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seanasea-sierra-wallenWhisper
Canadian
1920's projectureWe talk, but only in my dreams and when i awake in the morning i wonder if maybe you might of actually been there, but when i've blinked my way to the surface and realize that im laying there alone and have been since I first layed down alone, you were never really there and havn't been for what feels like centuries. Disappointment and a mixture of anger sink's and I rush out of this bed that once held you. When i've clawed my way out of the grave of nights filled with what now is a ghost, I look around the room and replays upon replays flow through and out into the open like a 1920's projecture. After being glued down to this floor by the sea of memories trying to take me down, I walk out the door and when I do, the oceans spray hits me like your hair did when we hit the bed and for a minute, I feel you, all over me, every inch, like grapevines on a forgotten building, take over what's left. But I rip through it all cause I don't like to be broken down. I head up the staires and fall because your voice keeps calling me, pulling me back, climbing up to my shoulders and pushing me down as if my legs are slowly disinigrating. As I lay there, in defeat, every inch of my body is tooken over by the feel of you, your voice, your touch, your smell, your taste, your ghost. And while I talk to you in my thoughts you louer me in, word by word, inch by inch. I'm sailing away, back into you, away from myself, in a sea of defeat. As I sail closer and closer to you, the wind picks up and steals everything. The voice, the touch, the smell, the taste, my sense of direction. It steals all from me and leaves me in the sea to fend for myself. As I float, the waves grow higher and higher and take me down under. As I get pushed down, farther and farther by the pressure of the unknown, I start to give up and realize there's really no need to fight because theres nothing I can do. Nothing I can say. Nothing. So, as this scene comes to an end and I hit the ocean floor, I then look up and see that everything's come to a rest and all is calm, I then look up and see the world. The world in which doesn't involve me. A world in which doesn't realize where i am nor does it care. A world in which was mine. A world in which is you. / (c)SeanaseaWallen 2010
A monologueWilliam Melchert-Dinkle: / A monster... no. A murderer.. .no. A giver, yes .Sound’s about right. How can anybody judge me after I checked myself in and tell me that I’m sick in the head. I’m aware, it might not have been right, but they were asking for it, all those kid’s needed was a little encouragement, a little push to go after what they wanted. People said it was an addiction.. .a pleasure if you please. No, it wasn’t, I didn’t get off from it, Fein for it, it just made me more comfortable knowing that there’s a little less hate in the world. Sure, I lied but if I didn’t, do you honestly think they’d be fixed? Do you honestly think that anything would be different? No, nothing would, they’d still be the same kid’s hating their lives by each growing second of each and every single day, being miserable and making everyone else miserable around them. Does guilt ride on my back? Of course, I sat there and told kid’s all these sick and twisted way’s to end their lives and I watched them do it. I pretended I was doing it with them so they weren’t alone, I don’t really know what came over me. If I wasn’t feeling some sort of guilt or remorse over this, so called addiction, then I wouldn’t be here, would I? Look, I just came here to geLhelp. I’ll admit it, from the outside looking in, it was wrong to do this. Every single part of it seemed wrong to everyone, the fake pacts, the fake Identity. But I only did this because I wanted to help them. So at thern end of the day, we all got what we wanted. What else can I say other then I’m sorry? But sorry doesn’t fix everything, certainly not these habits and all the opinions. I guess one way to look at it, is that at the end of the day, after I faked being there for these people, faked caring and following through, I’m the one that’s alone, just me and my messed up habit’s. But hey, if I jumped off a cliff, would you do the same?
CigarettesIm going for a walk. A walk to clear my head. Clear it right out. Take away the memories, burn away the knowledge, i don't care. Everything need's to be moved out of my mind and thought's and sold at a garage sale for all i care. This fresh air isnt working. Where's my lighter, come here cancer. I take a deep breath in and take in all the toxin's with it, hopeing maybe a chemical reaction will effect everything going on in my head, melting away everything. Step, inhale, step, exhale. While blowing out the toxin, i blow out my thought's and memory and walk right back into them. Blow by blow, im taking them for you. Puff by puff, im taking these in for sanity. Half way done and block's from home i keep looking over my shoulder hoping maybe you or someone like you will follow quickly after. Oh cigarette, why must the comfort you bring over me disappear once you've left me? But like you, the cigarette did not respond, because the cigarette was gone and out of my hand's. Out of reach. So i stand there, looking at the empty space where the just barely burning end of the cigarette settles into place and i just watch the snow take over. I watch the once visibly lit cigarette turn black and into ash's. Even though the cigarette's burnt out, im still standing here, uncertain as to why im here, but im here and im waiting. I will wait until dusk and if the spark comes back, i will move at the paste the spark moves. Just to make sure i stay with it. But if not, i will go home and i will relight another cigarette, hoping maybe this is the right one.
Goodbye.Face to face, we sit here, knowing full well what the future holds for us. We sit here, with both our minds racing, finding it hard to catch thoughts to place on our tounges and roll out as if this is easy. This is the hardest thing ive ever done. With sorrow drowning our eyes and thoughts projecting through mine, I know where we'll end up. I know that no matter what I say or do, I cant fix anything and that leaves me broken down, waving the white flag in defeat as the rain starts pooring down my face. Youre here infront of me, but youre gone. We take eachother into one anothers arms for one last time, detangling our hearts string from string. My arms are empty again. I look down at them, just to make sure my eyes arent deceiving me. But its the truth, youre gone and im see-through. These earthquakes turn to sunamis and these plains crash until the very last one has bursted into flames, causing nothing but a disaster inside of me. You've left your mark on not only my heart, but my skin as well and once these marks are gone, im left with nothing but these memories and an abandoned house for a heart. / (c)SeanaseaWallen 2010