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This is How Good I am with WordsI’ve got a secret that I have barely even acted on yet
I bet that last line was confusing–
Well, I guess I meant to say that first line–
I’m sorry, I’m not too good with my words.
That’s part of the secret though.
It’s actually kind of an embarrassing secret,
Involving relationships and words and stuff like that because
I can speak well through my fingers and ink,
But not with my mouth,
Because when my brain creates words for my mouth to speak
It tends to screw things up pretty often,
But when my brain creates words for my fingers to write
They actually come out pretty okay.
Maybe it’s because I know that I can’t annoy the paper
(Like I’m probably annoying the reader)
With the amount of words that I say,
How they come out,
How long it takes me to say them,
And what I’m trying to talk about.
Four New SeasonsThis world begins anew in the beauty of spring.
Its warmth is just again beginning,
Its light shining a bit brighter through the green leaves of the trees
Only to touch the ground ever so softly.
The light stays for a bit longer during its brand new days.
The newest forms of life open their eyes in the morning’s light,
Awakening again by their parent’s sides.
The warmth of the light grows stronger as the days turn to summer,
And the young continue to grow with it.
They learn about the world around them,
And experience the beauty of the summer’s new days,
Like how the rain ends as quickly as it starts
And how to search and hunt for the things they need.
But like the summer rain, summer ends as quickly as it starts.
The beginning of autumn brings the onset of change.
The leaves upon the trees, that once were green
Now are dying off, and turn new shades of colors.
The days get chillier about half way through,
Leaving the young ones, now much older, to change like the lea
Failure is Instructive“Failure is instructive.” –John Dewey
I have failed many times in my life. There are countless things that I have done wrong. I have so many regrets, it’s hard to keep count of them all. There’s nothing about my failures, my mistakes, and my regrets that I can change.
Except improve from them.
Improvement is a solution, right? I can learn from my mistakes. I can make right what I have done wrong. My failures are not the only things that define me. Sure, I can’t exactly fix my regrets, but I can at least try. My successes are a part of me too. They are just as a part of me as my failures are.
Even though I am one to give up when I feel like things are too hard, and sometimes I can’t help myself from seeing both myself and the world around me negatively, that doesn’t mean that I act that way constantly. I am not perfect. I know that all too well. I can rattle off a list to you about what I don’t like about myself,
How I See MyselfI’m not a stereotypical human being
I’m not a stereotypical teen
I see and know and feel
Differently than people expect
I see patterns and equations to get through:
Life, death, religion, and class that
Eventually leads to the same thing;
A class act of religious life and death
I know too much about everything
I know too little about the same thing
That she was talking about last week
Or is it next month?
I feel as different as everybody else
But everyone else is the same person
One way or another or exactly the same
As the guy who sits in the corner alone
My life is a dream in comparison to
Just what people think of me
There are things that they know
And secrets they aren’t telling me
I don’t know what I’m doing
Where I’m going or who I want to be
I don’t know how to live or die
Or even do geometry
All I know is all that I can do
I can get through my life on my own
Somehow by myself, but maybe not alone
I’ll need that helping hand and a
The Intro VersionMy silence shouldn’t be frowned upon
My words are more important than you think.
Don’t see my silence as rude,
Don’t you dare think that I’m dumb.
I may not always raise my hand to give the answer,
But that’s only out of fear.
Fear of the limelight,
Fear of the attention,
Fear of the judgement
That others put on to me.
Those fears are just as bad
As his fear of heights, her fear of the dark,
All of the things that you fear-
And everything that fits in between.
I treat my fears quietly.
I fight all of my wars wordlessly.
An introvert is what I was yesterday,
An introvert is what I am today,
An introvert is what I’ll be tomorrow.
There’s no changing that.
The Liar's TruthLies, lies, lies
and truths, truths, truths.
Neither can distract me from
how I feel about you, you, you.
Meeting in the Moonlight The ground is chilled by the night’s subtle breeze. The nearly full moon decides to show itself tonight, and reflects its light in the slightly choppy water of the New York City harbor that’s sits before me. The small hill I sit on, in this small, empty park near the Brooklyn Bridge gives me a perfect view of the city’s lights twinkling in the night, replacing the stars they removed years ago. The only thing that separates me from that city now is the harbor. The only thing that separates me from that harbor is a few yards of grass, and an asphalt path. All of these things are seen by only the moon and I.
I’m the only one in this park right now, in the middle of this silent night. This is my time. This is my time to think. My time to be alone. My job surrounds me with people who talk at me, not to me. With my roommate comes parties and borderline alcoholism. Nothing makes me more relaxed, more at peace with both myself a
Frozen Knucklesbroken bones
Let It Go (LokixReader)
Let It Go
"I don’t care, What they’re going to say..."
You sang cheerfully, looking at yourself in the mirrior. It was one of those weird winters where almost every time you looked at the Weather Channel, TV program or website, it was ass freezingly cold outside. And, I say ass freezing, as in ASS FREEZING. It was almost 16 degrees out to begin with, with a wind chill making it feel like -10.
