10th August 2012

Post with 1 note

Once you weave a web how does one untangle the strings…

Tagged: original quotecreative writingprosesadnessdepressionstormyraven

8th August 2012

Post reblogged from Through My Eyes with 262,846 notes

Reblog if you actually give a shit about anyone who’s suicidal or depressed.

Source: yourbritneyspearsanon

8th August 2012

Post with 2 notes

Evils Revenge

Blood drips slowly from her swollen cherry lips as she looks up from the floor where she lay.
An evil smile crosses her face not quite reaching her red flaked green eyes.
He knew how to hit a woman. He must of done this many times before, but had he ever crossed a woman that knew how to take a hit? She thought this over in her mind as he came in closer, no doubt to strike her yet again.
She dared not to flinch away, she would not show weakness to this animal. She licked the droplets of blood off her split lip and savored the taste.
Something within her came alive at that moment, something that had lain dormant in her for so many years. A darkness so twisted, so sick that even the most vile of men would condemn her as insane.
The stranger had plans, she could see it in his stance. He stood over her, his legs spread the width of his shoulders.
Yes, he had come here to make her another victim. He would take her against her will, if she couldn’t stop him.
He reached out his hand, grasping her hair, wrenching her to a standing position. As he snarled into her ear some words she couldn’t comprehend over the putrid smell of liquor the filled all her senses.
She wanted to strike at him then. To rip and tear out his eyes from their sockets,but patience was key. She had to allow him the false sence of having the upper hand.
He hit her backhanded across the cheekbone causing a shear of pain to go crushing across her skull. She stayed silent.
He spun words of hatred around her as he pushed her against the wall of the dim dank room. Her skin touching the wet cold feel of what appeared to be concrete.
Her mind had drifted, back to another place and time, when her father would come home drunk and this wouldn’t be much different than her childhood memories.
That was then, however, and things had changed when her father had “accidentally” fallen from the roof. She had been helping him clean the gutters that day. Such a sickening sound his head had made when it hit the sidewalk. Kind of like a melon dropping onto pavement on a hot summer day. That sucking, popping, splat sound.
She smiled, and the rather large man struck her harder, ripping her dress in the same motion. Blood covered her chest, the iron smell mixing with liquor, sweat and a hit of mildew.
It wasn’t until he started to grop at he breast that reality seemed to take hold. This man was touching her like he had all the right in the world. He would have to pay, and pay dearly he would.
Looking around the room she saw nothing to aid her in her escape. She had only one options, and the evil gleamed in her eyes once again.
She began to laugh spewing blood from her badly damaged mouth, as the man took this as encouragement, he began moving his way around her body.
She looked at his exposed neck and grinned wickedly, and with one fluent motion she bit into his neck ripping at his jugular vein with every ounce of rage, hate, anger and passion that she could muster from within her beaten body.
The man was completely taken by surprise.  He stumbled and grabbed at his gushing wound, in a faint hope of stopping the blood flow.
She saw his desperation and attached once again, knocking him to his back. She climbed on top of him pushing his hands away and again she ripped into his neck with animalistic vengeance.  Pieces of flesh hung from her mouth as she dangled the fresh meat above the mans face.
Blood went from a gush to a stream before finally the light vanished from the mans eyes and he laid motionless, dead.
She laughed, got up and walked out into the night as if nothing had ever happened.

Tagged: creative writinghorrorshort storyrevengestormyraven

5th August 2012

Post with 3 notes

Ghost of Seaside Manor

She walks around at night haunting the very place she hates the most, although she isn’t dead, heart spirit has long ago left her broken.
So many years of love,of life, lost to holding on to a fantasy that never was meant to be left her without hope, without promise of a future.
Her destiny forever tied to this run down, decrepit place that she once called home.
Now there was no escape. The walls were caving in around her, threatening to bury her in solitude.
So many questions she needed, wanted, desired answers to, but it was all in vain for he was gone now. Crossed over to the other side. Took his on life like a coward in the night, instead of answering a few simple questions.
Tonight she would join him once again, her soul already gone, left with a numb existence, she would end her suffering.
As she climbed the castle stairs to the attic, she looked around one last time, hoping to find one happy shred to cling to, sadly she found none.
In the attic she fastened a noose, stood at the window overlooking the waves crashing against the cliffs below and silently, she became the real ghost of the seaside manor.

