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About Deviant Anika StewartFemale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 9 Years
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Literature
Or is it just me?
Do you ever just want to jump into the ocean?
To see the waves crashing one way and to just mess up the motion
To stare at the stars and pretend the world ended
To act like you're okay and that you've never pretended
Do ever just want to scream?
To be alone and never come back
To just leave?
Have you ever thought about giving up?
Swallow a bottle of aspirin and wine out of your biggest cup?
Wondering who would miss you
And after you die, what everyone would do
Did you ever just cry?
To just sob and scream but never figure out why
Then ending up just jumping into the sea
Because that's the only thing that makes you feel less empty?
:iconAnikaStewart:AnikaStewart
:iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 1 0
Literature
Purity (A love poem)
When the light glittered into the room, across the floor and into your right eye, I thought my, my, I could cry.
When sleep stole your consciousness and drowned your thoughts, I watched your face bloom.
I couldn't stop myself before I too stole your dream, waking you.
Then your arms caged me into serenity. Security.
Your soft breaths reaked of nothing but insanity. Purity.
Insomnia is my name and no one can pronounce it right.
But I never felt more thankful for exhaustion as I feel tonight.
And although nightmares might hide behind closed eyes, everyone knows they are just fear in disguise. Lies.
I have a masterpiece in my sight.
I drink in all of you, kissing heaven, and I whisper goodnight.
:iconAnikaStewart:AnikaStewart
:iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 1 0
Literature
Monica Lace
Me and Monica. Monica Lace. She had the most wonderful, beautiful face. But in the land of drugs, blood, and honey, she didn't want my love.. she wanted my money. With death in her eyes and ankles and knees, I did what anyone would do. "Please kiss me, please" She did it and never knew why, I told her I loved her and that's why she died. A man once told me to love everything you hate about yourself, because everything you love goes. I loved pure Monica down to her toes. Why she didn't love me back I can't say, but the moment I met her was the beginning of my days.
:iconAnikaStewart:AnikaStewart
:iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 1 0
Simple by AnikaStewart Simple :iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 1 0 Burning by AnikaStewart Burning :iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 1 0 We are strong by AnikaStewart We are strong :iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 2 0 Schizophrenia by AnikaStewart Schizophrenia :iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 2 0 Marilyn Monroe by AnikaStewart Marilyn Monroe :iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 1 0 Third Eye by AnikaStewart Third Eye :iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 1 0
Literature
Weeping Willow (Repost)
Weeping Willow
My name is Sam. I'm 10, and my favorite thing to do is to watch people.
At first it wasn't fun, but now I enjoy it greatly.
And it makes me wonder how many people have watched me?
When I was little I had a favorite place. It was a huge willow tree in the woods behind my house.
That tree was a very intimate place for me. I went there for everything. Every time I needed peace or even closure, I went to that place. Every time I needed meditation, to feel closer to life, I went to that tree.When my youngest brother Rodney died, I went to that tree. The only place I could cry without my mother going into a fit of rage and tears, usually following glass being thrown at my head. It wasn't really my fault he died, even though my mother was convinced it was. Why would she leave me to watch anything as fragile as he? I was born with A.D.D. I can't pay attention to anything for more than 3 minutes. Besides I was 9!
When my mother called me into the bathroom and told me to watch him
:iconAnikaStewart:AnikaStewart
:iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 1 0
Just me by AnikaStewart Just me :iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 2 0
Literature
The Owl
"I'm actually not that wise," he laughed.
"I can be quite simple
Maybe they, if I may, exaggerated a little.
I don't ask many questions,especially not 'who'
And I don't believe anyone has ever stopped to listen except maybe you.
I'm terrible at maths, even worse at giving advice,
But I suppose sometimes my stories may have sufficed.
I confess against my will,
cannot hold my tongue,
Until the early dawn
And the sun has finally come.
I hid a stash of gold in that tree just over there
And that fox across the way? HATES the taste of hare.
And the green finch that sings, can never hold a tune!
Well, my mouth is quite dry now,
I think I may get to sleep,
Yes, until the night returns I retire,
I'm afraid I must retreat."
The Owl astonished me for I always thought that the myth was never right.
I never believed my ears until now..
Owls do openly confess their secrets at night!
:iconAnikaStewart:AnikaStewart
:iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 1 0
Pakistani Princess by AnikaStewart Pakistani Princess :iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 2 0 Me by AnikaStewart Me :iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 1 0
Literature
Goodbye
Goodbye
Mashael, oh how she loves the color blue,
She wears earrings of raindrops,
And glorious dresses of dew,
Mashael ran from home one wet,summer day,
Never left a note,
She has nothing to say,
Tired of the quiet,
That is why she ran away
:iconAnikaStewart:AnikaStewart
:iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 1 1
Anni Le by AnikaStewart Anni Le :iconanikastewart:AnikaStewart 1 1

