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Hello cold people of the Internet, it is I, the man who is terribly stressed by finals but will finish nevertheless. It's been forever since I updated, and I think it's fitting to let you all know... I wrote my first book! Given it may have been for a class, and the subject matter is hardly what I would have wanted to write about, but I still wrote and published a book and it turned out pretty good! It's all on how the Internet and the digital world is impacting the real world. Not a terrible read if you want to educate yourself a little and hear my opinions on some stuff. 

Anyway, that's all I got for ya today, if you want the .pdf link to the book, let me know! But until next time, I'll see you............................... IN THE FUTURE! :iconisaydanceplz:
  • Mood: Joy
  • Listening to: Skulls of Mystery
  • Reading: My Own Work
  • Watching: Revisions
  • Playing: Finals
  • Eating: Dumplings
  • Drinking: COFFEECOFFEECOFFEECOFFEE
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: ideologically sensitive material)
Take me to the madhouse; I think a screw is loose. Throw me in a jacket that’s warm and constricting. Put me in a cell that’s maddeningly soft and white. Don’t open the door for the bad man inside. He’s patient, and he’s waiting for you.
-- Unknown author
                                                                             •••
Quiet, it’s quiet. Always quiet and filled with whispers. Whispers of what? Whispers of sin, maybe, maybe. Are there even any whispers? Is anyone even there? Of course someone’s there, I’m always being watched. That’s what guards do, right? Employees for the white coats, too white, too white. They’re still watching, still watching, just keeping quiet. They like keeping quiet, hoping I don’t notice they’re still around. But I know they’re still here and they don’t know I know they’re still here. It’s been years probably, hard to tell exactly, but a long time nevertheless. I’m still here, they’re still here and I can wait a little longer before I stretch my legs again.

The walls have started to brown. I don’t know how long it has been since the room was just white. The pads are somehow still intact, save their shape. Each rectangle has slumped under it’s own weight. The room looks like it’s melting around me, falling, falling. I hate the pads; I hate how white this room is. The white coats put me here; they knew I wouldn’t like this, not a bit, not a bit. Brown is a good color. It lets me know time is still ticking. I don’t know how much time, at least the walls are browning, browning. They get weak when they brown. I have to be patient, then I can leave, far away, far away. My jacket hasn’t browned at all. This annoys me a bit, a bit. I hope the jacket will brown soon. My arms are getting restless again. I want to play with the coats, play, play. But my jacket still isn’t browning. Why isn’t it browning?  I need to get through the door. Then the jacket will brown, it will brown and fall off. They did this to me, that’s no fun, no fun at all. I was just trying to play before. I guess my toys were too grown up for my playmate. No, the coats just wanted someone to watch. They’re always so overdressed, with their ties and clipboards and sharp things. They need to learn how to have fun. I can show them soon, very soon, I need to wait. If I wait they’ll come and have some fun with me.

There haven’t been whispers for a while now. Are they not going to come? It’s not very helpful if they just watch. What if they don’t come at all? But they have to come, it’s their job. They were the ones who put me here. They have to open the door eventually. I wonder if my toys are still here? Maybe they threw them away? The coats have always said I should learn to live without them. But my toys always helped me make new friends. Each one screamed with joy each time I showed them my toys. But I’m really starting to wonder where the whispers went. It’s always been quiet here, but this is too much. If there’s nothing there can’t be something. I want it to be loud again, like it was outside. The quiet’s too much, it’s starting to hurt, starting to hurt… I need to make it loud again, like before the door closed. I just need to open my mouth and… and… “EEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Was that too loud? Or maybe it wasn’t loud enough. I don’t know, it’s still quiet past the door. That’s not fair, I shouldn’t have to make all the noise. They should stop being so quiet…

I hear footsteps. Are they finally coming to play with me? Or is someone just passing by? The former would be much more enjoyable. I want to move, I want this jacket off. Why isn’t it browning yet? The latch on my door is opening. There’s a horrible squealing sound, I think it’s the hinges. I don’t know how long it’s been since the door’s been opened. But it’s opening now, and I can hardly stay still. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had a playmate. The door is still opening; I can see a shadow of someone now. Now a hand has peeked around the door. I’m going to stand up now, hopefully the door doesn’t shut again. Now a face is staring at me, and the man (who looks to be about 43 years old and 5’ 4” on a good day), is hesitating. This is good, very good, hesitation is good for me. He’s new I think, that’s why they sent him to be my playmate.

