Arts + Entertainment
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Looking Glass
Past the looking glass, what is it that makes me special? Does the mass and the masses that weighs me, that torture me, and confine me... make me any less special? The looking glass that I spend my days examining, the tools that measure my weight on the world, are those helping me or destroying me? Am I meant to be skinny, pretty, quirky, funny, and charming? Or am I just meant to be whoever I am? The blurred line that fuzzes the truth, holding me stiff and wary. Which side of this tiny tightrope should I walk on? Should I become 'her'? The person that I want to be, whom I desire I was instead? Is she any more special than I? Am I worthless? Does it only matter that my appearance isn't as fair as hers? My insides slowly rotting while my outer shell cloaking the truth. Every meal I miss causes more blood to drip onto my collar, down to the very floor on which I burden. Why should I exist when it only pains me? The truth that I will *never* be her, that I am also going to stay me. That truth is not the truth I want. If I can't fulfill anything if I won't amount to anything why am I still here? Why am I still in this world that only makes me dread. Why not instead take a knife down that very line in which divides me. Cut through that cloak who was never even me. Show the world my inner self, as they say, "it's the inner part that matters," right? Let the blood gush down as my tears do. Why not just end it all? I'm sure it would be easier than staying here. On the floor, I let out my sorrows, like sparrows who never actually learned to fly, but jump the jump anyways. Clarity rushes through me. Do I deserve to die? Really? I'm sure it'll be easier but am I really straining you that much mother earth? Oh, mother earth. Why did you create me as you did? Just a repulsive speck of filth, soiling your soils. Is it okay if I live on? As myself, not her. Not anyone, no matter what persona people push onto me. Do I deserve to have that freedom? To have the bliss of loving myself? Oh tell me mother earth, as I want to... I want to be free. I want to jump the jump even though I never flew. I want to soar the skies, examine your faces. I feel relieved. Burden slipping away, possibly onto its next victim. My blood and tears mingle. Creating a new substance, a new me.
By Elentori Smith8 years ago in Poets
Movie Review: 'Friend Request' . Top Story - September 2017.
Friend Request is yet another failed attempt to combine social media and horror. It really shouldn’t be that hard to combine the two when you consider the daily horrors that social media enacts upon us when we simply pick up our phones, but filmmakers have thus far made the combination look impossible. Social media has numerous innate existential horrors that could be exploited by a smart filmmaker but the question seems to come back to how you can exploit that for a body count and so far no one has been able to pull that off.
By Sean Patrick8 years ago in Geeks
The Ladder
On good days I climb up a few rudders on this ladder and on the not so good days I climb down a few, maybe slip up and fall down a few more. On the worst days I sit at the bottom of the well. The water down here is dark and it wants to eat me alive, it saps the energy from my body. I gaze to the top, looking for the light, wondering what caused me to fall all the way down here. Things weren't always this bad. But eventually, I gather my strength and start to climb again. The process may repeat several times before I reach the top, but I've breathed the air outside of this well and it's sweet. The air smells like freshly cut alfalfa on a cool summer day and the breeze is refreshing. I want to sit on the top of the well and bask in the warm rays of a meadow filled all of my favorite flowers. And on my best days, I do.
By Tasha Benson8 years ago in Poets
Where'd You Go?
Why do I feel so fucking sick, why do I hate myself so much. I miss myself before the pain, I use to dance in the rain but now I'm drowning in it. I feel defeated, mislead. I want to cut til I'm dead. Help me please I'm on my knees begging on the ground, you just can't hear a sound. I'm stuck. No one gives a fuck. Every day is the same shade of gray and my soul pays. It's not that easy to move on in life believe me, my heart is breaking and I'm shaking as I write this. I want to let you all know my soul needs to go be free because I am not me, I am pain and insane. I need help but no one hears the cries they just believe what they see with their eyes. I'm broken down, seems like no ones around to see that I'm barely breathing, misreading. My words are true and I need you but where are you? You told me to go get help then you yell and I'm always to blame, I feel the shame. No one can love me I'm a piece of shit and you will all see when my body hits the ground from that parking garage. I'll jump in the wind and pay for my sins. Will I ever be ok? Or should I put red in the gray so they will see what they did to me and my heart is a bittersweet symphony. Right now I don't know why I pushed through the pain, I'm losing hope. Now you all I know why I drank to cope, no one can handle me so I'd drink a handle then be numb and succumb to my pain, lines straight to the brain tamed my thoughts but now my thoughts are all I got.
By Leandra Trujillo8 years ago in Poets
