Here I think a new post for a contest ... You tell me what you think? I know if I have to rewrite everything, or if you passages seem so interesting anyway.
sola sub nocte Ibant obscuri
Again this huge dice rolling towards me - this big dice roll, roll, scraping the black, scraping anything - in the thick black, whence comes this light that illuminates? Only him. And in these waves of dense darkness he rolls heavy and crashed heavily on one side - its damned dirty faces. It shows me the face elected, I can see where I am, I'm too small, or the die is too large, I should climb to view.
Four. (Hospitals do not have room for four in Japan, because four in Japanese means death. This is on purpose every time. It's fun to add this kind of little details to my torture. Ca means nothing.)
And here's the pawn, this gigantic piece, which lacks the universe to break each step. He sounded his big not immodest on every square, in falling heavily, with all its dead weight; each step, solid, dull deafening sounds the darkness and strikes in succession the four boxes. One, two, three, four. I hear almost childlike voice that counts. You find it funny?
I see the box, it is engraved, like the others, and fine lines drawn in dark wood make this disturbing pattern - finally I found disturbing those eyes watching me through / behind the bush. They glow in the dark and stare at me mournfully, a smile to their lips invisible. Oh no, even the box it opens under my feet - I knew it would be like that, why are what I am unable to remember it every time, it save me this stupor that paralyzes me three Good hours. It appears under my feet? I am the pawn?
I fall - I hate that the top heart wrenching - I feel sick.
A long road lies before me. At every time it is infinite. Whatever, I do not know. I walk, like the hundreds - no, thousands-of people in front and behind me. Does not exceed this paved road about a meter and a half. Around the road, earth, bare, dusty, which extends to small earth dikes parallel to the road and are just a few meters. I rest a bit - this calm me good. They say nothing, and slowly drag themselves along this road. I go a little faster than them but I troll also, everything is heavy, every move seems to be an infinite effort - I had time to do forty during that time. I must hurry or the troubles will still catch me. I hear shrieks behind me (too late), behind a hill on which the road ramp slowly rising. What's this? What's this? This horrible thing, that their cries tears that would make you vomit as they seem inhuman, disjointed, this horror liquid, solid, floating in the air and densely invaded my ears - this thing that causes such terror, that complaint which comes from the depths of their throats for up to a lot of gurgling their anguish animal, this thing must be awful. Flee, flee, flee. No, I must go, or it will still last for hours - anxiety, stress, fear, not knowing what I am, for which I would prefer to die rather than live it, rather than to face. I make my way in cons sense, I struggle with every step. I finally told myself it would be more convenient to walk beside the road rather than to rush these things fixed lines - they are ugly these statues, they are packed and they are not afraid or what? -. I digress road; strangely I slide along its side, like I was magnetized. But I slip at an uneven pace, fickle, and sometimes I wiggle to revive the movement, which becomes frantic, and I am whistling in the wind ears. I went a little too far, I like to go back to that dark mass that I see a little further - people here are like those I hung around just now. I demagnetized by turning on myself as if to unscrew, I am only a few meters from the scene of the tragedy.
And I see this little roller, which is just the size of the road, traveling as slowly inexorably, and cup the road and crushed the people before him as mere matter, which he extracted by squeezing the most terrible cries, the most primaries. I can not support this view more - no one drives the machine, I can not stop the summon, and these people seem dumb and deaf to anything outside themselves, and I told them to push the road, look behind them to do something, to react! Nothing helps. I m'époumone in vain in the din of the engine hums quietly, and cries of the innocent be surprised to suddenly roll over. If I can do nothing, then he must flee. I sweat all my spirits, and gradually getting away from the source of danger to achieve, brainless, few meters away. Same decor, same people, only the distance that separates me from the machine roller - that's how they say. Why are people behind the machine was not squashed? I did not see blood behind. Even desert scenery, everything grows to infinity. I finally decided to make the road m'aimantant, I walk away from the center of the road and walk right on board. Oh no, it does not work anymore, why? There must be something I do not work properly. I jumped on the board, helpless, tired, helpless - oh no I said before, I'm really tired of this whole charade. It works! I slip, not very rapidly at first, as if holding back something, rubbed. I was squirming to see, it moves faster, I'm squirming even more about myself and my speed is amazing. Cool wind my cheeks polished, I laugh, and lets rush into my mouth - I'll be so fast that I walked among them dull does seem to me more than a gray mass. A ravine! Top
heart.
