Pride Ed

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Meanwhile in Ohio

More About Me

What I want you to know about me...

Just call me "Pride." I'm 21 and I live in the desolate state known as Ohio. Writing is my release, reading is my pleasure, music is my forever, and the alcohol just gives me more credibility! I love that fragile, thin line between darkness and light, and my alter ego which I use pretty frequently is no exception. Everything I write is nursed by classical horror, sad plot twists, and a life that is insanely painful one minute, and breathtakingly beautiful the next. I am hated, I am loved. I'm the romantic, and I'm the realist. I sing in metaphors, and play with the matter-of-fact..... Contradictions are lovely, and dreadful.

I'll scream for you in whispers, because I always hated being too loud...

༺ ţђεŕε'ş ά вlùεbιŕđ ιή ๓ץ ђεάŕţ ţħάţ ώάήţş ţσ ģεţ σùţ, вùţ ί'๓ ţσσ ţσùģђ ғσŕ ђί๓. ༻

→ ┱here's not much to be said about a mass of ςlάץ made up of รţάŕđùรţ, but yet one must ask why ςσ๓έţร fell to the molten surface in the first place to deliver
what was needed to generate liғε, and what are the intricacies of the scientific tapestries that make up the living map we are woven in to.
-- ┱ђε вlσσđץ вlùεbιŕđ.

Some of the things that pop in my head at 1 in the morning:

-As dark as it may be, that's the trick!
Tame that which tortures you and weave a hauntingly beautiful work of art out of it for others to see and praise you upon. Manifest the tears you cry, the scars under your sleeve, and the demons inside your head into your own design. Make them work for you!

-So you reflected on the time you spent pining for a love unrequited?
I know the feeling all too well. And time is a cruel mistress in herself.
She doesn't care what you're waiting for. She leaves without you regardless, and that makes two things that get away and leave you behind. At the end of the day, even wondering what would have been is time's way of pushing you even further backwards. You are unable to further catch up with her through her onslaught of passage into forever, chained down by longing for something that won't even keep up with such a progression as well.

-If the classical hell existed, I'd make it into a tourist attraction. The only true hell that exists is within our own minds, and enough psychiatrist have stepped around in mine!

-Sobriety while facing my own darkness only makes me a proxy of hate; automatic with revenge and void of any other emotion. Drunkenness lets me freely laugh with it as we joke about the insanity I lazily recount in my head. This is the only time I can truly call a monster my friend.

-I've considered rebuilding some bridges, but I'd sooner believe in someone's remorse and forgive them if they were willing to walk on the water to get back to me.

-Revenge to a poet isn't revenge. It's their latest work, eagerly published for the world to see.

-One must know the importance of wearing masks. They not only hide our true motives from others, but they also hide the monster we've become from ourselves.

-I've bitten the hand that feeds me, but never hard enough to draw blood.

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