He’s dragged a chair in so he can sit. The man is avoiding the pads, does he hate them too? Maybe he’s fun after all. This is good, very very good. Why is he talking so much? I don’t know what he’s saying, doesn’t he know that? He’s just being loud, maybe he isn’t much fun. But I still want a playmate, so I’ll walk over to him now. Why is he standing up so fast? He probably wants to play. He’s going back to the door, don’t… He’s going to close the door again, not again, not again. I need to scream again, before he shuts the door… “NNNOOOOOOO, NOT AGAIN…!” That just scared him, I think. He just slammed the door, and the lock fell back in place. He wasn’t a very good playmate after all.

I can’t remember how long I’ve been whispering to myself. The jacket still hasn’t browned and I can’t stand anymore. I think I was crying at some point. Or drooling, the coats said that could happen sometimes. My arms are getting tired again, tired, tired. I don’t know why they get tired, I just want to move them. I need to get out so I can play. The coats are no fun, but someone will play with me. Why don’t I believe myself? I don’t know, don’t know. I want to laugh for a while, that should cheer me up. I’ll give the coats a show until they come back. I hope they come back, I need a playmate, need one, need one. I guess for now I’ll just wait. I need time to laugh anyway.

The laughing isn’t fun anymore. I don’t know how long I’ve been laughing. It hurts to open my mouth now, let alone make a sound. I wonder if the coats are coming back again. Did I do something wrong? They said I did before and that was why I’m here now. I don’t really believe them. They put me here and said I was… insane, was it? I don’t think I’m insane. All I want to do is play with someone. That doesn’t sound very insane to me. I’m probably the sane one and THEY’RE insane, all insane, all insane. I was only trying to have fun when they took me. I’m not insane, not insane. It’s not my fault my playmate fell into my toys, not my fault, not my fault. “It wasn’t my fault, IT WASN’T MY FAULT!!!!” Maybe the coats heard that. I hope they did. They need to know it wasn’t my fault. My arms are starting to hurt now. Why are my arms hurting? I wish the jacket would brown so I could move, need to move. I can’t move though, why can’t I move anymore?

It’s been quiet for a while now. I’m only just hearing more people. I don’t know how long it’s been since the last man left. A few coats are entering the room. They’re dressed in white; I don’t like white. One of them is talking to me, but I can’t understand him. I don’t know how long he’s been talking. But the coats have started to drag me somewhere. I’m past the door, but my jacket still isn’t browning. Why isn’t it browning? I’m starting to panic, the coats are talking more and more. I still can’t understand them, why can’t I understand them? It’s probably because they’re crazy and I’m not, that’s it, has to be it. A door just opened in front of me, there are more coats inside. The walls are really white, too white, too white. I’m getting pushed into a chair with straps. I don’t want to sit, I want to move, need to move. They’re forcing me into the chair, someone just strapped something around my head. I can’t move my head anymore. They’re prying my eyelids open, I don’t want that, stop, stop, stop. A coat just sat down in front of me, he has something pointy in his hand. I doubt he’s asking to be my playmate. There’s a pressure behind my eyes, I don’t know how long it’s hurt. The coat in front of me is saying something, why can’t they grasp I don’t understand them? Cracking in my head. Something cracked, and it hurt. Where did everyone go? Did they get scared off? My eye is starting to bleed. It hurts so much. There’s a door in front of me and it’s shut. This door hasn’t browned at all. My jacket still hasn’t browned, why hasn’t it browned? My eye hurts more. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting. My face feels like it’s on fire. Where did the door go…? Did it run off with everyone else? Maybe it was running after the room… Where did the room go again? I don’t know where I am anymore. The chair is still here. Strange, I can’t feel anything… I don’t know how long I’ve been here.
I’d like to remind you that
this poem will be very serious and broody.
There will be line breaks where you least expect
it, to punctuate the importance
of this very serious topic.

Super small words will be given
their
own
lines
for
effect
to add to how broody and deep the writer is.

