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About Literature / Student Jem GenevieveOther/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 9 Years
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I have no point
I look at people like him. And I think of how lucky they are. They still have a constant flow of ideas, only speckled with less than an ounce of self-doubt. Constantly making things, throwing things out just to replace them with things that are greater. I wish I was like them. Growing up but never throwing out what made things wonderful. Never not doing things because "What's the point?" or "This is useless" because everything they do has a point. It makes sense, it always makes sense, even if they don't think it does, or never will. And even when they don't, they make it anyway. They create things, from the little spark it was in their minds to the full blown lightning storm it is when it's finished. Not for anyone but themselves, and maybe a few people they enjoy entertaining. Me? I have no idea what to do with those sparks. I can't make a light big enough to illuminate a cupboard, let alone a storm. I decide to trash them as suddenly as I decide to make them, doing both without a po
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100 themes: Memory by GiftedElements 100 themes: Memory :icongiftedelements:GiftedElements 1 0 Heart and Darkness by GiftedElements Heart and Darkness :icongiftedelements:GiftedElements 1 3
the better are gone faster
"In the shower, on the can - that's when the best ideas hit you, the places you ain't got nothing to use to write em down with. No pens or pencils near by; and no paper neither. One of them writer types, that's the worse thing you could do to them. Leave them in a room without anything to help them write their good ideas down on, cause you know they'll forget them after just a few minutes, all the best ideas leave your head that way, even if you try to focus on em real hard. It's like a dream, the longer you wait to write it down the harder it is to remember. The difference is though that with a dream, the story's already taken place, but with an idea, oh that's very different. With an idea, it's still laying itself out, so you're trying to remember what got the ball rolling in the first place while trying to keep up with the spool of thought your mind is spinning at the moment. Because you let go of what started it and you're less likely to remember anything, but let go of the spool,
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Shockwaves by GiftedElements Shockwaves :icongiftedelements:GiftedElements 3 4 nightmare by GiftedElements nightmare :icongiftedelements:GiftedElements 1 0 Light in the Darkness by GiftedElements Light in the Darkness :icongiftedelements:GiftedElements 2 57 Water by GiftedElements Water :icongiftedelements:GiftedElements 2 9
Oil spill
A ship.
A spill.
Gallons in the water.
Thousands dead.
My imaginary world of awesomeness:
Vets, scientists, clean-up crew.
Working together to fix what went wrong.
No one scrambling to find the culprit but trying to save what's still there.
Near nothing is being done, and what is isn't working.
People constantly blaming others, arguing over trivial things.
Throwing the guilt towards others like children afraid to get in trouble for a stain on the carpet.
Is it too much to ask for society to grow up and deal with our mistakes?
Is it too much to ask for everyone to just shut up and help out?
Is it just too much to ask that we focus on the solution and not the cause?
Sadly I think it might be.
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ptying tipyng tpying typing
Typing typing typing typing. Like I have some insane case of OCD I have to touch every one of the buttons on the keyboard and hear that clicking and clacking of the keys hitting the plastic beneath them. Ones I never touch, black, ones I barely use, crimson, ones I hit almost as often as abusive mothers do their children, red hot like their faces before more bruises are made and possibly blood is spilled.
Not really there but I can see them - the colors - on the keyboard changing with when I hit them and when I don't, everything going a cool coal black when I can't think of what to type and everything is still and silent for a whole 60 seconds. Not just uncoordinatedly jabbing at the buttons with my fingertips but quickly typing out letters to form words to form sentences to form paragraphs to form ideas. Ideas of things that I cannot do because
I know I can but I don't want to, "I can, and will, stop whenever I want." just like someone addicted to crack or work or
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Mature content
Game part 1+2 :icongiftedelements:GiftedElements 0 22
I sit under my favorite fir tree, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, because I love to feel the cool air on my skin. I lightly move the diagonally bent pencil across the dense paper creating graphite lines with its tip, breathing in the cool afternoon air and letting it out, cooling my mouth and throat as if it were a mint.
I brush the pencil across the paper and evantually I have a head shaped pile of hair, bedraggled and messy. A lot more fun to draw than proper, stiff hair. My own light, long hair moves with a slightly stronger wind and gets in my face for a mere second before falling back around my shoulders. I finish outlining the face below the hair and start making the shape of the eyes, my favorite part of drawing a person's face - next to their hair - because of how many different ways and styles there are to create them with.
Moving along invisible lines I draw two eyes, then the pupils, irises and highlights inside then move on to the mouth and nose. One not-so-big, not-so-small
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Who says you have to be out of your mind to murder?
Who says you have to have lost your marbles to maim?
Is that really how things work around here?
What a shame.
When people rip and claw and shred, that's when things really get fun.
Only slivers of sanity, spots of unstained skin, and hints of happiness now.
People dying and drowning and laughing and frowning and dancing with posies til they turn themselves to ash.
I am perfectly sane, haven't gone to one asylum and I've been murdering since I was born.
First me mum when I was just 0 years, 0 months, 0 weeks, 0 days, 0 hours, 0 minutes, and 51 seconds old, died of cardiac arrest she did, and on false charges too.
Then me pop when I was 2, I let out the dog to see what it would do. Ran right into the street, my dad, like a sheep, went right after and was crushed - what a rush - too bad he didn't see the truck too.
Oh well.
To the orphanage I was sent, and I went, just to provide someone some stress, because - I confess - I just loved i
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An Unusual Friend
Wake up. Too exhausted to get up from having to stay up late. Beating. Eat breakfast. Too tired to eat properly and spill liquids on floor. Beating. Get books together and don't have time to brush hair. Beating. Get to bus stop and hurry onto bus. Unconcious until school arrives at my window. Get off and go to school. Come home and start again, backwards.
My daily routine.
You should have gone to bed earlier
Don't eat like an animal, go slower
You should have gotten ready faster, now you'll have a rat-nest for a head and no one will be your friend because they'll be laughing at you and talking about you behind your back
One day it all went black. I heard someone hitting someone else, half awake even though I was screaming to wake up, because if I was asleep before school and after it was time to get up I would be in trouble. But I could just hear someone else (I could tell it wasn't them, it didn't sound like them, I don't know how but it didn't) pounding awa
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I walk out into the cold winter day, with nothing but clothes that hardly block the freezing wind and black water-proof boots. I run out into the piles of snow around the driveway, the big ones that have lots of snow stacked up on them, and throw the snow all around and jump in it. My mother yells out the door, Come in, you need a jacket! You don't want to die of freezing do you?, and I answer yes, even though I mean no, because it is so beautiful and wonderful and cold, compared to the overheated house I was in, I just can't say no, as if it's betraying mother nature's seasonal gift. But my mother doesn't like it, and makes me come in for warmer clothes.
I hold my breath, 10, 20, 24 seconds before I need to come back up for air. I only take a quick gulp then smash my head down into the cool, liquidy surface and float in my shining world of refracted light and loose atoms. I hold my breath until my lungs feel they are going to burst and jolt my head up just in time to catch my life fro
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The dark is scary
I'm scared of the dark, but not how most kids are, because when they're afraid of monsters in the dark, or bad men sitting in the shadowy corners, waiting for a child to pass by so they can grab them and kidnap them from their houses,  I'm afraid of getting lost. That's why whenever I go to bed I drag my comforter along the floor, for it to snag on loose nail, or splinter of wood, and dig into the blanket and stick to a knot of cotton inside, so a trail of comforter innards unravels out of the blanket as I walk down the dark hall to my room.
I leave the light on in the bathroom so I can see the light shine on my door and a little ways down the long hall, so the pathway to my door and the long trail of cotton is highlighted. My hole-covered and half hollow comforter is lying in front of the door, keeping it from opening and closing all the way, because I like it right in the middle of its arc. It makes me feel better for some reason, so that's how it is.
One day my parents cam
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Jem Genevieve
Artist | Student | Literature
United States
I am a mentally ill writer/artist currently trying to find their niche in life.

