Clockwork: Part 2 (Ambrose Anthes)Video Journal LibraryClockwork: Part 2 (Ambrose Anthes) by entropyintrovert
Entry 1 out of 43
[Man walks in, slightly balding, a medium-quality suit on]
[Looks bedraggled, and tired, doesn't look like he wants to talk]
[Opens mouth several times, doesn't speak, seemingly scared or in shock]
"Well...." he said, trailing off. "I seem to be in a bit of trouble, don't I?
[Attempts to smile, instead looks pained and nervous]
"A few months ago, I met a new patient, a William Harris, I think it was. He didn't seem to be doing well, didn't have any friends, and had some psychotic episodes prior to his landing on my doorstep."
"He seemed to like opening up, like it let something out, like it made him feel better. I was hopeful, because a patient who has an attitude like that usually get better very quickly, because they know that if they work at it, they will."
"William was a special case. It seems that alongside his all-aorund psychotic episodes, he was also suffering f
Clockwork: Part 1 (William Harris)These past few days have been.... well, I guess... I can deal with it on my own....Clockwork: Part 1 (William Harris) by entropyintrovert
My... mother.... died...
She had schizophrenia, and one of them, Barry, I think it was... wanted to kill himself.
Barry was usually such a nice guy... But I have to remember that it was all his fault. If he hadn't been stronger, if he could have coped for just a few more days... It would have gotten better. Wouldn't it? My mother, Miranda, was always a good person, and she would have talked Barry out of it. Barry wasn't a bad guy, he just wasn't stable. And now he had killed 6 people with a single action. It wasn't enough just to hurt himself, he had to hurt my mother too...
I've been getting over it, slowly, and I've been collecting Mother's things from her room in Cathy's Brook, the institution where she had lived. I still can't understand how Barry did that. It was supposed to be impossible. Some would sue. But I think that would be insulting to my mother, taking advantage of her death to get m
Telephone Wires.The daily routine was the same for you, as it always had for years.Telephone Wires. by SonamyFangirl6637
At least since he came along.
The house was quiet, cold, and empty.
It's been that way forever.
You stayed put, locked up in your room completely silent as if to be trying to act like you did not exist.
Bitter isolation of the outside gently coated with the sweet, pure sent of the fresh falling rain as it fell heavy to the ground.
How utterly peaceful.
A feeling you wish you felt but were deprived of.
You stood by the window lost in thought as you watch tiny black bunnies in groups of 3 hop along the wet ground, each group separated perfectly by at least 3 feet like a looping film.
It left you feeling calm.
You didn't even notice the albino deer right in front of your window.
Jumping back, you watched as it just stood there.
You knew it was a deer but it didn't act like one.
A normal deer would stand there and watch every move you made but this one didn't do that at all.
Sure it watched you but it's bright r
Matthew - Part 1 It was unseasonably warm the day we met, or maybe it was just me. Perhaps it was just the warmth of my heart beginning to stir once again. It's funny to think of it now, how someone so small and fragile could change my life so drastically. He was dirty and hungry, and so pathetically small. A bit like a tiny, injured canary, thinking back. Of course, I didn't realize at the time, as I'd never been truly hungry even once in my life. Even as downtrodden as he was, he seemed so ethereal. His blonde hair laid flat and matted on his head, and his blue-gray eyes were lusterless - almost like a corpse. I think maybe, it was the way he stood on that bridge, gazing out at the wide ocean. You could see a tiny spark of life in those flat, glazed-over eyes that gaped at the enormous blue brine before him. Yes, it was a very warm beginning for us. A very warm beginning, to a very cold story - The story of my Matthew.Matthew - Part 1 by HolyWritingBatman
That day, I was being escorted home from my 12th birthday par
Icy StreetsI walk the icy streets alone. Couples with linked arms walk around me. Couples and friends.Icy Streets by DreamsAlone
I listen to the lonely beep of my apartment card in the security door.
I'm alone in the elevator. Through the elevator glass I watch the city plunge into darkness. I see a single figure faraway, my heart beats for a second. I watch for a moment in hope, that there is another single figure in this city. The distant figure breaks into two.
Two figures walking side by side on the icy paths.
I walk into the empty apartment. The heat greets me in silence. Pounding into my body. I quietly take off my jacket. It's not warm though. This overheated apartment, don't mistake it. It's as icy as the city's streets.
Lost HorizonYou are my lost horizon even if I've never found you.Lost Horizon by NeonHermit
I watch you off in the distance day and night, always just out of reach.
Found a way to never be too far away though.
I follow you around in my dreams, and your never more than a sleep away.
The MoonMost people want to be like the sun, always shining bright.. But I want to be like the moon, because while the sun abandons us in our darkest hours, the moon rises above to watch over us all.The Moon by NeonHermit
PaintI dropped my paintbrush in the dirtPaint by NeonHermit
painting you was just too much hurt
I painted over where your mural use to be
your lost beauty was more then i wished to see
away towards the clouds you flew
praying for only you
no one else will replace what I've lost
no credit card could hold the cost
I met you working behind a carnival booth
you asked for nothing but the truth
i never ever lied
or at least i tried
I was blessed with your kiss
your lips were my bliss
God decided to take you away
now its just another lonely day
If I grow up"I want to be a doctor."
