to do. Making a window into the world of which I cannot see. I drop the paper into the cool developing liquid. Wait. Watch. Then you will see, see where I really was last Saturday.

    By Mary Jones on 02.02.2011

  28. it is so dark i cannot even see my hands nor my feet nor my breath nor anything. I’m slipping and stumbling and scared and I can’t find the light switch. I am stuck and alone and this is so creepy I wish it would stop.

    By Amarilla on 02.02.2011

  29. today I entered the dark room and saw the kangaroo sitting there on the red velvet stool. He looked at me in that usual disapproving way, with the gleem in his black eye – red gleem from the low lighting in the room, naturally. He was on the verge of saying something to me when I decided to day I was just going to turn around and walk out – no words of disapproval this time.

    By Alex Rohr URL on 02.02.2011

  30. It was dark and the lights were dimmed red. He was hanging his favorite photographs up with clothes pins. They were faded black and white and smudged.

    By Sam URL on 02.02.2011

  31. He wimpered, and she lifted her head, laughing. He shook his head, adding, “You never fucking change.” She glowered, holding back words that would hurt him even worse than the developing photos. When they did, though, he cried. Dark rooms are suitable, he said, suitable for this occasion.

    By Alayna on 02.02.2011

  32. i like and i don’t like dark rooms. sometimes i like lying on my bed in the dark, trying to work out patterns in the ceiling. and without my glasses, everything is grainy.

    By Eva on 02.02.2011

  33. As I lay there, awake, I remembered, there was a reason why I didn’t want to sleep. If I closed my eyes, I would dream, not just dream, but fall into a nightmare. I was afraid that I’d wake up again with pure terror as my constant companion while my scream echoed throughout the house. Night terrors flood me with fear, anxiety, but they allow me to give an excuse for why I scream my soul out to a God who never answers every night.

    By X URL on 02.02.2011

  34. Sadness lies upon us. Perhaps it is not our fault. Perhaps we were meant to feel this way. They say that happiness is invincible, or at least I thought they did. But what is it that takes away our spirituality and leaves us empty, lying on the floor, mouths wide open and tears streaming down our faces? It’s not my fault, but I cannot stand it.

    By Jaclyn on 02.02.2011

  35. a couple of weeks ago I got to use a darkroom for the first time. Watching film develop is such a magical experience, the room is so calm and the dark is almost comforting. i plan to spend much of my time there from now on.

    By megan on 02.02.2011

  36. i don’t want to write about this any more. you’ve already given me darkroom and it disappoints me that something like this would happen. i already told you i was sad, i don’t want to go through that again. please don’t make me do this. i just want to be happy, and i can be. i will be soon, just give me time. i promise, i can do it.

    By Jaclyn on 02.02.2011

  37. Sometimes people develop their photography inside of darkrooms. They have little to no light, smell strongly of chemicals, and are oddly calming. The way the darkness envelops you is nice.

    By Taylor on 02.02.2011

  38. Again that lonely block of despair and supercilious angst. Again that abyss of self-consciousness and the histrionic, where no one but the depraved and brilliant take refuge and find themselves slammed, slammed up against the mushy-feely rawblack wall of that recurring room.

    By Cyrus Willoughby URL on 02.02.2011

  39. I was sleeping in the darkroom when he entered. I never even knew he was there but soon i could here the soft padding of is his feet, and the tickle of his breath was next to my ear. He lifted the cover and slipped in next to me. we curled around each other. it’s what we had become accustomed to.

    By Vanessa Weygandt on 02.02.2011

  40. ahjcebjfjhehnjj no more!!

    By Jaclyn URL on 02.02.2011