Tagged: short storycreative writingGothic writingfictionstory

5th August 2012

Quote reblogged from CRIMINAL WISDOM with 297 notes

Those who can induce you to believe absurdities can induce you to commit atrocities.
— Voltaire (via criminalwisdom)

4th August 2012

Post with 1 note

It’s truly amazing how one person can become two totally different personas both branching out from the same personality.  Yet completely different in every aspect.
This is not a case of multiple personalities because the person knows everything that is going on as a whole, without blackouts or loss of time, although there is a “out of body” experience associated with these episodes.
I’m writing this because I’ve discovered myself doing it more and more frequently these past few weeks.
It’s safe to say I’ve been battling deep depression and some manic behaviors, but I’m not bipolar.
My condition is a border line personality disorder not otherwise specified. Which leaves the doors wide open.
Lately I’ve found myself evolving into another person completely, this person has all the traits I’ve desired to have, confidence, wit, sexuality, and charm, not to mention “she” is amazingly brilliant.
I’m very confused by all of this for the reason that I’m not sure if I’ve somehow unlocked these traits within myself or if I’ve simply created a persona to take over where I feel I lack the ability to achieve in particular situations.
As I set back and examine the things I do as this “other” person the more comfortable I feel in allowing myself to be lost in “her” or simply be the person that has been hidden away for so many years that I’ve forgotten who I really was..on either account I no longer know who is real and who isn’t or if we are both the same..
There are two sides to everyone a darker side and a lighter side could this possibly be a case of light overtaking dark..or simply overcoming depression.

Tagged: advicepersonality disordersquestionsoddstormyraven

2nd August 2012

Link reblogged from Fractured Mirror. with 10 notes

Fractured Mirror.: Masochistic. →

yumandcoke24:

There is something lurking deep inside
of me, I hold myself up to the light, I hate what I see.
Gut my writs of their veins, make this happy blood flow.
Muscles, and tendons gift wrapped in nonsensical absurdity,
lacerate my brain, let it drain, expunge me of my repetitive creativity.

I have…

2nd August 2012

Audio post - Played 30 times

Someone like you by Pop Evil

Tagged: musicstormyravenlonely

31st July 2012

Post with 1 note

Anxiety ..please let me go! Can’t you see you’re killing me with your hold around my throat ..
No One.. can save me from this nightmare that darkens my world, my light, my life ..
Darkness ..you’ve betrayed me! You’re protection was all in vain
I feel my world crashing,thrashing, all around me now. All for nothing! No reason do I have to feel this way, no right do I have to feel these feelings! Numb is all I deserve to feel..
No love in my life should ever enter, no kindness should ever be given
Panic ..you’ve found me once again ..your icey talons claw into my flesh like razors ripping,shredding, tearing my body apart.
Disgrace ..oh how I feel you creeping up on me wavering in the shadows of my tormented mind
Death ..you deny me peace..you toy with me making me think my suffering will soon be over with your black veil ..only to slip away and leave me here teetering on the edge of continuous dispire
Life..you’ve given me the hand I have to play..now if only I can hold on for one more day…

Tagged: depressionanxietypanicdeathlifemestormyraven

31st July 2012

Question

Anonymous asked: My parents fight all the time, and they don't try to hide it, but I have four little sisters all under age 13 and I guess I just need some advice, I never know what to say to them when they ask about it

my best advice is to just try to tell them that your parents just don’t agree with each other, the same way your sisters probably fight over different things. 

just realize that what your parents are doing is not your fault and make sure your sisters understand that too.

i know its hard living in a house with the constant fighting and honestly sometimes the best thing to do is to look for outside help,someone you can trust especially if things are phycail.

your safety and the safety of your sisters are the most important thing there is,and getting outside help may make your parents realize just what exactly they’ve been doing.

but try to sheild your sisters from the fighting as much as you can and just be gentle but honest with them.

hope this helps…hang in there