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RealityThere's a very strange irony that surrounds my "Introvert" pieces. I write them; I post them online. I have a link to my deviantArt profile on my facebook page. But somehow... I don't really expect people to read them.
Yes, I know that technically my followers here are "people", but you're people from Ireland. America. Europe. Australia. South America. Canada. It'd be great to meet you guys, but I doubt I ever will. By "people", I mean those I actually know and hang out with outside the internet. Most of my "real life" friends don't dig through my account here. Frankly, I doubt that they even dig through my account on facebook!
So it was a bit of a shock to have one of said friends walk up to me and start talking about my last piece, Soul Stealer. I've been wondering ever since... how much of my work has he read?
Let me first say that there are several extenuating circumstances. The friend in question is very likely reading this piece as well, since he's a writer/ artist/ musician with
Over the weekend, I’ve heard the word thrown more than once in my direction. It’s well-earned, I know. For years, ever since I first held a camera, I’ve loved to take shots of people I know- and even those I don’t- in unguarded moments. A laugh as they talk with friends. Just walking across the room. Dancing with their other half. Bending over and cooing at a friend’s newborn. I just love those pictures.
Of course, because they’re taken unaware, people object. I guess they see the camera as invading on private moments- even when it’s not exactly “private”. I can understand…. But I still can’t stop. It’s like a fire, an impulse I can’t control, this need to capture their images as they go about their lives. Over the past weekend, I’ve had some time to sit down and, for the first time, think of why.
I detest posing for photographs- have I ever mentioned that? My head looks strange, my features
WaitingShe watched the blood spread out from his fallen body. The gun was so heavy in her tiny hand, the steel burning her poor palms just as she'd known it would, but she couldn't seem to put it down. Instead, she sat on the carpet, the heavy black gun wobbling slightly as she still held it on him.
Just in case.
Her ears were still ringing from the blast- vaguely, she wondered at the silence. It was never silent in this place. Someone was always yelling. Crying. Complaining. She was the only quiet one.
But now he was quiet too.
The carpet itched the backs of her bare legs- by reflex, she began to draw them to her chest.
The gun finally dropped as she whimpered and clutched an arm to her chest. Had he broken something inside again? Maybe this time he'd let Moira take care of her. Moira could take care of anything
But maybe maybe she could sneak out and go to her while he was lying there? She could reach the door in less than a minute; be back in less than fi
MistakesTenzin sat alone in the darkness, mind in turmoil.
He had always known this day would come. When he would have to face the full folly of his youthful mistakes.
Korra's recent news confirmed what he had feared for a very long time. That his past indiscretions with the one he once called friend had led to tragedy. He couldn't tell Korra the truth. Not yet.
Hopefully, not ever.
His eyes drifted shut as the images flashed by.
Hearing the tale of the Lion Turtle from his father.
Being persuaded to accompany a group of the airbending students to a local tavern.
A single night of allowing them to persuade him to try the fire whiskey. Just try it
The Lion Turtle. It was supposed to be a secret, held in trust for the next Avatar. Instead, in one night
His eyes opened, half-glad to see Pema walking- actually, these days it was more of a waddle- towards him. Not that he was going to tell her that. After three kids, a man began to learn.
"Are you okay? You've been out here a
GoodbyesThey say that you can't truly get to know someone over the internet.
That, in my case, is very true. I throw up so many barriers and false images that not even those who believe they know me best online know me at all.
Although sometimes, they do surprise me.
So maybe they know me better than I thought they would.
But I digress. That debate- as to whether you can truly get to know someone you've never actually met, whether you can grow to care about them as you would anyone else, can be raged another time. But right now, I want no part of it. Because I know that those who deny the power of internet friendships simply have no idea what fellowship can do.
They can open your mind to unexplored planes.
They can bring you comfort and laughter in the darkest hours.
They can remind you to stop and look before it all goes away.
They can remind you that today just might be your last day.
Some time ago, I joined a website called FooPets. It featured realistic(ish) dogs and cats that you could pe
AsleepShe was fast asleep.
Golden eyes hidden by closed lids, paws and tail still.
Such a gorgeous bundle of white, I thought as I stared at my two year old Persian cat, Juno. So peaceful in sleep. Such a touching sight.
I looked around the room. The curtains were torn in long, jagged shreds. The few ornaments I'd left out now lay on the floor; a shattered vase and spreading pool of water creating a dark circle in my cream shag carpets. The cushions of the sofa were damaged- possibly beyond repair.
I looked back at the sleeping Juno as her tail twitched. One large eye opened, staring straight at me. She rose. Walked away.
Note to self: never leave brand-new cats alone in a cluttered house.
After the matchThey had won.
Mako sat as he often did when he wanted to think- in one of the windows in the attic of the arena he and Bolin now called home.
This time, however, his mind and gaze were not on his brother's latest bit of trouble, or on the storm he could sense brewing all around them as the Anti-Bending movement grew more and more powerful.
Well, he thought as he stared at the island the Avatar called home, he was thinking of the storm, in a way. And he and Bolin had most likely been pulled straight into it.
They had won the match. They were still in the game. But at what cost?
The Avatar, of all people. Why did she have to be the one they ended up with as a team mate? He still couldn't believe he'd insulted her like that. And he didn't even want to think of the big red targets that had most likely been painted on his and Bolin's backs. At least, he thought with a sigh, the girl could fight. Although he was worried about that for a while.
Maybe it would turn out to
What could beEveryone has bad days, don't they?
Today wasn't a particularly bad one. God knows, I've lived through much worse. But there are those days when every little thing seems to remind you of darker times. Every little irritant seems ten times larger. And it all keeps growing and growing and growing until you're not sure what you're thinking or why or who you're more furious at: them, or yourself.
Today was one of those days.
On days like these, there are few things that can really help. And right now, I choose to dream.
My dream is a remarkably simple one. A small house, probably painted off-white with light purple trim. One bedroom- with a bathroom large enough for a shower and tub. An open space so that my kitchen, living room and dining room can flow into each other in whatever manner I wish. Pictures all over. Some will be my nature shots. A room for my study: computer, large desk, and lots of bookshelves. There's a huge pet bed in that corner, and a couple smaller ones nearby.
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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