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mellea-art-home · 1 month

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I am fear

I am run by nothing but fear

I do not risk

I risk it all

I endanger myself

My connections

And yet always am afraid

Running from connection

Yet I want to Breathe

I want to feel that warmth of connection long forgotten by a tired, scarred body

I want to share that warmth and love with another

I desire to see more of the world shared in hand with you

I desire to dance to the sun’s rise

I desire for the feeling of being restless through the night for a conversation that never started

There is much that I fear that makes one human

I do not see the world with brightness, and shun light

I do not see the world through eyes of love, and connection

My eyes are scarred

Tainted eyes

My body does not feel the touch of another as light

I feel a rush of my long past

Cold and alone

But mixed with a fearful warmth and desire for more

I desire to embrace more

I desire to feel, more

I desire for that rush to rid me of the cold hollow shell that plagues my veins

There is much beyond me

There is much behind me

There is forever more to life with others but yet I still fear

I fear because there is no other option

I fear because that is all I know

I fear because it is comfort

I seek comfort because I have nothing but fear

My comfort only seeps into me like a further plague

I repel all getting close

Close off all options beyond me

I do not seek more

I do nothing but seek more

I live in contradiction

And yet I never seem to contradict myself

I am everything yet nothing at once

I feel but it’s fleeting

I love deep but it’s shallow

I care much yet have little to care for

My life lives as a contradiction unto itself

Never finding peace but always searching

Nothing more follows each futile attempt on a stranded island

No life follows me

Yet all seek to be with me

I never found one

Yet many found me

I do not see

Yet I see all

I know little

Yet I know much

I do not love

Yet I love deep

But I poison all love

I contaminate it with desperation

I am desperate because I do not love

I do not love because I am desperate

I dont care

But yet I rush to help first

I am desperation living

I am lost

Yet I never lose my way

I am contradiction into myself forever repeating

I learn to love

Yet it never follows learned examples

I try harder

But yet never get higher

I do not escape

Yet live in escapism

I am chained to my mind

Yet I fly free in it

What is it I seek

What is it that I run for

What is my life if not contradiction

My desire to dance till morning light with you

My desire to never see you again

There is much to me,

Yet nothing is found when searching

How does one live?

Does one live?

What does one do to live

Can one live through a life of desperation

Can one live through a life of absence

Can one truly be happy if hollow

Can a hole be filled with nothing

Only trial can answer

But fear runs actions

And fear resents trial

Fear resents options

Fear resents change

Change is life

Then fear is the absence of life

Fear is the absence of choice

How does one beat fear

Can one beat fear

Nay…

Yay…

You argue fear is immutable

Yes

You argue it is not

Yes

Yet we sit here forever more in silence

Yet we debate in deafening silence

We fight with silent words and stiller movements

We live in absence

Yet surrounded by abundance

We never seek out

Yet are seeked out by others

We decide everything

Yet say nothing

Motion nothing

There is much that lives in contradiction in life

Love is pain

Pain is growth

Anger is healing

Healing is acceptance

Yet we never see the change

We only feel the change

But what is there to feel through anger?

Love

What is there to feel through fear?

Pain

What is to be gained from pain?

Growth

What is growth?

Life

What is change then?

It too is life

Then what is life?

Life is love

Pain

Fear

Excitement

Change

Life is change

Inconsistencies are life

Yet we seek stability?

We seek comfort

Why do we seek comfort?

We desire stability

Why do we seek stability?

We desire for safety

But what is unsafe of change?

Unknown

We fear the unknown

So we stop living

So we stop growing

We avoid pain

We avoid fear

Yet are run by nothing but

There is much we seek

Yet what we seek is contradiction

What we seek is change for stability

We seek contradiction for itself

We will always live contradictory lives

Embrace contradiction

Embrace life

Embrace change

Embrace pain

Love

Fear

And the life that brings through change

#writing #poetry #poem #mindless thoughts

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mellea-art-home · 3 months

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Mellea sending out some good energy for everyone.

#origonal work #fursona #traditional art #wip #origional character #furry #mellea

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mellea-art-home · 4 months

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My girl is back. Wanted to draw her again, and practice an environment, so big stretch for hot girl weekend.