Favourites

Literature
Waste
I wish to create
but all I make
is a waste of
paper & ink
:iconOmnomnomSquirl:OmnomnomSquirl
:iconomnomnomsquirl:OmnomnomSquirl 11 14
Literature
A day in the life
Electronic bells sound,
Ringing deftly in my ears,
My sleep riddled brain,
Not quick enough to decipher their meaning,
I sit slumped in the hard plastic chair,
Trying to remember where I am.
A warm hand taps my shoulder,
His smile enters my peripheral vision,
"It's lunch time"
Yawning slightly,
I rub my fists to my eyes,
And begin to remember.
Crap I'm at school.
:iconRiabbit---X:Riabbit---X
:iconriabbit---x:Riabbit---X 2 0
Literature
Stuck in the middle with you
A small bead of sweat slid quickly down the red haired girl's forehead. It felt like an oven standing in the midst of the crowded convention room. Elaborately dressed people were everywhere. But there the red head stood awkwardly in her plain clothing, waiting to inspect the merchandise of the stall before her. Fingers twitched sporadically around her rapidly lightening wallet. Looking around she noticed a tall, slender, blonde haired female standing beside her, cussing loudly as she riffled through her bag.
"Can't find your wallet? I hate that about conventions." Without realizing, the red head had spoken. The blonde froze for a second before tilting her head upwards to look at the owner of the voice. After a few awkward seconds she grinned widely, pulled her hand out of her bag and extended it to the other female.
"Hi! I'm The Doctor." Nervously, the redhead extended her own hand and grasped the Doctor's, shaking it slightly.
"I'm Hayley. Most people call me Ri." The Doctor flashed a
:iconRiabbit---X:Riabbit---X
:iconriabbit---x:Riabbit---X 4 2
Literature
Nick+Ellis part 1
It was as if his blood had been drained, and in its place flowed some type of bitter syrup, like alcohol. Ellis had been noticing subtle changes in Nick's behaviour, little more than a month or so after they had first met on the roof-top of the burning building. At first he had been distant but still helped patch someone up had the need risen. But now, now he refused to assist anyone, he even went as far as to never come within vocal range of the remaining survivors, sans staying in the safe-houses and rooms. When Ellis asked the other two survivors about the suited man's behaviour Rochelle would simply shrug and tell him to heal himself and grab as much ammo as he could carry, while Coach would just laugh, pat him on the head and tell him not to read into things.
"We're in the middle of an apocalypse Ellis. Worry about how you're going to survive, not about Mr. Gambler's attitude."
The days dragged on slowly. Hordes became more frequent and Nick was always nowhere to be found when the
:iconRiabbit---X:Riabbit---X
:iconriabbit---x:Riabbit---X 15 2
Literature
Telling Stories
I got my first tattoo when I was seventeen. I remember going into the shop with my mom and nervously telling the tattoo artist what I wanted. My mom couldn't understand why I wanted a tribal symbol, but I loved what it represented: strength and passion. I told him I wanted it on my left shoulder-blade and he just told me to take that arm out of my shirt and started to dab my skin with alcohol.
  At first, it hurt like a bitch. But the pain soon lessened, and after a while I couldn't feel a thing. A half hour later, the tribal symbol was complete. The artist handed me a mirror so I could see it. It was amazing. I grinned and nodded my head, letting him know he did a great job. It was at that moment, I knew I was addicted.
  Now it was three years later, and I'd accumulated six more tattoos. Most were small, except for one that took a chunk out of the small of my back. I was now heading into the shop for my eighth. I opened the door and stepped inside. Rock music play
:iconlosingmyfaith:losingmyfaith
:iconlosingmyfaith:losingmyfaith 35 50
Literature
Devastating tears
Knusende tårer
Solen skinner på hendes usynlige fodtrin det øjeblik, hvor hun med valsende skridt forlader det, der engang var. Hendes ansigt forurenes af et vemodigt smil og hele verden vender 180 grader og står på hovedet for hendes fødder. Hun bliver forvirret da farve-tv’et pludselig står i sort-hvid og græsset mellem hendes blege tæer i et nú er lilla. De glade fugle synger smukke sange om død og pine, mens hun konfust ser sin væmmelige verden gå i grus.
De syrlige tårer ætser hendes lyserøde kinder og en bævrende underlæbe vidner om, at hun kan lide hvad hun ser. Hævnens herlige triumf rammer hende med et knytnæveslag, lig med dem der fyldte verdenen med farve-tv’et op. En trang til at slå igen med fuld kraft glider ind over hende sammen med den lette sommerbrises varme kærtegn på hendes kinder. Tårerne rammer jorden med et brag, og pludselig er
:iconsomebodyornobody:somebodyornobody
