The Places You Found LoveEveryone is biologically programmed to find babies cute. It's an evolutionary imperative, because the rational thing to do when you've got a screaming, shitting dependant taking up your food, is to kill it, and we need something to stop us doing that. It's also why people are generally attracted to big eyes and smooth skin - because they're characteristics of children.And I'm not saying this to detract from the beauty of parenthood, or to make you sad, I'm saying it to point out that this fact doesn't make a baby's laugh any less wonderful. And I don't think the source of anything can make it less so.This is why I can point out that any form of love isn't God or fate or destiny, it's that if two people have a strong emotional attachment, their children are more likely to survive.Atomic bombs are beautiful.So I will say that the me I am now, will and always has been feeling what I feel, but that sentence doesn't even make sense until we consider that time is just another spacial dim
The Reasons We DieWhat I meant to say was that sometimes I just stare at the cigarette in my hands and beg for it to stop messing around and just kill me already.But I figured you don't want to hear that.
The Shifting Nature of RealityYou asked me, "In these dreams, what does it look like?" I told you it looks different every time. Sometimes it's like a million feathers falling, sometimes it's like snow, sometimes it's like little stones, sometimes like ash, sometimes like a fine sand blowing across the hills. It's always silent. It falls around me but it never touches me. It never sticks. I told you sometimes I see dim figures walking in the distance through all the falling white. I told you I wish one would turn around and come to me. I wish one had your face. I wish the pink of your cheeks and blue of your eyes would appear to me unveiled from out of the drift. But the sad small figures don't turn around. They walk on, shoulders low, and disappear. I just watch them. You said, "I'm here now," and touched my hand. "I'm here now."
The Overuse of MetaphoresYou smile like it's an accident that comes without an apology.
The Time Gone ByTick tock. All day. Every day is tick tocking by. There is no clock in your office that ticks or tocks, but you can hear the tick tock in your head. Tick. That's another second of your life gone, you think. Tock. That's one more second waiting for the man to tell you what to do. Tick. I'm a thinker, you think. Tock. Time to be a doer. Tick. You walk into your boss' office. Tock. I quit.The clock stops.
The NuancePlay it one more time please, I need to hear it again. I need to make sure that its the only sound in my head. Play it again for me, I want to hear it once more. I want to make sure the only sound is correct. I don't want to hear that stare again. I don't want to see those words. I'll play the part again, I need to play it again. I need to make sure that every note is right. Give me a second to rehearse that part once more, I haven't been playing it right this entire time. I know it might sound right to you, but it doesn't sound right to me. I can't hear those words anymore. I never want to see that stare again. I have to keep playing. I never want to hear that again.
The Silence Goes On For YearsIn case of emergency, break glass. Throw plates. Cave to the insecurities you've harbored all along. Scream. Curse. Panic. Accuse her of never loving you, even though you know she did and still does. Tell her you never loved her. Tell yourself. Feel the world crumbling around you. Rip the rest of it down. Ignore her pleas. Her tears. Your regrets. Watch yourself leave, unable to stop your own feet. Slam the door. Keep walking. Realize, too late, that you didn't mean it.
The Art of Finding FlawsMaybe that's all it means, to grow up; to watch your heroes become human, right before your eyes.
the Millennia LaterDesolation has its own stark beauty. It's in the limbs of dead trees twisting up, pleading at the grey sky. It's in the air, cold with a faint hint of smoke and the barest breeze that stirs up the dust at your feet. The white-grey ash falls like snowflakes, dusting your hair, your coat, your mask. You catch one of the flakes and it crumbles between your gloved fingers. The ground is packed as hard as concrete under your boots as you turn your back on this cold, still world. You look up; the moon is barely visible. You will carry that memory with you as you go back underground. Mankind no longer has use for the stars.
The Ultimate RiddleSuppose that one day, for some very solid and totally legitimate reasons, you have to chop another man's head off with an axe.But during the follow-through swing, the wooden axe handle snaps in two. So you go to the hardware store to replace the wooden handle, explaining away the bloodstains on your shirt as barbecue sauce.The next day you are working in your garage when you're attacked by an animal that looks like a cross between a badger and an anaconda. A badgerconda.Anyway, you kill the animal with the axe, but in the killing blow the axe head hits the concrete floor and shatters. So you go to the hardware store and replace the axe head.The day after that you're in your garage again when the man whose head you cut off appears as a reanimated zombie. You raise your trusty axe to defend yourself, and the zombie man points to it and says "That's the axe that killed me!"...Is he right?
Art is Hope.Art is a voice. A powerful, beautiful voice in which the souls of people can soar in perfect melodic expression. Just as the universe is chaos orchestrated into a perfect tune of balance, we can use Art to transform the greatest threats of destruction into harmony. Perhaps Art is the only hope we have left.Art can be found in everything. Our planet itself an artistic creation so beautiful.. Nature, the stars, our anatomy and the miracle of producing life. It is through Art that the beauty of mankind is realized. Music, paintings, sculptures and all bear testimony to the great things we are capable of as human beings. Art is our light in a world soaked in the blood of our darkness.With one breath taken in awe of nature and another suffocated with the horror of suffering, I find inspiration in those that are inspired; despite how dark and sad this world truly is. And in the heart of the poet that still loves even though it is broken.Like the rays of the sun, Art can reach out and touc
Entropy-Chances-ProbabilitiesEntropy, chances and probabilitiesBy Rey Torres - L3V17eWhen one speaks of probabilities in systems, there is always a chance that entropy may be decreased momentarily. However, when one looks at the universe, based on probabilities and based on its "size," although the law of chance and uncertainty are plausible scientific considerations, it is extremely "unlikely" that entropy may be decreased and have a result of chance, springing life into existence. Taking into account the size of systems one may use a pool table as an example. If we were to observe a movie of a pool table "break" shot which results in the disorganization of the initial state, we can understand what implications the universe size presents to the humanistic evolutionary theory. The ordered arrangement of balls becomes disordered, but running the film in reverse would show each individual collision obeying the usual physical laws (this is not rocket science). The time reversal or red
new BornWe start dying, The moment...We were Born...
And Now For The Fight Scene (Part 1)And Now For The Fight SceneIn this series of posts, I’ll be tackling some of the things that I consider when I’m putting together a fight scene. This is a topic that I’ve already addressed to some extent. However, my earlier efforts to convey my thoughts were somewhat lacklustre, so I’ve decided to try again. That said, I will be drawing upon my earlier efforts although there will also be a lot of restructuring and new material.Fight scenes are some of the most rewarding and exciting scenes to write. There’s nothing quite like a good sword fight, and there’s a certain thrill to watching two gunslingers stare each other down. But fight scenes can also be extremely frustrating to write. There are few things worse than watching the beautiful fight scene that you’ve got planned in your head turn into a total mess when you try to get it onto paper. Bullet ballets can, quite easily, turn into bullet nightmares. And a battle between two maste
What Is Emptiness?The following exchange of comment and replies occurred on iLonewolf's Profile page. Minor changes were made. Permission was given by iLonewolf to submit this deviation._____WhatIsEmptiness Feb 15, 2015 | New memberDear friend, here's a thank you (a bit overdue) for welcoming me to your deviantWATCH list. Love <3_____iLonewolf Feb 15, 2015 | WriterYou're very welcome.One day you'll have to explain what Emptiness means to you._____WhatIsEmptiness E
And Tonight My Prayer Was XIIIAnd tonight my prayer was:You once asked me: "Why do you look to the ground when you walk?""So I can see where I am treading." I said. "Why do you look to the sky?" I, equally bemused.With a smile you reply "So I can see where I'm going."Amen.