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The NamedThe NamedThe Named
by Gerrit London
Sideways glances. The emptiness of a full room. Looking. Reading. Looking. Writing. In this room there is comfort for those not alone. For those with no names, paranoia fills the air. How we die for our names to be said!
We are all shadows until we are given names. In here, in life. Even with the light of the sun, we cannot be seen without our names. But name us and we are free. You will see us...not our shadows.
And in the end of life, as long as we have our names we will live forever. For even though the shadow, the empty vessel of a body, may die, the memory, th
by ~bodomchild42788
Butterfly KnifeButterfly Knife By Gerrit LondonButterfly Knife
Moonlit sky. Lamp-lit streets. Buildings lit up like Christmas trees from the perennial luminescence of halogen lightbulbs. All this light creeps around my sunglasses and pierces my temples like bullet trains from Tokyo to Shin-Osaka. Too much light. Too much visibility. I scrape my scalp with the remnants of what finger nails I had. A shaking hand touches my back and I lose my shit. The butterfly knife in the passenger seat of my ’97 Ford Taurus flies its way into my hand. I reach back and stab the heart, that pumps the blood, that flows through this hand, that has the nerve to touch me aft
by ~bodomchild42788
Never AgainNever Again by Gerrit LondonNever Again
I've lived in a world of hatred so long that I hardly noticed my environment until I was removed from it. I can't make the wounds go away and I don't mean to. I must always remember where I came from. That is the burden that I have been given. To always know what kind of evils can come from those you love. My only sane option is to take my pain and turn it to love. Because I would have killed myself long ago if I gave in to everything I have been assaulted with. I often believed what I was told, believing that I was to blame and they were my victims. Games of the mind, heart, body. They were mea
by ~bodomchild42788
Icarus Manifest: IntroIcarus Manifest by Gerrit LondonIcarus Manifest: Intro
Introduction
I think there’s that point in everyone’s life when you think, “How the fuck did I get here?” It usually happens when you take a wrong off ramp or get into a bad relationship. Blood drips from my eyelids while Vatican City burns before me. The flames do their sensual dance. The smell of burning papal flesh penetrates my whole olfactory system. I wonder, “Really, How did I get here?” And I remember… ~ My memories of her are fading. I’m hanging on to what I can. She had blonde, no, brown hair, and green eyes. Eyes that when she stared at me from across the
by ~bodomchild42788
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- Current Residence: Los Angeles
- Interests: Film, writing, music
- Favourite movie: Fight Club, LOTR, Brick, A Clockwork Orange
- Favourite band or musician: Twilightning, Children of Bodom, Wintersun
- Favourite genre of music: Metal
- Favourite artist: Roger Dean, Salvador Dali, Joseph M.W. Turner
- Favourite poet or writer: JRR Tolkien, Chuck Palahniuk, Dashiel Hammett, Mervyn Peake
- Favourite style of art: Surreal or Romantic
- Favourite game: Saga Frontier 2, Any Final Fantasy, Street Fighter, Mega Man, Ico, Shadow of the Colossus
- Favourite gaming platform: Playstation 2
- Favourite cartoon character: Maui Mallard/Cold Shadow
- Personal Quote: I was you. You will be me.
- Tools of the Trade: Any word processor will do. Photoshop CS2 is also quite nice.
- Website: http://myspace.com/london_falling
- Email: bodomchild42788@aol.com
- AIM: valfareinwindir
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i think you and my sister are the only people i kno on this site. its kinda cool cuz its like myspace where everyone and their grandma has one.....
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marilyn monroe once said "woman who behave, don't make history"
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