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
MerlockJohn hissed in pain through clenched teeth as he heaved himself out of the water and onto the rough but pleasantly warm rock, his feet still hanging over the edge, the cool water lapping pleasantly around his calves. He let himself lie back on the sharp, pitted surface of the weather-worn rock, his right hand pressed to his left shoulder, as though hoping to ease some of the pain there. The physiologists said he’d regain full movement if he exercised regularly, but whenever he tried he had to stop from the screaming pain, feeling as though he was being shot all over again.
And so, John lay on a weathered rock halfway out into Poole Harbour, in extreme pain and wondering if he’d be able to make the swim back to Sandbanks, seeing as bloody Brownsea Island wasn’t exactly open to random swimmers. He slowly regained his breath and wondered why he’d stopped thinking about his actions when he got back from Afghanistan. It was a stupid idea, swimming out here, but he co
To A Stranger TRAILEROriginal Fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/225563/chapters/341590
TEXT APPEARS, THEN FADES: ‘Passing stranger, you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking…’
Bloom from black. Front-shot of MARK(1) sitting alone in the hospital waiting-area, facing straight ahead blankly. Clock above him ticks loudly, hollowly. Transition to his left-side portrait (2). Blink.
Shot of whole room, left incline of MARK (3). Turns head slightly to right as door opens and BENJAMIN enters
Late-Night Messages 3(On the subject of our Chemistry EEI)
Matt: I am hammering intro
the rest I need help
and the intro will need bulking (like Kyle)
but I'll do as much as I can tonight
Me: Fuck, you can help me then
That'll be a first hahahaha
Matt: Hey hey, I have helped you in meth
Me: You have! Once! : D
Matt: : D
Anyways I should get back to work. Cya tomorow, slut
Matt: dropkick hahahaha
Me: do good braining
Matt: You're not my real mum
Me: Ily bby have fun at school don't do anything I wouldn't do luv ya kidding eye h8 u ily cya
Matt: We are way too smart
Me: I agree
Matt: You have induravitque virus papillas
I need your help, woman
Me: With what?
Quickly, fag, I'm leaving internet connection soon
You have until the mint in my mouth dies a
PotterLock|Chp 6: Beyond the Veil Cold. Black. The darkness was all around, engulfing him… swallowing him. He ran, because that’s all he knew to do. He could hear it coming, rushing behind him. The slap of feet against black ice, the huff of eager breath. He ran faster, or tried to. The dark was lifting. Was he escaping? Was he getting away? His heart was all but palpitating in his chest and he stumbled over the pile of something left on the road. It was so close. It was behind him. He could feel its clawed hand reaching out, grasping at his robes. Reach out desperate fingers, closing around worn stainless steel, or aluminium, he was never sure. Open the door and spin, slamming it behind. Turn the lock. Keep out the blackness. It won’t work. It never works.
It was still there. Not the dark, no. He was at home. He was safe. But it smelled like death. He called for his mother. His voice shook. It didn’t matter. Because she was on the couch, asleep. But instead of booze, there was blood, leak
The RavenThere’s a raven that flies past every day. It lives in the tree across the road. He knows because sometimes, late at night, when he’s lying still and awake in bed, it flies to his windowsill and raps its beak against the glass, gently. It doesn’t have a nest. It just lives in the tree across the road.
There’s a gun in his drawer. He cleans it every day. He tells himself it’s just old habits, years of military service forged into his subconscious. He doesn’t tell himself that he should no longer have it. He doesn’t tell himself that the nightmares will stop eventually, either.
His therapist says they will. She asks him questions he doesn’t want to answer, but has to. He lies to her, because there’s nothing else to do. She tells him he needs to leave the house more. She says he needs to at least try to adjust to civilian life. He tells her he is trying.
He doesn’t have a job. Not anymore. His only income is his woeful army pensi
The Adventures of Marcus James Watson|PotterLockIn the name of Merlin’s rotten old socks, why was he here? What idiocy had possessed him to think this could, in any way, be a good idea? Marcus felt a light wave of dizziness wash over him, but it was a common, everyday occurrence. He ignored it and pressed a trembling hand to his aching, rushing heart. And yet, against all his better judgment, crossing all his instincts, ignoring the certainty that this is the last time you do something incredibly stupid, Marcus Watson; you’ve gone too far and you’ll pay for it with your life, he kept going. The trail would have been faint and hard to follow, even in daylight. In the middle of the night, there were plenty of roots to trip over, shadows to shift for already-weakened hearts, a carpet of leaves to mislead and sounds everywhere, which just made the skin crawl.
