darkrooms usually refer to traditional photography. but to me a darkroom, is a dark room. as in, the lights are off. i feel like there is so much to discover in the dark. for example, i’ve walked through my room countless times and i know it like the back of my hand. but when i walk through it in the dark its a completely different experience! also, the dark is a blank slate for imagination. there could be monsters in your closet, lava on your floor, or even pirates fighting outside your window. as a little kid the dark was one of the things that baffled me, i couldn’t grasp the idea that the dark didn’t mean the most average things turned into man-eating nightmares. i used to imagine my floor was a raging open ocean with sharks swimming in it, and refuse to get off my bed until the lights were on. i guess that’s just part of the mystery of growing up.
I was in a darkroom once watching a friend develop nude pictures he had taken of me. I sort of hoped, just the tiniest bit, that he would decide he liked me more than his current girlfriend and leave her to be with me. Didn’t happen. I was, in fact, maid of honor at their wedding.
The chemicals filled his nostrils, and he breathed them deeply. His wife hated it when he locked himself up like this developing photos of their children, but he found it was the only way to calm himself after the stress of such long days. He never let her know how afraid he was, or how much he hated his life, or that he wanted to die. She could never guess. He wouldn’t let her.
There is a little girl in the corner of the darkroom, dead. Who is this little girl? No other than my sister. She lingers here, waiting to have revenge on the man who did this. Our father.
I always preferred a dark room with a single lamp pointed to the far corner of the room. In the summer with the window open at night, darkness, but one light. Peace…
its dark its spooky its cray i am scared oooooo says someone in the distance and i say who is there no one anwers someone jumps out at me and says need a night light and then disappeares it was scary said reagan ooooo says soething oh no its happening again
okay darkroom who am I really writing for, who is watching me is it you? I have a problem writing something for someone if I can’t see or understand who that person is, but maybe I am not supposed to maybe I am just supposed to just write maybe I am supposed to just sit here and write to myself about something that isn’t even about a darkroom anymore.
Scary
I hate it
I need someone to hold my hand. WHere’s my blanket? I’m cold. My feet are freezing. I thought I just heard something over there in the corner. Is that even the corner? I don’t think so. Geez this is creepy. I hate the dark Get me out of here, please! Oh, it’s calming. Not that bad, actually! I like it in here, I suppose.
Anything can happen here. It depends who you’re with. Why you’re there. If you’re even there at all. If you even know this place exists. If there is a way to make it light. If you’re stuck in this darkness.
Dark room, like editing film. I did that in DMS 101. Back at UB… I should’ve just gone to Buff State right out of HS, but I was lazy. Too lazy to look for the right program for me…. Damn, that’s a regret. oh well….
This reminds me of the play “How I Learned to Drive”. The uncle takes pictures of his niece in his darkroom of the basement. It disturbed me but was an amazing play. I want a darkroom, to fix my pictures of odd things like tree faces and beautiful soup stains.
it is the one place i can feel at home, lost within the the pulsating darkness around me. i feel as if i’m on the edge, dancing on the tightrope between reality and imagination. anything can be done here, and i can be anyone.
i see in the darkroom where no one else can
I see in the darkroom when I can’t find my own hand
I see what I am and who I’m meant to be
I see in the darkroom that I can’t hide from me
in a dark room all alone she sits and writes beautiful poetry. she waits for her true love to find her and save her from her shallow and pathetic life. with a razor at hand she doodles on her skin. thinking that it makes her beautiful. she never understands how beautiful she already is no matter how many people tell her this. her life is a dark room.
There are dark rooms all over the world. These dark rooms are everywhere. Some are filled and some are empty, dark and desserted. We may go are whole lives and not come to relize people are suffering in these dark rooms. We may choice to ignore this and move on with our own lives. Its just too difficult we think to stop and help. I believe a smile can save a life.
I quivered in the dark room. My eyes were tight. My fingers numbed at the sense of crimson blindness. It was cold. Frozen eyes were vacant in my face and I screamed. Screamed for knowledge. Screamed for comprehension.
