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About Literature / Hobbyist Persevere, let nothing stop you.Male/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 13 Years
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Literature
Someday...
Tomorrow, tomorrow...
Someday I'll pull myself together
get to know myself
Learn to walk alone
without fair weather...
After a while, I'll know when...
The watch is on the dresser
the sun is down
but I keep perfect time always
so feel free to ask again.
That day may be today
procrastination may fail
Life holds on for no one
yet we all feel we write all parts of the tale...
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 1 0
Literature
The Shade
We met at dusk one nameless day,
defined by endless chatter far into the night
hiding from dawn together,
fearful of all sorts of light.
Conniving and fair
Naive yet jaded
We made quite a pair
with energy never-fading
Time passes,
tears line a long road
Those we recall the taste of
leave etchings in the mold...
Tendrils thin but unbroken
tugged us together
time and time again
until we were meant to mend
But gone were the pair,
hiding under blankets dreaming
Only cold adults remain,
made from dying visions,
souls slowly bleeding.
The facade matters, as did the play
but the nights are dark and lonely now
too cruel for one
not mysterious enough for the other
Partners no longer
the dream unable to sustain the pair
Dim memories, nigh forgotten and fading
They had not even realized, time unaware.
Respect and the agreement to disagree
A wholesome and simple intent mutually exchanged
as they diverge with reluctant finality,
darkness and light
retreating to new dawn and and old midnight
Both fe
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 2 0
Literature
Is Anyone Out There?
There's always a time to write.  A thing that you feel.  A point to the pen.  Always.  No matter how small, trivial, personal, dirty or inane.  But...that is...the only "always" in life.  This writing, this statement...is dedicated to how that "always" is a simple and lonely thing indeed.
When I first started writing it was when I was in college, in a computer lab between classes.  Computers have come into their heydey but aren't dispersed in so close proximity that everyone has one.  So many of us come to the computer lab for internet access and we all need it for printing power.  I remember those days, coming to the lab and doing homework then writing...for hours.  I prefer not to write on a keyboard (though this is being directly typed not paper-drafted) because it isn't as portable as my notebook.  That is me at the time, early twenties and desiring an outlet of the thing I'm feeling at that time.
Loneliness.
I remember
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 1 5
Literature
From within the darkness...
It had been years since he had set pen to paper. Years since he had truly tried to express himself. At this point the pen felt more like the chef's knife; a thing he once knew and loved but...never made anything of.
It felt wrong.
The notebook was college-ruled, five subjects and the cover was blue, like his obviously stolen fountain pen. He could remember a preference for wide-ruled notebooks. The pages filled easier. They created a larger sense of progress. But he could also remember specifically picking this notebook, there was a reason for that. Whether he believed it appropriate or not was immaterial now. This was what he had and it was more than workable.
He flips through the pages absently, scanning to see if he had started writing in the other divisions of the notebook. In his prime he had done that many times, putting shards of stories and possible bits and pieces of vivid imagery to paper; a home if he should ever need to call upon the word pictures later. But the othe
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 1 0
Literature
Unsigned
To the empty room,
thank you for holding onto my dust
without it my memory is little more than a myth
a secret between the two of us.
To the worn mic and lonely pen
thank you for waiting for my return
the speakers are scratchy and ink is dried out
the paper is yellowed and crinkled
but I don't need to shout
and any paper will showcase how I feel.
To the silence
Sorry I have to break you
take back one of your domains
life happens and never with your permission
for you signify that things only stay the same.
To the audience...
Thank you for listening
waiting for me to spit again
even though as soon as I finished
...you went right back to chirping.
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 1 5
Literature
Tools of the Trade
Everyone has them
signatures to parts of their lives
things they depend upon
to earn their bread
or simply for recreation.
One doesn't go far on the path
not without them
in conjunction with your hands
these carve your fate.
Sometimes you don't pick them
they come to you
and follow till your dying day
you learn to love and respect them
Tools of the Trade
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 1 7
What you find on the path... by Ex1 What you find on the path... :iconex1:Ex1 2 3
Literature
Don't Let Me Rise Again.
If I should fall in battle
be sure to put me down
don't wait for my last breath
just till I hit the ground.
I don't need my weapon anymore,
Be sure to take it with you.
I'm past help so make haste
or soon you will be, too.
Say goodbye to me now
hope you don't see me later
when you come back
I may not be here...
Because it's the end times
via zombie apocalypse
so as much as you loved me
beware my last kiss...
As the lust in my eyes