:iconsomebodyornobody:somebodyornobody 2 8
Literature
Danish poem
Lydløst skrig om hjælp
En trang til at skrige
- højt, hjerteskærende, falskt -
rammer mig idét jeg ser ind i spejlet,
og ikke genkender hende jeg ser.
Hendes smil er underligt,
- det er tvunget, ufrit, vemodigt -
og hun ligner slet ikke den hun engang var;
et lydløst skrig om hjælp ses i hendes øjne.
Hun forstår ikke rigtig,
- hun er alene, uforstået, forladt -
så hun når frem til den letteste løsning:
det må vel være hendes egen skyld?
Smilet hvisker til hende,
- melankolsk, nedladende, manipulerende -
”Du er ikke god nok!” lyder det;
og pludselig er det de eneste ord hun forstår.
:iconsomebodyornobody:somebodyornobody
:iconsomebodyornobody:somebodyornobody 3 14
Literature
Seeing In Purple
Emotions are all shades of purple, the most unnatural color to walk the face of the earth. Music smells like berries.
The ambiance of her room is gray, a color that is envied by clouds and never, ever leaves your mind. It’s dark enough to help me sleep, but I can’t dream around it. It clings for days like the scent of cigarettes.
“That’s inappropriate,” she claims, “And I told my mother...”
We groan under the beat of Rock Band version 2.0, and share a knowing glance. I grin. You frown. She’s focused on winning.
Music is blaring from our car, though I stoop to call it that. The other names for it make us smile. “That’s inappropriate,” she repeats. We cock our eyebrows and turn it up. Lavender, I call it. Love is totally punk rock, and this is lavender.
You fall asleep on me. I smile. Proof. Love; totally punk rock.
He’s Leif. This is a bad reference to a book you’ve never read, but he is. He’s read them, and he is. Th
:iconryu-son:ryu-son
:iconryu-son:ryu-son 6 11
Literature
The Beauty Behind a Naked Smil
The Beauty Behind a Naked Smile
(10/13/07)
What truth in life still exists, that anyone will hear?  Existence always seems to have its own limits.  Beauty is such a substantial from of the unsubstantial.  And Dreams will forever be conquered by the inability to see.  There are too many people in this world like my neighbor.  Who covets their own life to the point they inhibit anything within a certain radius.  Pi seems like such a grand number, until you witness the circumference of the human will.  Will so convoluted, humanity is reduced to something below any moral value.
I remember my dreams, and sometimes they drive me feel such unbelievable feelings.  Feelings that are soon crushed by the weight of stupidity.  Humans always say that humans are the pinnacle of existence, yet all I see is the will of humanity destroying everything it holds dear.
I’ve read the works of geniuses and watched
:iconMadrin:Madrin
:iconmadrin:Madrin 3 1
Literature
valentine fun
Your the fungus on my rock,
the gum beneath my shoe,
i cannot live,
without you!
your the wax in my ear,
the sleep in my eye,
i will love you till i die!
your the pimple on my face,
the snot in my nose,
my love burns for you,
and forever grows!
your the lead in my pencil,
the wire in my bra,
you seem so close but yet so far!
so tell me now if you feel the same,
so we can suck face,
and go insane!
written by 101secrets and sammy-jane-niems
:icon101secrets:101secrets
:icon101secrets:101secrets 6 5
Literature
don't complicate your life.
a story in five words;
there was a sad girl.
    [and her name was something no one could recall but everyone could lie that they knew. she loved orange, ordinary and order. she was not pretty in the way that counted.]
a romance in four words;
she wished for love.
    [from anyone, really. as long as his eyes were stars that only shined on her. as long as he loved as true as he promised. as long as his smile spoke of possibilities. as long as he dreamed when she didn't want to go to sleep.]
a fairytale in three words;
she found him.
    [but he was no prince, no gentleman and no dreamer; he didn't hold doors open for her. most of the time, his grins looked like frowns. he helped her paint heart-shapes on her room door and they turned out lopsided and angular and he laughed till (s)he cried.]
a tragedy in two words;
too young.
    [theirs was not love. when they frantically tried to fit two obtuse triangles,
:iconchoirsoftheheavens:choirsoftheheavens
:iconchoirsoftheheavens:choirsoftheheavens 31 47
Literature
Pantoum
Get a jumpstart on the forsaken
Hopscotch dodge, this light
Teehee!, my sightings too pale
Rid my sight, it pulls sorrow
Hopscotch dodge, this light
Penny-wise, plenty lies
Rid my sight, it pulls sorrow
Dealing the cards, I disintegrate
Penny-wise, plenty lies
Forgive, it frees the sticky
Dealing the cards, I disintegrate
In your frame of mind
Forgive, it frees the sticky
So I’ve put on my hat
In your frame of mind
Get a jumpstart on the forsaken
:iconIsabellaMichel:IsabellaMichel
:iconisabellamichel:IsabellaMichel 6 7

