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AngerAnger is sly. It creeps up on you when you least expect it. One minute you’re perfectly fine, the next your bubbling over like a pan full of water on a stove. For me, it’s often when I have high stress levels. Anything can tip you over the edge, the slightest movement. It will be the pettiest issue but once I’m pushed that’s it … crash bang wallop. I want to hit everything in sight. I want to scream as loud as I can at the top of my voice. I want everyone to just go away. Then, that overwhelming feeling of anger subsides and left in its place is sadness. That’s the worst part. I don’t want to hurt other people and I know my anger is stupid. It’s at this point I cry. It’s strange how sometimes when I feel sad I can’t cry at all, I wish I could let everything out but the tears just don’t come. Yet, when I’m angry it’s like all my tension releases and left is everything that has been building up for weeks. It
Being an only childIt’s funny isn’t it. When I introduce myself I say “Hi my name is Sarah.” That’s it, that’s all you get. In order to really get to know me you have to become my friend. You have to earn the right to information about me. Yet, it’s commonly known that most people make up their mind about someone in the first few minutes of meeting them. What does that say about society? What does that say about you?
It’s only when people really get to know me that they find out that I’m an only child. It’s not that I hide the information. I just never feel the need to volunteer it. However, maybe the reason that I’m so shy when I meet you is because I don’t have sibling interaction. I don’t have to compete for attention or scream and shout. This perhaps has made me an introvert. I’m also prone to wanting periods of alone time and I enjoy talking to myself. Not in that weird she’s mental way. Just for company, somet
The Perks of Being a Psychology StudentPsychology is everywhere. It has been woven throughout human history; through war, through love, through life. When I reached that crucial stage in Year 13 of applying for University there was never any question what I was going to study. It was always going to be Psychology. A determination to understand humanity and a desire to help others drove me towards this goal and I haven’t looked back. Now as September approaches and my third year beckons I am filled with anticipation and excitement at what the year ahead holds.
As a fresh faced student the first day of University was overwhelming. I was in a strange place with unfamiliar people. The year ahead was daunting. Waking up for my first lecture was nerve-wracking but the lecture itself was thrilling. A door was thrown wide open and the possibilities were endless. I could learn about society, the brain or even ghosts. In a further bid to socialise I attended the Psychology film society to discuss my passion with like minded peo
MissingYou're the last piece of a jigsaw,
that just cannot be found.
You're the missing wire in a broken circuit,
that stops the light shining bright.
Not having you around,
leaves a whopping great big hole
But now you're back and here to stay,
no longer lost at all!
DeathI watch peacefully from the shadows waiting till the time is right. I see misery that prowls the streets and despair reign upon us. The night is dark and cold but my prey still walks along. Accompanying my victim is not happiness, love or faith. Instead it is loneliness. He was promised a life full of happiness and love but as it comes to the end he knows the truth. There was no such perfect world. It was never meant to be. Now as he approaches where I lurk so silently I tiptoe out of my hiding place and beckon him forward into a new better world where misery and despair are banished. Where sadness and loneliness are no longer welcomed. This world is empty. For I am death.
FacesThere's a woman walking along the street with a wide grin on her face. The world is fooled that she's happy but look closer, her eyes are red. She's been crying for hours and hurting inside. She's suffering a pain that no other human can understand. She's plastered a smile on her face because she knows the world will see what it wants to see. When she's smiling no one asks if she is ok or how she is feeling. It's like she becomes part of the scenery, invisible and unimportant.
Look there goes a man, his lips are tightly pursed and he walks with a purpose. You wouldn't know that he's shaking inside, suffering a crisis of confidence. He doesn't trust himself anymore since he almost lost everything, his kids, his house, his life. He might roar like a lion but he's as scared as a mouse. He puts on this face so that he can pretend everything is alright. When he does this he knows people won't notice that anything is wrong. They are all too busy dealing with their own precious lives.
