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Trade MistakesOh god.
I roll my eyes. It's my friend. I know she means well, but it's annoying when people care too much sometimes.
"You need a job."
There is one problem with her suggestion. I already have a job. It's from when I wake up to when I fall asleep and it's called feeling sorry for myself. Yeah, it's a pretty demanding job. The hours are shit and so is the pay, but I am part of a million people strong network. Some people do it part time, others full time.
I work full time.
"I'll get one," I tell them. They mean well and I love them dearly, really. I mean if i loved myself as much as I loved them I would be the most concieted person on the planet. I love them that much. Maybe my love for them will pull me out of this rut and I ckinda hope it does.
Actually I'm kinda relying on that love.
Full time, kinda like my job. I think I mostly depend on their love though. When I really think about it. I need their appraisal. I need their smiles. I need the way they say 'it's ok
Anna MollySometimes I want to believe I'm different.
I brush shoulders with some girls from my school and they scoff. Did she just touch me? They're disgusted. Why? Why are they disgusted? I have the same anatomy as them. I just look different. They all look the same, like manufactured barbies that try too hard.
And physically I am.
I make my way past the different cliques and I wonder: how exactly do they look at me? Do they look at me like the barbies do? I can hear my feet, like a metronome. Clack, clack, clack. Or rather squeak, squeak, squeak because I'm wearing some worn out boots and the floor is wet.
I have never been a part of them. The cliques. I've always been alone. Yeah, I guess alone is a good word for it. I perfer self isolation. I think I gave up on humanity somewhere along the line. People were so selfish and so was I. I wanted to much more. I wanted to be different.
I was. Just not in the way I wanted to be.
I cross my arms like I'm holding up a shield because I'm starti
With A BangI don't think I'd ever meet anyone quite like her if she'd died that night.
She's sketching. I'm looking over her schoulder because I'm curious. I'm always curious when she'd doing something. It's always something incredible and fantastic and beautiful. She doubts these words when she hears them.
She's using red now. It's not bright red, or brick red, which is this weird orange-red that's just bullshit, it's this pretty scarlet red. Whatever she's drawing must be bleeding or blossoming and quite frankly it looks like both.
She's dyed her hair again. It's the same color as the crayola she's using. Her red hair goes in every which direction. It bobs with the way she moves and it expresses her firey soul which is quickly burning out. It's smoldering and I'm kind trying to bring it back to life, but it's hard.
I don't know if I can save her.
I really hope I can because it's such bullshit that someone who use to shine as bright as her is still so blinding as she's goin' out.
Let. Me. In.I put your work in my folder called home, because that's where you belong; in my heart, inside my home.
I think I found her"Who are you?"
It was a question uttered out loud in a disbelieving voice and it was a good question. Who was I? Why am I here? Who had I been? My eyes fell from her's and I kept asking myself. Was there an answer? A true answer? Not one of those cracker box answers that only gave a boring description. I couldn't give her one that was exciting either because I knew that was a lie.
"I don't know," I finally answered as I lift my gaze to see her. She looks familiar. Maybe I knew her once? She smiles at me for a brief moment and we look away. "You gonna be okay?" she asks, after a moment of hestitance of course.
"Yeah, I think so."
We share that mutual smile and I wipe at the mirror. "Good pep talk," I tell myself and she smiles again. I had lost her in a bottle of something bad. "Talk to you later?" She gives a slight bouncy nod like she's expecting me later and I smile to myself.
"I think I found her."
Game of WarI watch as the little boys play war in the front lawn of my friend's lavish summer home. Their mock sounds of pain set me on edge. A violent clash of toys imitate bombs and send the players sprawling a mere inch back, fingers and toes still intact.
Slowly I watch the little soliders seperate. The boys of today find their enemies of tommorrow in an almost indiscriminate way. "You're the bad guy!" August's boy proclaims and Martin's boy shoots back, "Why do I gotta be the bad guy!"
"Because you're the bad guy! Stop being such a baby!"
Their game is black and white. Bad is bad. Good is good. There is no detailing or shade of grey. No space for doubt in the war they play a part of. I scoff for war is no game. I can leave my home a hero possibly today and find myself to be my own enemy tommorrow for every bullet chamber I emptied into some unfortunate man's chest.
