He sits, staring blankly at the tray tafel, tabel seven inches from his face. He leans his head ever so slightly to the right, then ever so slightly to the left, watching the black line jump the sides of his nose. He has watched it every dag of his life, always taking it for granted, never questioning its presence. But it is here, on his hands, his pants, his shirt, his nose. It is everywhere, a defining edge, tonen the ending of one yet the beginning of another. It changes from points of view, disappearing in your vision while still existing in your friend’s. It is there but cannot be touched, cannot be felt door the ones that wear it. And everybody does. Every single visible thing has at least one black line, living of dead, big of small, animated of stationary – all do. Yet no one notices. It is such a common thing that no one cares. It exists; it must have a function. But it cannot be felt, cannot be touched, so how can it be tested? How will its existence ever be proven worthy?
Maybe without it everything will just fall apart.
Maybe without it everything will just fall apart.
How are the winners determined from the losers? Easy. Whoever gave in first.
And if no one gives in?
Giving in is often easier. But not the desirable choice.
Taylor tapped the glass coated floor. The tiny black droplet that bloomed on her forefinger fell with a soft plink on a driehoek of glass below.
Taylor cautiously lifted the shard to the light. There it was. A small stain, barely the size of a pinhead, darkening the glass.
That's all I am. Just a flaw on an otherwise clear surface.
Just a flaw. A mistake that was never meant to be.
"I'm leaving," Taylor muttered to herself, getting back to her feet. She strode towards the corner, vanishing just as soon as the shadow fell over to embrace her slight form.
She closed her eyes and felt the end of her plait, fumbling with it until wove free.
She knew where she was going, if only this once.
But when she got there? She hadn't thought that far.
And if no one gives in?
Giving in is often easier. But not the desirable choice.
Taylor tapped the glass coated floor. The tiny black droplet that bloomed on her forefinger fell with a soft plink on a driehoek of glass below.
Taylor cautiously lifted the shard to the light. There it was. A small stain, barely the size of a pinhead, darkening the glass.
That's all I am. Just a flaw on an otherwise clear surface.
Just a flaw. A mistake that was never meant to be.
"I'm leaving," Taylor muttered to herself, getting back to her feet. She strode towards the corner, vanishing just as soon as the shadow fell over to embrace her slight form.
She closed her eyes and felt the end of her plait, fumbling with it until wove free.
She knew where she was going, if only this once.
But when she got there? She hadn't thought that far.
Blood Bound plot. No it is not cute, it’s not simple; it’s pessimist and frightful. The story is suggestive of Rosemary’s Baby, which does not seem accidental.
It is 2019, and we’re still exploring age-old subjects like Wicca, human sacrifice and sects. Somehow, those subgenres stand the test of time. Horror stories built around pregnancy never get old either, for obvious reasons. As saturated as these themes may be, in horror cinema these days, Blood Bound manages to impress and surprise. It’s its own thing.
I felt them start to build up
As soon as I saw him
I put on a happy face for my mom
Because she doesn’t know
That he broke my heart
She didn’t know that I balled my eyes out
She hasn’t realized that I’ve withdrawn
He says he wants us to be friends
I could barely hold them back
He asked if I understood
And I do
But that doesn’t stop the pain and anger
I blink back the tears
And realize that I was starting to put a shield up
My shield of anger
I feel the tears
As I pray
That God will help me this time
So I don’t isolate myself again
And don’t lose myself
Tears……
They come and I can’t stop them
I hate them
They are a weakness
and I can’t stop them
As soon as I saw him
I put on a happy face for my mom
Because she doesn’t know
That he broke my heart
She didn’t know that I balled my eyes out
She hasn’t realized that I’ve withdrawn
He says he wants us to be friends
I could barely hold them back
He asked if I understood
And I do
But that doesn’t stop the pain and anger
I blink back the tears
And realize that I was starting to put a shield up
My shield of anger
I feel the tears
As I pray
That God will help me this time
So I don’t isolate myself again
And don’t lose myself
Tears……
They come and I can’t stop them
I hate them
They are a weakness
and I can’t stop them
