Published in DNA - Do Not Alter
Published in DNA - Do Not Alter
Published in DNA - Do Not Alter
Image credit by Alexis Fauvet
Image credit by Alexis Fauvet
Image credit by Alexis Fauvet
Resigner H. Luth. Remember my name. Remember the story. Live the dream.
Resigner H. Luth. Remember my name. Remember the story. Live the dream.
Resigner H. Luth. Remember my name. Remember the story. Live the dream.
November 27, 2023
November 27, 2023
November 27, 2023
Primal Drives
Primal Drives
Primal Drives
Survivalism v.2
Survivalism v.2
Survivalism v.2
Living and breathing.
~ and all those endless nights.
Rare and driven
Somewhere beyond rational thought, in the deepest recess of your brain, you know as well as I do (if not better), just how good life can be once you manage to kick off those shackles. Turn your back on the memories, and walk towards the light.
This is not a group activity. When you are fighting your demons - real or imaginary, your human instinct is to SURVIVE. Once you've succeeded, the rest is easy. How many years of evolution has taught us that? The instinct to protect "life" comes built in. So let's move forward to thriving.
- Image credit: @PositiveBear (Pinterest)
Primal, not primitive.
In the desolate outskirts of a thriving town lay a lonely dump. A graveyard of forgotten memories and discarded dreams. Among the heaps of refuse, a young woman named Nina navigated her way through the twisted metal and decaying remnants of an otherwise, flourishing community. She, like the remnants around her, felt discarded and lost.
"So, this is where we disappear" she thought to herself.
Nina, unsure of herself and grappling with the weight of her own uncertainties, sought solace in the desolation of the dump. The air was thick with the stench of decay, and the flickering light from distant streetlamps barely penetrated the darkness.
Little did she know that this forsaken place would soon become the crucible that tested her mettle in ways she could never have imagined.
It was a moonless night, and as Nina wandered through the wreckage, a shadow emerged from the darkest corners of the dump. A figure, face obscured by the tattered remains of a hood, approached with a malevolent intent. In the stillness of the night, Nina sensed the danger but was paralyzed by fear.
The hooded assailant, brandishing a rusty blade, confronted Nina with a chilling grin. The silence was shattered by the malicious laughter that echoed through the abandoned wasteland. In that harrowing moment, Nina felt a surge of anger rising within her, a visceral reaction to the injustice of her situation.
Nina let her out a visceral howl of her own. The sound that escaped her was not a cry for help. It was a noise she would dream of afterwards, but never could repeat. It spoke of anger. It was no growl, it was too high pitched. It was the sound of panic. It was the scream of the helpless, it was a century old roar. It should have intimidated, it did not.
Without hesitation, she cast aside her uncertainty, drawing strength from the depth of her anger. The disappointment of her existence, the feeling of being discarded by life, transformed into a source of empowerment. The assailant lunged, but Nina, fueled by an unexpected courage, dodged the attack with a grace that surprised even herself.
In the dim light, a battle unfolded between Nina and the hooded assailant. The refuse-strewn battleground became a canvas for a struggle between despair and resilience. The pain was numbed by adrenaline, and Nina's eyes glowed with a fierce determination as she faced her would-be killer.
As they circled each other in the moonlit dump, Nina's anger crystallized into a mantra: "Not today." The makeshift weapon she found, a broken pipe discarded among the ruins, became an extension of her defiance against the darkness that sought to consume her.
In the midst of the fight, Nina's instincts took over. The clang of metal against metal, the harsh breaths echoing in the desolation, painted a picture of survival in the bleakest of settings. The hooded assailant, realizing that Nina was no ordinary victim, hesitated for the briefest moment, allowing her to seize control of the situation.
With a final, decisive blow, Nina disarmed her attacker. The hooded figure crumpled to the ground, the discarded mask revealing a face marked by disbelief. Nina, breathless but alive, stood over him, the broken pipe clutched tightly in her hands.
The dump, witness to the clash of despair and determination, seemed to exhale a collective breath. Nina, once uncertain and lost, emerged from the wreckage with a newfound strength. The lonely dump became the unlikely arena where she confronted her fears, transforming the discarded into the triumphant.
⨔Fin
Hidden chapters?
