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Sun Jun 28, 2015, 5:55 PM



:bulletyellow: Note: Any of the  journals that you share have to be in a NEW journal entry. Please do not place them into an old entry and expect that others will see it.

:bulletgreen: Share this "Giveaway" journal with the title being something along the lines of "POINT GIVEAWAY", in order to be entered into the giveaway. This will give you 1 entry into this giveaway.

:bulletgreen: For 1 more entry into the giveaway, read and share the following  journal post of mine:

My name is Dawn but I go by the nickname "Kitty".
In 2002 I was in a freak accident that almost caused me to lose my right leg. Thankfully, with surgery I was able to keep my leg. However, I was rendered disabled and could no longer continue my hairdressing career. I've tried several jobs since that time but due to a variety of medically related conditions I've been unable to continue with those positions, as well.
Since that date, I've undergone several minor surgeries and two major surgeries in efforts to keep me out of a wheelchair. The latest major surgery was on February 13, 2015. I remained with my leg immobile from then until June 09th. I now can see how well I'm going to be able to walk. With high hopes, this past surgery will be the last and the miracle surgery my family and I have been hoping and praying for.
Although I do receive insurance through Medicare, I am still responsible for the remaining medical fees associated with my medi

:bulletyellow: The only rule about the above journal besides that it must be a new journal entry is that the title may not be left blank. If you're stuck on a title, just put "PLEASE HELP ".

:bulletgreen: For every 10 points you donate to me, you can have 1 more entry into this giveaway.

:bulletgreen: You may offer prizes for the 17 winners, such as features   llamas, etc. I'll then give you 1 more entry for each. However, if you offer prizes and win the giveaway, I'll not award you the prize until AFTER you've followed through with your own prize promises.


:bulletgreen: Watch me to keep updated on when the giveaway will be ending, and for any additions/modifications to the giveaway.

:bulletgreen: Fave this journal so you can refer back to it later.




:star:--- 1000 points from me
:star:---10 points--watch--llama from JackaIoaf
:star:---llama and watch from FanatgeRocks
:star:--llama-watch-favorite-feature from actualcheetah
:star:---llama and watch from FizzGryphon
:star:---llama from SinfulVixxen
:star:---llama from TheNaughtyPirate
:star:---llama from Soratoocute
:star:---llama and favorite from lovescarmen
:star:---llama and fave from ArcticArrow
:star:---llama-favorite and feature from Medicalkit
:star:---llama and favorite from cel-yu
:star:---llama and 5 faves from :devKnighteSky
:star:---llama -favorite and a Free MYO for my Species Emènta DarkBonnie
:star:---fave-feature-watch from ancient--one
:star:---llama and 5 faves mikeemee16aa


:star:--- 700 points from me
:star:---watch--llama from JackaIoaf
:star:--llama-watch-favorite-feature from actualcheetah
:star:---llama and watch from FizzGryphon
:star:---llama from SinfulVixxen
:star:---llama from TheNaughtyPirate
:star:---llama from Soratoocute
:star:---llama and favorite from lovescarmen
:star:---llama and fave from ArcticArrow
:star:---llama-favorite and feature from Medicalkit
:star:---llama and favorite from cel-yu
:star:---llama and 5 faves from :devKnighteSky
:star:---llama -favorite and a Free MYO for my Species Emènta DarkBonnie
:star:---fave-feature-watch from ancient--one
:star:---llama and 5 faves mikeemee16aa


:star:--- 600 points from me
:star:---watch--llama from JackaIoaf
:star:--llama-watch-favorite-feature from actualcheetah
:star:---llama and watch from FizzGryphon
:star:---llama from SinfulVixxen
:star:---llama from TheNaughtyPirate
:star:---llama from Soratoocute
:star:---llama and favorite from lovescarmen
:star:---llama and fave from ArcticArrow
:star:---llama-favorite and feature from Medicalkit
:star:---llama and favorite from cel-yu
:star:---llama and 5 faves from :devKnighteSky
:star:---llama -favorite and a Free MYO for my Species Emènta DarkBonnie
:star:---fave-feature-watch from ancient--one
:star:---llama and 5 faves mikeemee16aa


:star:---300 points from me
:star:---watch--llama from JackaIoaf
:star:--llama-watch-favorite-feature from actualcheetah
:star:---llama and watch from FizzGryphon
:star:---llama from SinfulVixxen
:star:---llama from TheNaughtyPirate
:star:---llama from Soratoocute
:star:---llama and favorite from lovescarmen
:star:---llama and fave from ArcticArrow
:star:---llama and favorite from Medicalkit
:star:---llama and favorite from cel-yu
:star:---llama and 5 faves from :devKnighteSky
:star:---llama -favorite and a Free MYO for my Species Emènta DarkBonnie
:star:---fave-feature-watch from ancient--one
:star:---llama and 5 faves mikeemee16aa


:star:--- 25 points from me
:star:---watch--llama from JackaIoaf
:star:--llama-watch-favorite-feature from actualcheetah
:star:---llama and watch from FizzGryphon
:star:---llama from SinfulVixxen
:star:---llama from TheNaughtyPirate
:star:---llama from Soratoocute
:star:---llama and favorite from lovescarmen
:star:---llama and fave from ArcticArrow
:star:---llama and favorite from Medicalkit
:star:---llama and favorite from cel-yu
:star:---llama and 5 faves from :devKnighteSky
:star:---llama -favorite and a Free MYO for my Species Emènta DarkBonnie
:star:---fave-feature-watch from ancient--one
:star:---llama and 5 faves mikeemee16aa

:bulletred:---I'll end this when I feel like entries are starting to slow down significantly.
:bulletred:---I'll assign numbers to everyone that joins as well as keep tallies in my back room notification area.
:bulletred:---I'll use a random number generator to choose the winners.…
:bulletred:--You may only win once!

Please click on the image below to take you to my gofundme account to read more about my story and share my links or even give a dollar or so if you can! Thanks so much! :heart: Kitty!




CRLiterature Journal Header by inknalcohol

It's July!

That means it's both Camp NaNoWriMo and Flash Fiction Month! Huzzah! I, personally, am hoping to complete a revision on a past NaNo novel. We all have goals, and there are lots of ways to go about achieving them. But when it comes to first drafts with deadlines, there are some things you might want to consider, or remember, or just paste on a wall above your desk. Because it's HARD to keep up. There are totally points at which you want to quit, and points where you have no idea what is supposed to happen next, where you feel like you've run out of ideas. BUT. You signed up for this. And I'm holding you to it!

So. Here you go. Pinky's Top Five Survival Tips for Writing Challenges!

1. First drafts suck. 

AndyTheShowMustGoWrong by PinkyMcCoversong

They suck a lot. All of them. Whether you're Nooby McNoobwriter or Stephen King. So give yourself permission to suck. It's okay. You can fix it later.


