�Messed With and Messed Up� -- adjoin with the forces

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Date Posted: 17:43:31 12/01/02 Sun
Author: �Disturbed�
Subject: �Messed With and Messed Up�

Reasoning
Don�t pretend you care. I know you don�t really. I see that in your eyes. I can see how they look away in shame, and in slight disgust. I have learned to live with it. I knew from the moment I that saw you that you only like me for my beauty. But now here I am, strong, willful, and proud. I know you feign that you see me, but I perceive that you look right past me. At the new girl, tired of me? Too bad. Your loss is my gain. But then you just lose the old girl right. NEWS FLASH! I�m not the new girl no, but much better then her. I know what it is like to be that age, it was fun but it gets boring� just like you.

Stagnation
A form sulked in the background, depressed and weary from its journeys. The torso progressed languidly into the tract each movement was laggard. The frame was engulfed in a color so dark, but then it was dark so how could someone tell. The physique moved in a thunderous tranquility, with courteous and respectful disposition. Subtle movement revealed the crown, it seemed as black as midnight, but was it really? It was supine to the mold, despondent. The dial raised lightly, bringing her out of the wood and into the blonde sun�s rays. The culmination was drenched in dark crimson to complete ebony in shadows. Windows were of the golden value, but they held a look of misery. A miniscule fire burned in them, a glimmer of optimism. The oculists of saffron glanced in circles viewing the other equines of both sexes. As the retinas spotted a nearby bronc they turned to a loathing despise, yet the cob remained hushed. The lobes were laid back in a dismal manor, no hostility� yet. They perk and swivel as if searching for something, possibly the timbre of imminent daggers. They then rest again in the morbid position, as if they heard nothing. Then in an instant they rose again, they heard a call of a wolf. Bloodstained labia�s curl back to devour the emerald substance below. Ensanguined kissers pull at the succulent cuisine. After the filling repast, they released and went back to their normal position. A cavalier sneer crossed the labrums but then a look of great stagnation crossed them. Hollows intake the scent of those around. They intake the scent of titans. Nares take the aromas of jezebels. Paper-thins flare to inlet the perfume of the surroundings. The crest moved gracefully, giving hopefully a slight hint to the genre of the creature. It was refined and glossed over. It curved in a gentle slope down to the dial. It raised in lofty manor, holding the poll in meek hauteur. The locks on her nape were in immaculate position, but then a frail wind. The locks bristled upon her cobrall. Making the charm of this stranger. The tapestries fell back into their location with a quick movement of the cranage. Appendages move with a secure equilibrium, the daggers were solid in their places. With each step of the pillars the nails would be hammered into the sod. But then the flighty footfalls ceased with skepticism. The figure had halted. The tassel blew in the gale, it was velvety and sleek.

Sorrowful Concept
They told me that I was a reject, and I was worthless. They said that I wasn�t worth even to talk to, they told be to be gone. Now look at me. I stand up here on stage, my hair hanging down past my shoulders. My eyes glimmer with hope, but deep within a shade of gray hides me. I pick up the microphone; I bring closer to my mouth. I let the notes flow smoothly each note pertaining to a word. I see them. The one who told me that I was reject, that I was worthless, the ones who said don�t talk to me, and told me to be gone. The words stop as I see each face, my mouth remained open but nothing came out. The music stopped, they knew my past. They knew how each and everyone had hurt me. The other band members got up, the guitarist came over and took my shoulders and steered me backwards. I walked back reluctantly, my footsteps faltered with each movement. As I passed through the curtains, I heard the drummer call out with the microphone I had dropped. He called for them� the ones who did this to me. I could here the allusion of fury; I could sense the distraught feeling deep within his voice. I heard more footsteps, more then the pianists�, and the drummers�. It was them� the 3 who tormented me with these conscienceless. The guitarist sat me down on the couch, I sank in my eyes were glazed over in a feeling of inadequacy. They came back, a sneer on each of their faces. I felt tears forming, but I blinked them back. They looked at me; I hated the way they stared. Then it started, �Look at her she worthless! She�s a reject.� They said the things they used to then the drummer called security. They shut their mouths, but their eyes taunted me.

Considered
Specified:
�Disturbed�

Cursed:
�Fae�

Painted:
�Dark crimson almost raven�

Heritage:
�Arabian�

Standing:
�16.3�

Misc. Info:
Although many get the first impression of being weak, she is very strong. But quite depressed.

Shibboleth:
�Starfield�

Favored:
�Unsure�

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Replies:

öMessed With and Messed Upö -- �Disturbed�, 17:45:19 12/01/02 Sun
- go ta the henge (NT) -- Cass, 18:31:27 12/01/02 Sun