|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
There was no real reason he told me about his abilities. We were just bored, and he had that small factoid about himself. I mean, Ive heard every story about people who could move things with their minds. Ive seen James Randi expose about a thousand people as frauds. This guy, though, told me he could do it.
If thats true, why dont I see you going to bars, float a quarter or some shit, and take a few ladies home?
Well, its really not the party trick you think it is. It requires interesting conditions.
At that moment he stood up went into the other room of his apartment. The next moment, back from the 90s, he brought a boombox. He sticks in the tape, the soundtrack of Koyaanisqatsi.
God, that movie was so boring. Nothing happened!
Say what you will, but the music was fantastic.
He turns on the tape. Track 5, Vessels.
He spoke to me, as if he had been waiting his whole life for some
Things I Learned From Movies
Things I learned from movies:
Inception: Your dreams should be for you alone.
The Sting: Everyone who isn’t specifically with you is specifically against you.
Dr. Strangelove: Go out in style.
Fight Club: Be yourself.
Dead Poets Society: “Carpe Diem” is Latin for “Fuck it up.”
The Sixth Sense: Be the first to open a dialogue to address problems in relationships.
Pulp Fiction: Clean and sterilize all family heirlooms.
Goodfellas: Choose freedom instead.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest: Choose jail instead.
Memento: Do whatever you want, really.
Se7en: Eat light.
Fargo: Proper maintenance is essential in all cutting appliances with moving parts.
The Shining: Booze is occasionally a good answer.
American Beauty: Be sure to litter. Freaks love that stuff.
There Will Be Blood: All existential crises can be solved with your own bowling alley.
A Clockwork Orange: The government exists solely to screw everything up.
Die Hard: The media exists solely to screw
This Red Hat
You should all know that Santa Claus is alive and well.
I recently saw him at my place of work.
I won’t lie,
there’s something surreal about the notion of Santa Claus
at the soda machine,
large cup in hand,
mixing root beer and Dr. Pepper.
Mrs. Claus was accompanying him,
telling him when there were kids that needed to be cheered up.
Santa didn’t listen to Mrs. Claus very much.
It makes sense,
a few hundred years of marriage tends to wear down a relationship.
Santa was stationed at a bench,
a few feet from where I worked.
I had to clean up around where they sat.
Incidentally, people are just as messy around important figures
as they are anywhere else.
The people who cleaned around were referred to as “elves.”
I am not an elf.
I’m over six feet tall,
and I am not an elf.
I had to ask if a soda cup belonged to Santa
so I’d know not to throw it out.
Which led to a strange situation.
I’d never had to formally address Sant
Conversations: Cell Phones
I have conversations with myself.
I want to talk about cell phones. I think they are useful, and I dont think they are used properly. My evidence is anecdotal in nature, but I dont think this would be interesting if it were factual.
I used to be in plays at my high school. It really changes your perspective on whats going on in a play. For every few people onstage, there are at least a few people flipping out backstage. Then there are the people who arent performing that night, if you have multiple casts. For us, that meant we showed up and goofed around silently in another room.
We mainly played games. Truth or dare was off the table, as dare usually entailed making noise, so out of necessity, we played truth or truth. It was my favorite thing, as Im usually prepared to divulge every detail of my life at the drop of a hat. It also gave me the chance to ask the weirdest question that I could think of. If we were all trapped on a desert is
The Barking Dog
Scientists gathered in the room
to answer the question
“What is the meaning of life?”
The first man stood up
and started yapping like a dog.
The next man immediately started
flapping his arms like a chicken.
The third scientist started
muttering about setting things on fire.
Another man took his pencil
and started drawing pictures of missiles,
landing on tiny villages made of straw.
One person took a hand drill out of his pocket
and yelled that he would finally drill through
one of the icecaps to see what was there.
Several scientists had to restrain the third guy
from lighting the table on fire,
including the chicken.
All at once, the entire room erupted,
engaging in whatever instinct came to mind,
until the dog man started barking.
For about 10 seconds,
he yelled above all other noises,
his breath blew out the lighter
in the third guy’s hand.