When it comes to what to do for fun, that's easy, but I need to find a way to support myself. I hope that reviving my presence here on Deviantart will help me so that.
I haven't been on much at all (or uploaded) since years ago after my life became slight better since middle school.

Ever since then I never really needed to use deviantart as a creative outlet for my shitty life and while I still would draw and write they were smaller things, or for school.

Now that I've graduated high school and won't be in college until the fall, I once again need somewhere to use as a creative outlet.

I don't know if I'll be on as often as I was, but who knows. The app makes it much easier to be on as it takes a lot of energy for me to use a computer vs my phone.

I also figure this would be easier than starting fresh somewhere else, as I already know this website and have an account.



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HopeIsAllWhatIHave Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2014
I love your icon 8)
GiftedElements Featured By Owner May 11, 2015  Student Writer
Thank you!
SashaTitov Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
thank you for the llama!
GiftedElements Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2012  Student Writer
np, you gave one to me ^^
SashaTitov Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
you deserved it! :) i love your avatar!
GiftedElements Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2012  Student Writer
thanks ^^

it's been this same thing for ages, found it on google back when i was obsessed with Deathnote.
SilberCorgi Featured By Owner Apr 26, 2012
~Hey (pls read the whole comment ~ thx) could I pls have your username-story, cuz im collecting them! ^^

(I have already more then 300 different Storys! :happybounce:)

I collecting them in here ---> in the "Project-name-origins" ---> [link] (there should be all info's + post your story in there if you wanna join ^^)

~you want to be a part of something big? Join the Project-name-origins! :dance:

...I would be happy to read your story in there... :)
EmilieBouvier Featured By Owner Mar 23, 2012  Hobbyist Photographer
Nice gallery :D
GiftedElements Featured By Owner Mar 23, 2012  Student Writer
thanks ^^

it's been a long while since I really added anything, so sorry about that.
Toshiros24 Featured By Owner Feb 18, 2012  Student Photographer

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