deviantART

 

Browse Perspectives

Popular Newest
Most popular deviations in Perspectives      submitted in the last 8 hours
[x]  
Join Now | Buy deviantWEAR | Advertise Here
SheSometimes I forget what she looks like.  Because it really doesn't matter.   
I go about my day, doing everything I need to.  Taking care of my children.  Taking care of my house.  Sometimes I can go a full day without even making eye contact with her.   
Then when I do, it's like a reminder.  Sometimes it can even be a slap in the face.  It's like she is screaming to me "PAY ATTENTION TO ME!  I'M IMPORTANT TOO!" and I decide to take a moment with just her.  She gets put on the back burner too often.   
Sometimes I forget what she loo She
Seeking SolaceI want to be alone. I want solitude. I want to be isolated from it all; to put it all on my blind side. Yet this is one wish I, we, can never be granted. No one is truly alone, no matter how much it seems so. You may be the last of a nation. But you are never alone. There are always people there; before you, behind you, in your mind, all around.  
 
Solitude, to others, may be the aspect of being in a room with no other living soul to disturb your peace.  This is not true. You are not alone. There are many things there with you. The voices in your head, the complaints you are making because you aren't alone, because you ar Seeking Solace
The endThe hand rose to her soft cheek.  It came to caress the pain that had just been brought.  She looks back at him, the whiplash fading across her altered impression.  She looks at him again.  A soft wave of epiphany floods over her.  She stares at him, hand still to face, caressing the burning spot that's filled with aches.  She grabs for the numbness to face him and forgive.  But she can't grasp the lack of emotion that once settled like a puzzle inside of her.  Inside herself is a turmoil some how revived, a lick of fire that is beginning to burn once again.  The end
Fond Memories, Old and NewMy name is Jade. I've been traveling wih these friends of mine for a long time now. They are all so interesting, such neat powers and interesting pasts. Well, more or less depressing, but there are other things as well.   
My past, it isn't quite so sad or interestiing. No, mine is more beneign; much more normal. When I tell my friends, they say that they're envious of me, wishing that their lives had been so easy.   
I'd lived in California for most of my life. My parents divorced when I was young, and I mostly lived with my Mom, though I would see Dad over the weekends. I didn't have too many friends growning up, but I w Fond Memories, Old and New
Rawiya AwakensRawiya Awakens   
       She was born a storyteller, and so she was named: Rawiya, the teller of stories. Born into an ordinary world, an ordinary home, two-up-two-down and two-TVs; she was born into an ordinary life. In the hospital where she cried her first breath of reality hundreds of others did the same- a normal birth, a standard procedure in a monochromatic system. There was nothing to set her apart, aside from her name- a strange gift from a long-dead relative, a mark of respect from a standard family. Rawiya: the storyteller.   
 As others did, she grew up in the normal mann Rawiya Awakens
trancript 1--transcript of patient's responses, sunday the thirteenth --   
Feel? (chuckles) How do I feel? (pause) Well I suppose I don’t know how I feel. (pause) Yes, I’ve been angry, upset, all of that, but how do I feel now? Like, right now? I don’t know. I don’t really feel pain. I guess (pause) I guess I sort of ache. Like there was pain, but it’s faded out. (pause) I guess this is what it feels like to be exhausted, but like emotionally. (pause) My feelings are tired.  What? Normal? Well it’s not normal for me and I doubt it’s normal for anyone else. Just because I’m not currently (pause) sad trancript 1
Sorrow of a Faceless Evil Pt.3The next morning I awoke to the sounds of the rain falling, pattering onto the leaves of the canopy above before racing downwards. The cave that we three were in provided adequate cover from it. Everything soon became blanketed in the water hailing down from the sky giving it this dark looking air, and although it was heavily laden with foreboding, the essence of those darkening shades made my mind feel at ease. The rumblings of some soft thunder sounded in the distance.  The wind whipped across the stretch of forest before my sight, bringing the natural debris of leaves and various weak branches with it, as it whistled its way arou Sorrow of a Faceless Evil Pt.3
The Beautiful DiseaseWhen he wakes up he knows, knows in the deep verdant way of the trees, knows in the way a seed knows when to grow; it is time.  
 
