Gays in the mediaI would like to acknowledge the traditional owners of the land on which we stand today, and offer my own apology for the generations of displacement and mistreatment they have suffered since white settlement.Gays in the media12 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
Though I live life openly as a gay man, I don't really conform to many of the current stereotypes.
On the surface, I've got a goatee -- granted -- but it's often wild and bushy only rarely clipped to perfection. And as you can see, the closest I've come to chiselled pecs and a six pack for many a year are man-boobs and a barrel-belly.
And while I sometimes secretly aspire to owning a collection of Armani suits, lately I've been wondering if I'm the shortest man ever to buy from the big men's section at Tar-jay.
I've never worshipped at the altar of Kylie Minogue. I suspect that if I was stranded on a desert island with a Walkman and just a Kylie CD to remind me of humanity, chances are pretty good I'd drown myself (Nothing personal Kylie).
I didn't 'come out' until I was 28 after
Viva the Social (Media) Revolution!Ladies and Gents this here is my brand new planViva the Social (Media) Revolution!3 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It’s guaranteed to take down the man
First up we list all his wrongs
In a protest album full of remixed songs
Step two is even better
Hit him with a petition and an open letter
For step three we’ll ruin his trip to Tahiti
By daubing his beach house in artistic graffiti
And when he’s reeling like a cat in the rain
We’ll move in for the kill with a human chain
And expose him as a man most bitter
With paint bombs and a ton of glitter
And of course we’ll be coordinating via facebook and twitter
Not EveryNot every man is a sexistNot Every5 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Not every woman is a saint.
Not every white person is a racist;
You might think it’s so, but it ain’t.
Not every straight is a homophobe
Not every LGBT person is nice.
Not every rich person is a snob;
I won’t tell you twice.
Not every Muslim is a terrorist
Not every Christian is kind.
Not every cishet person is scum;
Please keep that in mind.
Not every human being is evil
Not every human being is good.
Can’t we all just try to get along;
I really think that we should.
Your life is not a British television showPeople on social media sitesYour life is not a British television show6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
tend to glorify things that hurt.
They brag about things
that people struggle with.
Mental illness is not a label.
It is not a badge nor a privilege
or something you have to earn.
they battle voices in their heads
that they do not even recognize.
People struggle to tame
their inner demons
and keep up an image
that the world expects them to uphold.
Mental illness is not cute,
being so anxious you cannot speak is not a quirk.
Relying on people to take care of you is not romantic.
Your life is not an episode of Skins
The idea of Effy and Freddie is fictional,
no one is going to save you.
We go home and muffle our cries
while dragging razors across our wrists
chasing pills with bottles of vodka.
Our thoughts turn on us
Like a loaded gun,
and we are stuck forever
in a game of Russian roulette.
We wear long sleeves,
and try to drown out voices with headphones.
We tremble at the thought of giving up the chemicals
we have become dependent
Happy BirthdayThis is not a poem.Happy Birthday10 months ago in Emotional More Like This
It's not even a story.
This is a simple observation.
Today I was on Facebook, a dangerously common occurrence for me. Borderline addiction, possibly. I looked to the right column where events and birthdays are posted, and noticed it was a friend's birthday. And I hesitated in saying anything.
I hesitated to say happy birthday to a friend. Why?
Was it because we only had one community college class together a couple of years ago, so our friendship is little more than a past acquaintance that hasn't yet ceased to exist on a social media site?
Was it because I didn't have the time to type out those two simple words, perhaps even a dot of punctuation if I'm splurging on free time? The answer to this question is no, because even though I have a quiz tomorrow and two midterms next week, I was clearly distracted on Facebook nonetheless. Besides, I'm typing this now, and it's quite more extensive than a happy birthday.
Was it because I thought it would be awkward if he got
Social NetworkingTwitter is for telling the world every single thing you do.Social Networking3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Facebook is for saying the thoughts that only you choose.
Formspring is for your self esteem to be attacked with a strafe.
and Tumblr is the only place that can be called safe.
