150 points giveaway! The winner (:Hello, sweeties!More Like This
I decided to make someone smile again by giving one lucky deviant 150 points!
All you have to do in order to participate is:
fave this journal...
well, that's all
You don't have to visit my gallery nor watch me, but if you do, thank you
+some of my works:
Thank you everyone who participated (:
The winner is
Congrats and enjoy your points!
do you even careDo you even care?More Like This
I try to stop you but you don't .
I try to help but you wont let me.
I try to make it alright but you wont listen.
I try to be there but u push me away.
I try to belive that its not my fault,
But you disagree
You put the blade to your wrist than .
You make a fist and punch the brick wall
And than say it was my fault.
But that's not true and you that ,but yet it is
I try and I try
But its all my fault.
You say you love me,
Than you cut
Do you even care.
miss youMiss youMore Like This
as we hug goodbye,
as we take a step back to look at each outher,
as we look at each outher in the eyes,
as we hug again not wanting to let go,
as we stand there hugging that feels like years,
as we pull away and turn around to go our serpate ways,
as we look back to see each outher once more
as we share a smile of friendship
as we wave goodbye,
as we walk away we both know that we will always be in each outhers hart.
Why Call Him God?"Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able?More Like This
Then he is not omnipotent.
Is he able, but not willing?
Then he is malevolent.
Is he both able and willing?
Then whence cometh evil?
Is he neither able nor willing?
Then why call him God?"
I find myself thinking a lot, about the Christians view of God. The way he is portrayed us less of a god and more of a genie. Granting wishes for the world, and making magic, and solving all problems if you pray the right way.
To me, he is rather like an Abusive Husband. Whenever something bad goes on, he tells you its your fault for his sin. He tells you you would be nothing without him. He says he's better than you and you don't deserve him, yet he takes you in out of "grace."
That is very much like when I was in an abusive relationship. He made me feel bad for myself, said I was nothing without him.
The whole Christian religion is very much like a cult. Trying to
celestialI want to peel the sun from the sky and place it on my tongue, where I'll leave it to dissolve until the world's very life source is nothing but a mouthful of coppery fluid dancing with my tonsils.More Like This
I want to cram clouds into my mouth until my cheeks bulge, choke myself on them. I want to feel clouds pouring from my ears and my nose in fluffy streams, tickling the back of my throat, lovingly whispering for entrance to my padlocked heart.
When the moon comes out to play, I'll capture it in my hands, like a firefly, and I'll press my eye against a crack in my fingers to watch its star-studded wings flutter frantically against my palms.
I'll suck handfuls of stars like boiled sweets until they're fragile enough to crunch, exhale peppermint star dust into the black sugar-paper sky and laugh at the beauty of it all. I'll floss my teeth with lightning bolts, capture thunderclaps in bell jars, use rainbows as shoelaces and necklaces and bracelets.
Saturn's ring will be my own hula hoop, and I'
tooth and nailevery set of scales has a set of teeth.More Like This
when the red exclamation mark points to a number that's too big, too much, too fat, so fat, the scales try to eat me whole, and i feel the sharp red finger in the little glass panel below me slice another (slice of cake, slice of pizza, slice of pie, you're disgusting) scar into my icing sugar heart.
i drop to the bathroom floor hard. shock waves reverberate up my arms and rattle my teeth in my skull. i do push ups until my overcooked spaghetti arms won't support me anymore and my lungs are flailing for breath like tuna fish on the deck of a ship, and oh god oh god oh god it feels so good. nose squashed against frigid tiles, i laugh and sob and scream all at the same time without making a single sound.
i sleep with running shoes on because whenever i wake up from a dream about eating so much that my belly splits like an overripe melon, i slink out the house and go for a run to smother the embers of longing singeing the inside of my stomach
Please Don't Leave Me HangingMy heart is hanging from my mouth on a quivering gold thread and in your hands are the only pair of scissors in the world that can cut it.More Like This
The wings are stiff and cobwebbed from disuse; the only thing keeping my heart in one piece is the thread, running through the centre like a spine. One snip of slim metallic legs and I'm dust, running through your fingers, surfing on the wind and hiding in your hair, powdered hands cradling your head as you dream. I'll grip onto your breath, white-knuckled, and rest in the hammocks of your lungs. That way I'll be a part of you always, since there is no place for me in your heart.
"But you'll die..."
"I'm dead already. You killed me."
Can't you see? My blood is still warm but my bones are made of old rotted wood. Not even the woodlice want me. And what is this thing they call a spirit? There's nothing in me but two shrivelled apricots for lungs and a mound of yellow cigarette butts. A soul? The only soul I know is the soles of my feet that