"Time for dinner!"
The little soliders march into my friend's blood money estate. I pretend to forget the game for war and all t
Black and White TragedyThe angel offered a forced smile at her reflection in the piano. It morphed slowly to show her a frown and she touched her face. No smile. She was losing her head again. Her eyes turned to the keys. Black and white. They were so simple in contrast to her reflection, vivid colors against the polished body of the piano.
Angel bowed her head respectfully as she looked down to look at her hands. They lay so gently on the keys. She took a deep inhale and closed her eyes. She pressed the first key. Off. A little too high. Her brows furrowed as continued to clink her way through the notes until she found what she was looking for.
A soft. Tadume. A noise she couldn’t describe with words or even a hum. Angel smiled a little as she tapped out a tune. Gentle and melancholy in nature and suddenly she stopped.
Her mouth opened hesitantly. What would she sing? Angel’s eyes opened and she could see Michael’s picture sitting on the piano. No care in the world. Just a big smile and bi
I was someone onceI was being born in reverse. Every nick and scratch that once made me, me, was gone. The memories. The people. Gone. I was freshly confused by my existence and instead of being conceived as a babe in my mother's womb I was born a young adult; stripped of personality but not of my worldly knowledge. Being left void of who I was made me cry out to the ears that would listen.
Ivy's Icy Ice Water Bucket ChallengeSometimes, we think up some crazy ideas. And some of those crazy ideas turn out to help out people in need. This is the tale of one Cryomaniac's idea.
Ivy was in her room, watching some Lets Plays on a computer. She had an ice cream cone next to it.
Hmm... Castlevania 2 by the Game Grumps sounds like a good play to watch..." Ivy said, smiling and taking a bite of her ice cream.
As she clicked on the video, the traditional 'Game Grumps' introduction began, and afterwards, Arin said 'Welcome.'
As the video continued, the grumps called Simon's Quest the 'best game ever made', obviously in a sarcastic fashion, and after about a minute, the playthough began.
Ivy then noticed one of the Grumps' videos being labeled "Ice Water Bucket Challenge".
"Hello, what's this?" Ivy asked herself. "Ice Water Challenge? Sounds intriguing..."
She clicked on the video, and saw all five of the grumps fill up buckets of ice water in orange buckets. After Arin and Danny sarcastically talked about the ch
thanks for the ideareport: :iconFateofHeartsplz:
hey who says we can't post screenshots
one guy did so why can't we
Your life in the Mansion-Ben DrownedYour walking in the wood for some apparent reason. I saw you and started spying for a while until you spotted Slender and you were running in my direction. I panicked and I started walking a different direction and you run into me. You look at me and I look at you.
"Do you like video games" I ask. But Slender appears and you black out "really Slender" Then Slender picked you up and I followed him back to the mansion. When you wake up I am sitting there which made you Jump.
"Again, Do you like video games" I asked getting closer. You nodded and I dragged you down stairs and Slender saw you and got up from his seat and followed you and me. I was about to bring you into the game room but Slender stopped you. "What's wrong slender, she likes games so I am letting her play brawl with me" He shook his head and told all of Creepypasta's to the main room. We did intoductions and I was about to bring you back to the game room but I saw Jeff bring you upstairs. Which p
Planes: Evil BabyIf there was one thing Andy liked about being an uncle, was that when his nephew was under his care, it was ample time to mess with his brother and no retaliation that he could foresee.
Of course watching Jett, was fun, he loved his nephew with all of his heart and loved to help out when he can. He took good care of him, made him laugh and smile.
But of course, Andy still had ulterior motives at times.
One being when Dusty and Ishani were both competing in a race, Dusty’s parents and his siblings as a result had the care of Jett while they were gone.
And so the plan began.
Jett was at a stage where he would mimic sounds and try to sound out words he heard. So Andy began showing him a sound from an old movie, that was terrifying in the dead of night.
A type of sound that was a mix of croaking and gasping for air. It took only a few hours when Andy was alone with the baby while Brody and Lynn had to take Olivia to a doctor’s appointment, to teach him it.
