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Face ItFace It
I flung my pencil across the room. It hit the wall with a 'thunk!' Sitting against the wall in the living room of my apartment, I was trying to write something in the notebook I held, but no ideas were coming. It was already 1:00 AM and I was running out of time. Around me, crumpled up papers were scattered, broken skeletons of my thoughts. To my right, my muse was lazing on my couch, humming some irritating tune. I leant back and bumped my head against the wall.
"You could help, you know." I growled at her, frustrated at my lack of inspiration. She twisted on the couch so that her legs were up above it and her head hung upside down at me. Her hair was long and blonde. It pooled in a pile on the carpet. She was wearing pyjama shorts and a t-shirt and looking at me with a grin.
"But it's so much more fun watching you squirm, silly!" She laughed, "Serves you right for leaving it to the last minute. Besides, you're the one who comes up with the ideas; I just bring them to life. So
Rainy DaysHe gazed into my eyes for a very long time. I waited patiently, relaxed. We were seated in a small booth of a cheap family restaurant by a window, giving us a lovely view of the harbour. It wasn't a sunny day, but overcast, and there had been a few showers throughout the morning. The feeling of his fleece jacket on my skin was nice. As was the comforting presence of my camera bag pressing against my denim jeans. Warmth radiated from my mug of hot chocolate, which I captured in my hands. Despite his stare, I was completely at ease; somehow, I knew he was just one of those people I could trust.
"I don't understand...," He finally said, quietly. "How does a woman like you, who is always trying to find a logical answer for everything, believe in something so...completely outrageous?"
I bit my lip, uncertain how to reply. Truth was, I didn't know why. I didn't have the answer. My eyes tore from his in my discomfort, looking for something to grasp onto in my lap, and finding nothing. Fiddlin
The EndI look down at the little glowing orb nestled in the palms of my hand. It is light as air, and as I draw it close it begins to shine brightly. It is the happiest sight I have ever seen and in my heart I feel light and happy. There is nothing more beautiful and true.
I can feel his eyes on my back. I lift my gaze and see the ruins of my city, but with the sky so blue and the sun so bright. Amidst the air I can smell the ash, but taste the ocean, and feel the life. I know now that everything will be okay. The light becomes stronger yet.
I turn to face him, in the place where it all began. He stands a few feet away from me and meets my eyes with a smile in his. A light wind tossles my hair in my face and I quickly sweep it out of my eyes. I don't want anything to ever blind my view in the slightest.
Cradling the light against my chest with one hand, I step forward to close the gap between us. I pause midway and he closes the rest of the way. I reach up and touch his cheek and l
WeaveHe came to me with Pandora's Box and cocked an eyebrow at me. I dare you. Well! I eyed it cautiously and caressed the top with trembling fingertips. He caught me by my index finger and kissed it gently with that look you know the one in his eyes. Behind my pulse, a quickening beat, I could only hear a small voice telling me with urgency, 'Let go!' These walls surrounding me have been white for much too long anyway, I thought as I unleashed the story within.
I now paint my walls with pretty colours. I get arm deep in paint and corrupt the white walls with the stories I tell with my hands and my mind and my soul. Within the box I found something something special, something true, something alive that resides in me. I know now what I want to say, and I shall not let anyone try to tell me I want to say is different. The truth is too far deep inside for them to reach.
With it came her. She was art of intricate design, weaving and dancing
yes, we are brokensomething lies
in quiet uncertainty -
razor sharp dialouge
cuts the line between
this and that.
it leaves us breathless
as we bleed mania.
i can't decidei. words are lies
pretty little nothings
that mean nothing
and, sweet, we know nothing
ii. i try
but cannot see
like an old-school cinema
never stole my heart
(it was always my opinion
that it looked best with red)
iii. words are weapons
when left to their own devices)
without a voice
words are empty lies
(and fall on deaf ears)
iv. it may seem like
to weave intricate nothings
made out of nothing
but my own thought
when what do i know?
but i feel something
v. this is my metaphor
can you figure it out?
this may be nothing
let there be no doubt
but if we look closer
it's easy to say
i'm creating an image
to show you my way
of seeing the meaning
beneath uttered cries
because with no meaning or feeling
all words become lies.
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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