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When I was 5 years old I thought the Smurfs lived in my bathtub drain. Now, at 33, I know that wasn't the case. 

That little fact makes me question so much about life. For so long, the Smurfs living in that drain was, for me, a certainty. So, when is it exactly that we realize that other things we know as fact become fiction?
7 years

www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Tkdwg…
www.youtube.com/watch?v=aGWpys…

So good.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZtUjF…
Who the fuck knows?

It has been ages.
I'd really like to write again.
I feel like I have lost a huge part of who I am.
I have become this quiet little girl that is too fucking shy to do so much as LOOK UP.
Whennnnn the fuck did shit happen?
Seriously?
This is who I am going to be for the rest of my life?
I can't.
Sorry, current life. No Can Do.

I was reading through some of my favorite galleries and I saw comments I had written,
it was like I had never been that person.
I had no memory At All of writing some of it.
Same with my gallery.
It was like I was possessed.
Or maybe I'm possessed now.
By some hideous boring fucking
old lady.

Ugh.

I have to find myself again.
It's been fun but I think I am going to have to say farewell to deviantART. It's just not what it used to be.

Thanks everyone who's been kind. If we are friends then you know where to find me, if not, take care!

:heart:
I do base whether or not I watch you on whether or not I find you attractive.



No, seriously.
  • Drinking: coffee
On nights the sky brings the trees a red glow,

these are the nights I think of you.

Late January skies that scream

a remembrance of mid-October,

it's this cry that floods my mind

with you.
  • Drinking: coffee
I have featured her work countless times. She is an amazing writer that is SO underappreciated. Go read her work, fave it, add her...feature her as well. She deserves it. :heart:


:iconmiseria-cantare:


Mature Content




FreakI never did really make the discovery I needed.
I did not dive into the Egyptian tombs of tomorrow
and unearth the cataclysmic mysteries
of you and I, and all our failure.
The subways go underground.
The sewers go underground.
The dead go underground.
Which adventurer am I, that I was not brave enough to face you?
That I was honest enough to hate you?
The hatred in your eyes burns like that fire
of my Indian ancestors and their colored feathers,
war paint signifying their spiritual rank.
I have a cross shaped scar on my inside thigh
that you licked and tickled.
Oh, it was just the sedatives
that took the burn sensation away.
Because I know you cannot look upon holy things
such as crucifixes and my cunt
and its sacrificial drippings,
because you are without doubt the Devil.
Who has mangled this memory, you or me?
What story untold is hidden under so many bed sheets,
what story, with its hardcover sticking deep in my shoulder
so that I cannot sleep?
I promised myself I would never say "I


Elegy for OberonI said goodbye to you on sad gray boat,
stepping away to let it sink.
I can do without
my Magic little pistol, the "Oberon,"
arrogant metal scraps
that bloomed on impact,
plunging to the depths of my body.
Soon you'll be lost for certain,
the curtain closing on the romance of the century,
modern-day Shakespearian poetry.
Still you don't see.
You barely breathe.
Midsummer romance tempts the faint-hearted,
downing their cough syrup shots,
thick and purple,
saying, "Just one more."
The barman toasts the departed.
The district is lit with murky half light and the lies,
street lamps swaying with vamps saying
their names, "Lady Jane" and "Harmony,"
moths like fairies carrying their plight to me.
Titania, their lampost, sighs.
Searching through that forest of iron,
twisted metal trees
set on a stage for me.
I am the cat flitting between them.
I rest atop the tallest,
awaiting my fall,
surveying my audience,
pushing the curtain call.
But I land on my feet after all.
I cannot fight what nature
- I will just comment on this piece briefly by saying, I think it's the best piece of writing I have read on deviantArt, and possibly anywhere else.
  • Eating: nothing white for a month
  • Drinking: coffee
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_345t…
  • Drinking: Watah
www.youtube.com/watch?v=f4sXgF…

So, if you don't watch so you think you can dance, no big deal, this season is shit anyway. BUTTTT this piece was sick. So watch it, fuckers.
  • Drinking: Watah
So, I was browsing through the forums (which I never do) and I saw a post about a Deviant Meet in the Boston area. It was just an idea another deviant from the city through out. No one had responded...so naturally I thought I would :)

I know I watch a number of artists from Ma. so, if you see this journal and would like to set something up let me know!! We could set up a big dinner for chats, drinks and apps or I could see about renting out a hall somewhere that you could display your art!!