is not a good surprise;
my arms are not out to hug
since now I'm doomed to roam as undead
show me some real love;
don't let me rise again.
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 1 10
Literature
I'm waving, don't you see?
Hey, don't look at me that way
tears don't become you
even being sad as you may be.
There's no reason to cry
my pain has ended
there are no more battles for me to fight.
Know this and remember
even though I'm gone for now
part of me will always be right here.
I had a lot of fun and shed my share of tears
and I saw this coming
though I know that hurts to hear.
We can only dodge the end so long
and I know it hurts to see family leave
but what happened to me isn't wrong.
So, though it's hard to bear
Let me wave goodbye
and I'll see you later.
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 4 2
Literature
Cross My Heart
Take a turn down a dark alley inside your mind
make notes as you walk the less traveled path
as you see things you would deny in daylight
sadness and pain coated in just a bit of righteous wrath.
There are so many things we repress
times that we feel that we've failed
they stay hidden in us
but the result is an emotional mess
that tests us daily
not only to surmount and deal with it
but keeping others from seeing what it is.
On these little jaunts inside my mental world
I make myself a promise...
Never to fool myself
that hiding has to stop within my darkness
and to remember that the time does exist;
I'm allowed to cry.
Cross my heart
hope to die
and be not the end of me
should the truth hurt more than lies.
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 0 0
Literature
The Shadow of the Prize
The main issue with the thing that life is
is that there's a list of what it shouldn't be
and we keep accounting for it like such can be changed
crossed off and discarded at one's convenience.
That in this journey you can learn how to read and write
to be a rocket scientist and create or a soldier and fight
possibilities without any kind of boundaries
yet such limited meanings for sanity...
Inconsistencies are found in the one thing that's never addressed
that life is about accomplishing things
but that they don't teach you that anything worth having
will cause you untold suffering to attain it.
We aren't taught to feel pain and defeat,
agonizing is best done by ear then by example
yet even if you could take the hurt away
your accomplishment wouldn't feel real...
Just like you earn every prize
every scar carries a price
and after you pay your dues
both trial and reward become part of your life.
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 0 2
Literature
Contingent Upon
It hinges on every little kiss and forgiveness,
all the things a person can do
that you bless.
Love, without the conditions met
is no more than lust;
infatuation at best.
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 0 0
Literature
Purest Heart
There is not a thing I hid from you
Or a concept about me the world can't see
Only things you infer
Pretending you observe
then attribute to me.
I don't fight about what you think
The freedom to feel is inborn
You can say what you like
Those ideas always free to form
Yet curse and cast aside your umbrella
And it won't be there for the storm.
A person who walks by himself
Jaded but honest
Running the gauntlet of life
With the time he has left
Is as open as the winds that kiss him
But is just as easy to keep
Or lose at a whim.
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 2 2
Tourist by Ex1 Tourist :iconex1:Ex1 0 0
Literature
Evanescent Eternities
Always and never
fraternal twins in literature
symbolic of forever.
Using those syllables you lie
can harken a heart to greater times
and above all promise
things that last longer than your life...
But words fade in the wind
as quickly as they're born
and you can't promise something
that you haven't been to the end and back to see.
It sounds more beautiful than anything
priceless and unique but think
the only thing a human can give
is his energy and mortality
those things are finite
so is it an insult to commit
to something that cannot exist?
I ask this of the popular paradox
continually raping chronology;
how can one have an evanescent eternity?
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 0 0
Literature
Hope: The Spark of Existence
I was talking with someone last night whose opinion I value for the simplicity that he states them.  A matter-of-fact approach to everything is priceless but he said to me something I found rather strange out of someone who spends most of his time smiling genuinely (if a bit wickedly)to actually believe and live by.
Hope is for the folks who are fooling themselves.
He went on to say that hope only exists for the folks who know something bad is going to happen but need something to comfort them then likened it to people who know a ship is sinking but want to believe otherwise.  I countered that hope worked better for me and he told me he would check back with me in 15 years or so.
I find that his view is a bit bleak and even if I could afford to believe it only those in a position of power and well...a capital butthole to boot can afford to not have hope or faith in the people that he works with.  You've got to hope, nothing guarantees anything and i
:iconEx1:Ex1
:iconex1:Ex1 0 0
If you're here looking for a giantess story you've come to the right place. Try clicking on the Browse Gallery button. The ones with a dotted line in front of the title(three hyphens, call it original) are the ones you're looking for. There's other stories too, including a completed novel.

