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ShipsPassing ships. I think thats the term used most appropriately. To describe our brief encounter. Our quick lesion. Romantic language for confused feelings of body and heart. A passionate beginning of words and lips, passed and flowed through. Soon the sea grew, complex ocean of currents uncharted. For me at least. The north, the city of pink grey stone confusion of morals I found hard to anchor. I thought wed settle happily into the mariner. But no. A storm of interest, but yours whimpered in the wind, dissolved and dissipated. A brief moment passed as I was left stranded, trapped in sea weed entrails and coils complex. Emotions for the ship that passed me in a brief encounter of quick intentions. Gone with the wind, rather than constant like salt and rock, hard and concrete.
A DestinationYou were the upgraded copy, the richer version, the easy distraction. Id been consumed for hours over the alluded obsession, the favored stature that was a stranger to my tastes. Id thought and Id concluded, escapism or a plan, either to satisfy.
A plan set in motion, a destination. A train, another, a wait, and you. I came for the other, but found my eyes wondering. In that silver, those jeans, that voice. An escape and an excuse. Easy, no? The right moment, the right place, the right hour. The alcohol and the dress. Why not? I could have this version, this smile, this stature.
Why not indeed. A bad idea, a mistaken moment, a plan unraveled in pleasure and excitement, hurt pride and bruised ecstasy. Youth and naivety, for me. You werent what I wanted, even though I repeated it many times. I used your carbon copy aesthetic as much as you used my easy, drunken attitude. It was one night dragged over three days. I latched on to the version that let me,
ObsessionObsession. Its an easy thing to fall into, and an even harder hole to escape.
I liked you once. Quite a lot actually. Despite the fact that my best interests told me you were a bad idea. Your texture didnt suit my tastes, your stature was nothing I ever thought Id favor. And yet I fell after you happily, made a fool of myself mostly.
Its gone now. I found closure in a drunken night and a single bed. In spilled words of oppressed months, inappropriate affection and rejected touch. It was awkward, embarrassing, but satisfying. And then there was the exhibition and the appropriate obsession. And yet, I still like to think.
Your name makes me turn my head, your silhouette and sound will always make me listen. Its hard to completely remove myself from the half whole I once so happily sat in, wallowed in, and would have drowned in. A beguiling puddle of self pity and complete and alluded infatuation.
Im still jealous, with no reason to be. I still reminisce on things that n
A few years gone by...Wake up. Get to work. Get home. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Every day of my life. It's so boring. Where's the thrill, where's the excitement? The passion? The love? My life is so dull but so full of problems. Like the depression I'm still fighting. The self harm I never managed to completely overcome (oh God, the scars all over me. So ugly...). The memories of a rough past, keeping me up at night. Only one thing keeps me going. The online life I've been building for so long. The friends I've made there. The sweet and kind words, the wonderful things I got so see and read. The things I made myself that make me proud. My real life is a bore but my Internet life makes up for it.
30 Trans QnA
1) When did you realize the term transgender referred to you?
well when I was younger I was always considered a tomboy. Instead of barbies and dolls I would play with trucks and pokemon(I actually know how to play the card game). Anyways I had my hair all boyish and had a whole bunch of guy friends, all that fun stuff. Later I started to wonder what it would be like if I were a guy and have dreams of being a guy. Early 2013 I had a break down about how I'm not a guy and I cut off all my hair crying. Then after a while I learned about what genderfluid is (thanks Nick). So I started labeling myself as that and was okay. Though when I looked into the mirror and saw a girl and was so upset. FINALLY I was done from people calling me a lady, because I just stopped feeling like a girl I felt like a guy 95% of the time, so I just say I'm trans.
2) How did you choose your name, and what names were you thinking about using and why?
Well I actually changed it 4 times. Before I came
The Rain ChildWhen I was younger, I longed for independence because with independence came solitude. Something that reminded me of my unique childhood…
I remember when I was just a little boy and every time it would rain, I found myself staring out of the window for hours and hours contently watching the rain run down the side of the house where it gathered into a great big puddle on the uneven pavement. I would listen to the droplets as the hit metal gutter and I’ll never forget its melodic tune. It’s hard to say that I was an average child: I saw puddles but I did not long to disturb them. I did not wish to jump in them; however, if I did wish to bother the puddle, it would be only by me sticking my finger in it quickly to watch the ripples slowly disband.
Every night that it would rain, I found myself unable to sleep. This was not because I thought the rain was disruptive, but because I was intrigued. Oh, how I longed to be on the city streets with nothing on more than my old b
Vis de o noapteaEra noapte si calatoream cu trenul. Stiam ca trebuie sa ajung la doar o statie distanta si totusi cautam un loc sa ma asez in ultimul vagon. Era plin de lume si zarva desi nu reuseam sa vad chipurile lor, iar eu paseam printre ei zambind, cu ochii in pamant si vorbind cu o prietena veche la telefon. Cautam un loc sa ma asez si printre multimea de oameni si locuri ocupate te-am zarit pe tine. Tu nu m-ai observat. Trecusem deja de tine, neatent fiind si tarziu realizand ca esti tu. M-am oprit pentru o clipa in loc, m-am intors si te-am privit. Te cunoasteam, dar nu erai tu. Pareai schimbata. Erai trista si parca ceva te macina, iar privirea iti era pierduta in mizeria ce se intindea pe podea.
