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Why I Liewhen i lie,
it's not because i think your stupid enough to believe it,
it's not because it makes me feel good,
it's not because,
it's not because of any of the things that you suggest,
it's because i have trust issues,
not with you,
not with the people i talk to,
not with the people i lie (or tell the truth) to,
but with myself,
and the words that come out of my mouth,
because the words get twisted,
or said in the wrong tone,
and i just don't want to hurt you,
so you don't feel sad or upset with me for the right reasons,
because if your angry or upset with me for the wrong reasons,
i feel what i want to feel stronger than if you hated me for the right reasons,
i feel like i,
i feel like...
i feel more horrible than i am,
because i've lied to the people i care about
and i don't want you to care if i do something that hurts me,
so i don't see your emotions suffering like mine do
so shun me,
just get away from me,
and stay away,
so you don't get hurt
Love Is...a lot of songs have things about love in them
some songs say what love is
2 examples of this are;
in the song 1925 by Hatsune Miku it says:
"What is love?", would you rather hear the truth?
It's something that you LOse or giVE straight out.
It's just a stone that's hard to crack,
I don't care about a diamond.
but in the song Egoselfish by Marina it sings about love
and one of the lines is:
does our "egoselfishness" make it exist?
but i think love is the feeling,
of wanting someone elses happiness
more than you want your own.
so, may i ask,
Do you pick
or do you pick
Fearwhen most people are asked,
what do you fear most?
they say things like;
but what i fear most,
is that the person i tell
my greatest fear to,
will use it,
and make me their slave
a slave to fear.
and i think it's fair to say,
that most people fear,
facing their true selves the most.
in the fear that everyone they care about will reject them.
Most Important Thingwhat's the most important thing to you?
is it friends?
is it your notepad and pen?
your drawing utensils?
or the sofa?
or the sun?
i'll tell your what the most important thing is to me.
it's the fact that i'm alive to enjoy all these wonderful things and more
although i sometimes,
okay, most of the time,
and wish i wasn't born.
right now i'm glad i was,
so i can enjoy these things,
even the things that make me cry.
so i think i will treasure all these things,
until the day i die
Falling Into The Wonderland Of...I'm falling into a world,
not everything makes sense in this world,
monsters loom at every corner,
death could come at every turn,
I'm finding myself loosing my sense of time,
and getting attached to things and people I've just met,
I want it to end,
but I know when it does,
I will want to come back,
this place is magical,
it draws me in,
This isn't the wonderland that Alice fell into,
but it's sometimes very similar,
i'm falling into the wonderland,
and all the things I love.
I'm falling into the wonderland,
of my room with the door closed,
where I can be anyone,
and be myself.
I'm falling into the wonderland...
of my own imagination.
The Hate Filled Truththere is one person i truly hate.
i hate the way this person always acts like they're everyone's friend.
i hate the way they can never express themselves.
i loathe the way this person is always smiling and acting happy.
the thing i hate most,
about this person,
[ i just wanted to make you something beautiful ]When someone enters your life - no matter how you end up feeling about them - they become part of you.
Whether it's their smile touching your lips
the breaths and hitches in their laugh
a melody that clambers or crawls through your mind
the beat of their hearts
the blur or clarity of their sight
the way their lips trail across your neck
the way they tell you they love you
It’s almost like a disease, a piece of their soul traveling on their breath and into your lungs. There, it becomes part of you. Even what you hate about them: how your father clears his throat after smoking a cigar or how an old friend would always quote bad movies. You can’t help but do it, too.
Because at least once in your life - whether for a moment or a lifetime - you loved them.
And love will break you down to your smallest piece and rebuild you up from there.
And you won’t realize that your sight has changed.
You won’t hear their voice on your tongue.
But it’ll always be there.
i read once that
skin replenishes itself
every twenty-seven days.
you lose your skin
waxing and waning.
and within that time,
i have touched that
skin. i have memorized
each crater and astral-burn,
and every rimulose along the
seams of your palm.
you never change-
you're many phases and faces,
but your skin is always
the same substance as
before. your structure is
wholesome. i believe that
inside you there is more than
phenomenon's and numina-
you inhabit more space,
you ellipse more than just
your hands have cradled
a myriad of things, and i've
watched you fade enough times
to tell you that man may scar you,
my inflict a cicatrix upon you while
planting their emblem into you,
that you may fade many times more,
that you may pull one-tide-too-many,
but you are more than skin and soul;
you are more than humanity, more than
dismantled's and incompletes.
more than unfathomable's and
you're more than hands.
