highSticks

I live in Noitaly. It is a country but it is no Italy. My neighbor is a painter currently working on a masterpiece. He keeps drawing on the same canvas over and over again, until it is hard to tell, what it even is that he is trying to paint. He says it is a part of his creative process and spends the whole day working and swearing loudly. My other neighbor is a former man who is by now mostly a woman. Most of his weight consists of female bodies fused together in a one big mass formed around his original male body. He spends too much time around women and every few hours a new one comes flying through the window and sticks to him until she becomes conjoined too. Now he is almost too b

I open up my mind and find a door I've never seen before,

now I'm running to it, stumbling through it I fall into the corridor

of broken thoughts, dismembered dreams and a liver turned to rags.

Tell me; If I were to stay till the light of day how long would it last?

​

Maybe few days, few decades? I'll wait right here for centuries

for I'm the sigh of the broken hearts you can still hear in the cemeteries.

There's no remedy, once you lost your peace you will wander forever.

Then all that's left is a torn pocket with a hope it all gets better.

----------- H.

​

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If there is a world where days of the week are human, Monday is an evil man. Bad to the bone. But at least he doesn’t hide it. You can notice it straight away. Right of the bat, you know what you are dealing with. Monday has issues and bullies others to compensate. Of course, that’s not the way he would describe it. In his world, he is the one who runs this show. Surrounded by timid sheep that can’t stand up for themselves. That is probably the most tragic part of his story. In his world, he is the hero.

Poor Tuesday really got the short end of the stick. I like to think Monday and Tuesday are married. When they first met, Monday was a hardworking young gentleman with a head full of dreams.

I just finished the book and Im in awe at how amazingly written it is. Not only does the reader get to know a unique yet familiar main character with all the right quirks a teenage boy usually has, but all the supporting characters that Holden is forced to interact with are designed to make his personality even more vibrant and believable.

Whether that be Mr. Spencer, Phoebe, Sally Hayes or Mr. Antolini, they all highlight a different part and a different struggle within the mind of the protagonist.

I never thought I would be so consumed by a book with virtually no story, but in my opinion the story gets traded for one of the most complete, detailed and engaging portrayals of any characte

Platform(s): PC Browser

Genre: Racing game with space ships (they weren't in space tho, it was kinda like pod racing in starwars)

Estimated year of release: 2005-2010

Graphics/art style: 2d animated

Notable characters: There weren't any characters I remember, but I just know that each of the playable racers belonged to a different faction and the factions had differently shaped ships.

Notable gameplay mechanics: I feel like you were racing in a sort of maze that had different obstacles and closing doors that you had to dodge, but that description might not be 100% accurate

Other details: This used to be one of my favorite games back in the day when I used t

Cut me,

I don't bleed.

I just scatter sawdust

over your feet.

​

Hear it?

In my chest.

Butterflies and birds...

Who would've guessed?

​

I become what I feel,

so I would feel better.

But all that I am,

is a poem in a love letter.

​

I become what I feared,

a text full of empty words.

But somehow these words are

me to the core.

-------- H.

​

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Any and

I have writer's block,

need to find a new outlet.

Drill holes in my skull.

------ H.

​

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His head was filled with incessant buzzing. Unrelenting, it felt like drilling holes into his brain.

His body was full of fire ants. They were crawling up and down his spine looking for prey.

But strangely enough, if you were to look deep inside his soul, you would find it calm. Like a midnight pond reflecting the moon. Not a wave, not a ripple.

He knew what he was about to do and he was at peace with it.

He was making his way down an unfamiliar road. Road he has never seen before, but a road that was waiting for him this entire time.

The lengths we go to for love.

...

He had no idea his life would come to this.

But still, when he saw her for the first time, he knew. If you would l

I found them in a ditch on my way home. They were crying. Small, unsightly cluster of dirt and mouths waiting to be fed. I spent a long time looking around. I thought about it, then I decided to take them under my wings. I brought them home.

I put a blanket in the corner of the room. It was a blanket my mother used to wrap me in when I was ill. I left them there to rest and I fed them warm milk every now and again. They calmed down and went quiet. For a moment I thought being a good person was easy.

---

They woke me up in the middle of the night. They were crying, just like when I found them. I got up and warmed up some milk. I poured some carefully into their mouths, drop by drop, but i

“So we made it.”

“Hmmm.”

“Quite the view from here, huh?”

All they could see from their rocky throne was an endless sea of clouds rippled by the wind. Above them was the prefectly unifrom blue sky crowned by the sun and when they lifted their heads they would’ve sworn they looked God in the eye.

“Beautiful.”

“Yeah. What now?”

“I don’t know. Let’s take a picture.”

“Let’s do it.”

They pulled a small camera from one of the rucksacks and they took a few pictures of themselves on the peak of the mountain.

“They will love these back home. Wanna see?”

“Sure.”

“So what do you say?”

“Nice. You’ve got a good camera.”

After that they both sat down on a big rock and took in the view for a b

It is calm. Nothing else.

She’s alone. Castaway on a remote island in the middle of the ocean in the middle of the world in the middle of the universe. Everything is so far away. Everything is being cradled on the waves all around her. She can’t look away. But she is not scared, no. Because all the waves break and collapse before they can touch her shores. She is at peace, watching from a safe distance.

But sometimes. Sometimes she hears distant echoes, echoes on the wind and on the waves that pierce through her skull directly into her thoughts. Terrible, terrible sounds. Screeching of the past.

*“It’s a completely safe and routine procedure, completely and wholly, yes. Very simple too a