Also, scores of poetry for the stalkers of rhyme and meter.

Random Favourites

Literature
Weathering the Storm
Comrade, Ally, Buddy, Friend,
My names for you, they have no end.
A truer pal I'll never see,
Who makes me laugh and fills me with glee.
We support one another, side by side,
We make sure we each have a confident stride.
I watch your back and you watch mine,
Things always seem to go just fine.
But then we argue, fuss and fight,
Anytime during the day or the night.
Angry words fly with rigid wings,
The pleasant song no longer sings.
We'll make stupid statements for quite a bit,
Hurting one another with every hit.
Things grow dark, dreary and tired,
Our words come from the ground and shoot on skyward.
The fight is done, we soon disperse,
Remembering each painful verse.
They sting like salt put in a wound,
And sound so very finely tuned
To everything we know that hurts.
To things we know just feel the worst.
We sit and dwell upon these things,
Until with comes the light that morning brings.
We meet once more, face to face,
Our hearts beat faster, beginning to race.
One speaks first, the o
:iconDeathTheShadowMaster:DeathTheShadowMaster
:icondeaththeshadowmaster:DeathTheShadowMaster 1 1
Literature
Candle On The Water
A hand writing from the heart
A child trying to make art
A longing beyond all others
Words forming inside her as she discovers
A better world than that she knows
A passion deep that makes her glow
A love she'll never know for sure
But loves she knows is the cure
To heal her scrapes and scars
Her wish on the wells and stars
Her prayer to the higher power
Asking for strength not to cower
In the face of pain and sorrow
She needs strength to see tomorrow
She asks for one hand to hold
A love to melt her heart so cold
She needs someone to be her light
To hold her through the pitch black night
She's a flounder in a world of sharks
Searching for that candle in the dark
:iconDreamerLost:DreamerLost
:icondreamerlost:DreamerLost 4 9
Literature
The Joy of Legends 2
A few days have passed since the events that took place just outside Porta Vista. On that day, a mysterious island appeared that was actually home to some gigantic Pokemon, hence it was dubbed the Island of the Giant Pokemon. But perhaps more shocking than the island's presence was the fact that really giant versions of Nurse Joy and Officer Jenny, estimated to be at least 1,500 feet tall by those lucky enough to compare themselves to the ladies, were actually the long lost rulers of this island, which disappeared after they were reunited.
Of course, Joy and Jenny weren't their real names, but their real names were so complicated to say, they kept the Joy and Jenny names they had earned after they had lost their memories. They did, however, keep the clothes that any other Joy or Jenny would wear, fooling anyone into believing they had just seen one of Joy or Jenny's oversized cousins.
Today, the two giant ladies are once again living on the Island of the Giant Pokemon, which is once ag
:iconcubedcinder128:cubedcinder128
:iconcubedcinder128:cubedcinder128 9 6
Literature
Tinkering On the Grand
I walk through these halls, undbidden,
And glance through the weaning light into that corner.
I see that beautiful grand in all its glory,
A sight to make me wonder...
I sit upon this leather bench,
And tinker away my melody.
My melody of these pasts unfolding,
In all, but a graceful parody.
The beautiful chords first played upon,
Now seem so far, past yonder.
That beautiful piece, that was once my life,
Now tends to make me wander.
Chords so strong, as I play upon,
This wonderful old grand treasure.
I hope to make this music last,
For each magnificent, note-filled measure.
The little passages, so wonderfully dear,
Keep me entranced in life's song.
I am now wondering if this beautiful grand,
Will teach me all life long.
For each passing page, for each passing note,
I know that each piece makes me stronger.
For each passing century has its own way,
Of leaving and bringing back so much slaughter.
The hearts of our children,
So pious and innocent,
That wait in the coming liv
:iconAngolSakura515:AngolSakura515
:iconangolsakura515:AngolSakura515 13 141
Literature
Call On Me
It's ok if you dont want to talk
And it's ok if you're in shock
Its ok if you're mad or sad
In the end it'll be ok
You know I'm here for you
Never judging what you say and do
You know I'll never let you down
I'm here to listen
Till you feel safe and sound
So when you do feel like talking
Tell me and I'll start walking
To wherever you may be
Because you're the only one I want to see
Dont worry, I will understand
Some things in life just aren't planned
So in the end, if you dont know
Call on me, I'll save the show
:iconDreamerLost:DreamerLost
:icondreamerlost:DreamerLost 2 2
Literature
Leaves
Sitting in the courtyard,
A leaf falls to the ground.
It tumbes from the greatest heights,
But never makes a sound.
I never understood that.
Why a tree would shed it's leaves.
Golden brown and chestnut red,
Falling gracely from it's leash.
I sat there, quietly thinking.
When in the spring, they'd grow again.
Life is lost and given back,
I wonder - are we all the same?
When a life is lost to us,
Will it come back to us again?
A fresh start for the gentle leaves,
But to only fall again.
Is the cycle pointless?
We're a disposable set of tools.
Nature dictates who dies and lives,
Why is the universe so cruel?
It builds up a life you love,
And takes it away so easily too.
It's the ultimate judgement, good or bad,
And it's what we must all go through.
The tree is like the world I know,
The leaves the people I see.
And yes, one day, I will die too,
To fall... and be set free.
:icondkami:dkami
:icondkami:dkami 1 1
Literature
Remember me
When I die my love
I want you to remember
I want you to remember
All of me, good and bad.
When I die I don't want you
To make an angel out of me
Because, if you do, I will really be dead
I want to be remembered as I am
including all the things
i work so hard to make you forget
When I die, remember me as I am
Remember that you loved all of me
:iconSoaring-Hawk:Soaring-Hawk
:iconsoaring-hawk:Soaring-Hawk 1 8
Literature
The peasant
The peasant,
A simple man,
A humble life.
Insignificant in his own eyes,
intricately placed,
fueling those above,
the foundation of the kingdom.
Lives his life contributing more,
more than any noble,
more than any king,
more than he'll ever believe.
He'll die with only those he loved to care,
He'll rest in a cozy place,
He'll be remembered,
By only those who knew him,
By only those who cared.
:iconLivingParadox:LivingParadox
:iconlivingparadox:LivingParadox 2 8
Literature
Punch: Spiked with Brass Knuck
if looks could kill...
...you'd be strewn about the floor in peices...
we are...
...let's dismiss the pleasentries,
you and i are here for one thing...
i look you in the eyes...
...seeing myself in your veneer.
this... this right here is gold.
so let not time waste...
...let us get on to what we came for...
watch us now as we tear each other apart like nobody's business.
:iconIamJacksBrokenHeart:IamJacksBrokenHeart
:iconiamjacksbrokenheart:IamJacksBrokenHeart 3 2
I fave things very rarely, currently the count is only seventy-six and I've been a member here over twelve years now. Mostly poetry and various female art you'll find skyscapes mixed in as well. Warmth is one theme while tragedy and duty are others.

