June 13th, 2008 at 08:21pm
The detail described in this is so perfect, and the emotion in it is so realistic. Like i just don't even know how to describe it. There's so many emotions in it, and they're all so realistic. And it's so eerie and romantic at the same time.
it gets you thinking and wondering, and keeps sucking you in all at once. I can tell why it would take so long to spill out. But it was so well worth it.
Favourite Line;
My, my, my doll. All, all mine. No-one touch, love this piece of this stitched-up affection and sand-paper eyes.
It's my new favourite, seriously. :arms:
And, thank you for the mention.
:arms: :arms:
We all have our dolls.
Perfect, lovable and scarily breakable.
Guess who's his? That is a PERFECT summary. I mean it, and damn you're proving me wrong. And it doesn't state who is his. I'm guessing it's a Frerard, but you create some hint of mystery immediately :cute:
Everywhere I'd trudge these unlasting grounds and rainbow horizons I'd see them.
Dolls. This is a great opening line. I'm quite anxious about reviewing this as it's a completely different writing style to anything I've reviewed before. It's great. But anyway, to me, this suggests some trace of mental unstability? Something that the reader won't be able to relate to in any case at first, thus making it seem odd and stand out more :cute: If that makes sense.
Pretty, light air-headed plastic fleshless perfection walking on legs, carrying those glossy dead eyes. Some people would say this entire paragraph is a bit tedious to read with an overload of descriptive words. I disagree with those fictional people and think it's amazing. Remind me to read more of your stories if you describe like this.
skeleton grins Again, to me, the contrast between "perfection walking on legs," and "skeleton grins" suggests that the person narrating the story is intrigued but terrified in the same measure by these images. It's quite scary, the way you describe them in such different ways. It creates a disturbing image which compelled me to read on :cute:
The one laying asleep at home terrified me the most; how it sits still in its reside all day motionless... I'm not sure if you intended to change tenses in this paragraph. It confused me a little, the way you went from past to present. But if you did, just ignore me :cute:
Bert was my doll; my favorite odd plaything; and I was more than fine with that. Oooh, it's not a Frerard! And this line is really, really effective. Does Bert consent to this role? Or is the person in question using him to his own will? So many questions! You have a great knack for keeping the reader mystified as to what's about to happen, but intrigued by the descriptions and overall quality. Well done :cute:
The next few lines are amazing :cheese: I know it sounds really like I'm sucking up to you, but your imagery and talent all mingles to create these fantastic paragraphs. They're a little confusing with all the contrasting verbs and even complex vocabulary, but that just made me more determined to read on.
Boys like us -not him- cherished our lovable acid drinking dolls; throatless, unable to speak, only to kiss. I think that the reader can draw their own conclusion from your story in a way. This suggests to me that the "owner" of the doll is taking advantage of a binge drinker. Possessive and loving and potentially dangerous is what it suggests to me. It's fantastic the way you've made me come up with this summary without even mentioning violence.
Cherry, cherry, scarlet carmine lips would kiss my cheeks but at night, powder blanch lips took over the show.
Magenta lips were amputated and tossed in the exile of the room then I'd see his hands... submerged in deathly doused rouge clots. Just :cheese: :shock: :omfg: Holy cow Fatma!!! This description, it's so vivid, so intense! It's amazing!
Maybe at the end they're toying with us. You're adding in interesting insights. Does this suggests that the narrator feels used by his "doll"? Impending doom maybe?
His dead glassy blues closed and closed as his ribs collapsed trapping his heart -strapped to mine- under the flanges of each rib, syringe-sharp rums bursting shivers and venom beneath his breaths. I cannot tell you exactly how this line made me feel. It made me sad, it made me angry. It made me feel empathy for the character in your story. I'm not kidding, I have rarely felt this much empathy when reading stories. You're certainly a talented writer, Gerard :tehe:
I loved this story, a hell of a lot. And I WILL read more from you :weird