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He comes when I’m neck-deep in porcelain. He stands below my porch, and waits for me with a smile.

He knows it’ll be 20 minutes at best until I muster the courage to step outside the door, and another 10 until I’ll even look at him, but he never seems to mind.

“Aren’t you tired of rejection yet?” I sigh, when I finally acknowledge him, wrinkling my temples into ripples and headaches. He’s a statue in the corner of my vision.

“Finally.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. There's that smirk. “You’ll come to me eventually.” He always sounds so sure.

“Why do you always insist on coming out like that?” He surveys my bare legs and feet as they bury toes in snow, but he stops suddenly. He doesn't look at me as he throws me up his scarf. “Frostbite isn’t a very good method for pain. Want to tell me what happened?”

I shake, but we both know it’s not the cold. I seek out his eyes like anchors in tsunamis. The swells that were raging calm and calm. My lips tremble and I almost curl into a ball of discovered shame when—

“Run away with me.”

“Oh yeah? To where?” And there I go again feeding his imagination with a teasing smile. My knuckles bruise the wood.

“Somewhere with no pain. No fingers to steal us. Just endless blue skies--and stars!” He chuckles, tapping the air awake, “everywhere.”

The maintenance man hasn’t come yet, and the streetlamps flicker and dance in my iris.

I bite my lip. “… can there be birds?”

He always can see the fear inside my eyes, and it softens him. “Yes. Yes, there can be birds. Pure white ones, with wings—”

“Two, right? Big and beautiful?” I’m leaning over the railing now, and I can’t help but see it.

He flings his arm out, and I can’t tell if he’s beckoning me or flying, “magnificent pairs.”

His fingers are beautiful.

I smile, and there’s a waterline that obscures him for a moment. He stares knowingly back. I lean clos—

“…I can’t.” I don’t mean to choke on a sob, but I do.

He looks at the ground, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I understand.” But I don’t think he does.

Then the smirk returns. “You’ll come to me eventually.”

He evaporates into the wind, and I cling to the calm. It isn’t until storm clouds rumble over the mountains that I realize I still have his scarf.

(I’ll just give it to him next time.)
There's a porch laughing at the back of my house, and maybe this is why it's such a problem: Death is one charming guy.
(didn't Disney promise us our happily ever afters, too?)
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:iconpennedinwhite:
PennedinWhite Featured By Owner Dec 25, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
I really enjoyed this. Quite the intriguing take on a subject many try to sensationalize a bit too much. This was a bit more down to earth and a humanizing for death. 

Towards the end. I almost wished for more. Not furthering the story, but more interaction, more detail? Not saying it is bad. Quite the opposite really. I loved it so much I wish there was more to it. :)

Thanks for sharing! :heart:
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:iconnullibicity:
Nullibicity Featured By Owner Dec 26, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
:squee: <-- I'm pretty sure I just imitated this cute guy for a second. This piece is very near and dear to me. That's probably morbid, considering the circumstance and the content, but in a way death is a part of everyone's lives eventually, and I'm not entirely sure if it need be as taboo or scarce as some try to make it. Anyway, I really appreciated that you took your time to read this, and to think of ways to both improve the piece, and to express yourself here. I do know that you lend your mind and words to a lot of people on this site, and so I just cannot say "thank you" enough for the time you took too visit my little corner. It means an awful lot!

As for adding more, I really am grateful you mentioned that. I looked at it in those terms, and I think I understand what you mean: it seems to grow less in terms of interaction as the piece comes to a close, as the effort is expended to side phrases and symbolism/metaphors. It's just kind of a head scratcher for me, as I find I can never completely return to the same mindset after I've "finished" a piece.  I could definitely return to something close enough to add to it, but I find myself unsure of what direction would add something and not just be an extra. Hmm, I suppose I'll have to think on it. I don't know if you'd have any thoughts of direction? Either way, I appreciate this feedback immensely. I think your words have merit and truth. I shall try to see what I can do... I am just unsure if it will be changed any time soon: I find myself lacking creativity and originality lately, hence all the annoying prompt pieces.

Thanks so much, lovely! Sorry for replying in a novel, but since I'd already put all the work and thought in, it seemed a shame to erase it. I shall try to keep it shorter in the future. Take care!
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:iconpennedinwhite:
PennedinWhite Featured By Owner Dec 31, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
No need to apologize for the long reply. I quite actually enjoy well thought out responses. Means I did good :p

There is no rush on any of this, just expressing my thoughts on the matter. If you can't add more to it, then it stands as a great read. And don't worry about the lack of creativity, we all suffer from it at some point, like myself :)

:hug:
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:iconnullibicity:
Nullibicity Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for all of the assurance! I think you are lovely to talk to, and your kindness is felt! :hug:
I do think it would be lovely to be able to change it, so I'll make a note so I do not forget. I hope I can give it justice, one day! (:
Thanks, again! Even if I am in a creative funk now, hearing some advice and feedback on my writing encourages me! I hope it returns soon!
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:iconpennedinwhite:
PennedinWhite Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
:blush: Thank you, darling. 