I don't know! Let me know what you think, please.

:heart:

----------- EDIT ----------

So I was just browsing the site and the writing that seems to be popular is...well let's just call it...sub-fucking-par.

I am going to start writing shit little sentences and see where it takes me. Cause apparently it's what everyone here seems to think "good writing" is.

I watch writers because they put out quality fucking work. Deviants like :iconinnocencedivine:, :iconmiseria-cantare:, :icontheafterwhys:, and :iconmaimtorturekill:...now THOSE are amazing writers...THAT is amazing work. It's so disheartening to see the shit quality work being put out and the amount of faves and comments ("wow this is amazing!!" *insert gay fucking emoticon here*) it all gets. These people DO have some good writing in their galleries, don't get me wrong, but just because they wrote one good piece doesn't mean they shit gold....just sayin.

Done ranting. Enjoy your Thanksgiving all you Americans!!
  • Drinking: Watah
I am missing the days photos were taking during Nuclear Seasons and words were written in Innocence Divine.
I miss the days when waking up meant cyber-peeping into people lives through way of art.
I miss the days when DA was more than just a shoutbox and more than a place to tweet your bullshit.
Everyday isn't write a little ditty day.
Not every picture you take is upload worthy.

Take heed, dear friends, the days of unknown deviant greatness is over.

Welcome Deviantspace/Book/fuckingtwitter.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5J4NDZ…

Love it.
Anyone wanna play around with this?...

There are times when I shatter.
My pieces become so much less
than the whole of me.
Shards fly away like paper planes
and paper hearts.
Left over sighs and teary eyes.
Fallen angel's wings
left for the damned.

- they are left for me -

And you pick me up
one sliver of flesh at a time.
You piece me back together.
Every time missing something
else.
Every time missing someone
else.

A memory or a feeling
                                lost.
One side of my crooked smile
                                           gone.
And you find a way to keep me.
You always find a way to keep me
                                                 together.

Whispering a tiny piece of yourself.
Stitching up my doe eyes.
Kisses that complete a quiet mouth.
Finger tips on fingertips.
- lingering -
Fixing me.
Keeping me.
Locking my missing pieces
into your heart.
Thanks to everyone. :heart:
My Mum passed away today.
Tonight and The Rest of My Life

Down to the earth I fell,
With dripping wings. Heavy things won't fly.
And the sky might catch on fire.
And burn the axis of the world, that's why
I prefer a sunless sky, to the glittering and stinging in my eyes.

CHORUS
Oh I feel so light.
This is all I want to feel tonight.
Oh I feel so light.
Tonight and the rest of my life.

Gleaming in the dark sea,
I'm as light as air
Floating there breathlessly.
When the dream dissolves I open up my eyes,
I realize that everything is shoreless sea.
Weightlessness is passing over me.

Oh I feel so light.
This is all I want to feel tonight.
Oh I feel so light.
Tonight and the rest of my life.
Tonight and the rest of my life.

Everything is waves and stars.
The universe is resting in my arms.
I feel so light.
This is all I want to feel tonight
I feel so light.
Tonight and the rest of my life.

Oh I feel so light.
This is all I want to feel tonight.
Oh I feel so light.
Tonight and the rest of my life.
Tonight and the rest of my life.
I can't stop listening to Gravity by Sara Bareilles.



Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone.

You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain.

[CHORUS:]
Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.

You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.
When I thought that I was strong.
But you touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone.

[CHORUS]

I live here on my knees as I try to make you see that you're everything I think I need here on
The ground.
But you're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down

Keeping me down

You're on to me, on to me
and all over...

Something always brings me back to you
it never takes too long