| demonic literature |
[Jul. 27th, 2007|10:41 pm]
Inner thoughts of the morbid
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| [ | How I feel |
| |  sadistic | ] |
I was wondering if anyone ever read demonic stuff. I've read demonic stuff and it made me leave my happy self and go into a darker world. It was a nightmare but it was what I wanted. I want to go back there. Any ideas on how to do that? can I read something that will make me go there? It's been so long that I've forgotten a lot.
I don't know. I'm lost. I want to see some of my own blood. I want to go back to seeing myself in pain. reply if you want to help. thanks!
Peggy |
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| I am From |
[May. 31st, 2006|09:34 pm]
Inner thoughts of the morbid
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| [ | Current Location |
| | UNLV Library | ] |
| [ | How I feel |
| |  content | ] |
| [ | The Influence |
| | May it Be - Enya | ] |
I am From,
by Jay Yoon
I am from the beginning, when frankincense filled marble chambers
And signified the rising prayer
I am from and of the Mass, remembered in the Sanctus and Benedictus
And brought forth the cleansing of man
I am from the top of the belfry, sounded during the sacrifice
And wept for the blessed Agnus Dei
I am of the broken bread, the sacred wine
And it is of He, that I am from |
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| Confessions of a Rose |
[Jun. 2nd, 2005|01:21 pm]
Inner thoughts of the morbid
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| [ | The Influence |
| | We Belong Together - Mariah Carey | ] |
| [ | How I feel |
| |  apathetic | ] |
Writing of poetry hasn't happened for a while. It's something I lost, perhaps my muse is no longer with me in that field. But I did manage to squeeze something out today.
Confessions of a Rose
By... Jay Yoon
The Rose is Silent
The Rose is Silent
With the rising of the Sun
With the dawning of the Dusk
The Rose is Silent
Through the passes of Time
Through the turning of the World
The Rose is Silent
In the soil of the dead Man
In the distortion of the Vase
The Rose is Silent
Brittle and Crushed
Withered and Faded
The Rose is Silent |
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| Indelible Footprint |
[Jan. 25th, 2005|12:50 am]
Inner thoughts of the morbid
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| [ | The Influence |
| | Green Day - Time of Your Life | ] |
| [ | How I feel |
| | blank | ] |
I wrote this a while back... please don't take my work and claim it for yours, thats just pathetic cause you can do sooo much better in stealing *better* ones.
This one was actually used as a college essay... it isn't at all great so don't expect much. The less you expect the more you can take out of it. Lol
Indelible Footprint
By. Jay Yoon
A sip of coffee taken, nothing excessive lest the liquid burns my tongue. The heat and taste steal the numbness away as if the winter cold in New York City was but an afterthought. Safe inside the Starbucks on 8th and 43 street, I begin to unwind the black scarf coiled around my neck and unbutton the first few of my thick wool duster. Out there where the fingertips and earlobes are attacked by frostbite, the additional protection seemed all too necessary. Now, in the warmth of the café where the fragrance of coffee wafts throughout the store, it seems but a burden.
The wrist watch says it’s 6 PM but already the city’s lights are starting to come on and nature’s shade over the brimming sun has begun to take its hold. The horribly congested streets of New York City only seem to grow worse and the sounds of car horns no longer seem so foreign to my ears. From the cushioned chair I sit in, with knees drawn up to my chest, a captivating view of the street snares my attention. New Yorkers walking to the beat of their own drum pass by the window in a brisk manner, and already now I’ve seen four shopping bags with bold labels, not surprising carried by various women who shamelessly advertise the place in which they’ve shopped.
In the corner of my vision I can see a man in his late forties pushing a cart of newspapers. There’s a part of me that knows for a fact that his fingers would be calloused and numb; that his feet and back are strained from carting around the weight.
Not too far away from the man is a couple, arms wrapped around each other tightly as if their very existence depended on it; across the street a lady stands in front of the shoe shop, longingly looking at the red pumps on display. They all have lives with stories to tell. There’s a part of me that wonders where all these people are going, what kind of lives they lead, the sorrows they face, the joyous climaxes they celebrate.