RonNeverHalfAssTwoThings by PinkyMcCoversong
That's for later. Your goal right now is to crank out some words. You have limited time, so you'd better use that time to make more words instead of going back and fixing, deleting, rewriting. Revision is ESSENTIAL. But you have to get that first draft finished first.

3. Find some folks to hold you accountable. 

LeslieTextMeEvery30Seconds by PinkyMcCoversong

Right here on dA, there are tons of writers participating in Camp NaNo and FFM. So find some buddies. Check in with each other. Challenge each other. and keep each other accountable for these goals you set at the beginning of the month.

4. If you get stuck, try something outrageous.

DonnaTommySurpriseFace by PinkyMcCoversong

Sometimes when I get stuck writing a first draft, I write in a bear attack or an explosion or something. Maybe you could try a crazy prompt that you thought you'd never even touch, write something out of your wheelhouse, or have someone walk into the room with a gun. Surprise yourself! Be fearless!

5. Treat yo' self!

Treatyoselftommy by PinkyMcCoversong

Or...write now fun later. Set daily goals (like your one FFM piece for the day, or your x amount of words for the day), and play afterward. You could also set up something with yourself like "after I meet my goal, I get to binge watch Netflix things for two hours" or "no ice cream until after I finish this FFM piece!" 

There you go. Now get out there and get writing. Because that's how we do at CRLiterature

AndyBurtMacklin by PinkyMcCoversong

Skin by Dan Leveille

July Hero Challenge : Loish

Wed Jul 1, 2015, 7:00 AM


This Month's Challenge

The Deep Blue

Download A Free Version Of SketchBook


The world under the surface is vast, deep and mysterious. It speaks to our imaginations - sometimes it's presented as calm and tranquil, sometimes nightmarish and terrifying, sometimes vibrant and colorful, sometimes surreal and dream-like. What is your interpretation of the deep blue?

For this challenge, explore the idea of a world under water. What kind of creatures live there? Is it beautiful, dangerous, or both?



The Hero Challenge is a monthly creation prompt where one hand-selected industry professional provides a general theme to draw!

July's Hero is loish!

“I've been drawing since the day I could hold a pencil, and started teaching myself to draw digitally in 2003. I studied animation at the Utrecht School of the Arts and, upon graduating, started working as a freelance illustrator and animator, although I primarily think of myself as a digital artist.

I've always had a weak spot for mermaids, sea creatures, underwater settings and the dream-like floating effect that underwater imagery gives. It's a theme that I always return to in some way or other through the years!”


How to Participate

Step 1

Join autodesk-sketchbook to take part in the Hero Challenge!

Step 2

Download the canvas and create! Then, upload and submit your creation to the July Hero Challenge gallery folder.

Step 3

At month's end, the host will select a few pieces of art and describe why those entries stood out. Those works will be featured on autodesk-sketchbook!

The Art Theft Discussion

Tue Jul 7, 2015, 3:39 PM
Art-Theft-Cover by ProtectArt

The DeviantArt community has always been deeply concerned about art theft.

We are committed to providing a completely open conversation on this topic. With your active and constructive participation we can become a leading voice on how we adapt to the challenges of being artists on the Web.

This Journal frames the continuing conversation and concern about art theft in general on the Internet and on DeviantArt. Each section links to a more specific and expanded treatment of the topic with additional links to useful materials and readings. Your comments to this Journal will be reviewed by experts and comment threads of general interest will be linked into the expanded topic sections.

Something to keep in mind at the outset: we are all guided by a code of decency, honesty and the expression of mutual respect. So, try to be tolerant and understanding even when reviewing these materials. Ethical behavior is a reward and a duty larger than laws and rules. Sometimes people interpret right and wrong differently even when both people have the exact same good and ethical intentions. Keep in mind that everything anyone does will be right if it’s also decent and honest even if some rule of law or contract was technically broken.

Artist Creditkozispoon

Art theft is stealing a painting from a wall.

  • Sometimes the term “theft” is accurate and it always attracts attention.

  • The word “theft” can be used casually, sometimes to describe copying any part of an artwork. The term “theft” also defines actual criminal conduct and is associated to a harsh moral judgment that may go too far.

  • Stealing an object is theft. Using artwork without permission isn’t technically a “theft.” It might be copyright infringement or violate a contract.

  • Stealing an object is theft. Using artwork without permission is frequently called “theft” or “stealing.” But it might, instead, be copyright infringement or the violation of a contract that just feels like a theft.

  • More About Stealing

Artist Creditkozispoon

Not all copying is wrong.

  • Everything comes from somewhere. To some degree all people copy what other people do starting with talking, walking and eating. And, the same is true in writing, art and music. There is a limit to the originality of any artwork in any medium.

  • Basic standards of decent, respectful and honest behavior — and the law — will prevent copying when it will harm another person economically.

  • Copying can be permitted because it’s an accepted practice or sometimes because the laws directly permit it.  As an example, there is a rich history of using tracing for learning and some artists want their work to be copied.

  • Protection from copying is also time-based. Copying very old things is a way to preserve them and keep them relevant in the culture.

  • Entire fields of recognized fine art such as collage and “appropriation art” (like Andy Warhol) depend on copying and the law is favoring this development.

  • More About Taking

Artist Creditkozispoon

Copyright laws are powerful tools that protect art and artists and can prevent the misuse of artworks.

  • Copyright gives the author the exclusive right to copy, distribute, alter or base other works on his or her original work.  These rights are very broad.

  • Those who violate the rights are called “infringers” and can be made to pay money damages or can be made to stop their behavior.

  • Copyright laws also create a balance between the needs of artists to protect their work and the needs of the culture to express itself by protecting people who want to use copyrighted works for specific reasons such as criticism, comment, political speech and sometimes it protects the actual use of artwork in another artwork.

  • Copyright only protects the way an idea is expressed. It does not protect the idea. Anyone can use an idea, even if it’s original. Patent law or trade secret law could protect an idea, but these laws have strict requirements. They mostly apply to making useful things, and almost all artworks don’t qualify.

  • Every country has similar copyright laws but with many technical variations and differences. It can get complicated.

  • More About Copyright

Artist Creditkozispoon

Stock, even free stock, comes with a license. The license is a real contract.

  • On or off DeviantArt, the word “stock” means the artist or company intends other people to use a photograph or another form of artwork — and it always means that there are conditions to using it.

  • The conditions for stock use could be very open, such as “use it anyway you want, at anytime, for anything” or they could be very restricted specifying size, uses, changes, payment, credit or all of these.

  • Every time someone gives you permission to use a work it’s a contract and you need to be as clear as possible about how far that permission goes.

  • If you use stock and violate a condition, then you are breaking a contract and maybe also engaging in copyright infringement.

  • More About Permission

Artist Creditkozispoon

Fan art as love is different than fan art for sale.

  • Fan art usually takes characters, situations and sometimes directly copies artwork from all kinds of media including films, television, comics, books, or games. Typically, the original version is protected by copyright laws.

