|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
TimeO watch the date being written on the top of a page and I think about time, and years, and seconds and minutes, and nothing makes sense.
I think of hours becoming minutes and minutes ticking like seconds but not quite and not fast but not slow, never enough time. And like a white rabbit I chase after my clock and all I can do is drag you behind me tired and gasping for breath.
But time is relative like our perception of it, and in the clarity of your eyes upon me and the brush of your skin no moment is infinite and even though we have no end I can’t seem to find enough time.
Days pass us by in waking moments and yet I dream of you, beside you, because of you.
And yet we don’t have enough time, not 12 hours, not 7 days, our bodies and hands always seem to seek for more, never satisfied.
And another full moon will pass, and I will be waiting, for time to once more stop, upon you.
Por ahoraY todo sigue fluyendo: el agua recolectada en el pequeño canal temporal afuera de mi ventana, la brisa en las copas de los árboles, meciendo a las aves, que mañaneras se duermen temprano, el ir y venir de la gente al terminar el día.
Y nada se detiene, ni el cortejo amargo y distante de las estrellas, que fallecidas, nos mandan un último suspiro, ni las estaciones que, confundidas por arboles perenes, se tropiezan unas con otras sin saber cuándo es quien ni donde es alguien.
Y yo aquí sigo pensándote, entre palabras a medio escribir, temprano en la mañana; durante el café, queriendo tomar tu mano; después de la ducha, cuando mi cabello, ahora más corto, más simple, rosa mi nuca fría y me estremezco.
Y los días se alargan, y el tiempo estira, y continuo inmóvil. Por ahora me conformo en pensarte y fluir como el agua, como la briza, como el tiempo.
How to be a better writer!How to be a better writer, or
Even a better artist.
“Trust me”, I have experience,
I’ve been at it for years.
Let me give you a few simple guidelines,
Some that I myself go off of,
And I’ll pretend that my style,
Choice of words, will work for everyone else.
And let’s not forget to mention that
I am a premium member! A beta tester!
A senior member!
Till hell freezes over!
I must know what I’m talking about?
In all my greatness and glory!
I have the authority,
To tell others how to make their art better.
Let’s cut the bullshit here and now,
And ignore those people who tell us our style.
One person, so skilled and great,
With art that all tend to appreciate,
Does not have the right to lead ‘his’ flock,
To determine whose art is worthy or not.
You write one way I write another,
My thoughts are calm, while yours are loud as thunder.
She strokes left, but he’ll stroke right,
Her art his peaceful, but his depicts a fight.
A pencil i
The Secret of LifeSome people say future and past don't exist, that you should live in the moment.
Then, I ask you: why do we have children?
How could we reach the level of knowledge we have today?
We build on top of each other, on top of the past, and the past is the very thing that forges us, the very reason we are what we are.
Living in the moment means saying that we shouldn't be concerned about our planet, about the fact that we are running out of resources.
Truth is, we already are living in the moment.
Truth is, we already are living like animals, ignoring the future.
On the other hand, ignoring the future can ease the pain of acknowledging what life actually is, just like ignoring the past does.
But no amount of deep insight and knowledge can be obtained without any price.
No pain, no gain.
Are you ready to accept reality and fight to seek knowledge, or do you prefer living in your shell, in your own reality?
Neither is wrong.
Reality is what
you choose it is.
Make your choice.
And be proud of i
Avoidant Personality DisorderI've never gotten to explain this to anyone before, since every time I try, I break into some sort of sobbing fit. If my explanation sounds a little funky, that may be why.
Yeah. So, I have APD, or Avoidant Personality Disorder.
To summarize, it's a disorder that makes people want to avoid social contact and criticism by all means.
Unfortunately, that includes me.
I didn't know about the disorder until I browsed through psychological disorders for writing purposes, and happened to find it. I matched every single symptom.
Every last one, period. And I believe, wholeheartedly, that I have it.
This isn't your WebMD diagnosis, not when you feel so badly.
It's a really difficult feeling to describe.
Whenever you so much as try to make conversation with any person, you feel like chopping your head off. In my case, you're afraid to say hello. Or goodbye, or thank you, or I love you, or things that people should be able to say without stopping to think.
You feel unworthy o
Entry Four- Step One Almost CompleteStop.
Stop comparing myself to others.
I am different from you, him, her, them, they.
Just because I believe differently from you doesn’t make me a horrible person.
Magic HourMagic Hour
by Kit the Wolfy
I always keep a cool and sunny place in my heart.
A place where the sky glows with the rich blue and pink and yellow of dusk and dawn, and everything is in picture-perfect clarity.
It's my own private magic hour.
And in this magic hour where everything is clear and bright, I take some time every day to reflect.
Reflect on the people I love.
Even if it's hard to continue, and even if I have scars,
My magic hour always heals the pain.
So, every day, I take a little time to retreat into my heart, into my magic hour.
And in that magic hour, I sit down in the grass, lie back, stare up at the shining sky...
And I think about how grateful I am that I have the people I love.
EmotionalA lot of people say that emotions is what makes us human because it's healthy for us to stay happy, joyful, and to always smile. But, what if the table was turn? In fact, is it turned already? Because some people can't feel that way.
What if instead they felt the opposite? What if they felt sad, pessimistic, and always cried tears every day in their lives? Some of them can't help, but feel like that. They feel like they're hopeless, mistakes, imperfect, or not good enough, anxious, depressed, bipolar, tearful, broken, and never going to be the person they dream of being.
So the real question is: Is being any other emotion besides happiness make us human?
NothingAnd the preview shows Nothing, just like the title of this poem.
But what's behind the "Nothing"? If you come closer you will see anything that is, paradoxically, "The Nothing."
Lost!Meandering through a dense jungle, lost in my own thoughts.
Climbing through the thickets, beating back the vines!
The path ahead with its twists and turns, seems to lead nowhere!
Now standing stock-still, scanning the forest rooftop, I feel so alone!
Is there no one who can hear me, as I cry out for guidance?
No one to reach out to, so as to take my hand?
But wait! Is that a sliver of light I see, shining through the darkness?
It is my angel, here to comfort me!
La Realidad De Mis ExpectativasQuería regalarte todas mis ideas y pensamientos, pero note que pensábamos igual.
Quería recostarme contigo de noche y rogarte para ver mis películas favoritas, pero conocías todas las historias.
Me estire para tomar tu mano de sorpresa, pero me esperabas con dedos extendidos y palmas suaves.
Soñaba con pasar las tardes contigo y desvelarnos hasta la madrugada, conversando entre besos y mirándote de reojo, como cada fin de semana parecemos hacerlo.
Últimamente me encuentro de humor para escribir líneas cortas, supongo que es bueno eliminar el relleno de vez en cuando
Keep in Touch!