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SilverArdour

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74 Getting There!

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About SilverArdour

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    Member

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  • Age in Years
    24
  • Gender
    Not Telling
  • Sexuality
    Bisexual
  • Favorite Genres
    Horror
    Paranormal
    Romance
  • Location
    Somewhere, everywhere
  • Interests
    Does this thing involve any reading? Then yes. Is it Greek myths and other ancient mythos? Then yes

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  1. How does it feels? My love is like the beating of a thousand burning wings. Have you ever seen love crafted with fire and life breath into it? Yet the memories of your face torment me. Your words echo in my mind and the happy memories haunt me. I could still feel your stubble underneath my fingers and the warmth of your skin. Why was it that I can't remember any of these good moments? Not when I was alone and still with you? Why the thoughts torment me still? Why now? Your promises are empty, You have been as good as abandoned me. Not even the sl
  2. There is beauty in first love, Maybe with the fact that it will end. Tell me, Have you ever experienced, or see something so raw and primal? The entire body shuddered Heaving, Chocked with tears and grieve. Throat pained with a thousand burning stars A thousand unsaid things and unspoken emotions Grieve clogged your throat. So everyday I remind myself. There is beauty in my broken love, untaught, untamed and its hunger. It was untaught, As my family never love me. Untamed, Laughter echos "Who has taught me love?" Like pieces o
  3. Its 12 30am again. Of course I am crying, I wish the pain would just stop. What do I have to do that this will stop? I think its cruel...its cruel that he left me with advise to stand tall, to love myself and wanting to see me succeed in life. 'Go take a shower. We will scrub our hair clean and they will feel nice again.' A soft voice whispers. How do I even love again? I don't know how. I was never taught. What do I do everything for now? What do I fight for? There is no one to hug me tighly anymore. I dont have an anchor. 'For your future self.' That voice whispers again,
  4. Ironic is it not? Not once had I done things for myself even in the name of Love. The modern west speaks of a higher self, But the idea is as ancient as the Earth itself, In the middle east they speak of Qarin, It is a djinn they said, It is unknown, their name destroyed by god himself, For a sin unsaid, It is a species hell bend on ruining us, But most of all it is a human`s counterpart, They will lure you to do terrible deed like a siren to a sailor or so they said. Then why does mine comes in the form of wraith? Why does it haunts my dreams and nightmares equally, No matter
  5. Its alright haha. For now life is sad and morose but there is always hope for a happier future. There is no prevention for grief but the same goes for joy. Ohh yes. This definitely calls for another soul chilling poems
  6. I have no faith that this story will turn out the same as the original piece that I have read years ago ūü§£ but most of all I love the intricacy in their plan to lie to the parents. I agree with Peter that since you push me to a corner, allow me to give you what you want...by law I am following everything you wish for. But Peter? You are an ass. This is love we are talking about. What excuse is that? Take responsibility. No wonder Tristan, hearing that, took his train home. You should made your plan known to your beloved but instead he had to hear it casually while shopping for you. N
  7. Ah I have lost my mind. When we get back lets get lost in the exhaustion and madness. Let us feel the ache and pain in our muscles and blood 

  8. Elton

    He let the rush of madness in and became fearless. His mind isnt constrained by limitation anymore.

    'Just as practiced.' He felt that spark before, as if lightning were a thread and had extinguished it before it got out of control. But now he welcomed it. He felt the hole opened up and his limitation as a human being vanish, like being trapped a snow globe drifting across space.

    Slender fingers that belong to a 5'1 frame gripped the gate, exactly where the bolts securing it situated. The gate was a foot taller than him, but he gripped it and pulled.

    Blood and adrenaline flow in every bit of his body and filled his mind with rush as the gate came off almost like its made of paper.

    The sound that come out though, was the loosing high pitch of iron before it ended with a loud snap as if iron beams were slammed down. 

    With the momentum and rush filled him, he allow his arms to fling the iron gate towards the house, hiting the cement part of the floor. 

    Among the loud and fearful commotion were pale faces of his family and the air of retribution. They are afraid that he had actually been right and able to exact it. Good. Their fear tasted like cotton candy, the sweetness vanish before he could savour it and he wanted more. 

    "TRECHEROUS DISOBEDIENT CHILD! GOD HAS HIS WRATH ON YOU! YOU WILL BE IN HELL!"

    Oh she had to doesn't she? 

    It was automatic, his fingers unconsciously reached out to the sky naturally and the connection opened up. He could feel the vastness of the skies and heaven above. He pluck at the sky, felt comforting heat at his fingertip and brought it down on the house. 

    Lightning came. Not as powerful as he felt or imagined but it hit the tv aerial and spread through out before bursting every window in the house outwards.

    A figure wailed and fell down on their knees trembling while clutching their ears, "AHHH!!"

    He watched with a rigid cold expression before entering the car.

    "Drive?" He asked the man.

