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Timeline DraftI'm not good at timelines of my life
Since the more and more I think
The more all seems important
Yet somehow, on the other hand
The things that once meant something
Pale in comparison to my latest triumphs
That's not to say I'm particularly heroic or successful
But life just works this way
This isn't helpful, I know
So I may as well try-
I was born, of course
I had a dog named Duchess
I watched my favorite movie for the first time
I spent lots of time with my grandparents, both sides
I met my surrogate brother
I read my favorite book three times in a row.
I decided to be a writer.
I watched lots of Disney, though I have throughout.
I got a dog named Morgan; she's the best puppy in the universe.
I went to an awful school, but survived it.
My mom and I moved away from my dad.
I finished writing my first book; it sucked.
I was introduced to my dream role; she still has my heart.
I then went to a beautiful school.
I met my hero, who ta
Hidden Impact PrologueOhh- I love this woman-
She stopped me at the height of pretense and said-
"If you're too self indulgent in emotion-
It makes the art not-so-good."
As much as I'd like to temper-tantrum and disagree, as a younger me would-
I know she's right in some cases.
I'm fully aware of my own pretentiousness.
"In those cases you just absorb your own energy"
It's like what some say-
That crying onstage is just like masturbation-
But I'm ready to push myself to the brink anyways.
That's why I stress openness.
I'd like to hand out my internal organs out like animal-crackers
Feed the audience like Seagulls
But I'm selfish and self-absorbed.
On one hand I think I need to be
I've already spent too much time closeted and apologetic.
But I cannot turn into the sort who takes art and calls it Godly.
Art is Godly, but not my own.
Art in and of itself-
It is like love and truth and beauty-
Huge unattainable treasures that float past in metaphysical realms.
I can grasp what I make, stil
Bright Red Cherry Cotton Candy WorldI'm glad God gave me something to dislike about you-
Because, as you know, I was head over heels about your essence-
But now to know your core beliefs differ so radically from what I hold dear-
It makes me happy-
I've escaped your charismatic spell-
You're no longer angelic in my mind-
And that's phenomenal!
You know better than to think that means I dislike you-
You still have my heart more than most-
But, God, this feels like freedom!
You'll still be one of my not-so-imaginary friends.
But there's distance, now, where there wasn't before.
And I kind of want to spite you-
That's just the way I am, now please don't take it personally.
I'll still call you sweetheart and lovee and dear-
But my love is no longer blind
It sees blemishes upon your ganymede face, which separates you from the godly.
And I'll seek out the opposition, since that is where my heart sits.
I'm content in my world of hypocrites and hippies!
I thrive here just as well as the world of vehemence and valor you cling so
JeannieSometimes I pretend I'm a decent well-adjusted adult
Which is all too certainly a falsity
Last night was a great example
While my friends posed as the legal age
And flirted with bartenders
I pretended to be pregnant to have a good justification not to drink
Plus I'm Jeannie, I kinda can't help that fact
Which is why, when my girl brought up Wendigos
All pretense flew out the window-
"You know what those are? I'm so excited- mostly I'm the one who tells people about them! Have you seen Skin and Bones? Of course you haven't, but you could! We should watch it! I'm being a Wendigo for Halloween- yes I know I look completely wrong- But I don't care! Wuuaghhh That's so exciting! We should take pictures on Halloween! We should take pictures now! I am SO excited for Halloween! Yes, of course you're sexy enough to be Poison Ivy! I'm not being sexy one bit- but I am going to attempt to look shirtless! Of course I've planned my costume, haven't you? I've been planned since last November! Oh- I'm
Glam SlamI've never had a girlfriend
And some think that makes my queerness somehow less valid
But I have so many lesbian love poems that I've written in the past
Last night when I looked through strange past eternities
I found myself thinking
Would these even count
Love proclaimed at straight girls who would merely run from me
Still they are
And art is art
And I am me
Though I may not have any proper evidence
I chose to speak something universal and happy
People like us are an odd conglomerate of sad injustice and triumphant joy
That's why I chose the latter
It's Queertopia all over again
Which is fabulous since I miss it already!
She Is, Like Many Adolescents, a ThanatophileI'm made of death and plastic
The concrete glows like sandstone
Y'know, as if it were real
I watch other people's pets and children as if they were my own.
Like Nick Caraway or something.
Their fractions of existence are just as secretly expansive as mine.
But I like not knowing.
It's probably the same reason why death fascinates me-
No one understands it-
It's the edge.
And I'm a thanatophile after all-
That's probably why He intrigues me as much as he does-
I don't know if I'd be as head over heels if he were alive
Or maybe I would be more-so
You never know, and that's my point.
But I keep on pushing-
Through art, of course-
I'm not all-out insane-
Though I have my moments, of course.
And I assure you-
One day I will fall.
But guess what-
It's worth it to fly as high as I can in pursuit of unanswerable questions.
Conjugally MatrimonifiedI had a dream
We were pirates
Neither are probable
Though I've been a pirate
And I don't doubt you'd elope
We just wouldn't do those things together
Though we'd do nearly everything else together
And that's how it should be
I suppose it proves how I miss you
Though I really shouldn't
Should or shouldn't doesn't make emotions any more or less valid, though
So I miss you
Since in my dream we were pirates who eloped
I mean, what else could that signify?
Burnt Baby HandsI burnt myself bad when I tried taking more that I deserve.
I remember that awful burn of independence.
But by all good reason I should be feeling it on a daily basis.
Maybe this is because I'm trying to save my lucky pennies.
Since they aren't even my own.
I'll get a deep red scar from this I'm sure.
And the spoils of my venture aren't nearly worth this.
But live and learn, I suppose.
And at least I try feigning self-sufficiency.
Cool as ClayI've begun to be okay with telling people my real name
And I don't know what that means for me-
Am I safer?
Am I stupider?
Am I more confident?
Or don't I care?
My real name is lovely, but it's not what I've built myself up as.
It relies on so many others-
Whereas when I am my not-so-secret identity-
I am completely my own.
Have I become content with not owning my identity?
Well, I suppose so, otherwise I wouldn't be where I am now.
And as I told her.
I am the clay-
And they are the sculptors-
But I am-
And always will be-
My own clay.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More