I leave the Starbucks that day with a cappuccino in one hand and invaluable inspiration in the other. That day, the path I take is a bit clearer, and even in the snow amongst the trail of countless others, as I look carefully, my footsteps are clearly visible. |
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| Please Help Out! |
[Jan. 9th, 2005|12:44 am]
Inner thoughts of the morbid
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| [ | The Influence |
| | Bring Me To Life - Evanescence | ] |
| [ | How I feel |
| |  awake | ] |
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| Hello everyone... |
[Oct. 11th, 2004|11:16 pm]
Inner thoughts of the morbid
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| [ | How I feel |
| | wistful | ] |
| [ | The Influence |
| | Rectifier-Ra | ] |
It's late, I'm new, and I'm gonna vent. (Isn't that the point?)
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
How dare you judge my love?
My sweetest addiction
An Obsession of the highest order
An eternal craving that will never be satisfied
We fill ourselves up and up again
To what end?
We lie and lie and lie to ourselves
Cynical brains scream at weeping hearts to grow up
But we cling to our dreams
Like scared children
For is that not what we are?
Children of dreams who have forgotten how to live
We plunge ourselves deeper and deeper
And the few breathes we take
Are misery
Our pretend worlds are paradise and bliss
We are the lords
We are the masters
We are the populars
We are the beloved
We are the redeemed sinners
We are the kind saints
We are the forgivers
We are the forgiven
We are everything we desire secretly to be
But can never achieve
Your reality is bored and frustrated
Longing to be set free once more
Fill me up again with your sweet lies
Fill me up with my dreams
We long to lose ourselves in the fantasies of others
But why?
It's a vicious cycle
We pour lies inside to the brim
And then reality snaps us back again
And we start over again to fill
A deeper void
We hate ourselves
But as we curse our weaknesses to ears that can not listen
We pull the chains even tighter.
Freedom from this love is our misery
Our addiction is our pain
I refuse to live in reality
Let me live in my dreams, damn you all |
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| I love you so much April |
[Oct. 4th, 2004|09:14 pm]
Inner thoughts of the morbid
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Sometimes I wish you could see inside. To see how I really feel. So you can truly know. So you can truly love me or truly hate me. I wish sometimes I could get through to you. You can ask the others. They all know, but most of all I know. I try to tell you, and all I get back is an empty response. Believe me I wish you could know. And I try. I've cried for you. This can become too much at times. There is no one else and there never will be. These words I speak are true. April you are my one true love. You will always be my heart. I know that you'll always be there for me. How can you think that I think otherwise. I love you so much. At times I'm speechless. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 27th, 2004|03:56 pm]
Inner thoughts of the morbid
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<lj-cut text="some stupid shit..."> on the inside I scream,
but no one hears those words
on the outside I'm quiet,
to try and hide the hurt.
now it's not only mental,
it's becoming too much,
leaking to physical...
and I can't stop the blood.
I want the world gone gray,
sit in the darkness,
just to hear myself pray,
into the nothingness.
I can't hold on, anymore,
I just want to let go,
not to care anymore,
I don't even want to know.
fuck all your ethics,
you don't see these tears,
all you've seen is pathetic,
and you've sent me nothing but sneers.
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| Demon's Playground |
[Sep. 26th, 2004|01:44 am]
Inner thoughts of the morbid
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| [ | The Influence |
| | crimson sin | ] |
| [ | How I feel |
| | insane | ] |
This blade to your throat..
As I slice through the skin..
Each drop of crimson...
I love this sin..
They whipser in my ears..
AS you sware I'm a whore..
I'll tell you one more time..
I'm not your doll anymore..
I'll carve you out of my memory..
And listen to you scream..
Cause what they keep telling me..
You don't mean a fucking thing..
You try to be so beautiful..
When your just a stupid cunt..
You ravel in the glory..
Of something that you lost...
Anger exoresses itself in sveral forms..this isn't my best..but its simply how I feel >:[] |
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| De Ce Cycle Eternel |
[Sep. 13th, 2004|11:13 pm]
Inner thoughts of the morbid
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| [ | The Influence |
| | Christina Aguilera - I'm Okay | ] |
| [ | How I feel |
| |  indescribable | ] |
De Ce Cycle Eternel
By... Jay Yoon
She stood on the very top
The very top of an ancient Celtic castle
A castle, lost in its former glory, worn out by war
Silver dusted amysthest orbs watched
Watched the on going battle in the heavens...
In the sky the dark void was washing
Washing slowly over the dark bleeding dusk
Patches of red, falling to the black aybss
Small citadels of red left fighting
Fighting for the right to live
The female chuckled
The irony
Irony of destiny
The void would win the long battle
To lose a long battle to the light
The female whispered
"De ce cycle eternel" |
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