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The Optimistic PessimistPart 1: Who Am I?
What’s the point in asking me that question? What’s the point in you reading this? What’s the point in anything? It’s more convenient to look towards the inevitable, the bleak nothingness that will rain over this reality turning it all into a cacophony of scattered lost thoughts, ideas, transactions, discussions and realities. Dust even. Sentences flattened and lack of expression. Light extinguished. Colors will again be only forgotten fragments as vision disappears. For there will not even be a tool capable of even remembering again.
Why is that evil? The antagonist? Maybe the end is the true home. The only hero. The only thing that cares. Maybe we should be careful of what we care for.
Part 2: Who are you?
You read this quite confident in your wisdom that this depth of the thought will surface or find its way to more shallow thoughts, less mystical, more pragmatic. Maybe
Let's Hope Now and Pray LaterI entered an abyss but only saw
Not falling but rather starting over,
The cold wasn't chilling
and the worries unwilling
While I lay defeated
staring at a black ceiling
I saw every shade
and only saw the beginning,
I entered the edge of my existence,
didn't want it to end
and when it did
I realized that I was
and all I saw was the possibilties
all over again
a virgin again
a sophomore again
making every silly little mistake
in front of another horizon
and it occurred to me
that I was at the end
of my journey
and the horizon
still waves hello
as if I'd never
embarked on anything.
Too Late I GuessHer shadows bend,
Or is it just my head crashing to the floor?
I'd tell you how you turn a straight line
in an intersection of infinite possibilities
I could tell you how your hair makes me forget
about my impending doom and feel like a
flower that blooms and never wilts,
Like how water carves a mountain into a crystal glacier.
I'd could say how your voice
is felt by every pore that is touched by your breath
or how my forehead melts
away all my hidden tells.
I'd say I love you if love had any meaning
But I'd rather dance my way
to the madness farm
and plant myself
so far away
as you pull at me
as if now could never
come to pass
could never be lost.
This Celophane RiverWhen you've eaten a wormhole,
Your stomach becomes a black hole,
Time utterly useless as you are
spinning into the whirlpool river
flowing into and out of consciousness
Into the room
next to the grim reaper
next to the realization
that all that you are is
why you are nothing.
That which you love is
merely that which you
choose to create.
That what you feel
is but a path to your
That which you claim to be
is but why your purpose
has always been
That which you deny
is all that you've become
That which you fear
is all that you must
The VentNever really thought about where I am
Or how I came to be
I do subscribe to you and
all that is written on your face
And how you hold yourself together
when I'm like ashes sprinkled
about a desert wind sky
Like a kite,
You hold me close
Even when I am far away
Like a switch
I turn off the lights
and imagine you right next to me
A Touch of Failure (A Culinary Experimentation)Add to the blender a touch of humility
Sprinkle in some doubt with a pinch of bitterness
Shake well until sorrow drops to the bottom
Add 1 cup of filthy longing
Two tablespoons of lucidity
Then tear out her eye contact
and mix it with the sweat
trickling off your forehead.
Blend thoroughly and place
on a square plate
about 8 inches round
Fundamentally place on
a torn bible page.
Spin around 6 times or
as you possibly can
Because it will be the only chance
you have in the failure that
you have created.
Dear Maria, I am SorryDear Maria,
I thought you'd be happy to hear
What you read and how it sounds
coming out of your ear
I barely knew you and you never
knew me at all.
However small this tall mispereception,
Walls of fear that bordered you from me
Was there ever a chance when
You and I are nothing more than
Zero's and one's?
We were programmed to come into contact.
And the organic entertainment surrounding
Us was but a distraction
a reaction to my own inactions.
I apologize for never giving you a chance.
Now that I think about it, as you continued
south past Copenhagen Central Station.
I was the one who rejected you
By letting you get away from me.
12:30PM on a SaturdayI stood atop a ridge,
Dead hay golden hills vulnerable
To an overcast and cold unappreciative wind.
I placed my guitar next
to stripped black trees, branches
dripping, crying profusely
a subterranian weather system
amid the foggy backdrop.
I walked up and back saddened
by the beauty and all its splendor.
How the trees waved and danced before the sky.
It occurred to me that I was in heaven
and that heaven was nothing more than
every facet of life being relived, retold
endlessly until it became perfect only
to come to the realization that perfection
The nightmare occurred to me that
this perpetuity would never resolve
ever. and life would only improve
with each retake and restart.
All combinations revisited over and over.
Every execution, every momentous discovery,
every painful death, every emotion, every
moment of eternal ectasy.
My counterpart assured me that all that I loved
was nothing more than my own ego and that not letting
it go was nothing more tha
EpitaphYou're the smile
that stands out in front of a million
You're the star on a map
in the middle of a thousand places
and the curl in the cloud that
makes the blue depths deeper.
You're the howl in the wind
that signals the shift in direction
And your the memory that erases
the remaining of all my other significant reflections.
You turn upside down into right side up
Make the ending to any twist that
much more colorful.
You're the reason the bang was that big
and the reason why I am sat in corner
lost staring into my impending death.
You're the epitaph that no one opted to
write on my grave stone.
For no tombstone would have the space
to phrase what you meant to me.
