Despair despairing
695 creative works found
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acrylic on canvas 2004 Please don’t use my work without my permission.
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This text is a continuation of that started in the piece immediately preceeding this: sketching mad. I started drinking one afternoon was sure I didn’t go out or see anyone but woke up in a pair of dirty women’s underwear. / I was at a palatial house with a goddess and threw up in her spa. Don’t know her name I don’t think I did even then. / Winters were the worst always lost and drunk and cold always wet and so fucking far to walk in the rain. / Crashing twisting in fear and self-loathing, detesting, despising, abhorring leper outcast unclean. And so goddamned SICK pathetically grateful for whichever nutcase girl was looking after me and holding my long dirty blonde hair out of the bucket. / “Why do you hate us all Paul? Why do you do this?” / “I don’t hate anyone. I have never hated anyone. I am the avatar of dismay. I am the boiling man. I am just too selfish to die. / One of my good friends threw himself from a building and I stayed drunk for weeks. An old and loyal friend fought me in sneering drunken fury, both of so full of poison that we could not even form fists. Neither of us spilling heart’s blood whilst we fought, so young and so completely ridiculous. / Drowning men. / My ex-girlfriend spat in my face that day. Tried to catch a bus and buy vodka with blood running everywhere again from my own cheap knife the despite boiling inside me, rage a crevasse of pathetic sadness and grief for myself. For Andrew. For all of us feeding from ourselves eating our own venom until it bubbled and frothed in our mouths. I didn’t know where I was just fucked it all up and sullied the memory of a good man. Lost and wandering and crying fucked up and such a fool, such a fool so damned my scalding hell heated the slippery corners of my eyes. / He was the funniest fucker I have ever met. / Such waste. / S A D S I C K N E S S. / Fevers of blame and despair. Spreading between us like Andrews’ beautiful young body across the cement. / I miss him still. No note. His mother’s shuddering sobs shall not leave my memory and spilled in echoes over my ruin as I catalysed the manufacture of my own disgust. / Got so used to casualty wards where I would wake up (“seemed euphoric” I read on the chart) with stitches and no idea how I had got there who had taken me. Hit on the nurses, once one reciprocated I couldn’t fucking believe it. More psyche wards again and again I always liked the schizophrenics they were, at least, as mad as me. / Locked wards psychotics everywhere screaming at night. The half hour or hour or whatever the fuck it was we were allowed to wander around outside our cells, the men all of them except me, every one, ALL hung on the wire fence, heads at odd angles staring out, fingers through the chicken wire. Razor wire at the top. / I remember I had a chance to get out and go to the open wards an interview with three guys running the place. I looked forward to it for a week or something I don‘t know the haze too thick, chemical dust deep – I do remember the longing it I thought my articulation would save me again. I hoped and hoped waited got visited by three girls had tried to destroy with the holes in my heart, cutting arcing guilt betrayer that I was, liar, storm of pain my touch and words a plague of emotion. / They didn’t come back I think the number of doors with locks scared them though they all tended to think it was PRETTY FUCKING ROMANTIC. / I was tanked on some hardcore drugs I have no idea what. Varieties of thorazine the zine family yeah, a chemical lobotomy the pain whirling inside, a thrown running power saw spraying meat but no expression nothing connecting, shut out of my own body. / Got to the meeting and I opened my mouth in front of these psychiatrists and I could not SPEAK. Too wasted oh wasted yes but not in the fun way that’s for sure. / I could SHAKE though and I could drool cuz I couldn’t get my facial muscles under any sort of control. So I stayed there for another week or more weeks who the fuck knows? / Hated being there so I longed for squalour ethanol sex attention. Filled instead with drugs and shakes and sobriety. Polluted with chemicals worse oh fucking worse oh yes than my own toxic liquid destruction. / I DARE YOU TO FIX ME! / They had this thing where some poor lost mad bastard would stand up and say the THOUGHT FOR THE DAY after our group meetings with people rocking in the corners. They were all so fucked up most of them could barely speak some not at all others never shut up but they only spoke to people who were not there. I stood up and quoted Shakespeare for ten minutes. Midsummer night’s dream I think I thought it was nice and cheery for everyone. / “Lovers and madmen have such seething brains such shaping fantasies that apprehend far more than cool reason ever comprehends. / One sees more devils than vast hells can hold, that is the madman…” / Got out and stayed on the drugs like a good boy but kept drinking and kept cutting. All the fucking useless things did was excise my personality make me impotent make my hair fall out make me fat make me slow and make me HATE. Worst of it was I could not react act my speed acuity lust passion poisoned memory gone awareness gone focused to an angel point into pure hissing SHAME. That I was born in a fucking PARADISE of love and that I had flared brutally, violently bright. I knew history enough to understand that we live in a utopia of humanism; I knew enough LIFE to know that I had been born raised loved and somehow STILL WAS by the most beautiful minds hearts and hands. / Mother. Father. Sister. Every kindness I had repaid with failure. I deserved every torture I could devise to inflict for betraying them so deep and hard, those who threw everything anything they could find to save me into the pyre of my fucking excuse for a life. / Shuffle along undead NOT LIFE PAIN but undead don’t fall and weep with acid logic with scalpel reason undeniable distress killing my father see his eyes watching me tear myself to pieces. Hooks of my own hurt see it in his shoulders slumped he has given up I hurt him so much he is dying ahhhhhHHH. Raised with passionate care, soft hands, sweet voices singing in the night care and care and care such a beautiful boy oh he is so beautiful the boy the betrayer the monster the liar the drunk. / Guilt an endless sun clawing every sense every thought and it was RIGHT it was TRUE the only thing I had ever done was break the bones in the hands that held me. Eat the life deserve this worse such a coward mouth red and sticky and still Life eater ALIVE I was still ALIVE why was I alive? i shall continue more posts tomorrow, serialised hm.