Black - the dice. I can not take any more simply. I just want to stop playing. But no it is not possible. The dice that damn dice, boom boom boom in the depths of my soul (it amuses you?) My feeble little creature, who trembles at the end of this little thread that beats his four thousand taps per second, each pulse Terror is a no return, a terror-lived. The deafening shots of the pin, that crawls like a big elephant dying while monstrous vanity of its weight, and all its folds silently seep this suffocating heaviness - not to be, not to be, he should think about it, damn! A breath of fresh air unimaginable. At each new turn of this course the things I harassed all his little strength unquantifiable - you do not understand that it is not worth your whole unleash violence to harass me, to torture me - I already sweating from every pore of my being, I'm that a small puppet intangible trembling like a handkerchief glass, a spider's web, your every breath - and you feel the need to send me in the face your throat hurricanes? Voilàlalalalalala and the little dice, small piece, and the box that opens under my feet - I thought about this one, bravo, but I have been so scared, so it is useless - and the small box with cute little drawings, small drawings monstrous, and no, no I do not want to go back, I do not want, please, I do not want. Top
heart. I want to cry, but I can not, and my self a second after he forgot and can not get away.
I'm sitting on a white tile and black. Period of uncertainty which I am aware, aware of my universe a somewhat lethargic, but nothing really think clearly, piercingly. The queen, big and fat, watching me all the folds of his robe filled handsomely. There are people around, I do not know who that is, I do not know, do not see them, but they are there to fill the huge hall which I occupy the center. The queen is in front of me, in his ornate throne. I'm sitting on the floor in front of it around me a great space - they should not want to approach too closely, I am alone, given as food to all those little eyes that devour the smallest detail. They are carnivores, they eat away, she suddenly engulfed, one block without warning. (Ah, a train station, happiness - it leaves the station, but there are also - there is a known and reassuring presence, the warm shadow of a hollow neck, and his lovely fragrance.). Gifts fall gently from the ceiling of the room, there is no trap, I know even if I did not make the effort to look toward the ceiling and offer my throat to look around me carnivores . A gift is placed in front of me and fleet. From the beginning, a sort of uncomfortable silence gives me the impression of change - even if I did not move into a world-cotton - even if you do not see it. Deaf eyes, the cruelty deaf to everything public, deaf and fury of the Queen who summons me to open the gift. I open it slowly, trembling. There is nothing - no bomb saved. She said nothing, how do I know she is furious against me - grin distorting his face was already there earlier. Another grave, I try to control my fingers to open - if it's a bomb and my fingers trembling, I'm lost. It's a bomb! Oh no. Another, the carousel again. Another, I take a little insurance, and it's hell between my fingers. It was a bomb. Immediately opened, it exploded in my hands. My fingers have nothing but a sort of trauma has now installed in me. The queen is all disheveled, and his face anthrax. It would make me laugh so its air of angry harpy not terrified me - it does nothing, but it's even worse - any threat in the background rumbles and roars like a demon of the intestines snoring and roaring. If another gift explodes, it will wake him up, and it awakened the fury of the queen, for sure! Another gift falls. No, but I do not want, I can not ... I have no choice, it would be worse if I did not. My nervous fingers - that are not even my fingers, fear makes them foreign to my body - began to untie the knot that encircles the gift
Four. (Hospitals do not have room for four in Japan, because four in Japanese means death. This is on purpose every time. It's fun to add this kind of little details to my torture. Ca means nothing.)
And here's the pawn, this gigantic piece, which lacks the universe to break each step. He sounded his big not immodest on every square, in falling heavily, with all its dead weight; each step, solid, dull deafening sounds the darkness and strikes in succession the four boxes. One, two, three, four. I hear almost childlike voice that counts. You find it funny?
I see the box, it is engraved, like the others, and fine lines drawn in dark wood make this disturbing pattern - finally I found disturbing those eyes watching me through / behind the bush. They glow in the dark and stare at me mournfully, a smile to their lips invisible. Oh no, even the box it opens under my feet - I knew it would be like that, why are what I am unable to remember it every time, it save me this stupor that paralyzes me three Good hours. It appears under my feet? I am the pawn?
I fall - I hate that the top heart wrenching - I feel sick.
A long road lies before me. At every time it is infinite. Whatever, I do not know. I walk, like the hundreds - no, thousands-of people in front and behind me. Does not exceed this paved road about a meter and a half. Around the road, earth, bare, dusty, which extends to small earth dikes parallel to the road and are just a few meters. I rest a bit - this calm me good. They say nothing, and slowly drag themselves along this road. I go a little faster than them but I troll also, everything is heavy, every move seems to be an infinite effort - I had time to do forty during that time. I must hurry or the troubles will still catch me. I hear shrieks behind me (too late), behind a hill on which the road ramp slowly rising. What's this? What's this? This horrible thing, that their cries tears that would make you vomit as they seem inhuman, disjointed, this horror liquid, solid, floating in the air and densely invaded my ears - this thing that causes such terror, that complaint which comes from the depths of their throats for up to a lot of gurgling their anguish animal, this thing must be awful. Flee, flee, flee. No, I must go, or it will still last for hours - anxiety, stress, fear, not knowing what I am, for which I would prefer to die rather than live it, rather than to face. I make my way in cons sense, I struggle with every step. I finally told myself it would be more convenient to walk beside the road rather than to rush these things fixed lines - they are ugly these statues, they are packed and they are not afraid or what? -. I digress road; strangely I slide along its side, like I was magnetized. But I slip at an uneven pace, fickle, and sometimes I wiggle to revive the movement, which becomes frantic, and I am whistling in the wind ears. I went a little too far, I like to go back to that dark mass that I see a little further - people here are like those I hung around just now. I demagnetized by turning on myself as if to unscrew, I am only a few meters from the scene of the tragedy.
