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MEETINGSThe room was full of people I didn't know. And this was getting seriously unconfortable... On my behalf, at least. I hate these get-togethers my parents are so keen on. I was only trying to find in which table I was supposed to sit. That's another thing! Why the hell can't I sit next to my parents? I'm not the one who wants to socialise! "I'm never getting dragged to this kind of thing again." I grunted.
Table, after table, I was going from one way to another across the room intending to find my place and glue myself to the seat for the rest of the night. "Aha!" I finally spotted my name. Rushing there, I started wondering until when I had to stay there... I sat down on the empty table and glanced at the names of the people who would sit beside me. 'Ryan Harlow'... Never heard of him. I looked to my other side. 'Olivia Matthews' Oh. God. Why. My parents had presented me to the woman earlier. She was such a pain! Always talking gibberish, asking thing
EMPTYI woke up feeling empty, missing something I quite never had.
I got up and carried on with my day wishing for something that didn't make me feel empty but I couldn't think of anything so I gave up. I tried to focus on something else and it worked.
I was happy for the time being but the world seemed to decide that I shouldn't be: insecure as alway, I only needed a few words to eat me up from the inside out. I had been feeling alright, and even daring to like myself a bit more than usual, and any other day, I'd probably laugh it off and push it to the back of my mind to be ignored or forgotten. Today I couldn't do it, and now... now, all I said and felt before means nothing to me. I'm hating myself.
They say 'I can't believe you're always demeaning yourself!'. Well, I can. If everyone else does, why should I believe myself better than whom they see?
I keep going on with my day feeling emptier than before, and now I can't help but focus on that feeling.
I eventually went to bed earl
Long time no see... (fic)
Abigail had gone out of the Academy not as early as she wished. It was the beginning of the weekend and she wanted to get lots of things done. She wandered around the island from shop to shop gathering the things she needed: school supplies that were running short, ingredients for some potions, and get a present for Delilah's upcoming birthday... She had come out of the apothecary full of bags with herbs that should be stored as quickly as possible. Maybe I should go back to the dorm, store this, - she checked the time - and have lunch. After lunch I can come back... And with that in mind she started her way back.
One of the good things the island had, in Abigail's opinion was that everyone knew each other, from inside and outside the Academy. But right now she cursed her bad luck as she saw a familiar face asking for directions to one of the inhabitants of Tea Island. The man was surely telling him how to get to the school grounds... And now he's pointing in my direct
ONCE UPON A TIME"Once upon a time there was a little girl.
This little girl was like many others... Had family, friends and dreams.
This little girl lived happily through every day.
One day, she grew up.
One day, everything changed."
"Yeah, yeah..." She said not too sure what she answered to. Lazily, she got upstairs and locked herself in her room. The dim light reflected her figure on the mirror across the room. It looks like I'm looking to a stranger. The hard truth was she was no longer a little girl and people had expectations. Too high, for my liking. Her parents have expectations.
She walked to her bed and sat down... Being eighteen is too much of a pain in the ass. As she glanced to the pile of homework to do and notes to study, she decided to leave it to the next day. She lied down and intently watched the ceiling: it was full of the drawings she had done through the years... Why the ceiling? Well, the wall
MORE THAN WORDSNothing better to do during in a sunny morning than being at a café, eating chocolate ice-cream with waffles, and working on my PC. Well... I say working but, truth be told, I'm just blogging, spending some time in online gaming, answering e-mails, updating software. Oh! And music, of course. There's not really much things to do since I'm stuck here this summer. Thank God, the owner was nice enough to let me use the Wi-Fi without paying...
"Lynn!" someone called. I sat up straight, suprised by hearing my name, and looked around. Damn it! Not him. I turned to the PC screen and adjust the headphones, wishing he would walk away. "Lynn? It's you isn't it?" he said again, only this time he was right beside me. I nodded to acknowledge his presence but not for once I tore my eyes from the screen in front of me. I kept typing like nothing had happened until- Wait! I didn't invite you to sit here! I am not amused! He tried to get me to talk... Again. "Do you rem
WHERE IS HOME?"Stop!" I was running towards her. She was about to get on her bike. I needed to scream louder. "I said STOP!" That made her look. When I got to her I took her hands in mine. "Please don't go..."
"But, I shouldn't... I have to go, eventually." She replied.