Finally, when the room calmed down,
he went back to yapping.
The rest of the scientists sat patiently,
listening to the melod
Lies We Love To Hear
They’re gonna love you.
I swear, they’re gonna get out of their seats,
and carry you right off the stage.
You’re gonna crowd surf right outta there.
They’re gonna love you, kid.
I’ve seen a lot of acts come and go,
but you’re got real talent.
Just sing your heart out,
and they’ll respond.
You’re gonna make it, kid.
I’ve seen a lot of acts come and go,
but you’ve got a true gift.
That audience is gonna throw
roses at your feet,
they’re gonna kiss your feet.
They’re gonna take your shoes off
and massage your feet,
then they’ll kiss their hands.
They’re really gonna love you.
I swear, watching you will
feel like sunshine on my face.
When you’re done,
you’re gonna wave a kiss,
and people will drop to the floor.
You’re gonna blow them away.
I’ve seen a lot of acts come and go,
but yours is the true act.
Yours is the first and final act.
Yours is the only act anyone will need.
The Search For A Milkshake
The man had not eaten for 5 days and nights,
and on the sixth day, he woke up
desiring only one thing in the world:
So, he stepped out into the world,
looking for an ice cream shop.
The world seemed to be covered in concrete.
Dying yellow grass grew between the cracks
and hung on against the beating winds.
By the time the man reached the first shop,
the sign outside said it opened tomorrow.
There was surely a place open somewhere,
so he continued on.
The more he walked, the stronger the wind grew.
Sand that had been dormant for many days
suddenly flew into his face,
forcing him to shield his eyes.
The winds grew stronger still,
as those around him lost their footing
and tumbled away, helpless against nature.
It must have been hours before
in the distance, he saw amongst the concrete world
a banner, with OPEN written across it,
and an ice cream store.
Nothing good ever came easy.
Give me a chance.
Give me a drink.
Give me a drink.
Give me a drink.
Give me a bucket.
I don’t see the light.
There is no light,
it was made up!
Magic is dead!
Give me a drink.
I don’t wanna sleep!
I don’t wanna eat!
Sleeping’s for the weak!
Eating’s for Sunday!
I have better things to do!
Give me a step.
Give me a microphone.
Give me a dollar.
Give Me Your Dollar.
I don’t wanna spend it.
I wanna watch it,
I wanna put it in a bank
and watch it,
This is the mirror.
This is your face in the mirror.
That man is dead!
His life is on a speed of light delay!
He’s a failure,
you can’t be that guy!
Give me your eyes.
Give me your attention,
I want everyone’s attention!
These are the final moments!
The world will end tomorrow!
Let me show you the new world!
It’s just over the hill!
Give me your attention!
Give me your faces!
Give me a chance!
I often wonder if machines wait.
I mean, they can sit there for decades,
in the bottom of a box,
shitty, leaky batteries and all that.
If you turned one of these machines on,
is there a hesitation in the circuitry,
a moment where the machine wakes up,
something we might call shock.
Do machines want to be used?
Do they get annoyed when we
intrude on their sleep?
I sometimes find the old machines,
like a “handheld” board game
or an old, bulky calculator.
I wonder if I should power them on.
Maybe that will make them happy.
My FavouriteShe is my favourite.
No siren song marks me deeper.
There is nowt but dust between us.
She is the herald of my thoughts,
The anthem of my days
She knows all my knowings well.
She is tense and bitter
when I must wear my Brave Face.
She weeps when I may not.
She pours her secrets, vermillion,
From ink to blotted page
So I may toss them aside, and breathe.
She is my favourite,
She who unmarvels me marvellously.
She who whispers in my tongue.
You are not an islandI have been alone. This man is an island.
The cliffs of my shoulder blades
hang heavy with grief, ore, suffering.
I am draped with the permanence of gravity,
So do not believe that you cannot move.
Come to me, water babes fully grown,
Allow yourself to be swept in salt and ash.
Tumble with your brothers into my arms
and be at peace, at last, on the shore.
