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tsvlink25

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Soft Happiness

2 min read
Living life, we only want one thing: self happiness. You may claim to want your friends, or others, to be happy, but that is what drives your own personal self happiness.

The smallest things can create the illusion of happiness: A garden, happily growing larger by the day; thus representing expanding friendships. Social life is a garden; it only wants to grow, and it can be beautiful. A simple laugh can bear the illusion of happiness as well; thus a water ripple in a lake, caused by skipping a rock. The rock, being the cause of laughter, ripples the water on touch, also known to be the laugh. Moments later, however, the thin ripples of laughter on the smooth face of water simply disappear, and the moment is gone.

For each person, insects of depression slowly come into our beautiful garden of life. Day by day, they progress, slowly making the garden smaller. Soon enough, you become the only remaining plant. The lone rose, in a garden filled with the darkness of depression. The reality slowly takes over in our brains, "Nobody else is really gone; I am the only one infected, bitten by the demons of sadness. Nobody will help me."

The venom of depression fills our veins, day by day, as we slowly die of who we once were, and a dead rose begins to form in our place.

Suddenly, but with such perfect timing, as you are sure that the illusion of happiness will never enlighten us again, another rose grows next to you. The beautiful rose, with red petals that shine brightly in the sunlight. It bobs upwards and downwards, ever so slightly, slowly restoring life to your dying petals.

As the rose before you slowly makes a healing effect on you, you bear a slight smile. At that one instance of a smile, the new rose embraces you, restoring all life to your petals, and making you shine beautifully as well. You close your eyes for one instant, letting go a small tear of joy.

This was true happiness, only to be caused by the person meant to be with you.
This, was soft happiness.
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A Single Bullet

4 min read
---(Note to all: I am not depressed, nor am going through any odd phases. This came to me while watching Aria: The Scarlet Ammo, so I'm just taking in my surroundings. Just to throw that out there!
I also don't blame you if you don't understand this! I found it a bit odd, re-reading it myself...I may revise it at some time, if people don't understand it well enough!)---

You lie on top of a mountain. The view is completely outstanding. As far as the eye can take you, there are only more mountains, some higher than the one below your feet. Fog rolls through some, giving the eerie appearance to them.

Upon your personal mountain, you find two things. To your left, is a gorgeous flower that has just bloomed. The stem is a vivid green while the two leaves bob upwards and downwards, the flower bouncing in happiness of its own beauty. The top of the flower has a bright gold center, with shining white wings extruding from every point. Each shining wing has its own slight sway, showing off its beauty. The entire flower is shining in a sun beam, directed right over it, like a spotlight on a stage, or a gateway to heaven. It calls to you, "Come to me..."

And then, you look to your right. Sitting on a pile of three bloody roses, is a shiny silver gun. The gateway from heaven on your other side is slightly reflected off of the gun, making it shine nearly as brightly. The metallic glow of the weapon tries to pull you in. It calls to you, "Pick me up..."

And then, you look up into the sky. The mountains around you transform into people. Every mountain that was in sight, another person. Foggy mountains become those who have hidden secrets, while the beautiful mountains are those you know you could never be, no matter how hard you stride for. The sky above you slowly gets absorbed into your head. The clear, blue skies are your crystal-clear thoughts. No melancholic clouds are nearby to make your day any more sad.

You look to your right, and stare at the gun. It lays, just in reach. The bloody roses become dead leaves, while the mountain beneath your feet becomes a dirty sidewalk. You close your eyes, and pick up the gun.

As you look around at the other mountains that are ignoring you, you notice the fog begins to envelop you. The sky becomes darkened with clouds. Ever so slowly, the depressed clouds begin to cry the heavy rain. You hold your breath, ready the single bullet, aim the gun, and fire.

You fall to the ground, eyes widened huge as you realize what you just did. Something irreversible, and something that you can never take back, or even relive. The one thing that made you feel happy, and wanted you to be happy as well.
You killed the beautiful flower.

The pile of leaves that held the gun get blown away in the wind. The sidewalk beneath you becomes even filthier. The body of the dead flower just lays there, bleeding out its watery contents. The only thing in the garden now, besides the now-dead beautiful flower, is the single bullet that was fired.
That one single bullet was the one who ruined a life. It was not the gun, nor the person who fired it.
The gun, representing a terrible choice, just laughed at you. The body of the beautiful flower, which was the greatest choice you could ever make, blankly stared at you, with its cold, dead, petals. They were no longer shining wings, they were just white petals.
The single bullet, now known to be the person who made the decision. It was the bullet who ruined it all.
The single bullet.
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Heavy Rain

4 min read
Rain...It's both soothing, and a pain.
For the past 7, even 8 weeks, it seems as though there hasn't been a full week of just sunshine. There has been at least one day (On most parts, at least three) of just rain.