#fursona #origonal work #traditional art #origional character #wip #furry #mellea

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mellea-art-home · 6 months

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Concept for a creature, based on an older drawing.

#origonal work #wip #origional character #digital art #horror #unnerving

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mellea-art-home · 6 months

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The East Road

I will warn you traveler, don’t walk the road east of the city at sunset towards the forest. You may laugh and doubt, but that way lies a reality I cannot fathom, I do not know why, or how it exists. By all laws of sanity and what is known it shouldn’t be there, but yet, if you dare walk that path the road will stretch, the lamps will stretch over the road like choking fingers and the houses will wane, the sky now dark and the moon a faint red will be all you see. The forest will never come, the end of that street will not come, but you will hear a call, an alert to get inside. Listen close traveler, do not enter any house, do not look behind you, do not run, walk forward, do not stop. I pray dear traveler that you are not cursed to see that which I have, keep walking and once you reach the bridge, Close Your Eyes. Do not open them, you will feel something behind you, never turn back. You will hear the alarm blare in your ears, do not turn. You must never trip, you must never turn back, you must never open your eyes. If you make it this far, you must hold your breath, and pray. Never open your eyes.

#short story #horror #creepy #original story

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mellea-art-home · 6 months

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I was lost, that fact was damn well known hours ago when I got here, well whatever, or wherever here was, a bunch of empty rooms, stale halls, and sickly air. I’ve seen places in areas that I cannot understand the placement of. That has been the least of my concerns. I have been choking on this stale brittle air, something that feels more like a plastic spoon than something you can breathe, like every breath is covering your lungs in something.

But it’s all to get away from whatever I saw, it is something I cannot begin to fathom how it exists, a tall dark figure, that seems to balance on thin toothpick like legs bent back and forth with an odd twitch with each step, and the head of an old tube tv that keeps playing static, intermittent with a blaring alert that echo down the open, dead passageways like a threat, reminding me of its power over me. I am hidden trying to regain my breath but that alert has been getting louder for the past minute, and I keep thinking I hear a ticking.

Time has passed, and I have found some kind of school, but it’s just halls, dull white halls, sickly fading yellow walls, and cold dead air. I feel the air biting at me, like a warning that I am not safe, and it is at that moment I hear the ticking, and a light tap following each tick, come from the hall behind me. I know I must move, and it takes all my strength to do so, down a side hall, or at least what I could think is one, I try to stay calm but the alert blares at an ear piercing volume down the solid walls, and I break out into a sprint, whether it was the safest option or not.

I don’t look back, as my blood runs as cold as the air, the ticking is getting louder, and much faster, no matter how many turns the sound from behind me gets closer. I run down another corner, and made the mistake of looking down the hall, I stop breathing in that moment, as the creature stands at the other end of the hall, the screen playing the noise of children laughing, and a distorted voice calls out, “Hide and seek is over now, we found you, he-he-he-he-”The voice started to get more distorted and covered by static before the creature started running.

#short story #horror #origonal work #unnerving

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mellea-art-home · 6 months

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Black Spire

I narrowly kept my life through the treacherous dangers that lead me here, a dead valley, neigh, it was a world unto itself, the dead raise of their own will, the sky a sickly orange, and clouds of dust blot out the sun. The rock and soil stained red, or a dull orange from the horrors of the blood spilled in these lands. The world has truly gone to hell, these are the only thoughts that can permeate my mind as I walk these damned plains towards my likely death. The only thing that can draw the eye in this vast open land was the cause of this nightmare, a black spire, it reached into the clouds, and a surface with uneven cleaving, like an imperfect diamond, its’ base and climbing most of the way up was a surrounding cathedral, tall towers leaning onto the hellish spire behind it, the rest of the building was sprawled out around the base of this spire, and climbing down the steep hill this structure sit upon.

The thin veins of the tower streaking down the sides looked like someone had let thin paint run down a canvas, the bricks seemingly wanting to match both the sickly sight of the land, and the spire that it was attached to, it was a dull brown from afar, the sun shining through clouds behind the structure that seemed to be a call to true hell. ‘Only the mad, or those who wish to die dare into those plains-’

‘You must want to die if you are going there!’