It had been a simple question that the nurse had asked me and I had replied with an equally simple answer.
One that would most definitely please her and hopefully would stop her from lingering on the subject.
She exchanged the almost empty sack of medicine next to my bed for a full one and smiled at me.
"Really? Now why is that?"
Another simple question and once again a million thoughts ran through my head.
"I want to make children like me better."
Her friendly smile turned into one of sympathy a she gave me a small pat on the shoulder and left the room.
I did it.
I had told her exactly what she wanted to hear.
I looked around the room to see two other kids, a boy and a girl.
The boy was sound asleep and the girl was quietly sobbing underneath the privacy of her blanket.
She must believe that no one can hear her.
I knew because I had been there, too.
There were another three beds in the grim room that the nurses had desperately tried to cheer up by ha
Hostage MindAllow me the pleasure of telling you the truth;
of your beloved little reality.
The curtains that blow and billow such as the limbs of a willow,
the curtains that gather and flow over your sleeping form,
they are nothing more than tattered fabric,
hanging limp and suffocating your room.
Moonlight that filters lushly around your fortress from out the clouds,
the moonlight that touches silvers jewels and shines of them,
it's nothing more than feeble, watery rays,
occasionally sneaking in through those torn drapes.
The vibrant colours of the outside woods,
the colours that shine of autumn and spring and warm things,
they are merely illusions, abstract creations of your mind,
available only when you're sleeping.
You see, child, it's all up there;
it's your own imagination that's holding you hostage.
memories don't just fadeMy eyes are red and bloodshot, with low-lying eyelids.
I widen them; it stings a little.
So I squeeze them shut, and open them again
- very slowly.
I've been sobbing on my pillow; it's smudged with my mascara.
Why didn't I take my makeup off before I went to bed?
What was the point of that question?
I sigh, I know exactly why there's no room in my mind
for thoughts about skincare.
I turn back to the mirror on my bedside, and trail my gaze down from my pathetic eyes
toward a purple gash running diagonally from my cupids bow
to the left side of my cheek.
My lip is split, so it hurts to talk now.
"If I slice your mouth sweetie, you'll remember that you mustn't talk." That's what was said.
My body jolts, I turn the mirror away. I don't want to look at my face anymore.
I shut my eyes - gingerly, to save myself pain -
and I tried my very best
to go to sleep.
Smells of ink,
Still warm from the printer.
Choose the best answer
Not the three that are good.
We are brainwashed;
There is only one right answer
Success is only measured in one way.
Filling in a bubble:
Right or wrong,
We are turned into points;
Small black circles.
But that is not life;
There is not always one right answer.
There are good choices
And all right choices.
There are bad choices too,
But we are not defined by them.
We can change our minds,
Change our path.
Some paths may be better than others,
But we can still be successful.
Not all choices are good or bad,
Right or wrong.
Some are just different.
Some are just choices.
Rose on a grave.Was it just yesterday that you left my life?
Every minute feels like an eon
And every breath hurts like a knife.
Will I make it to the dawn?
Dear God, will you tell her that I'm sorry
For not being there when it happened?
Dear God, will you tell her that story
About the lost ship and the angry captain?
Dear God, will you sing her to sleep
Every night that she's lonely?
Dear God, will you tell her to keep
In mind that she's the one and only?
Dear God, will you tell her that I wasn't mad
When I didn't pick up the phone?
Dear God, will you tell her that I'm sad
And that I'll never leave her alone?
Dear God, will you tell her that I love her,
So much that it aches?
Tell her that now she knows what was above her
Because she didn't have time to push on the brakes.
Dear God, tell her that I'll never forget
Her blue eyes and sweet voice
Tell her that I'll never regret
She'd always be my first choice.
Dear God, tell her that our little boy
Is really proud of his mom
Tell her that he finds joy
The Skies bleed redThey shout,
The skies are red, the skies are red,
But that's not what I see.
I see a land that seems well bled-
A sight saved just for me.
I watch as clouds of cotton floss
Shed bombs through spiral stairs.
I watch them shatter upon the earth,
And leave it burnt and bare.
Oh, where are the cold stone buildings gone
That once stood tall and strong?
Where are the bustling, bursting throngs
That filled the streets? What's wrong?!
At once the world swells and sways,
The reds turn ghastly white.
Through the mists of my cluttered mind,
I see a flash of light.
It leads me out into a park
With a noise I can't shake off
I hear them scream, I hear them weep,
But I see no sight thereof.
But, wait, I see! My vision clears,
I see the bleeding line
Of bodies bare, of scared death masks
And oh no! That one's mine!
My face lies pale, my eyes as misted
As they must have been
To all the world, for the things I saw
They could never have seen.
I lie shattered in a pool of crimson,
My body is so finely ble
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