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NascentI left a promise of enduring bliss
Self-scorned and confused
Too arrogant, over-confident
What did I have to lose?
I hated everything
I didn't see it coming
But I had my strategy
The anger that changed me
Assured to me again
That nothing is worth fighting for
Until it's gone
What have I become?
It really wasn't all my fault
Yet I still played my part well
Demanding and screaming
Was only part of the hell
You created just for me
I'm dying so lonely
I never saw plainly
But I had my strategy
The passion that changed me
Assured to me again
That nothing is worth fighting for
Until it's all gone
I hated everyone
You taught cruelty as devotion
Unaccustomed to adoration
Deluded thrall in your creation
Sacrificed by desperation
CompulsionWrath descends down from the heavens
To live as glowing embers in my soul
What is a conscious, constant problem
The burning rage now building up inside me
When the world just falls apart
Ruptures that deem nowhere is safe
Cannot decide between the options
A burning hate so prophesied inside me
You're making it hard to be human
You've always made it impossible feel stable
Why this has ever happened makes no sense to me
I mustn't clue you in to
The agony you stretch so thin
I'm better off without you
It's just the game I've forced myself to master
But I suppose I have to up the dose
I'm not myself if I'm not living in decay
Our vicious cycle resurrected
You've always made me lie to myself too well
Intermittent, my vain approach shall wait
Placed back where I was before, as kingpin to
The shrouded everything around, seen
I may create them but my lies are wearing me
DistressesSo many mysteries of life, too shrouded
What will I become?
You are all I need for now
But I just cannot say it
Not to you or myself
Killing off my dreams
I can't seem to stay alive
These wistful words of confusion
Is it too late to cancel the world?
Reduced to sickly heaving every try
What is this life?
I feel you'll leave again
I'll never forget the pained whisper
Leaving myself behind
You couldn't have come at a better and yet much worse time
I wish to be relieved
Everything has become far too much for me
Have I said it yet?
Didn't think so, no
I left in pain
Willing to reclaim a friend
What's made me do this?
RememberThe world has ended
And I'm alone
To think I was dying
But yet not, now so prone
To confusion and helplessness
So tired and in distress
I scream for a message
Someone save me
What am I to do
To pick up these pieces
I cannot believe this
That you'd strike me so true
I cannot deny it
You've broken me again
I didn't think it was possible
Have I been deciev-ed again?
I do not understand
This adult life anymore
I do not comprehend
What living is, past my door
Dying in myself
Convulsing in paranoia
You bested me this time
I thought I had won
And I really had, too
But then you came
And downed me, damn you
I want to believe
Is it lies or just truth?
I'm vying for reason
Why is this so you?
SicknessHow could you deny
Such an unforgivable lie
The lie you forced me to live
That was then
The dire end
Is final; Leave me alone
Why must you persist
I do nothing but resist
I cannot seem to escape your terror
Stay away, lest I kill
Does my hatred fit the bill?
Move yourself back to nonexistence
I plot and plan for days ahead
To decide upon this dread
Fate must be working against me
Morose ConfusionI've held my candle up to you, to beg for some sliver of recognition
Digress back to the original point of interest, and so I go with the flow
The conversations are the same, but I prize them anyway
Not sure you care that all I want is something better
Something slightly more interesting to outshine all our normality
But it's all the same to you, and I prize it anyway
I try to stray, to draw your attention to other things
It works for a bit, and I'm content
Then I say something to tip you off and it's back to business as usual
If it's all the same to you, I'll prize it anyway
I went with my gut and threw myself out
Exposed my own truth to you, to hopefully make you see
And you noticed, or so I thought, but you've not brought it up since
All I wanted was something different to outshine the normality
I paid my verbal due to show you my respect
But it seems like everything else is irrelevant
I prize it anyway
Too scared to reiterate my simple wish,
I've sensed a sort of avoidance
MonetizeIf I had a dollar for every suicidal thought
Maybe I would not be such a failure
Wailing so distraught
If I had a quarter for all the times I have receded
I think I'd be wealthy enough
For happiness to come as needed
If I had a dime for every time life was without meaning
In time I could probably come close
To finding out I was just dreaming
If I had a nickel for every second I was bored
Nothing plain and never pain
Could stab through me as a sword
'Twas I given a penny in my moments of despair
I'd pay to disappear forever
No joy and fellowship would I ever share
But alas, none of these things could come to be
So solitary on this path I stay
Confused on whether I'm truly free
FailureI'll never know what I said
To make you go right out of your head
Then you left me for dead
And I was just breaking bread
With the evil
I can only be me
Only wanted to be free
You didn't have to believe
Anything I'd ever preach
But I'm sorry
It was not good enough for me to see you cry
Day after day it was a lesson in the art of war
Friendship is nothing to a scheming whore
The monsters of my worst fear came alive
Now twas up to me to retreat or retry
That cadaver's magicks infested your mind
Left in silent sacrificial sabotage, deleting all our time
It used to be a journey towards a prosperous life
But the league of you and me would lead to insanity
It came with no meaning to wish you'd die
For I could only try, but why..?
