a spiritual agnosticismthe search for truth in the universe,a spiritual agnosticism3 years ago in Editorial More Like This
is not a denial, but an affirmation -
that there is a mysterious 'godliness'
in the way the cosmos proceeds in
its endless evolution:
- 'bending toward justice'.
- spiritual, not religious, pervading
every atom, therefore pervading us.
- common to everything.
- connecting everyone.
- a patient faint consciousness,
in touch with all sentient awareness.
- no 'one' answer; each of us connects
in our own way... or fails to.
not having a need to believe in 'a' God,
leaves one open to have common faith
with everyone, to think of all others
as brothers and sisters.
we are all 'of' the universe.
if, there comes a time when one feels
a connection to a special religion
or concept of a God, then one may,
without dogmatically condemning others,
'decide' to accept that as one's own form
it must be done voluntarily... and
with true humility, in that one keeps
in mind that faith is a personal choice,
that there is absolutely no honest way
one can 'kno
quest for the almighty dollardrug company ad:quest for the almighty dollar3 years ago in Editorial More Like This
take these little pills; you'll feel
better, stronger, sexier... whatever.
if they don't destroy your kidneys,
drive you flat out of your mind,
or just outright happen to kill you.
llp - aug2012 - dA
Ode II.When I was a first-year medical student at fresher events, people used to say to me, "Oh wow, I bet you see lots of amazing stuff!" The simple answer to that was not really, not at that time. I'd been a medical student for a few weeks. No, I can't diagnose your knee problem or advise you which tablet you should be taking for your sinusitis. I've only got a few weeks on you. I certainly don't have stories of the weird and wonderful to share with you, much as I'd like to.Ode II.4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I think that the only time I've really sat down and reflected on this, is right now, almost at the end of my fourth year. This is when it strikes me how much has changed since I stood there in those fresher parties. Nowadays, when my friends and I get together, we do actually share stories of the weird and wonderful. I've done some rather 'special' special modules (sexual health clinic module, A&E/ER module ), so I've had some truly weird and wonderful stories to share. I think a number of people may remember me ap
this is not my cardiganGod, he is smiling at the waitress with big eyes as she brings him his dinner. i can see the gnarls of his hands from a dozen feet away, his chair pulled close to the wooden table. i watch him reveal his little teeth, presumably polydented dentures. he is wearing a yellow sweater, a cardigan with elbow patches.this is not my cardigan5 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
the chair across from him is empty and in the same grain pattern as the table with his towering pile of supper. my brother asks if i know why he is alone and i tell him to keep silent. his wife died, he told me, with a smile. the old man turns his eyes to his meal and slowly begins to eat.
God, please forgive me for not sitting with him; forgive me for not telling him i am so sorry and i love him; please forgive me for not crying into his sweater or being enough
epiphany # 244: we will find this man again someday, and show him love still exists at the bottom of our hearts and a teacup.
My ConfessionI never really thought about my lack of sexual interest before society confronted me with it.My Confession5 months ago in Emotional More Like This
It took me quite a while to notice guys as anything more than "other people", and when I did, it was more a group pressure thing than real interest.
I even had a boyfriend then, but not because I particularly liked the guy. Having a boyfriend in your teens is a status symbol. Have one, you're cool, have none, you're not.
Of course, back then things weren't that clear to me. I went with the flow.
For a very long time, I wondered what is wrong with me that I don't enjoy sex, that It makes me feel awkward and that I have no desire to go out and date. Society made me believe it is wrong to be like that. I was ashamed of myself, of my flaws and my obvious failure of being a full-fledged human being.
You define yourself through others. You try to figure out who you are, and you look at others for guidance, for something you can identify with. But you only limit yourself with that, and not finding si
To-Do List: September 200830-08-2008 For the love of cigarettes and VTo-Do List: September 20086 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
31-08-2008 Traveling backwards on trains
31-08-2008 Dragging suitcases through airports
31-08-2008 The llama; my protector. Or my protector; the llama
16-09-2008 Dirty little play things
16-09-2008 He tasted like cigarettes and red wine
16-09-2008 Always and forever
16-09-2008 I write ideas on my phones to do list and then forget they're there.
16-09-2008 Gentle touches, rough sex
17-09-2008 Putting life on hold so we can be together
18-09-2008 Cigarettes and dildos
18-09-2008 A case of a cracked rib and thrush
20-09-2008 The path of friesas
20-09-2008 Jelly stings your eyes but makes your skin softer
20-09-2008 Living on coffee and cigarettes kills you after a while
22-09-2008 Cancer is contagious
23-09-2008 Two years and nine months later and i still don't regret the decision i made.