I am sure you will do it justice. :D
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:icondoolhoofd:
doolhoofd Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015
:skull: Death In Samarkand :skull: -- from Seduction by Jean Baudrillard.


"An ellipsis of the sign, an eclipse of meaning: an illusion. The mortal distraction a single sign can cause instantaneously.

Consider the story of the soldier who meets Death at a crossing in the marketplace, and believes he saw him make a menacing gesture in his direction. He rushes to the king's palace and asks the king for his best horse in order that he might flee during the night far from Death, as far as Samarkand. Upon which the king summons Death to the palace and reproaches him for having frightened one of his best servants. But Death, astonished, replies: "I didn't mean to frighten him! It was just that I was surprised to see this soldier here, when we had a rendez-vous tomorrow in Samarkand..."

Yes, one runs towards one's fate all the more surely by seeking to escape it. Yes, everyone seeks his own death, and the failed acts are the most successful. Yes, signs follow an unconscious course. But all this concerns the truth of the rendez-vous in Samarkand; it does not account for the seduction of the story, which is in no way an apologue of truth.

What is astounding about the story is that this seemingly inevitable rendez-vous need not have taken place. There is nothing to suggest that the soldier would have been in Samarkand without this chance encounter, and without the ill-luck of Death's naive gesture, which acted in spite of itself as a gesture of seduction. Had Death been content to call the soldier back to order, the story would lose its charm. Everything here is hinged on a single, involuntary sign. The gesture does not appear to be part of a strategy, nor even an unconscious ruse; yet it takes on the unexpected depth of seduction, that is, it appears as something that moves laterally, as a sign that, unbeknownst to the protagonists (including Death, as well as the soldier), advances a deadly command, an aleatory sign behind which another conjunction, marvelous or disastrous, is being enacted. A conjunction that gives the sign's trajectory all the characteristics of a witticism.

No one in the story has anything to reproach himself with - or else the king who lent his horse, is as guilty as anyone else. No. Behind the apparent liberty of the two central characters (Death was free to make his gesture, the soldier to flee), they were both following a rule of which neither were aware. The rule of this game, which, like every fundamental rule, must remain secret, is that death is not a brute event, but only occurs through seduction, that is, by way of an instantaneous, indecipherable complicity, by a sign or signs that will not be deciphered in time.

Death is a rendez-vous, not an objective destiny. Death cannot fail to go since he is this rendez-vous, that is, the allusive conjunction of signs and rules which make up the game. At the same time, Death is an innocent player in the game. This is what gives the story its secret irony, whose resolution appears as a stroke of wit [trait d'esprit], and provides us with such sublime pleasure - and distinguishes it from a moral fable or a vulgar tale about the death instinct. The spiritual character [trait spirituel] of the story extends the spirited character [trait d'esprit gestuel] of Death's gesture, and the two seductions, that of Death and of the story, fuse together.

Death's astonishment is delightful, an astonishment at the frivolity of an arrangement where things proceed by chance: "But this soldier should have known that he was expected in Samarkand tomorrow, and taken his time to get there..." However Death shows only surprise, as if his existence did not depend as much as the soldier's on the fact that they were to meet in Samarkand. Death lets things happen, and it is his casualness that makes him appealing - this is why the soldier hastens to join him.

None of this involves the unconscious, metaphysics or psychology. Or even strategy. Death has no plan. He restores chance with a chance gesture; this is how he works, yet everything still gets done. There is nothing that cannot not be done, yet everything still preserves the lightness of chance, of a furtive gesture, an accidental encounter or an illegible sign. That's how it is with seduction...

Moreover, the soldier went to meet death because he gave meaning to a meaningless gesture which did not even concern him. He took personally something that was not addressed to him, as one might mistake for oneself a smile meant for someone else. The height of seduction is to be without seduction. The man seduced is caught in spite of himself in a web of stray signs.
And it is because the sign has been turned from its meaning or "seduced" (se-ducere: to take aside, to lead astray) that the story itself is seductive. It is when signs are seduced that they become seductive."

Full .pdf Seductionmonoskop.org/images/9/96/Baudr…


The death by JaviGarcia
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:iconnullibicity:
Nullibicity Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
I hope I read this comment right in terms of intention, which was that you really looked deeper into this piece. I was pleasantly surprised to read this little excerpt and see that Jean's representation of death was actually similar to mine, in a way. Or how several points connected between these two pieces. I enjoyed the story immensely, too, and the insight that was given as description. Thank you so very, very much for putting this here: I adored the read. And I really enjoyed the connection of death to a seductive happening. Thank you cute blush 
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:iconnosedivve:
nosedivve Featured By Owner Edited Feb 16, 2015   Writer
Why in the world is this in scraps?? This is magnificent! Lovely, it's just beautiful and lovely! I adore how death is portrayed here.
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:iconnullibicity:
Nullibicity Featured By Owner Feb 16, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Traveling got delayed a bit (I totally read the clock wrong, so that was a "duh" moment for me), so I just thought I'd reply to this real quick! Thank you so much for your support and encouragement. It seriously means the world. Especially to hear you liked this piece! I hold a soft spot for it, but I simply thought it was because of my own twisted bias, but hearing it could be enjoyed really makes me happy. Thank you for your thoughts on this piece, and while it may not make too much of a difference, I did move it to a category. (I'm just so bad with categories that maybe "scraps" was a better way to define it, ha).