Critiques


First person stories like this always flow best when you don't have the luxury of a long series to back you, be that fan-fiction basis ...

by teturo

While normally I am not a fan of the rendered style of visual art I felt the need to stop on this piece. First, I love the hair. Too of...

I go gallivanting through DeviantART now and when I find something I would comment on that actually has critique enabled I sit down and think...can I actually come up with one-hundred words? Here's what I've got so far.

Activity


[b]Mood:[/b] Contemplative
[b]Thinking:[/b] Someone sends me notes?
[b]Driving:[/b] My longest running relationship. 2009 Chevy Impala

At some point the person that created this account left this world. He was replaced with me. I don't know how different that person is from me. I am forced to contemplate it as many of my relevant works are over 10 years old and the person who wrote them and me are only related incidentally by base concept similarities in our characters. I still love the things I wrote for the most part. I still believe in the things that I wrote essays about. And part of me still wishes for the things I wrote in poetry. At least some of it.

I forget to come back here because no one that I used to talk to still talks to me. Because things happened here that hurt. Because...he died and remembering him doesn't mean I have to come to deviantART.

Between the clumsiness that is me socially and the simple passage of time...I have nothing to come back to. What is more, the fade of this place from the relevance of the minds of the people who were its bedrock creates a divide between the generation of people who defined this place and those that flood it now.