Why is it that the stories we never tell are all the really good stuff, we find in the attic, where we keep the Christmas tree and tinsel?
ㄟ( ▔, ▔ )ㄏ
Resigner 💜
Now go! Love it or hate it, you will find a way to deal with it. Wishing you the best [enter gift of choice]. And for heaven's sake, stay on the nice list!
#justmoveforward
Thanks for still sprinkling the crumbs my readers.
🪝Keep on reading. Angels may stumble but, my how they rise.
Living and breathing.
~ and all those endless nights.
Rare and driven
Somewhere beyond rational thought, in the deepest recess of your brain, you know as well as I do (if not better), just how good life can be once you manage to kick off those shackles. Turn your back on the memories, and walk towards the light.
This is not a group activity. When you are fighting your demons - real or imaginary, your human instinct is to SURVIVE. Once you've succeeded, the rest is easy. How many years of evolution has taught us that? The instinct to protect "life" comes built in. So let's move forward to thriving.
- Image credit: @PositiveBear (Pinterest)
Primal, not primitive.
In the desolate outskirts of a thriving town lay a lonely dump. A graveyard of forgotten memories and discarded dreams. Among the heaps of refuse, a young woman named Nina navigated her way through the twisted metal and decaying remnants of an otherwise, flourishing community. She, like the remnants around her, felt discarded and lost.
"So, this is where we disappear" she thought to herself.
Nina, unsure of herself and grappling with the weight of her own uncertainties, sought solace in the desolation of the dump. The air was thick with the stench of decay, and the flickering light from distant streetlamps barely penetrated the darkness.
Little did she know that this forsaken place would soon become the crucible that tested her mettle in ways she could never have imagined.
It was a moonless night, and as Nina wandered through the wreckage, a shadow emerged from the darkest corners of the dump. A figure, face obscured by the tattered remains of a hood, approached with a malevolent intent. In the stillness of the night, Nina sensed the danger but was paralyzed by fear.
The hooded assailant, brandishing a rusty blade, confronted Nina with a chilling grin. The silence was shattered by the malicious laughter that echoed through the abandoned wasteland. In that harrowing moment, Nina felt a surge of anger rising within her, a visceral reaction to the injustice of her situation.
Nina let her out a visceral howl of her own. The sound that escaped her was not a cry for help. It was a noise she would dream of afterwards, but never could repeat. It spoke of anger. It was no growl, it was too high pitched. It was the sound of panic. It was the scream of the helpless, it was a century old roar. It should have intimidated, it did not.
Without hesitation, she cast aside her uncertainty, drawing strength from the depth of her anger. The disappointment of her existence, the feeling of being discarded by life, transformed into a source of empowerment. The assailant lunged, but Nina, fueled by an unexpected courage, dodged the attack with a grace that surprised even herself.
In the dim light, a battle unfolded between Nina and the hooded assailant. The refuse-strewn battleground became a canvas for a struggle between despair and resilience. The pain was numbed by adrenaline, and Nina's eyes glowed with a fierce determination as she faced her would-be killer.
As they circled each other in the moonlit dump, Nina's anger crystallized into a mantra: "Not today." The makeshift weapon she found, a broken pipe discarded among the ruins, became an extension of her defiance against the darkness that sought to consume her.
In the midst of the fight, Nina's instincts took over. The clang of metal against metal, the harsh breaths echoing in the desolation, painted a picture of survival in the bleakest of settings. The hooded assailant, realizing that Nina was no ordinary victim, hesitated for the briefest moment, allowing her to seize control of the situation.
With a final, decisive blow, Nina disarmed her attacker. The hooded figure crumpled to the ground, the discarded mask revealing a face marked by disbelief. Nina, breathless but alive, stood over him, the broken pipe clutched tightly in her hands.
The dump, witness to the clash of despair and determination, seemed to exhale a collective breath. Nina, once uncertain and lost, emerged from the wreckage with a newfound strength. The lonely dump became the unlikely arena where she confronted her fears, transforming the discarded into the triumphant.
⨔Fin
Hidden chapters?
Why is it that the stories we never tell are all the really good stuff, we find in the attic, where we keep the Christmas tree and tinsel?
ㄟ( ▔, ▔ )ㄏ
Resigner 💜
Now go! Love it or hate it, you will find a way to deal with it. Wishing you the best [enter gift of choice]. And for heaven's sake, stay on the nice list!