‘You’re insane, you know what you’ll find there, your own grave! You have nothing to gain, you’re just like the rest.’

‘What makes you think you’re so damn Special!’

The voices came to me as quick as the wind, all those who cursed at me, and shunned me for willing to sacrifice myself against this standing pillar of suffering and nightmares. There was never a belief, as all those who come here know their fate, and all think us mad forsaking our lives as if they are but a pebble, little else seems of worth for someone with nothing, so those of great valor who have lost all, and those of nothing who cannot hope for anything all walk the same path.

I walked with a rhythm from my steps and armor, past body upon body of felled soldier, I looked down upon them all, and they were all different, but all shared one truth, they had no master, and bore no allegiance. These were but people of honor, or little else left to their name and life to give. I saw armor torn open like paper, and half buried husks of what was once someone like me. I dare not utter a prayer, this is a land forsaken by all gods, and to only be given to those of sorrow and loss.

I set upon this path long before the decision was ever made by me, this was just the end for me, either by fate, gods, or some magnanimous other force, that I be laid to rest here, regardless of sorrow and grief upon this life I claim.

There I look up and have nearly met the base of my grave. I knew the fate of what comes by entering, but I knew I would not fall till I must collapse, as for all is lost, nothing is to lose. Even if I were to purge this land of this parasite, all who walk upon this land are cursed to it for eternity, so I merely raise my weapon and readied myself as I opened the door.

I leave this for all who come after, all who have vowed for their loss to venture here, be brave, brace against yourself, and stand tall for no allegiance, king, country, or god follows, you are greater unto yourself through this decision than all who damned you here.

#writing #writers on tumblr #origonal work #wip #concept story #short story

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mellea-art-home · 7 months

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#origonal work #wip #origional character #digital art #mouse art #magical girl

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mellea-art-home · 7 months

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Digital Tracing and coloring of my Magical Girl character Belen

#origonal work #wip #origional character #digital arwork #digital art #magical girl

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mellea-art-home · 7 months

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Magical Girl Character design, Belen (Bel) - She/Her

Inspired by Modoka Magica

#magical girl #origonal work #traditional art #ink art #origional character #modoka magica

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mellea-art-home · 7 months

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Pt. 1

This I write as the last words to be heard by my hand, and to attest to the atrocities of which I have bore witness to. I must be clear, no answers will come to you, or comfort learning what I have seen and know now. I was damned long before taking that job researching things that man had best left alone. But to get to explaining what happened we must understand who I am, god I must be honest, I am but a shell of a man, let alone far and away from the same person I was where this story starts us.

I had grown up in a small everybody knows everybody town in New England, quaint idyllic life for most people nowadays. I had been raised in a relatively religious household, little more than Easter church, and prayer before meals as a young lad. I had a fascination with religions, and mythologies, going through from Greek, to Norse, and even some Eastern mythologies where I could find content in my small town library.

This led me to being enamored in learning about the bizarre and occult secrets like Paganism in my mid-teens, familiarizing myself with all the little details, I guess this is also how my desire for being a historian started. I worked hard through my teens, always the odd one, somewhere between the school nerd, and goth, both envied and hated, and now only one of those may be true for those who know me, knew feels more apt after that last job.

The ostracizing never really was a concern for me, as much as it was my parents, but given my performance in school being near top of the school by graduation, they never seemed to approach me about their concerns directly, but I could hear them talking through the walls at night. They did congratulate me soon after graduation when I had managed to get a scholarship into a quite prestigious college for a major in history.

And this is where my life started proper, I had to move a number of hours away, and lived in a dorm with three other students. We managed to get along quite well given all of us seemed to be out of state, and in different courses, one was in music, one business, and another in forensics. We managed to become drinking buddies at the frat parties that were hosted around, even getting into young trouble by dipping into the local bars, and on more than one occasion banned for upwards of a month.

All this to say get to where things properly start, with the professor for history, a man at the time was quite young compared to the other professors in the school, it felt like night and day between him and the teacher next door, one side with a late thirties man, well kept dark hair and quite the surprising energy about him, and the other side a man who seemed to have more hair on his thin arms than his head. The history teacher was Dr. Myard Hammond, he was an expert in the esoteric, and less savory details of history, human, and as I came to find out, inhuman knowledge.

