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Perfect and Mighty

this is about forgettingThis is the thing about forgetting:
                For weeks you bury your face in the clothes you wore when he was near and the smell is a comfort and a torture.  You decide that the torture is not worth the comfort so you leave them draped across the back of a chair and place things on top of them to stop yourself until one day you shove your hands through the pile until your fingers wrap around the fabric and you yank it free only to realize it was pointless.  Even his ghost is gone.
                The next thing that leaves is the way his voice looked in the dark.  Those few sentences become blurred and rough around the edges.  What you remember drops in your stomach in a different way. 
                You run your fingers over your
Words I Wish ExistedIn French, they don't say "I miss you."  They say, tu me manques, which translates roughly to "you are missing from me."  That seems right.  This seems far more true.  Because missing something is far different than having something missing from you.  When something is missing from you it means that it is a part of you that makes you tick.  I've always had trouble with the English language, there are so many words that should exist.  There should be a word for when you love someone but you hate them at the same time, when you can't get them out of your system and so you suffer constantly through small talk because if their words are all you can have, you will take them.  Maybe something in German, the German language sounds like suffering.  There should be a word for when you think about someone constantly because you are trying so hard not to think of them, because the active desire to unthink someone makes you think of them more.
for all intensive purposesi am accused of being
a category five--
    but i will not excuse the way my skin aches.  
i want storms.
    i remember the way Katrina screamed &
    if you press your ear to my chest you will hear the same.  
the moan turning into a pitch, the pitch
screaming until the throat is too raw to be
more than a whimper.  
the way it stops
and pauses,
silently racked until it bursts forth once more.  
i will not apologize for being demolition.  
scars exist on every woman
too powerful to contain herself. 
LW: (title page - epigraph)"Camus said that the only true function of man, born into an absurd world, is to live, be aware of one's life, one's revolt, one's freedom.  He said that if the only solution to the human dilemma is death, then we are on the wrong road.  The right track is the one that leads to life, to sunlight.  One cannot unceasingly suffer from the cold. […]  The track he followed led into the sunlight in being that one devoted to making with our frail powers and our absurd material,  something which had not existed in life until we made it."- William Faulkner
"Betrayals, even your own, can surprise you.  They can make you do things."-Lorrie Moore

Foolish and Cute

Bee's Pre-SmutHis hand warmed her skin as he gently stroked the soft skin on the inside of her thigh.  Her body tingled when his fingers danced across the material of her panties.  She wiggled her bottom to reveal a bit more flesh.  She watched his eyes flash down at her movement.  The smirk was all the approval she needed.  
Not wanting to draw more attention to what they were doing, he placed his palm flat against the top of her thigh while catching her eyes.  His line of vision darted around the crowded subway car and she realized what he was implying.  They needed to be more careful or they'd have voyeurs for sure.
Leaning into his face, she whispered, "I'm cold."  He smirked.  Of course she wasn't cold.  
After removing his coat, he draped it over her legs and his hands returned to the soft flesh of her thigh.
She had to keep herself from moaning at the feel of his hand on her skin again.  She wanted them in her bedroom already, but they we
Behind Blue EyesShe lay on her bed, unable to even get out of it and walk around her own home.  Having had visitors most of the day, she was grateful for the peace and quiet her empty room gave her.
Looking across the room to the long mirror on the back of her bedroom door, she saw her brilliant blue eyes sparkling back.  Not a day went by that she didn't look in that mirror and see those soft eyes returning her gaze.  Not since she bought that mirror all those years ago.
As she looked at her reflection, she wondered if her eyes had always been that shade of blue.  The night she was born, when she opened her eyes for the first time and looked at her mother, were they a crystalline blue?
She couldn't remember.  She couldn't remember many things these days.  Old age had taken its toll not only on her body but on her mind as well.  She was unable to remember many things, but the few memories she had were truly cherished.
As a young gir

edgea bundle of nerves and feelings
a complicated mess you can't help
but want to fix and make beautiful again
heartache surrounds her unfairly
circles her mind and claims her soul
she deserves special attention
a strong spirit, unparalleled
unmatched in beauty or ink
if she only knew how wonderful she is.
You're Beautiful, But I'll Make BreakfastAlice swayed her body to the side and slithered off Paddy, pulling the sheet along with her.  He watched her head fall back onto the pillow next to him.  Her twisted brown hair covering her face slightly.  Rolling onto his side, Paddy's hand swept the hair from her face.  He let the backs of his fingers brush against her cheek while his other hand gripped her waist and yanked her body closer to his own.  “You're beautiful.”  His voice was barely a whisper with just a hint of an Irish accent.  Everyone in his family had it.  They teased that it was the  only thing they had left from the old country. 
Her nose crinkled and she closed her eyes.  “What?”  He knew she hated hearing how beautiful she was, but he couldn't help telling her.  She was the most gorgeous thing he'd ever set eyes on and he felt the need to tell her that on regular basis.  It was normal to tell someone they were beautiful w

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TheTerrorOfTheDeep
United States
I only understand three languages: English, Waggle Dance, and Fear.

horror_filth on instagram

If given the chance, which famous dead author would you fight? Comment why and how you think the fight would turn out. 

