I am not lame at all. ... And nothing else is getting done today, darn it. D;
I welcome you to my train fic, the fic that was written and edited on the one the many, the Cityrail train. Yes, indeed.
I'm never going to catch up at this rate. D:
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Dial Up
6918;
Implication;PG;Emo-ishh
/Alienation and I? We just get along.
If it makes no sense to you, it makes no sense to me either. :|
--
They were merely two lonely individuals, trapped in their separate worlds.
It was difficult to explain.
There was not a word that could be found, a phrase that could be employed in explanation. At once it was something, and then, an insignificant nothing.
That contemptible Emotion. Overwhelming, crushing; even within a heart that no longer beat.
Could no longer bleed.
But these sentiments, these ‘feelings’, had long vanished.
Perhaps, if you could truly understand, explanation was not necessary. It was something intrinsic, that you understood simply by feeling and being. Something instinctive.
It was a barren place.
Yet they embraced it.
Because it called to them, to the darkness that lurked in the depths of their mind and soul, deeply rooted in their very being; and in comparison to what they saw daily, what they observed of the foreboding world - they favoured this much more.
Hands spread wide, welcoming.
One wiped the plate clear of useless emotions, wielded his own brand of justice with a ruthless violence that knew no bounds.
The other smiled in apparent amusement and laughed mirthlessly, showing his well-woven façade to the world with a deep cynicism that remained stubbornly unshaken.
Two such parallels, like red and blue, white and black, discipline and chaos.
But such things were only discernible in light.
In the darkest of shadows, where the glow of the pale moon did not fall, things were faceless.
Light water droplets in the air swirl and twist around each other as the rising mist curls into the dissipating clouds where they meet in the expanse of sky.
The impenetrable darkness folds around them as their bodies move in unison, tied together in the one undeniable way they never thought was conceivable. Soft clouds of air moisture escape into the frosty air from panting lips, mingling, churning together in the soft light like the expellers of the sultry breaths below.
Who they are no longer matters.
To watching eyes, they clash, they fight, but it is two similar wounds that jar together, rubbing in the tiny grains of salt, and inflaming the injury. Physical pain, they can bear - are well used to - but this psychological wound that descends into the soul…
The other’s world is not so hard to understand.
In fact, there is a strange sense of connection and familiarity. They have been here before.
That sense of displacement, he knows. He feels it, understands it. Although they believe in different things, fight for different reasons, this one thing is left pure and unchanged and is what so indisputably connects them like no other sort of attraction.
Drawn together by the forces of gravitation.
Even surrounded by all the warm bodies, shrouded in the bright sunlight and the pure blue expanse of the sky flaming with a pure unbridled flame, inside they are frozen, cold as ice, unmelted by simple pleasures.
But even a diamond can break.
Their hearts are fused by their common understanding, whether it is unwanted, or desired, or denied. The cord grows, strengthens from the obsession of thought from the reminders of abandonment in the dead of night. And the hand moves slowly, as the imagination paints the image that makes it all perfect.
Another in the world they once thought was empty, devoid of anything but the crippling loneliness that they buried away.
‘Would anyone ever understand the way I feel?’
Such questions were, at best, useless. Reality - what was seeable, palpable - was what mattered. It was pointless to chase things that were impossible, that was learned the hard way. So they had revelled instead and used it to their advantage, resigning themselves.
Little had they thought, this would be their connection.
I'm never going to catch up at this rate. D:
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Dial Up
6918;
Implication;PG;Emo-ishh
/Alienation and I? We just get along.
If it makes no sense to you, it makes no sense to me either. :|
--
They were merely two lonely individuals, trapped in their separate worlds.
It was difficult to explain.
There was not a word that could be found, a phrase that could be employed in explanation. At once it was something, and then, an insignificant nothing.
That contemptible Emotion. Overwhelming, crushing; even within a heart that no longer beat.
Could no longer bleed.
But these sentiments, these ‘feelings’, had long vanished.
Perhaps, if you could truly understand, explanation was not necessary. It was something intrinsic, that you understood simply by feeling and being. Something instinctive.
It was a barren place.
Yet they embraced it.
Because it called to them, to the darkness that lurked in the depths of their mind and soul, deeply rooted in their very being; and in comparison to what they saw daily, what they observed of the foreboding world - they favoured this much more.
Hands spread wide, welcoming.
One wiped the plate clear of useless emotions, wielded his own brand of justice with a ruthless violence that knew no bounds.
The other smiled in apparent amusement and laughed mirthlessly, showing his well-woven façade to the world with a deep cynicism that remained stubbornly unshaken.
Two such parallels, like red and blue, white and black, discipline and chaos.
But such things were only discernible in light.
In the darkest of shadows, where the glow of the pale moon did not fall, things were faceless.
Light water droplets in the air swirl and twist around each other as the rising mist curls into the dissipating clouds where they meet in the expanse of sky.
The impenetrable darkness folds around them as their bodies move in unison, tied together in the one undeniable way they never thought was conceivable. Soft clouds of air moisture escape into the frosty air from panting lips, mingling, churning together in the soft light like the expellers of the sultry breaths below.
Who they are no longer matters.
To watching eyes, they clash, they fight, but it is two similar wounds that jar together, rubbing in the tiny grains of salt, and inflaming the injury. Physical pain, they can bear - are well used to - but this psychological wound that descends into the soul…
The other’s world is not so hard to understand.
In fact, there is a strange sense of connection and familiarity. They have been here before.
That sense of displacement, he knows. He feels it, understands it. Although they believe in different things, fight for different reasons, this one thing is left pure and unchanged and is what so indisputably connects them like no other sort of attraction.
Drawn together by the forces of gravitation.
Even surrounded by all the warm bodies, shrouded in the bright sunlight and the pure blue expanse of the sky flaming with a pure unbridled flame, inside they are frozen, cold as ice, unmelted by simple pleasures.
But even a diamond can break.
Their hearts are fused by their common understanding, whether it is unwanted, or desired, or denied. The cord grows, strengthens from the obsession of thought from the reminders of abandonment in the dead of night. And the hand moves slowly, as the imagination paints the image that makes it all perfect.
Another in the world they once thought was empty, devoid of anything but the crippling loneliness that they buried away.
‘Would anyone ever understand the way I feel?’
Such questions were, at best, useless. Reality - what was seeable, palpable - was what mattered. It was pointless to chase things that were impossible, that was learned the hard way. So they had revelled instead and used it to their advantage, resigning themselves.
Little had they thought, this would be their connection.