hideous translucent legs
clawing
screaming
climbing up the wood frame
undulating flesh
the invader
veins through exoskeleton
waiting
climbing
wings like mower blades
waiting
climbing
climbing
you know how they get in
ginchael
is a funkasaurus rex.Stonehenge 01
10 Comments
Newest Deviations
SHUTTLECOCKS
ginchael
3
3
Literature
the invader
ginchael ginchael
1
4
Literature
Sodium
SODIUM
They buzz
the stinkbugs, sensing the rot
around the cheap Swedish furniture
they know that you won't touch them
you have come to an accord
they claim the room
you have the window
Daylight sets
the orange glow of the city remains
the city you want to live in
the city that is so far from your reach
the city that mocking calls every night
selfishly blocking the universe
the whole everything beyond
until you are consumed with it
the hypotheticals are kudzu
you are paralyzed by your future
the city
the city
the city
the contented rumble of the furnace
and you are alone with your thoughts.
They buzz
the stinkbugs, sensing the rot
around the cheap Swedish furniture
they know that you won't touch them
you have come to an accord
they claim the room
you have the window
Daylight sets
the orange glow of the city remains
the city you want to live in
the city that is so far from your reach
the city that mocking calls every night
selfishly blocking the universe
the whole everything beyond
until you are consumed with it
the hypotheticals are kudzu
you are paralyzed by your future
the city
the city
the city
the contented rumble of the furnace
and you are alone with your thoughts.
ginchael ginchael
1
8
Fake Criterion: The Wall
ginchael
8
0
Fake Criterion: Scott Pilgrim
ginchael
3
0
MOTHERFUCKIN BOOKSHELF
ginchael
8
27
Literature
PEPPY BIRTHDAY
Pep, you are the motherfucking man.
Everyone knows it. Seriously.
Please do more comics and shit.
Preferably Brine, but other ones are cool too.
Even if they don't include your trademark witty eroticism.
Remember when you did those facebook irl comics? you should do more of them
Olso is the capital of Norway.
Newfoundland is where you live.
I also hear you are growing a beard now. How's that going?
Drinking is fun for you and me.
Eleven plus nine, that is how old you are.
Look, Newfoundland is bad and you should feel bad.
U mad?
Xaxier means "fuck there are not a lot of good words that start with x"
Eappy birthday!
Everyone knows it. Seriously.
Please do more comics and shit.
Preferably Brine, but other ones are cool too.
Even if they don't include your trademark witty eroticism.
Remember when you did those facebook irl comics? you should do more of them
Olso is the capital of Norway.
Newfoundland is where you live.
I also hear you are growing a beard now. How's that going?
Drinking is fun for you and me.
Eleven plus nine, that is how old you are.
Look, Newfoundland is bad and you should feel bad.
U mad?
Xaxier means "fuck there are not a lot of good words that start with x"
Eappy birthday!
ginchael ginchael
5
3
Literature
The Essence of Low Self Esteem
THE ESSENCE OF LOW SELF ESTEEM
is it bad
the only time
i write
something
beautiful
is when
i am
berating
myself?
is it bad
the only time
i write
something
beautiful
is when
i am
berating
myself?
