Browsing Biography & Memoir on deviantART

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Concerning Equality And TerritorialismSince just before my fourth birthday, my parents took me to a camping site in a northern region of this country for the first time.

Since then, every year, multiple times. Of course, there was a time when I wanted to soak the place in gasoline and light it all up against the night sky, but hey, who doesn't rebel against his caretakers during adolescence, right? But a few years ago, I came to realize that this specific site means more of an home to me than the building in my birth town. The people that are regulars here too are more family to me than the folks back there which happen to share my same last name. Friends you choose, family you Concerning Equality And Territorialism11 minutes ago in Stories & Vignettes

Construction Paper HeartIn all my life, there are many things my brothers taught me. Very few of them were taken seriously, and I can only remember a handful.

And so, rule number four was as follows: If you're ever on your first date with a guy in a restaurant and your date orders a lemon margarita, dump him. Immediately. Just end it right there.

Rule number six was to never, ever feed a stray cat tuna, for then, they will become tuna junkies.

Yes, I know, they're both very important life lessons; I agree. However, there's a deeper meaning in both of them. ...Well, alright, maybe there isn't.

But they did teach me this, and it's more than enough to make it throuConstruction Paper Heart38 minutes ago in Stories & Vignettes

The mystery girl on the trainWho are you?

It was the 3rd of May.
You stood on the train at what I think was Colchester, and left at Manningtree.
You wore primarily black clothes.
Your t-shirt said "out of my mind, back in 5 minutes".
Your hoodie had some animal-print on it.
You had a pink backpack.
You wore those finger-less glove-thingies.
You wore glasses.
You wore a headset.
It said soulcandy, or something like that.
I think it had some blue on it.
You were listening to loud music.
Fallout Boy.
"He tastes just like you, only sweeter."

And to me, you looked gorgeous.

I was on my way back home from a study-trip.
I wore mostly black clothes.
Black hoodie with The mystery girl on the train2 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

Smoke Stitches: The Fabric of Family Smoke Stitches: The Fabric of Family

I’m looking at a picture.
What a way to start. It’s an overdone, typical beginning. Someone standing with a photo album, flipping through pages of family reunions, only recognizing every third face they see. Suddenly they come across a picture of a person they almost forgot existed…or it could be you, doing a little light dusting on a bookshelf in the corner, brushing a rag down the spines of authors you promise to read again someday, just not today. You pick up a picture frame with the purpose of wiping the filth from the glass, but after the first swipe, you see a gaggle of smilingSmoke Stitches: The Fabric of Family3 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

I don't care.Who cares about humanity? We all knew that we were going to blow ourselves to pieces one day, it was just a matter of when. We use to have huge buildings, hospitals, cars, and inventions that could change the world for the better, but instead we used technology to slowly kill ourselves with nuclear weapons, pollution, and biological warfare. Human's biggest threat was themselves, and now we have to deal with it. We're the ones who have to change the world. We have to fix the mistakes that our grandparents and parents made for us. We never even had a choice, just a "responsibility". We never wanted to grow up in this treacherous world that theI don't care.4 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

Before.So this is how it’s going down:

I have had my hair long for at least fifteen years. I remember—or at least, I think I remember—climbing up on the sink in our trailer-house, finger the back of my head and saying, “Mom, I want long hair.”

I’ve had it growing ever since.

That’s not to say I’ve never had a haircut, just that I’ve never had it short ever since. I trim a bit here, clip a bit there, get rid of bubble gum and bramble seeds and sometimes snip some bangs up when I’m feeling rebellious. I usually regret the bangs pretty quickly. Now, my hair is eighteen inches long from the Before.5 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

Music From Another Room

I’ve never been someone that is magically drawn to the piano in the corner of the room. I’ve never liked playing in front of others. It’s always felt so personal.

I used to love playing Chopin. Alone. And, Bach. He was my favorite composer. Still is. He was so specific.

I have a great love for classical music. It isn’t something I heard a lot growing up. I learned to play it before I learned to listen to it. Which seems backwards, I know. It’s like starting to write a novel before you’ve ever read a damn thing.

Whenever I listen to Bach, I find myself wondering what he felt as he wrote his music. Did he Music From Another Room10 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

Cards [Updated]“Hello..” The small card read, held by a petite girl in the dark room, her dark eyes staring into the reflection that mocked her. “My name is Arielle Marie Blevins, and I am 13. But call me Sba.” The candle flickered on the white counter, the dim light casting eerie shadows that danced across the walls of the small bathroom.

Her hands shook a little and she tossed the card down, trying to make sure it didn’t hit the burning flame. She read her next card with tired eyes, “My story is a unique one. Interesting.” The girl bit her lip nervously, letting her own mind flood with memories of the past asCards [Updated]13 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

MissingI used to be bullied, as usual it means that someone is abusing you or me or whoever. Anyway this would be differnet if I had someone to stand up for me the girl who was bullying me had an army of people it was hell to stand up for her. Everywhere I turned there was someone to try to make me misserable, but everyone has to have someone, right? Well, I did, sort of. It was my sister, now like all sisters we fight, not just screaming no she hits, bites, screams, kicks, yells, trys to see how misserable she could make you feel and then add physical pain to that, now imagine that this is the only person in the world you or I or whoever could turMissing16 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes

I am a womanI am not an object.

You cannot use me.

I was not made simply for your pleasure.
I am not a pretty picture to be used and thrown away.

I have a heart, feelings, dreams….

I have a purpose here.

I am a human being, a person like you.

And it hurts me when you treat me as less than human.

It hurts me when I become less than a whole,

And just the sum of my parts.