I sit in the darkroom where my photos develop. All is quiet and I am alone. Solitude is beautiful though.. I breathe it in, I feel it. I feel at peace. At peace with my photos. At peace with myself.
The man entered the dark room with a sense of fear. He knew that he only had thirty seconds. Now 29.
28.
He grasped his fear.
27.
He held onto his wife’s hands.
25.
Well, the ghost of them.
I carry the candle, and trip over my stairwell, where it drips from the liquid firey red wax, to the bright white carpet where only invisible stains sit, all but one filled with hurt.
The people gathered in the darkroom were in great peril. No matter what any one tried there was no way to get out. The air was slowly getting harder to breath down into their lungs. Farther and farther they fell in to dispair. One by one they sunk down to the floor and slouched over. It was so dark that they could not see one another but they all new each others eyes were slowly closing. One by one they fell into a deep sleep. One by one they sunk into an oblivion which none would return from.
it was a dark room, one single window near the far corner but all light was blocked by the large fur tree outside. The old man just sat in his chair not caring about the lack of light. He just stared at the fire and continued to think.
i dont know what a darkroom was, my dad is talking so much, i think a dark room is where they do photography. duh. that is what it is. im silly. its dark in my house. there’s a blizzard outside. this is fun. dark rooms are dark! you cant let light in them. this page reloaded on accident. i feel like thats cheating. i wish i knew what a darkroom looked like. ive always wanted to go in one. i think my old high school had one. im pretty sure they did. they had to have, they had a photography class
I see a darkness in the room and im afrad. araid of where my mind will take me, back into where i dont want it. back where im always afraid. always shivering. always cold and filled with metal bones. i need help. the only colors i see here are like ad weather.
One of my biggest fears are dark rooms. There is something about completely losing or weakening one of the senses that really scares me. You never really know what is beyond your fingertips and every time I am in a dark room I think about how reliant I am on my sense of sight and how drastic my life would change without it. Please dark rooms stay light.
im in a dark room and this dark room is very scary there are alot of people in here and i cant see them but i can feel them. i can hear them and they are yelling. i also smell them. i want to move but i cant cause im scared ill fall. i cant see anything at all. i can hardly breathe in this dark room. i want to its very hard.
Anything can happen in here. Anything can end up not happening. Depends on who you’re with. If you’re alone. If you’re even there. If anyone is there. If you even know this room exists. If its always dark.
oh typical in black
how dark can you get without fading
to nothing
oh typical in language
how far can you run in the dark?
read a simple phrase
too harsh for simplicity
too cold for real
they entered the darkroom. there were supposedly ghosts in this room, but these ghosts obviously did not wish to be exterminated, because they had recently seen the movie “ghostbusters,” and they thought, hey. that’s not a nice way to treat ghosts.
sex in high school not me though unfortuntley? that’s a hard word to spell. where exactly does the ‘e’ go? does it matter? if you can understand what i’m trying to say regarldess or where every single letter is then why does spell, or mispronunciatoin for that matter, matter?
A symbolic place where people go to hide from their troubles or go to be depressed on their own. It doesnt have to be a room- it could just be a place to be alone and think about ones troubles. In a non symbolic sense, it is a place where hipsters go to get their film developed. Fake hipsters give their film to people at cvs. True hipsters have their own darkrooms. Or it could just be a room with no lights. Who knows.
pictures. developing them. with the red light as it sinks into your skin, forever being red. surrounded by it completely. is there no other color that exists? will these photos forever remain touched by this gleam?
darkrooms usually refer to traditional photography. but to me a darkroom, is a dark room. as in, the lights are off. i feel like there is so much to discover in the dark. for example, i’ve walked through my room countless times and i know it like the back of my hand. but when i walk through it in the dark its a completely different experience! also, the dark is a blank slate for imagination. there could be monsters in your closet, lava on your floor, or even pirates fighting outside your window. as a little kid the dark was one of the things that baffled me, i couldn’t grasp the idea that the dark didn’t mean the most average things turned into man-eating nightmares. i used to imagine my floor was a raging open ocean with sharks swimming in it, and refuse to get off my bed until the lights were on. i guess that’s just part of the mystery of growing up.
