World caves in

See this is where annonimity helps but also hinders, as we are expressing so much but we are still hidden so we are detached, like writing fiction, because we are writing to no one really oh we are talking me and you but we are merely words on a screen so we are only alleviating so much, were it more reality we would say less but possibly cleanse more I don't know, it's all very confuserating.

were we to sit down at a table having a coffee or tea or whatever would we be so prone to dredge so deep or would we just talk of frustrations, with possibly the odd joke thrown in. I guess what I am trying to say is that we can say so much but really say so little at the same time. Because we are talking to ourselves there is no soothing voice on on the other side no physical expression and no warmth of subtle touch for comfort.

People often talk of baggage everyone has it unless they are a monk and even then who knows, it's the seeing beyond that's what matters and people who truely care will see beyond that baggage and will hold your hand and help to show that it's not really there

Whatever the truth is @Redraw - I can only know you by what you write - and I have told you I am drawn to reply to you - stating I don't know why

I haven't consciously been playing The Devil's Advocate - but I see the other side of your nature reacting - and this can only be good

Of course - you can write what you like about yourself - but that's all I can know - now I know more - and other people have picked up on it

And this has to be a good thing

Decadian

I am somewhat of a conundrum, I can help people if they show me a frailty it's in my nature to help where possible, I am not sure if I do or don't but am always straining to try.

the writing not always as detailed and descriptive as some other things, but words can be used for many things but people use words without comprehension of the power words can truely have, words can do so much and have such impact if people really know and feel them. The words love, sorry, thank you, hate, disgust, happy, sad, and so many others are thrown around flippantly by so many, but if they were to actually feel, actually see, actually understand the words would they use them with such disregard, I should hope they wouldn't.

but in times where so many things I find sacred are seen by the majority as of no importance I doubt they would take the time to feel the power within a word nor an action which I find to be very sad.

But I digress I have strengths that are not easily quantifiable, I think it makes me interesting when people stop looking and start actually seeing perhaps they will discover so much more than they can ever know

Yes @Redraw

I have been indeed looking but I am being to see - and I really do know words - I studied linguistics as part of my degree and do know about semantics

And I have been reading and trying to understand the man behind the words - and here you are - starting to come out from your shell and telling us more about yourself - I am indeed pleased - I knew there had to be a genuine person behind the concepts of despair you were posting

You do have a gift to write what is called "Stream of Consciousness" and this is not a modern concept - the first book I had to read written with Stream of Consciousness was one I certainly never would read otherwise but was part of my course work - was written in the C18th from memory - and this book through me into despair - I was of course younger than I am now but still older than you are now - but I read this book again - and again - and started to see the humour hidden inside the language - and laughed and the people who marked my exams were thrilled to bits with my effort - I got very high marks for that - loved it

So - see - I can read through - I knew you were in there somewhere - now don't run off - I like what I see - and I want to know more

Life has hurt you - it has hurt me God knows - but I have found that through the darkest time of my life when I had no one to stand beside me I grew strong - I didn't feel strong - but my doctor told me that what happened was the most important thing in my life - and indeed - at even thirty years ago had so much impact on my life that I have grown mature in a way that my own parents could not or would not - but I did

So - take another look - what was a terrible event in your life threw you into a terrible despair that has lasted so long - see now if you can turn that into a strength - it has certainly made you a good writer - let's see what it can do for your life

I can repeat - I KNEW there was a person with value and hope under all of that - I just KNEW it

Decadian

I sit within my large chair, I draw one of the strange persons from within my mind the basics tricky but much more uncomplicated than the process of shading and giving the person form, creation for myself a complicated task, others come much easier, this the most minor of the team of soldiers within my mind.

creation is an interesting thing, can draw, can write, but it's making it form that is where things become complex a simple misplaced line or word can cause a feedback within the mind causing the paper to be put aside perhaps not to be picked up again for weeks or months, the two pictures attached to my profile took a lot longer than the actual work entailed. Writing things like this comes a lot more easily as it is just words from the fingertips no real creation involved, this is just wording within my mind, a lot more common in my mind than anyone knows as my shyness and self consciousness stays my tongue in most situations so instead I talk in simple platitudes rather than the depths and romanticised wording that can come so easily when I am an unknown.

strangly I am generally an unknown, very hmmmmmm no no one has seemed to breach the more common than anyone knows speech from my mind, words and sentences will dance around my mind but the words that flow forth from my lips are comparatively mundane. Does this make me strange, does this mean I suffer in fear, of course I do but perhaps one day the words I think someone will hear because I feel safe, because I feel comfortable, because they want to be heard.

people say a picture paints a thousand words, if used correctly a single word passing the right lips can tell a story so deep that a picture could never hope to show.

I once saw the eyes of absolute fear, the depths of terror of abject horror within those waterlogged orbs still haunt me to this day, the water welling thick around the lids the bright shine streaked with red in the whites, the iris alternating between green and blue moving like waves on a rough sea, the pupil rapidly swelling and retracting, what was behind those eyes? what was hidden within? what darkness was held so deep within that mind? I think that I shall never know but those eyes I shall never forget.

Perhaps it is an event long ago repressed beneath an ever spreading internal tarp, a safe locked but for just a moment a breach of the door showing just a minuscule image of a happening, an occurrence a something.

how long was it, how many moments passed, when did I see it, why didn't I see it, why did I not realise, the eyes I was seeing were my own, reflected from a simple puddle was I within the puddle or without? Perhaps I shall never know, perhaps I should never want to know.

That is brilliant @Redraw

Actually - sacred and terrible - I don't want to know what side of the surface tension of the water in you are on either - maybe both - yes - I think - maybe both'

Decadian

Creating pictures with words and stories with pictures what is to be seen can never be unseen nor unfelt, I know not why I draw or why I write no one knows who I am, and pictures are never to be seen, words make for stories sometimes dark, sometimes warm, could be anything where I can create feeling, emotion, tenderness with words written unspoken, no one cares to hear and were I known I likely stay unread.

the world is an unfeeling, uncaring, Unknown, fearful place when you couldn't see another's affection were they to hold up a sign, a woman could stand before me with a placard reading "I love you" and I would stand perplexed, I know not what I feel anymore, the affection once held for another turned to hurt now feels I am back to an emptiness within. I can create stories in my head about people but there I can know what's right, what's up and what's down, there can be no pain they can see me.

i feel I have gone to that empty place within where I feel nothing unseen, Unknown, vacant, of course something remains or I could not right such pretty prose.

beauty walks amongst us as much as the day brings light and the night brings dark, there are things of intense beauty but are they real or just illusions dreamt up by my own sad delusions, of dreams, and what becomes of dreams a simple dream can become a nightmare within a second as a thing or person of beauty can become a horror. It's amazing how quickly things can turn, light becomes dark, happy becomes sad, love becomes hate, like becomes disgust. Why can nothing pure remain, why can not my innocence and nievety have value over arrogance and lies.