dreamscape-painter

Not worth your time.

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Aquifer by dreamscape-painter, literature

Suspension of Disbelief by dreamscape-painter, literature

Literature

Suspension of Disbelief

I watched a man sail across the surface of the sun, but it was hypothetical and so I forgave him. I watched him skim merrily, over crest and trough, through glowing mist that probably blinds more than it obscures. Now that would be a nice place to nest, thought I, as he nosed smoothly up to a sun spot, a sinkhole greater than any crater seen by human eyes, and arcing overhead not glinting metal claws, but swells of protective gravity and magnetism the size of Jupiter. Miniaturised black-hole, maelstrom my boat might fill. Or maybe I'd sail over a solar flare, and be launched deep into space, and past

We All Sinners by dreamscape-painter, literature

Literature

We All Sinners

That Old Girl came 'round today while I was tying my shoes; out of the blues, tie 'em in twos, and I'd say I was ready but I'd be shittin' you - and that ain't what I wanna do - but this time I saw her. Fer the skip of a heartbeat she was jes' like I found 'er, that miserable summer day back in oh-eight (oh-steven-what-did-you-do) , back when it was a HA-lay- LOOya and I ha-dlay knewya, but wann't she jes' shinin' like some turtle loved the chrome on an old daddy's caddy, rollin' like the King o' Rome (don' they call 'im a Seizer?) straight into my dome and all I could do was beg to please 'er. I saw that ol' bird to

Asynchronous by dreamscape-painter, literature

Literature

Asynchronous

I don't see much of her lately, but I know she's losing weight. She doesn't know that I have noticed, but it's there more than it's not. It's in the angle of her cheeks, not as round as they used to be, but more magnetic to my fingertips than ever. It's in the way her breasts have shrunk slightly (undoubtedly recalling worries of "big enough"), and how the skin of their undersides and around her nipples has a looser quality and different colour; the way her skin wraps a little less securely around her narrow ribs, her graceful hips. It's in the sparse words she offers, even when heartfelt.

Badtooth and the World by dreamscape-painter, literature

Literature

Badtooth and the World

I wonder what the future holds for you. I wonder if they'll ever find a cure for what ails you (impales you); a reason not to hide from the rip tide - the seamless transition from sanity to superstition, fluidity of the apparition when it comes like a hurricane to your mind and you can't find the ground. I wonder if they'll ever devise a device that sends subsonic impulses down the canal and through the forge, that soothe you and allow you to breathe when your lungs have collapsed like foil between teeth. I wonder if they'll ever find a pill that mends the rends running so deep that skin only dreams of comparing; reflec

Where Are You Going... by dreamscape-painter, literature

Literature

Where Are You Going...

In the morning after I've woken two hours late, and I find little or no trace of you in the familiar places. Remembering the distraction in your eyes, before I left you; always too early, always too late. I know in a few hours you'll greet me like the morning star, rising as bread; smelling sweetly of honey and yeast, inwardly begging to be buttered. I wonder where you're going, and where you've been. I wonder what occupies a mind so softly fractured, like a paper mirror. Realising of course, that this is no innocence in my curiosity, no clean- handed desire to share a life or two (or six); no, this is Old Jack and

To the right. by dreamscape-painter, literature

Pressed. by dreamscape-painter, literature

Hello, Dawn.cpp by dreamscape-painter, literature

How to Become Something... by dreamscape-painter, literature

Literature

How to Become Something...

Lie often. But don't actually fabricate things; tell the truth in all things but in such a way as to make people think things about you that aren't true at all. You'll wonder if you're a bad person, if you should stop misleading-but-not-really-lying. You'll wonder why your intentions aren't so transparent that birds crash into you on a regular basis and fall to the ground, twitching and fluttering like a landed fish with epilepsy. Maybe you are Mr. Cellophane, and they say nothing out of some perverse kindness. Stay the course. Doubt yourself often; it's healthy. Question your actions and be ashamed of yourself. The deeper you dig tha

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Aquifer by dreamscape-painter, literature

Suspension of Disbelief by dreamscape-painter, literature

Literature

Suspension of Disbelief

We All Sinners by dreamscape-painter, literature

Literature

We All Sinners

Asynchronous by dreamscape-painter, literature

Literature

Asynchronous

Badtooth and the World by dreamscape-painter, literature

Literature

Badtooth and the World

Where Are You Going... by dreamscape-painter, literature

Literature

Where Are You Going...

To the right. by dreamscape-painter, literature

Pressed. by dreamscape-painter, literature

Hello, Dawn.cpp by dreamscape-painter, literature

How to Become Something... by dreamscape-painter, literature

Literature

How to Become Something...

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Honey Kisses. by AVolatileCalm, literature

A Miniature Compilation. by AVolatileCalm, literature

Literature

A Miniature Compilation.

i. I know I don't spark much thought any more -- if at all -- but for old time's sake, please call me? ii. Pieces of your blood still swirl and clot my somewhat-prudent self -- puzzled mind I wish I could forget you (just for a day, to taste) quiet yearning release. iii. 'Tis trivial-annoying that lost is not forgotten, and you not captured in my soul is certain death. iv. Drained, I would kill for your intimacy again. Anything. Nothing. You in a room of silent walls. v. Realisation of not being anything I should have been when I could of been. vi. Jeremy says hello. We miss you still -- everlong.

Get get get get get over it. by AVolatileCalm, literature

Literature

Get get get get get over it.

If this is goodbye, then I never want to see you again -- not thrice do I want my heart ripped from its strings like a barbaric werewolf night "I would walk a thousand sun's...", and yet the sun could not set fast enough When it's over, it's over -- but it never feels over when you just haven't gotten over it yet If wishes were fishes... And it's impossible for a human to be a fish.

Deviation Spotlight

How to Become Something... by dreamscape-painter, literature

Literature

How to Become Something...

dreamscape-painter

About dreamscape-painter

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May 9
United States
Deviant for 19 years
He / Him

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dreamscape-painter

May 5, 2011

Severance

0 min read

I will never understand the amputee; How he pulled his limb from the ice Cast it to the ground Spat upon it And left. But I can appreciate his gnarled stump: Poorly cauterized, and dripping After all these years Salt in the sand Of his wake.

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dreamscape-painter

Aug 16, 2010

Devious Journal Entry

0 min read

I hear reproach in your honesty, bitterness in your fond remembrances. Maybe I should be ashamed.

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dreamscape-painter

Jul 27, 2010

Update

0 min read

I guess there are a few people who would care to know what I've been up to lately, and seeing as I have the time I feel a little obligated to let them know. I'm still working a lot, but only two jobs now.  5 nights a week as the sous-chef and one night a week as a bartender at a local joint that used to be a brawling bar, and is now one of the classiest dining experiences (and most boring bars) in town. The concerted efforts of myself and several others have helped it make this transformation. It's been a long and difficult haul, but it really has just been a lot of change in a relatively short period of time. It's nice to take pride in seei