~GivenAlias

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About Me Member Procrastinator GivenAliasFemale/United States

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Collecting WordsI know you've been collecting words.
Words to throw at me. Words that are beginning to feel like hot coals on your tongue just trying to push their way past those sensitive bone walls that you clench in response to my actions again and again.
Because I'm that person who leaves socks in every room of the house and then complains of not being able to find my socks to wash. Because when I tell you I'm taking a nap you know I'm really in bed crying, trying to comfort and hold myself instead of letting you in. I'm the sort of person who cleans when they feel like they're breaking down – just so I don't have to stop a Collecting Words
by ~GivenAlias

Sand and GritLips raw with paper cuts formed from love letters you never wrote Your kiss does nothing to quell the pain
How can silence be questioning? But ours is.
My eyes are no longer seeing-things they're orbs of sand and grit
Tightly clenched fists are suddenly lax Bloodied knuckles all for naught
When morning breaks My demons are on the run, hiding behind my kidneys.
God himself wouldn't bother His all seeing eyes They wouldn't examine my inward parts They would become orbs of sand and grit.
I still cant help but Sand and Grit
by ~GivenAlias

Lightning
by ~GivenAlias

The WorldThe alarm clock flashed an angry 6:41 accompanied by that aggravating beep. She always set her alarm to times that were slightly off. Times that weren't normal because, after all, she was not normal. That grating beep was ignored as the girl remained motionless in bed. The beeping became a pulse. A healthy reminder that she was alive. A small turn of her head led her to discover it was a cloudy, hazy day. The sort of day that begs you to stay in bed. The sort of day that warns a person of dangers the outside world holds. She dutifully listened and continued to stare out the window and pulled her blanket up close to her chin.

Bee The World
by ~GivenAlias

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Pablo Neruda

Fri Apr 3, 2009, 8:35 PM

I was randomly reminded of a poem by Pablo Neruda tonight and I encourage everyone to read it. It's my favorite poem. Here's two different translations. I cant pick a favorite because I like certain lines from each version.

[link]

[link]

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Mood: Sadness
Listening to: What Sarah Said - Death Cab
Watching: Dollhouse if it would buffer
Drinking: water

deviantID

Forest fires are indeed pants. It's just a proven fact, Space Monkey...how's that for random and uninformative?

Devious Info

Current Residence: Minnesota,USA
Interests: Drawing, photography, writing, hypothetical situations, music
Favourite movie: Princess Bride You've Got Mail Gone In 60 Seconds The Matrix Fight Club V for Vendetta
Favourite band or musician: Death Cab. Dashboard Confessional. MCR. Simon and Garfunkel. The Bravery. Greg Laswell.
Favourite genre of music: Fairly eclectic.
Favourite artist: Van Gogh. Giorgione.
Favourite poet or writer: Pablo Neruda
MP3 player of choice: iPod Classic
Skin of choice: Yours *muhaha*..no, that's creepy.
Favourite game: Aetolia. Mario All-Stars. Halo. Diddy Kong Racing.
Favourite gaming platform: PS3. Or super nintendo
Favourite cartoon character: Captain Planet. He's our hero. Gonna take polution down to zero.
Tools of the Trade: Pencil and paper. Pens. Photoshop. Canon Powershot S3 IS