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Thought Dump #1I.
Could you prepare something,
that people normally eat for once?
Well we normally eat this stuff you know.
That is not what I meant.
never mind, false alarm.
I thought it was the---
I'm not sleeping in the tent this time.
My back has gotten all these weird pits and sores.
Don't sleep on the bones then.
Bones? you guys actually had bones put in there? I'm impressed.
What on mother rock do you mean?
the amount of detail for the camouflage....
y'know the elephant disguise!
Many people died in the process of acquiring the tents
by the time we managed to slay the elephan----
THESE ARE REAL?!!?!
That's it. Not sleeping in there again.
Don't worry the couple you met earlier rented it out.
You're too young to ask that question
I am not too young! We are the same age,
hell the same pers---
But someone has to save your innocence.
They'll only accept a pure mind.
Who says t
An Untrained Touch
An Untrained Touch
My fingertips take a spill,
covering your body, in your pockets they congeal
trace with pressure, I watch the blood resurface
daintily dangerous, and at the same time worth it
My fingertips take a pinch,
a rosy aftermath, almost similar to a singe
the color of your lips, now stand adjacent
subtly your body gives way, without misstatement
My fingertips take a break,
now I hold a firm grip, no longer I rake
palmed, static, to try and catch your heart
beats from beneath our chests tearing us apart
My palms break a sweat,
it's amateur hour, and I accompany a vet
this is not your first, and likely not your best
what makes it all worse, your rhythm remains at rest
My palms pinch a nerve,
myself stolen from movement, without a healthy urge
progressing sullenly, dare to seem brash
once was a thriving ember, now a single ash
My palms spill a way,
for me to get away, these goods are too used to pay
honesty's approach to life is something of a gem
with callousness it often opens up a void within
where insignificance meets a freezing desperation
a vacuum's symphony to a sophist generation
the primrose path powered by our decadence
said to have a cost but I laugh at the malevolence
rather us a hostage and convinced it's all a test
a coincidence is only miraculous if it's blessed
which leaves me at a standstill unable to contend
cause questions are a blemish and will lead to your descent
victim to the fear of death for it transcends existence
a guiltless trend to apprehend the lost and often witless
the extraordinary ability to comprehend
the ordinariness of which we are all condemned
the truth never hurts, not even on occasion
and if you're filled with lies, then this is your abrasion
Landmines and sexy slow jams
Landmines and SEXY slow jams
before or behind its time, existing in the present
it solemnly dances alone, the dance of death
hoarder of work unfinished, merely abandoned
unable to create whilst pleasing its audience
passion-stripped, with befuddled concentration
stripped of soul, left with phlegmatic impressions
unmoved with calm disregard for moral decency
no longer good or bad, knowing there only is
gripping the poison, with generous sips
creates an illusion of increased social ability
sensory synesthesia, juggles his taste and feel
a euphoria of stimulation, aided by incompetence
its moves first intricate, holding awareness
its moves now indolent, losing its steps
of the landmines that lay in wait for weight
a single one lies adjacent to the soles of his feet
time is the enemy, as is the sexy song's progression
one off beat slip and he will leave this cage forever
passing and existing only through the mouths of men
whispering amongst prodigally enslav
clash of polar opposites creates the balance
destructive construction that'll exude natural talents
the blind advantage give faint smiles fat pockets
to shelve creative freedom in return for profits
the exposure you hungered for is now in abundance
only problem is your forced to expose a lie to the public
the truth riddled and hidden behind tongues fencing
past identities too distant for memories to mention
only weathered grunts heard behind the media muzzle
to find artistic value is like fixing a broken puzzle
of a thousand pieces stretched across the holy nations
streets paved with gold only the peasant's anticipation
because they know not the masked burden of success
the hindrance mandated to please the general press
to be embraced with acceptance but only just to crawl
never fly and only allowed to stand if you're not that tall
forget your dreams and higher callings you face a decision
bend your image for the master or fly with the pigeons
two universes -
John-a-Dreams dreams endlessly in a dead dimension
remorseless to the time wasted on baseless perplexing
the subconscious universe expands to greater planes
of contrived existence unaware of physical disdains
when he awakes, he finds he's lost track of the world
it has heard nothing from him except thoughts purled
a burning wish to supply both with equal attention
but his conjured creation justifies his own pension
it outweighs himself that exists realistically instead
so long he has been invisible, its best to believe him dead
dead to the world because he fancies more the dreams
where he can wine and dine anything that he fiends
he cannot deny it, he would rather live vicariously
instead of handling his universes simultaneously
TraitorYou are a traitor,
Vile and a hater,
Who had my trust
Now crushed to dust!
