LookingLooking11 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
LOOKING WHERE I DAREN'T, SEEING WHAT I MUST
At least everything had been cleared out of the room by then.
All the forensic equipment and the evidence markers and the yellow tape, all the police and the government agents and the reporters—oh, the reporters and the endless questions they'd asked about everything in the room.
The room was silent, now, a dead chamber full of books and curiosities, statuary and bricabrac. Full of things but completely devoid of sound, of movement, of life.
The lighting remained the same, the colours, the textures, the smells. The lamps still glowed, the soft blue light still diffused from the huge tank of water that dominated one wall. The windows still admitted muted sunlight, the kind you found in old bookstores and antique shops. A warmth remained there, but it was distant, the warmth of something that had sat in the sun and had only just been brought into darkness. The scent of old things, the scent of time and dust and books, of wisdom
Ever Beating Chapter 23Ever Beating Chapter 237 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
Slowly but surely, Lewis felt himself starting to come to in the midst of his coffin. He opened his eyes, staring at the black lid of his light-devoid sleeping quarters. Man, what a dream. He’d have to tell Amethyst about it and-
Memories soon flooded into his skull, remembering the fight Vivi and him had, almost killing Arthur, leaving for the caves, destroying Jett, the fight… He frowned in his mind, feeling very sorrowful at the moment for Amethyst. What did she mean by her words? Was she really…? Lewis shook his skull, having to sort that out later.
Right now he had to get some answers. Namely, how long he had been out. With that in mind Lewis put his hands on his coffin lid, pushing it open as light streaked in.
He hesitated for a second before sliding the lid back, floating a few steps out and into a new room. It looked like a cheap motel room, with luggage, clothing and tools strewn aside everywhere. A closed window was next to his propped up
Metal Gear SolidMetal Gear Solid9 years ago in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
METAL GEAR SOLID
EXT. SKY OVER HIMALAYAS - TWILIGHT - NIGHT
A semi-futuristic transport plane streaks high over the
mountains at a very fast speed. We see it from many
angles, especially the decal on the tail that reads
FOX-HOUND with a fox holding a combat knife in its teeth.
Grain of SandGrain of Sand10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I can't cry
My tears are dry
Grains of sand
In an ancient ocean
The scent of despair
Clings to my hair
My skin, my hands
I touch but feel empty.
The ground shakes beneath my feet
Along with my deafening heartbeat
A tattoo of a thousand wardrums
Pounding in my head.
Can I trust you when
I'm on the ground again
The heat coming from the mud
Blazing in my skin
I can't let you win...
- In My Eyes -- In My Eyes -10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I tried to listen
To the things you said
But I couldn't stop the voices
Inside my head
I thought it would end
If I could forget
I tried to pretend
And that I regret
Because it's eating me alive
It never ever goes away
It's strangling me inside
And suffocates me more each day
It's driving me insane
I can't take this anymore
I hate myself, I'm a useless bitch,
A filthy fucking whore
I can't see anything but red
I hate this place inside my head
I'm fucking crazy just like they said
I'd kill myself, but I'm already dead
'Cause I ignored it for too long
And I believed in my own lies
Now it's too late, my soul is gone
You can see it in my eyes
Milk - ExtractsExtract 1 - Dr BusbyMilk - Extracts9 years ago in Humor More Like This
It was some hours later that Dr Chamberlain Busby burst into the drawing room, bizarre medical instruments falling out of his pockets onto the parquet floor with a clatter and some sort of chalky substance on his fingers leaving marks upon the doorframe. He twittered and twottered as he made his entrance, fiddling about his person in a vain attempt to find his stethoscope.
I, meanwhile, looked on in flabbergasted bemusement, as did Biskerton – my tiny feline companion – who was sitting quietly beside me, balancing a metronome on his head, beating a steady largo tempo (around 60 bpm). To think I paid this man nearly four pounds an hour to clown around in this fashion! It was absurd, I thought to myself. I felt sure Biskterton agreed, though he made no mention of it in either voice or gesture.
"N-n-now then, Lord Big Eggo. If I could j-j-just…" The doctor said nothing further, but having extracted his stethoscope from a large pocket in the lining of his tweed
The Story of the Quiet kidThe Story of the Quiet kid11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The Quiet kid
Ya I know him
he sits there in the corner
listening to weird music
I used to make fun of him
I Don't any more, I swear I don't
The Quiet kid
He just sits there drawing
what, I don't know
Just go and look
See for yourself
The Quiet kid
At lunch he sit alone
at that table all by himself
Eating a sandwich
and reading a book
The Quiet kid
says he writes poetry
He says it quiet good
With a sense of deep emotion
I just laugh and say
"poetry is for pussies"
The Quiet kid
In gym class
So scrawny in his shorts
his skin so pale
white like milk
I say "go outside and get a tan you little freak"
The Quiet kid
Sees Me trip and fall
in the hall way
And as I get up
I am staring at seven inches of gunmetal
in the Quiet kids hand.
The Quiet kid
for the first time I hear his voice
"all I wanted was a little credit,
All I wanted was to be accepted,
For who I am,
And not who you want me to be"
His hand is steady, unwavering
As he points it at my head,
I cringe back fro
life isn't fairlife isn't fair11 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Sometimes I feel
As though I'm dead
I can't do anything
I've reached an end
People hate me
No matter what I do
I don't want to live
My life is crud
Try being me
See how long you last
Think it's easy?
