| Herein lies a series of digital artworks, photography and mad writings spurred by the dark recesses of my mind. Or what is left of it. Enjoy. |


Diaries of a Schizophrenic.Purple, Sand. Isn't life grand? A baby Has been born, and graced Us with scorn. Ah, it's cries Are too much to bear; Put it in a cradle, and I'll Retreat to a chair.Diaries of a Schizophrenic.
Orange, White. It's at the dead of night. The child has run; and found Himself in plight. What
Colours might he see, In scores of marijuana; And hyper ecstasy?
Pink, Slate.
My mind has met it's fate.
In opposition with some Wondrous side of I. I am two;
But I am one. It's not so Much fun. Staring down the Barrell of a loaded gun. &


Al-BaqaraWho are we? The effortless, the free?Al-Baqara
In spite and mirth, a coma Is a never ending sense of glee.
Pity...
You might think there is some rhyme or some reason, But it's all fitting for the time, and the Grime of the season(ing).
You're cut up. And packed up. And put on a refrigerated shelf. So you're bought up. And cooked up. And mixed up. And shoved down.
Make sense, it certainly does not.
I'm quite fine!
Smite for fire, development of ire. And your sire. Who came after you. &
| Herein lies a series of digital artworks, photography and mad writings spurred by the dark recesses of my mind. Or what is left of it. Enjoy. |
| I think too much. I am the key to the lock in your house, that keeps your toys in the basement. And if you get too far inside, youll only see my reflection. Its always best when the light is off, I am the pick in the ice Do not cry out or hit the alarm, we're friends till we die And either way you turn, Ill be there, Open up your skull Ill be there, climbing up the walls Its always best when the light is off, Its always better on the outside Fifteen blows to the back of my head, Fifteen blows to your mind So tuck the kids in safe tonight, Shut the eyes in the cupboard So not cry out or hit the alarm, You'll get the loneliest feeling That either way you turn, Ill be there, Open up your skull Ill be there, climbing up the walls |
i like your work as well
keep it up
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To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance, to dream.
p.s your welcome ;]
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| mygallery. | thewritingcompany. | myportfolio. |
--
To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance, to dream.
--
| mygallery. | thewritingcompany. | myportfolio. |
--
To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance, to dream.
--
| mygallery. | thewritingcompany. | myportfolio. |
--
The sun is an abandoned child. once, when the world was dark his mother hung him in the sky with the thread from her womb. he runs, illuminating the world, looking for her.
ENCORE!
haha.
--
To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance, to dream.
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