the weight of living pt. cdlxxit's a tangle of voices in the midst of rainy 1.53am breakdown
right now i want to cut myself
it feels like an ideal solution
i know it is not
maybe i should throw out my blades
i don't know
i don't know
i do know
i don't want to
the key phrase is just in case
you don't understand
you don't care
i wish .he cared
i also wish he wasn't fucking a fourteen year old harry potter freak with nicer eyes than me
i also wish he didn't spend his lunch times locked away in the drama room with a 52 year old paedophile with marriage problems
i wish i'd never cut myself because it's all these scars that will never fade and they remind me every day of how much i fucked everything up and how much i will never be okay what am i even saying
he reminds me of a sadness i never truly covered up and never truly understood
he reminds me of the gir
Teenage Girls“I don’t know what asshole invented the idea that teenage girls are the cause for all evil, but I really hope that person never has to raise one. I don’t want him to see her dissolve in his fingers as society tells her to eat less, be thinner, be the damsel in distress, be something for a man to fix, be different but not too different, be special but never ever a special snowflake - I don’t want him to watch as she realizes that no matter what she loves, she’ll be made fun of for it. She can simply like her coffee from Starbucks and suddenly she’s vapid and thinks herself poetic. She’ll want to play video games but be called a fake nerd, particularly if she poses in any remotely flirtatious way because for some reason despite the entire community playing games with poorly dressed women they still hate it when a real girl wears less clothing, she will be seen as trespassing in a specifically male space - but when she falls in love with a female-
Today My Hands Reek of Doctor Office SoapBecause I frantically washed my hands in the back room
Because I’m one anxious little fuck when it comes to needles and
Crying children in the hallways and rooms where the walls are paper thin
Because I nearly pass out when needles are stuck into my arm several times
Because no one can ever find a goddamned vein the first time
Trying to calm myself as the doctor comes back in and the first words out of my mouth are
“So what are some good anxiety medications these days?”
The Mask Keep calm, breathe. No-one's noticed.
'Are you OK? You look worried.'
Shit. Never mind. If you're careful about it, you'll be fine.
'No, no. I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all.'
Was I OK? Please say she believes me.
'Alright. I was just worried about you.' And she wanders off down the corridor.
Phew. She's gone. She believed me.
The teacher is handing out worksheets. I flip mine over a few times, trying to make sense of the words on the page.
What the hell is this all about? I missed the last lesson; I've got no idea what we're doing. I can't understand Italian!
'Does everyone know what they're doing? Put your hand up if you don't.'
No. I can't put my hand up. She'll ask me what it is exactly and then I'll have to say it in front of the class and I can't do that. No. Your hand is staying down. Just please... let someone else put their hand up instead.
'No-one? You all understand?' She soun
Dear DA Admins, are you listening?Dear DA Admins…if you’re even listening to this.
Are you all some men that get aroused when seeing the naked female body? Is that why you let nude/offensive pictures slip without a mature tag, and ignore your members when we attempt to flag an image for lacking the proper warning.
Honestly, you’re allowing people to sell their naked bodies on here? Is DA now porn hub, kreigslist? Girls can just take pictures of themselves and sell them now? Pathetic that’s all I can say. I thought this was supposed to be an art website, not a porn website. And you may look and say, “It’s not that bad” but sooner or later naked girls claiming to be “nude art”, are going to take over DA then it will turn into porn and then what? Will it even still be legal, will this site be shut down as well?
DA Admins, this is really for you because I feel that you just ignore the users that seek real art. We don’t like seeing nude women on the front page sel
Nowhere Left to RunListen well and hard, Little girl.
You can't cross this road alone,
It's dangerous to run off into a crowd.
You're ignorant of this cruel world.
You had a hand to hold onto,
But you slapped it away.
Her love notes meant nothing to you.
You never did what she told you to do.
Then you wonder why you're searching,
Searching for the right answers.
She knew everything you need to know,
But you treated her like a dreg.
Listen well and hard, stupid girl.
Grown and lost in the world.
Life is just madness without her.
Always running into forks in the road.
She knew the right path,
But you denied her, now she's gone.
Now you cry, Mother, Oh Mother...
Why didn't I listen to you?
How could I have been so cruel?
And you still cry, Mother, Oh Mother...
I am so confused...
How could I have been such a fool?
And you still wonder why...
You've been down all the brick roads...
There's nowhere left to run.
Your only resort is to let it go,
Let it all go and leave it all behind.
Learn your lesson and take
Depression?People have asked me to describe depression. And don’t seem to understand the inability to put it into words. People don’t understand the thought process and the dysfunction inside someone depressed isn’t easily described. So when people ask me to describe it, I can’t quite say what I mean.
Perhaps it is like being in a pit. A dark hole with no light and no comfort. And you try everyday to climb out of it and you can never quite reach the top so you eventually give up. But that’s not entirely true. I don’t always fail at getting out but I don’t stop myself from falling in. And it isn’t a dark sad place all the time. I can be surrounded by people I love and things I love and still not be truly happy.
So then, maybe it’s like a rollercoaster. It’s a ride of ups and downs and ongoing loop-de-loops. Yet this doesn’t justify it either. I can for days without ups or downs. Days without insanity or days without relief. So how i
Genghis Whenever we were bad my mother used to take us to the mall to see Genghis Kahn. They kept him in a dusty diorama of a Mongolian steppe, all tall grass and yurts. He sat on a throne of bone (well, plastic shaped like bone), scowling in incomprehension at the American kids who flocked around him like startled lemmings. My mother would usually push us toward him, saying things like “Tell him what you did to your father’s stamp collection.” Genghis would give a grunt, spit a wad of phlegm onto the tall grass, and give us a wizened, wrinkled grimace, as if he had to go to the bathroom.
He terrified me.
My brother couldn’t get enough of him.
When my brother got caught in my mother’s evening dress, my mother grabbed us both and dragged us to Genghis. It was a slow day, and we were the only kids crowding him. “Tell him what you did,” my mother hissed a
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More