Given my passion and striking fondness for the subject I spent many off periods throughout the first two years discussing the very macabre and obscure histories of the world, including religions on their societies.

It wasn’t until my second year, December had fallen and we were just about a week out from Christmas break, the students were either taking Midterms or burning out from them, so the bars were quite alive that night, I was out with my roommates and as the lot of them talk about heading back for the night. They all had their various reasons between their own tests coming up, or lack of sleep biting at them for proper repose they left.

I stayed seated at the booth, finishing my drink, figuring that if nothing else I should also get some repose, burning myself to finish a few classes worth of studying for a number of overlapping test days ahead. I had just about finished when looking up I saw Dr. Hammond enter, the only tell the door was opened was a quick biting wind from the frosty air outside, the place was too lively and loud to hear the small bell above the door ring.

I motioned him over as he looked around, and I noticed that even under his large coat, he was a disheveled man, I could see the bags under his eyes, unkempt hair, wrinkled dress shirt poking out the bottom untucked. He seemed skittish, surprised someone would recognise him almost, and I soon came to find out why once he tentatively sat down, confirming nobody else was coming back to sit there. He ended up getting some strong liquor and kept looking into his glass most of the while.

I by this point was at least mostly intoxicated, with some wits still about me, asked jovially of his day, unaware of his tense nature.

He mumbled to himself some, then looked up at me, and even through the alcohol I saw the eyes of a desperate man, he was half the man I saw just a day before, and when he spoke all the energy that had been so pervasive through all his classes was now gone, he made no sense at the time, talking of some place he called the ‘sunken city’. I pressed if he was talking of Atlantis, and what that has to do with anything.

He had slapped his hand on the table, just barely shaking the drinks and said, ‘God damn, I know Atlantis, but where, by the Dead Gods Where! They have been found from the deep Amazon, to the deep Sahara, where did you slimy Bastards hide the last key.’ his voice was unusually sharp, and edged, and seemed to be talking to himself more than me.

#origonal work #wip #origional character #writing #writers on tumblr #cosmic horror

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mellea-art-home · 7 months

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The sea of reality

Far and away this world is a small beach of sanity. I cannot fathom breaching that edge, and stepping into the great sea, god damn what am I saying… there is nothing ‘great’ about that damned sea. I dare not even look up at that sky at night, what god dare claim mercy and love to all, and yet create that sea. I have stepped fully into that briny freezing water, and never realized until I was dragged down and forced to see all that lay beyond our own shore.

By god the horrors of hell shan’t scrape at me if that’s the waking world. I was merely an over zealous researcher, should have never started that job, I was damned the moment I was recruited. To hell with those people, I don’t even know what’s left after the accident, the lab must be either incomprehensible, or beyond repair of any information being retrieved… good, that place is no sanctuary of knowledge, forbidden things, forgotten gods, men of more than what can be described with the limitations of godly script. The rotting gods at the edge of all that is, and was, their decaying corpses being a mere moment from wiping out half of what we see in the sky.

The light of galaxies staring like eyes upon my back, and yet still I cannot tell if they judge me, or simply cannot see me, just looking forever with dead eyes into the ether. I used to say progress was my goal, to explore that which has never been touched, but maybe the limitations of what we are were protections from these entities, masses which move and flicker like a candle flame in wind through our reality and out into the infinite black sea of tar, a writhing, breathing mass of a sea beyond which we can never hope to see, let alone understand. We pray for safety at night, and forgiveness for our sins, but no god can wipe the horrors from my mind, which wrap me up in a suffocating blanket as I fall deeper into madness.

One may ask, surely your career experience should have awarded some inclination as to the dangers of that job. And by all lines and lies I was aware, but never to this extreme, I never was truly aware of how much we danced upon that knife edge of our world, and once we tripped, all was lost. All those now dead and damned for trying to reach god's domain, but now I only ask… which god.

#origonal work #wip #writing #cosmic horror

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mellea-art-home · 7 months

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