ginchael ginchael
2
6
Literature
Logjam
LOGJAM
the words
come out
oh
so
slowly
one
by
one
and
then
without
warning
it comes pouring out
like a cup runneth over,
the Great Lakes down Niagara,
the power that erupts from the splitting of an atom,
and not only do you know exactly what you wanted to say –
the proper grammar, the perfect syntax, the right tone –
but you see your life so far, the sum of your entire existence,
every choice and mistake you think about late at night
while the dog next door barks at shadow people only he can see,
and it unfolds in moments, scenes, chapters, books, the pleasures of a good novel
where you know exactly what went wrong, how you ended up at this very spot,
sitting at a shitty IKEA desk in a too-small wicker chair you salvaged from a dump,
in your old room in your parent's house because you can't find a job, don't have any savings,
didn't think to plan ahead and now you and your entire generation is being written off
as kids whose parents coddle them, who don't wanna don't wanna do
the words
come out
oh
so
slowly
one
by
one
and
then
without
warning
it comes pouring out
like a cup runneth over,
the Great Lakes down Niagara,
the power that erupts from the splitting of an atom,
and not only do you know exactly what you wanted to say –
the proper grammar, the perfect syntax, the right tone –
but you see your life so far, the sum of your entire existence,
every choice and mistake you think about late at night
while the dog next door barks at shadow people only he can see,
and it unfolds in moments, scenes, chapters, books, the pleasures of a good novel
where you know exactly what went wrong, how you ended up at this very spot,
sitting at a shitty IKEA desk in a too-small wicker chair you salvaged from a dump,
in your old room in your parent's house because you can't find a job, don't have any savings,
didn't think to plan ahead and now you and your entire generation is being written off
as kids whose parents coddle them, who don't wanna don't wanna do
ginchael ginchael
5
3
My artistic ability circa 1996
ginchael
3
10
Literature
Android of the 21st Century
ANDROID OF THE 21ST CENTURY
You used to write –
but now you mostly read
those celebrity gossip sites,
in depth analysis of sitcoms,
counter-points to counter-points,
eyes dull from late nights
in front of your personal screen
talking to people who aren't really there,
chatting through video or text,
getting books as pee dee effs
while all the old paperbacks rot
in a moldering box next to the water heater,
buying your clothes online
from an artistic elle elle cee
while pieces of your plastic parasites
dig their roots into your ears,
your fingers, your pockets,
consuming everything beautiful
about you until you're nothing
more than a parody of yourself
because you're too damned tired
by the time your train pulls back in
– but you don't anymore.
You used to write –
but now you mostly read
those celebrity gossip sites,
in depth analysis of sitcoms,
counter-points to counter-points,
eyes dull from late nights
in front of your personal screen
talking to people who aren't really there,
chatting through video or text,
getting books as pee dee effs
while all the old paperbacks rot
in a moldering box next to the water heater,
buying your clothes online
from an artistic elle elle cee
while pieces of your plastic parasites
dig their roots into your ears,
your fingers, your pockets,
consuming everything beautiful
about you until you're nothing
more than a parody of yourself
because you're too damned tired
by the time your train pulls back in
– but you don't anymore.
ginchael ginchael
5
4
Literature
One Night At Otto's...
ONE NIGHT AT OTTO'S IN 1950
the men sit at the bar, nursing
beers and watching the boats trudge
down the Woodcleft Canal,
past Guy Lombardi's house
and Jones Beach and into the Atlantic.
They're just barely into their twenties,
clean cut, greased hair, second generation
immigrant kids on the cusp
of the postwar era. Jim is
a baseball player, was robbed
of the majors by a blown knee
and doomed to bricklaying, digging
the Cross-Manhattan Expressway
under le Corbusier blocks, tearing down
old New Amsterdam brick by brick
for the whims of Robert Moses,
carving out the modern city of New York.
My mother, his daughter, would
point this out to me every time we
went into the City, and I learn the beats
of the story well that I proudly
brag to my friends during our first
adolescent excursions.
By then Jim is old, his hair peppered,
his skin tan from the Florida waiting room
sun, his hands calloused but still familiar
with brick, with the cool wood
of a baseball bat, the leather stitc
the men sit at the bar, nursing
beers and watching the boats trudge
down the Woodcleft Canal,
past Guy Lombardi's house
and Jones Beach and into the Atlantic.
They're just barely into their twenties,
clean cut, greased hair, second generation
immigrant kids on the cusp
of the postwar era. Jim is
a baseball player, was robbed
of the majors by a blown knee
and doomed to bricklaying, digging
the Cross-Manhattan Expressway
under le Corbusier blocks, tearing down
old New Amsterdam brick by brick
for the whims of Robert Moses,
carving out the modern city of New York.
My mother, his daughter, would
point this out to me every time we
went into the City, and I learn the beats
of the story well that I proudly
brag to my friends during our first
adolescent excursions.