There will also be a rhyme scheme,
not like the ones you see in current themes,
it’ll be new and original to this very serious,
deep, dark, and peerless poem.

There’ll be a little alliteration too, for drama,
Alongside a circus of squirrely metaphors,
That’ll be accompanied by overly dramatized
And superfluous figurative language, sprinkled over similes.

This poem will be super serious;
the most serious, dark and broody poem ever.
It’ll be blacker than black coffee
and heavy enough to blow minds.
I can’t stress it any more,
this poem will be
super
super
dark.
Also
serious.
This is a general service announcement,
reminding you to stay calm
in the event you ingest pop rocks and soda at the same time.
While the natural reaction is to panic,
instead attempt to pacify the gasses inside you
with old nursery rhymes and passive aggressive sticky notes.

Refrain from moving, the process will accelerate,
weigh yourself down with sandbags and emotional baggage
until you no longer have the urge to run and scream.
Remember to be nice and call everyone helping you by name
even the dark lord Voldemort, who gave you some antacid
and more than a few stories about the “one who got away.”

If symptoms still persist past a few hours
taking after cartoons is a viable option,
just make sure to stick the pin through the bellybutton.
A completed list of symptoms are listed in the nutrition facts
along with the daily recommended dose of each
but we still haven’t gotten around to printing the cure yet.
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: violence/gore)
Take me to the madhouse; I think a screw is loose. Throw me in a jacket that’s warm and constricting. Put me in a cell that’s maddeningly soft and white. Don’t open the door for the bad man inside. He’s patient, and he’s waiting for you.
-- Unknown author
                                                                                         •••
Quiet, it’s quiet. Always quiet filled with whispers. Whispers of what? Whispers of insanity, maybe, maybe. Are there even any whispers? Is anyone even there? Of course someone’s there, there’s always someone watching, waiting. Waiting for what? Waiting for me, maybe, maybe. It’s hard to tell if someone’s waiting for you here. I’m waiting for someone but that someone could be gone by now… no, it’s too obvious, too soon. They’re still watching, still watching, just keeping quiet. Hoping I don’t notice they’re still around. But I know they’re still here and they don’t know I know they’re still here. It’s been a long time, hard to tell exactly, but a long time. I’m still here, they’re still here and I can wait a little longer before I stretch my legs again.
The walls are starting to brown. I don’t know how long it has been since the room was just white. The pads are still intact, though. I despise the pads, and the whiteness of the room. Brown is a good color. It lets me know time is still passing while I’m waiting. My jacket hasn’t browned at all. This annoys me a bit, a bit. I hope the jacket will brown soon. My arms are getting restless again. I need to get through the door. Then the jacket will brown, it will brown and fall off. They are still safe, watching me. Safety is no fun, no fun at all. I should show them why it’s not fun. That’s why I’m waiting. The door will open soon; I’ll have my chance, the only chance. They’re always so overdressed. They need to learn how to have fun. I can show them soon, very soon, I need to wait. If I wait they’ll come and have some fun with me.
                                                                                             •••
There haven’t been whispers for a while now. Do they know I know they’re still here? It’s not very helpful if they know. Now they might not come at all. But they have to come, it’s their job. They were the ones who put me here. They have to open the door eventually. The camera has fallen off at my feet, so they have to check if I’m still here. I wonder if my toys are still here? It’s a question that needs answers soon. But I’m really starting to wonder where the whispers went. It’s always been quiet here, but this is too much. If there’s nothing there can’t be something. I want it to be loud again, like it was outside. The quiet’s too much, it’s starting to hurt, starting to hurt… I need to make it loud again, like before the door closed. I just need to open my mouth and… and… “EEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Was that too loud? Or maybe it wasn’t loud enough. I don’t know, it’s still quiet past the door. That’s not fair, I shouldn’t have to make all the noise. They should stop being so quiet…
I hear footsteps. Are they coming to play with me? Or is someone just passing by? The former would be much more enjoyable. I want to move, I want this jacket off. The latch on my door is opening. There’s a horrible squealing sound, I think it’s the hinges. I don’t know how long it’s been since the door’s been opened. But it’s opening now, and I can stretch my legs finally.
