Thurstan Crow And His Beloved Wife

It was the biggest gala of the year. Everyone from milkmaid to baroness were invited to attend the celebration of the engagement of the two remaining heirs of the wealthiest families in Ironbridge. The ladies, in their finery and the men with freshly shined boots, all arrived at Torchwood Manor, the home of Baron Jules Torchwood, the father of the groom on this particular evening teeming with excitement and anticipation.

The moon was bright and high in the sky; weather clear and a subtle breeze blew through the wind chimes that hung in the garden. Eveyone was dancing and chatting in the grandest ballroom in the Manor. Everyone was a blur of fine, colourful clothing, and the smell of rich wine and freshly picked flowers was thick in the air. Exactly an hour into the festivities after everyone had arrived, the Baron Jules stood up on a stool and summoned everyone to gather around and direct their attention to the ostentatious stiarcase where Eliza Foretta, the bride would be decedning down the stairs. just then in a flury of music, the doors atop the stairs swung open and out walked an angel. Madam Foretta looked so stunning everyone was held in complete shock and awe for a sum of minutes. Finally the room burst into cheering and applause and she ran down the stairs into the arms of her husband to be. Never before was there a happier couple, or more anticipated wedding.

It was at this exact moment when the grand mahogany doors of Torchwood manor suddenly swung open wide once again. Everyone, confused, stopped cheering and clapping and started at the doorway. There was a collective gasp and a tangible and horrified silence as the visitor strolled through the doorway, casually, like the devil himself. He sauntered down the stairs with intent and a strange, eerie smile on his face. Though it is not the visitor himself that had caused such a scene, but rather what he held in his hands: A large glass jar with a human brain suspended within. Submerged in strange green liquid that almost seemed to glow in the light of the chandeliers, he gripped the jar under one arm and walked towards the crowd. 

whispers rippled amongst the stunned people, and it was all the same name. Thurstan Crow, the renowned scientist who had gone mad after the death of his beloved wife.

Who was allegedly the owner of the human brain he carried with him.

Innumerable

Innumerable and watchful
Silent observers
Rarely considered by the every day man
Patient and omnipotent
Minuscule in the vast expanding sky
Yet present and aware
Waiting, watching, wordless.

He’s sorry.

He’s sorry.

I really don’t know what to think.
Or say.
Or do.
I feel like I can’t breathe or think or do anything.
I feel like I’m suffocating. Slowly and painfully.
I feel myself breathing, but it feels strained and forced.
I don’t understand.
I thought I knew everything.
I can’t understand it and it makes it so much worse.
I can’t.
I’m lonely and upset.
And even now as I lie awake in your bed, trying to sort out the broken peices of myself,
I feel everything and yet nothing at the same time.
I have nowhere to turn.
No where to go.
I’m alone and I’m terrified.
I wish I could help you but I need to breathe.
I need a moment of air. I need to know this feeling doesn’t last forever.
There’s not enough air.

””“”I’m special im important i do nice things for people. let me post on fb about how great i am. taking my damn siblings to buy their halloween costumes. im so fucking nice spending my money, lik omg im so FUCKING GODDAMN NICE ITS FUCKING REDIC. 

oh but my mommys gonna pay me back 4 getting them costumes

bUT WHO CARES IM HELLA NICE CAUSE I AM TEMPORAILY SPENDING MY MONEY TO GET THEM COSTUMES OH MY FUCKING GOD LOOK AT ME IM PERFECT.”“”“

—bascally this girl on fb.

One of the guys who had a big crush on me recently messaged me on facebook. He was either extremely wasted or out of his mind. He began proclaiming his “love” for me, and how he never stopped caring about me even after all these years. 

I didn’t respond because

1. I don’t feel the same way about him in the slightest

2. I didn’t even know WHAT to say

3. I knew not to take what he was sying 100% seriously, as he was clearly not in the right frame of mind.

to be honest it made me sort of sad. we used to be pretty good friends, and had some good times. it sucks that life just kind of took that away from me, and with his move out of fresno, he kind of took that frienship with him. I was never interested romantically, but still, its just another reminder of something ionce had (a friendship) that was kind of ripped away from me. which happens a lot. I lost a lot of friends.

IT'S MIDNIGHT AND I CAN'T SLEEP.

  • 1: Picture of yourself
  • 2: A description of my self-esteem
  • 3: My favorite book
  • 4: Biggest Turn Offs
  • 5: Biggest Turn Ons
  • 6: Most famous person you've met
  • 7: What I want to be when I'm older
  • 8: My relationship(s) with my sibling(s)
  • 9: Relationship status?
  • 10: What I did yesterday
  • 11: What I'm doing today
  • 12: What I'm doing tomorrow
  • 13: Most embarrassing moment
  • 14: Description of who I like
  • 15: Biggest insecurities?
  • 16: Something I wish I could change about myself
  • 17: I'll love you if...
  • 18: Something I'm really good at
  • 19: Something I'm really bad at
  • 20: What I wish for at 11:11
  • 21: A reason I've lied to a friend
  • 22: Favorite Movie
  • 23: Something that has made you mad recently
  • 24: A random fact about yourself

Oh, its frustrating because I know exactly how I feel about you.

Maybe I should just get a twitter so that i can post all of these random thoughts I have and it be acceptable. I dont want to bother you guys. sorry if my posts get annoying.

I want to play Far Cry 3.

Yeah I’m gonna use my twitter now.

I know its stupid and I have no right to even care, but it makes me SO upset. All i’ve ever wanted was to feel something again, something real— Something that reminds me that I’m even alive, that anybody on this earth could ever possibly care about a person like me… sometimes people tell me they love me, or that they care about me, but I know that if they knew exactly what was going on, they wouldn’t understand. I’m really alone. It may seem overdramatic, and I know everyone has problems of their own and can’t be bothered, but what is even the point of me being here. Everywhere I look is darkness, and everyone i try to turn to disappears. 

I love my family. I just hope they know that.

I’m so tired but I can’t sleep. And if I do I wake up, and the darkness returns.