You always give me new things to think about on the pieces that you comment on, and I am really appreciative of that perspective! It's so helpful, even if it is in the way it uncovers a piece of truth to myself that I hadn't noticed before :love:.
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:icondaghrgenzeen:
Daghrgenzeen Featured By Owner Jan 30, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
This is magnificent.
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:iconnullibicity:
Nullibicity Featured By Owner Feb 16, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
You are far too wonderful, and I'm feeling oh so grateful that you took the time out of your day to share your thoughts. Thank you! It truly means so much! Especially on this piece, which I hold quite the soft spot for. :love::rose:
I hope you have a wonderful day, lovely, and thank you, again!
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:icondaghrgenzeen:
Daghrgenzeen Featured By Owner Feb 16, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
You're most welcome. :rose:
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:iconcrystallized-skies:
crystallized-skies Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
This is beautiful, simply beautiful. The way you portrayed death and the struggle here is so raw and powerful. Incredible work my dear. 
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:iconnullibicity:
Nullibicity Featured By Owner Dec 30, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Well aren't you just wonderful? Thank you so very much for taking the time to comment on my pieces! I really, really appreciate it! I'm actually relieved to hear you could like this piece, too. To be honest, it was a raw experiment, and this was the first draft. Due to its rough state, I'm really happy it could still turn out to be something that others could ponder over and enjoy! That is a huge compliment, I think, to any writer... to hear other people cared about and liked their work. So thank you! :hug:
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:iconcrystallized-skies:
crystallized-skies Featured By Owner Dec 30, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
:blushes: You're quite welcome dear. It's a pleasure reading your work. For a rough draft it certainly was a fine piece. :heart:
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:iconnullibicity:
Nullibicity Featured By Owner Dec 30, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
:blushes: d'aw, now you're going to get me all blushing and feeling sentimental. Thank you so, so much! You are so kind, and it makes me heart get all twitter-pated :giggle: thank you for your lovely kindness, dear! It's warmly appreciated~
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:iconcrystallized-skies:
crystallized-skies Featured By Owner Dec 30, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
And it's gladly given. :hug:
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:iconiamdefective:
IAmDefective Featured By Owner Dec 25, 2014   General Artist
Holy shit. Floored by this. Your writing ability is something to be envied.
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:iconnullibicity:
Nullibicity Featured By Owner Dec 28, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I don't know if that's entirely true, but gosh do I want to believe it! :giggle:. Thank you so much for this lovely comment! It made me smile~
I hope you had a great Christmas (or 25th, should you not celebrate) and that your New Years will be even better! :rose:
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:iconiamdefective:
IAmDefective Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2014   General Artist
100% sincere and I hope 2015 is the year all of your wishes and dreams start to come true :)
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:iconnullibicity:
Nullibicity Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Bless you, love. Thank you so, so much! :heart:
I hope the same to you~
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:iconladybitterblue:
LadyBitterblue Featured By Owner Dec 23, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I just love this too much to put into words. I've been rereading it all day and thinking of it. The atmosphere, the writing style... You are just amazing.
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:iconnullibicity:
Nullibicity Featured By Owner Dec 28, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Dear, your comments are like drugs. Did you know that? Good lord, you always give me such wonderful, wonderful words, or thoughts, or compliments, and I always end each reading just wishing I could hug roses and smiles into your spine :giggle::heart:. Even better than that? You have the patience to put up with me ignoring my inbox for weeks and weeks. Seriously: thank you so, so much! You are a doll, and I adore you.
(This was an experimental piece, so I really do appreciate the feedback! When I was little, I used to like to write novels [but they were horrible little things, haha]. One day, I got yelled at that writing wasn't really art, and that I'd die hungry if I pursued it. I stopped writing novels, narrations, etc. Took forever to even start up poetry. So this piece is choppy and iffy in places because I haven't written anything like it in so long... so I really, really appreciate your words. They are warm pieces of encouragement! Maybe I'll try to make something like this in the future! :hug::heart:)
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:iconladybitterblue:
LadyBitterblue Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Oh you! :tighthug: You already give me so many smiles with your replies. And I understand that you have a lot going on in your life, so of course I never mind when you take your time! I know that you will eventually read all comments and that they mean a lot to you. I'm glad when I can give you a little happiness c:
You are an angel and I adore you even more. :heart:
(It's really wonderful. I'm very, very sorry to hear you were pushed away from writing, but it's great to see you find the courage to start again! I've been writing novels since I was little, too. It's what's always been getting me through everything. So I can only encourage you to write and write and not give up again. Also, I really want to read more prose from you :D I absolutely love this, so much, and I think it's just as great as your poetry. You're such an amazing writer in general. :heart:)
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