It was the truth. "I know, but don't go today." I softened my grip on her hands. "I can't make you stay, if you don't want to. However, if you have the tiniest hope that we can get through this, don't go... Don't make me let you go." I pleaded.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I- I don't know. I'm so confused and I need some time to figure something out." She opened her eyes and looked me straight in the eye. "I'm going to my parents' for now. They have been living there since I remember... There, everything is familiar and that is what I need now."
I was taken aback. "You know you can count on me, right?" She nodded but before she could speak I continued. "Then stay... You know better than to lie to yourself: you're not goin
Dear deviantART: Free The Author
In a world as colorful, diverse, unique and beautiful as it is today, I’ve learned through my 10 months on this website that many people enjoy expressing themselves in many different ways when it comes to art.
Whether it be through romance, nature, darkness, light or everything else there is to express with, it becomes even more interesting when I see the people express themselves with so many different mediums.
Myself? I enjoy expressing my artistic abilities through many mediums: Digital art, poetry, but most avidly, the xReader fandoms. Avengers, Sherlock, Free!, Shingeki no Kyojin and many, many others.
99% of my stories are romantic. I love to write romance, though I usually don’t take it much further than a little something like a sweet little kiss, the beginning of a new relationship, a baby being born, or occasionally, the odd sexual innuendo. Once, I tried writing a lemon. However it didn’t work out very well, and I decided to remove it for personal reasons.
My ConfessionI never really thought about my lack of sexual interest before society confronted me with it.
It took me quite a while to notice guys as anything more than "other people", and when I did, it was more a group pressure thing than real interest.
I even had a boyfriend then, but not because I particularly liked the guy. Having a boyfriend in your teens is a status symbol. Have one, you're cool, have none, you're not.
Of course, back then things weren't that clear to me. I went with the flow.
For a very long time, I wondered what is wrong with me that I don't enjoy sex, that It makes me feel awkward and that I have no desire to go out and date. Society made me believe it is wrong to be like that. I was ashamed of myself, of my flaws and my obvious failure of being a full-fledged human being.
You define yourself through others. You try to figure out who you are, and you look at others for guidance, for something you can identify with. But you only limit yourself with that, and not finding si
Bullying, a brief storyI always knew I was off, that there was something wrong with me. Elementary school was a wild ride, with no friends, funny nicknames, and even beatings. My nickname, was "It". At that time I didn't know there was any other sexuality other than straight. I didn't know that happened. However, I still admired my same-sex friends, I thought they were pretty, and I wanted to kiss them as much as the opposite gender.
I was pushed off of rock walls, slides, I had basketballs, dodgeballs, footballs, thrown at my head, I was tripped kicked and punched, the nurse knew me by name.
I didn't understand why it was happening, I didn't understand anything. I legit had to make a hula hoop be my best friend, and I'm not even joking.
It wasn't until I started reading the bathroom walls, the backs of whiteboards in class, graffiti on the playground, that I understood. Everyone assumed I was gay, and they wrote stories about me everywhere. Doing things I wasn't old enough to know about yet. The opposite ge
droplets to dropI think I imagined my life.
One prayer spent, an angel held my mind and supported its weight... offered to steal me away in the 8th grade despite the fact I'd let him down in ridicule and silence. In that moment, I believed in God.
but God existed in everything and nothing, and it became hard deciphering the holy from the chosen. So I dined with sin one night when her lips were too sweet and I was too caged; she'd put her nails inside my poet lines, with a sadness too familiar I could only choke on disappointment.
A white-out later--lips left only a little less swollen than the eyes--I was hoping I was simply malnourished in weak-spirit... but you showed me it was a plague in man, a Passover of none, and the scream I let go strangled the last of hope in me.
the things that we take, to make us feel.i tried to keep you a part of myself for as long as i could. but like everything in my life, it crumbled and dissovled and all i ended up left with was all your bad habits and self destruction. dont get me wrong, if i had a choice between nothing, and putting cigarettes out on the palms on my hands the way you taught me, or drinking my coffee black and gritty, i'll take the later every time. (nothing hurts about the same)
cause the only thing i've learned in my 21 years on this planet is that you're always told its going to be be 'okay.
that time heals all the crap that you're feeling right now, and that you have to not dwell on things so much, but i'm not dwelling, i'm holding onto the things that kept me breathing, cause i dont know if i can live without them anymore.
