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Good to Be BadIt was like watching a movie.
A movie in which the film was tainted yellow and stained with age. The sheets along the reel,
burnt along the edges and flickering in and out of function, just enough for the picture to make sense.
A woman was the subject. This woman who was young and spry and loved nothing more than a good time.
She was a socialite, if you were being polite. Each party she hosted in her deceased mother's home was like wildfire, people pouring out of the doors and windows. They would shriek and shout and laugh and hoot on and on until the very crack of dawn. This woman loved every second, indulging herself carelessly in sex, drugs and bottle after bottle of spirits without even thinking.
She became very well known for her recklessness.
Everyone knew her, but she had no friends, no spouse, or any children of her own.
Her mother was the last ray of companionship, but even then, the woman was too wrapped up in her social life to grieve the loss.
One fateful night, as music bl
“For the six millionth time, yes. I am blind.”
“If blind, why wear glasses?” A French brunette sat against the hips of a pink headed boy who had made himself comfortable sitting cross-legged on the floor. She gingerly pushed said glasses up farther on the boy’s nose.
“I don’t know, Patrice, would you like everyone treating you like a cripple?” Ender said gruffly, placing down his book. He wrapped his arms round her waist as she wound her legs round his.
Patrice chose to ignore his question and produce another of her own.
“If blind, how can read?”
“I just can.”
“You stupid, you cannot read. You lie.” Patrice-Jacques said, frustrated. “Is impossible.”
“I can take off my own head. I can read if I want to.” Ender grumbled. “What’s it to you?”
“You read to ignore me,” stated the French girl simply. “You read to ign
Jerk AlertThe trees that surrounded the House were dull and lifeless. Grey and brown leaves littered and blew across the dead grass. It was around the end of Autumn and nothing was going on. None of the Oddjects seemed to have any energy to do anything. Not even Hayley, who was basically energy itself.
Rain puttered against the windowpane. It was sound, steady and sleepy enough to lull anyone into deep dreams of lazy gray days.
No one bothered to talk, no one bothered to go outside.
Tony sat at the table with a newspaper and a cup of steaming tea. He glanced across the table to Hayley, who was playing Angry Birds on her palm in her immense boredom.
The puppets had chosen to go camping, leaving all Oddjects with nothing to kill, and nothing to satisfy their testy tempers.
"This is really boring," muttered Hayley in a tone that would make Harry proud.
Ender glanced up from where he stood reading in the kitchen by the warm furnace outlet.
Tony huffed and set down his teacup. "No, I ag
Even in the Storm, Leave the Light On"But it's a quarter to..!!"
"I DON'T CARE!!" shrieked an angry lamp Oddject. "I don't CARE what time it is!"
"How can you not care about the time?!" The blue clock man screeched.
"I'll tell you somethin' pal!" spat Liam, "The sun tells me what time it is! The sun has told time since before it even began!!"
Tony opened his mouth to blurt a comeback, but nothing was coming out.
"I'm right aren't I?!" He sneered, "You know I'm right! I don't need your bloody clocks and wristwatches! I know damn well what the time is!"
Tony's left eye twitched.
"Fine, fine! Whatever! You're right! Now go away!" He waved his gloved hand dismissively.
"I will!" Liam shouted and stormed outside, slamming the door so hard, the house rattled.
Perched outside on the front stoop, Francine reclined lazily against the threshold. Her eyes had been shut in a light nap, but they snapped open when she felt the tremor caused by Liam's door-slamming rage.
She sat herself up when he stalked onto the porch.
Liam pulled a s
Consequences of Our Actions"It's a horrible process, a horrible experience, and more often than not, a horrible outcome."
Was that a lie?
It very well could've been.
After what happened with her?
He didn't even want to think about trying it on anyone else.
All he remembered was the white hot flash of pain, the shriek and the promise.
The promise to never do it ever again.
"Memories make you into who you are. If you lose yours, you'll change. I don't want you to change, you're my friend. You're perfect as you are."
He was too afraid to admit that to himself at the time. He was a coward. Burned an empty hole into her mind, just to save his own skin.
A horrible process.
He remembered how she paled and cried and begged for him not to. She wept and wailed and told him over and over she'd stay quiet.
Oh, how it hurt him to see her that way.
But he couldn't bear it.
The whites in her eyes turned towards him as it he and all their talks and jokes and arguments faded away from her memor
Just Relaxa boy was crying at his desk.
A tall man with narrow shoulders loomed over him like a shadow
"FIX IT." he bellowed, jamming a finger to the boy's head.