I can’t believe I’m standing again, I don’t know how long it’s been. The door is still opening; I can see a shadow of someone now. Now a hand has peeked around the door. I’m going to start walking towards the door, hopefully it doesn’t shut again. Now a face is staring at me, and the man (who looks to be about 43 years old and 5’ 4” on a good day), is hesitating. This is good, very good, hesitation is good for me. Not so good for him, though. I’ve started running at him now, and he’s fallen on the ground in the hallway. This is good, very very good. He’s not fighting back, he’s just screaming. Too loud, he’s too loud, I need his lips gone. I’m biting his lips now and he’s getting quieter. He’s shoving me off, but I’m going to take some of him with me. His lips are still in my teeth, good, very good. He’s screaming again, swinging a knife around wildly. He looks comical, with his teeth exposed like that. I don’t think he likes what I’ve done for him, though. He just broke part of the jacket, and my arms are starting to move. I need to wiggle, wiggle, that’s it. The jacket’s falling apart, and my hands are free, very good. This man is still screaming, and he looks afraid. I just wanted to play, but he got me all dirty. He needs to be taught a lesson. I think my hands could help some, help just a little.
The dirty man wasn’t very fun, no fun at all. He was too delicate; my hands dented his neck. Now he’s broken, completely broken. I’m sure there’s someone else here to play with. The dirty man was probably watching me. If that’s the case, I need to find my toys, find my toys. If there’re more people to play with, I need something to entertain them with. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve walked down this hall. I do know where my things were last I saw them. I still wonder if they’re even there anymore. They probably are, the other people have been so occupied watching, watching. I don’t know how long I’ve been walking. I am making progress down the hall, that I know. I can see the door that has my things behind it now. It’s browned considerably, and there are a few holes by the handle. I don’t know if this is the same door anymore. But I’ll try it regardless. None of the other doors have browned yet. I don’t know how long this door has been here. At least my toys are here still. Now I can have some fun, so much fun.
                                                                                    •••
It’s been quiet for a while now. I’m only just hearing more people. It’s exciting, and I don’t think they know I’m close by yet. I’m getting myself worked up now, the anticipation is killing me! I feel like I need to sing. Maybe that’ll calm me down. I need a steady hand for these people. Alright, here I go, “Cut and stab, rip and tear, strip the flesh right from their bones, when they run, give them hope, then crush it with their knee caps.” I don’t know how long it’s been since I sang that song. They know I’m here now. A door just shut from around the corner. Are they afraid of me? I just want to play with them. This door isn’t browned, but it’s weak. I barely kicked it and it’s already wide open. I can see the men across the small room, so very small. They’re dressed in white; I don’t like white. I can’t be angry with them. They’re my playmates, so I’ll just bite their tongue and say hello. I’ll whistle my song, maybe this bunch will whistle back. No, they’re not whistling, just screaming again. It’s too loud again, my toys need to help these men along to silence.
None of them are screaming anymore, good, very good. I stopped one from trying to leave. He’s twitching now, and a bunch of red stuff is coming out of his leg and his head. My toys are still really sharp, so so sharp. The men are really quiet now, so I want to make some new toys from them. I’ll take a finger from the man who tried to hit me (he was really mean). I want a tooth from the man who wouldn’t stop screaming during our playdate. I need a toe from the man who tried to run out on all of us. But I can’t leave them sleeping on the floor, cold floor. I’ll give some jackets to them. Then when they wake up they’ll be warm and happy, so so happy. Why are there no jackets in this room? I don’t know how long the jackets have been missing. It’s getting loud again. But there are no other people around. Why is it loud? It’s starting to get dark too. Why is it so dark now? Now there’s a pain behind my eye. I don’t know how long it’s been hurting.
                                                                                       •••
My eye is starting to bleed. My hands are scratching at the arms of a chair. It hurts so much. There’s a door in front of me and it’s shut. This door hasn’t browned at all. A man is standing in front of me wearing white. I hate white. My eye hurts more. The man in white just said something and my eye started hurting less. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting. The man in white is staring into my eye. His noise hurts more than my eye. He just stabbed me with a needle. I’m starting to feel tired. My eye is hurting again. The man in white says something again. I can’t understand him. My face feels like it’s on fire. I hear something metal hitting my eye. This is strange, I can’t feel anything… I don’t know how long I’ve been here.
Hello cold people of the Internet, it is I, the man who is terribly stressed by finals but will finish nevertheless. It's been forever since I updated, and I think it's fitting to let you all know... I wrote my first book! Given it may have been for a class, and the subject matter is hardly what I would have wanted to write about, but I still wrote and published a book and it turned out pretty good! It's all on how the Internet and the digital world is impacting the real world. Not a terrible read if you want to educate yourself a little and hear my opinions on some stuff. 