Activity


deviantID

AnikaStewart's Profile Picture
AnikaStewart
Anika Stewart
United States
I am a horrible person, talk to me :D

Current Residence: West Haven CT
Favourite genre of music: Everything
Personal Quote: "If ignorance is bliss then knock the smile off my face."
Interests
I have terrible writers block lately. I know that everyone gets it, but it's so hard to admit that I am at loss for words. I have so many things to say and absolutely no way to convey them.

Comments


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:iconomnomnomsquirl:
OmnomnomSquirl Featured By Owner Aug 6, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the watch :)
Reply
:iconfirepower-insomnia:
firepower-insomnia Featured By Owner Aug 6, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
thank you for the watch
Reply
:iconamahdi:
Amahdi Featured By Owner Nov 2, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
HAPPY BIRTHDAY NIKAAAAAAAAAAA!!
Reply
:iconumbras-et-lumina:
umbras-et-lumina Featured By Owner Nov 2, 2010
Happy birthday!!! :D I hope you have an awesome day~ :la:
Reply
:iconumbras-et-lumina:
umbras-et-lumina Featured By Owner Jun 1, 2010
You've been featured here: [link] :)
Reply
:iconanikastewart:
AnikaStewart Featured By Owner Jun 4, 2010
Whereeee?
Reply
:iconumbras-et-lumina:
umbras-et-lumina Featured By Owner Jun 4, 2010
Check the "Features" section of my journal. :)
Reply
:iconriabbit---x:
Riabbit---X Featured By Owner May 8, 2010  Student Writer
Thanks for the faves.
Reply
:iconmacbethp:
MacbethP Featured By Owner Apr 30, 2010
You've obviously got some talent here, you're drawings are realistic and imaginative! :)

You asked for some tips, so one thing I would say is some of your drawings could do with a little more contrast. The contast in 'Mask' is perfect, but in Anni Le particularly some of it fades into the background a bit. I'm no expert though, but if you have any particular questions I'll try and answer, or find someone else for you to ask ;)

Another thing is do you have a programme you can use to turn pictures round the right way and maybe crop the edges? Obviously this won't make you a better artist, but good presentation sometimes gets you more views.

I think you're drawings are really good and you have some great ideas, so keep it up! The more you do the better you'll be! :lol:
Reply
:iconisabellamichel:
IsabellaMichel Featured By Owner Apr 28, 2010  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the fav. :heart:
Reply
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