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The Places You Found LoveEveryone, but you especially as a woman, 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
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 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.
Imperial PropagandaIn a world where humans think they have all the answers, and believe they have the right to use power against each other, is it any wonder there are so many sad people? I may be a little crazy, but my firm belief is that humans should serve the Kitties. Have any kind of pet you want, and focus on making them happy, and saving them from starving or being abandon. If everyone just did that instead of trying to hurt/kill/maim each other, I think everyone would be a LOT happier.
Do not know thy selfYou never really know yourself, because there are endless situations you could be in; which you haven’t yet, or might not even experience. There are so many versions of you, so many variations that it would be an enormous presumption for you to think you know yourself completely, let alone others.
Relationships begin and end, they have their durations. So do you, in them. The you that starts off, is rarely the you that is left afterward. This is the same for most situations. We’re constantly growing into, and out of ourselves, hoping to stumble across someone in our same phase, to concrete our surreal reality.
Company strengthens our existence, it fortifies our beliefs and our thoughts, because we can share them.
Thoughts, internal monologuing, writing; these are ways to talk to ourselves, to be our own company. Company is essential, even when alone.
With so many distractions accessible, moreover –– unavoidable, there’s little time left for contemplation.
The Voice of the VoicelessThe Voice of the Voiceless
The voice of the voiceless,
will go to the person who can speak on camera.
A person who will put the message out for everyone.
The voice of the voiceless,
will go to the person who is fair.
The person who never uses bias to put there views on the air.
The voice of the voiceless,
will go to the person who doesn't use the follows as a trophy.
The person who cares about the follows and will do anything to make their voices heard.
The voice of the voiceless,
will go to the person who is a leader and not a follower.
A person who will raise the flag and not bring it down.
A leader is not a person who will back-stab the people,
This person will be a loyal leader.
A leader is always fair and balance.
A leader will not kill anyone,
This person will not be Hitler or Stalin.
This person will be Martin Luther King Jr or Mahatma Gandhi.
The leader needs to be good.
The leader needs to be sharp.
The leader needs to be open-minded.
Who will be the leader is anyone's guess,
Aletheia.I don't think anyone is telling the truth when they say, "I don't care what people think."
Even if they say it countless times; you can kind of see it, right? The flicker of their eyes, the way they leave your face for just a split second before focusing right back on the bridge of your nose. You can see it with the way their fingers clench, or how their voice stays as low as a murmur. The twitch of an eyebrow, the quiver of a voice, shaken up at just the right amount. And if you can't see it, then you can only sense it, feel it, beneath your rib cage and deep inside your chest.
"Of course you care what they think."
... Sometimes I wonder if maybe it's not even that. Maybe it's a battle between yourself. A matter of, 'do you feel comfortable in your own body?'. That sort of thing. The correct answer would be to say yes. To say, 'why wouldn't I be?' and fool the person, leaving them to move on to the next person on th
OCs Are ArtEach and every OC is a child.
Born and crafted from your mind to your will.
Like snowflakes each character is unique in their own way.
They may have similar traits yes. But that does not mean that they are overused or cliche.
They are unique and interesting in their own universe. A shy girl in one universe is completely different compared to a shy girl in a different universe. In fact they shouldn't even be compared!
It all depends on what the character is. There is no "typical" character. Each and every character is different in each and every universe. Those separate universes are a whole 'nother ball game out there, and the characters of those universes belong in their universe. If it's a Sci-fi themed universe or completely fantasy with dragons and such! If the character has a logical and not over done backstory I say let it be! After all in this day and age nearly everything has been done so it's impossible to make a character that ISN'T "cliche" or "overused" or "typical". So it'
To those who chose to play it safe.You know, the more I look around, the more I keep seeing people just deciding to just tuck their tails in between their legs. They keep thinking that the best way to go about this is to do the “mature” thing and “play it safe”. Always choosing to be quiet, always afraid that they may somehow offend someone but not caring who, always walking on eggshells, always holding it in, always falling back on comfortable yet lazy excuses like “it’s their company”, never willing to take the chance, and always passing up every opportunity to right the situation, but instead choosing to stick to their memories and just “move on”.
Being silent and reserved about this is not the way to go about this. This whole self-defeating attitude will send SEGA the message that we are not willing to provide any resistance and will provoke them to get away with doing even MORE of the fundamental mistakes that is tearing Sonic’s world apart. We have to be
Life Is But IronyWhen you learn the one thing you wish to possess the most will never be within your reach. The ones you wish to please will be the source of your dismay and the ones you try your best to make proud will be the most disappointed.
The harder we struggle the stronger gravity pulls us down and yet we accept these terms calling them tests or divine punishment. What is there to live for but endless pursing and torment. We are given scraps of delight which we are to consider the most expensive of treasures. For if there is no suffering, how can we learn the weight of joy?
If there is satisfaction with out the effort, what else do we live for? The dread will give us relief. The pain will give us the pleasure. We will always be in a world full of irony and discontent.
The more one is cursed, the more one is blessed.
No body really lays their dreams to rest. We will forever be haunted by the regret and guilt of so many things we've wasted. But the more there are burdens to live and costs to cond
LOVENothing else matters
Creativity is the path
Love is the ultimate
form of communication.
But it can be
Love is simplicity,
Love is small,
you cannot find it
in the big things.
Love is how wind passes
Through chimes or the
squeak of your porch swing
The amount of love
for a place depends on
the amount of time
spent in that place.
Love for people
is what they help
in that place,
what you discovered
to you, how it led
to the completeness
of your soul.
Nothing you buy
can complete you,
unless it is a means
What you read
cannot complete you
but what you learned
from that reading
can lead you to
discovering what is
hidden about yourself.
What you eat
cannot complete you,
it can only supply you
with energy and will
to further complete
and discover new mysteries.
What you watch
cannot complete you
but only give you
vague insight of
what you do not know
hey newton, gravity's flawedi.
starting anew from the flutter
and the sputter of lungs.
a vacant sea filled with feathers
and tumultuous clatter,
ribs in a treacherous pattern
resembling exiting rungs.
i want to wrestle the angels,
your tendency is the ladder.
involved with full indiscretion,
trading lazy for lace.
unspool the curse of the long-
limbs in a languorous flexion
i like the stab of the ankles,
you need the curves intersected.
opting to cull my extents
with trans-dimensional vigor.
spent my dysphoric corrections
on reconnecting lax ends.
lips in a spurious accent
feign a passionate rigor.
i tie myself to the anchor,
you extricate and ascend.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More