I lay down, and withered gray fingers crawled out of the darkness. "Right on schedule," I whispered.
Little black flowers sprouted along the dead hands. My eyes were heavy.
I was so tired.
The personless fingertips fingerkissed my pale skin and I shivered away from them,
drawing my blue patterned blanket tighter around me as I lay on my unbunked bunk bed.
It was so cold.
The inky sky lingered, sucking away the light of the earth like a parasite.
Ugly stars stared at me, pointing and whispering to each other, "That's her."
It was a long night.
Chased by cruel nightmares and wicked thoughts, never relenting, always waiting for the ne
When the pain overwhelms us, we close our eyes. We close them tight. As if we don't want to see the world anymore, nor anything within it, nor be a part of it anymore. It's like we're children again, playing hide-and-seek, and the moment we close our eyes, we become invisible, intangible nothingness.
Suggestivism
Birth of a New Category or Beginning of the End of Categories?
.techgnotic (https://www.deviantart.com/techgnotic) by techgnotic (https://www.deviantart.com/techgnotic)
Just when you thought there couldn’t possibly be another “ism” on the art world horizon, what with the growing accessibility of all
art technique and technology rendering all the “schools of art” equally available and doable and therefore making impossible the dominance
or even existence of any current art “movement” … comes “suggestivism,” the “ism” best summing up what art is in our lives today, defined
more by what it is not, rather than what
When the pain overwhelms us, we close our eyes. We close them tight. As if we don't want to see the world anymore, nor anything within it, nor be a part of it anymore. It's like we're children again, playing hide-and-seek, and the moment we close our eyes, we become invisible, intangible nothingness.