This is Demondoll.
This community has been around for two years now, but as you've all noticed. It's pretty damn DEAD. And not in a good way.
I have to admit that that is my own fault. I've been too controlley. I originally made this community somewhat closed (i.e. members had to email me to get in) because I was afraid that if I didn't, the community would be overrun by crazies or Asian-fetishists (y'know the kind of people who dress up as Anime characters or samurais and want to find a Japanese girlfriend), and there would be total chaos.
But I've been thinking that I was wrong. I should be more open. As of now, this community is open; you no longer need my permission to join. I'm going to trust the universe and open it up to the world. Let's hope it does NOT come to ruin because of this. Don't worry: there will still be rules, just more relaxed ones.
I am still your moderator. So, if anything goes amiss, and there is too much spam or trolling, please contact me and let me know. And I will try to resolve it.
Im not asiangoth but i am in asia at the moment for work and am a goth. any goths in china(near shanghai)?
Happy New Year!!!!
As the new year blossoms, may the journey of your life be fragrant with new opportunities, your days be bright with new hopes and your heart be happy with love!
Eid Mubarak for those of you who celebrate!
I've been good this year, and haven't tried to feed any of my Muslim friends any food during Ramadan. :-)
Hello, I joined this community because I consider myself half Asian. My mother is Turkish. I believe Turkey is in Asia not Europe. Check the world map and it always shows Turkey as being in Asia. Turkish culture is not unique. The foods are borrowed from Greece, India, Lebanon, Iraq, Pakistan, Iran and Armenia. Shish Kebabs from Iran, Hummus from Greece, Shakarpares from India, Falafel from Lebanon and so on. I am learning the Turkish language as I was brought up with Spanish and English. I live in Panama. I have visited Turkey a few times.
She blinks until the smoky reflections start to swirl and puff around, morphing into a cobra’s hood, as it chases her around the ceiling. She blinks until the objects before her liquidize into salty mercury and bounce off her skin as if repelled by the pores of pride and youth. She blinks and suddenly is in another dimension with peppercorn irises and tamarind lips, her roots sunken deep in the ground, mothering parched veins suckling on earth, cradled by foliage, its sickening moisture slowly turning into oxygen.
Again, she blinks and lies still, frozen still. She is now preserved, immortal, her capillaries expanded, her eyes gleaming, breeding light that bounces off with the brilliance of a falling star, her sensation slowly fading as the dusk feasts on the useless messengers of the Golden God.
Again, she tries to blink, forgetting about the icy comfort that felt absolute just moments ago, and starts to panic. She tries to move, but all she creates are translucent webs in the unbreakable air that surrounds that petrified expression. And slowly, a clique of terror reduces the hollow cavities that hide within the vastness of her face into peppercorns, yet again.
She is nothing but a waxy self-portrait.
By a five year old.