The PoetThe Poet:The Poet2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He smiles as he sees her sleeping
& gently covers her with a blanket.
He goes to the window and looks out
watching snow fall, ever so slowly...
He sees people in the streets,
Chatting, walking. Some happy,
Others sad. Hearts beating,
Hearts broken; some warm, some cold.
He looks back at her, as she stirs in bed.
A yawn from her, brings another smile to him:
"How cute," he chuckles as he strokes her head.
He runs his fingers through her hair and is content.
Yet, even if he is happy here, again -
He is drawn to that window and finds himself
Staring out at the street and watching;
Marveling at the disparity and wondering -
Isn't there something that I can do?
Isn't there a better way for us all?
He looks back at her, sleeping peacefully;
He thinks about the future and sighs.
He wants a better world for her,
One where she would always be safe,
But unfortunately, he has no power.
He is just one man with little to his name.
He picks up a piece of paper, one found lyin
Tanka for Social Mediahearts touch, but not fleshTanka for Social Media2 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
meet we can, but then cannot
blessing and a bane
you ache for me, I for you
souls bridge an infinite void
Practice Poem - Man In CagePractice Poem - Man in Cage:Practice Poem - Man In Cage2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
When I was young I was taught that pain begets pain,
Anger and animosity, malice and cruelty;
So deeply inflicted, so lovingly gifted.
I tasted of its rotten core and dared to call it sweet.
But what do I have to show for it?
White hot scars that burn in my dreams.
Reminders of a fragmented bi-polar self;
Self inflicted propaganda, to reinforce the "truth".
Truth so lovingly fabricated by a weakness within,
So desperately crying out for vindication;
Openly denying all that might shed light upon me,
Seeking only the company of shades in shadows...
Within four walls I sleep in exile;
Quietly pretending that I am still sane,
Never noticing how it has all turned out;
Alone I remain the same...
Never reaching, never living; I am free within the cage
-Chen Yuan Wen, 1st January 2012
My Soul, My Dream, My TeamMy Soul, My Dream, My Team:My Soul, My Dream, My Team2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
We are dreamers, we humans.
We reach out eagerly to that which lies above us
Tempted by its unattainable nature and egotistically;
We simplify the task that lies before us...
We climb without any forethought, without preparation;
Recklessly we charge head on for our goal -
And eventually, we lie broken by our failure.
I myself, Captain as you call me,
Am little better than a foolish dreamer.
One who dreams in a childish manner;
Unaware of his impotence, when left alone.
How many times have I been saved by others?
When I lack time, it is my officers who stand,
They keep the ship running smoothly,
Expending hours of precious effort.
When I fall, it is my co-captain who rallies me,
And reminds me of our responsibility -
One that we owe to our readers and friends.
When I write, it is my team - my uncles,
Who lay the path before me;
They give their time and their heart,
Supporting my work from its birth as but a simple idea.
And when I am dow
Glowing ScreenI’ve seen the worldGlowing Screen1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
Through a glowing screen.
Yet, I still feel the furthest
I’ve ever been
To it all.
Woman's WorldHe wakes upWoman's World4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and notices nothing unusual.
He wanders downstairs in skimpy pjs, switches on the radio
The breakfast show, a witty host and her regulation male sidekick-
the butt of the jokes.
The news is going, that abducted boy found dead, sexually abused, throttled
A woman helping with inquiries
Bored of the chatter he turns it off
Eats his cereal before the telly, a music channel
Women in baggy jeans singing about how nice men look
in clubs, dancing topless around holes.
He unconsciously scrutinises the semi-clad men that surround her
Winding their perfect bodies in sync to the beat, hip rolling
Looks down at his own belly, thinks, I'll skip lunch.
In the shower he shampoos his long hair,
Fretting about baldness
this constant battle with his body.
He shaves his legs, his armpits, his belly
Scans his chest and thighs for regrowth
wonders when he should next visit the salon.
He shaves his jaw.
