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N E E D L E S SWhy man, why the consent of names? Why the power to place periods over endless things?
Why label words when you know nothing? We are prophets, theorists, dreamers, we are amalgams of sorts. Names grant us limits, boundaries. We not only play with our hands, we play with thoughts. We grope not for your judgment, yet we ask for your concern.
I have become reckless. I have fallen for foolish things, for irrational beliefs, yet those beliefs are my own. I embrace love like smoke in my lungs, cling to it like a mound of winter in my arms, fed it like a leech in my bosom. Yet do not judge me, do not throng me with whispers, with insults. Do not c
Atypical InterrelationsArtists are still unavoidably separated by commas, by distinctions. Though those who generalize them would believe they are familiar of the human psyche, they will still find themselves perplexed on how the diverse works. The artistic is still a haven of thoughts in clockwork, segregated in levels from the basic to the most extreme, or the familiar to the most confusing.
I still cannot relate how much this works, yet I find the skilled different to the challenged, the technical to the defiant, and the tranquil to the unruly. The expressions of the thought have gained their extremities on the corruption of their minds. Those who remain quiet
Medea, A PoemYears could no longer place us here
Driven by two thorns I can no longer feel my face
And you can see me walk so sadly by you
And then you'll see me walk away
Do you feel so deafened
Because I'm listening to silence now
And it pierces so much it hurts me
When you smile, because your smile's not meant for me
Not enough that I have never left you
Not enough that I bled so much I died
Not enough that I was meant this way
Not enough, in this silence... where I cried
"You have my skin to burn
You have my entrails to open fire
But not my heart to feed your empathy
Because pity only sickens me!"
Wait no longer for this decay
The TypewriterThe Typewriter
It began and ended with a word.
Not a particularly strong or powerful word, but a word that changed everything. It wasn't too long or difficult to spell. It wasn't uncommon either. In fact, it was a perfectly ordinary word, but, I suppose, its commonplace origin is what made it so special.
I loved that word.
But the word doesn't mean much without the story along with it and I was always one for telling good stories.
I ignored the call from the other room and remained seated. That tone wasn't unfamiliar. Taking a bite from my toast, I waited for him to call again. It wouldn't be more than ten—
"Sammy! Come q
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More