Original works, poems, anything that isn't "fan fic" is under here.
Soul Stealer by myah5000, literature
Literature
Soul Stealer
Paparazzi.
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&hel
How Avatar: the Last Airbender impacted me. by TheStoryNeverEnds, literature
Literature
How Avatar: the Last Airbender impacted me.
As a Christian, I was raised to believe that God can speak to us through anything. I never really doubted that, but I guess I always assumed that anything bearing a message from God would go somewhere along the lines of a burning bush or a pillar of smoke; something powerful, enigmatic, and unexplainable any other way.
What I've learned in the past two year is that, a lot of times, the things that have the biggest impact in our lives come in the most unassuming forms. They're the mundane parts of your average routine, the things you experience in everyday life to which you never pay any mind. Little things like the grumpy old sales clerk, th
I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I have to remember to breathe every time those words come, I dont want to believe it. I still cant believe it. I remember the first time my counselor looked at me and told me that my depression and anxiety might be something more. Great, I thought, What could possibly be worse than this?
Firstly, PTSD is not a disorder that only affects our war heroes, though that is what its commonly associated with. My own first thoughts were: isnt that a disorder for war veterans or someone who witnessed war first-hand? The truth is there are many causes for Post Traumatic Stress
Everyone 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 ba
I do not do poetry
The words I can not Rhyme
I can't seem to get them out,
I might as well do Mime.
My thoughts are rough and jumbled.
My stanzas lack all timing
And talk about my syllables,
Up walls the critics climbing!
No, poetry is not my thing
It's not what people think.
It's how they read it and then say,
"Man, you really stink."
Crit Ticks for the Critics by nycterent, literature
Literature
Crit Ticks for the Critics
"He has the right to criticize who has the heart to help." - Abraham Lincoln
Introduction:
You've read guides, you've heard the propaganda, and now there's no going back. You've decided: "I want to write critiques too!"
Looking out over the gray expanse of dA, you spot a poem. Or a photograph. Or a juicy piece of digital art, and you know exactly what you want to say. Or maybe you don't, but you slog through, making the effort. And voila! A click and you navigate away, grinning, imagining the artist's delight when the deviant opens his or her message center upon the next log-in.
You left a critique, whether as a "critique" or in a comment