I am so incredibly dense. Take a look at the little avatar I chose. Alice, of course. See what she's holding? A key.
Do you see a keyhole?
(more) What's more bloody illusory than that?
Oh, Alice. If you only knew what's on the other side of that door. Snapped strings, a marionette crushed by wolf's teeth, your own teeth lost to Disease, your future as a pleasure bot (pleasure for the user. no one ever said pleasure for you. silly girl, feelings are for people.)
Help. I was a shining star once, for a few feeble moments, worshiped in this 300-word box of a temple by a Northern god with dreams sewn straight into his flesh.
What's wrong with me that I can't keep quiet anymore? Girls without teeth ought not to talk. It's unsettling. We lisp, and our bones show too much through our whisper-thin skin. It's obscene. Too much leg at a church social.
Love Jesus, they said.
I always love too much.
I thought it was over. I'm so hungry. I wish I could eat.
The Reality Shifter awoke with fear. He had lost control -- again -- and he was beginning to wonder and worry why. He settled back into his bed, relaxing, easing himself back into sleep. He felt his mind awaken once more, this time within his unconscious.
(more) Dark, grim, purplish colors dripped everywhere. The void was black, and the Shifter found himself concentrating, connecting, reaching out to simulate the city of New York out of the nothingness. He found himself standing now, in a piercing white blanket, in his Canvas. He got to work.
The Shifter did a marvelous job with creating the city; with outstretched arms he raised each skyscraper, laid down streets, built statues and monuments, and, with an orgasmic burst of creative energy, he built Central Park in gorgeous hues that exaggerated the natural and architectural beauty of the place. Now his favorite part: the people. Flicking his fingers, they appeared out of nothing, but they were all people from the "real" world -- they just didn't know they were being edited yet.
Thousands, millions more people joined the scene. The Reality Shifter cracked his knuckles and set to editing, when suddenly, he felt a great disturbance within the dream. He floated up to fly above the city, and saw, out of the terrace of his imagination, a huge, dark, devilish creature arise from the vast ocean.
The creature faintly resembled Beelzebub, but its image kept shifting, and shadows obscured him, as if he were a product of hallucination. His great claw lurched out and struck the city, wrecking skyscrapers, and his other claw gripped the other side of the city, until, with great force, the creature ripped the entire place asunder. He turned to the Reality Shifter.
"You're next," he rasped, and laughed hideously. (less)
It was dark backstage, and quiet. The Amazing Raymundo could hear the murmers of the crowd beyond the curtain, could feel the butterflies in his stomach that never quite went away, no matter how many shows he did.
(more) A signal to his "lovely" assistant Betty, and the curtains began to draw slowly, with a squeaky grating sound borne from years of rust. The Amazing Raymundo stepped forward, and with a flourish of his cape, greeted the tepid applause from the half-empty theater.
The first half of the show went as well as usual, although Betty kept flubbing her lines. "Rabbit from Hat" went off without a hitch, although Raymundo thought Mr. Bunbun might be coming down with a cold.
Things really started to go wrong when they got to "Sawing Betty in Half." Betty had never gotten along with Shari, the Legs. Shari had wanted the top spot as Raymundo's stage assistant for as long as she had worked for him, and made it abundantly clear she felt she was more qualified for the job.
Raymundo agreed with her; Shari was more professional than Betty, could remember her lines, and wouldn't even require the air-quotes around "lovely" assistant. But, Betty had seniority, and all the dirt on Raymundo two decades of assisting could provide.
Raymundo could hear the women bickering backstage as Betty loaded Shari into the legs compartment of the box. He couldn't make out any of the words, but their tone told him everything he needed to know. Betty wheeled the box out onto the stage far too roughly, and the illusion was ruined before it began. Scowling from some backstage insult, Betty "accidentally" rammed the box into a heavy wooden table onstage. Raymundo heard gasps as Shari's legs burst out of the back end of the box.(less)
Half his face was covered-
he had to be hiding something-
beneath that dark blue hair.
When they kissed she was
(more) Deep blue, a well, a sink hole,
an ocean swell-no wonder
her sister pushed her forward.
She was the youngest,
the sacrifical lamb.
She went willingly enough,
that was true. That night
the candles, flickered, bobbed,
wine glasses raised, smiles
peeled off faces.
"I had a wonderful time", she said,
he bent down and-
Her mother was conspiratorial
on the day, tied a ribbon in her hair, smiled:
"All of this is yours, but this room
you may not enter."
She turned the metal over in her hands,
it warmed to her skin, stuck in her mind
like a thorn, worked its way in as she slept.
By morning she was infected, sick
with not knowing.
She was afraid of him-aren't we all?
Even Eve cowered God,
every child listens for mother
as she sneaks sugar from the bowl,
and doesn't it taste sweeter?
Down the corridors, descending
deeper, staircase after staircase,
down, the key burning white
hot in her hand until:
The lock turned smooth, she steeped
through the threshold and sank
into blood, a room of flesh.
The walls hung like a butcher's shop,
the wives limp and dull as mannequinns.
The key clattered, dropped, sank
into the red, she dived after it,
the white flesh of her wrists splattered,
the metal tainted. She closed the door,
she locked the room, she scrubbed:
But the blood would not wash clean.
And the house was built on bodies,
blood and bones, she could hear
the foundations stir, could taste iron
from where she was bound:
deep in the earth,
beneath his feet.(less)
i look up to the shimmering sky, the sun beating down in the sweltering desert. i lick my lips, but no saliva stays, leaving them bone-dry. i climb the towering sand dunes, searching, hoping for water. but i know my chances for surviving is merely an illusion...
They walk among us, and you'd never know. Typical smiles, eyes.. however, alluring personalities. The sudden laugh is somehow intoxicating, and you forget that you didn't know this person just moments before. Maybe you know this, but you find yourself not caring, actually. You relish in the attention. That perso(more)n is talking to you, that's all you care about. But why? Never mind that. Why even ask that question? You talk back, because that's what you're being told you want. And you want it. You want this person. This person you never knew before, and never wanted -- now you have to have this person, you can't think of a way to live without.. this very person. There is no way you can resist this compulsion, and you seem like you'd never want to. You just fell, completely and instantly, for the one gazing into your eyes. Though there seemed to be nothing unique about this face before, though it seemed to blend in with all the others.... You didn't know they were hidden here, in real life. And you still don't really know that; you're blinded to reality. The smile you're in love with is lowering down, now, into your neck... and you're perfectly OK with that.(less)