Six Weeks and an EternityHe’s going to finish his degree. In six weeks, he’s going to have his final recital and jury. No more touchy Yamaha in a tiny practice room, no more living off Mr Noodle and too-little sleep. In six weeks, he’s not going to be Malorie-Miles’-promising-student. In six weeks, he’s going to be Arthur-Fucking-Goldberg-Like-The-Variations, capitals and profanity present and necessary. Because in six weeks he’s going to perform in front of half the conservatorium. In six weeks, he’s going to be handed offers left and right. He’s going to hammer Mendelssohn, nail Haydn, flawlessly execute Schubert, turn Rachmaninoff from beautiful sound to liquid gold for the ears and effortlessly make Mozart something worth playing. Six weeks.
Mozart hadn’t been his idea, of course. It had been Mal’s.
“Arthur, mon beau, you will play Mozart for your recital.” He recalls the conversation clearly.
“Mal, I’m not going to
The BreadmakerEdith knelt before the bread ovens, pushing limp, sweat-soaked hair back from her forehead to better look through the tiny window at the tiger loaves cracking in the heat. She heard Flavia scolding another cook for burning a loaf, her usually kind voice cracking out under the stress of the incoming orders. Every time the far steel door opened to release the loaves, Edith caught the sound of loud voices and something too happy to exist in her world.
France was celebrating. What, Edith knew not, but that they were was obvious. She imagined the wine connoisseurs were having and even worse time of it. She’d worked in (been sold into) the wine trade once, but they soon found her to be all but useless as a connoisseur, as unable to read the swirling script on the bottles as she was to read the unadorned black letters Flavia read out to the cooks.
The loaves were done. Smoothly, Edit pulled open the oven, feeling the hairs on her arms all but curl from the heat before she managed to rem
The Penrose Girl and the Caspian SeaThe fire licks at her body and he wants to scream, because she can’t. Not anymore. His hands are held loosely in his pockets, one turning a red poker chip over and over. She’d been a gambler, he remembers. Of course he remembers. It was how they’d met. She was a terrible gambler. She made a living from spinning lies, but couldn’t hold a poker face for shit.
A tiny, fond smile pulls at a corner of his mouth as the rest of his face is swallowed with melancholy. His Penrose Girl.
She’d never liked fire, but cremation had been her idea. She loved he sea, but was scared of the creatures in it. A woman of paradoxes. He loves her for it.
A switch is flicked and the flames die away. She is gone. Nothing but ash is left. He wonders numbly how it can happen like that. She was there, but now she’s not. It’s a sudden thing and it makes his old hands tremble as they clutch his walking stick.
Later, when standing on the beach near their home, he wonders when
They Have to be WrongAudio: http://pmcde7.tumblr.com/post/100300139659/they-have-to-be-wrong-by-paulette-mcde-music
They Have to be Wrong
By Paulette McDe
Music: Olafur Arnalds - 3055
Inspired by: Shane Koyczan’s ‘To This Day’
Do you ever take a moment and just
To hear the air flowing smoothly down your throat, feel the quickening of your heart as you exhale. Inhale. Exhale. And each breath is a moment to be proud of. A success. Because you did it. You beat them again, proved them wrong. Everyone who ever cut you down or made you hurt. Made you cry. Made you bleed. Made you hate every moment that beautiful muscle beating in your chest continued to carry on, seemingly unhearing of their cruel words. But it hears. Of course it does.
It hears and feels a thousand tiny cuts break across its walls, each insult sinking deeper, wearing down the defences and it knows it’s only a matter of time before they cut through. Before the hairline fr
EnigmaThe mathematician breathed. He wouldn’t have called a deep breath, because it wasn’t one. But he made a conscious effort to draw the air into his lungs, imagining it swirling, drifting across his bronchioles before he let it flood out, releasing it back to the world. Why? Because he was human. He was flesh and blood and bone. He wasn’t extremely strong, though his was adequately fit. He was intelligent – he had to be, for his profession. But he was still human. Just human. Why should he be cursed to carry every drifting life in this damned war? Why should one man be burdened with saving them? He was only human. But he was getting ahead of himself. The politician sitting sternly across the large, wooden desk from him hadn’t posed the question. Or, come to think of it, the subsequent threat. He was sure the two would go hand-in-hand.
“Do you know how many have died because of Enigma, Mr Turing?” He had a cold, closed-off face. He didn’t car
Merlock 2Five o’clock came slowly. John was laying on his side, watching the dots on his digital clock blink at him mockingly for four hours, waiting for his alarm to go off. It was no longer a call to wake him up, so much as a reminder that if he didn’t get ready for the day soon, he wouldn’t be ready for it when it came. Somehow, his meeting with Sherlock had convinced him he wouldn’t dream. As the dots on his digital clock read 4:58am, he wondered if he had been a dream. Because yesterday hadn’t been so terrible. He’d laughed. He’d joked. He’d forgotten, for a second. John regretted leaving his cane down by the jetty. The walk would be painful without it.