  • Most major media companies that control the properties most fan art celebrate are OK with fan art made not for profit. But, the companies will rarely admit this because it would compromise their need to protect the properties when they have to. This “fan art understanding” is entirely within the control of the owner of the property and they can withdraw it when they like.

  • When fan art is sold in multiple copies it tends to become a problem for these companies, which is a problem for artists as well. It can be a violation of both copyright law and trademark law.

  • Fan artists recognize that there are also ethical issues in reproducing and selling fan art.  It is considered different than selling an original drawing or painting that is fan based.

  • It is a good practice to label fan art if there is any risk that someone would confuse it as official, licensed art. It is never OK to label fan art as coming from the original owner or creator.

  • More About Fan Art

Artist Creditkozispoon

“Moral Rights” protect artists from others harming their artwork and protects artists from people taking false credit.

  • The right of “integrity” protects against harmful damage to artworks and permits the artist to step in to protect his or her art even after a work has been sold or licensed.

  • The right of “attribution” defends artists against people taking false credit for the artist’s work and against people who claim something was made by a particular artist when it wasn’t.

  • Not every country has these laws or they have very weak ones. The U.S. has very weak protections but they do apply to artworks published in limited editions of 200 copies or less. France and Germany have the strongest protections.

  • There should be an obvious ethical obligation not to claim false credit and not to damage another person’s artwork.

  • More About Moral Rights

Artist Creditkozispoon

Ways to protect your art on the Internet.

  • Putting your own work on the Internet is not giving it away. A blog or a website is a display or a distribution of your work. But, it isn’t a statement that other people can use the work or copy it.

  • A website or blog’s terms and conditions are a contract that defines what the site and what people who visit the site can do with your work — read it and decide.

  • Automatic copyright protection is available to all new works of art and in most countries you do not have to place a copyright notice on the artwork.

  • Placing lower resolution files for display on the Internet is an excellent technique to prevent many commercial uses of artwork.

  • Sites like DeviantArt offer watermark options on submission.

  • Post with a clear notice saying what people can or cannot do with your work to remind your viewers that they have only limited rights.

  • More About Protection

Artist Creditkozispoon

Resolve disputes with a conversation, if you can.

  • Misunderstandings about using artworks and taking credit for things that may go too far are very common. Use the messaging system or comments to give people the chance to do the right thing after they find out what the right thing should be.

  • If messaging and conversation doesn’t work, consider using a website reporting function, contacting the administrators, filing a formal copyright takedown request or contacting a lawyer for assistance.

  • More About Resolving Disputes

Goodbye Satoru Iwata; Heroes Reborn Trailer, Giving Thanks; Pluto In The Spotlight; Batman vs Superman; Fear The Walking Dead; Stripes Aren't Just for Zebras; and Incognito at Comic-Con.<da:thumb id="5271877881343943"/>


Today's Inspiration

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do, so throw off the bowlines, sail away from safe harbor, catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore, Dream, Discover.”

— Mark Twain


Goodbye Satoru Iwata

Over the weekend Nintendo president Satoru Iwata lost his battle to Cancer. For many of us who have grown up playing his games, this news is heartbreaking however, we believe that he would want us to celebrate his life with the same joy that he put into his games. Today, let's celebrate the whimsical gamer who inspired and entertained us. Thank you Mr. Iwata.


Go Digital

It's another week of fun, information and events over at projecteducate and this time the focus is on Digital Art. Check out the full schedule and get involved!

Heroes Reborn

After many teasers, the official full-length trailer is finally here. We get an in-depth look at some of the new heroes and are reintroduced to some familiar faces including, a much older Micah. We have high hopes for this rebirth but let us know your thoughts in the comments below.


Giving Thanks

In this journal, WakefieldDesigns reminds us all to thank those that provide us with inspiring stock and resources. Thank your stock providers today!


Pluto In The Spotlight

In what promises to be the biggest planetary unveiling in a quarter-century, NASA's New Horizon spacecraft will sweep past Pluto on Tuesday and unveil it, in all it's icy glory. Some fun facts you may not be aware of — this mission is 9 years in the making as the spacecraft was launched on January 19, 2006. Also, not only have we never seen Pluto before, this is the farthest desination for any space mission in history, making this a staggering technological accomplishment if everything goes to plan. Can't wait to meet you dwarf planet!

Batman vs Superman

Comic-con certainly brought a wealth of trailers and here's another — the official extended trailer for the upcoming Batman vs Superman. We get some footage of Wonder Woman and Lex Luthor in this one, and even a line from Batman "How many good guys are left? How many stayed that way?". Tell us what you think in the comments.


Find a Fave

@juusta is sure you're going to find a new favorite in this feature of artwork. Was she right? If so, share your new fave with us in the comments below.

Fear The Walking Dead

Walking Dead fans have been anticipating more information about the prequel Fear The Walking Dead and here it is. While it's tooted as a spin-off it's quickly apparent from the trailer that aside from the name, and the presence of zombies, not much else is the same. They share no characters or references so it's going to be interesting to see how this all plays out.


Stripes Aren't Just for Zebras

This fantastic feature of artwork curated by ZiaulKareem, shows us how stripes play into our every day. Read between the lines.

Incognito at Comic-Con

Every year Adam Savage, co-host of Mythbusters, dons a costume and heads to Comic-con and this year he had a partner in crime — Chris Hadfield. Appropriately, they both cosplayed as 2001: A Space Odyssey astronauts. Well played.


In the Forums

A genie appears and grants you one wish, what do you wish for? Share it with us in this forum


Happy Birthday

Today we celebrate the birthday of da-hazard! Go wish him an awesome day.

city concept 2 by TylerEdlinArt
DeviantArt will be undergoing scheduled maintenance on Monday, July 27th from approximately 10:00 PM to 11:59 PM Pacific.

During this time, and the DeviantArt Mobile App will be in read-only mode — you'll be unable to submit, comment, or +fav deviations (or take other actions that require being logged-in.) However, you'll still be able to browse and search the site, and we encourage you to find and share artwork that you enjoy, bringing attention to artists you love!

This scheduled maintenance will allow us to test changes to our backend systems to make DeviantArt faster and more reliable. Rest assured that none of your data will be affected or lost during this time.

Thank you for your understanding, and we look forward to providing you with an even better DeviantArt experience!

Update: DeviantArt's scheduled maintenance is now complete. Thank you for your patience and please commence DeviantArting! 

╰( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・゚

Polls No Longer Require Owner's Vote

Wed Jul 8, 2015, 12:12 PM by danlev:icondanlev:

By popular demand, you no longer need to vote on your own poll to see the results. Poll results are now visible immediately after submitting a new poll. Enjoy!

Polls can be created by Premium Members using the poll widget on your profile.

