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About Literature / Professional . . . amara lento temperet risuMale/Germany Recent Activity
Deviant for 15 Years
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Three a.m. -- Revised
He used to lie on his back to get to sleep. The stillness of the night would tie each limb to linen, and as the soft caress of yellow light reached through the curtains, he would breathe sleep.
Throughout the years, he noticed with gradual intensity the cracks on his ceiling as they became more prominent against the white. Cast iron shadows would creep suddenly over each break, and as the black of night grew, so would the lines. They threatened to envelope him.
He began to sleep on his side, one protective shoulder standing guard against the angry ceiling. His eyes could stray and tie to objects he'd never taken the time to see before. He would examine the bends and folds in posters tacked hastily to the wall, see each tear as a travesty. For the first time, he saw clearly, saw the details that were carelessly executed before.
Sheets down, bare feet scrape the ground, and the subtle click of the light would stream light into the room. Fix, tape, smooth, it was all in the techniq
:iconcymbeline:Cymbeline 1 2
Cosmo Undercover
So I was watching professional wrestling while working on my hot rod when my Three Stooges back hair cheese-in-a-can Pamela Anderson armpit flatulence.
Are all the females gone yet? Good, because I need a private word with you guys, specifically you young, single guys. As a member of your tribe, I know that we could all find the girl of our dreams if we could only understand one thing. Unfortunately, that thing is girls in general. We could take that girl we yearn for in our arms and hold her like there's no tomorrow, but we'd eventually be beaten off or arrested because we have no idea what else to do other than cling to her like a barnacle.
But I have discovered a ray of hope!  A lot of girls like to huddle around magazines with names like Teen Tiger Girl Beat Fashion Vogue Party Monthly. These publications are filled with instructive opinions on what girls should be, often giving them explicit advice on how to look, eat, sleep, walk, act, flirt and other essentials
:icontriptychr:triptychr 6 50
Shine On You Crazy Diamond by Usiku Shine On You Crazy Diamond :iconusiku:Usiku 226 146
On Dying a Virgin
On Dying a Virgin
Perhaps, you may think, there is something shameful about dying a virgin? But riddle me this-- in a society that not a century ago put a woman's virginity above her life, is it not this eternal innocence that we all desire?
But "dying a virgin?" you say? Excuse our malnomers, for what we truly revere is living a virgin. To see the world in astounding clarity without having each image marred by sexuality is the closest one can come to divinity. As your friends and adversaries lose their virginity, they lose their minds. Just watch the next time you see someone who is sexually active. There is no sweet small talk about the weather, no cordial compliments tossed about in our lovely trite manner, no indeed. There is only OMGWTFCONDOM and OMGWTFPENIS.
Please note that it is your virginal obligation to blush at that last sentence.
To live a virgin is to live. To live is great, ask anyone!* Sex ruins it all. Even the very words associated with sex are unappeali
:iconcymbeline:Cymbeline 5 20
The Sleep of Reason by saintartaud The Sleep of Reason :iconsaintartaud:saintartaud 4 12 The Smallrus by ursulav The Smallrus :iconursulav:ursulav 1,401 217 Cthulhu - Gold and opal (Daily Deviation) by somk Cthulhu - Gold and opal (Daily Deviation) :iconsomk:somk 2,242 380 The First Last Unicorn by puimun The First Last Unicorn :iconpuimun:puimun 3,966 464
A short story by Daniel Klein
Based on a drawing by and dedicated to Lydia C. Burris
See the drawing at
(or in the preview of this story)
I guess it was my hat. They always noticed my hat first. I never took it off. It was a long, black hat, and it smelt softly of decomposition, if you got close enough to smell it. No one ever did. There was a necklace around my neck that day, hanging out over the black silk shirt, which just looked wrong in a place like this. It helped me avoid a place I really didn't want to go to. I figure I didn't look at it much... never touched it... hell I killed men for merely bringing up the necklace in a conversation.
Then again, you didn't just have a conversation with me. Except for the one where I say "And this is the part I hate most" in the end. I took my place by the bar, having scouted four potentials. I looked at the barkeeper. Looked through the wood of the ba
:icondanielzklein:danielzklein 7 43
Freedom rising
Freedom rising
The traveller walked steadily through low, swirling mists, sure of his path despite the hidden road. His grey eyes gauged the rising height of the Great Northern Range that paralleled the old trade route he strode and he allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. About him, the pre-dawn monochrome was abruptly suffused with gentle pinks and yellows as the sun rose at his back. He paused for a moment, and heard the long, low growl of the mighty Betam horns of Karaket heralding the Sun-God's triumphant return from the Wastelands. As the enharmonic thunder of the temple horns died the traveller resumed his journey, knowing that he would reach the mountain cityhold of Karaket just as the Morning Gate was opened.
'Great Lord of my people, have mercy.'
Reika no longer noticed the stench of her little cell. She was barely aware of the rancid, lice infested straw pallet on which she lay hugging her knees or of the leather band around her neck that officially marked her a Si
:iconminorkey:MinorKey 3 74
Cursed Heirloom by puimun Cursed Heirloom :iconpuimun:puimun 931 202



. . . amara lento temperet risu
Artist | Professional | Literature
The past is not dead. In fact, it's not even past (William Faulkner)
  • Listening to: Birds and Buildings
  • Reading: Excession (Ian M. Banks)
  • Watching: Top of the Lake
  • Drinking: Belgian Beer
I just realized there are still some people around who I actually miss. People I spent a lot of time discussing literature and life with, especially in the years from 2003-2006 when I was still working nightshift in a hotel and deviantArt, as unlikely as it might seem, was one of the few good things in my life.

Well, things have changed. My life got better. The internet got worse. Long story short, I'm not here anymore. But I don't want to delete my stuff, and I think it's important people can still reach me. Because sometimes I miss them.

So: The old links below are still legit, although I don't update my vita here anymore. My life takes place elsewhere today. But there's still my homepage at You'll find an email address there, along with my real name. That again will lead lead you to my Twitter or Facebook accounts or whatever I'm using right now. If you want to drop me a line, by all means do. I'm still writing stuff and I still like to discuss life.

I hope you're all doing fine.

:bulletwhite: Gallery links:
My gallery: Photography and designs.
My scrapbook: Short stories, poems and snapshots.

:bulletwhite: Amazon links:
Die Magier von Montparnasse: novel (German)
Der Kristallpalast: novel (German)
Fairwater: novel (German)
Narnia — Das Rollenspiel: roleplaying rulebook (German)
Gagarin's Underpants: short stories by the creative writing class of Heidelberg University. In English, with illustrations by saintartaud

:bulletwhite: More:
The Rainlights Gazette: My blog (mostly German).
In Daze Like Seas: My music.


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