100mg of nature.the clouds are lost today,
like unsung lullabies
stuck in the throat of a strangled sky.
the flowers levitate today,
their tissue paper wings
pink sertraline dreams that the bees cannot sting.
the trees bob their heads today,
like tired old men
falling asleep in church, disillusioned again.
the white thistles are stuck today,
entrapped by their names.
hissing popcorn on stilts, or rupturing brains.
the sun mottles the grass today,
in psoriasis patches,
like liver spots on ivy in the window sashes.
the wind kisses sick patients today,
tucking them in,
and then flees in a rustling dress while she sings.
Kidnapped Eevee! What do you do!?You were walking through the woods minding your own business until you heard some muffled cries. You were curious about the sound and followed it. You came to an abandoned warehouse and went in and saw two figure’s. One of them was a male Gurdurr and the other was a female Eevee tied up.
You went to hide behind some crates and listened closely to what the Gurdurr said. He said something about getting excited to sell her as a sex slave, but the Eevee didn’t like the idea and cried inside of the ball-gag.
He went out of the warehouse and was there for some long minutes. You felt sad for her and you…
A: Untie the Eevee and let her free.
B: Take her as a slave.
C: Take her as a pet.
D: Submit to the Gurdurr.
E: Teach the Gurdurr a lesson.
F: Leave like nothing happened.
G: Anything else you want.
Plunder straggly timber
above frosty mists
implore the heavens
PremonitionsBehold as the sky
Cries its tears,
Shatter like glass
Against cold &
As every spite
Of thunder sounds,
Blinding with the
Shocks of lightning.
Behold the scene,
For tonight's sky
Is our future.
FallAs the leaves turn
So too do the pages of a new chapter
A blank book
Or perhaps a page with some notes on it
When the leaves fall
They are not ending
They are beginning
They are pausing for a second, a minute
Maybe you should, too
Maybe you look at the trees
Because maybe there is a little bit of hope
Left to be had in this world
Or maybe you look at the trees
Because maybe everybody comments
On how beautiful they are
And nobody comments
On how beautiful you are
But you are beautiful
And so are they
And so are we
And so is this
And maybe you have to wait
A few more seasons
Maybe today isn’t your day
But one day you will be able to
Let yourself go
AutumnReds and Golds;
there are pumpkins everywhere.
fall off the golden trees.
The smell of rain;
fills the air.
Frost covers the land,
leaving behind a crystal wonderland.
In the pumpkin fields,
getting lost in the corn maze.
for Trick or Treaters.
to the rain drops,
patter on the roof top.
While the smell,
fill the room.
It is autumn,
and soon winter will come.
Prayer of the Peaceful oneQuiet contemplation.
See with closed eyes,
But with opened mind.
Cold wind and rain,
Whisper in my ear.
Meditation of soul...
Give me stillness of heart,
Grant me calming sublimity,
And oneness with the earth.
SerenitySit below, down upon the great green rock
And watch, as the water tumbles soars down
High from the mountains above
Gaze at how it disappears, in the starry sunset
And how the trees dance, with the golden wind
And I sit, there at the edge of the river
I wonder, what it would be like to exist
There, at the top, close to heaven
Would there ever be true peace, that high up there?
In the end, I prefer to sit here
Next to the river, because, here and now
It is just so much more peaceful.
As I opened my eyes, the only thing I saw was the sky. With its azure-colored background, fluffy clouds were splashed all over, the sky looked as if it was in a good mood. Sailing through them were a flock of birds, spreading their wings as if they were a kite. The gentle winds blew the leaves of the trees, making them dance in excitement. As I looked at the dark-blue lake beneath the hill, swans were seen, peacefully floating on the waters like buoys on the seas. Alongside them were their offspring, clinging together as close as possible like a thread in a cloth.
As I turned to my right, I saw field, filled with grass and trees. The scenery was like a painting of a masterpiece that was made once in blue moon. The plains the filled with children, playing tag, not realizing that they could play something much more fun. Right beside me were my siblings, sleeping soundly, locked away in dreamland.
As I stood up, I realized that this
Negative ParticlesHeaven upside down
How cool bliss flakes
shiver into rotting coal
wrapped, intertwined in a coil,
withered a storm and flicker,
land and become tar and feathered
to know that every story
shines, flows, and rusts
to trust this injustice
is to appreciate the lair
the only direction to which anything
can at all--> fall
Life is but a DreamWe are just unnourished frail bodies,
overfed with white lies and short-lived-euphorias.
Books filled with black letters,
etching lurid images into our utmost dreams.
Veering us from the big picture...
the one we fail to paint ourselves.
Our fists much too busy with fights,
that we are bound to lose.
Too occupied in line waiting,
for creativity to be let loose like a stray dog.
As if we will find home in this pursuit of happiness...
but we only enclose each other in small rooms
with nothing but old laptops.
How many times I've guessed which letter could it be...
Which letter could it be?
To free us from havoc-stricken-thoughts?
They come and go, unending like 24 hour subway stations.
There's no break for this lonely man,
heaving every breathe of stale air
into my overused lungs...
Living in confined walls of flesh
held up with brittle paper-mache bones.
Which day is it that I will burst out from this cage of a life?
And hover with the Gods found in carefully binded bo
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More