|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
World of StreetlightsI was looking out my window and staring down the street. I couldn't see a thing. My bedroom light was off. The fan blades were spinning and were shaking the entire fan. The light switch, or the metal chain rather, clanged against the dark globes. The room was in disarray, and even though I couldn't see the objects themselves, I could see their faint outlines on the floor of the crammed room. Outside, the single streetlight barely revealed anything. The small street was shadowed with night. All the pale orange hue could do was make me feel utterly alone.
Feelings are extremely hard to fathom, don't you think? I don't know why the light of a single streetlight outside my bedroom window made me feel lonely. Actually, it feels like this every time I glance at a lonesome streetlight. But right now, right here, with the clanging chain above me and the silent city streets below me... I feel a little different.
Have you ever felt so small and insignificant that all there is left for you to do
AfraidEveryone is afraid: afraid of the dark, afraid of monsters, afraid of death, afraid of being alone, afraid of heights, afraid of losing someone or something very special to you. What if life is simply the state of having something to lose? Even that poor man on the street with no family or home, he has something to lose. He could lose his will to live, his life, his own bright character that makes him stand out against the six billion other people on the planet. We all have so much to lose. It makes us afraid. But why? Life isn't scary. Life is beautiful. It's amazing that you have someone to lose. It's amazing that you are healthy. It's amazing that someone loves you. You are amazing.
Maybe, though, the trick is knowing when to let go. Maybe the trick is knowing when you should stop and let all those burdens float free through the sky like a bunch of brightly-colored balloons. If we fight it and keep holding on, what is accomplished? Avoiding the inevitable is not healthy. A baby bird
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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