He dresses uncomfortably
Can't buy anything without some kind of
Levi x Reader: Bitch please, it's fabulous 1You sat at your mahogany desk sipping apple juice through a straw from a small carton because that's all you could afford with your poverty-stricken wallet. Your desk sat between two hallways on the left and right, one leading to Erwin's part of the building and the other leading to the vile, wretched, heartless bastard named fucking Levi.Levi x Reader: Bitch please, it's fabulous 12 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
Fucking bitchy, sassy Levi.
It was abso-fucking-lutely amazing how easily emotions for another person could change. A week ago, you were head over heels for Levi.
Well, let's just say that at the very least, you wouldn't mind chopping off a certain member of his to cause him excruciating pain and deter him from breeding.
Oh, if only you could----
"Oi brat, what are you? A 5 year old? What the hell is with that childish juice box? And that hair...did you put effort into looking ugly today? And damnit, get a new fucking watch. That 'thing' on your wrist is almost as repugnant as your face."
And there it was. "It" being the nit-picky, n
Sing a Song of Sex and SeductionWhen the noise under your bed's just a little too scary,Sing a Song of Sex and Seduction2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"Mommy, Daddy, a monster's coming to get me!"
So they'd check under your bed so you would see
That the monster in your room was only in your dreams.
We live in a world of lies.
What really happens when you turn out the lights
And half the world goes dark for the night?
None of us really knows what's right.
It's a world of destruction,
That we allow ourselves to divulge in.
And the sad thing is it's like a suction.
We allow ourselves to be sucked in.
Do you want your child, your baby girl, to ask,
"What's sex and seduction?"
Put two and two together to make the deduction;
Media's about to make an eruption.
My writing teacher once said,
"Ouija boards don't talk to the dead!"
It took me a while to get it through my head
That maybe he's right...
But I tried it instead.
It's so hard to see the truth anymore.
Kids younger and smaller are looking at porn.
DeceptiveDeceptive2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Tempting with beautiful wings;
-Chen Yuan Wen, 4th January 2013
Drawing FAQDrawing FAQ3 years ago in Comedy More Like This
EDIT: This is REALLY LONG, so feel free to search for the question you want answered by hitting Ctrl+F to bring up your browser's search function. Any and all insults contained herein are for comedic purposes only (except when I'm addressing excessively stupid people, in which case, they started it. I find ignorance offensive. Even my own). If it helps, I get tired of being cruel about a quarter of the way in, and although I'm still quite sarcastic after that, I'm at least informative. You may have better luck just looking at my tutorials. More pictures, less sarcasm.
My Drawing FAQ AKA The Long-Winded Philosophy Of Pencil Drawings
Q. Can I ask you a quick question?
A. I guess, but make it snappy. I'm pretty busy.
Q. You're just sitting there... and spinning around in your swivel chair.
A. That is not true! I'm also trying to balance a pencil on my lip. Anyway, what may be perceived as staring slack-jawed into space, or gawking at screenc
Social MediaPeople are like text messages.Social Media6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Ready to tweet.
When people need something they send a message or two without haste.
But when they are in no need of you, they avoid you.
Like you have became translucent.
You then become the empty space on their screen.
No longer trending.
Who follows you then?
Lost GenerationI am the baby you once abortedLost Generation2 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Because I got in the way
I am the child you once regretted
Who never could have a say
Alive, I was inconvenient
They shouted that it was your 'right'
'Anti-choicers' should be more 'tolerant'
Against your guilt you should fight
I am the child with genetic defects
You decided I wasn't worthwhile
In my quality of life I joined the rejects
In the anti-progress pile
I'm dead, so be unapologetic
While they will make the press
Ignoring eugenics, be to you sympathetic
Whilst I'm now a biochem mess
I am the son without his father
Because men 'no longer matter'
A mother or two can do the job, rather
They tell me it's so much better
I am the daughter without her mother
Apparently she was subhuman
Because of feminism, or something or other,
Her role can be done by a man
I am the child with identity confusion
Because a university theory
Said who I am is pure construction
So they'll tell me how I should be
We are the children who haven't a clue
As to if you care and w
Man Unkind [Weeping Willow]No one wants to die on a sunny day with blue skiesMan Unkind [Weeping Willow]2 months ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
And blackbirds singing in the trees
No one wants to walk blindly in the dark
But I can’t trust the news on my TV
No one wants to drown in sorrow
Or choke on a lifetime of regret
No one wants to see that the Dream is no longer
But no one can seem to forget
Cause they shake my soul like an old weeping willow
Dig her a hole in the ground
They said, shake her soul like an old weeping willow
Lord, please… don’t cut me down
No one wants to live locked in a brain cell
Too afraid to break out of their own mind
No one wants to give up and bid life farewell
Is this really what they meant by mankind?