AbuseIt wasn't love at first sight. At first he was my teacher and I truly loathed him. His name was Marcus. He'd always pick on me in class and so I thought the feeling was mutual but even then he was manipulating me. I was too blind to see it.
One day he asked me to stay behind after class. I thought it was to tell me off as usual but that's when everything changed. He wanted to start tutoring me as he felt I was a top student and therefore worth the effort. Every week we'd sit in the classroom learning and surprisingly I enjoyed it. I was enjoying his company too. I had very few friends and now that I was working so hard I rarely even spoke to them. I didn't feel isolated but I guess looking back, even then, I was a victim. Then one lesson out of the blue he stroked my face and told me he wished he could take care of me forever. That was it, I was hooked and I longed to be with him. The lessons in the classroom stopped after that and moved to his house and then to his bedroom.
DepressionDepression is a strange subject to talk about. Most people avoid it at all costs. Some jump straight to the biological explanations for it; it stems from a deficiency of the neurotransmitter noradrenaline in certain brain circuits or it's down to a mutant gene that starves the brain of serotonin. Others take the psychological point of view that depressed individuals acquired a negative schema during childhood making them biased towards negative interpretations of the world. These views seem rather cold hearted really. I mean when it comes down to it whatever the case may be depression is painful, it tears lives apart and so many people suffer. I have a lot of friends that are depressed; in fact so am I. More than anything I'm stressed and lonely. I don't see the point of living. It's the system that gets me down. Some think self harming is an option or suicide but that's letting the system win. You see my friend didn't beat the system. She died last night. She took her own life because
DarknessShe sits unmoving in the darkness as silent tears slowly roll down her face. Her slim figure is illuminated by the moonlight as it pools round her feet. She stares into the mirror and hates everything she sees, the gaunt face with no hint of a smile, the knotted hair, the baggy worn clothing. This is what the world must see she thinks. She cannot grasp that the world cannot see this but instead a bright and intelligent young woman with the prettiest looks and a sense of individuality. As she stares at that awful person looking back at her she wonders why she is alive and this is when she makes her decision. Who will care she thinks? I've cried and I've cried and I've cried but no one listens, no one helps. This is my final plea. I'm lost and there's no way of finding the right path. I have no purpose. She crosses to a cupboard and finds what she's looking for, a pair of sharp glistening scissors. They look menacing but it is hard to believe they could take a life. Yet this i
What is on the other side?When you're staring at your reflection, what do you see? It is obvious to most people that you see an
exact image of yourself, but how do you depict that lingering 'image' that surrounds you?
What exactly do you 'see' when you look into a mirror? Light is everywhere and no person can escape
it. The same can be said about a person's feelings no matter how hard they try to cast a shallow mask
behind their true emotions.
Just how fragile are we? There are some who have more willpower than others, but lack in other
departments that help to build us up. What is it that makes you a strong or weak person?
What are you gazing at? Do you perhaps see a strong individual on that other side of the light? Is
there something dark and mysterious about that 'impostor' that you just can't figure out yet? Where
are you? Who are you?
What is on the other side?
Validating Your Tears (I'm Sorry) But what you don't know is that I'm frustrated that I can't write a poem about the thorns growing on my veins and icebergs rooting in my heart. I can't write about the void in me when he no longer plays me Beethoven's music or sings me out of tune songs. Because there's none. I don't feel anything when he leave.
Truth is, I want to feel crushed, and heart broken. Because at least sadness can prove that I loved him and that what he said about me never loving him is wrong. And I don't want to prove him right with being happy.
I want to write something beautiful about him. I want to write a poem because that's what I know, that's the only thing that had me getting my emotions back in boxes. I want to write a poem about us smiling with dandelions on the roadsides and crying without rain to validate our tears. I want to write so
Words on a ScreenLife has been a v i c i o u s cycle.
I’ve stuck in it for years, since senior year of high school. This was when friends turned away, turned into things I didn’t need. Depression destroyed a lot of what I held dear, leaving my life in shambles. Somehow I made it through to the end of the year. Somehow I managed to grab hold the edge of my cap, and managed to toss it up into the air, and join my Class of 2011 in celebrating the feat of graduating high school.
