Submissions by Chandler (Gleana Snipoms)

I laugh at the words across the screen.
You write to me the things about your simple day,
How the people you missed have once more came into your vision.
Scroll down the page, looking into tidbits of others lives,
Almost hearing their exasperated sighs, their anger or happiness.
Decidedly I choose to add my input, my views on their activity.
Notifications.
Three notifications.
Conversations with three different people,
Oh, I never knew I was a multitask-er!
Is that a like?
Someone actually DOES listen to me, actually READS my status. ...

The way you walk is like a rhythmic melody to my eyes, the way you speak flows from your red-stained lips like an evergreen stream of desires; your beautiful glowing iris' almost sucking me into their eternally entrapping gaze; never to release me....
The skin that surrounds your delicate frame is only highlighted by the glow of artificial lighting in this dim basement of dreams; pure white skin fascinating me to the point of rapture.
There is not one imperfection on your body, not one; even the slightest of scars are not visible or have been cured by some magical force or your...

Amazing how the human mind can turn itself against us, feeding us lies and false perceptions.

How does it protect when all it does is cover the swirling mass that writhe underneath it, like shoving the old toys under the bed before the Mother comes in to sweep them all out?

The feelings of being trapped and humiliated by my alter subconscious threatens to tear my rationality in two, to force me to give in to it's threatening growls of discontentment, it wills for the blood of my friends and enemies that I never see.

It's sickening to feel the need to hurt someone...

If there was anything more dangerous than the uncertainty of your goals, it would be where you were headed in the painful long -run.

The strange threads of time can become undone or lost into the deepest oblivion of the subconscious, never willing to resurface themselves as to spare the beholder a less tragic fate, to press on with daily activities and recreational things, events that would steer them into the right direction instead of wrong; constant reminder that they are good and willing to pursue life not as a goal, but a dream.

When those threads begin to sew their...