*cries*
*dies*


Ten years ago, I...Ten years ago, I watched a writer die. They dont die like normal people Normal people are angry, or content; Poignancy defines a writers death. You shoot them and they bleed creativity. Prose runs like wine from the wound, You watch as it trickles,Ten years ago, I...
Like hot glass,
Across the floor,
Towards the ink,
Towards the door, Across the paper. As it mixes there, you can taste it; Pepper and cherries, from the veins of the writer. It smells like burnt roses and sweat. And as they bleed, writers begin to age Eyes of rust and words
| I'm the pinnacle of deviantART Lurking technology. If you actually see me post or comment, you might want to call some newspapers... or perhaps some paranormal investigators. The stuff I do post here is mostly fractal, but that's not really my field any more. I still enjoy it, but the time I don't spend on school stuff I spend doing websites, t-shirts (mostly vector stuff), and writing. |
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I really don't have time make a signature... so i will sing
~lizardsinrainforest's Twin Sister
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[link]
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There's a moment after you cast the die but before it hits the table - breathe wrong and you'll change the way it lands.
*Apophysis | =ImagersFractalDDs | ~DeviousFractals
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People are like sausages: it's what's under the skin that's important. So poke them with a stick periodically.
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There's a moment after you cast the die but before it hits the table - breathe wrong and you'll change the way it lands.
*Apophysis | =ImagersFractalDDs | ~DeviousFractals
But herrow... See you tomorrow!
Anyway ... hello.
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There's a moment after you cast the die but before it hits the table - breathe wrong and you'll change the way it lands.
*Apophysis | =ImagersFractalDDs | ~DeviousFractals
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