Anyway, that's all I got for ya today, if you want the .pdf link to the book, let me know! But until next time, I'll see you............................... IN THE FUTURE! :iconisaydanceplz:
  • Mood: Joy
  • Listening to: Skulls of Mystery
  • Reading: My Own Work
  • Watching: Revisions
  • Playing: Finals
  • Eating: Dumplings
  • Drinking: COFFEECOFFEECOFFEECOFFEE

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blooperman12's Profile Picture
blooperman12
.......
Artist | Student | Literature
United States
I've always been able to express myself through writing and am surprisingly good at it. I see writing as something I could make a living doing, so this is just the first step. Gotta start somewhere, right?
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Current Commissions, Requests and Trades

:bulletred:= Haven't started
:bulletyellow:= In progress
:bulletgreen:= Done!

Shoutbox

blooperman12:iconblooperman12:
*stands on your head munching potato*
Thu Feb 13, 2014, 5:20 AM
Noah-x3:iconnoah-x3:
*Stands in corner munching cookie*
Wed Feb 12, 2014, 10:53 PM
blooperman12:iconblooperman12:
THE FACT IS DEBATABLE
Thu Sep 12, 2013, 12:06 PM
Noah-x3:iconnoah-x3:
CAKE IS BETTER.. Wait.
Wed Sep 11, 2013, 4:58 PM
blooperman12:iconblooperman12:
Well I like cake.
Wed Jul 31, 2013, 11:30 PM
Noah-x3:iconnoah-x3:
I like pie
Sat Jul 27, 2013, 6:54 PM
Dogezon:icondogezon:
BOO
Wed May 8, 2013, 2:47 AM
blooperman12:iconblooperman12:
Nomanomanomanom
Fri Apr 26, 2013, 8:10 AM
xXValizanXx
OM NOM NOM :meow:
Tue Apr 16, 2013, 4:38 PM
blooperman12:iconblooperman12:
Blewp
Tue Apr 2, 2013, 9:35 AM
Nobody

Anything you want to see as a future NaPoWriMo poem? 

100%
2 deviants said *comment*

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Comments


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:iconseika:
seika Featured By Owner Oct 26, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
thanks for the llama :3

:iconllama-plz:
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:iconbidevart:
BIdevart Featured By Owner Jun 7, 2014  Professional Digital Artist
Thanks for the watch! ;) :D :) :happybounce:
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:iconblooperman12:
blooperman12 Featured By Owner Jun 7, 2014  Student Writer
You're very welcome!
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:iconwicked-faerie:
Wicked-Faerie Featured By Owner Jun 2, 2014  Student Writer
Thank you for the favorite! ^_^ <3 
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:iconwicked-faerie:
Wicked-Faerie Featured By Owner Jun 1, 2014  Student Writer
Thank you for the favorite! ^_^ <3 
Reply
:iconblooperman12:
blooperman12 Featured By Owner Jun 1, 2014  Student Writer
Thank you for the awesome poetry! :la:
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:iconwicked-faerie:
Wicked-Faerie Featured By Owner Jun 1, 2014  Student Writer
ˆ_^ <3 
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:iconlinnealaloca:
LinneaLaLoca Featured By Owner Jun 1, 2014  Hobbyist
Hello, "......." Handshake
Welcome to
:iconwe-write-to-escape:
We-Write-To-Escape

There is still time to enter the "I am..." Challenge, so if you haven't yet submitted to it, we hope you will! If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to Note the group or leave a comment on the Home page! :eager: by darkmoon3636

Thanks again, and have a wonderful day! :happybounce:
- Michael & Linnea
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:iconlinnealaloca:
LinneaLaLoca Featured By Owner May 31, 2014  Hobbyist
Just wanted to say hi since were "co-workers" now ;)
Your welcome for the llama ^^
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