And yet, here you were, going out to see Frozen in theaters.
Thankfully, you weren't going alone.
You slipped your hair into a braid, Elsa style, as a familiar head rested on top of you own, arms snaking around your shoulders.
"Hello Loki." You sighed. You saw him smile in the reflective glass.
"Ello (y/n)." He said gleefully. He always seemed chipper, a little out of character, when he greeted you. "Now, let me tell you, unlike the last time, I refuse to be late to a movie."
"Oh please. Endless Love wasn't THAT bad." His shocked expression made you rethink
Road To Mentality~WARNING, this story has scenes that will disturb some people, read at your own risk.~
It was seven PM, a day at the orphanage had finally finished, but it was another disappointment for Jack. It was was a cold, snowy December, the coldest weather England has ever had, and still no sign of his mother. Even though Jack was 15, each day he was hoping that his mother would come back for him, but she has not seen him since he was born. He was usually patient, and maybe hoped that another loving family might welcome him with open arms and hearts, but that was when he was ten. Jack knew that he had little chance of being adopted at such an old age, he couldn't even go to a foster home for the fact the caretakers labeled Jack as a trouble maker for wetting the bed and hiding in places that were out of bounds, like the time he was found under a counter in the kitchen for three days. The stench of urine that lingered on him would put anyone off him anyways.
A Normal Day at the Ahnenerbe Cafe part 1Prologue
It was a beautiful sunny day outside as the café Ahnenerbe as the place was busy as always. Course for one of the customers, things could be better.
Kirito aka Kazuto Kirigaya sighed a bit as he was looking at the Want ads in the newspapers.
Kirito looked and smiled a little to see Wing.
“Oh, hi Wing,” said Kirito, through there was a hit off from his normal cheerful tone.
Wing noticed this as she raised an eyebrow a bit.
“You all right?” asked Wing, “You seem down for some reason.”
Kirito paused for a small moment before he sighed.
“True is, I’m having trouble finding someplace to work at,” admitted Kirito.
Wing couldn’t help but smirk a bit.
“You? Looking for a job? I thought you said your main forces was going to be school with how long you’ve been trapped in Sword Art Online,” pointed out Wing.
Kirito nodded a little.
“It was. But see, I’m hopin
Mike's Backstory: Part 2A month has passed since I was diagnosed with MPD, since then, I have discovered two other personalities. There’s Vito, He appears whenever I take off my shirt and is the hardest to keep in check. So mum brought me a swim shirt to wear during lessons. He is tough, scrappy and flirtatious with the girls. Like my other new one, Manitoba Smith, although he can also be quite sexist at times and has a thirst for adventure. He also possesses a distinctive Australian accent, and is triggered whenever I put on a fedora. I found that out when mum brought me one for my birthday.
S`vetlana is actually quite useful and I use her to my advantage. I’ve won, well, she’s won, quite a lot of gymnastic awards and is the reason I’m as fit as I am now. I even have abs, not that I really care.
Chester is just…. A pain.
I am in my second year of high-school and even though I haven’t told anyone about my disorder, I have basically next to no--- well…. I don’t
Mike's Backstory: Part 1MIKE’S BACK STORY:
HIS LIFE BEFORE TOTAL DRAMA
An eerie calmness filled the room, slowly enveloping the silence and corrupting the shadows. The fire crackled with a solemn voice and a small tuft of ash rose from the furnace, giving the walls a dull, earthy look. The flames rose high and danced upon the air slightly illuminating a dishevelled figure.
A woman hunched over a phone, twirling the cord between her fingers nervously as if to avoid letting her heart shatter. Her dark hair sprawled unevenly across her face, untidy and knotted. Her current nervousness turned to anger and she belted her thoughts into the phone before slamming it down onto the desk where she seemed to spend her life. She sat back against the chair, an irritated sigh escaping her. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone?
The phone buzzed again. She glared at it with darkness in her eyes. She picked it up and put it to her ear, but stayed silent. The voice on the other end had been calling her for weeks a
ATWC's Final Fantasy VII part 1Prologue: The Rosary
“I know there are an infinite number of universes out there. Some similar to ours while others are completely different. But what would happen if someone was brought to a different universe is something I have always wondered…”
It was midnight in the city of Paris as most of the citizens were asleep. However, it was a different story for someone else.
Outside a mansion, three figures were on the roof tops, two of them jumping onto other while the third appeared to be floating for a bit before landing.
Moments later, one of the figures was climbing down a rope to the lower level of the mansion. The figure jumped down to a dim light, reveling to male grey raccoon wearing a black eye mask, a blue hat, blue gloves with golden bands around them, a golden belt with a blue raccoon symbol on it, and blue shoes with a golden hook cane in his hands. This was Sly Cooper, a raccoon from a long line of master thieves.
He glanced around the area
How to Name Your Character (Divergent)When you name your characters, you should focus mostly on the faction they are born into, not the faction they choose.