He laboriously rises from the bed, as a sad breeze whispers in his mind:    No more; no more; Change is nigh.  The pensive sadness changes into a hurricane of anger:  No!  Stop! Turn Back! Fight!   
A month ago he would have, but not now.  Filled with solidness, rooted to the Earth, he understands that storms come and go.  They have little meaning to him now.  Soon his roots will grow firm and deep.  Storm will bend him, The Beautiful Disease
Innocenceand were we suppose to know about  
this scattered wasteland, stretched across valleys  that dive deep into the cracks of our mind?  your fingers intertwined with mine,  
if only our hearts were too  with every step into depth,  
i sink further into another world  one i dream of, one you can't comprehend,  
one i can't comprehend and one you dream of  kissing the tips of my toes are the lips of darkness itself  its glib, seductive tongue entwined around  
the slender ankles of my soul  high above us lies an endless and infinite opening  
to forbidden knowledge  your fingers Innocence
Sleepover SeanceSleepover Séance   
 The red Silverado pulled up in front of a grey, concrete driveway that was slightly cracked on the sides. Tossing a few loose strands of thick, dark brown hair over my left shoulder, the car, at last, came to a stop. My family was proud of our Cherokee decent and the glossy locks that came with it. I glanced out of the window at the black tinted mailbox bearing six bright pink balloons. My eyes then wandered to the front exterior of the red-bricked house with a rusty rail connecting the stairway, whose bricks glowed crimson in the vibrant sunlight. This is where I would be spending the night with Katie Sleepover Seance
Letter from KonstanceTo whom it may concern:   
I did not wish for this. My rebirth was forty-seven years ago, and I was only five. Anna was the woman who saved me. I was ill, the plague was taking me to my death and on that final breath, I felt the blood being drained from me. She had taken a knife to all of my arteries, and I remember how the white sheets turned crimson. I died, and yet…was reborn.   
Anna then cut her own wrist and pressed it against my slit throat. Her violet blood filled my body and I was frozen in a phase before death. Thus is the beginning of an immortal.   
Immortals are righteous beings whom fight again Letter from Konstance
sideways songit's another night in this bar and god i wish i wasn't here.   
i doodle a flower on the back of my hand with a pen again and wonder if he's coming back. no probably not he bailed to the bathroom a long time ago and probably found some new hot girl to follow like the dog he is can't believe i ever thought i'd like him.   
i listen as the amateur singer's voice floats hollowly in the air above people's heads. i lay my head on the table to the side, to get a new view of him. did he ever think he'd be here since he was little i wonder or did he wind up here by accident why is he here i want to know. this perspective shows me sideways song
the snowflake, the meteorShe  There’s this boy she doesn’t know.  She’s interested in him… not that way, though.  But he’s interesting, and different and fascinating. And he says things no one else understands. Not the way she does. But she’s not in love with him, no, never love. But the look in his eyes, like he knows that she’s the only one who understands him.  She just goes a little weak for that look.   
 
On He  He broods, with his hat and trench coat and combat boots, leaning against the wall as snow falls, gathering by his feet. She pauses as she walks out the door, admiring the monoch the snowflake, the meteor
Blood and Foliage
Paris 4 .. GargoyleGargoyle   
but maybe today’s when i visit the notre dame again, and probably just stay there until a service begins, as one inevitably will, after a few minutes .. and ends .. the singing is worth the hearing, and despite the atheist flag I wave as proudly as the black anarchist one, somehow the experience of watching the french practice their faith is ‘being here now’ and ‘being utterly elsewhere’ simultaneously .. and wondering on that queue outside hoping for a glimpse of quasimodo, and on the gargoyle overlooking paris, whose portrait is taken thousands of times daily by every tourist with a camera .. a Paris 4 .. Gargoyle
Paris 3 .. Minotaurs
Paris 2 .. Thirteen Black PinsThirteen Black Pins   
i’ll just stay very quiet, not make a sound nor move and just watch the sunrise over the seine, and know with certainty i’ll be needing a hangover cure of epic proportions .. semi-prepared in advance .. keeping the red wine cork from one of the bottles bought at the bottlerie near the champion supermarche on rue de buci, which i opened with my teeth and spat the cork into the left pocket of my coat, and already having half the ingredients for the traditional voodoo hangover cure, which is sticking thirteen blackheaded pins into the bottle top, cork, thing, of whatever it was that caused the damage in Paris 2 .. Thirteen Black Pins
Paris 1 .. Frenzied Cortinas
24 60 120
RSS

Site Map

©2009 deviantART. All rights reserved
About Us | Contact Us | Help & FAQ Advertise | Services Etiquette | Privacy Policy | Terms of Service | Copyright Policy