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The Long Wait For SeptemberThe Long Wait For September
-Chapter One: Mabel-
The hand of the goddess moved the black mouse across the wooden desk. The cursor slowly found the tiny icon with the little face. Left-click. She waited as the opening screens came up.
Finally, the screen with the big green arrow. The goddess clicked the arrow, to begin work at giving her newest creation a cybernetic semblance of life.
The first to appear was a girl. She was already somewhat pretty with long wavy brown hair. A quick zoom revealed that her eyes were also brown.
After some consideration, it was decided that her features were fine as they were.
The clothes, however, were another matter. After all, black mesh stockings were not suitable on someone wearing a cowboy hat. The pink, white and black plaid skirt and leather vest would also have to go.
After a moment, the goddess selected a pair of faded jeans, cowboy boots and a brown t-shirt.
Another zoom and the goddess looked into the brown eyes of her creation.
The Genius's SecretMax Headroom:
The Genius’s Secret
Bryce was taking a rare break in his studio. The smallest TV set on his desk was broadcasting that night’s episode of Network 23’s soap opera Hattie and Soul.
It was about a month since Edison Carter had done the report on Ovu-Vat and their artificial wombs called GroBags.
Edison Carter. The man had somehow managed to find his way into Bryce’s heart. This was not an easy thing to accomplish. Bryce had always been very cold when it came to personal relationships; preferring to keep everything on a professional level. It was, after all, better for concentration.
Bryce tried to take his mind off Edison by focusing temporarily on the soap opera that was on the screen. Hattie, the shows titular character, and her paramour Richard, were expecting their first child. She was showing, as women in her condition called it, her belly swollen with the child she carried. Sitting around her in a colorfully decorated room, her
Max Headroom - CybersoulMax Headroom: Cybersoul
-Chapter One: Cybersoul -
Network 23 operated under a cloud of grief these days.
The ratings had been low for about a month. But this was an effect rather than a cause. The cause had been the untimely death of the network’s youngest employee, Bryce Lynch.
It had happened so quickly that even those who knew about it from the beginning hadn’t been able to properly deal with it.
It affected Edison’s work greatly. The ace reporter had had to get used to the idea of finding many of the answers he’d always turned to Bryce for by himself.
It was impossible for Edison to not think of Bryce during work. They’d been an inseparable team; Edison, Theora, and Bryce. One could’ve almost called them family.
Edison hated the idea that he was not allowed to confront Dr. Buxton directly. The man had killed Bryce, after all. And Edison wanted revenge so badly he could taste it.
Cheviot had refused his request, however. Network 23’s chairma
Can Your Parents Relate?You, the girl in the corner of your bedroom
That with each passing year since birth
Has had her confidence sold to those that stare
For so much less than it is worth
When it should be a priceless commodity
Especially to a doting dad
Is he not supposed to give to his child
All the things that he never had?
You, the girl in the corner of the classroom
That has forgotten how to smile
Are you tired of being told it’s just a phase
And you’ll snap out of it in a while?
It should be obvious that you are struggling
Especially to a loving mum
As she's already lived through those tearful days
That for you have yet to come
You, the girl hiding in the shadow you cast
Please accept your parent’s flaws
No matter what success or failure you taste
Do not let them be the cause
They created a life in love or in lust
Now nurturing has turned to neglect
A bird feeds her young till the day they can fly
So maybe now you should leave the nest
Beware Of The Bad BoySo he touches you in all of the right places
But with a clenched fist and not a gentle hand
By ‘right places’ I mean those easily hidden
By the latest expensive designer brand
Which he buys you to either keep your silence
Or to beg and to plead for your forgiveness
Is this where the attraction of a bad boy lies?
Please explain where is the excitement in this?
So he kisses you with a so-called passion
His hands round your neck steal a two letter word
It seems that he cannot feel satisfaction
Unless you show him signs that his dominance hurts
Which he tightens each time to keep your silence
Or maybe he just enjoys hearing you moan
Is this the deed of some stalker, some stranger?
No, this is your husband and this is your home
So he lays you out on the living room floor
I wonder what will fall down to the carpet first
The drops of blood from between your legs
Or the tears flowing between his regretful words
Which he whispers in your ear as you lay silent
It’s safe to say
Mana EllathaΜάνα Ελλάδα
Δε χωράω στα δεσμά σας,
Δε με τρομάζει η φωτιά σας,
Δε με γελά η πονηριά σας,
Κι ούτε με σκιάζουν τα σκυλιά σας!
Μόνο με σκιάζουν τα παιδιά μου
που δεν τα θρέφει η αγκαλιά μου,
Μόνο με σκιάζουν
Schrodinger's CatAm I alive? Or am I dead?
Have I just purred? Or have I bled?
Being locked in that dreadful box,
I have become a paradox.
A flask of poison on the floor,
A radioactive source in store,
And a hammer to judge my fate -
Try and define my doubtful state -
Am I alive? Or am I dead?
Have I just purred? Or have I bled?
Where are you? (poem)<3
Just us two,
Walking beyond the avenue,
Admiring the beautiful nature view,
Spending a moment only with you,
Is like.. a dream come true,
You're a friend worth holding onto,
O but there's one question;
Where are you?
Introspection in a Pale Moon LightAm I a dream of the universe?
A microcosm of the cosmos
A transient flash of memory
Soon forgotten for eternity
Am I a conscious collection of atoms?
Converging together at random
An essence in constant motion
Like a ripple upon the ocean
We are all made of star dust
Born when giant gas clouds combust
In a symphony of the spheres
Free from anxiety and of fears
We are never ending energy
Dancing across the galaxy
From Andromeda to the Milky Way
Like a ballerina in a ballet
BirdsThe birds are flaunting their wings by me
Knowing I can't fly.
What a joyful, blissful gift it is
To soar in the sky –
Racing softly through the winds
Up to touch the clouds.
That's the place to look for peace,
More is to be found.
The birds keep piercing through the morning streets
Free of people's vibes.
Reveling in the river's peaceful breeze
I'm only standing by.
Chirping merrily above
They must see best of life,
Making me, the wingless one,
Be glad that I'm alive.
The birds will always frisk across this scene,
Even when I die.
And ungodly hour colors bring
Enlightening sense of life.
No matter what may be,
Birds will be around.
Long as they are here to sing,
You'll be safe and sound.
Sleepy Summer EveningLate swallows swoop and pipistrelles skitter
To and fro across the house, skimming the eaves.
Against a soft darkening sky streaked with red
Gulls return to the bosom of mother sea.
The smell of grass rises sweet on the damp air.
While daisies quietly close their eyes in sleep
The blackbird sweetly sings a lullaby
And I to bed until his reveille.
I Shall Be A Reaper One DayI Shall Be A Reaper One Day
by Axel Ingleson
Ever since I was a child
Death seemed natural to me
I wasn't morbid
Of what eventually must be
It's not just that, though
Death always walked quite near
It never bothered
And never caused me fear.
Not suicidal am I
It just is not my style
Just friend of Death
I've been for quite some while
Movies, TV, songs, and more
Have whispered what's to be
I think of my
Future death scythe
And what it's form will be.
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