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My breathing became agony. That damn agony separated my body from my brain, making it impossible for me to move. The rain pushed me harder to the ground falling to my bare bloody opened flesh in my stomach when I realized it was over.
I couldn't do anything. Just watch how that man with his hair raised up in a spike gave his last glance at me, spitting to the ground before turning around. It was odd, seeing you insulting yourself like that. Like the taste of your own damn medicine. Worst of all, he stole my rightful place. It should have been me the one how looked down to a soon-be-dead-body on the ground. Me the one who scoffed disappointed in that guy's low potential. I, Kenpachi Zaraki, of all the Captains the strongest, how could I let this happen?
Nevertheless, he was stronger.
I never though that I would die to the likes of myself.
The intensity of me wanting to move my fingers and grab my Zanpak-to increase like the rain that kept me attached to the ground. My
Beautiful and SolitaryBeautiful and Solitary
Chapter One: The truth
The Council of the Captains was aligned just for me that morning. I had to present my report in front of them all, all covered up in wounds because there was no time for treatment. The Old Man was desperate to hear what I was about to say about the mission. So I knelt in front of him with my Haori touching the wooden floor with some of my blood. The thing was I heard an anonymous hiss beside me, as if the absent agony that should been in me had moved on to another person. I didn't have to look to know that it was the Captain of that Healing Squad, she always stood there. Besides she always smelled like Herbs and Incense, and so it has been since the first time I saw her since I first joined the Squads.
She was all so different. I've heard that she's the strongest of all the Captains right after the Old Man, so she had this privilege to questionize the Old Man's orders every now and then. She always talked about the innocent and our priority
Life is but a DreamWe are just unnourished frail bodies,
overfed with white lies and short-lived-euphorias.
Books filled with black letters,
etching lurid images into our utmost dreams.
Veering us from the big picture...
the one we fail to paint ourselves.
Our fists much too busy with fights,
that we are bound to lose.
Too occupied in line waiting,
for creativity to be let loose like a stray dog.
As if we will find home in this pursuit of happiness...
but we only enclose each other in small rooms
with nothing but old laptops.
How many times I've guessed which letter could it be...
Which letter could it be?
To free us from havoc-stricken-thoughts?
They come and go, unending like 24 hour subway stations.
There's no break for this lonely man,
heaving every breathe of stale air
into my overused lungs...
Living in confined walls of flesh
held up with brittle paper-mache bones.
Which day is it that I will burst out from this cage of a life?
And hover with the Gods found in carefully binded bo
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More