|Because you love me and I have quality work? Hahahha what lies am I speaking|
The Weight Of Living (1/?)The pale rays of sunlight were fading fast.The Weight Of Living (1/?) by xoSoul
Cy dropped her pack, releasing a long breath of air through the filters of her gas mask. Scanning the horizon, she looked around for somewhere to camp for the night.
Hotels weren't easy to come by when World War III had nuked everything. Only post-apocalyptic wastelands remained.
She spotted an outcropping of debris not too far off that she could camp comfortably behind. Shouldering her pack once more, she trudged towards it. Her stomach rumbled, loud in the deserted area. It was nothing uncommon, her being hungry. Her emaciated form showed that, though this amount of undereating was the worst in a long time. Her food supply was running low, with only a single can of soup and a limited number of stale crackers left. She'd been saving them as long as possible; the last time she'd eaten was approaching to three days. Her energy and hope were fading fast, and if she didn't find somewhere or something to raid soon, she would starve to deat
It's `OfOneSoul now!That's right, you guys!It's `OfOneSoul now! by OfOneSoul
I got TICKED OFF!
Some of you may be wondering
how exactly being ticked off
would make me so fucking happy...
So - allow me to enlighten you
on what it is to be a Senior of dA
& how to become a Senior!
Senior Members of deviantART are selected by the Director of Community Operations (fourteenthstar), after reviewing suggestions made by the community with other full time deviantART Staff. Announcements are made on a quarterly basis and during special, celebratory events such as our birthday.
So what does it take to become a Senior? That's a question many have asked and have never really been able to get a straight answer on. Some have gained Seniority as a thank you for their time spent as a Volunteer, or to recognize their contribution to a particular project or collaborative action. Some have gained Sen
Dear Teen MeDear Adolescent Self,Dear Teen Me by Horace-Bulregard
I know, everything sucks and you don't want to hear from some lame-ass old person. Lame-ass old people try to tell you things like this all the time, but they're just stupid old people that can't possibly understand. You don't respect me because I'm not in a band, I don't have black hair, and I don't look awesome. I don't write screamey songs that speak to your weasley black soul, nor am I Tim Burton or Freddie Mercury. I get it, past self. I get it. Frankly, I don't want to hear things from me either most of the time. As lame as I may be, just hear me out for a minute.
There's this thing you should really, really try, and it's called being happy. No, I'm not high. Yes, this is really quite terrible and hokey. Shut up and stop judging me for a minute, I'm trying to help you, you little twonk. Also, start thinking of absurd insults now, it will help you in the long run.
As I was SAYING, you spend far too much time and effort on being miserable. Part of it is the ho
quirks.when i was a child:colbalt-rain
i loved to steal.
i would go around my neighborhood
and steal lawn ornaments.
at daycare, i would steal money
once, i stole my next door neighbor’s
when my parents confronted me,
the lie was smooth and solid:
i saw so-and-so take it.
when i was a child:
i loved to lie.
i would make up stories
to get reactions out of people.
to see if they’d believe me.
once, i convinced my friend charlotte
that i had twenty-four hours to live.
when she burst into tears,
i had to bite my tongue
to keep from laughing.
when i was a child:
i loved animals.
i would lock my dog in the closet
and in the bathroom.
a lot of my neighbors left birdcages out
during the day
so i set all of the birds free.
once, i imagined what it would be like
to kill an animal.
then, i imagined what it would be like
to run over it repeatedly
with a car
so i did it with my scooter
to a rose i found
because it was red
when i was a
the aftermaththe temple of her body was torn open tonight,MisfitableGrae
desecrated and lit on fire. i swear, gods have burned
and felt less pain than i do as i write these words down,
because she’s crying in my bathroom right now and i have
to go and convince her that the handful of feathers
i have left in my palms could ever equal the wings he snipped
off of her tonight. she will never fly again. she will never
believe so wholly in herself again. her body is no longer
a temple, her body is a landmine, an open wound, a thousand
foot drop off of a bridge, a stranger to her. she will never
again be able to trust her body, to know her body.
this is not the first poem i’ve written about rape. but this is
the first poem i’ve written about rape when my hands
are shaking and i have a twenty second phone call still ringing
in my ears. it’s not about statistics anymore. i cannot
distance myself from the cold, hard facts by using pretty
metaphors about dissolving and beginning anymore
because a gi
8 Things I Learned Before I Turned Sixteen1. you are stronger than you thinkMisfitableGrae
and when you tell other people this,
do not be offended when they start talking about muscle mass.
they will not understand until they wake up
one day and are disappointed to find themselves
2. reading books about thin people
doesn’t make you thin
just like writing poems about happiness
doesn’t make you happy.
3. make new year’s resolutions. even if you know
they won’t last longer than the shower
you make them in, do it anyways because
you’ll love the idea of the person you were
washing off of you with the dirt.
4. you’re going to fall head over heels
over ankles over fingers in love with a boy.
this does not mean that you have any right
to keep him.
5. someone won’t always be there to tell you,
“hey, good job on getting out of bed today.
good job on going to school and doing your homework.
good job on surviving today.”
but good job anyways.
6. change your hair color. change your s
read this when you're so angry you shakelittle drops of oil make rainbows on wet concreteMisfitableGrae
and i don’t know how beautiful you find that,
but sometimes you gotta learn that
the littlest things are the prettiest,
like the shape of your fingernails and the crinkles
you get at the corner of your eyes when you laugh and
when you grow old and i know i said “grow old”
like it’s a temporary thing, but that’s because it is.
you can think it’s forever but it’s really
a split second because you don’t matter, not when
the universe is still growing and speeding through a nothingness
we can’t even fathom, not when color doesn’t exist in space
but nebulas still explode in shades of gold and green,
not when there are stars who die
before their light ever touches our faces. you don’t matter,
not to anyone but the people who have fallen in love
with the way you walk and the way you breathe
and the way you keep doing both.
i don’t care that the universe is spinning and grow
benev(i)olentcaught the higher arc-nawkaman
[you folded into space waves
as they rushed and receded
never kiss never on the lips
because the past is presently
reappearing, climbing the horizon
in a flat glow. in a fat growl
I say the darnedest things, like four-lettered
words. like once when love left dark spot
s in my vision
and I built around the columns I imagined;
felt the sky fall down around my shoulders
I write Fanfictions, too! (click here!) |
Right now I have Harvest Moon, and the always amazing Romantically Apocalyptic!... But I'm planning to expand!
Current Residence: CANADA
Favourite genre of music: Various, mostly Rock and Alternative
Favourite photographer: Once more, too many!
Favourite style of art: Traditional art, poetry, and photography
MP3 player of choice: iPod
Shell of choice: Bullet please
Skin of choice: Slightly bruised
Favourite Quote: "Just because we do bad things does not mean we are bad people.”