In the distance, he heard the howl of a wolf – natural or otherwise, he had no way of telling – and he nearly collapsed i
What happens after you loose your frontal lobeSO sorry if there is anything wrong in here! Please correct me. This will be taken from google, just because I wanted to know. Actually I never found anything about loosing the lobe completely, but it says something about damage of it.
you can check this guy out, he kinda lost his frontal lobe: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phineas_…
So, in FNAF it's stated that the child from the bite of 87 lost its frontal lobe. As I am from germany, I'll try my best to translate this to you guys
The centre in your brain where your frontal lobe is located makes you control your acts. It's for approval. You need it to approve, analyse and watch the processes in your brain. When you make decisions or calculate things you need your frontal lobe to approve it. Losing one's frontal lobe doesn't mean you go all derpy (sorry if this is offensive) because you don't need to have extreme intelligence loss.
What you can't do properly after loosing your frontal lobe:
The english article said, that you loose you
MasksA feverish conspiracy's mask.
A terrible tyrant's mask.
A mask to all lies.
New PerspectiveLast night I was thinking about language change, my girlfriend's English, and the general sociolinguistic concept of language changing from generation to generation, with not as much change generally happening to an individual speaker's language, but happening instead between generations.
I came to the realization that, for example, American and Australian English are about 10 to 12 (I initially though 8-10 but divergence started before then), generations apart. That makes things seem not as distant in some ways, but also forces you to realize the difference is greater than 3 or 4 lifetimes. Under that analysis, the difference between Australian English and UK English is 9 generations (there actually is a recorded date for when the British government noticed a difference between Australian and UK English; in 1827). The difference between American and Canadian English probably did not realistically start to diverge until 4 or 5 generations ago when the borders became enforced (only prob
Homestarrunner theory: The Minds of the CharactersBefore you read this, let it be known that I've not taken any actual classes for psychiatry and these diagnoses are based purely off of what I've researched on Google. Your input is greatly appreciated.
Also I don't feel like going through all of homestarrunner.com to find every piece of evidence to back up what I'm saying. If you've watched the show enough, you'll know what I'm talking about.
Homestarrunner.com has been a place for corny and humorous cartoons for many years, but is there something else behind the characters? Something darker and less amusing? Forgive my lack of creative typing and I'll do my best to lead you through what I think really lurks in the minds of the characters.
Homestar isn't the smartest cookie, we all know that. He has some difficulty thinking, being smart, and not being stupid.
People with intellectual disability typically exhibit one or more of the following symptoms:
Delays in oral langua
natures novelty roulette i talk to inanimate objects
as the hand is still
like a stone in the mouth.
it goes deeper than an evil
glint in your fathers eye,
you were there as possibility
in the first human,
as a fish,
in the very first single cell
and deeper still.
stardust and void and
i get moments where i'm
glad i'm alive.
not because the days are
particularly special or
but this sudden realization
of how strange and unlikely
it is that i should
that existence should
and you smile at the
the sublime absurdity of
you catch yourself looking
at things realizing how strange
that we exist in this universe,
that books exist, trees, cars,
flowers, people, coffee cups,
toe nail clippers,
atoms, stars, planets.
that there is anything there to
be seen or to see at all.
everything contained in it and
everything existing thing
of which you are one.
do coffee mugs feel this way?
birds? flowers? toe nail
DifferencesAll I'm willing to say right now, is that tolerance is important to co-exist in a world like ours.
And I'm saying this, because homophobia, racism and prejudges separate people and make unnecessary conflicts. And these "small" conflicts can cause a bigger one, and then a bigger one and so on. In some cases, families break their bonds just because one of them is homosexual or because they have a relationship with someone from another country, and another stupid reasons. My point is, if someone, whatever kind of relationship you have with him-her, tells you he-she is homosexual, Do you have to leave him-her alone just because of that?
In my opinion, it's plainly stupid. Why? Because, some days, months, years ago, he-she was homosexual and/or have a difference with you (your sexual orientation doesn't change from day to night. It's something that takes some time to assume and to get an idea of which one you belong to), but didn't told you about it. And you had no problem with hanging out