It hurts me when I become just something to please you.

It hurts me when you strip away my humanity,

My clothes,

My purity.

Even if just with your eyes and mind.

You cannot stare at me in longing.

You cannot undress me with your eyes.

You cannot force me to kiss you.

You cannot grope me as you see fit.

You cannot take advantage of me.

You cannot have your way with me.

I am not to be dominated.

I am not to be violated.

When I say no, I do NOT mean yes.

When I teI am a woman1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes

CCT Anniversary Retrospective: Part 5Part 5: Heart Cards

With the cards sealed and the Judgment over, the next major plot point in the original Cardcaptors was transforming the cards so they could draw their powers from their new master. This was important in the first series because no new magic would mean the death of the cards and their Guardians. In Cardcaptor Torika I decided to add a sense of urgency. As the cards' old master was still alive, they themselves were not in any danger. Instead, the danger went back to Sakura.

The design for the seal, book and staff for the Heart Cards arc came before the story was written. Being this was a magical girl series, and that the sCCT Anniversary Retrospective: Part 51 day ago in Stories & Vignettes

Things About Me 1Well. Let me start off by saying this is just a list explaining a few things plus some random shit about me.

I don't like ignoring people. I do read everything someone sends me, but I honestly feel uncomfortable talking to people sometimes. I would love to but it's like...Like I feel like somewhere along the lines I'll seriously piss off someone on accident or make them hate me because of my opinions. I dunno.

I have no confidence in myself at all. Usually people think I say "I'm fat" or "I wish I was beautiful" for attention. But it's not. I honestly feel that way. I think I'm hideous.

I want to be a writer but I feel like my writing is tThings About Me 11 day ago in Stories & Vignettes

WantingWhen I was young, I wanted so much.
When I was very young, I wanted that cake, or this cerial, I wanted this toy or please will you buy me these shoes, or I will never ask for anything ever again if I can please have this.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve wanted less and less.
There was a blissful period in my life where I wanted so little, I was never far from happiness. All I wanted was the sun on my skin, or to feel the rain on my face, and tear through the town where I live, wearing beaten up trainers. Just to move and to feel that movement and be caught up in it.
That was all I needed.

Gradually even my want for that fell away.

Wanting1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes

rushing in my earsThe sound of water now wakes me, jerking me from my sleep with a flinch and quick leap from my sleeping place. I'm paranoid I'll wake up and I'll be underwater and all my belongings, with their attached memories, will be gone.

I always have to get up and double check everywhere after that, making sure nothing really is on and working on drowning me in my sleep.

I don't sleep right now.rushing in my ears2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes

a thought on loveif only love was an option.a thought on love2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes

The ReturnI 've returned from my exile. At last I've conquered my demons, inside and out. I am the victor, and the journey is my spoils. No longer afraid, no longer vulnerable. This may be the anthem of my victory; this may be the dirge of my defeat. I know my name, and what I stand for. No longer behind facades and false emotions. No, my name is not Evan any longer, he perished along the way. My name is Nicholas. I am a human with my own feelings, real feelings.

Courage is what I've foundThe Return2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes

Amber?Amber is the girl that never had dad and her mom was always working. She has one brother and a dog (the dog is a boy). Amber is sixteen with a lot a head of her. She was conceived on Valentines Day and was born on Veterans Day with a big V on the fore head for in tell she became a one year old than the V was gone. The first two years of her life she as with her grandma because her dad did not take good care of her and her mom was working two jobs trying two to pay bills, get food for the table, and close. Her mom did all the work while her dad did nothing. Then two years later her brother comes into the picture. Amber and her brother are two years, one mouth, five days, eleven hours, and six minutes apart from each other. She was about two and a half years old and her brother was not a year old yet when their mom left their dad. When Amber was five she went to school the first time Kindergarten yay. Amber was six years old for firstAmber?2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes

MOMENTO MORI

Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop to look around once in a while you might just miss it.

So, says Ferris Bueller.

And, he should know. I mean, he is a fictional character and all. No one uses time wiser than a fictional character. While we may or may not approve of how they spend their time ~ I do think we can agree that they do spend it. They don’t save it for a rainy day. Or, think that tomorrow is a better day for this or that.

Fictional characters are aware that the end is in sight. Most of us are oblivious. We spend each day as if we have a bunch of them locked up tight in Fort Knox. As if, when we waste time, we aMOMENTO MORI2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes

Life as a Medical Anomaly Part 8Asthma has many different amount of causes with numerous reactions to each cause. Some causes of asthma maybe harmless to a few, but it could be a major inflammation in others. People with asthma may have many different causes, compared to others that might have little or no identifiable ones. When it comes to handling asthma attacks and lessening the amount one experiences, depends mostly on avoiding the specific causes of asthma that have been identified. It is important, therefore, to keep a record of what triggers your asthma as this will help give you an overall cause for the asthma.

Handling asthma is no easy feat, there are timesLife as a Medical Anomaly Part 83 days ago in Introductions & Chapters

John Steinbeck Bio John Steinbeck was born February the 27th during the year 1902 in Salinas, California. His family was from a middle class background over extreme affluence or extreme poverty. His dad’s with a similar name. Had an occupation of many odd jobs to keep his family afloat. He had a grain and feed business, and also owned a flour mill which was one of the best in Montgomery County. His mother called Olive was a former school teacher that may have influenced his desire to become a writer when he became that noble age of 14.
Through his years of experience, he saw many negative aspects of human behavior. During his early years, he spentJohn Steinbeck Bio3 days ago in Introductions & Chapters

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