Jamfalcon wrote:Was just scrolling through Twitter and saw your post there. I honestly thought it was a screenshot from something before I read your tweet. Looks really good!
Deedles wrote:It looks great. Always thought cell-shaded art without lines was nifty.
How can I write about an empty feeling?
When the cups so full it's over flown.
When heart and soul is so unappealing,
That it it makes me sick to my bone.
You watch my smile, not what's behind it,
You look at my eyes, but don't see me.
You don't see my soul, like a bottomless pit,
You only see what you want to see.
You hear my laughter, but not the hollow tone,
You see me living, but not that I'm dead.
You look at me, but don't see I'm a clone,
You think you see, but not inside my head.
Can you hear the empty laughter sounding,
Through my head and through my veins?
Can you hear my heart is pounding,
beating out my aches and pains.
Or do you really just look at me,
And see nothing of what I am?
How is it that I can live and be,
Yet you think I'm an innocent lamb?
Can't you hear the hollow laughter yet,
Ringing through the silent night?
Don't you see, or even sense, the threat?
Don't I give you the smallest fright?
Then darling, I'll do it your way,
And take your naive body and mind.
Now my darling, we will play,
And all because you were blind...
In here, alone, staring at the words I'm writing as I try to understand my own feelings. I feel so empty inside and despite my best efforts I cannot seem to fill that void. Lonely, I feel like I'm constantly standing on the sideline, gazing forward at everyone else, the collective, them.
I leer at them as I fall deeper and deeper into the hole within myself, spiralling into a sense of isolation so strong there is a constant threat of tears breaking through my facade. Am I being dramatic? No doubt. Are these feelings real to me? No doubt. And though I feel them so clearly I am left at a loss as to what to do, looking up towards the exit to this hole I'm in as I try to find the answer, but I'm stumbling over my own feet as I trip through the darkness I'm in. I cannot find an answer, even though I know the feeling I crave. I wish to be a part of something. A part of everyone else. The collective. Them.
But how do I know if I am? Maybe I already am? My mind swirls and drowns in the questions, ponderings and wonderings of my own curiousity and uncertainty; What does it feel like? Could you ever describe it? Am I capable of feeling it?
I'm here, alone, staring at the words I'm writing as I try to understand my own feelings...
The slow beat starts rolling
The rythem becomes alive
The melody's controlling
As the music it arrive
The notes start flowing
As the tune it start to speak
The drums they get going
And the music start to leak
The words of the song they pull me along
You can't catch me while I'm in the song
As my lips they part and my voice hits the key
I'll drown in the sea called a melody
The base holds the pace
The guitar strums the beat
Start dancing in this place
Can only stay on my feet
The piano jams the chords
The trumpet sounds the horn
Song comes from the hordes
And thus music is born!
The words of the song they pull me along
You can't catch me while I'm in the song
As my lips they part and my voice hits the key
I'll drown in the sea called a melody
I'll fall, I'll drown, I'll be pulled in.
I'll jump, I'll sing, I'll do a spin.
I'll strum, I'll jam, I'll keep the beat.
I'll dance, I'll drum, I'll stay on my feet.
The words of the song they pull me along
You can't catch me while I'm in the song
As my lips they part and my voice hits the key
I'll drown in the sea called a melody
I'll drown in the sea called a melody
I'll drown in the sea called a melody
As my lips they part and my voice hits the key
I'll drown, I'll drown, I'll drown...
In the sea called a melody...
There is nothing more horrible than to be alone in a crowd,
Even if you're sitting there, you seem covered by a shroud.
And even though you're speaking they can't hear single a word,
Oh, the kind of loneliness it is when you simply can't be heard.
There is nothing more horrible than to be alone in a group,
You are sitting there among them, but you're still out of the loop.
It's like no-one really sees you, though you're sitting right there,
And though you really try you can't say "Hello, I am here ..."
Oh poor little one, your smile is just a fake,
All you have you try to give, but you never dare to take.
Oh lonely little one, you keep holding in your tears,
Always keeping up the shine, though you face your worst nightmares.
Oh there is nothing more horrible than to be alone in a crew,
Everyone sees everyone, that's everyone but you.
You feel you might as well be dust, or a shadow on the wall,
And can't help but wonder "Why do I even try at all?"
'Cause there is nothing more horrible than to be alone in a crowd,
They're all up in heaven, while you're left down on the ground.
And you look up upon them and stretch your hands towards the light,
but light it fades and goes away and it turns to pitch black night.
Oh poor little one, you don't need very much,
Just a single fleeting glance at you, a smile and just a touch.
Oh lonely little one, the pain inside feels very loud,
For there is nothing more horrible than to be alone in a crowd ...
Nothing more lonesome ... than to be alone in a crowd
nicholasmc1 wrote:...portraits...
fantôme wrote:Is it just my device, or do Garfman's pictures not load?
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