23-09-2008 Koreans in vietnam
23-09-2008 Come on honey, just sit down
23-09-2008 Viewing life through six inch lenses
23-09-2008 Quadracorns exist
The Hard Work of PoetryPoets are constantly crippled, creatively. It's the way it works. You write a line and, just now, right now, it seems like it's the best line in the world to date. It's a shiny, beautiful line, a thought, an image so remarkably profound that you are in awe of yourself, or (if you are a seasoned poet) in awe of that angelic being which sits on high in your mind and occasionally drops little scraps of poetic manna into your head. Now, you only need to write a poem around it.The Hard Work of Poetry5 years ago in Editorial More Like This
Because the poem takes over, sprouts a million legs and scurries in directions you had no real intention of it going and now the Wondrous Line of Glory and Poetic Win doesn't fit. You have to either change it or take it out and save it for another poem. Or make it a haiku-like short poem on its own, so all those other words don't assault it again. If you're an experienced poet, you'll probably just store it in a .txt file or on a post-it note somewhere and lament it until you're old and nothing matte
On PigsOn Pigs3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Let's make it clear: I have nothing against carnivory. I myself try to consume as many animals as possible.
It's just that I hate hypocrisy. Dogs and cats are exempt from being feasted up, because they somehow are intelligent, while a pig is worthy of eating.
Yet pigs are more intelligent than dogs and cats combined. Studies show that they are as smart as children. They most certainly are as smart as the average toothed cetacean, their marine relatives.
It's telling when history recognises this. Who is the symbol of mankind's dark intelligence, as seen in ambition and greed? The pig. Who has eyes that reminds us of black holes, concentrating the molecules to explode in primordial radiance? The pig. Who is the symbol of the Sun, of fertility, virility, Spring and fiery wrath? The boar. The wolf and the dog were always either cancer or servants. The dog is filthy, rolling in it's own shit, while the pig cleans itself. If pigs are dirty, is because they select their diet as to make their
Veterinary AssistantCan I Trade This Job for Whats Behind Door Number Two?Veterinary Assistant8 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Why didnt I go to beauty school? I could be washing, curling, and styling debutantes hair, but instead Im walking, treating, and restraining their dogs. As a veterinary assistant, I live grueling existence: I am constantly exhausted; I am over worked and under paid; I can give life or take it away.
As an already weary woman donned in her usual uniform of clean, solid color scrubs, I enter into another fast-paced day of work as Dr. Mortons lead assistant. Imploring barks and brays from the variety of dogs kept in the kennel at the back of the clinic immediately assault my ears. I have learned to tune them out, for the most part at least. If one listened to every bark, every whimper, every hiss, every meow, one would lose their mind within the first week of work. The well-versed veterinary assistant knows what each of the sounds uttered from each animal mean. A certain growl could mean hunger or p
OrdinaryMost people fall in love with the extra-ordinary.Ordinary5 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
You are not most people; never for a moment try to believe you are. You stand out from the crowd, with your quiet ways and subtle humor, and, in the beginning, that's horrifying. But soon enough, you will learn to lift your eyes and set your jaw; you will learn the word no when it comes to fools; you will live emblazoned over the world like a fiery rainbow.
You will learn many, many things in the coming years.
You will learn to smile with all the vibrancy you have tucked away inside of you, and you will learn to be that other kind of beautiful. The kind that dreamers and thinkers are. You will grow your hair out - yes, down to your waist like you always dreamed - and it will tickle your elbows when you laugh. You will define your own fashion sense - not what's popular, but something entirely unknown and entirely you. And it will be more than ordinary.
You will learn to laugh and cry and love and talk. You w
my howls are silentI, too, see the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness. We are decomposing too early, our souls dying before our bodies can catch up. We are silently ravenous, a quiet craze in our hearts, not quite the same as your generation, Ginsberg. We do not shriek "Holy! Holy! Holy!" as we burn. We drown soundlessly.my howls are silent2 years ago in Letters More Like This
The overeducated, proud products of postmodernism dissolve in a lukewarm soup of ennui, bored balloons filled with hubris rather than helium. Fragile dolls with flaking bones and hair and skin like flowers wilting, weighed down by indomitable wills and insecurities... these plastic girls starve to death and diabetes in the car beside me, fantasizing about food in the passenger seat. Former nymphets gouge symbols into themselves, the bleeding crags physical outlets for the demonic depression, for the memories of beloved older brothers molesting them in the living room, while her mother sits at a hospital bedside beside a fading father.