I too was once drowned, but I arose
and as the caps melt, all things will erode
For no man is an island alone.
Our little secret.I sort of remember it now – that toothy grin
as your hand buried itself into the pocket of
an old, withered coat;
the soft rustling and the gleam in the eyes
while the snow petted the ground
‘Look,’ you said. ‘The lights twinkle.’
And when I turned to look
you slipped the surprise
into my chubby hand.
I always knew it, yet I always looked.
‘Mom said no candies before dinner.
But this is our little secret.
Perfection is an IllusionPerfection is an illusion
As heaven is to Earth,
A painted cloudy paradise
Inspired by human dearth.
Flawless is the pole star
Leading man to fabled land,
Still distant the Polaris
From man's conceited hand.
Yet perfection's only flaw
That it will never know,
Perfection appears resplendent
Draped in fault's shadow.
If You Were With Me NowIf you were with me now
I would find myself in you.
If you were with me now
You are the only one who knew
All the things we planned to do.
I want to live my life
The way you said I would
With courage as my light,
Fighting for what is right,
Like you made me believe I could.
I will fly on your wings
To places I have never been.
There is so much I have never seen.
But I can feel your heart-beat still
And I will do great things
On your wings.
... Someday ... with your spirit to guide me ... and your memory beside me.
Throw It AwayStop!
Put the blade down
Don't you think it's time for something new?
A new attitude, a new way of dealing with
The things they put you through
A new way to survive
A new way to pull you through
You may not see it now
But if you hold on
It always gets better somehow
So throw your self-destructive tool
Away and join the fight
We'll show those in pain
That there's always a light
And I know you think that no one's there
And I know you think that no one cares
But the things they said, they're not true
They're only trying to hurt you
If you go through with this
It'll only get worse
So just throw it away
So just throw the guilt away
All the anger, all the pain
All the fear and all the shame
Just throw it all away
On the edge
There's a girl stood looking down
And she's so far up
She can see the whole town
Little did she know
The very next day
They'd take back all the things they say
But now she'll never find out
Wait it out
Just wait and see
It will get better for b
I. Love. You.I love you.
So much meaning,
So many emotions.
It doesn't merely mean,
I love you.
It also means i miss you.
That i miss you even more,
You are not near.
It means i trust you,
With all my heart,
That i will believe every word you throw my way,
That i believe you can achieve your every dream and endeavour.
It also means i need you.
Beside me for the rest of my life.
You are my love,
My dream i live for,
I love you.
Do you understand everything,
I mean by that now?
Behind the scenesYou used to stand up for us
And I know you'll watch over us.
You used to carry us on your shoulder
Now we'll always carry you in our heart.
Cause now it seems life lost all its colours
Shattered all our hopes and dreams.
But I know you'll be watching
Even if it's only from behind the scenes.
DawnA soft shimmer grows slowly
In the East, so lowly.
The black sky sprinkled with white
Could swallow the faint light,
But instead turns navy blue.
The horizon blushes pink
Diluting the dark ink.
As the world's painted with gold
All the colours unfold
And the sun rises anew.
As if stars fell down from high
Down from the paling sky
The ground glitters in the light,
In this early morning's sight,
Covered by the pearls of dew.
The burglar was tired of going to jail.
Every time he stole a purse,
every time he robbed a bank,
a superhero was waiting around the corner,
bizarre weapon in one hand,
handcuffs in the other.
The city had become saturated
with vigilante justice.
There was now a section in the newspaper
for “protectors of justice.”
The burglar took an ad out in the paper.
The ad stated that in one week,
the Forever Jewelry store would be robbed.
One might say he was supremely confident
that this time, things would work out.
On the day of the robbery,
hundreds of men stood outside the store,
all in regular clothes,
suits, the like.
All of them were reading newspapers,
with reading glasses on,
trying to avoid looking suspicious,
and failing miserably.
Suddenly, the alarm in the store went off.
Thirty men in trench coats ran
into a telephone booth at once.
There was mass confusion,
as people tried to avoid giving away
their secret identities.
Nobody could get out of the phone booth,
men and wo
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More