4:59am. The dots blinked at him. Coffee and tea. He’d put them in a couple of thermoses, take them down to the jetty. He wondered if Sherlock would turn up. He wondered if Sherlock existed. Maybe he was finally going mad. Though, what caused him to dream him up, he’d
Time for God We are so busy with life , that we can hardly find time for God. But its not the question of finding time for God.
God gives us life for each day. He gives it generously, so that we may live it fruitfully in HIM. And we on our part, hardly spare any time for God.
God gives us a full measure for each day and HE expect us to return it in full( our fruitful work ).And the only way we can do this, is by doing our work in the awareness of HIS presence- by living each moment in God.
This is the duty of each moment - to live in the presence of God, believing that God-is-with-us.
What a Nazi has to say about free speech:icondak-rommel::iconsaysplz:The difference between people on the center/right wing and even far-right (not Neo-Nazis/supremacists etc.) and communists, 'Social Justice Warriors' and generally people on the left (who are actually far-left but don't realize it) is that we actually support free speech immeasurably more than them.
They are hypocrites, for they will not cringe at all when laws that supposedly ban the "glorification of 'Nazism'" (whatever that means) are passed yet who here can claim that they would act in the same way if equivalent laws were passed for Communist/Marxist ideologies? Even a 10yearold with moderate reasoning could figure out that they support censoring their opposition under the pretext of "racism" and whatever yet somehow THEY are supposed to be the advocates of free speech? (Yeah, we all know how the critics of Lenin, Stalin and Mao ended up. Even Trotsky could not escape Stalin's long arm of the world's best ideology).
It's funny how people like myself and
Another great commentSo my friend :icon345rv5: let lose with another epic comment. This was in discussion with myself :iconThe-conquerors:, him, and :icondak-rommel.Read below. You can also find the original discussion in a deviation which I have linked in the description.
:icon345rv5::iconsaysplz:What parallel universe are we living in when Nazis are less bigoted than the SJW's. What the fuck did i just read? Is this really happening ? I honestly don't know whether to laugh at the fact that a Nazi is more rational than a so called leftist or be sad that the left has fallen this much. Party ought to be ashame of himself that he's become worse than the very enemy he's claiming to fight against. Now i honestly feel bad for comparing SJW's to Nazis after seeing people like :icondak-rommel: have shown a different, more rational side to National Socialism which is a million times more reasonable than the SJW Cultural Marxists.
Mind you Party is opposed to Porn( even though he admits to fapping to po
A PeakGoals and dreams can be tricky things, might be I see a mountain I want to climb, might be that I want to stand at its peak and shout my name into the wild, or might be I've already been up to the top, might be that I want to do it again. Might be a lot of things, come to think on it, it might not be a literal mountain, but I'll tell about a time that once was. I was still in my boyhood, still a lad with wide eyes shimmering with wonder, which is not to say I have lost that sense of wonder. No, merely it is lessened by the harsher tones these narrower eyes have seen. But I digress, for as long as I can remember, my family has been taking camping trips to the Mammoth Lakes area, there is a valley just northwest of the ski lodge with excellent campgrounds, where we would stay for a week at a time thrice in a summer if my father's occupation would allow it. Through the years, his efforts brought our family prosperity, and with that came changes to the manner
Hey I know that there is a Greek Zodiac, a Chinese Zodiac, and a (due to the remake of The Thirteen Ghosts) "Black Zodiac". But what if there was a Creepypasta Zodiac? A Pastodiac?
I mean each month (I say month, because it's easier than each year (which is what the Chinese Zodiac does)) will have a different character who would best fit the month or one of the original zodiacs.
For example: The main Zodiac sign for April is Aries, which is the Ram. Now the ram is actually the very first Zodiac to be introduced in Greek cultures (sort of how the Rat is first in Chinese cultures and The First Born Son is first according to Thirteen Ghosts (Remake)). Therefore, who should start out the Pastodiac? Why none other than the one who started it all himself. Slenderman! (Although he might not be a CP). It would be fitting to have him first though!
The main zodiac of May, is Taurus the Bull. Now because of Taurus' closeness to Aries and because of their similarities (rams and bulls
Philosophy What is philosophy?
Is it a lifestyle? Or is it just a part of someone? Why is a certain viewpoint viewed as philosophy? Is philosophy the killer of religions or the reviver?
Philosophy is a part of everyone's lives wether or not one approves of it. Philosophy is one's morality, their opinion of what's good and what's bad.
Philosophy is good, yet philosophy is bad. It is ones philosophy that effects the opinions of others philosophies however.
What is the point in philosophy? Is it to have a meaning in life?