DeviantART is an entirely new place and as it should be. Most of us with accounts greater than 10 years in age haven't been able to bond and continue or 10 years here because what deviantART was for us has changed and the people who needed what it used to be also have changed. The foundation of deviantART, the foundation concepts of deviantART, and the foundation membership base of deviantART have all drifted in three separate directions. I was forced to look at this in the last 6 years when I was slightly more active and still talking to a few people and watching the writing on the wall.

I predict in the next two years I'll probably be gone and maybe come back every couple of years or every five or just vanish and appear randomly, like a special encounter battle monster on an MMO. I can't imagine any other path forward considering the turns that my life has taken. We outgrow things and people too.

I'm beginning to think that the only people that read these journals that I post are people who find my page by accident. Tenuous threads that bound people who watched each other's pages have finally broken. The magic of meeting a new friend online no longer has any novelty. There is no more element of earning someone's trust to talk to them. It is a frivolity and those of us from the generation of when making a good friend on the internet really was something that could matter really can't stay here in a place where that changed with the Turning of the clock.

My fear of ranting is gone because the people that I did not want to see me rant no longer here to disapprove of it. It is its own small paradox.

That being said perhaps I'll come back and rant next year.

[i]If someone asks you to name your price, only say something that you would be happy with. Being fair is not a good value judgement for yourself. [/i]

Ex
I haunt the ghost of myself.
The existential crisis of being a loner on the internet and having been on the internet long enough to see the change in the social strata.
Loading...

deviantID

Ex1
Persevere, let nothing stop you.
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
I could leave a big bio right here but I think it'd be simpler to say if you found this place I assume you're looking for poetry and prose. You've got a lot of prose in folders by story with some loose and floating around with poetry everywhere else. If you've got any questions, suggestions or anything else leave a comment or note.

Get comfortable, find a few things to browse and enjoy your time in my corner of the internet.

Ex1

Favourite style of art: Text that moves the soul
Operating System: Windows 7 Ultimate 64-bit
MP3 player of choice: Cell phone. Speaker is now fuzzy from overuse
Shell of choice: Whatever is at hand. Good with a gun is the neccesity, not the caliber.
Personal Quote: Discretion is more powerful than any weapon.
Interests
[b]Mood:[/b] Contemplative
[b]Thinking:[/b] Someone sends me notes?
[b]Driving:[/b] My longest running relationship. 2009 Chevy Impala

At some point the person that created this account left this world. He was replaced with me. I don't know how different that person is from me. I am forced to contemplate it as many of my relevant works are over 10 years old and the person who wrote them and me are only related incidentally by base concept similarities in our characters. I still love the things I wrote for the most part. I still believe in the things that I wrote essays about. And part of me still wishes for the things I wrote in poetry. At least some of it.

I forget to come back here because no one that I used to talk to still talks to me. Because things happened here that hurt. Because...he died and remembering him doesn't mean I have to come to deviantART.

Between the clumsiness that is me socially and the simple passage of time...I have nothing to come back to. What is more, the fade of this place from the relevance of the minds of the people who were its bedrock creates a divide between the generation of people who defined this place and those that flood it now.

DeviantART is an entirely new place and as it should be. Most of us with accounts greater than 10 years in age haven't been able to bond and continue or 10 years here because what deviantART was for us has changed and the people who needed what it used to be also have changed. The foundation of deviantART, the foundation concepts of deviantART, and the foundation membership base of deviantART have all drifted in three separate directions. I was forced to look at this in the last 6 years when I was slightly more active and still talking to a few people and watching the writing on the wall.

I predict in the next two years I'll probably be gone and maybe come back every couple of years or every five or just vanish and appear randomly, like a special encounter battle monster on an MMO. I can't imagine any other path forward considering the turns that my life has taken. We outgrow things and people too.

I'm beginning to think that the only people that read these journals that I post are people who find my page by accident. Tenuous threads that bound people who watched each other's pages have finally broken. The magic of meeting a new friend online no longer has any novelty. There is no more element of earning someone's trust to talk to them. It is a frivolity and those of us from the generation of when making a good friend on the internet really was something that could matter really can't stay here in a place where that changed with the Turning of the clock.

My fear of ranting is gone because the people that I did not want to see me rant no longer here to disapprove of it. It is its own small paradox.

That being said perhaps I'll come back and rant next year.