i am so fucking reliant on my crutches, and i can feel them being ripped from underneath me and i dont know how to get back up. my bones arent strong enough to be on their own to hold all this pressure. and i just want
What Happened To Deviant art?Back when i joined i loved this place. Yeah i was a kid back then, and i do see things under a different light now that I'm older. But lately DA seemed to be...Ebbing. And i don't think its the fault of the people that runs this site either. In my opinion its the fault of the degenerates that decide to either troll, steal art, or step on others for no real reason. But now I'm hearing talk of actual pedophiles on this site...i know many people probably already knew about this but this was news to me. And i know that every site i go on may have pedophiles on it and that this is "the internet"...some place where people continue to browse their favorite sites thinking that their completely "anonymous". Your not by the way. But even before this talk it seemed like this site was slowly gaining a population of people that only wants fame. I will admit that fame would be nice for all of us. But people nowadays don't understand what i few nice comments on a picture can do to someones confidence
Never Become Like MeWHAT INSPIRED ME TO CREATE THIS PIECE!
"Creating things is an amazing thing. it’s amazing to see what other people are doing, to see the inner workings of someone else’s brain, but in their own style. and if you want to do it, you just go for it. you try. you have to try. ” ~PJ Liguori (KickThePJ) (I'm not scared video)
I am only a young girl, destined to work until my body begins to fade from the earth.
I am only a fragment of the country that floats on the body of water that blankets the world.
I am a person with feelings towards many things. Some things I love so much that I would protect them, even if protecting them cost my own tiny life. Some things I despise so much that I would toss them into the flames that younger children admire so much that they utter words in a melodic fashion around it... And I would watch it burn...
Most days I wake up, I put on my clothes and I venture towards a place which I am forced to endure for six painful hours. I sit on one of t
DecayI feel dead,
Inside and out.
My skin becomes ashen,
Bones become brittle as they crumble.
My skin starts to tighten.
I start to breathe in small shallow gasps,
As the walls start to close around me.
I start to tremble,
My eyes begin to drain of color,
Until they become dull and monotone.
My skin starts to evaporate,
I choke on air as I lose my skin.
My eyes roll back until my eyes become that of a zombie...
Emotionless and soulless...
And in this seat I have become brittle,
A decaying skeleton,
Just a simple white and broken endoskeleton...
Inside and out...
Inside the VaseThe vase stands there
Cold and firm.
It doesn't make a move.
No one knows.
The vase is pushed
Maybe there was nothing inside.
I am the vase.
I try to put back my pieces with glue.
I guess I finally cracked.
Through all the little cracks
There was water inside.
WHAT LIES BENEATH...Some days I wish not to be the one who's always happy.
Sometimes I wish not to be the one who always wins the fight.
I wish not to lie about how I really feel.
I wish not to smile when all I want is to yell, kick or punch.
Why is it so hard? I think I have no longer the ability to show my true feelings. Maybe I don't know how to feel anymore. All is left is sadness, anger, pain and happiness. Nothing more, nothing less.
I can't bring myself to trust easily people around me... Even the ones I trust the most aren't allowed to know me. I don't let them.
All I wanted was someone... Just someone to see right through me. See the loneliness, the insecurity, the fear.
Some days I wish I had someone whom I trusted.
Sometimes I wish that one person saw what lies beneath my smile.
I wish for someone who trusts me and who I trust.
I wish for a person to hug me and tell me that is okay for me to yell if I want. To cry. To hug back.
That person who knows how I really feel and is by my side.
Twelve Moments In The Dead Of Summer1. The sunlight glistens on her wet skin as she's walking towards the beach. He has never seen anything so beautiful in his life and even if the words seem to dry up in his throat, he knows what he is going to do next.
2. It hasn't rained for months now so it only takes a small spark from the cigarette to set the undergrowth on fire. On the first sign of fire they panic and run, never to look back but to remember years later, in nightmares, the crazy old man who lived in the shack nearby and was never seen since.
3. They lay together on the grass, watching the sun slowly go down behind the treeline. He takes her hand, old, wrinkled and frail into his, and whispers: "I would give up everything I have for one more summer like this". She responds: "Darling, you already did that years ago". They burst into giggles, just like the one he was supposed to take her dancing for the first time and got lost on the way, and it seems that all these years haven't changed anything at all.
4. The thorn
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More