Amity names are usually soft, peaceful. You could use names like Sofie, Andy, Luna, Paul.
Erudite names are usually very matter-of-fact. Names like (yes, I'm stealing from the book) Fernando, Cara, Wilson, and Agatha would do just fine.
Abnegation usually use names that say "Don't look at me" Names that don't really bring attention. No flashy, different names really. Names like Jack, Alyssa, Tyler, and Caitynn. ('Cause that's how you spell Caitlynn. Good spelling gurl.)
Dauntless have very extravagant names. Like from the book, Uriah, Marlene, Lynn. Names like that. Heather, CJ, Yasmine, Rori
I believe Candor should be able to use any names they would like, they are Candor. They value honesty, so they should be honest with their children's names by using what they would like.
Mike's Backstory: Part 6I stared in shock. Mal had appeared in the sub-conscious. He was holding his shoulder tight and his eyes were squeezed shut. I tugged on my chain mercilessly. I swear, if he came close enough to me, I would kill him for what he did.
Mal stood and looked around, dazed and expressionless. That feeling didn’t last long however. He snapped back into reality as quick as he lost it. The malicious teen grinned in satisfaction and he walked by us all, his hands cupped together.
“Well, well, well.” He stopped at my boulder and I shot him a ravenous glare. How dare he talk to me… He had no right!
“It looks like you have all been reduced to this state due to my appearance. Oh, it makes me feel so powerful compared to you.”
He kneeled next to me. I never wanted to talk to that criminal, but there was a question bugging me and I had to get it out.
“Why are you here?”
He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Got shot and knocked myself out.” His sp
Mike's Backstory: Part 4I awoke in my sub-conscious, alone and scared. The silence was unsettling. I attempted to walk, but some force was preventing my body from moving. I turned, a gasp escaping from me. I was chained… to a boulder… unable to leave. I looked around me. There were four other boulders, all with a chain… that wasn’t empty.
S`vetlana looked at me, tears in her eyes. She attempted to speak, but Manitoba motioned for her to stay quiet. He walked about a metre forward, just before the chain pulled him back. He knew my question and he adjusted the fedora on his head, not losing his serious expression.
“The Malevolent one…” He forced his gaze to Vito, who was shocked into silence. A rare moment of quiet for his normally exuberant, egotistical personality. Vito stared at the treasure hunter with uncertainty.
He paused, pushing his gelled hair back out of his eyes. His sudden fear turned to anger and he screamed at me, eyes flaming
StorytellerI wish I could collect people's stories
and put them into a book.
You know, the stories people tell their friends
at the lunch table
before and after school
minus the more personal stuff, of course
and the mean comments are out too-
but all of that-
all of the stories, I mean-
I wish to share with the world in a book.
I want to tell the stories
that people tell their friends and family
about their days
I want to hear the colors
see the words
taste the pain and joy
that others experience in their stories.
I wish to tell people's stories
in a book for you and I to read
so that we could share our stories
with each other
one of these days.
Un roti de Cupidon"Patron.. je suis pas sûr que ça soit une si bonne idée..."
Un bruissement d'ailes presque froufroutant sur sa gauche le fit se retourner d'un bond, mais il ne put percevoir qu'un bref mouvement du coin de l'oeil. Ils étaient rapides, bien trop rapides. Jamais le vieux ne réussirait. De nouveau ce bruit soyeux, semblable à des ailes de tourterelles, mais bien plus proche. Dans son esprit il pouvait les voir, tournant au dessus de sa tête comme autant de vautours prêts à la curée.
Le bruit assourdi des détonations résonna et tout autour d'Emmanuel une pluie de plumes commença à virevolter tandis que cinq bruits sourds accompagnaient la chute d'autant de corps autour de lui.
"Ramasse les, petit. On a encore du boulot."
Avec une grimace mi admirative, mi dégoûtée, le jeune homme se mit au travail, enfilant des lourds gants de cuir pour se protéger. Son sup
You're Not A PoetYou’re not a poet because of strung words
Together on row upon row again
Of blank verse or perhaps liberal rhyme.
‘Slam’ all you want, other poets wonder;
Your ignorance of couplets a blunder?
Yes! I speak harshly, but it’s no gross crime,
To point with honesty failed verse of thine.
No real poet discards upper case words;
Lets prose crawl on paper like listless worms.
You seek to free verse of those stern letters,
Sever away bleak capital fetters,
But it doesn’t sing of great speech sublime,
Rather, it sneaks of writing in spare time.
Wait! before you throw me in the icy Rhine;
It’s hard to put verse together in rhyme,
To make our dull words sound great all the time,
Hear them ring out loud, like a clear clock’s chime,
Heralding a poet’s summer prime.
Yet the sacred muses weep at your crime;
Your pentameter mangled thick like slime,
The subject not gilded in raiment fine;
Your bold ink font, crystal waters divine
Tastes bitter to the ton
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More