    The other male snapped out of his shock and shift the gear. 

    A/N this is a trial excerpt. So it might be cringeworthy. Please note I typed everything at one go without review. I want to see the state of my mind and skills of my writing. I ll review them later and I finish grieving the kitten so more update.

  9. Unhinged.

    6:37am, after unable to sleep since he came back from work, doing a straight 8 hour shift at 12:30am. After the sleepless nights before.

    'A bad decision.' He thought.

    'But one that no substance can replicate. No cigarettes, alcohol or drugs can replace the addicting rush of madness.' Silently, the thought echo. Almost bitterly. 

    How many times had he overworked to cope with grief and pain? Countless.

    Counting and on going,

    As he typed this out. Soon he will push it away and take his laptop to finish his work and assignments.

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  10. Diary:

    Two kittens lost to me within 3 weeks. First was the black one. I always wanted a black cat then this one was lost to me. Its eyes are my favourite. Yesterday I cried at work twice and when I went back home, the memories of knowing as soon as I opened the room door to feed and spend time with the kitten rushed back.

    I cried again. 

    I got intoxicated but it doesn`t work of course. I asked my friend, "What did I do wrong? What is wrong with me?" 

    Now sober, I am crying and don`t think I will stop. Loving a kitten that I only spend 2 weeks with, leaving my unblemished skin, that I worked hard to do so because I want to erase the scars my family did on me with scratches. Even when it was too rough playing because it wasn`t guided properly yet (Its hyper active)...all I could think of was actually buying body scrubs to help the scars and adjust my clothings to hide some of them. 

    I love it so much. I miss its beautiful eyes.
     

  11. Diary:

    Lights off, 

    Its 2am, silence falls in like a cold misty blanket. The only sound was the low spin of fan blades, fluttering of curtains and soft clinking of empty wire hangers due to breezy night wind. The sky isn't completely dark, this is the city after all with outside brighter than his room. The kitten was asleep. The little thìng was so adorable and cuddly. 

    The wind kiss cold skin like a lost frost lover. Tea candles scatter on the short book cabinet, along side it there was an essential oil burning. Bergamot, gin and orange blossom. Soft, wine red bathrobe loosely drape over freshly showered figure. 

    A rolled joint stuck between the pointer and ring finger. His head felt light but he isnt addicted. He wish he can go on and said he tried all sorts of drugs to challenge his addiction, but he cant even get addicted to the fact that he isnt addicted. 

    Some said drugs are better than sex then they lied. For him nothing was better than the act of being pleasure and giving it. The mix of pain and pleasure sent his already broken mind into ecstasy.

    And it scared him. He scared of the act, how senseless it made him. But here he is, crushing it down easily with his control, endless practice and a shudder. 

    Deep down he knows he can't hold it forever. He already driven drunk with pleasure with his current lover and it scares him. The man even give him free the choice to pursuit it or choose celibate if he wanted to. It wasn't without a price, "You can just not have it if you wanted to. You can remain unchanged if you are content with where you currently are"

    And he sighed. He knew he was damned, he knew he already healed when his heart spoke for him loud and clear.

    Change. Like a snake shedding its skin.

    He had a thirst for victory even beaten. By his family, by himself, by his surroundings and he still wanted to win. 

    Damn his lover for being fucking reasonable and so good at sex. Must he be?

  12. SilverArdour

    Chapter 1

    I feel guilty for reading this immediately instead of updating anything *coughed* I like the beginning. I like the emotional pain inflicted first and I love scenes where people cope with their feelings either alone or together. Detached or emotional. As I said...Suffering is a tongue melting dessert and nothing is sweeter than that. Even pure joy is bore and compares nothing to its ability in making happy ending more lovely. Christmas countdown!
  13. Excerpt: Arden, The Devourer

     

    "The fog in my mind is barely lifted. Is this exhaustion or a drugged state?" He questioned himself, slender digits massage his own head, running them through his red hair. His hair and eyes glowed in the dimly lit room like anemone and coral in deep sea. 

    The drug clouded his mind or did his mind taint how he experience it? 

    'Muddled.' He thought, 'Mangled. My mind is mangled like the body of my son." he continued and waited for the pain to come. But pain and grieve sits in the distant corner of his mind like watching the pain of a stranger. Numb. Nothing. His grieve is bleak and he was too numb to care with no purpose.

    His own child. Defiled, mangled, tortured and murdered by the actions of his own lover.

    The god thought he was a lowly creation, a shiny new toy. He will pluck those Asteris one by one and strangle their celestial neck. 

    In echo of his emotions. The daylight skies outside turn dark, thunder and lightning clash.


  14. 1. I want to continue reading my stories after a month of isolations and recuperating from all the things that happened to me within the last 10 month. I haven`t touch a book for a month. 
    2. I have two chapters lined up for, "Of Ancient Earth"
    3. I want my Christmas and Christmas gifts even if I live in a tropical god forsaken country. 

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