"I'm t-trying...!!" he whispered through his tears.
"You call that FIXING?! You're making it worse!"
"You pathetic excuse for a child!"
The man raised a hand to strike the boy.
Ender jolted awake with a sharp breath. He sat up in bed so violently, he nearly tumbled out of the sheets. Beads of cold sweat trickled down his temples and the back of his neck.
His room was dead silent. The only thing to be heard was his heart hammering against his chest. His breaths were shaking and shallow.
What a nightmare...
Ender thought he'd pushed those memories out.
But no, his subconscious had brought them back to the surface.
The eraser curled up into a ball, his head between his knees. He gripped his hair as his shoulders still jerked with trembles.
After a moment, he relaxed and slowly pushed his legs over th
How to be Populardon’t talk
go to parties
listen to friends
go with the flow
drink some more
don’t let them see the tears
as you cry yourself to sleep
for the most important thing
is to be popular
fall in love with (splitting hairline fractures)we swallow blues instead
of talking them out. oh,
kids like us are specters,
spectacles: boys counting
rib(cage)s & (de)composing
don't you hate
is a vessel
we're deities or tomb-raiders; no
in-betweens for writers these days
Dark SideThere's another side of me
A side I barely show
It's my dark side
And my pride
The time I showed it to my friends
They were shocked, worried
I will tell you what they said
Decide for me
If these are what you call
One said 'just be happy'
One said 'that isn't true!'
One said ' but I've got it much worse'
One said 'don't be annoying'
One said nothing at all
Only One listened
That could be you
This is my dark side
The one that tells the truth
It makes me write
It keeps my dreams
It is everything I have
But no one knows
i'm not going to lie and say she was perfect.her skin was spotted with what she passed off as freckles,
but what were really scars from a thousand summer suns
as she ran about outside,
climbing trees and treading rivers,
pretending to be an american bomber
in the midst of WWII.
she kept crimson stains on pearl pink lips,
which always had the habit of getting on her teeth
because she put on make-up after dressing in her car
and ordering coffee in every way she hated it
as she drove to the record store three times a day,
ignoring her job downtown.
she owned four and a half hairbrushes exactly,
i took count on the first night i stepped into that whirl-wind room,
though her lopsided up-dos of messy blonde hair revealed just how much her fingers
never broke the dust.
she had these lovely fragile hands
that showed each and every vein and bone,
the type of hands made for tearing boys like me apart.
how could i have even expected to survive,
a paper poet
held against a reckless flame?
Panic attackIt hits me like a wave,
These thoughts of fear and regret.
They swarm all around me,
Trapping me inside my own head.
Pretty soon, I am suffocating,
Please someone save me!
My heart beat races,
As does the thoughts that pick up the pace.
Of sending me memories I've kept and buried so long inside.
They've come back to haunt me tonight.
And as soon as it came,
It was gone,
Leaving me here.
And what was left of me,
The sound of silenceThe sound of silence,
Is so deafening,
That it makes my ears ring,
With the cacophony of my own insanity.
Being afraid to speakThe unpleasantries of past events
Were driven by the voices of contempt
Leaving me breathless
To that effect, I was left senseless
And when I laid under the covers
As I tried to warm myself from the cold stares
I shiver, as my skin turned white
By the solace of silence
But, as I overcame their sadness
I learned to embrace the cold
Until I was able to give warmth to others
Ideationlocked in a room
with only one escape,
or so it seems.
your hands shake and you drop the key.
Suddenly you're unsure.
Do I want to pick it up?
Do I want to find it?
Do I want to leave?
you think to yourself
there's no other choice.
find the key or corrode, or rust
wear down the hinge
use sadness as the key.
You have the answer now.
Just open the door.
Just walk outside and don't look back.
Let yourself leave with no regrets.
And yet you can't.
You're afraid, you think,
but you are actually strong.
Don't run away.
Don't take that leap.
CallousedDon't let me go,
I'm afraid of the cold,
The games you've played have gotten old,
The words you say have shriveled and wilted,
The world's lost it's axis,
Round, and round, and round, and round,
A pin drops, but no one's around.
The night crashes down,
Like the vase that you threw,
Did you see the glass shatter?
The blood you drew
As I picked up the pieces.
And ran after you.
Your heart is black, but your hands are gold,
Under the gild, there's crackling coal,
Hardened and calloused, like your heartless soul,
How could I have ever dreamed you were someone to hold?
Drenched in my regret,
And my spirit is sold.
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More