Never figured out who was really to blame
Never saw the light of the deviant point of our stray
Why should something have to end that way?
Abscond from this unwanted hate
Tired of submission to the cruelty of fate
Regret is a bitch
Brutal Truth(Please note that when I say 'you' here, it's directed to everyone who has been, is, or had tried to bring me down, ruin my life, et cetera.)
How am I supposed to explain that some days I just do not want to get out of bed because of the crushing pain I feel? There are days that I do not even feel like living, I don't see how I could get my parents to understand that. They're constantly angry at me, pretending they care. Yes, I know I'm a failure, you don't need to remind me. I don't think my drugged up mother could understand that I quite honestly want to die right when I wake up. My father is completely ignorant to the fact I'd rather just lay in bed all day and cry, some days. But I forget that none of this matters, that I have to somehow find the strength to carry on, I have to somehow force myself to get out and pretend my life means something. I don't know how I'm supposed to explain it to anyone. I type it all out perfectly well, but mercy on me if I have to speak it. I don't ge
Descriptive PortraitureYour eagerness to begin our first day together, in person, was as bright and warm as the golden California sunshine that crept playfully into your window. You waited to wake me only for as long as you could stand to, then tousled my hair and spoke to my jetlag-stricken self in singsong until I stirred.
Your own dark brown tresses, unbrushed, fell flawlessly around your face and onto your pajamas-clad shoulders as you responded to a few e-mails on your laptop. The contrast between your skin and hair in the light of dawn was absolutely striking. In mid-dress, I whipped out my camera and sneaked a picture. You mock-fumed when you heard the shutter click.
"Don't worry," I reassured you. "I won't post it anywhere."
But I did, and thank goodness you were forgiving. It was too perfect not to share. Even my smarting eyes could tell that your face had expressed the utmost sense of joy and serenity.
* * *
That blue-and-white-striped Hollister shirt had been a staple in your wardrobe for ne
Adventures of a CarAs I surveyed my car while my father in-law's phone rang, I considered the events which had led to this. Remarkably, I wasn't angry or upset. In spite of losing my car, I wasn't panicking. Rather, I was quite level-headed, and would soon share a laugh.
Purchasing the car had been a necessity. Just after replacing the radiator in my 1993 Buick LeSabre, I bumped into a Jeep Grand Cherokee which was traveling at about 35 miles per hour. The slight bump unhitched and bent the hood, knocked out a headlight, tore off the grille, and, to add insult to injury, bent the brand new radiator backward over the engine.
The replacement was a 2000 Ford Focus wagon. The dealer had obtained it at auction with only 58,000 miles. It was previously a corporate car. I had high expectations on that basis; since it was previously owned by a corporation, I was of the impression that the car would have been in good shape. After all, a company would care for its assets.
I had not expected what would follo
UntitledIn the midst
The hardest part of a fight is often around round six and seven depending on the length of the rounds. In an even match you have scored and been punched in equal measure. She seems so much stronger than you now and your first wind has all been used up. You do not listen to your second as she cleans you and uses an ice pack to stop any swelling or nasal adrenalin swabs stuffed up your nose to quell the blood dripping onto your chest and bra. You feel slightly sick and wonder if you will throw up. She thrusts the mouthguard in and jolts your shoulders back to bring you back to the fight. “Seconds out, round seven.” Suddenly you are up on your feet and your opponent is snarling and on top of you so quickly. The first few stinging blows to your head and body somehow flick a switch to bring you out of your lethargy. You smell and feel her near you, her concentration is on hurting you. Such desire, you are the sole focus of her attention. This is not romantic love, i
Basculin (has 2 forms)
[Mega Charizard X]
[Mega Charizard Y]
S.M.I.L.E. - His CurlsThe first thing I ever noticed about him were those dark curls of his. They were so wild and thick, making the giant defensive tackler seem like a small child. It was my first time seeing someone with real, natural curls. A part of me wanted to stand on the tips of my toes and reach my fingers up into that untamed mess, but I held back. After all, I didn't even know his name.