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Just because you are unique does not mean you are useful Be unique, be yourself, but stay true to who you are, don’t be unique just for the sake of being unique, have a purpose or a destination.
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A morbid history of St. John’s… the hill in the background is known as Gibbets Hil, it is where all the criminals were hung in public executions. The body of water at the base of the hill is where the executioner would throw the bodies when they were dead. The pond is known as “Dead Man’s Pond”. / / Visit my website On The Rock Photography / /
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Man
by Jo O'Brien -
Lil Lonely Boy Blue / Stop Blowin Your Horn / / Author: Amber Elizabeth Fromm / Artist: Sean Farragher / here Lil, Lonely Boy Blue…. / As He Walks / His Journey / Feels / So All Alone…. / Loneliness / Fulfills Him / And Chills / His Very / Bones / Forgetting Love … / That God So… / Carefully / Paints / Upon….. / Walks In His / Blue World / Tis Blue / From Dusk / to Dawn / Oh If Ever / To Look Down / Upon Those / Coats / He Wears.. / To See Love / Painted On Him / How Many / Of Us / Care…. / He Feeds / Upon This / Sadness, / In Distant / ICE… / He Stares!!! / And Walks / Amongst / His Teardrops… / Walks / Amongst / Despair / Oh , To Look / Around You / And Shed / The Blue / Coats / That / You / Wear, / Rainbows…. / Dance Upon / The Earth…. / The Angels / That Do Care…. / To Feel God’s / Love … / Touch / Sunshine.. / Tis But … / All Around / God Sereal / Surrounding / Is But / All Around / To Only / Step Out / Of The Pity / Oh Lil Lonely / Boy Blue / Tis Easy… / Just / Put Those / Blue Coats / Down / Lil Lonely Boy / Blue… / So Easy / So Easy / Is to Change / So….. / Lil Lonely Blue Boy… / Put Your / Blue Coats / Down
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also available / if this means somethin to you… get it…wear it… and make a statement that matters! thanx for taking the time to view my art and (hopefully) comment… / please have a look at my other artwork… / hope you enjoy! :) /
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I would Thank Peter ( igotmeacanon ) for letting his image, Neuadd Reservoir. View Peter’s image here and all his photography its magic stuff. / / http://www.redbubble.com/people/igotmeacanon/art/1607488-1-neuadd-reservoir / / Thanks so much Peter hope you like it.
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All work in this portfolio is © Stephanie Rachel Seely. / These materials (images and poems) may NOT be edited, copied, reproduced, printed, distributed, displayed, performed, or used in any way, in whole or in part, without my written permission. Please respect copyright and do not save or upload any images or poems to Photobucket, Flickr, Myspace, Facebook etc. These creative materials are NOT public domain. This artwork was featured in Dimensions Inspired by And Love Said No by HIM ....Stock Credits…. / Flower Brushes / Background / Model / Stock copyrights remain the property of their respective owners.
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part of a ttv (through the viewfinder) series Theory: / TTV (Through The Viewfinder) photography is when you use an old medium format camera and a digital camera. / These old medium format twin reflex cameras have large viewfinders. Firstly you compose your image using the medium format camera (in my case i have used a mamiya c33) then you actually take the picture using a digital camera (here i use my pentax K10) of what is in the viewfinder of the old camera.
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Image captured outdoors in full sunlight using 1 studio strobe and 1 gold reflector. Makeup done by me – heavy black eyeliner pencil, mascara, dark blue eyeshadow, covered face and eyebrows with concealer and powder. Wardrobe: strapless skin-colored slip. Used thick consistency eye drops to get make-up to run and create tears.
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...has she missed or made the deadline.. / model: Kelly Teitzel
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ailinstock.deviantart.com I don’t often do male works – but I wanted to show the more vulnerable male side… hope it’s okay and not too dark.
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Me….
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All my own images. Please view LARGE to be able to appreciate the finer detail.
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night-fate-stock.deviantart.com / sxc.hu / and my own textures I feel like this lately – my mom finding out she has breast cancer – then my husband gets laid off…. :( / one thing after another…. That’s why so much art – I’m pouring all I got. Sending you lots of love and hugs – please send me some back! xoxox Claudia
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all stock purchased and textures my own I wanted it to have a rough, moody feel…. I think, although the Holidays are joyous, there are many who feel like this gentleman..
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Thank you to Mel Brackstone for taking me to this abandoned house yesterday. Also enjoyed shooting around my ‘hood with Kelly , then op shopping with Mel, Kelly and Katrina before this shoot :o)
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2nd in the pierrot series =)
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