[i]If someone asks you to name your price, only say something that you would be happy with. Being fair is not a good value judgement for yourself. [/i]

Ex

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconpelvicgyration:
PelvicGyration Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2014
Oh man I somehow accidentally stumbled upon you again.

Hi.

I remember stumbling on your fan-fiction like 7+ years ago. You wouldn't know me, so I wouldn't bother trying to remember me. Just wanted to leave a comment saying hello and that I really enjoyed your work.

Didn't realize it had been that long since I read all that stuff. How have you been since?
Reply
:iconex1:
Ex1 Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Well I am always happy to hear from a fan. Authors don't get much love around here and I haven't been big into fan fiction for at least 5 years so it's a nice jog down memory lane.

Since then, I've grown up and not had console access like I want with the level of dull adult things I have to do. Overall, I've been well though. Trying to find my muse and get back around here on a regular basis. And....If I somehow can get a console and find a current Gen game I like, I may get back into fan fiction. All depends on free time and how it comes together.

How did you stumble across me again? I'm curious.
Reply
:iconpelvicgyration:
PelvicGyration Featured By Owner Nov 9, 2014
It's actually a pretty lengthy story, so if you don't mind I'll just give you the quick cliff notes. It started with someone posting a few pastebins of some old stories. After reading through them I ended up searching around for some more stuff and I happened across a site that I had forgotten existed, and that I am still amazed is still around. VGGTS.  It still has a somewhat sizable  collection of some older stories which included a few stories from you.

I started reading one of them and it seemed awfully familiar and then I saw the name credited as "Ex" which jogged my memory.  I had originally found your work here on DA so I set out on a journey to track this page down. Glad to see you're still alive and kicking.
Reply
:iconex1:
Ex1 Featured By Owner Nov 9, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I haven't been there in ages. Has he taken down the source page for authors? I used to have a link straight to here.

It may be a lengthy story but I wouldn't mind hearing it. It reminds me of when I went to track down a few authors myself. Actually caught one a few years ago. I'm flattered, as an author, that you wanted to find my page again.
Reply
:iconowlizard:
owlizard Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2012  Professional Digital Artist
[link] tadaaa
Reply
:iconthezero759:
TheZero759 Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
[link]

Join my cause!
Reply
:iconex1:
Ex1 Featured By Owner Aug 8, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
It's a worthy cause but I also subscribe to dA so it really doesn't affect me the same way it does you. Other members without subscriptions are a much better bet, though.
Reply
:iconthezero759:
TheZero759 Featured By Owner Aug 8, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Well I was just asking, sorry.

Also, would you mind if joining my Zelda group?

:iconlegendofzeldagroup:
Reply
:iconex1:
Ex1 Featured By Owner Aug 12, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Honestly, I'm not active enough to join groups here on dA. I appreciate the offer though.
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconowlizard:
owlizard Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2012  Professional Digital Artist
[link] tadaaa
Reply
:iconthezero759:
TheZero759 Featured By Owner Jul 31, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Thx for da lama
Reply
:iconjeannie64:
jeannie64 Featured By Owner Aug 24, 2011  Professional Writer
oh and thank you my dear da friend for the fav xxj:):hug:
Reply
:iconex1:
Ex1 Featured By Owner Aug 24, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
You are welcome, Jeannie.
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:iconjeannie64:
jeannie64 Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2011  Professional Writer
:):hug::glomp:xxj
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:iconjinisha16mehra:
jinisha16mehra Featured By Owner Jul 28, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
i want journal skins
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:iconex1:
Ex1 Featured By Owner Jul 28, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
You can find the skins by clicking on the avatar at the bottom of my entry.
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:iconjinisha16mehra:
jinisha16mehra Featured By Owner Jul 28, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
haha...i don have premium membership ^_^
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:iconowlizard:
owlizard Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2011  Professional Digital Artist
my dear deviant! i made you something. I usually draw by hand and scan my work, but I hope you enjoy this picture I made of cloud and Tifa via tablet!

[link]
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:iconex1:
Ex1 Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
*smiles* Cute picture. I like it. Thanks for the watch, too.

Did you read the other two parts of the series or just the first?
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:iconowlizard:
owlizard Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2011  Professional Digital Artist
oh i read them for a second time last night an got to work around 4 this morning :). i usually don't use tablet but i figured i better start practicing
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