I see the most remarkable minds crippl
The concept of privilegeThe concept of privilege is discussed ad nauseum in liberal “social justice” blogs counter points and pretty much everything a liberal will say when something doesn’t conform to their reality. White privilege, male privilege, heterosexual privilege, it is like the song that never ends only its not entertaining. These so-called privileged groups of people are believed to have inherent advantages based on their race, sex, or sexuality. More often than not, the concept of privilege is used to stop meaningful discussion and silence the alleged privileged person. Case in point Valdik Filler a white, straight, man who divorced his wife and gain full custody of their 3 daughters had over whelming evidence supporting the fact he was not a rapist or a wife beater, yet it took 6 years and countless dollars to merely get the courts to see the truth and not the lies Mary Kellet and his ex-wife told the mainstream media. I honestly see no proof that any male or white male privilegThe concept of privilege1 year ago in Editorial More Like This
X.Oh.So.Stereotypical.X*I'm Skinny, so I MUST be Anorexic*X.Oh.So.Stereotypical.X7 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
*I cut my Wrists, so I MUST be Emo*
*I'm a Guy who wears tight pants and hoodies, so I MUST be Emo*
*I'm Black, so I MUST carry a Gun*
*I like Blood, so I MUST be a Vampire*
*I'm not like everyone else, so I MUST be a loser*
*I'm Jewish, so I MUST be greedy*
*I am American so I MUST be obese, loud-mouthed and arrogant*
*I'm Gay, so I Must have AIDS*
*I'm Arab, so I MUST be a Terrorist*
*I care about the environment, so I MUST be a tree-hugging nature freak*
*I Speak my mind, so i MUST be a bitch*
*I'm a White British, so i MUST be a Chav*
*I'm Overweight, so I MUST have a problem with self control*
*Im Christian, so I MUST hate gay people*
*I'm Short, so I cant play basketball*
*I'm Religious, so I MUST shove my beliefs down your throat*
*I'm Republican, so I MUST not care about poor people*
*I take Drugs, so I MUST be crazy*
*I like reading, so I MUST be a loner*
*I'm Australian so I MUST hunt crocodiles and talk to kangaroos*
*I'm a Guy, so I
Glorious ShitAnother Dream-Glorious Shit6 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
You can make it;
Pass through shit
To welcome the divine.
What kind of mind is this?
What kind of perversion?
You don't make much sense to me,
You don't make much sense to them-
You don't make much sense.
Return to painting flowers,
Name flowers flowers,
Name darkness strangeness,
Name genius a vile trait.
We cannot decipher you...
Bend down a little.
Everyone needs their audience-
Who are you to dispute?
Who is it you're talking to?
It can't be to yourself!
Everything is illuminated!
(I can write my glossary
Of horror and neglect.)
Do I love you?
Of course I love you,
Nobody else still cares
About the little things,
Such as your senseless self.
(Yes, I'll make everything clear,
The way you want me to.)
Let's speak a new language,
Let's call man the Head,
The alphabet into the globe-
The stud of universe.
(Of course we are the center,
Can't you see?)
Stop mocking me!
You are a brilliant little b
encephalitis.she asks, "is it weird to have one day where you really intensely, for no good reason, think of a dead person?"encephalitis.4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
the intercom was the one to announce that his body had finally given up. i don't remember what i was wearing that day, or how my hair looked, or what noises fell out of my mouth. death has dulled the sharp edges within me. this is what i do know: some people burst into tears and some people sat frozen and pale and some people simply got up and left the room.
"are you okay?" someone asked me, and i found that i was lying on the floor, though i couldn't understand how i'd gotten there. the overhead lights were buzzing and humming, or maybe it was just my heart. confused, i sat up quickly and let the blood rush to my head in one glorious fell swoop.
"are you okay?" they asked again, and i said yes, yes, i am okay. i am alive. i have to be okay. the linoleum is still cold against my cheek and i can still see i am alive i am okay i am okay i am okay.
but sometimes i wish i had t
dArama - ISSUE ONE - Love.dArama - ISSUE ONE - Love.6 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 letterdearest dear,a letter6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
there is a butterfly breathing its way out of you. there is a red & blinking button pressed to bear releasing. I am ever so sorry, but still collecting your colors. In the midst of apologies, still pressing your fragile frame to pages; special focus on forever. tomorrow, I will visit you inside your house. shortly thereafter, I will hide underneath your bed; making a nest of your blankets. the following morning, I will infiltrate breakfast disguised as a warm sip of tea.
that will become my favorite section, in retrospect. the part when you learned to call me "honey", honey. the part where I whispered and tickled your chin.
