I LIVE!I write, now. And nobody ever reads writing, on deviantart, so I give up.
Friends? Romans? Countrymen? Find me on LJ: [link]
...I have had this deviantart account for an unreasonably long time. Its kind of scary.
Tootle oo for another five years!
Newest
Ink Darkly1:11Ink Darkly
This is an exercise in reflection. What is the page but a mirror? You read to lose yourself in words. Yet whilst navigating the white spaces between the black imprints, whilst translating the ink marks into images, you stumble across a you you have forgotten. Perhaps a you you have abandoned. Perhaps an ideal you. Perhaps a monstrous you. You come across yourself in this thicket of prose unexpectedly, as if by magic. The author is like a stage magician, s/he pulls back the flimsy curtain (the story, the imagined construct) and with a gle
by ~gachigon
Pony ClubIPony Club
They stand, abandoned at the gates Each morning, little girls In polished boots and hats; Armour against the warm hide and The fall.
Their mothers, Pearl-eyed and pale in the morning sun Do not look back. They slide Fish-like into their chrome and leather shells, Longing for the understated Click of the car door, the flip of a switch; Family to Freedom.
The little girls don’t cry. Like small wives their hearts Are learning to become vast And empty.
I see these girls, Mount gently curving bac
by ~gachigon
Random TankaThe frost gathers on the glass between you and I: there is a coldness that echoes around the dusty paths of old conversationsRandom Tanka
by ~gachigon
Sonnet 408His veins are dim canals that twist, and turn. A labyrinth of blood, a mirrored path, That ushers me toward the silent burn Of sixty candles, glowing in his hearth.Sonnet 408
He does not see me raise my hand, nor press My sickly fingers to the window pane. He stands, a statue, cold to my distress As shards of glass lodge in my eyes again.
And as I, bleeding, turn to make my way Down iron-scented avenues of lies I contemplate the way he'd smile, and say that eager hearts were something to despise.
If I were wise, then blinded, I would see like some Greek H
by ~gachigon
Favourites
deviantID
Devious Info
- Current Residence: The Amber Trap
- Interests: victoriana, antiques, hair dye, the occult
- Favourite movie: Garden State, Donnie Darko, Penelope
- Favourite band or musician: Placebo, Concrete Blonde, Jack off Jill, HIM, The Shins
- Favourite genre of music: industrial, rock, eighties pop, nineties pop, dark wave, whatever
- Favourite artist: I like what I like.
- Favourite poet or writer: Yeats, Baudelaire, Margaret Atwood, Byron, Francesca Lia Block, Anne Rice
- Favourite photographer: My Emmy.
- Favourite cartoon character: Sonic the hedgehog
- Tools of the Trade: Memory.
- Website: http://www.ravenoak.org
- Email: anime_insane@hotmail.com
- AIM: CthulhuDeus
- MSN: anime_insane@hotmail.com
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"Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy. "
William Butler Yeats 1865-1939
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-Mrs Thompson
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~ It is impossible to make anything foolproof because fools are so ingenious.
come back and use this accouunttt. *whinge*
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-Mrs Thompson
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I AM DOUG, AND DOUG MEANS ME!
I protect Peace and Justice in the DA galaxy.
I am the STAR WARS SMURF!
Serial # SOG-777-DDV-04
I'M WITH THE YELLOW ALIEN
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"when you were born you were crying and everyone else was smiling, live your life right so that when you die you're smiling and everyone around you is crying"
-anonymous
feminism is the radical notion that women are people
-does a little dance-
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all these squawking birds won't quit.
building nothing, laying bricks.
<img src="http://a.deviantart.com/avatars/s/l/slytherin.gif">
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all these squawking birds won't quit.
building nothing, laying bricks.
<img src="http://a.deviantart.com/avatars/s/l/slytherin.gif">
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