I was in a darkroom once watching a friend develop nude pictures he had taken of me. I sort of hoped, just the tiniest bit, that he would decide he liked me more than his current girlfriend and leave her to be with me. Didn’t happen. I was, in fact, maid of honor at their wedding.
The chemicals filled his nostrils, and he breathed them deeply. His wife hated it when he locked himself up like this developing photos of their children, but he found it was the only way to calm himself after the stress of such long days. He never let her know how afraid he was, or how much he hated his life, or that he wanted to die. She could never guess. He wouldn’t let her.
There is a little girl in the corner of the darkroom, dead. Who is this little girl? No other than my sister. She lingers here, waiting to have revenge on the man who did this. Our father.
I always preferred a dark room with a single lamp pointed to the far corner of the room. In the summer with the window open at night, darkness, but one light. Peace…
its dark its spooky its cray i am scared oooooo says someone in the distance and i say who is there no one anwers someone jumps out at me and says need a night light and then disappeares it was scary said reagan ooooo says soething oh no its happening again
The darkroom appeared menacing with the door closed at the end of the long hall, but when she entered she felt calm and peace wash over her.
okay darkroom who am I really writing for, who is watching me is it you? I have a problem writing something for someone if I can’t see or understand who that person is, but maybe I am not supposed to maybe I am just supposed to just write maybe I am supposed to just sit here and write to myself about something that isn’t even about a darkroom anymore.
Scary
I hate it
I need someone to hold my hand. WHere’s my blanket? I’m cold. My feet are freezing. I thought I just heard something over there in the corner. Is that even the corner? I don’t think so. Geez this is creepy. I hate the dark Get me out of here, please! Oh, it’s calming. Not that bad, actually! I like it in here, I suppose.
Anything can happen here. It depends who you’re with. Why you’re there. If you’re even there at all. If you even know this place exists. If there is a way to make it light. If you’re stuck in this darkness.
The only place where she can escape from the blinding light, where she can make reality out of her thoughts… all through a picture.
Dark room, like editing film. I did that in DMS 101. Back at UB… I should’ve just gone to Buff State right out of HS, but I was lazy. Too lazy to look for the right program for me…. Damn, that’s a regret. oh well….
This reminds me of the play “How I Learned to Drive”. The uncle takes pictures of his niece in his darkroom of the basement. It disturbed me but was an amazing play. I want a darkroom, to fix my pictures of odd things like tree faces and beautiful soup stains.
it is the one place i can feel at home, lost within the the pulsating darkness around me. i feel as if i’m on the edge, dancing on the tightrope between reality and imagination. anything can be done here, and i can be anyone.
i see in the darkroom where no one else can
I see in the darkroom when I can’t find my own hand
I see what I am and who I’m meant to be
I see in the darkroom that I can’t hide from me
in a dark room all alone she sits and writes beautiful poetry. she waits for her true love to find her and save her from her shallow and pathetic life. with a razor at hand she doodles on her skin. thinking that it makes her beautiful. she never understands how beautiful she already is no matter how many people tell her this. her life is a dark room.
There are dark rooms all over the world. These dark rooms are everywhere. Some are filled and some are empty, dark and desserted. We may go are whole lives and not come to relize people are suffering in these dark rooms. We may choice to ignore this and move on with our own lives. Its just too difficult we think to stop and help. I believe a smile can save a life.
I quivered in the dark room. My eyes were tight. My fingers numbed at the sense of crimson blindness. It was cold. Frozen eyes were vacant in my face and I screamed. Screamed for knowledge. Screamed for comprehension.
I sit in the darkroom where my photos develop. All is quiet and I am alone. Solitude is beautiful though.. I breathe it in, I feel it. I feel at peace. At peace with my photos. At peace with myself.