I hope this letter finds you well:
la la la-la love
A Rose by Any Other NameA Rose by Any Other Name5 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
In a white hospital bed, pale as the lifeless bones of a decaying skeleton, with my flesh exposed through the backless dress of my hospital gown, I listen to nurses discuss my mental health. I can taste the quiet tap of a pen on paper and their tiny smiles of contempt.
Shame comes in waves. Its not like a scalpel or the cold touch of a surgeons hand. They never tell you that it can eat away at your insides like a virus. (That it eats you alive). Shame is not a symptom of the mentally ill. Its just a side effect.
In my creased hospital dress, I wish for death. The sweetest sleep away from detached, gloved hands and dissociative expressions. The never-ending hostile questions and the silent blame and accusations lying unspoken on dry lips.
You did this. Youre not sick. Youre just a twisted, manipulative lunatic.
Under medication and the slow Novocain drip of sedation, I wish for another disease. I want a tumor in my head something t
writingmusicIf you know me, you know that I dislike writing about writing. I like to write about things other than paper and pen and lighted pixels and plastic keys with symbol markings on them. I want to write words in flowing rivers and blowing clouds, storms of fire and water sweeping across lands with no fences no borders no lines no rules and great clouds of feeling flowing across the worlds and sparkling choirs of stars forever forever foreverwritingmusic5 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
the things they should have told ussee, no one really warns us about growing up.the things they should have told us3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
they leave out things like heartbreak and gossip and broken people you could have saved but didn't.
it is this: the girl who holds her wrists and sits alone and tells me no child should ever grow up being afraid of someone who should love them. Her eyes are fierce, and something inside me is screaming but the clock ticks and the moment is past. i pretend i can't hear the pieces of her shatter as they hit the floor.
the next time we speak there are new shadows beneath her eyes and her shoulders hunch as if somehow she could fold into herself and disappear. maybe it would be better for us both if she did. but she doesn't. she can't and i can't and outside the sky is robins egg blue but inside a storm is brewing and the hallways smell of regret.
then, she is gone.
murmurs, rumors follow in her wake like dark ripples over stormy water.
she is gone, lost, taken, stolen, dead. in the halls, her name is whispered, softly, fervently, like a
Dear UnknownDear UnknownDear Unknown2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I made my Mother cry. She wouldn't stop rolling her eyes. She told me I have to decide if I want to be happy, that it comes from within.
My Dad is acting like nothing happened and I'm glad because I'm going to pretend nothing happened either because I don't like when I do something wrong and disrupt the "peace" we have in our family. I like things to stay the same.
I'll be fine.
AddictionYour eyes are as blue as the ocean framed by a red darker than bloodAddiction6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
Your pupils are as dark and wide as the hole in your chest that once held your heart
The once smooth and perfect olive tan of your complexion is tainted
The strong arms that once upon a time wound around me, held me tight
Are now a distorted depiction of stars and stripes
[a rainbow of only green, yellow, red and purple now inhibits your skin]
Your mind and body fight for what they want and what they cannot resist
The small person in your head named; Consciencia yells for you to fight it
But your body can no longer function without it
You cannot win
100 Tips On How To Live Life01) Don't lick spark plugs100 Tips On How To Live Life2 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
02) Don't urinate on people
03) Love with all of your heart
04) Don't give a fuck what other people think about you
05) Eat fatty foods; they taste good. If someone calls you fat, pull out a chocolate bar and say "sure as hell I am"
06) Don't pee uphill if you have holes in your shoes
07) Take your shoes off somewhere random just to feel what's around. Make sure there's no glass
08) Sing as loudly in the shower as you can; you sound better in there no matter who you are
09) Bring back Socks and Sandals
10) Fall asleep at your computer
11) Put your headphones on and sing along on a crowded street
12) See how long you can hold your breath underwater; don't drown
13) Don't taste the shampoo to see if it tastes as good as it smells; it doesn't
14) Chew with your mouth closed
15¬) Start a food fight, but not when the school principle/ vice principle/ school grounds keeper is around
16) Jump in a lake with your shoes and socks on
17) Stand in the rain in just your