[ ביית אותי ]   [ עדיפה ]   [ עזרה ]  [ FAQ ]  [ אודות ]   [ הטבלה ]   [ דואל ]
  [ חדשות ]   [ אישיים ]
[
קול-נוע
]
 [
סאונד
]
 [
ויז'ואל
]
 [
מלל
]
 
New Stage
חיפוש בבמה

שם משתמש או מספר
סיסמתך
[ אני רוצה משתמש! ]
[ איבדתי סיסמה ): ]


מדורי במה








"I cannot hear you sad!"
Cursed with the sensitivity. Bloody sensitivity. It was
impossible to get ahead in this world without constantly
being irritated by the horrible way people feel.
Suffering. That was the most devestating sound. Little
vibratoes of blame emerging from the tiny delicate strings
that formed the vocal chords. Frustration, anger - problems.
They all had problems. One at a time, they would make a
sound, or a moan, that would disturbe the peace.
'Can't they just be... HAPPY. Happy! I want all of them
HAPPY'.

At first he tried to make them feel nice. It worked for a
while, but underneath that there was still a lot of anger he
could feel and hear and... soon would come the blame.

This world has too many problems. It is impossible to listen
to a single song and just to enjoy the MUSIC.
Melody.
Each has sorrow or pain. The voices are fighting each other,
blaming each other - thought they all think alike. They all
think they are entitled to something in this world - this is
the greatest source of all suffering!  

Order.

Where is the order in this world? The world doesn't need
ignorant people that keep blaming each other for things they
could probably fix in themselves.

But to do that they have to be strong - really strong.
In order to be truely strong, one must try to learn from
mistakes. It is ok to make mistakes, but if you don't learn
from them you can never become strong.

Blame.

Those weak voices. Weak as the traces of ignorance in his
brain. He could not stand them. Self pitious voices like the
sounds he used to make when he was... when he was...

Don't think of it.
Get over.
Stop.

Relax.

The sky is beautiful. But gray. Too gray. Add sunshine.
Where is the sunshine?

Flowers bloom.

Once there was this feeling - pure and natural. Just where
can one get a hold of that which melts the heart in its pure
sincerety?

Selfish. So selfish. Fix all of your mistakes - right now!
You'll never make it in life! You're no good!

Bad words.

Kind words can help. Some hearts get all warm by kind words.
It helps to relief the stresses of the night or day.
Don't...

That will only result in pain.

Can't stand the suffering outside. That disturbs the
thinking. Wish I could kill them all!
The people can stay. Let their sufferings go away.

If one wants to survive they have to get rid of all
suffering.

What to do?

A new invention. An invention that will kill pain. Put some
warm feelings in there. Make them think that's good for
them.
People will buy everything if it makes them feel great.

---

And so was created The End of Suffering

The End of Suffering was a small vaccine. It was usually
injected in the wrist or the tip of the left eyebrow.
That made all the world clean. Clean of suffering.

---

People began to make mistakes. But they did not suffer from
those mistakes. So they never fixed them. On the other hand
- there was no suffering.
One could even say that those mistakes were no longer
considered mistakes.

Nobody suffered abuse. Nobody suffered rape. Nobody suffered
being hit or shot or killed or just brutally tortured.
No secrets could be discovered by methods of fear anymore -
as there was nothing to fear.

Miraculously - people began to stop hurting themselves.
That was rather strange. You would think that if there would
be no suffering people would do everything to themselves -
but the corse of action they took each time they did the
same things they would do to bring pain simply evaporated
from the world.
You could hear people kindly asking for unimagined things,
like permission to step outside the prison, and if refused,
they would kindly leave and find a kinder way to ask again.

Sooner or later, their wishes would be granted.
And there was no suffering.

Peace. Finally peace.
But the irritation never left. It had remained there, like
an old time reminder of things that were and never were.
Guilt. How does one get rid of it?

Ignorance. There's no other way.

September 27, 2009
Sun J







loading...
חוות דעת על היצירה באופן פומבי ויתכן שגם ישירות ליוצר

לשלוח את היצירה למישהו להדפיס את היצירה
היצירה לעיל הנה בדיונית וכל קשר בינה ובין
המציאות הנו מקרי בהחלט. אין צוות האתר ו/או
הנהלת האתר אחראים לנזק, אבדן, אי נוחות, עגמת
נפש וכיו''ב תוצאות, ישירות או עקיפות, שייגרמו
לך או לכל צד שלישי בשל מסרים שיפורסמו
ביצירות, שהנם באחריות היוצר בלבד.
אשה בעלה,
בא עלה, בעלה.
בעלה את הבעל
בפני בעלה.

מחדד הלשון


תרומה לבמה




בבמה מאז 30/6/10 3:34
האתר מכיל תכנים שיתכנו כבלתי הולמים או בלתי חינוכיים לאנשים מסויימים.
אין הנהלת האתר אחראית לכל נזק העלול להגרם כתוצאה מחשיפה לתכנים אלו.
אחריות זו מוטלת על יוצרי התכנים. הגיל המומלץ לגלישה באתר הינו מעל ל-18.
© כל הזכויות לתוכן עמוד זה שמורות ל
שיר-לי יונגבלוד

© 1998-2024 זכויות שמורות לבמה חדשה