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Pursuit of a Dream by techgnotic, journal

Pursuit of a Dream

Nov 8, 2014

Leia em Português| Share |Archives Trekking at Sunset by MetaWorks (https://www.deviantart.com/metaworks), JoeyVazquez (https://www.deviantart.com/joeyvazquez), sanjun (https://www.deviantart.com/sanjun) Felipe Cagno’s Long Journey to “The Lost Kids: Seeking Samarkang.” by techgnotic (https://www.deviantart.com/techgnotic) Many deviants know well… …“The Lost Kids: Seeking Samarkand”, the 200+ pages graphic novel written and created by Brazilian storyteller FelipeCagno (https://www.deviantart.com/felipecagno). What few know is the story of how it took him almost a decade to bring this story to the public between script re–writes, production setbacks and more than three years of working with a team of artists spread across the globe. Although “The Lost Kid

dearly beloved by lupus-astra, literature

Literature

dearly beloved

these days your name has been slipping in and out of my rib cage and sometimes, my heart forgets to beat. it's funny, i suppose— how even after all these months i still don't want to believe that you're dead. how during the first couple of weeks i prayed to a god i didn't believe in and begged to know if death tasted sweet to you. how once, when the monsters in my head didn't let me sleep, i wrote you three poems and then destroyed four. you were a supernova that lit up my life for a few radiant moments before, like all good things in this filthy world, you came to an end. the sinner in me hopes that you have wings now. but i th

i'm a difficult boy. by crooked-clockwork, literature

Literature

i'm a difficult boy.

if let you’d let me swallow down your heart of solid gold, to cure the black inside my soul – if we were one, instead of two, i believe i could find some love inside of me. because i’m a difficult boy to talk to; with a mind full of deteriorating memoirs of pills, love, abuse, and chaotic alternate memories. i’m a body frozen in the grips of a thousand incidents, of a million standalone car “accidents” – molded by amber resin that holds my limbs shock-still in a stagnant pool of my stepfather’s fingerprints. because i’m a difficult boy to hold; with thoughts full of girls in racy garm

oppression. by woods-witch, literature

Literature

oppression.

Rebellion is a funny thing; being denied the right to something simply makes it that much more tempting; forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, as the saying goes. But what of oppression? What taste would that fruit have, riddled with hatred and malevolence? Would thorns sprout from it's surface, would the juice taste sour? Would eyes water as the foulness of it burned our throats, and caused us to weep? Our world is far from perfect, lights doused by the hopeless tears of those whose suffering God turned a blind eye to. Wealth equals power equals the ability to have your mistakes overlooked, swept under the rug so silently. But when a y

Eyes by WordOfChen, literature

Literature

Eyes

They told me not to look, But I always do. I can't help it you know? Their eyes are so beautiful... Each one shines with a colour from the rainbow. Some are green, some are blue. You might even find a set of gold amongst the lot. Some of them shine like pearls, Others twinkle like stars in the sky. Each one holds a fragile soul, Each one has its own sense of depth. And so, I always end up looking into their eyes... Right before I blink mine and I firmly squeeze the trigger... Bang...

Wired by WordOfChen, literature

Literature

Wired

Do you truly believe that you are made of flesh? Do you believe that it is blood running through your veins? Or is it merely the feeling of circuitry, Pulsating beneath a synthetic exterior. Think about it logically, If indeed you can. You are in constant need of a connection. One that makes you feel like a part of the whole. But if you were to be cut-off from it. What would happen then? I am eager find out. Aren't you?

Nervous Movement by joeyws91, literature

Literature

Nervous Movement

You're a dime a dozen in a sea of billions. Individuality has no significance in numbers so vast. And while this fact may make looking forward hard we can't keep living in the past. You're a nervous movement in a freeze frame scene. Steady hands won't help hold up such a fragile act. And while you take your time keeping character you fake what you can't take back. With nothing more than a thought we form our actions and this is where we extinguish the lie they tried to invent. The lie that we painted our lives without passion well conclusions are useless with no attempt to commence. You're a song I can't name stuck in my head. I've li

Frostbite by kiwiootori, literature

To You by kiwiootori, literature

Literature

To You

To the girl I saw With the sad, sad eyes. To the boy I met Who wasn't allowed to cry. To the man I saw Who was falsely accused. To the woman I met Who was badly abused. This is my ode to you For you live on despite it. I'm so proud of you For you can still fight it. The world is against you, But it's not your fault. It's just the way This world was taught. So live on, live on, Don't you give up here. It gets better later, The light is near. I believe in you, I know you can make it. I'll reach out my hand, If you need it, just take it. You're special, You're important, You're not invisible, You exist, And you'll be fine.

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