When Dusty came to co
Billy--A Short StoryThe large brown dog sat quietly on the couch, wondering what his owner and the other person were talking about, as he sniffed the letter with all those little black markings. For the life of him, he knew each was different from the other, but could never pick out what it was.
He heard her shout. He heard his name too. “…Billy…” The yelling stopped, and the dog could no longer perceive what was being said, even with his superior hearing. There was something strange about the tone it was used in. Was it anger? Was it said in defense? It was different from how it was usually used; occasionally in a peculiar sense of nostalgia, or even sadness. It was as if the name was not directed at him at those times. Mainly it was a voice also used on the thing that lives in the cage at night. Unlike it, he gets the laundry room all to himself. Sometimes that darkness is unbearable though, and he was pretty sure the other thing had light, but he wasn’t sure, since he neve
Kouta: Part 4 [Early Frost]The winter had come early. And with it, a rapid decline in business. Most travelers avoided all but the main road, and merchants could not lead their carts on a path unpaved with stone, for they could easily get stuck in thick mud and snow slurry that form so often. As the days grew colder and colder, Kouta spent more time indoors, willing the hours to pass in his boredom. Even in his heavy winter clothes, he would still be cold in this kind of weather, so he waited, and waited, for time to pass. Simple card games, whittling of wood, throwing darts helped at times, but only long enough to decide on what to do next.
Dani spent his eves outside though, tending to the snow that built up so quickly. The roof creaked loudly after a harsh snowfall, and the wooden walls would crack if not properly protected from the elements. While his wife and son did not share the sentiment, he loved winter. The cold made him feel alive, the tingling of his skin that awoke him, the chill of a deep breath in
Tickling and Torturing Toddler Part 1In the far future, much has changed, technology has improved and human nature has become more cocky, ant-social, materialistic, selfish and most of all, sadistic. So many things have changed, there was little to no plant-life or wild-life and where there was it was extremely dangerous so no one dared go there, people valued technology and money than the lives of their fellow human beings and people had become a lot more judgmental. But, despite this, one person remained kind-hearted, nature-loving, caring and generally very nice and selfless people. This person was a boy named Hexord "Hex" Thart. But even though this boy seemed to be the perfect saint, he had his quirks and a small dark side. Hex had an obsession, this involving the feet of females. He was almost always gawking at girls feet, and marveled at how their toes wiggled and how their soles scrunched. He dreamed and fantasized of getting to be the cause of all that wiggling of toes and scrunching of soles, in his fantasies, t
Stupid Cheshire...The night was silent save for the sound of the IEs rapid running, it's feet/hooves slamming onto the ground. And what was the sole feeling that was working it to such a fast pace in such a tranquil enviroment? Pure irritation.
And the source of said irritation was floating unconscious and out of her reach.
Pandora was a fast and resourceful creature. But she was more built for endurance than speed and the terrain wasn't favourable, especially when trying to catch something that she couldn't here the footsteps of.
Dollhouse~All families are like Dollhouses, yes? When everyone is around, we are known as the "Perfect Family". No one should ever open the curtains on a Dollhouse Family. If they know what is good for them because sometimes... the truth hurts.
On the outside of this, Dollhouse family, Dad is a hardworking man who provides for his family by working day in and day out. Mom is a lovable housewife who takes care of her children and making sure they are tended to. Brother is a intelligent student who gets great grades and provides help for the neighbor hood kids. Sister is a lovely girl who also achieves greatly in school.
Behind the curtains, Dad is sleeping with a slut day in and day out. Because of this, he has neglected his job and is about to have his family evicted. Mom is a raging alcoholic to deal with Dads infidelity. She works at a strip club at night in order to pay the bills and make sure her kids are tended to. Brother smokes pot and lies about his grades. Making an f into an A from a g
Bullshit"I'm sorry that you're such a bullshit excuse for a human," I mused as I tried to eat my food. The girl across from me looks at me like she's fuckin' Bambi or some shit. "You're bullshit baby, all nice and full of it. You suck at art, you suck at fucking and you suck at life." Amused I watch her cry and I don't really feel anything because I can't. What happened to me? Why am I like this? "You're disgusting," I tell her, "Go fucking clean yourself up." I roll my eyes and leave my half-empty plate. I swear to God I use to be a good person. Then again I don't believe in that bullshit either.
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More