What is your motive,
What did I not give,
To secure our bond?
Was I the one conned?
Well I really think
That YOU broke our link.
In the end YOU lied,
Cast our ties aside!
I offered up my all,
Was behind your every fall,
You mostly did the same,
But it was just a sick game!
You are the traitor,
The vile hater.
I’m no longer serving,
Ditch someone deserving!
ApocalypseThe gloves are off,
the tribal flags unfurled.
No matter the cost,
as each invective hurled,
no matter sanity,
or if it helps or hurts,
win at any cost,
each meme that spurts
a tick on the score card.
How easy it was
to bring us to this place -
God? Satan? not really.
This catastrophe wears
a human face.
untainted and pure
white as snow
can they endure
turning to grey
whatever you say
I don't think pure
is the word anymore
tainted and grey
turning to black
this is the price you pay
for the life you live
covered in sin
the dark ground
hiding and waiting
can't hear a sound
my senses have left me
darker than coal
tainted and dirty
evil and bad
before I'm thirty
50 DaysOn the first day she was blinded by the light
On the second day she put up a fight
On the third day she learned how to love
On the fourth day a hand she took hold of
On the fifth day she did nothing at all
On the sixth day she learned how to crawl
On the seventh day to school she went
On the eighth day she fell to the cement
On the ninth day her baby clothes she outgrew
On the tenth day let go of your hand too
On the eleventh day she got sick
On the twelfth day she learned a card trick
On the thirteenth day she looked more like her mother
On the fourteenth day she made friends with others
On the fifteenth day you got her a phone
On the sixteenth day you left her home alone
On the seventh day she graduated school
On the eighteenth day she learned the world was cruel
On the nineteenth she felt so alone
On the twentieth day she just wanted to go home
On the twenty-first day she began to cry
On the twenty-second day he wanted to die
On the twenty-third day she pulled through
On the twenty-
ParanoiaIn your time,
terrible things may happen
which to your life
cause untold destruction.
These horrific events
will put you through hell,
but you can get back up
and live your life well.
Or can you?
Perhaps those events
linger on in your head
and you feel
a permanent sense of dread
and every action
that ever will occur
you fear will destroy
your life forever.
Or will it?
Eventually, you don't know
what to think anymore.
You don't know if that's your spouse
or a lying, cheating whore.
You embrace the thought
that all that is around you
and is out to get you.
Or is it?
AddictIs that a challenge?
No really, I want to know,
I'm addicted to struggle and harsh words fill my syringe,
I dope up and then I'm ready to go,
Lost in a daze of hallucinations that won't stay, so I binge,
Praying this insanity never lets me go.
Is that a challenge?
I could quit any time I want,
but quitters never win and I'm winning everything,
Though I may lack the sophistication other junkies flaunt,
I am just as unpredictable as the real thing,
So I dare you, I double dare you to give me a taunt.
Worldly Ways, Worldly WoesWorldly Ways, Worldly Woes
Go forth, my son, into our world.
Know its ways and means
Keep your wit and mind alert
Keep your heart clean
Watch everything and every man
Decide to part or follow
Stay awake and await the chance
You'll know both joy and sorrow
So I went to university
I got my degree and went abroad
I hoped that life abroad would make me free
Indeed it should
But though i am free I feel regret
For the thought of freedom remains unlike between men
Some think that it gives them right
To interfere with others' rights
That primes them for a fight
And in the end
It gives me blues in the night
Beautiful DemonAs we approach the end of the season,
I fail to understand the reason,
of why such a beautiful demon,
would renounce his precious freedom.
Waiting at the top of the hill,
i asked the demon "Why are you standing still?",
and slowly turning his eyes, a bit black, a bit red,
he told that he was already dead,
but his tears were only of joy:
for him, time could no longer destroy.
as my remaining adolescence divorces it's host
and my teen angst hooks up with sterility
I feel grounds for my future raising a toast
to all my dreams and fancies that'll never be
there's little time left for all these idle pleasures
and it's too late for me to design a better plan
I'm tying the knot to my noose with my own endeavors
and my procrastination is kicking the stand
I feel hatred for the people that led me astray
but at the same time I'm angry with myself
I know there's plenty more that feel the same way
open your eyes before you end up getting shelved
while the almighty ra continues to kiss the carrion
for more souls to follow a bitter lost passion
I hope they wake up to the heavy load they're carrying
and pick better goals that'll led a life without ration
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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