Whenever it rains, I find myself to zone out, only much more than usual. I'll look out the window, watching the rain hit the window panel, and I'll just think deeply. The soothing "pat pat pat" of the rain hitting the side of the house, or the opened windows at school, makes me feel lost in my own thoughts. The cloudy sky, easily reflecting on a troubled mind.
Stress, and thinking is much like a rainy day. The stressful, annoying thoughts fill your mind, coming before most happier, pleasurable thoughts, much like the clouds fill the sky and cover the warm sun. The rain falling from the crying clouds gives the soothing chills of realization. Sad thoughts. The Sky is our mind, and the clouds are our sad thoughts, coming to give us a great discussion within ourselves.

The lighter rain is the best of it. Not quite a large amount of rain, but more than a drizzle. It gives the perfect amount to begin your thoughts. The sky, only partially overtaken by the clouds, still has some sun shining on through. The mind, beginning to fill with sadder thoughts, trying to block them out with the sunlight of happier thoughts. But the sadder thoughts always cover the happier thoughts, and become the next topic that the mind discusses.
Lighter rain is when I take relaxing walks. In the midst of Autumn, and the falling leaves, some light rain, it's absolutely beautiful. Half zoned out, the bright leaves hardly leave a crunch, and leave more of a "spsh" noise. Not quite a crunch, but definitely a noticeable sound. Like the sound of softly rubbing hands together. The light rain coming down from the crying clouds splat against the pavement, leaving the echoes of "pat pat pat" in the distance. The cars driving by on the wet road, with the loud "SHHHH" of the tires digging in a puddle, is like that of a uncaring detail in the backround that still adds to the story. Such as description. No story needs description; therefore, no rainy Autumn day needs shushing cars; thus they have them, because they add the detail, and make it all the more worthwhile.

The rain is moving. I look up into the sky, just as the rain becomes heavier, and I close my eyes. The pats of the rain hitting my soft skin begin to feel more like fingers, lightly tapping me, almost as somebody who wants my attention. I stand in the rain, lost in my thoughts, the bright red leaves being patted by the tears of the clouds, with the happier thoughts being blocked, just as the sun.

Before I know it, the rain is gone, and the sun comes out. The mental tears go away, and the happiness comes out again. The leaves are done being patted, yet continue to spsh under my feet. The rays of light from the sky shine brightly, only visible because through the beautiful sky that was once filled with sadness.
The feeling of the happiness returning from the sadness of the crying clouds...it can be the greatest feeling a person can experience. A weight off of the shoulders, perhaps.
The light rain was great to begin all of the thoughts. The easy-going transition from drizzle, to light rain, to rain, and to the next is like that of a sad feeling coming about, and thinking more deeply into it.
What happens when you think so surely about it, and concentrate on it?
The Heavy Rain.
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My Truth

1 min read
In going to my grandpa's house, my aunt showed me an old notebook she found. It belonged to my grandmother, who passed 3 years ago.
In the notebook, was a mini-journal of me. The first entry was dated on my exact birthday. In her entry, she talked about me, and everyone's reactions to me.
There was a second entry, dated three weeks later. It talked about how everyone took care of me, and how, when my mother was ill for a few days.

In reading this, I felt myself smiling, and feeling my grandmother's good memories. I feel happier, cheerier, and like I this was a message to me. I don't exactly know how, but I take it as the message of "Continue to be true to yourself."
Whether this sent that message truly, or not, I will continue to do it. In her memory.
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Indeed it has! In the past week, I got Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door to work on my computer, allowing me to extract textures/characters. I've been busy extracting the things I found missing from the whole internet....such as Toadette.

Anyway, I've also improved my Paper Mario TTYD art style a bit! I can work with it a bit more easily than I did with my Rosalina/Daisy, and I will soon be posting a lot more art!

The Adventure Unfolds...now.
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Featured

Soft Happiness by tsvlink25, journal

A Single Bullet by tsvlink25, journal

Heavy Rain by tsvlink25, journal

My Truth by tsvlink25, journal

A Paper Mario Adventure Has Unfolded! by tsvlink25, journal