By then Jim is old, his hair peppered,
his skin tan from the Florida waiting room
sun, his hands calloused but still familiar
with brick, with the cool wood
of a baseball bat, the leather stitc
ginchael ginchael
0
1
INSPIRATION STATION
ginchael
1
12
Literature
On Stephen King
Just so you know – Stephen King took my adult book virginity. I was twelve years old or so in the library, just out of school and looking for something to do besides go outside during those sunny June days, and decided that I was too old to be trolling around the Children's Room any longer. I was too intimidated to wander among the stacks, twice as tall as I was and poorly lit, so I settled for the rack of "Librarian Recommendations" near the DVD rentals. One of my friends, a kid who liked to write hundred-page novellas about supernatural-child-warriors and one of the first kids who I knew who actually did write, told me about this Stephen King guy, that if I liked Goosebumps than I should enjoy him. The book was called The Stand and it was love, that kind of fast adolescent love that hits hard and is all consuming. I blew through the thousand plus pages in two glorious weeks and I spent the rest of the summer playing in the w
ginchael ginchael
2
6
Literature
Five Days at the Beach
Monday
My brothers and I used to play a game called Superman. We'd wait out on the sandbar, looking on the horizon for the sign of a wave. When a swell finally approaches, you'd take a deep breath and bend your knees. Then the water smothers you and wants to carry you back to shore but you have to wait one second. You enjoy the ministrations of the current, the tiny pulling hands. I'd try to open my eyes and for a moment I would see the sun through the surface. It looks like this diorama my art teacher showed off to our class one day. It was made of blue and brown tissue, of mirrors and gems. She said the womb was like an ocean; there were tiny fetus mermaids reaching for the surface. I would look for them but I would only be able to keep my eyes open for a second – the salt water stings.
We wouldn't look more than half a second, though, because it is in that millisecond that
My brothers and I used to play a game called Superman. We'd wait out on the sandbar, looking on the horizon for the sign of a wave. When a swell finally approaches, you'd take a deep breath and bend your knees. Then the water smothers you and wants to carry you back to shore but you have to wait one second. You enjoy the ministrations of the current, the tiny pulling hands. I'd try to open my eyes and for a moment I would see the sun through the surface. It looks like this diorama my art teacher showed off to our class one day. It was made of blue and brown tissue, of mirrors and gems. She said the womb was like an ocean; there were tiny fetus mermaids reaching for the surface. I would look for them but I would only be able to keep my eyes open for a second – the salt water stings.
We wouldn't look more than half a second, though, because it is in that millisecond that
ginchael ginchael
8
3
Ebony and Ivory
ginchael
2
0
Favourites
Mature content
Drunk Tevys Part the Third
Leucrotta
1
16
Literature
SQAB: DRUNK TEVYS EDITION pt1
oh god bodies aren't supposed to do that
iTevs: don't drink anymore D:
shush.
...eh she probably will return drunk too
They don't exist.
like australians
they dont really exist
shit bro
eees
this is like watching a train wreck in slow motion
i feel like the universe gets smaller
scratch that
Drunk-tevys is the new drunk-buddha.
then it was drunk-dead
now it's drunk-tevys
oh god this is going to be a horrible first impression
no shut up
im not drunk
Angry-buddha-88: make him dance or something I came here to be entertained
Tevys: dude
Tevys: drink more
Tevys: you can still type
iTevs: yes you are
Tevys: you are not drunk enough
kevn yhoy are not my dad
iTevs: who is kevn
i am kevin
but i know not of this kevn
He could be.
You never know.
kevin
Tofubeast: two questions: 1) Who are you? 2) Are you actually made of tofu?
tofu is grs
ss
wait
wait i know you
Tofubeast: Weren't you a Desire judge or something?
you were once part of
octss rso something
right
i remember your weird phantom littl
iTevs: don't drink anymore D:
shush.
...eh she probably will return drunk too
They don't exist.
like australians
they dont really exist
shit bro
eees
this is like watching a train wreck in slow motion
i feel like the universe gets smaller
scratch that
Drunk-tevys is the new drunk-buddha.
then it was drunk-dead
now it's drunk-tevys
oh god this is going to be a horrible first impression
no shut up
im not drunk
Angry-buddha-88: make him dance or something I came here to be entertained
Tevys: dude
Tevys: drink more
Tevys: you can still type
iTevs: yes you are
Tevys: you are not drunk enough
kevn yhoy are not my dad
iTevs: who is kevn
i am kevin
but i know not of this kevn
He could be.