Literature DD Round Up June 2015

Wed Jul 1, 2015, 12:50 AM
:iconirrevocablefate: Features by IrrevocableFate

on loving a girl who doesn't love herselfYou used to tell her that you’d accept the reminders, the dark shades running down and over the hill of her waist, the shadow of her wrist. Far from unlovable, you said. So far.
Grudgingly, you realized that you could not fix her. She was not a dismantled puzzle just waiting for you; she was her own brand of porcelain, one you didn’t know how to mold back together. She wasn’t breathing for you.
The moments of silence between you led to a longer period, those weeks when you went days without talking – and you didn’t know if you were supposed to be proud of her or cry.
Stargazed at each other’s words until the night came when you learned she wanted you to kiss her scars and make love to them as if they were her self. You laughed without humor and said, "I might as well kiss them with the fucking blade then." She said nothing.
When she discovered that you would love her and her body and her past – but wouldn’t trace the lines on her skin
No Definition NeededI read a book that reminded me of you,
of all the complicated words you used to use,
how definitions fled your mind but synonyms were so profuse.
I read a thesaurus and every word was you.
Happy BirthdayHappy Birthday
Lizzie woke up at dawn.  She was too excited to sleep.  Normally Saturdays were her sleep in day, but today was special.  Today was her mommy’s birthday. 
 Her daddy was going to be so proud of her as he didn’t have to tell her to wake up, to not sleep the day away.  Today she was a big girl, able to do for herself.  She was now 8 years old, no longer a baby, daddy told her so.  With that in mind, she was going to dress herself and do her own hair. 
 Even though Lizzie had not seen her mommy in a long time, she could still remember how beautiful she was.  She remembered how her mommy smelled, always of vanilla.  Mommy used to tell her it was because she was in the kitchen all day baking.  Lizzie did not really understand this, but she didn’t want her mommy to think of her like a baby anymore, so Lizzie would just nod and tell mommy how much she loved the smell.  It reminded he
Hello Neighbor - a Suburban Conversation on Racehello neighbor, i know that
we were supposed to welcome
a retired police officer's arrival
an ushering-in
of a safer enclave, but i
never expected much from you
i don't expect that you're
self-aware enough
to remember
how our mutual whiteness
lulled you into telling me
how you'd so longed to live
in the suburbs
among your own kind
i believe that you phrased it as
"not with the black and spanish"
i also don't expect
that you felt ashamed, when
you saw my wife
who is dark-mixed of
both these dangerous tones-
i do expect that you
probably assumed
that she works here
cleaning, maybe
not expecting much
makes it easier
not to hate you
because hate
is a heavy burden
and you're already
packing more
than a whole block's worth
and i can't lie, that i
don't relish, but still
take a small amount
of comfort
in your frustration, when those boys
broke into your house
to steal nothing but your comfort
and ease, to let you know
that they'd been there
and i don't expect you
found any justice
in the iron
HomeMy parents bought the house on April Fools Day.  It was something of a running joke: should have known, Dad would say, tightening yet another leaking faucet.  It was a sign, Mom said, staring down a nest of carpenter wasps.  In truth, they were never lucky with dates.  Got married on D-Day, had a kid on Thanksgiving.  JFK was assassinated on my Dad’s birthday; Brenda Ann Spencer went on her killing spree on my Mom’s.  Holidays were always a touchy thing.
My second birthday was spent in the new house—a gorgeous, rambling affair in the heart of what had been a boom town during the years of the Erie Canal, and was now just a sleepy commuter village.  They’d lived in consistently horrible neighborhoods up to that point.  Dad had been mugged a block from their first apartment.  A neighbor had been brutally beaten and robbed near their second.  My Mom would recall with wonder the first week they moved int
There Are No Fond Memories of the Garage SaleWe sold the old maternal dress.
The round fade on the worn womb
was greyed and thin. Someone left
a hole unstitched, a hem unpressed.
Everything that went too soon
had stuck around: the old blue dress,
the rocking horse, the rusted wrest
we thought we lost. We never tuned
the baby grand. The sound it left
became a prank to play on guests:
a soundtrack for an empty room,
a child’s ghost inside the dress.
We’ve come so far from being pests.
The blood that rushed to soothe the wounds
our mother’s wooden spoon had left
is calm. We are ready to forget –
un-know the pain. We assume
our mother sold the dress,
as grey and thin as someone left.  
grandmothershe died in 1990,
a stern lady
who had worn her hair in a bun.
she was from old farm days,
when one didn't care for caprice,
and didn't object routine.
as if to ward off danger,
she'd spray vinegar
on frightful stormy nights.1
people came to her because she knew
what those wax formations on water meant:
what caused recurring fever, which prayer could work.2
a town cook, 3
Ina4 could whip up a feast
and make me forget my name.
she was lady-steel until the morning when
her firstborn didn't rise from sleep 5
and so she refused to be and no longer laughed.
she mellowed
and with all her wisdom, i felt
she had no words for sorrow.
© May 29, 2015 :house:
Beauty To A Second GraderMy seven year old sister asked me
if she was skinny enough today.
I told her even if she were the size
of a swimming pool
she would still be the most beautiful
creature on this entire earth,
and she asked me
"If I were so beautiful, tell me why
I feel so ugly"
My seven year old sister asked me
if she looked good in her new dress,
and I asked myself how on earth
she was lead to believe any less than
perfect of herself,
and it made me realize that I never
told her how good she has to be
for herself.
The Mind's Own Place Ch. 1One
There is an Angel staring at me.
I don't mean "angel" in the way of the cutesy nickname men in bars give to women they want to fuck. Or the favorite child of a doting mother. It's not even some Good Samaritan doing deeds that make others proclaim them a saint. No, this is a capital-letter-A Angel straight from Heaven, the ones whose introductions always begin with "Be not afraid!" because otherwise they're too terrifying to bear. You know, that kind of Angel.
If you happen to be wondering how you can recognize one, it's the eyes that give them away. They don't glow, or change color or suddenly look different in a way that would alert you to the fact you're not talking to a human. It's not even a newness—that wet look of a freshly-peeled hardboiled egg—that the young and innocent have. Angels have old eyes, but it's the way they hold them that makes their strangeness obvious. Their brows are a little too high, raised in permanent surprise at the world around them. Blinki
Sinking of the SSS Dungong    Power is a very silly thing to crave.  There are much nicer things to want, like love, or water (rare enough to be wanted here), or good salted fish.
    Really, there can't be any reason to want power other than simply to have it: it doesn't tickle any primal mammalian desires, unless you count the desire to have control over other people.  Controlling others means you yourself are not being controlled by them, but if it's freedom you're searching for, why not put your energy into simply wanting that?
    No, all power gets you is more work and harder work.  Naturally, of all the crew and officers on the SSS Dungong, the captain with all his power has the most difficult work of all — at the moment, he is performing the work of going down with his ship.
    And I am looking down at the iron deck of the Dungong some twenty meters below, and the sands some twenty-five, frothing with moistur
Imaginary FriendI sat on the plush rug, waiting patiently for Delilah. Everyday after school she would meet me in the treehouse to talk. She had purposefully picked a place that symbolized childhood. A treehouse forgotten when its own children had grown up. I supposed she had never had the chance to have a hideaway of her own. I worried quite a bit about my dear Delilah, she had a darkness following her precise and delicate movements. She tiptoed around the word, but I still knew. There was a reason she was stuck in her rather immature ways. 
Right on time, exactly 3:17, I saw her charcoal hair peek around the make-shift curtain. "Brandon!" I love the way she smiled at me as if we didn't see each other every day. She knew I'd be there, but she still acted surprised every time. 
"Hello Delilah, how was your day?" I smiled encouragingly. She slowly sat crosslegged next to me, her overflowing backpack placed carefully onto my lap. 
"I'm okay. Today was a good day. I'd rather talk about you
i shall bathe in country watersThe idea was that any man could be changed.
       “The perversions of the mind — corrected!
       The darkness of the heart — purified!
       The turpitude of the soul — remedied!”
The answer had arrived; my sickness, once thought to be incurable, could now be treated. No longer would I pass the sprawling grove that prefaced my father’s home and know that I am unwelcome; no longer would I spend restless nights in the arms of another man, the feeling of blood on my hands.
I could change. I could return to the grove with a proper lover, and I would know how to love her. My father would look upon my face once more. The years I had spent swinging from acacia, plucking the honey suckle, bathing in country waters — they would return to me.
On the day of my appointment, I gave the grove one final passing. I allowed myself a moment to stare down the jade and hickory hil
MorningMy patchy kettle sulkingly burns my coffee residue
fresh-hot from yesterday's muck.
I gratuitously choke on it,
easing smoke through my gullet
like that pervasive daily sun eases mulishly
lace snagged and uninvited;
slick into my newborn retinas.
I can see in the white, bleach-light of noon
we are sick of the birdsong;
the light shaking disappointed fists
while I sit, my bed-sweaty back braced against it:
I wheeze through my coffee and sit vigil.
Bedding coils in dormant patience for the night;
viper-nightmares snooze, folded in my sheets -
damply layered,
they awake only to my scent. My daytimes watch them,
my nighttimes are their reign.
I sleep alone, these days -
my covers feathered hell-fire,
pillows fattened with shame.

