VGFacts

Feel free to post anything you've written or comment on such that has been posted.

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“In this world, there is no one who does not suffer,” echoed mysterious words from across the void. The darkness made him tremble, the sheer emptiness plaguing his mind. He was not at peace like some who enter the darkness. He was very much burdened here. He’d seen hell and it was in humanity, and only now, through all he had done, did he realize those words were his own. No one was speaking for him. This was his experience.

He woke up, looked around, pondering what it was he had dreamt about. His sleep was interrupted as dampened light forced its way into his tent. The day had begun anew. So, on his travels he set foot, with violin in hand and tent on his back. The previous night had done him no justice. He had done a terrible thing. The people he had crossed would never trust him again, and so he was alone again. “… no one does not suffer,” slithered from his mouth, just grasping the thought again, but he ignored the ominous feeling and continued to walk.

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Tobias. That was his name and the cursed bard was his shame.
It was what people called him when they saw the beast within. It was not his
choice, it was not his sin. Yet, slowly his worries consumed him grim, and he went
off to see the world again. Tobias ventured, Tobias hid. Tobias wanted to live
again. Through his travels, he heard many legends, and he sang of them to those
he met. He was at peace; he had had no relapses. Well, he hid them rather well
until yesterday at least. There it was again, those thoughts in his head, and
though he tried suppressing them they appeared yet again. This was dangerous,
he knew and he feared.


The madness was upon him.

Though we have our moments of shine
we safely assure that all is fine.
When we put our effort into a craft
no matter how hard one does it they are simply ignored.
They are treated with the blankness of a draft.


If most people were able to give someone who isn't up to date some feedback.
The range of the artist will be forever gone, and that is a fact.

Oh and here's a fan-fiction I wrote a couple of months ago.
http://clxcool.deviantart.com/art/Power-...-366882631

One day an ugly person was approached by an attractive person.

"How ugly you are!" the attractive person remarked.

"I'm beautiful on the inside!" the ugly person shot back.

And so the attractive person cut open the ugly person to see. There was only loneliness inside.

(10-18-2013, 11:32 PM)Hexadecimal Wrote: [ -> ]One day an ugly person was approached by an attractive person.

"How ugly you are!" the attractive person remarked.

"I'm beautiful on the inside!" the ugly person shot back.

And so the attractive person cut open the ugly person to see. There was only loneliness inside.

Wow, the attractive person must be a blonde...
*Boom boom crash*

*No offence to blondes!*[/size]

One night. I had a called it a night. I dreamed that I was on the road.
Driving a hot rod to the sounds of the sax, putting the pedal to the medal to the max.
I was headed to Coney...Coney Island here I come.
Driving at peace didn't appear as it seemed. As this was the beginning of the dream.
I reached my point but the place was packed
didn't have normal people. Just crackheads that were mad as rats.


I was questioned by the law who they asked me questions so roughly,
I decided to not answer ever so abruptly. Ditching the park I aimed for anew.
I heard a beep,looked at my meter and it was empty. Boy. Now i'm screwed.
Nowhere was the nearest gas station I called a taxi
one that was driven by a dame who named Maxie.
She filled the gas tank up to the point.
After her work was done she light herself and yours truly a joint(cigarette).
Noticing her bags I asked her if she was leaving town
she responded "You kiddin me? This place is upside down!"
Took that as a yes and offered her a ride.
I smiled so smug as I knew my chances of getting laid were right on the die.
We driven out into the night where it was not close to dusk.
The memory of Coney Island. Was nothing but ratted up muck.

He dared to care and with work to share
but ripped out his hair and his load did tear
himself a flare in mind up there
and at last he stared and found he did not care.