Kiss my ass
Course it's not
Don't be dumb
My life is sad
Never any fun
So leave me here
To rot and die
Happiness is hard to find
It can't be bought
Let me die in peace
No one to care
I don't want to live
Life isn't fair.
My Old Friend and ComradeMy Old Friend and Comrade4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The first time that I saw you was within Test Chamber 17.
You were smooth, gleaming with brilliant rays that I could barely open my eyes.
You were beautiful.
You were perfect.
We overcame one obstacle after another.
Your sweet whispers rang like chimes in my ear.
"You're doing great. You'll be out of here in no time."
"The way you tumble through the air was beautiful."
"You are so smart. I couldn't have thought of that."
I indulged myself in your honey voice, like a butterfly hopelessly entranced in the aroma of thousands of flowers.
You were the friend I had been looking for in my life.
She asked me to burn you.
The cold, lifeless voice prodded and poked, like barbed thorns dragging and scraping through my mind.
She thought you could not speak. She thought I could disregard you. She thought you were silent.
But no. You were much more than just a partner. You were a comrade that had travelled with me since the start of the chamber.
You were a friend that cheered me on when I sat in fru
What do you expect from me?What do you expect from me?10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I expect fear.
I expect suspicion.
I expect your anger.
I expect your tests.
I expect to be questioned about my motives.
I expect to be a disappointment.
I expect that you will see nothing worthwhile in my friendship.
I expect that you will cut off my hands when I reach out to you.
I expect you to abandon me,
but I keep trying anyway.
Because I do not fear your touch;
I only fear being alone.
dArama - ISSUE ONE - Love.dArama - ISSUE ONE - Love.7 years ago in Editorial More Like This
The dynamic between core staff, volunteer staff, and the community can at times be pure quality dArama.
It's worth noting that for years I've worked pretty hard to remain neutral on community politics. Today, I'm going to shatter that concept.
Needless to say, I am extremely politically aware of the inner workings of the deviantART community. I read *a lot* of journals, comments, forums, chat rooms. I have fake accounts. I spy.
But I don't spend my time talking politics, instead I focus internally at deviantART designing technologies and implementing understandings with core staff to address the issues I see pop up.
It's time to take a moment to be a bit more petty.
In the inner workings of our politics exists the soul of deviantART. What is this place? What was it meant to do? What does it do? What could we do better? And it's the politics that give insight into how well the greater plan is running.
There's $core staff who are employees or contractors and work 8+
A Not-Love PoemA Not-Love Poem10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
[What the stars tossed, salt-casual, onto the not-black of the not-night suggest could be love, but I can't read them.]
This is not a love poem,
not-love, a not-love poem.
Falling waist deep into February
stomping the signatures of lost years
in footprints on the pristine present-
this, not-night has become electric
with memories smashing through
the thin ice of teenage alchemy,
charged, with the possibility of
or even a complete skeleton
of our separate childhoods
we, are the miners of nostalgia, now.
But in this not-night,
with the subtle city lights,
God Is DeadGod Is Dead11 years ago in Humor More Like This
God's robes flapped around him as he looked over the edge and onto the street below.
"Don't do it! Don't do it!" cried the security guard behind him.
God said nothing, climbing onto the raised edge of the building. Five storeys below, people were beginning to take notice.
"Jesus Christ! Look!
"Oh my god!"
"Where's my camera?"
He turned and faced the security guard, who stopped walking and gazed upon the face of God. He'd been crying.
"But... why? You've got so much to live for..."
God gave a wan smile. "So have all of you."
He spread his arms wide, closed his eyes and breathed a deep sigh, falling back and off the building.
* * *
A crowd was gathering around the black, sticky mess that remained of What-Once-Was Our Lord.
"Is he dead?"
"Who is it?"
"Where's my camera?"
The bystander effect was operating at maximum efficiency, causing everyone to just stand there and looked at the mangled remains. Presently, however, a fine upstan
Eight Poems for Myspace PagesThings to do on a SundayEight Poems for Myspace Pages9 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
Smiling subtext pustule bag.
Eat Squezy Plus with a fat spoon.
Da do da do da rim rim rim rim bar.
(Thirteen monks delight in it).
Da do da vim vom vim.
Ripcord batter gargling bag.
Drink Squezy Plus neat from a can.
Ba bo ba bo ba dim dim dim dim barr.
(Seventeen monks delight in it).
Ba bo ba vim vom vim.
Delicious hornswaggled pikachu bag.
Suck Squezy Plus sideways through the eyesockets of a dead badger.
Ka ko ka ko ka bim bim bim bim barrr.
(Sixty three monks delight in it).
Ka ko ka vim vom vim.
Da bo ka bim do vim vom ka ka ko ba bo ka vom vim bo!
Ba ko ka dim do vom vim da da bo ba ko ka vom vim vom!
(Three thousand monks delight in it -
Stuff them in your wife's brown bag).
I Have Every Right to be Paranoid:
Vim vom under-vim.
The smocks have the answer,
But they'll never fucking tell us.
Prayer to a Musty God
O lord of light!
Great butcher of skies!
You have such enormous fingers!
two weeks bid my farewell.two weeks bid my farewell.10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
could i say?
i miss you
empty is my bed
blackets lay folded
neat and tidy
they have no more use
comfort has been lost
i long for it
the nights have gotten colder
like icy steel pressed against your
i toss and turn
there is nothing to stop my body
space takes your place
apathy for this sleep fills me
overwhelmed with loneliness?
rain knocks on my window pane
this proves to be my only company
breezes brush through my room
as if teasing and taunting me
reminding me of how you came