:iconsingingflames: Features by SingingFlames

tutorialtake an evening -
reclassify emotions as chemical compounds.
remove one atom,
see what changes.
take your field notes, transcribe them
back to front.
add line breaks.
be scientific. be too scientific.
replace the word 'entropy'
with the word 'god'.
be so full of want that you can feel it
scraping its numb jaws against your insides.
write about flowers instead.
make your first line provocative.
follow it, let it unfurl -
ctrl a.
inauthentic, try again.
ctrl z.
who the fuck
wants authenticity
read, find inspiration.
find new ways to plagiarize old ideas.
stop reading.
hash and rehash,
slash and burn.
look at the mess you've made.
add punctuation
as decoration.
spend an hour flicking back and forth -
write about family. if it hurts too little,
write about flowers instead.
use a word bank.
write in the dark.
write from within your own skull.
write drunk.
write your litanies.
write your lines.
write your
before_ever notice how your fingers curl perfectly into the dip of your palm? how your knuckles rise like snow capped mountains and your whole hand flushes cold and pale? how you can feel the burn of your fingernails digging into your gentle skin, because it doesn't want to fight? how, even after you release the tension, your hand stays white for a moment, with little crescentic indents left amongst its smooth creases, because it remembers? it remembers your fist.
but it soon forgets. it forgets the pressure, and flushes warm and pink again, and the burn quiets away and the quarter-moons smooth out, and you're left with blood on your knuckles that you'll wash away.
the bruises will disappear, and the scars will fade, because the skin hates to remember any more than she does.

:iconthemaideninblack: Features by TheMaidenInBlack

...because all men are brothers    “‘Bout fuckin’ time, look, he’s coming up over there.” The man on the bench beside me tapped my thigh and pointed down the darkened maglev tracks. “Twenty minutes out in the cold, Christ… now don’t you think they should run these fuckin’ trains on time? I only gotta go one stop away, might be faster for me to walk at this point, huh, sweetheart?” He spoke in a mumbling slur, shaking his head, swathed in a stained maroon North Face parka.
    I leaned forward and looked down the track. Aside from us, the platform was empty, lit hesitantly by blue OLED panels that flickered on a collection of dirty benches and overflowing rubbish bins. Silent fields of scrubby grass, gray in the moonlight, extended to the hills on one side; the plant lights glowed behind me.
    “I said hey, don’t you think– this shit needs to be run on time? Eh?” The man jostled pointedly
Delusions of Grandeur
Work was done on sinking ships
In a different time, in a different place.
I had carved my name in the first piece
Of rubble to reach the ocean floor.
Hell was on the high seas,
And I went with the anchor
In the waters of what I thought
Might be my shallow grave.
Atlantis was my refuge,
For I swam with closed eyes
Out of fear of the salt.
I merely felt my way down.
I heard the howling and war
Just above my feet as I descended.
I felt the bubbles of my last breath
rush over me and back from whence they came.
I cared so little as my lungs screamed,
And the pressure crushed my being.
The anchor swam for me as submerged tides
Carried my blind way down.
Had I let go, I might have
swam away from Hell,
Though I feared one journey
more than the other.
I think I will awaken
I think I shall live
I think I can dwell
In Atlantis, should it be found.
That One Show with the Stuff and the ThingsCurtain rises. REPORTER, MR. JABOWSKI, and JACOB are all sitting around a small round table. REPORTER is writing in notepad with a bowler hat in his lap.
MR. JABOWSKI: The day my wife acquired magical powers, we sold the family business. It was the only logical choice considering that the ability to uncontrollably shoot fire out of one’s hands was not exactly conducive to maintaining a fireworks factory. I was devastated, naturally. This business had been passed down through my family for generations, from father to son ever since fireworks were first invented back in 1802.
REPORTER: Um, weren’t fireworks technically invented way back in 7th century China?
MR. JABOWSKI: No no, that’s just another government cover up ploy. You see, my ancestors, they were British. Brought fireworks to America personally when they came here. These silly American’s just don’t want to admit that the British actually did something cooler than themselves, they would rathe
Familial    “He used to scream at me for anything that went wrong, even if it wasn’t my fault.” Becca tells me, sitting across from me on the couch and fiddling with the pockets of her jacket. “The abuse pretty quickly went from verbal to physical. He’d hold me down on the ground and choke me until I passed out. One time, I jabbed him in the ribs as hard as I could to make him let go, and he punched me so hard in the jaw, it cracked my back teeth.”
    I nod. She’s not telling me anything I couldn’t have guessed. Nothing he could’ve done to her would surprise me.
    “When he found out I was pregnant, he tried to beat her out of me. He’d punch me as hard as he could, putting me back on the bed so he was hitting right on the mark. The whole time he kept punching and kicking me in the stomach, he was telling me he loved me. He was doing it because he loved me.” I halfway expect he
Mountain ManIt’s 9:30 AM on a snow-bright morning and he’s whistling loudly. He treads through slush, meets us college kids at the bus stop, and speaks with alcohol-stale breath.
“G’mornin’, young ladies!” He sounds like country and warm summer farms.
We smile and nod, let him ramble because no one likes a drunkard. No one likes the obnoxious honesty, the rancid vulnerability. Keep the sadness at home, sir, for you must be a sad, sad man to be drinking so early. Or, if you don’t have overdue bills and four nicotine-stained walls, finish your beer at your usual street corner.
Don’t speak to him.
Ignore him.

