i loved his movie cradle of fear
Where are those happy days, they seem so hard to find
Description :
Comment devenir Gothique en 10 leçon ? Vous êtes les bienvenue à la goth académie !Ici, on pleure, on déprime, on saigne, bref on souffre !!! Mdr Je précise que ce blog est IRONIQUE et que nous ne haissons pas la culture Gothique :DCeci est un blog de fiction.Les personnes, situations et lieux presentés dans ce blog sont fictifs et n'ont aucun lien avec des personnes, situations et lieux ayant réelement existé. Toute similitude avec de faits réels serait totalement fortuite
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Son profil
sadness744
22 ans
tangier
Autre pays
dani filth
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# Posté le vendredi 16 mars 2007 14:43
Modifié le jeudi 17 mai 2007 12:18
DARK ETERNITY
End of Eternity
I painted you a picture of beauty
One that was embedded in the sky
I whispered you an elogy
Left it on the smooth ridges of your lips
I pressed my hands on yourse
but you pushed me away
Step by step
And day by day
I am forced to watch you sweep me away with the dust
Though you watched my heart shatter
I still try and pick up the pieces
Handing them back to you in a hope you will piece them back together
It was impossible for me to see through the charade
Even now I deny it
I keep dreaming you'll be with me
Closing my eyes and wishing it wuold happen
On my knees I'll beg God to let you see me
But you turn your back on me once more
I miss you for being away for far to long
I'll stop breathing if I don't see you anymore
but you still turn away from me
wishing me to hold my breath
wishing my the all to sweet sinnocence
of naught but death
But I wanted you to stay
to stand by me and hold me hand
Because I needed to hear you say those simple words
Those words that made me wish for life over death
The words that keep be breathing everyday
Just to hear them spill from your lips on me
I need you to stay
To keep my heart in your hands
Because I am blind to the truth
Blind to the death you laid before me
Because even though I saw your lies
I would still walk to the end of eternity for you.
One that was embedded in the sky
I whispered you an elogy
Left it on the smooth ridges of your lips
I pressed my hands on yourse
but you pushed me away
Step by step
And day by day
I am forced to watch you sweep me away with the dust
Though you watched my heart shatter
I still try and pick up the pieces
Handing them back to you in a hope you will piece them back together
It was impossible for me to see through the charade
Even now I deny it
I keep dreaming you'll be with me
Closing my eyes and wishing it wuold happen
On my knees I'll beg God to let you see me
But you turn your back on me once more
I miss you for being away for far to long
I'll stop breathing if I don't see you anymore
but you still turn away from me
wishing me to hold my breath
wishing my the all to sweet sinnocence
of naught but death
But I wanted you to stay
to stand by me and hold me hand
Because I needed to hear you say those simple words
Those words that made me wish for life over death
The words that keep be breathing everyday
Just to hear them spill from your lips on me
I need you to stay
To keep my heart in your hands
Because I am blind to the truth
Blind to the death you laid before me
Because even though I saw your lies
I would still walk to the end of eternity for you.
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# Posté le vendredi 16 mars 2007 14:37
Modifié le mercredi 04 juillet 2007 21:28
some poetry
Tale of a Gothic Princess
Princess Dominica looked so beautiful
All dressed in black
With white make-up and dark purple lips
She sat on the throne so full of majesty
The onlookers were dazzled by her beauty
And worshipped the ground she walked upon
The King was not well
And expected to die soon
And the Queen had died long ago
So the young princess would soon rule the Kingdom
Everyone was impressed with her intelligence and grace
She carried out her duties without question or complaint
And she would always greet new visitors with a smile
Once the audience was over she would return to her rooms
In the privacy of her own room she would cut her wrists
And let the blood pour into a bowl
She would force food down her throat until she could eat no more
Then she would go to the lady’s room and be violently sick
Underneath all her garments she was painfully thin
She felt so much pressure to be beautiful
She had many suitors but none that she loved
A stranger from abroad arrived one day
And stole her heart
But he was not a suitable match for a princess
A handsome sailor of common stock
She pleaded with her father to let her marry
But he doggedly refused her request
One night she took the blade
And slit both her wrists
Not a cry for attention
But an attempt to take her life
Living was a torment to her
The expectations too high
The rewards lacking in true value
Her dead body was found the next morning
And all the towns folk mourned her death
The beautiful princess had departed this land
And headed off above the clouds
To find a happier resting place
A traditional Gothic funeral was held
To celebrate her life
Many fine words were said
And then her body was buried
Under a thousand red roses
Her Cousin Isabella was now next in line
And took over the royal duties
A heavy burden for a fifteen year old to deal with
So many souls are sacrificed on the road to glory
Princess Dominica looked so beautiful
All dressed in black
With white make-up and dark purple lips
She sat on the throne so full of majesty
The onlookers were dazzled by her beauty
And worshipped the ground she walked upon
The King was not well
And expected to die soon
And the Queen had died long ago
So the young princess would soon rule the Kingdom
Everyone was impressed with her intelligence and grace
She carried out her duties without question or complaint
And she would always greet new visitors with a smile
Once the audience was over she would return to her rooms
In the privacy of her own room she would cut her wrists
And let the blood pour into a bowl