It wasn’t until I was out in the real world that I realized the saying, “You are only friends with people at school because you saw them five days a week.” Quickly I watched as everyone got married off, or had kids… within the simple span of months since we took pictures on the tarp covered graduation floor. The men wandered off to their missions, the women started families. Everyone I was around for the final year of high school quickly ran off to their fut
do it.Suffering isn't always pain.
Sometimes its having to itch your finger,
when you wanna strike a match,
and watch it all just fucking burn.
The World Is A Trigger: Social Works. It all began with a look outside the window. Perhaps they could have of told them that they had no daughter, or that she wasn't there... But where is there use in lying when all their names are in he system? Before there was a chance, they met her eyes. After adult-talk, the sheriff walked in. His words burned against the rim of her cranium, the way he directed her to clean her room... But truly, was that his worry? Or was it the way the black mold on the living room walls curled so delicately, as though purposefully designed. Perhaps he wanted her to start simple and keep her hidden in lies, despite the obvious truth that returned her glares. Then again, maybe it was due to the dog's papers, full of business, that the sheriff slipped on. Maybe, again, he wanted her to begin small. But what is so small when he questions her desire to live in this Hell? Had she known the world, had she known a true, "normal" household, perhaps the sense would have met her to beg them to sav
masochist.It's not the simple pain that I enjoy,
it's simply the pain of loving you,
which gives me my sick thrill.
KaterleYou are what taught me how to love, your breathing my dictionary. I sleep best when you're snoring next to me, as you're doing it right now...
We met when I was about ten, and I wasn't doing well. You came with sky-blue eyes and the old lady you just wouldn't stand to be separated from. The beauty of winter, but your heart was a camp fire in the deep dark woods, a comfort to the lost wanderers like me. When my head ached from crying too much, I had a soft place to lay it down on you. Your fur dried all my tears. Your gentle purring drowned all thoughts of sad and grey.
That house was never my home; but they say home is where the heart is, and you were there, and I stayed with you.
Would I still be alive if I had run away back then?
Would it even be life without you?
And whenever my heart hurts, I have you. Your sweet, gloved paws to touch my face, your calm heartbeat to talk to me. The only thing it ever says is 'I love you.'
It's an echo of my own, it's the voice of all my thoughts. T
Life and DeathIt seems funny to write about life and death. In a few weeks I will be turning 21 and I hope I have many happy and healthy years ahead of me. I would like to live them to the full. I would like to have children and grandchildren and to be survived by lots of family. Yet today I am sad, really sad. Someone I really cared about died. They weren’t a family member but they were close enough. I used to call her auntie. She played hide and seek with me when I was little. She was a lovely vibrant woman always interested in others. I saw her only a month ago. She looked old but I never thought that she was nearing the end of her life.
A few weeks ago my Mum and Grandma went out for lunch with her. She asked my Mum to e-mail her a copy of my dissertation. I was only too pleased to share it, happy that someone was showing an interest when they didn’t have to.
Saturday night my Grandma went round to her house for supper. She was fine and they enjoyed their time together as they always
ReflectionsVal's pursuit led him to the foul beast's domain. The hollowed-out cavern reeked of blood and rancid meat. The dim light he had seen as he charged through the tunnel after the monster could now be identified: torches. Rows of mysteriously lit torches lined the walls of the huge cave. At its center was a substantially large labyrinth of mirrors.
He spotted the beast entering.
He spun his silver broadsword in his hand and hurried in behind it.
His garb was a simple blue and white crusader's leather with thick armored pads and reinforcing steel studs. Lightweight and flexible, but quite effective defense against blunt blows and – in a pinch – the slashing claws of the unholy spawn of the earth. All monster-hunters wore a similar variety in Val's experience. It would serve him well in these close quarters of the mirrored maze.
Right, left, forward, left, right he turned, always catching a glimpse of the beast's tail as he wove his way through the corridors. Every so often he sp
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More