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How Will We Die?Do you know exactly how you're going to die? Of course not, no one does, but we have ideas. Burning, freezing, drowning, suffocating, we all hope for the less painful ones. But in reality how do we really know which ones are painful?
We ask people how painful death is hoping that they'll give us an honest answer, but how could they know, THEY'RE ALIVE!!!
People always dream of heroic deaths; being pushed of a cliff while trying to save a friend, perishing in a desperate attempt to save a little girl from a burning building, being shot while protecting your family. In reality, most of us will die of old age, not some heroic action that people will remember us by.
Then there are the people who dream they live forever, hate to break it to you but, we all die eventually.
We don't really have a choice on how and when we meet our end, so might as well make the most of your life while you're still here, because you may not be here for much longer.
The Frailty of Human LifeThe Frailty of Human Life
She lay there on the floor, slowly but surely drifting off. The bloodied knife lay beside her. All initial pain in her wrists had dissipated to a dull ache, and the sensation of blood leaving her body.
"It can't be that bad" she thought, "just like falling asleep."
In the next few moments, her life flashed before her eyes. The brutal childhood of having and abusive father. The terrible car accident that took her mother's life, the overdose that took her father's. Being sent to the orphanage at age nine, nearly a decade ago.
For as long as she could remember, no one had ever loved her. How could death be any worse?
Holding her eyes open had become too hard to bear. At long last her eyes closed, her body went limp, she was at peace.
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More