“I’m fifty-four years old!” He takes a staggering swig and the iced sidewalk suddenly seems perilous. “I’ve lived a looong, long life!”
The screeching of bus brakes beckons dread. A couple of us glance at each other, not intentionally being cruel with our judgment, but it’s a Monday morning and we ar
The Stars (Are Out Tonight) - Full VersionSquinting at his reflection, Frankie put the final touches on his makeup. He did a quick itinerary check of the contents of his purse, hitched up his tights, adjusted the starry metallic fabric of his miniskirt and blew his reflection a kiss. Not perfect, but it would have to pass muster as he was already far too late. 
It was Saturday night and his brother Henry was being moody, watching reruns of the same news that had been playing on the telly all day, as though he was still waiting for the ramifications to sink in.
—Population levels have now reached an all time high, prompting Governments across the globe to once again consider Dr. John Eisen’s long disputed Planned-Birth Policy, which would require licensing and pre-approval for prospective parents. Making all non-approved births, in essence, illegal.
The proposal has sparked serious concerns among the growing pro-life supporters in Great Britain and across the world. They claim that it is
PoltercatI always considered myself a person of reason, and of course, at the time I had reasoned that the boxed cat on the passenger's seat of my automobile couldn't possibly be the one I had run over.
It was a common breed, with a common coat. Statistically speaking, the identical hanger on the identical collar could have been a freak occurrence, though wholly explainable by chance, given enough cats with non-matching accessories being run over on a global scale on a daily basis.
Coming home, I had just enough time to unbox the animal and reach for the telephone, before I learned that my great-aunt had died in hospital, and I realised that my 'guest' was now promoted to heirloom and my official property.
-”Auntie's dead,” I told the scraggy thing. It blinked, once and slowly. 'I know' it seemed to imply, somehow smugly.
And that was that – for that day.
I woke up to the smell of coffee – an unfamiliar thing, given my bachelor's life. The brew sat
It's The Distance, I Think.It was sitting on our kitchen counter-
Brown glazed and curved, like her-
Perched next to the microwave.
I thought it would best hold
Her spatula and my two bamboo spoons.
She filled it with yellow tulips and
Pink carnations and hydrangea blossoms and
Told me to "Get your own spoon vase"
With bells in her voice and
Her cheeks dimpled and her eyes crinkled,
And I wrapped my arms around her waist and
Punished her back-sass by tickling her ribs until
We were a jumbled mess, strewn
Across the tile floor- with flushed cheeks and
Not a worry in the world.  
These days, the curved brown jar
Sits next to my stove top and
Holds my two bamboo spoons,
Three of my own spatulas and a metal whisk.
The tiles have been replaced with hardwood
And my eyes never crinkle
And I can't remember the way hydrangeas smell.
Dementia Takes HimSay hello to the old man and
he'll respond with good morning
because he's lost his track on time.
He stands like a hunched statue
and shuffles about like
a child still testing his steps.
Deteriorate and deteriorate
until all words become movements,
until movements become a thought.
He does not bother to sit
for any of his meals but reaches
for it from a standing position
like a cautious animal.
Sleep. His sleeping habits
would make a sloth smile.
Rest in the hospital bed
but stay in your home.
Deteriorate and deteriorate
until words become movements.
Just flesh and bone,
just so much bone to the old man,
a fragile case of worn out paper.
Deteriorate and deteriorate
until all words become movements,
until all movements become thought,
until all thought becomes dark.
Blackout Poetry 3 by ClassyWalruses The Wall [Teaser]     "You took care of everything, right?"
    Miles fumbled with the key ring in the darkness. His heart pounded. He couldn't see the other man in the shadows, but he could feel his breath on his face, and he could hear him as he reached into his coat pocket. Something cool and flat was pressed against Miles' arm, then slipped into the pocket of his dress pants.
    "You can keep your name and everything," Jace assured him. Miles pictured his smug grin and bit the inside of his cheek; his hand slipped, and the key sliced the side of his wrist.
    "You'd better keep up your end," he mumbled. Jace reached over and pried the key ring from his hands.
    "You know I will." There was a soft clink as the key slid effortlessly onto the metal ring. Jace dropped it back into Miles' shaking palm.
    "How do I find the place?" Miles put the ring in his pocket alongside what he assumed was an ID car
lynx lore.grass underneath my bare, boney feet
heat lightning splicing through the air,
hot, & thick, & buzzing
summer nights,
feeling good about the fact that:
you don't know how I love Run the Jewels,
I didn't get them from you
&, you don't know what I thought in that van, but I do
&, I am trying to forgive you
but, here I am dancing, & lonely, & not
here I am unshaven legs & ten shades of I don't give a fuck
here I still love the world, bruises, scars & all
I catch myself breathing,
in four,
out four
so steady, so stretched, so still;
a lynx before the leap
Will I also returnI was young as spring,
and held to autumn's wind
like pomegranates  
in the highest branches,  
before crows hollowed them  
autumn flurries return
with the scent of fallen fruit,
dying leaves
crushed underfoot,  
shelter for next spring

:iconliliwrites: Features by LiliWrites

Throwback ThursdayYou know what I miss?
The simple days
Of aimless buses and trains,
Like magic carpets
That helped us to escape,
If only for a little while.
I miss the endless walks
That led to hours of
Shopping center shenanigans--
Spinning in desk chairs,
Petting that little blind kitten,
And reading anything
From cheesy joke books
To Frost's melancholic verse.
I miss cheap deli lunches,
Discounted coffee house milkshakes, and
Midnight conversations on the swings
At your old elementary school,
With the moon so bright that
I could see your T-shirt.
Remember that time when, hot chocolate in hand,
We followed the sound
Of live fiesta music
Sailing on the hollow winter air
Until we nearly crashed
A Hispanic family's party?
Or what about the moments
Of heartbroken silence
When we discovered
The ruins of a piano
At the church
That was once your daycare?
I remember climbing, barefoot,
Halfway up Ricky's fence
To watch his illegal fireworks
And stealing Mom's car
In the dead of night,
Just for store-bought C
an infinitesimal sibilancea wisp of a whisper
remains in possessions
long after we're gone
perhaps forever
things we create
or build
or just treasure
faint echoes of others
faint echoes of us
still here
llp - dA - oct2013
DD - jun03/2015
StrayMy father
alone in the white, white room.
This place, which is not empty
but emptied
which was my fig leaf, my raison
de fierté

