joecool909

The voices. Everyone thinks im insane when i speak of them. But they exist, and i know it! I can hear them so clearly. They tell me so much that i never knew. The whispers in my head help me make sense of the world. I dont understand these people here. They call themselves adults. But they are students, and they are so mean. Just because i talk about my voices.  Cant anyone else hear them? It would make them so nicer if they could. The voices are calming arent they? They make sense as the world doesnt. But everyone is so mean, and i hate it. The voices hate it too. They are so nice and they tell me secrets. They say to me things. 

[G.U.N. Report] Report on : Darkness Vexen Notice : Darkness has given us very limited knowledge on where he comes from, his past, and who his family is. A biography is unable to be completed. However, through other studies, we have more info, on other items of interest on him. My apologies, Director, for our limited knowledge. What we do know, is that he went to one of our training facilities at the age of 15, and he exceeded past most expectations. Past that there is nothing about him. He just sorta appeared. I find it suspicious, so we are going to keep researching him. Species : Hedgehog, with some wolf in him, aka his father. At leas

A man, thin and tall, wearing a small fedora, a suit, and a tie, walks in the sunshine, down a lonesome street. He is not a nice man. He is a mean man, and he has done a lot of bad things. A thief, a liar, and a cheat, he believes he is untouchable. But, even though he's never been jailed, something has caught him. He is alone, but he is not, he cannot shake a feeling, a feeling that someone is following him, but when looks behind him, there is nothing but the empty street, and bright sun, casting a shadow of light onto him. He shrugs, and keeps walking, thinking he was imagining it. But he wasn't. There is always one person that follows him,

Wake up. A dream, the ocean of imagination, where we rest out minds, letting it wander, letting it be free. In real life, we are chained to reality, where we cannot be free, and a dream is where we are free. But without the dream, what do we have? We have no freedom...our imagination dries up into a desert, where we crawl for one tiny shred of imagination, the water of life, the imagination to prevent insanity. Thus we must dream, or go insane. We must drink, or die. The principles, have they changed? But to spread our imagination, we must express it. And thus i write, i write what my imagination creates. There are those who draw, those w

I look in the mirror, into my eyes. All i see is hate, is the reflection hating me, or am i hating my reflection? The answer is both, one is a reflection, one is a person. Seeing my reflection, i am filled with hate. With my fist clenched, i smash the reflection to pieces. Now it is just me, and im still filled with hate. In my mind, is a vast word, that goes on endlessly. In my mind i combine my imagination, and put it onto paper, into a masterpiece of stories. In my mind i am free, and i am happy, it was a world, that was enough to make me happy. But then it ends, and im back to the real world. A world i hate, because of my body. I am labe

Vanexus part 6 Vanexus awakens, looking up at the ceiling, curious about the change of his surroundings. He sits up, rubbing his quills, yawning. When he turns around he sees Dola, who smiles sweetly at Vanexus,"Well good morning Vanexus, how did you sleep?" Vanexus looks away from her, embarrassed at his defeat from the charger. His long hair gets in his face as he turns, since he has not cut his hair. "Where am i?" She smiles at him, and walks to face him, "your in my home." Vanexus frowns as he looks at the ground, "and who are you. And where is Selena?" Dola looks at him,"she is bathing, she was dirty from crawling and carrying you."