She would force food down her throat until she could eat no more
Then she would go to the lady’s room and be violently sick
Underneath all her garments she was painfully thin
She felt so much pressure to be beautiful
She had many suitors but none that she loved
A stranger from abroad arrived one day
And stole her heart
But he was not a suitable match for a princess
A handsome sailor of common stock
She pleaded with her father to let her marry
But he doggedly refused her request
One night she took the blade
And slit both her wrists
Not a cry for attention
But an attempt to take her life
Living was a torment to her
The expectations too high
The rewards lacking in true value
Her dead body was found the next morning
And all the towns folk mourned her death
The beautiful princess had departed this land
And headed off above the clouds
To find a happier resting place
A traditional Gothic funeral was held
To celebrate her life
Many fine words were said
And then her body was buried
Under a thousand red roses
Her Cousin Isabella was now next in line
And took over the royal duties
A heavy burden for a fifteen year old to deal with
So many souls are sacrificed on the road to glory
# Posté le vendredi 16 mars 2007 14:22
Modifié le jeudi 17 mai 2007 12:07
lost
Black enchanting eyes, cut through my heart with no regret or sign of life They tear apart my pride and cold runs through my veins I feel their stare from miles haunting every step and they won't stop hunting me down I know the time will come, when all around me's burned and you'll still see me there Asking where you went too and what person brought you here And why you left the burning children cold out in the night and calling for you all alone... Dark in their hearts, I can feel it burn inside of me Tormented young with no souls, haunting me Pain in their lives all they know is misery Take these chains away that are holding me down They'll find you alone and your desperate and villainous ways Turning their hearts into stone they seek more then vengeance Look in their eyes your pain is their satisfaction Look in their eyes and see the darkness take hold Burn for the rest of time Hear the haunting words lost children with no heart are crying and your the lost mother their calling I hear them crying at night outside when the planets are falling They want to feel and know you hear them
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# Posté le vendredi 16 mars 2007 13:58
Modifié le jeudi 17 mai 2007 12:22
angel
try not to cry again
# Posté le vendredi 16 mars 2007 13:53
Modifié le jeudi 17 mai 2007 11:55
gothic castle
éternal rest
# Posté le vendredi 16 mars 2007 13:45
Modifié le samedi 17 mars 2007 00:05
Bienvenue à la goth academie.
Depuis le temps qu'on nous le demande, je vais enfin vous expliquer comment devenir dark lorsque vos parents ne sont pas d'accord (les vilains).
-Papa, maman, il faut qu'on parle. J'ai grandi, j'ai decouvert de nouvelles choses et ... je me suis rendu compte que je n'étais pas comme les autres.
-Pourquoi, mon fils, tu es gay ?
-Non. Je suis goth.
*soulagement dans le salon*
-Maman, j'ai une petite chose à te demander, mais avant ça, sache que j'ai enfermé le chat dans le frigo, que j'ai caché la liste de courses et que mes amis sont prêts à pietiner le tapis avec leurs chaussures sales. Je veux un pantalon en cuir, modéle avec chaines, 150 euros au Grouft.
-Tout ce que tu voudra mon cheri, mais rend moi la liste je t'en prie.
Methode 3 : Subtilité.Convoquez les dans le calon.
-Maman, papa, qu'est ce que vous diriez si, soudain, je devenais suicidaire, depressif, je me rasais la tête et je portais des hauts sexys en resille noire ?
*evanouissements dans le salon*
Prenez la carte bleue et fuyez.
Maman, Papa, je veux devenir gothique ascendant metaleux.
-Mais tu es fou, mon fils ! Tout sauf ça !
-Trés bien. C'était une blague. En relaité, ma passion, c'est la méche sur le front et les petits pantalons moulants. Acceptez vous de me prendre comme fils emo ? (variez selon les periodes : emo/rockeur/doll, les tendances, ça s'en va et ça revient ...)
Si aucune des methodes n'a marché, c'est que vous n'y croyiez pas assez fort. Recommencez.
Methode 1 : Exageration.
Convoquez les dans le salon.-Papa, maman, il faut qu'on parle. J'ai grandi, j'ai decouvert de nouvelles choses et ... je me suis rendu compte que je n'étais pas comme les autres.
-Pourquoi, mon fils, tu es gay ?
-Non. Je suis goth.
*soulagement dans le salon*
Methode 2 : Chantage.
Convoquez les dans le salon.-Maman, j'ai une petite chose à te demander, mais avant ça, sache que j'ai enfermé le chat dans le frigo, que j'ai caché la liste de courses et que mes amis sont prêts à pietiner le tapis avec leurs chaussures sales. Je veux un pantalon en cuir, modéle avec chaines, 150 euros au Grouft.
-Tout ce que tu voudra mon cheri, mais rend moi la liste je t'en prie.
Methode 3 : Subtilité.
-Maman, papa, qu'est ce que vous diriez si, soudain, je devenais suicidaire, depressif, je me rasais la tête et je portais des hauts sexys en resille noire ?
*evanouissements dans le salon*
Prenez la carte bleue et fuyez.
Methode Quatre : Reconversion.
Convoquez les dans le salon.Maman, Papa, je veux devenir gothique ascendant metaleux.
-Mais tu es fou, mon fils ! Tout sauf ça !
-Trés bien. C'était une blague. En relaité, ma passion, c'est la méche sur le front et les petits pantalons moulants. Acceptez vous de me prendre comme fils emo ? (variez selon les periodes : emo/rockeur/doll, les tendances, ça s'en va et ça revient ...)
Methode Cinq : Discretion.
Ne les convoquez pas au salon. Ne leur dites pas "je veux devenir goth". Ne leur demandez pas de payer vos vetements. Pretextez un exposé pour aller acheter des tenues à chatelet, apprenez à vous maquiller sans miroir, changez vous chaque matin dans la rue. Pour vivre heureux, vivez caché.Si aucune des methodes n'a marché, c'est que vous n'y croyiez pas assez fort. Recommencez.
# Posté le vendredi 16 mars 2007 13:35
Modifié le jeudi 17 mai 2007 12:01
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