seems small as a crab shell.
Enough for his back,
his hideous grief.
Little else. It is unforgivable
to leave him so little
to leave him, that dark body
in that blinding room.
The Crying Of BirdsI pluck their calls from the sky,
Stuff them into my pocket like so many marbles.
Sometimes I cast them on the ground
And like runes they advise me,
Nudge me about things I already know.
Afterwards I’ll scoop them up and in cupped hands
Breathe gently into a cave of skin.
Then there will be music.
en routemy body is the
abandoned bank
on main street;
my body is the
burnt hull of an
apartment complex
only now in repair;
my body is a
feeling of shame,
a pungent rot,
a score of roadkill
in half decay.
my body is migratory:
a flock of wearied birds,
a search for belonging,
the fat on my hips.
with too few windows
and a steep indoor climb,
my body is home.
LokiWe are born in pain, all of us. When that first breath of oxygen touches our lungs and it tastes of fire in our bodies, it is then we are known to be alive – screaming our indignation that this is the life we've been brought into, that this is how the world will greet us. With suffering. I was no different, whimpering softly, stunned at the sensation in my infant body, wondering why it must be that my entrance to this life hurt. It was only appropriate, then, that my birth as a god was through agony.
Sometimes, when walking home after dark, I'd play this scenario through in my head. I was raised to believe I'd be attacked by men. I knew how I kept the mace in the front pocket of my purse, although I'd been too timid to take the lid off and figure out how to actually use it. I was reckless in my disregard, knowing full well what I'd been taught growing up, and then discarding it the next moments with only the outside illusion of playing by the rules. Instead, I saw in my head what
HeadwatersAlmost 30.
Where did I sleep the decade away?
Under a desk.
In a factory.
Stone frozen in the cascades.
I fell prey to cow songs,
the nightly lowing.
Some christ called me back.
Not my sister in red canyons,
not my cousin
or the thick gumbo of my youth.
Nor did the
honeysuckles trill me
                   my lover, I woke to find you
At first when I heard you
it was a mosquito in my ear.
You called.
You called and called and
you were waiting
down in the well
three paces from
the patio door.
The bucket and rope
I threw down in front of me,
Pulley and rod tossed
into the tall Bermuda grass.
I have jumped into
              the water,
  the rich black earth.
And from there
can be no ascent.
WaitingThe summer of ‘67, funerals fanned out
like a poker hand in Mother’s family.
You could see she'd waited a lifetime
for this one, black dress in plastic,
handkerchief ironed and folded, ready.
She forced herself to touch the badge,
the service revolver he'd used, his Stetson,
sweat-stained on a hook in the hall.
She would conjure everything in time,
enough to rise above the casseroles,
the Jello salads melting in our kitchen,
hoarded tears poised above the glare
of Tupperware and Avon calling.
It was in the way she held her mouth,
her breath, waiting for something beautiful.
A childhood ago, summer nights,
her skin had prickled at the crunch of gravel,
his boots, hard across the floor,
the smells - leather, cigar smoke,
Macallan on his breath.
A five-year old wears innocence like iron
and a paper crown, shedding glitter.
She'd filled herself with crickets' song,
flown with fireflies beyond the glass,
as she waited for something beautiful.
Monsanto CafeHe looked up from his chemistry notes to see her staring at him intently from across the table. She sat with her hands clasped around a cup of dandelion tea, eyebrows furrowed and lips frowning bright red over the white china rim.
“Do you ever stop and think,” she said, slowly and purposefully, “that you could have been a binder?”
He looked down at the binder in his hands. She’d been staring at his notes, not at him. “Sorry, what?” he said, slightly annoyed.
“Just think. Your body is made of billions of atoms. What was the probability those exact atoms would come together to make you?”
“Your point being?”
She sipped pensively at her tea. “Well, what if something had happened? The chances those atoms would get like this –” she jabbed a finger at him “– right here, right now, were amazingly small. One mishap and they could have become anything else. You could have been a dog, an asteroi
jerichoshe must have dreamed him,
assembled of slow pieces
that clutched
and called in the dark
she is a temple
and he is dismantling her
with chorused glories
that terrace and
he bleeds desire,
an ache to sculpt her;
a curse born of ruin,
a silence crafted sharp
in flickered glances
and in flame.
she must have known him,
borne witness as he
stormed and conquered
with shadows rampant
at his back
and she must have seen him
behind shut eyes;
not as he will be
nor as he is,
but as she
would have him;
arching hallelujahs
under the domes
of her doomed
The Gap - Page 38 by Peris-Productions MercyI don't want to die.
No one does, I suppose. It's a natural human instinct to keep on living. But that doesn't stop the hands of fate. The hands that, as soon as their cold fingertips brush against your skin, you're gone.
The hands of the ones they call Angels.
They aren't real angels. Real angels don't exist. Just as God doesn't exist. There are no benevolent beings with crystalline white wings and halos burning with heavenly fire - there is no supreme existence sitting on a golden throne watching from above. Not anymore, at least. If they ever did exist then we killed them long ago and as punishment, the universe created the Angels that we know now.
It was an accident. As are most things these days. Three hundred and then some years ago, back when people still went to church and prayed to whatever deity they had conjured up in their minds, it happened. The stories say it was a joint effort of an elite handful of scientists gathered from around the world. They had meant well; s

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Journal Entry: Sun Jul 5, 2015, 5:20 AM
The light at the end by HippieVan57
Solitude by Etimasia Meanwhile by KizukiTamura- Solitude by Etimasia 
is freedom still legal by davespertine Fly by Etimasia is freedom still legal by davespertine 
Haphephobia/ Chirophilia by Saturns-Child rome 104 by AlexGrifo  Haphephobia/ Chirophilia by Saturns-Child
Echo by zoundsister
19IIHNG. by Irennas
a skewer by davespertine Bern by dasTOK a skewer by davespertine 
== by neinoten love triangles by PsycheAnamnesis == by neinoten
Broken Synapse by Ragnar949 09 MARS 2014 - AN EIGHTH by JFBAYLE Broken Synapse by Ragnar949 
Poise and rationality by Andaelentari
Sabiduria a flor de piel (Wisdom on the skin) by Yourmung
Nevazul by AlexandrinaAna Dark Moments by SenhArt Nevazul by AlexandrinaAna
Cuore in me by martaraff 0160 by weltengang Cuore in me by martaraff 
Vertigo by jonniedee Humid by KizukiTamura Vertigo by jonniedee 
remember by Silpius
hissizlik by Silpius
baloooons by aerendial licence to print flowers by davespertine baloooons by aerendial 
remember last winter by augenweide Motion 4 by zoundsister remember last winter by augenweide 
Gentle Claws by vamosver Kawah Putih by Hengki24 Gentle Claws by vamosver 
Krake by feigenfrucht
The Binding Tides Of Life by Trippy4U
Singularity by tholang Zebra by da-phil Singularity by tholang 
Follow the Straight Line by DpressedSoul little lady by ColorfulGrape Follow the Straight Line by DpressedSoul
silhouette... by ansdesign Be missing by teodoratan silhouette... by ansdesign 
meeting point (diptych with KizukiTamura) by Tom-Ripley
Meissner 01 by HorstSchmier
Depicting The Inexplicable (Omaggio a C.M.Mariani) by SenhArt Patient No.150514 by JillAuville Depicting The Inexplicable (Omaggio a C.M.Mariani) by SenhArt
journey to infinity by MWeiss-Art Light Pants by djailledie journey to infinity by MWeiss-Art 