27%
4 deviants said Ernest Hemingway
27%
4 deviants said Comment with author.
20%
3 deviants said H.P. Lovecraft
7%
1 deviant said Agatha Christie
7%
1 deviant said Franz Kafka
7%
1 deviant said Beatrix Potter
7%
1 deviant said George Orwell
0%
No deviants said Fyodor Dostoyevsky
0%
No deviants said Ayn Rand
0%
No deviants said John Steinbeck

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:icona-la-douce-memoire:
a-la-douce-memoire Featured By Owner Edited Aug 11, 2015  Professional Writer
What do you like to drink? like what flavors, alcohols, what desserts do you like to eat? What non-alcoholic beverages?
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:icontheterrorofthedeep:
TheTerrorOfTheDeep Featured By Owner Aug 12, 2015
Default drinks are 1. Highball, preferably ginger ale and Jameson. I prefer Irish whiskey. 2. Screwdriver. The vodka brand isn't really as important. Mid shelf works. Vodka is an alcohol specifically made to mix. Unless you're Russian, too poor, or super depressed you shouldn't be drinking it straight. Since I mentioned Russian, White Russians are good. So are black Russians. Haven't had enough Red Russians to know for sure. 3. Bacardi Limon and cranberry is super good. I don't like spiced rums. Only clear. 4. Jameson and ginger root, with honey. Jameson and tea and honey. Jameson. 5. Okay I like a lot of alcohol. Essentially A.) Whiskey: Irish, Canadian, Scot (only drink scot straight or cut just a bit. Room temp water. Don't use ice to cut good scot. Don't cut good scot really.), Kentucky, Tennessee. B.) Vodka. Plain vodka or citrus. No sweet shit. Coffee filter trick does work, btw. C.) Rum. Like I said, clear. Not spiced. No Captain. Met a Brazilian once. He taught be about cachaça. It's like the traditional drink in Brazil. When you walk into someone's house/party/what have you, and the give you it, you have to drink it straight before you can add sugar or lime. At least I think that was what he meant. We were having some trouble communicating at the time. D.) Next are those not hard liquors. I like reds if I'm looking to get wine drunk. Wine was the first time I actually drank when I was 12. Another altar server and I stole some unconsecrated communion wine and drank in a little secret passage in the church and giggled for like two hours. Whites are fine for seafood or whatever but pink wines are my favorite by far. For beer, I use for day drinking in between hard liquor or if it's convenient/free. Pilsners preferably. E.) Gin can go fuck itself. 

OKay, you just asked about alcohol first. I tried not to get into it. I did. Deserts I am also persnickety about. Food and drinks in general. I am picky. But I don't like cooking either. I used to eat because I cooked for my mom and she didn;t like eating alone. Now I only eat if I can pick it up without doing anything and eat it or it's free and handed to me. And only if I like it. I don't bother to otherwise. 
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:iconsmurfboy21:
smurfboy21 Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2015
Thank you so much for the llama! 
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:icona-la-douce-memoire:
a-la-douce-memoire Featured By Owner Jul 30, 2015  Professional Writer
I missed your birthday. Well. I didn't miss it. I was around for your birthday. I didn't miss the 28th. It happened and I spent the night doing things I regret and not doing things I regret more. Mostly not wishing you a happy birthday and using it as an excuse to get drunk while bothering you, as opposed to getting drunk and being bothered by the company I ended up in.

Happy belated birthday! I owe you a bottle of your favorite poison.
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:icontheterrorofthedeep:
TheTerrorOfTheDeep Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2015
Excuses. I will never forgive you.
Reply
:icona-la-douce-memoire:
a-la-douce-memoire Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2015  Professional Writer
Fair. :\ What if I give you booze?
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:icontheterrorofthedeep:
TheTerrorOfTheDeep Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2015
Never. But you can try. :shifty:
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(1 Reply)
:iconhugqueen:
HugQueen Featured By Owner Jul 28, 2015   Writer
My beloved goddess,

If there ever should come a day when your excellence is questioned I will fight them for you. I will have my blood.

(ง •̀_•́)ง

I love you, Happy Birthday, beautiful. ♥
Reply
:icontheterrorofthedeep:
TheTerrorOfTheDeep Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2015
PRECIOUS.

If anyone even thinks about looking at you wrong I will rip out their insides and set their guts on fire while they're still alive. :icondothisthingplz:

ilu2 :iconforgivemeplz:
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:iconthorns:
thorns Featured By Owner Jul 28, 2015   Writer
:cake:
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