And I see this little roller, which is just the size of the road, traveling as slowly inexorably, and cup the road and crushed the people before him as mere matter, which he extracted by squeezing the most terrible cries, the most primaries. I can not support this view more - no one drives the machine, I can not stop the summon, and these people seem dumb and deaf to anything outside themselves, and I told them to push the road, look behind them to do something, to react! Nothing helps. I m'époumone in vain in the din of the engine hums quietly, and cries of the innocent be surprised to suddenly roll over. If I can do nothing, then he must flee. I sweat all my spirits, and gradually getting away from the source of danger to achieve, brainless, few meters away. Same decor, same people, only the distance that separates me from the machine roller - that's how they say. Why are people behind the machine was not squashed? I did not see blood behind. Even desert scenery, everything grows to infinity. I finally decided to make the road m'aimantant, I walk away from the center of the road and walk right on board. Oh no, it does not work anymore, why? There must be something I do not work properly. I jumped on the board, helpless, tired, helpless - oh no I said before, I'm really tired of this whole charade. It works! I slip, not very rapidly at first, as if holding back something, rubbed. I was squirming to see, it moves faster, I'm squirming even more about myself and my speed is amazing. Cool wind my cheeks polished, I laugh, and lets rush into my mouth - I'll be so fast that I walked among them dull does seem to me more than a gray mass. A ravine! Top
heart.
Black - the dice. I can not take any more simply. I just want to stop playing. But no it is not possible. The dice that damn dice, boom boom boom in the depths of my soul (it amuses you?) My feeble little creature, who trembles at the end of this little thread that beats his four thousand taps per second, each pulse Terror is a no return, a terror-lived. The deafening shots of the pin, that crawls like a big elephant dying while monstrous vanity of its weight, and all its folds silently seep this suffocating heaviness - not to be, not to be, he should think about it, damn! A breath of fresh air unimaginable. At each new turn of this course the things I harassed all his little strength unquantifiable - you do not understand that it is not worth your whole unleash violence to harass me, to torture me - I already sweating from every pore of my being, I'm that a small puppet intangible trembling like a handkerchief glass, a spider's web, your every breath - and you feel the need to send me in the face your throat hurricanes? Voilàlalalalalala and the little dice, small piece, and the box that opens under my feet - I thought about this one, bravo, but I have been so scared, so it is useless - and the small box with cute little drawings, small drawings monstrous, and no, no I do not want to go back, I do not want, please, I do not want. Top
heart. I want to cry, but I can not, and my self a second after he forgot and can not get away.
I'm sitting on a white tile and black. Period of uncertainty which I am aware, aware of my universe a somewhat lethargic, but nothing really think clearly, piercingly. The queen, big and fat, watching me all the folds of his robe filled handsomely. There are people around, I do not know who that is, I do not know, do not see them, but they are there to fill the huge hall which I occupy the center. The queen is in front of me, in his ornate throne. I'm sitting on the floor in front of it around me a great space - they should not want to approach too closely, I am alone, given as food to all those little eyes that devour the smallest detail. They are carnivores, they eat away, she suddenly engulfed, one block without warning. (Ah, a train station, happiness - it leaves the station, but there are also - there is a known and reassuring presence, the warm shadow of a hollow neck, and his lovely fragrance.). Gifts fall gently from the ceiling of the room, there is no trap, I know even if I did not make the effort to look toward the ceiling and offer my throat to look around me carnivores . A gift is placed in front of me and fleet. From the beginning, a sort of uncomfortable silence gives me the impression of change - even if I did not move into a world-cotton - even if you do not see it. Deaf eyes, the cruelty deaf to everything public, deaf and fury of the Queen who summons me to open the gift. I open it slowly, trembling. There is nothing - no bomb saved. She said nothing, how do I know she is furious against me - grin distorting his face was already there earlier. Another grave, I try to control my fingers to open - if it's a bomb and my fingers trembling, I'm lost. It's a bomb! Oh no. Another, the carousel again. Another, I take a little insurance, and it's hell between my fingers. It was a bomb. Immediately opened, it exploded in my hands. My fingers have nothing but a sort of trauma has now installed in me. The queen is all disheveled, and his face anthrax. It would make me laugh so its air of angry harpy not terrified me - it does nothing, but it's even worse - any threat in the background rumbles and roars like a demon of the intestines snoring and roaring. If another gift explodes, it will wake him up, and it awakened the fury of the queen, for sure! Another gift falls. No, but I do not want, I can not ... I have no choice, it would be worse if I did not. My nervous fingers - that are not even my fingers, fear makes them foreign to my body - began to untie the knot that encircles the gift
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