Mature Content

Self-Communication Breakdown IX by Epytafe
 Black moon by GrauenAndMWeissArt 

Mature Content

Self-Communication Breakdown IX by Epytafe
Going  To The Metro by Canankk
Sightseeing by molecularlight
Multitude by azieser Equilibrium by penguintuxado Multitude by azieser 
Corridor. by heatherorchard Shanghai - Light from China by xMEGALOPOLISx Corridor. by heatherorchard 
Image by dasTOK I Still Believe in Miracles by tholang Image by dasTOK
If Only It Were So Simple by analillithbar
Taking flight by meszarts
Forget Me Not II by dalay-lamma I Watched Them Hang by LeaHenning Forget Me Not II by dalay-lamma
Punch by Poromaa a way up by Annanoke Punch by Poromaa
Cimetiere du Nord, Montmartre. by tunguska-rdm Omerta. by Noir-Division Cimetiere du Nord, Montmartre. by tunguska-rdm
pieces of my art vol5 by ekaragiorgi
breathing by chriseastmids
aka Harry Powers by Grimjest SheFace by Grimjest aka Harry Powers by Grimjest
Dorian Gray lineart by Botan Last Sigh Against The Storm by lien Dorian Gray lineart by Botan 
Postulare by VoiderMann Lupinus Charm by vamosver Postulare by VoiderMann 
Exempt by Metal-Bender
The passing time by meszarts
Back to the beginning of the end... by Coigach Levels by Aarrd Back to the beginning of the end... by Coigach 
Let's meet someday on the other planet by NikiAndo People to go away by staroh Let's meet someday on the other planet by NikiAndo
Almost There by Aarrd Horror Library: The Best of 1-5 book cover by Parker-Weston Almost There by Aarrd 
[] (VIII) by mehrmeer
A Bridge For Tears by Trippy4U
Perfect day for walk by LidiaRossana Forget Your Problems by CristianoTeofili Perfect day for walk by LidiaRossana 
AURORA 4 by metamage The Scholar by metamage AURORA 4 by metamage
Behind you by Grimjest Pieces by penguintuxado Behind you by Grimjest 
The Only Moment We Were Alone by Metal-Bender
darkness consumes light by Andaelentari
Dreaming Of You by metamage ID 2013 by Callme-Ismael Dreaming Of You by metamage 
Untitled by lwc71 Saturday, June 20 by benjoin Untitled by lwc71
Hope and Fear by Inextremiss <da:thumb id="538455880"/> Hope and Fear by Inextremiss 
[] (VI) by mehrmeer
sunrise? by BobRock99
Passage-34 by Sblourg gRaViTaTiOnZ iN 3 dIrEkTiOnZ by nenmayk Passage-34 by Sblourg 
Thursday, June 11 by AlexandrinaAna FATHER AND SON... by BobRock99 Thursday, June 11 by AlexandrinaAna
Surreal Gardens, Fruits from Beyond w/Offermoord by MadGardens Strassenlampe by Ann-Wvyn Surreal Gardens, Fruits from Beyond w/Offermoord by MadGardens 
The Whale by JamesSkeltonSmith
Usine by mimomon more often than not by davespertine Usine by mimomon
alien cities by AlicjaRodzik Echo by zoundsister alien cities by AlicjaRodzik
sunfire by augenweide Lineart Girl BW by IsabelleMaria sunfire by augenweide 
She wants to be your love by SenhArt
ark by davespertine Positive and Negative III by iram ark by davespertine 
Crossrefractions by FabioKeiner  Shadow and light. by LaFleurdeLys Crossrefractions by FabioKeiner 
dead end iii by ohlin84 Anybody...anyone who haven't broken my heart yet? by BlindEyeTwist dead end iii by ohlin84 
Claire by madbaumer37
Save Me by LashelleValentine
bury her deep by Inextremiss Faith by tsukiko-kiyomidzu bury her deep by Inextremiss 
Glow by DpressedSoul Per un'amica by SenhArt Glow by DpressedSoul
sky of steel by Tom-Ripley rEvolution by dermamred sky of steel by Tom-Ripley 
Untitled by yup12
Leukophobia by OnurKorpeoglu
**** by esmahanozkan caught between ahead and behind by davespertine **** by esmahanozkan
Reach by djailledie rainroom by ohlin84 Reach by djailledie 
AB2015-182 ... Dark by Xantipa2 exhibit by davespertine AB2015-182 ... Dark by Xantipa2 
Black-n-White Dream_11 by caddman
Untitled by yup12
Mademoiselle E. by atelier-de-figueline attendre son heure by baspunk Mademoiselle E. by atelier-de-figueline 
wikileak by davespertine surface by ohlin84 wikileak by davespertine
Ephesus Menorah by lostknightkg Men and Figure by aerendial Ephesus Menorah by lostknightkg 
The Great Grey Owl and the Angry Crows by hummbuzz
Prickly Beauties by vamosver rome 104 by AlexGrifo Prickly Beauties by vamosver
Free like a Bird by Einsilbig Insekten / Insects by falconer137 Free like a Bird by Einsilbig
Lineart Girl BW by IsabelleMaria Shadow bird by vanillapearl Lineart Girl BW by IsabelleMaria 
[] (I) by mehrmeer
Image by dasTOK help me disappear by ohlin84 Image by dasTOK
 Dead city by leoatelier Dieweg V by Herculanum Dead city by leoatelier 
fonte da serra _id by ruiManuelR a branch in the perfect sky by davespertine fonte da serra _id by ruiManuelR 
CO Hain by feigenfrucht
WATERrock1 by mando-damon
compo0 by Ialo-wa Image by jfdupuis compo0 by Ialo-wa 
Motion by zoundsister Moon walk by LidiaRossana Motion by zoundsister
Particularly irritated by amiejo le chat avec les oiseaux by baspunk Particularly irritated by amiejo
I fiumi by dermamred
[] (II) by mehrmeer
...of my soul by Mheely Cowtastrophe in Brown Meadow by tholang ...of my soul by Mheely
Untitled by mldzz MAN -02 by atelier-de-figueline Untitled by mldzz
   shadows of love by EtoileSU self 4 ::: by aopan shadows of love by EtoileSU 
Afternoon Workflow by shanperas

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