We only shared science and study hall together, sadly. Our lunch periods were the same as well, but he always sat far away, surrounded by his friends. Whenever I was able to, I would sneak a glance over at him before quickly looking away whenever one of them were to notice me staring. I could never seem to bring myself to talk to him, but for some reason he always seemed to notice me anyways. He would redirect me when I got lost in the hallways, made an effort to bring me into the conversation, even convinced me to participate in the dreaded School Spirit week.
It was such a strange concept to me. We had neve
Another worldShe rested her head on the plane window and let the electric guitars and screaming vocals flood her ears. The drums pounded away, and the dark, melodic vocals soothed her grieving soul. Her blue eyes surveyed the air around her; she longed to see someone. Even if it wasn't possible, she dreamed of seeing him. A crash of the symbols and a final riff collided in her eardrums, signaling a grand finale. As the vocalist screamed at the top of his lungs, she watched the world around her fall, as she slipped into another world.
She traveled to this dimension, eyelids heavy from her journey, and sleep embraced her peacefully.
But still he haunts her dreams.
Special: My History of TG (1 Year Celebration)Hello, ladies and gentlemen, my name’s Xellows1, and today is a special today for me. One year ago, I started up this profile, ready to explore all that the TG community in deviantART had to offer. Never would I have expected to be an active member of that community, writing TGs for hundreds of people to read and enjoy. And, while it may seem unnecessary for some (I mean, it really does mean absolutely nothing to you guys), I want to celebrate the occasion. Plus, I want something new out there to make up for the epic crash that recently hit me that destroyed all work I was planning on to release this week. So, I’ve decided to talk about my history with transformations, TGs, deviantART, and Xellows. This is something I’ve been wanting to do for a few weeks or so, and now seems like a better time than ever to do so. Let’s not waste any time and get into it.
Now, I’m not sure when you guys first got into TGs or TFs, but for me it was at a very young age. 5 or
Define Normal Mom, Lil One, and I sat in Russ’, our diner almost finished. Dad hadn’t been able to make it. Work held him too long. Mom sipped at the remains of her espresso. Lil One poked at her chicken, basically full. She offered me some of her milkshake. I already finished my tilapia and malt, so my stomach protested the idea of more food.
Trying to be helpful, Mom unwrapped another straw and stuck it in Lil One’s shake. What, did she want some? Two straws stood proud on opposite sides of the shake.
Mom smiled. “There you go.”
So, she didn’t want any. Then why put the straw in the shake? Didn’t she see me shake my head at Lil One’s offer?
Lil One locked eyes with Mom. Slowly, she leaned forward, keeping eye contact. Her lips reached for the straw Mom put in her shake; the farthest straw from her. She found it, sipped some shake, a
Fighting in ShenTeens in Omaha fight with guns. It was much different in Shenandoah, Iowa, in the late 1950s and early 1960s. I wasn't present when Doug Olsen fought Duane Andress one day while they were working in the nurseries, but I heard summaries and interpretations of the event for at least a week after it had transpired. Duane said Olsen had sucker punched him and that the attack was unprovoked.
I was present when Gene Frizzell broke Greg Buntz's nose in a fight out at the Old Highway one night. They'd agreed to meet and duke it out. I never knew exactly why—perhaps a taunt, a dare, a challenge. They circled one another, boxed, punched, bumped into parked cars, staggered, fell, and then wrestled around on the pavement for several minutes. There were eight or nine cars there, maybe a few more, a fairly large circle of curious spectators, most of them friends of one or the other of the two contestants. I was with Greg, Cox, Voitenko, Willy, and Powell.
Someone pointed at Frizzell and yelled
Perils of LifeEveryone is so god damned fake. You say you missed me, and then make no hesitation to leave me once more. I try to open up and talk about things I've bottled, things that have begun to fester inside, but then anyone I try to let any of it out to disappears. I think I'm really losing it.
My scars make shadows upon my wrists. Small, but just enough to make them pop, enough to make them seem even larger than their already noticeable size. As if I needed even more of a reminder, or an enhancement to the same reminder, of what I already regret and want to pretend isn't there, or ever was.
I lie awake these recent nights, sobbing, reaching out for anyone who isn't there beside me. Each time I open my tear-clouded eyes and witness firsthand the predictable emptiness, I curl up, remembering that my hope was pitifully vain.
Smiles, everywhere. Not one for me, never one upon me. My invisibility proves its existence every day I arrive at school. I did not wish for this. I never wanted this. My ha
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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