#justmoveforward
Thanks for still sprinkling the crumbs my readers.
🪝Keep on reading. Angels may stumble but, my how they rise.
Living and breathing.
~ and all those endless nights.
Rare and driven
Somewhere beyond rational thought, in the deepest recess of your brain, you know as well as I do (if not better), just how good life can be once you manage to kick off those shackles. Turn your back on the memories, and walk towards the light.
This is not a group activity. When you are fighting your demons - real or imaginary, your human instinct is to SURVIVE. Once you've succeeded, the rest is easy. How many years of evolution has taught us that? The instinct to protect "life" comes built in. So let's move forward to thriving.
- Image credit: @PositiveBear (Pinterest)
Primal, not primitive.
In the desolate outskirts of a thriving town lay a lonely dump. A graveyard of forgotten memories and discarded dreams. Among the heaps of refuse, a young woman named Nina navigated her way through the twisted metal and decaying remnants of an otherwise, flourishing community. She, like the remnants around her, felt discarded and lost.
"So, this is where we disappear" she thought to herself.
Nina, unsure of herself and grappling with the weight of her own uncertainties, sought solace in the desolation of the dump. The air was thick with the stench of decay, and the flickering light from distant streetlamps barely penetrated the darkness.
Little did she know that this forsaken place would soon become the crucible that tested her mettle in ways she could never have imagined.
It was a moonless night, and as Nina wandered through the wreckage, a shadow emerged from the darkest corners of the dump. A figure, face obscured by the tattered remains of a hood, approached with a malevolent intent. In the stillness of the night, Nina sensed the danger but was paralyzed by fear.
The hooded assailant, brandishing a rusty blade, confronted Nina with a chilling grin. The silence was shattered by the malicious laughter that echoed through the abandoned wasteland. In that harrowing moment, Nina felt a surge of anger rising within her, a visceral reaction to the injustice of her situation.
Nina let her out a visceral howl of her own. The sound that escaped her was not a cry for help. It was a noise she would dream of afterwards, but never could repeat. It spoke of anger. It was no growl, it was too high pitched. It was the sound of panic. It was the scream of the helpless, it was a century old roar. It should have intimidated, it did not.
Without hesitation, she cast aside her uncertainty, drawing strength from the depth of her anger. The disappointment of her existence, the feeling of being discarded by life, transformed into a source of empowerment. The assailant lunged, but Nina, fueled by an unexpected courage, dodged the attack with a grace that surprised even herself.
In the dim light, a battle unfolded between Nina and the hooded assailant. The refuse-strewn battleground became a canvas for a struggle between despair and resilience. The pain was numbed by adrenaline, and Nina's eyes glowed with a fierce determination as she faced her would-be killer.
As they circled each other in the moonlit dump, Nina's anger crystallized into a mantra: "Not today." The makeshift weapon she found, a broken pipe discarded among the ruins, became an extension of her defiance against the darkness that sought to consume her.
In the midst of the fight, Nina's instincts took over. The clang of metal against metal, the harsh breaths echoing in the desolation, painted a picture of survival in the bleakest of settings. The hooded assailant, realizing that Nina was no ordinary victim, hesitated for the briefest moment, allowing her to seize control of the situation.
With a final, decisive blow, Nina disarmed her attacker. The hooded figure crumpled to the ground, the discarded mask revealing a face marked by disbelief. Nina, breathless but alive, stood over him, the broken pipe clutched tightly in her hands.
The dump, witness to the clash of despair and determination, seemed to exhale a collective breath. Nina, once uncertain and lost, emerged from the wreckage with a newfound strength. The lonely dump became the unlikely arena where she confronted her fears, transforming the discarded into the triumphant.
⨔Fin
Hidden chapters?
Why is it that the stories we never tell are all the really good stuff, we find in the attic, where we keep the Christmas tree and tinsel?
ㄟ( ▔, ▔ )ㄏ
Resigner 💜
Now go! Love it or hate it, you will find a way to deal with it. Wishing you the best [enter gift of choice]. And for heaven's sake, stay on the nice list!
#justmoveforward
Thanks for still sprinkling the crumbs my readers.
🪝Keep on reading. Angels may stumble but, my how they rise.
