Dmitri Ryre; District 3 [finished]

chelsey
District Mayor

[M:-650]

728 POSTS
Pronouns: she/her
last seen Jul 2, 2016 17:22:46 GMT -5

queen of inactivity

Dmitri Ryre; District 3 [finished] Sept 5, 2012 20:03:08 GMT -5

Post by chelsey on Sept 5, 2012 20:03:08 GMT -5

Name:
Age: 18
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 3
Appearance:

Personality:

Magical Mystery Tour by The Beatles

Psychedelic. Probably a hippie in a past life. Sees the universe through kaleidoscope eyes yeah who cares if that's in a different album oh well. Lost in a reality that isn't at all real. Speaks to figments of his/her imagination, all the while knowing it's all in the head. Knows the boundary between mind and matter but crosses over it anyway. Sees the world in thousands of different colors, and thinks he/she can hear stories and songs in the wind. Drowns in hallucinations without realizing he/she's drowning. Knows more than people think he/she knows, understands the world better from observing from afar, possesses innate wisdom and knowledge - but never shows it cause knowledge comes at a price. Likes spending days laying on roof tops and watching the sky melt from blue to orange to purple to black. Doesn't speak unless she/he has something important to say, and will talk to anyone who'll listen when he/she feels like talking - "All you need is love, and love is all you need. 'S that simple sweetheart." He/she doesn't get people, but he/she gets the world and the flow of things and thinks that's all that really matters.

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]History:

AN ORPHAN. LIVES IN THE ATTIC OF SOMEONE'S HOME. DOES DRUGS A LITTLE BIT ~~SHHH~~ AND LIVES LIFE WITH NO WORRIES HAKUNA MATATA BRUH

Codeword: odair
Comments/Other:

MATTA'S ALBUM PLOT WOOT

Last Edit: Jun 20, 2013 3:07:54 GMT -5 by chelsey

"Isn't this the point of being young?"

^ bless avalon's soul ^

chelsey
District Mayor

[M:-650]

728 POSTS
Pronouns: she/her
last seen Jul 2, 2016 17:22:46 GMT -5

queen of inactivity

Dmitri Ryre; District 3 [finished] Jun 17, 2013 15:45:14 GMT -5

Post by chelsey on Jun 17, 2013 15:45:14 GMT -5

D M I T R I R Y R E
DISTRICT3 | EIGHTEEN | MALE
_____

"Nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy.
All you need is love. All you need is love.
All you need is love, love. Love is all you need."

Someone once told me there are only two types of people: the ones who will look out the window, and the ones who will break through it.

I didn't need that someone to tell me which type of person I am.

When I was a baby, I was abandoned by the side of a road, and I think that's why I can never stop running, because I'll never know my destination. At night, I can still hear the wind even with my windows closed, and I wonder if they - my parents - can hear it too. I don't remember them, but I imagine them as young and full of life. I would inherit my father's dark hair and dark eyes, and my mother's lanky structure and lean lips. My mother would wear white flowers in her hair and my father had a scar on his neck from the time he crashed his bike into a tree when he was fifteen. The reason why he crashed was because he saw her, and, Damn, he had thought, as he watched her laugh with the golden sun cascading down her, Is she beautiful. When she asked if he was alright, she laughed, and all he wanted to do was crash into thousands of more trees and fall flat on his back each time if it meant he could hear her laugh again. When a bump appeared on her stomach when she was seventeen, he told her he loved her for the first time. She told him her parents were gonna kill them both. He told her they'd run away together. And, apparently, that did not include running away with me.

A baby's dead weight, I suppose. They loved each other more than they loved me, but, when they left me on the side of the road for someone else to find, my mother would've picked a flower of the many she wore in her hair and put it in my hands. My father would have kissed my forehead and tucked my blanket closer to my chin. They would have placed me gently on the ground. They would have walked away feeling lighter.

I wonder if they reached their destination yet.

But, pity isn't a destination I'm running towards to - I am a man sprinting towards wonder with my arms wide open, and so when I wonder about my parents, the sting stings a little less and less until there is no sting at all.

Reality is a burden too heavy to bear, yet we are all Atlases perched upon the tip of a mountain, with the sky's weight upon our shoulders, which we could not get rid of no matter how hard we tried. But, there are two kinds of people - the ones who will mutter their breaths away complaining about it's weight, and the ones who will look up into the sky and see something else.

The world isn't a dangerous place, but the people in it are. Violence outweighs love, here, and that is the equation that needs to be recalculated. When I watch sunsets (when I watch the haze of a flickering light subsiding to the raw colors of yellow, orange, red, and, eventually, black) I don't see the blood that paints the grounds of this town red, I see beauty, and, I think if more people stopped to see that, too, our equation would be resolved.

There is a girl who lives in the house I live in. She is the daughter of the man who let me live in his attic. When she smiles, my chest burns with the definition of beauty, and when she asks me questions, my throat clogs with the happiness of a deaf man who has heard for the first time. She is the girl I would I run into thousands of trees for and fall flat on my back each time if it meant I could make her laugh. After our curfew, I lead her up the fire escape outside my window and to the rooftop of her house. We lie down there in blankets, smoking cigarettes, until the sun rises or sleep succumbs upon us. When she falls asleep on my shoulder, and I am left with my thoughts and burnt out butts of cigarettes, I see her and think she is the solution to the world's equation.

I'm telling you now, there are only two types of people: the ones who have a destination, and the ones who don't. If I were to ever have a destination, however, I am sure it would be with her.

Last Edit: Jan 6, 2014 5:25:02 GMT -5 by chelsey

"Isn't this the point of being young?"

^ bless avalon's soul ^

chelsey District Mayor [M:-650] 728 POSTS Pronouns: she/her last seen Jul 2, 2016 17:22:46 GMT -5 queen of inactivity	Dmitri Ryre; District 3 [finished] Jun 20, 2013 3:08:32 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by chelsey on Jun 20, 2013 3:08:32 GMT -5 after almost a year I'm done? that went by quick.
	"Isn't this the point of being young?" ^ bless avalon's soul ^

Tattletale Retired Staff [M:3040] 488 POSTS last seen Dec 19, 2014 11:56:13 GMT -5 hi um\????	Dmitri Ryre; District 3 [finished] Jun 20, 2013 4:19:53 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Tattletale on Jun 20, 2013 4:19:53 GMT -5 HI BBY UR PERFECT
	I. THE WILD YOUTH