"Alo" se aude in telefon."Mai esti acolo"
Am realiza ca trecusera cateva clipe fara sa zic nimic...
"Da, scuze am vazut un chip care mi-a atras atentia"
La fel cum vocea mea atrasase atentia ta. Aveai ochii in lacrimi, iar fata iti parea lipsita de viata. M-ai privit mirata. Ai vrut sa imi vorbesti
My First Sole Kiss
MY FIRST SOLE KISS
Honestly, I have not a real date when it happened, but I was seven or eight years old. Her name was (or is, I don’t know nothing about her) Patricia, and she was 18 years old, she was the maid of the house, with long black hair, not fat, not thin; she had the features of a native girl, strong taino roots are in her physic. Patricia used to work as maid in my hose from 8 of the morning to 5 of the evening, Mondays to Saturdays; Saturdays she worked only to midday.
When I arrived from school at midday, Patricia has made almost all of her duties. When I eat my meal, and watched some cartoons, my dad went to work and I stood at home with my grandma and Patricia, alone. Patricia, when was doing the cleaning of the floor with the broom and the swapper, usually was barefoot, and usually stood that way when everyone (adults) left home for work.
Patricia was very kind with me, always talking to me, playing with me, so we created a friendship and a trust very uniqu
Watercolor paints, dA had a spotlight on them. They can be used beautifully, magically, and so wonderfully.
However, I must confess; I am terrified of using watercolor paints. Yes, I am terrified. I don't why and I don't care.
Perhaps, perhaps it is due to my experiences in school. When we did get art lessons in elementary school, few and far between as they were, it was inevitably using watercolor paints. Crayola brand, white case. Now, when you watercolor paint it is a good idea to have a cup of water nearby to clean and wet your brushes. So, the teacher would hand out red solo cups half filled with water which we would then place on the corner of our desks. The teacher would warn us not to spill the water, as the entire floor was carpeted and we didn't need mold growing.
I'm a natural klutz, if I could actually walk without support I'd probably trip every two inches and I'm
Un nuevo Comienzo en Equestria capitulo 10Hola amigos estoy devuelta aquí en DeviantART, una vez mas lo siento por el atraso pero no les aburriré con lo que paso los dejare con Mi Fanfic
Un nuevo Comienzo en Equestria
Capitulo 10 Los elementos de la Armonia
Previmente en My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic-Rank incluido
Twilight: YO… vengo de…. Canterlot
Rank: solo es muy timida
Rank: Entramos por atras?
Fluttershy: Seria lo mas prudente
Rank: Mi Reina Nightmare Moon permitame unirme a usted para gobernar en la noche eterna
Nightmare Moon: Recuerden este dia por que es el ultimo, apartir de ahora la NOCHE DURARA PARA SIEMPRE
Rank/Nightmare Moon: JAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAJA
neun.Einmal hatten wir ein paar aus unserer Klasse eingeladen. „Wir“ heisst Till und ich, und „ein paar“ heisst auch Mädchen. Wir wollten Pretty Woman sehen, aber Till war natürlich dagegen. Till wollte Top Gun. Er zog mich beiseite, um mich zu warnen. Till hatte Pretty Woman schon gesehen und wusste darum, dass es eine Kussszene auf einem Klavier gibt, die viel zu gewagt sei für eine solche Gesellschaft. Aber Luzia war auch dabei und so war Till schliesslich in der Minderheit. Luzia hat ja jetzt auch ein Kind, seit langem schon eigentlich. Tja, das waren damals die Modis, die man mal mehr und mal viel mehr erfolglos umwurbte. Beatrice war auch so eine. Da staunte ich natürlich nicht schlecht, als ausgerechnet Till ein paar Wochen später plötzlich mit ihr rumknutschte, zwar nicht auf einem Klavier, aber auf einer Party.
Es war Till, der mich schliesslich ermutigte, den Brief zu schreiben. Ein Liebesbrief sah damals standardmässig et
Stream of Consciousness IHot water, yellow walls, yellow tops, giraffes, penguins. Purple shirts and cadged squirrels. Blue eyes, and messy hair. Burst balloons, scissors and inappropriate behavior. Waiting, anticipating. Cheap wine and loosened tongues. Orange, doctors, tenants and hills, smells.
We indulge, publicly, inappropriately, insultingly, without care or consideration. Disgusting affection. Tongue, lips, ears, nose.
We indulge in our laughter and words, alcohol and kisses.
Sober, little sleep. Big head phones and bigger suitcases. Coffee, morning, newspapers. White walls and carved tables. Shy kisses, lips, tongue, nose. Good byes, and promises in given books.
You are the one I dreamed of. But dont I always dream and fall easily? At least this time my obsession was picked more appropriately.
Swaying walls, blue light. Bed and towels, dripping skin. Sweat or water? Beating heart and pumping pulse, legs and arms and loud in my ears. Sleepy eyes and captured thoughts. Too much time to s
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More