I am still around, watching all my favourite deviants and never ceasing to be amazed by the quality of work I find on this website. It is truly inspiring.
All in all, life is good.
channels

utteranceYou always try to be kind But what's really on your mind? The sense of lost time, divine, Wasting all my feelings, painful, sublime. In the net of my thoughts, ensnarled Emotions twisted, furled and gnarled A net and a web, two thoughts so lost, A dead body lost in the cold, shining with tears and frost. The corpse is abandoned, from a love once feltutterance
An empty shell, the place where my heart once dwelt Murderer unseen, darkness shed, Bloodstained tears on which you fed. Serene ambience torn out of my life Now all I've been left is struggle and strife And pain


GimmickryEloquence Or lack thereof, Appealing to the masses. The hall transforms, Becoming an unsterile place Contagious gimmickry, Dry humour that infects. The virus attacks, Knocking most Off of the Fence. Conformity becomes a mass epidemic Dedication, integrity And honesty Are worthless when compared To broken promises, Falsehoods overshadowed By artless charisma. Democracy, Or popularity contest?Gimmickry
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"There is room for different point of view, different style, no matter how good of a photographer you are" 'gilad
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we all die. the goal isn't to live forever, the goal is to create something that will.
--
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We must learn to love frogs even if they don't change when we kiss them!
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we all die. the goal isn't to live forever, the goal is to create something that will.
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-Run To The Ocean.net
-My Sketch Blog
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It's not really cold out until the dog has frozen himself to the fire hydrant.
-Jewel
"And he said "Thank you, please
but your flattery
is truly not
becoming me.
Your eyes are poor.
You are blind.
You see,
no beauty
could have come from me.
I am a waste
of breath,
of space,
of time."
--
"As I hide behind these books I read, while scribbling my poetry, like art could save a wretch like me, with some ideal ideology that no one can hope to achieve. And I am never real; it is just a sketch of me."
-Jewel
"And he said "Thank you, please
but your flattery
is truly not
becoming me.
Your eyes are poor.
You are blind.
You see,
no beauty
could have come from me.
I am a waste
of breath,
of space,
of time."
--
"As I hide behind these books I read, while scribbling my poetry, like art could save a wretch like me, with some ideal ideology that no one can hope to achieve. And I am never real; it is just a sketch of me."
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