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About Literature / Hobbyist Phil24/Male/United States Group :iconfab-collab: Fab-Collab
There is no I in collab!
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Deviant for 9 Years
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"The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly."
-- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
I remember when dinosaurs roamed the Earth,
Plastic claws leaving footprints in the carpet.
I remember when Santa was real and God was too,
Cuts and bruises would heal faster if you kissed them.
My rose-colored glasses have a thick prescription
Sitting crooked on my nose, scratched and overused.
Work, sleep, repeat. Cynical, critical is all I'll ever be
What will become of the land of the brave, home of the free?
Play the guitar and learn how to sing if you want to succeed
But 99 songs of revolution won't do shit if you want to get paid.
There are no wars anymore, only terrorists and genocide,
Buzzwords, Buzzfeed, and ignorance to hide behind.
Like and subscribe, share if you agree
Skip this ad in 3, 2, 1...
:iconphil314:Phil314 1 0
Nine Eleven
I was at school when it happened. Just a regular second grade class in our quiet Western New York town; we were learning multiplication, I think. It was another ordinary day until my mother showed up outside the classroom.
"It's okay, Philip, Uncle Willie is fine," she said, almost out of breath. My older sister trailed behind. "It's gonna be okay. I love you." She pulled me in and hugged me close.
I was confused as hell. Uncle Willie lived in the faraway land of Long Island, I only remembered him vaguely from the few family trips there years before. "Uncle Willie? What do you mean?"
My father came home from work early. The four of us sat in silence, staring helplessly at the television, watching black smoke billow from the World Trade Center.
Even in the bustling Financial District, the city keeps quiet at the Memorial. Two gaping holes, thousands of names. Sarah and I pass our tickets at the counter and enter the Memorial and Museum, shedding our coats and warming up from the bri
:iconphil314:Phil314 1 0
Where I'm From
Where I'm from, people stay
content with their football
and corn, but not me.
Brace-faced and soccer playing,
I left.
New people have a common look
in response to my reply during small talk.
"Where I'm from" is easier said
When it's someplace else.
I don't get homesick.
Never did, never will.
But that's not to say
I will ever forget
Where I'm from.
:iconphil314:Phil314 0 0
Oxford Man by Phil314 Oxford Man :iconphil314:Phil314 0 0
Your eyes focus to the page.
You skim the first few lines and skip to the end.
Disappointed at the apparent lack of a twist, you return to the beginning.
You are distracted by the typeface and comment to yourself that you prefer Serif fonts.
You're bored already but move your eyes down the page to be polite.
You focus your attention at the edge of your view. He's still watching you but trying hard to look at everything but.
You turn the page.
At least he found a proper use for onychotillomania. Is it rude to correct his use of "their?" This can't be the first draft. Maybe it was intentional...
He starts tapping his foot.
You read slow anyways, but especially under pressure. Is he looking for a critique? It's not /bad/, but you can't tell him you don't like it. You wouldn’t want anyone to do that to you. You skip a few more lines.
"I really like the part where Godzilla and the Kool-Aid Man turn out to be friends," you lie. Might have made more sense if you read the previous page.
:iconphil314:Phil314 1 0
Humans of New York
They call it the city that never sleeps—it's true, you know.
Sarah and I stretched our tired legs after spending ten hours lulled by the gentle rocking of the rail car—jostled awake just before sleep took us, every time. We emerged from the mechanical echoes of Penn Station and were greeted by the vibrant city streets. It was past one, but the air was alive with traffic, neon reflecting off of the wet pavement, and indistinct porch-step conversations. A cool, after-rain breeze blew Sarah's hair across her face as we both looked upwards in awe of the buildings towering above.
After a good night's rest, we spent the next few days walking the New York streets under clear summer skies. Times Square, MOMA, all the tourist spots. My favorite was the observation deck of Rockefeller Center. There's something inspiring about seeing the city from above, watching cars pump through avenues and one-way streets like blood in steel and concrete veins. Sarah fell in love with Central Park.
:iconphil314:Phil314 8 19
A Coffee Shop Encounter
"You know, I don't usually talk to strangers," Charlotte said, sipping her coffee in a vain attempt to hide a smile.
"I do. It's a miracle I haven't been killed by one of you yet,” Amos said, “I mean, statistically speaking, a stranger like you could have six people chopped up in their basement and I would never know."
"Is that so? So of all the 467,000 murderers in the U.S., what makes me the killer?" Charlotte said, raising her eyebrows.
"I mean, look at you. You're drinking your coffee even though you already burned your tongue twice since we started talking!"
"You know what kind of person notices things like that? Crazy maniacs!" Charlotte said as the pair of them found seats by the café window.
“Touché,” Amos said, taking a sip of his own.
A table away, someone got up to leave the cafe with a confused expression. Accidentally stumbling over Amos's stool, they grumbled an apology and pretended not to hurry out the door. Amos shook hot coffee from h
:iconphil314:Phil314 0 0
GFX Guru by Phil314 GFX Guru :iconphil314:Phil314 0 0 Simple Signature Tutorial by Phil314 Simple Signature Tutorial :iconphil314:Phil314 1 0 spacewalk by Phil314 spacewalk :iconphil314:Phil314 2 0
writer's block
i don't write anymore
but the words are still there
clawing at the doors
and boarded up windows
i don't write because i can't
it's not because i dont want to
i made new keys
but someone changed the locks
i don't write
or stories
i write cover letters
and correspondance
but they never write back
:iconphil314:Phil314 1 0
Portrait of Survival - Parts 1-2
[A survivor enters a run-down home in the village of Sosnovka, Chernarus. His search for anything useful turns up empty. As one last check in his sweep of the bedroom, the survivor peeks under the bed. He examines a small leather-bound book, its cover weathered and spine frayed -- "The Picture of Dorian Gray," it read. It must have been well used even before the outbreak. As the survivor flips through the pages, he notices something odd about the typeface. A closer look reveals that the pages' margins are filled with notes, sketches, and occasional drops of blood. This is not Dorian Gray, it is a journal. The pencil marks are faded and the pages waterlogged, scarred by the merciless Chernarussian skies. A cackle of thunder calls out and light rain begins singing its all-too-familiar pitter-pat at the roof and against the windows. The survivor gets comfortable in the bed and turns back to the beginning. He leans to the left to avoid the drips leaking through the ceiling and begins to re
:iconphil314:Phil314 0 0
Knight by Phil314 Knight :iconphil314:Phil314 1 4 Survive by Phil314 Survive :iconphil314:Phil314 1 4 Mass Effect by Phil314 Mass Effect :iconphil314:Phil314 5 0 Abstract by Phil314 Abstract :iconphil314:Phil314 0 0