You never know.
kevin
Tofubeast: two questions: 1) Who are you? 2) Are you actually made of tofu?
tofu is grs
ss
wait
wait i know you
Tofubeast: Weren't you a Desire judge or something?
you were once part of
octss rso something
right
i remember your weird phantom littl
Angry-buddha-88 Angry-buddha-88
4
8
Mature content
City Of Delusion
Phantosanucca
13
9
Trivially True
Oly-RRR
27
44
Face off
BlindKnight
103
8
Marshall Cogburn
crumblygumbly
95
12
The Giant Retreats
Oly-RRR
21
21
Literature
Change
Time does not unfold like a flower,
but moves in tangent circles,
mirrors reflecting mirrors,
here always being there.
but moves in tangent circles,
mirrors reflecting mirrors,
here always being there.
lwoodnj lwoodnj
3
0
Literature
Second-Hand Sunlight
Try to live on
second-hand sunlight
and watch faith dew
on your bared skin.
You have a soul
like an abandoned city:
there's so much potential
between "why" and "how".
But, with a look on your face
like falling snow, you whisper,
"Sometimes, the desert
is the mirage."
second-hand sunlight
and watch faith dew
on your bared skin.
You have a soul
like an abandoned city:
there's so much potential
between "why" and "how".
But, with a look on your face
like falling snow, you whisper,
"Sometimes, the desert
is the mirage."
lwoodnj lwoodnj
2
4
FIGHTING EVIL BY MOONLIGHT
wallabri
267
29
it'll happen
gravitationaltim
30
30
BOY IM RIDIN LIKE THAT
MyNameIsMad
783
114
This will need concluding
Angry-buddha-88
1
6
Mature content
Robot Riot: Page 14
BlindKnight
27
2
Cold War: Simple Version
AngusBurgers
2,308
632
Activity
heysawbones is totally starting a thanksgiving meme so I have to do it now and you should too.
Goal: Think of ten things that you can do with your friends (online or offline) that cheer you up.
1) Be able to rant about city planning and architecture and the general sociology of cities with heysawbones - and she not only understands what I'm talking about but offer a competing idea.
2) Dicking around with Dick (PepperoniDeluxe)
3) Philosophy, theology and awful terrible J-pop in the same conversation with Toshiful
4) Nerdgasming about something incredibly dorky and awesome with Bilious
5) Going to see cool shit on a man-date (concerts, movies, hip literary spelling bees with famous writers and hipster celebrities) with my irlbff.
6) Arguing ridiculous politics with my other irlbff (yeah we're kind of a trinity you got a problem with that)
7) Talkin' books with the Writers OCT Alliance crew (DeadGP, mippins, Lacklusterious, Kitty-Quixotic, Ahm-Mahjick, EenPaddestoel, Angry-buddha-88, Leucrotta, and everyone else sorry bros I tried to get everyone)
8) Drinking and smoking and generally hanging out with the boys - usually in someone's basement or porch or something.
9) Making shit - usually in Forge or something - with my actual brother
10) Trolling with everyone I've ever trolled with, there are a lot of you I don't want to list them all.
NOW YOU HAVE TO DO IT
Goal: Think of ten things that you can do with your friends (online or offline) that cheer you up.
1) Be able to rant about city planning and architecture and the general sociology of cities with heysawbones - and she not only understands what I'm talking about but offer a competing idea.
2) Dicking around with Dick (PepperoniDeluxe)
3) Philosophy, theology and awful terrible J-pop in the same conversation with Toshiful
4) Nerdgasming about something incredibly dorky and awesome with Bilious
5) Going to see cool shit on a man-date (concerts, movies, hip literary spelling bees with famous writers and hipster celebrities) with my irlbff.
6) Arguing ridiculous politics with my other irlbff (yeah we're kind of a trinity you got a problem with that)
7) Talkin' books with the Writers OCT Alliance crew (DeadGP, mippins, Lacklusterious, Kitty-Quixotic, Ahm-Mahjick, EenPaddestoel, Angry-buddha-88, Leucrotta, and everyone else sorry bros I tried to get everyone)
8) Drinking and smoking and generally hanging out with the boys - usually in someone's basement or porch or something.
9) Making shit - usually in Forge or something - with my actual brother
10) Trolling with everyone I've ever trolled with, there are a lot of you I don't want to list them all.
NOW YOU HAVE TO DO IT
- Listening to: a whole bunch of 1930s music - don't ask
- Reading: nano is doa
deviantID
Comments
HAPPY BIRTHDAAAAAY YO. Hope you have exactly the right ratio of maximum irresponsible fun and partying down with minimum regrets and responsibilities later. 8D
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