Third Journal Feature

It is a lovely sunny day and I have just come back from the gym (for the first time in weeks). I feel an inspirational mood, and selected a red background as it can represent positivism, energy and vitality.  

I feel that it is time to display some more works of art that I have found on this site. Please take a look at the following creations; I believe them to be a mixture of styles and interests, all of which are very beautiful.


                                                                               
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                          :thumb277931411: PiPi.
I have begun.
We,
The most beautiful image.
Ours,
A world bathed in light.
And there is nothing to do but watch entranced.
It dances.
And I will stare in wonder,
Lost in the hazy glow.
It is ours,
And we have become fractals.
Why are we here, so fixed in place?
To find a light, greater than all the world,
But tiptoe through it towards sweet oblivion.
I had thought you blind until you walked closer,
Speaking in riddles,
Moving alone.
As you transcended,
I watched as the light caught us both
And placed us down,
Swimming in a sea of numbers.
I breathe.
Stifling a breath, a  murmured laugh,
We join our hands
And walk forwards.
It is beautiful,
This light that you had said was unattainable,
This ascendant expanse
Of logic,
And of reaching beyond what it means.
Seeing what it shows us as we run through.
What else can there be?
...
Now alone,
I feel the touch of your rough hands,
But I cannot see you for the light,
Although I hear you
Laughing.
There is nothing there for:thumb142901212::thumb201403322:
          :thumb256079560: The AlleyHe slunk down the narrow street, a sense of uneasiness crawling up his neck.  The wind howled suddenly in his ear; he turned sharply.  Nothing.  
A dingy newspaper shuffled at his feet.  He glanced at it, distracted.  "KILLER STRIKES AGAIN" it announced proudly.  His stomach churned.  Something was poking at the back of his mind, itching for him to remember, to acknowledge.  Arms crossed, he ground the newspaper into the dirt.  He was so tired.
Quickening his step, he bent his head against the wind.  He began to run, only to be sent sprawling into the pavement when he tripped over a fallen trash bin.  Face pressed against the asphalt, he shoved his hand into his pocket.  It was still there, he thought, breathing more slowly.  It's here, he thought I'm safe.  He repeated the mantra until the words lost their meaning.  Here
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            :thumb269851910: ChaosChrist, I must have slept funny, my leg's gone dead.  I must have been pretty deep over too, I don't even remember getting back to the flat.  I don't remember anything since that guy pushed me down, with that girl screaming.  Yeah, she's still at it, I can't have been over long.  Crying now, I think, I can't hear properly.  I think they put cotton wool in my ears, didn't want me waking up.
Why isn't this leg moving?  I need to get up, see what time it's got to.  But I like this lazy half-sleep bit of waking up.  And I feel sick.
I open my eyes and my headache cracks me between the ears.  I try to wince and suddenly realise every part of me hurts, and it's pain like nothing else.  Pain in my very insides, worming its way up and down me, throbbing and shivering and wrestling with me.  Pain that shudders from my belly and takes up so much room in my body I feel like it's going to
                           
                                              
                                                                
                                                                               

                                                                               
                                                             
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