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About Literature / Artist Community Volunteer StephanyFemale/United States Groups :iconcrliterature: CRLiterature
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Love dA Lit Loves You: Vol. 10

Tue Nov 25, 2014, 5:00 AM
Hello lovelies. Love dA Lit Loves you! Well, it would if it were a sentient being, in the meantime please accept my undying love.  SpongeBob (Spread the love) [V1] 

I don't actually get a lot of notes / comments from people sending me news or contests, so when I do I'm super happy. Like. Super duper happy. Bear Emoji-05 (Excited) [V1] by Jerikuto And what better way to say thank you than feature those who support Love dA Lit [I will feature those that frequently comment and fave too]! Then I might surprise you and randomly feature some people just because I can or those who've sent me in DD suggestions. It's all about spreading the love! Heart

As always I welcome suggestions for news, events, projects, groups, or contests for Love dA Lit! ♥



Love dA Lit (and Stephany) Gives Lots of Hugs and a Big Thank You To...

:iconmarcoemma::icongoldennocturna::iconeremitik::iconliliwrites::iconnaktarra:
:icondoodlertm::iconhalf-pixieman::iconalwaysraincheck::iconemberblue::iconskyiight:


RoommateVince regretted bringing up the topic. He couldn't see Dominik's face as it was hidden behind a gasmask, but he could feel his sadness. I suppose when you've been roommates with the same person and suffered through the same college exams with him for a year and a half, you start to know their moods. Biting his lip nervously, Vince said, "Dominik, I'm sorry. I know you don't like-"
"No," Dominik inturrepted looking at Vince. "You've always been very supportive of me and you've told me a lot about yourself. It's only fair that you know about my parents."
"I guess it is fair, but if you'd rather not talk about it right now-"
"I'm fine with talking." Through the the eye holes of the gasmask, Vince saw a twinkle in Dominik's eye. "You know I don't like procrastination."
Vince chuckled. "I know. You make me feel terrible for putting off my homework."
Dominik leaned back on the old sofa they shared in their dorm and propped his feet on the coffee table that groaned under the weight. "There is
Seeking The Great PerhapsI go to seek the Great Perhaps
where persecution is like Latin--
dead
and I can walk with my head held up high
for my flaws are no longer under a magnifying glass
for the whole world to see.
I go to seek the Great Perhaps
where 'true love' isn't a corny phrase
but actually exists
and one's looks, knowledge of books, whether or not she cooks
doesn't matter.
I go to seek the Great Perhaps
where 'mental illness' is not akin to 'crazy'
and people's eyes don't roam my body
for weapons that never were, never are, and never will be there.
And finally, I go to seek the Great Perhaps
a time, a place, a state of being
where I can venture beyond these walls
because I'll no longer be the thing that society hates.
Where Angels Walk    Their hoots echoed along the cold, wet alley. The indifferent rain, coating the sandstone brick, made the walls glisten like the exposed intestine of a turn of the century industrial giant.
    Rain licked her lips nervously, as fear settled deep, snuggling against her heart, her baby. The dusking, overcast light a weak ally, no strong noon here to drive away the shadows that lurked in the alleyboys hearts.
    Picking up her pace, Rain glanced back, saw the three grungy boys following her, lurid grins sliced across their dirty faces. No happy grins were these but grins of a different promise- a different, one sided happiness.
    The sidewalk angel watched the boys follow the pregnant girl into the alley. It knew the boys hearts, could read their twist from where it stood. The angel closed its eyes and reached out to touch their souls. Of the three, only one felt any kind of trepidation, felt any kind repulsion of what they were about to do.

perseveranceI'm the kind of empty 
that sounds like banjos
mourning a dry river bank,
the kind of weary that plants roots
in muddy soil and rejoices
because it has known the desert.
I'm the cracked skin oozing tar
on a logger's hands, the tobacco
that's grown into the spaces
between his teeth.
I'm the gnarled old oak that children
tell ghost stories under in summer -
my floor serves as a graveyard
for fireflies that dim themselves
under the glory of the stars.
And I'm the seed that drops each spring,
an inexhaustible possibility.  
Enter Stage Right        There is no doubt that in a part of my life I was an increasingly horrible person. Destructive, insulting and generally aggressive with no heart or empathy to other hope's and wishes. I wont excuse myself for some of the things I've done and acted on while it was in no way right. One of the first things I learned in life is that I wasn't going to have any friends if I didn't decide to change who I was. The idea that I didn't take the advice when it was first rolled out in front of me is to absolutely disgusting that I feel bad just thinking back on it. I got good grades but I was nearly suspended in elementary school on two occasions. The only thing that saved me was that small trigger flipping the switch to start all those cogs and gear to start turning as they made me realize if I wanted to be a somebody I needed to be more than defensive and irritable to everyone who made entirely obvious statements. To you, my friend, I really wish you knew me now.

detritusthe tumbleweed of Syracuse
is a plastic grocery bag
rolling across South Salina Street.
the mulberry treeI remember what it felt like to be 10 years old, with knobbly knees and always a great deal taller than everyone else my age. I was underweight and my shirt never quite reached where my shorts began at my waist but I had a thing for matching the colours for both items of clothing. I remember I argued with my mother for a week over how I was getting too old to wear those socks with the frilly lace at the top and could I please have ankle socks instead? In a couple of years I would be successful in persuading her to let me shave my legs too. But for the moment, I was 10 years old and high on the agenda was also convincing my mother that I had long outgrown dolls and that books was what I wanted instead.
There was a friend my mother would visit in the next town whose back yard was in my interest to explore, it contained various run down buses and caravans coated thickly in spider webs belonging to spiders long dead. I remember the smell of rust and decay. It never took much time for me to
Sounds Of SolitudeFalling leaves like flames,
guiding timid steps your voice
alone in my mind.

Sasha by Emberbluecolorful kigurumi friends by SkyIight









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IrrevocableFate
Stephany
Artist | Literature
United States

For You.



IT'S MORPHIN' TIME

Thank you.


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:iconkelcobi:
Kelcobi Featured By Owner 40 minutes ago  Hobbyist General Artist
:squee-love: - PLZ Thank you so much for the DD!!!
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:iconprinceoftheorange:
PrinceoftheOrange Featured By Owner 10 hours ago
Thank you for the llama
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:iconflowerpower71:
flowerpower71 Featured By Owner 13 hours ago
Thank you for the llama :D
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:iconmiss-storyholic:
Miss-Storyholic Featured By Owner 14 hours ago  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks 4 the llama.
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:icon8rwg8:
8RWG8 Featured By Owner 17 hours ago  Professional Writer
thanks, thanks, thanks :D
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