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Look Mom, No HandsAccording to the speedometer, i'm skirting eighty. According to the sign, that's twenty miles per hour too fast. Someone somewhere is telling me I should be worried, that I should maybe slow down. What they don't know is that I've been deaf for a year. An entire year embellished with glorious silence; this will teach you something.Look Mom, No Hands
They say that after losing one of your major senses, the remaining others are somehow enhanced. Ask any blind person, and he'll go off about how his hearing is just fucking incredible and oh my god, can you hear that mouse rustling in the grass a mile away. He'll smile and treat
by ~gout-acquis
Fail MeSTOP BEGGING.Fail Me
I will not leave.
STOP KNOCKING.
I am not home.
What are you, that your persistence is so utterly undying? Have you no need for sleep, for food? Do your eyes not ache as you perch on my doorstep, as you plaster yourself against my windows? Does your mouth not yearn for fulfillment as you, on yet another indistinguishable day, whisper treachery into every crevice, every crack, pouring the foulest words into my ears and cursing me with the most malignant of desires? Watching, watching, always watching; always, always whispering, whispering always.
But I don't want yo
by ~gout-acquis
An Attention to DetailJust keep your eyes open, okay? Look, just-- when you're walking around in your expensive clothing, whistling some improvised tune like you've always done (like you'll always do) and killing people with your eyes, I want you to pay attention to flat surfaces. I'm not talking prepubescent girls here; walls, doors, pillars, whatever. I spent a lot of time on those damned posters (hours on PrintMaster) and I need fucking exposure; you've been missing for too long. Call the number written in small font below the picture; feed me your voice one more time.An Attention to Detail
Since you left, i've been thinking more and more. I can't help it, I
by ~gout-acquis
That Sort of WhiteIt's so fucking cold.That Sort of White
You don't hear me whispering? Don't worry, I don't even fucking know you. You don't need to hear this.
Light is cheap. Light is ugly. I killed Light, and bathed in its blood. Now when I look down at myself, i'm blinded. I do it every time anyway. I'm not even sure if I have eyes anymore, to tell you the truth. What do I look like? But you can't really see.
I came here after I killed Light; I figured this was the next logical step. I figured you could help. I remember how it went, how I banged on the door until my hands ached, until my arms tore themselves open and replaced th
by ~gout-acquis
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Devious Info
- Favourite genre of music: Electronica, Indie, Industrial, Metal
- Favourite artist: Nature
- Favourite poet or writer: Danielewski, Fante, Hamsun, Nabokav, Palahniuck, Sartre
- Personal Quote: -0.05
- Tools of the Trade: Hands.
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thanks again.
never read any of the other authors though.
ill have to check them out.
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