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Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States

Hello and welcome to my profile!

I write as a hobby and play around in Photoshop from time to time. Please consider leaving feedback on my pieces so I can improve, I'd appreciate it!

Related pages

To anyone reading this,

Profile update! It's been years since I was active on deviantART, and boy is this a trip down memory lane. I've cleaned out my gallery and shuffled things around. None of my teen-angst poems have been deleted, they've just been moved to the aptly named "vault." (Check it out here, cringe-worthy stuff.)

As of late I have been writing. Flash fiction and other short form prose, mostly. Prose collection, poetry collection.
Back in the spring of this year I made some new additions to my signature banners gallery as well.

I post my latest writing to my blog, and I'm on wattpad too, but haven't given that profile much love.

I'm posting my works online to get feedback so I can grow as a writer and learn from my mistakes. So, dear reader, please comment with your thoughts. Including on this post!

Hooray for updates.




Add a Comment:
RatherOffensive Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2014
Hey Phil, we need to talk. Nothing serious! Just wanna catch up. Send me a note if you'd rather talk like that, y'know, like old times?
SinistrosePhosphate Featured By Owner Nov 26, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist

Thank you very much for adding my article to your list of favourites. I appreciate the gesture very much! I hope I was able to bring something interesting and useful to you. 

With many thanks,
Phil314 Featured By Owner Nov 26, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
my pleasure!
Felizias Featured By Owner May 7, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the :+fav:. :D
Phil314 Featured By Owner May 7, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
you're welcome!
MistaHipstah Featured By Owner Aug 15, 2012  Student General Artist
Hello, random deviant! Cool gallery. A variety artist too, I see. :D
Phil314 Featured By Owner Aug 23, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Hey thanks! and yeah, I tend to move from one medium to another over time. I was really into photoshop for a while, then writing, the. drawing, then writing, and now music. I still have all the skills I learned, all that is lacking is inspiration.

Thanks for the comment!
MistaHipstah Featured By Owner Aug 23, 2012  Student General Artist
Well I'm sure you'll find the inspiration soon!

No prob. It was my pleasure.
LuckySevin Featured By Owner Jun 7, 2012
Thanks for the llama Phil!
Phil314 Featured By Owner Jun 7, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
No problem dude
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