The man entered the dark room with a sense of fear. He knew that he only had thirty seconds. Now 29.
28.
He grasped his fear.
27.
He held onto his wife’s hands.
25.
Well, the ghost of them.
I carry the candle, and trip over my stairwell, where it drips from the liquid firey red wax, to the bright white carpet where only invisible stains sit, all but one filled with hurt.
The people gathered in the darkroom were in great peril. No matter what any one tried there was no way to get out. The air was slowly getting harder to breath down into their lungs. Farther and farther they fell in to dispair. One by one they sunk down to the floor and slouched over. It was so dark that they could not see one another but they all new each others eyes were slowly closing. One by one they fell into a deep sleep. One by one they sunk into an oblivion which none would return from.
it was a dark room, one single window near the far corner but all light was blocked by the large fur tree outside. The old man just sat in his chair not caring about the lack of light. He just stared at the fire and continued to think.
i dont know what a darkroom was, my dad is talking so much, i think a dark room is where they do photography. duh. that is what it is. im silly. its dark in my house. there’s a blizzard outside. this is fun. dark rooms are dark! you cant let light in them. this page reloaded on accident. i feel like thats cheating. i wish i knew what a darkroom looked like. ive always wanted to go in one. i think my old high school had one. im pretty sure they did. they had to have, they had a photography class
dark, lonely afraid of the dark room unkept emotions and secrets lay in the darkroom
I see a darkness in the room and im afrad. araid of where my mind will take me, back into where i dont want it. back where im always afraid. always shivering. always cold and filled with metal bones. i need help. the only colors i see here are like ad weather.
One of my biggest fears are dark rooms. There is something about completely losing or weakening one of the senses that really scares me. You never really know what is beyond your fingertips and every time I am in a dark room I think about how reliant I am on my sense of sight and how drastic my life would change without it. Please dark rooms stay light.
im in a dark room and this dark room is very scary there are alot of people in here and i cant see them but i can feel them. i can hear them and they are yelling. i also smell them. i want to move but i cant cause im scared ill fall. i cant see anything at all. i can hardly breathe in this dark room. i want to its very hard.
He dipped the slick paper into the shallow pan of fluid. The red light reflected off the surface.
I am sitting in the darkroom, when all of a sudden the door opens, and the sunlight is illuminated around him where I can only see his silhouette.
Alone
I sit and wait
For the candle to go put
derp
Anything can happen in here. Anything can end up not happening. Depends on who you’re with. If you’re alone. If you’re even there. If anyone is there. If you even know this room exists. If its always dark.
oh typical in black
how dark can you get without fading
to nothing
oh typical in language
how far can you run in the dark?
read a simple phrase
too harsh for simplicity
too cold for real
end up like them
and close the curtains
on them
they entered the darkroom. there were supposedly ghosts in this room, but these ghosts obviously did not wish to be exterminated, because they had recently seen the movie “ghostbusters,” and they thought, hey. that’s not a nice way to treat ghosts.
sex in high school not me though unfortuntley? that’s a hard word to spell. where exactly does the ‘e’ go? does it matter? if you can understand what i’m trying to say regarldess or where every single letter is then why does spell, or mispronunciatoin for that matter, matter?
I have come to the conclusion that if I stay in a darkroom I will die. I need to be where there is sun on my face daily or I will perish.
it’s dark. here. in this room. pin hole. light . I know that I see. see through. the sky knows me and you words are written there. I believe you.
A symbolic place where people go to hide from their troubles or go to be depressed on their own. It doesnt have to be a room- it could just be a place to be alone and think about ones troubles. In a non symbolic sense, it is a place where hipsters go to get their film developed. Fake hipsters give their film to people at cvs. True hipsters have their own darkrooms. Or it could just be a room with no lights. Who knows.
pictures. developing them. with the red light as it sinks into your skin, forever being red. surrounded by it completely. is there no other color that exists? will these photos forever remain touched by this gleam?