You know, our wars are never over
No, they just rearrange the dates
When will we stop believing their lies
And realize all the pain it creates?
Cause they shake my soul like an old weeping willow
Dig her a hole in the ground
They said, shake her soul like an old weeping willow
Lord, please… don’t cut me down
Antique Love CH2Antique Love CH23 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Well, of course sorry for the wait, but please understand that school is really trying to kill me! I will try making the chapters longer, but I can't promise yet. I'll do what feels right.
Also sorry if Alfred is somewhat OOC at this part; it's that way in order to make the plot work, so please bear with it. I promise you guys he's not a bad man
Oh and I'm planning to make a small contest for you all to draw a preview-picture for dA! so make something when you feel like it? I have no deadline set yet, but I give you at least a month :3 make whatever you feel fits the story!
The bluest eyes I had ever seen; the ones that looked as if they were the sky itself, as if they were small portals to an unreachable world of dreams and eternal happiness. It were the eyes that were now staring down on me.
I was speechless.
"Hey wait a minu- " the man, almost still a bo
LokixReader~Black of heart,Pure of soul~ch.1LokixReader~Black of heart,Pure of soul~ch.15 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
It was 5 months after your strange dream...if it was a dream, that is...
Never the less, you tried to look pass it, and get back to your life...What little life you had...
You were alone really...you had always been.
You did have a family, but they were never there for you. They always wanted to be something you weren't and when you said no, they kicked you out, you have been on your own ever since.
But being alone, it was not troublesome, you were used to it...You didn't really have friends, you just didn't have the time.
It was just you, your job at the cafe, and a tiny little apartment...
It was the only job you could find, and the only place you could afford...
You didn't complain though, it was better than being homeless after all.
But today, would have a slight twist, hopefully for the better.
~~~ At the Cafe~~~
The cafe you worked at, was small, but was always busy, you worked none stop, getting coffee, and other things for customers, it was quite the cha
I Hate FacebookAnd to be quite frank, you make me sick.I Hate Facebook1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
And I can’t do it. I can’t do it anymore.
Sit and sift through their lives.
Preening and polished.
And I think I hate them.
Or maybe it’s myself I hate.
The lack of supposed importance.
The lack of substantial proof. I was there, I was happy.
And sometimes we are alive even when we are dead.
Tidbits of time caught on film.
Faces trapped in photographs.
Something. I was someone.
America x Reader Summer TheatreAmerica x ReaderAmerica x Reader Summer Theatre2 months ago in Romance More Like This
Where the heck was his house?
You were driving through a neighbourhood downtown, passing the same stretch of houses over and over again. Alfred had given you the number, yes, but the house numbers weren’t even on the mailboxes.
You had been there only once before, which was after a choral concert when Alfred needed to dash inside to fetch his wallet for comic book money, but you couldn’t remember back that far. The house had an extensive system of ivy on it, but that was the extent of the memory.
You were just about to call Alfred to tell him to go stand out in his front yard when another car parked on the side of the street. When Arthur climbed out of the passenger seat, you heaved a sigh of relief.
You parked behind Arthur in front of one of the older houses in the historic district. Overgrown trees concealed the small third story—consisting only of a musty attic, Alfred had told you—where thin, ruched curtains trailed ou