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Literature
Scrawled By a Raven:1
Chapter 1: Falling Back Down The Rabbit Hole
________________________________________
…I just don't get it. Something that has become routine, akin to breathing, still manages to send me into a panic. This is neither new nor unknown so I cannot find a reason as to why I feel as if I'm about to be confronted by the Bandersnatch itself...
But alas, as wary as I am, the bells have rung tenfold and soon I'm about to be pulled back down the rabbit hole. It was nice to be back home for the recess I am allowed but Wonderland never rests. Time runs differently there, you know, and I cannot be gone too long…
I hesitate to think what will happen this time. Let this warning ring, Wonderland may no longer be safe. The Caterpillar will soon disappear and I'm frightened to think about the Jabberwocky that may or may not lurk in the shadows…
All we can hope is for the Cheshire cat to lead the way. I have a feeling that I'm not going to be the only lost one for long.
~With the most s
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Literature
As a Second Language
I don't know you
As well as I think I should
There are people
Who've I known
Not for my entire life
But for pretty damn long time
I know their thought process,
Their history
What not to mention to their parents
But you.
I don't know you.
I don't know a single thing about you
You're my friend
Supposedly
Yet I can't tell you
Your favorite color
Your favorite sport
Your type of person
What you do when you can't sleep
I know what games you play
What you want to be
But I feel like it's not enough
Like I don't really know you
You're kind of foreign
A language where I only know a couple of words
So if I may
If I ask you nicely
May I become fluent in you?
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Literature
What Writing is for Me
"What's wrong?"
"I'm frustrated and mad."
"Why?"
"Because I'm writing and it's not coming out right yet."
"Seems fine to me. Why so much stress?"
Because, "It will never live up to the others."
But that's what writing is about.
It's raw, incoherent, unsatisfying
(always seeming to be able to be perfected),
And utterly annoying and stubborn.
But it's beautiful
And brings upon a sense of contentment
As you realize that written verbal vomit
That you unconciously wrote down
As your heart and soul became too much for you
And you mind just upheaved them
To take some burden off of your proverbial shoulders
Has a rhythm and somehow but not really rhyme
Just kind of goes together.
Somehow, it just makes sense.
And all of the stress
The tossing and turning
The falling out of bed in order to write a phrase down
The zoning out because you're laying words out
The heartache, the disappointment
The headache
It all become worth it.
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Literature
On Being an Elephant
That awkward sense
Of never belonging
Of never quite fitting in
Forever standing to the side
A nervous, half-faked smile on your face
Because you don't get their inside jokes
But the laughter's so contagious-
They look so happy!-
That you have the urge to join in
You're so concerned with the ones you don't know
And you hope they don't hate you for acting like
Like there's even the slightest possibility that you
Might be one of them
You feel out a place
A fish out of water would be more comfortable
You're the unnecessary wheel on a sixteen-wheeler
Not even needed as a spare
You think you're not welcome
That you know when to go if you aren't
But there's something, isn't it?
That makes you hesitate and linger
What is it? What is it that makes people stay
Even when they (think they) are not wanted?
What is it that is worth more than relief
From that being the elephant in the room feeling
It's what they seem to have, isn't it?
And what you seem to be missing
What seems so sweet
That you'll
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Literature
Hypothetical Questions
"Hypothetically, how able are you to fix my grades on Edline?"
"What did you do now?"
"Nothing, now shut up. Answer the question."
"Well, 'hypothetically', I'm pretty able. It wouldn't be hard. The only issue is that it would be noticed eventually. Now which class did you screw up in?"
"Sharp one, are you not? Pardon my sarcasm. The trouble is Spanish. And I didn't screw up."
"This is coming from the girl who still hasn't seen Star Wars or has been to Starbucks. I thought you brought that up to an A?"
"Your mom. I don't think that's supposed to be a question mark, by the way. And I don't know what happened!"
"The punctuation works either way. Do you want to me ask Ms. Gomez? She still owes me for the constant computer help."
"If only tech assists translated into extra credit. I don't know what you'll be able to do. What, are you going to go up to her and just be all like, 'Hey Señora Gomez. Remember all of those times I fixed your computer and you thanked me? I've come to collect.
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Literature
Castle for a Reason
I put up my walls, built my castle high
Goddammit — it was to keep you out
I had filled my moat to the brim
With alligators and the like
In an attempt to keep you out
You merely tightrope across over the water
I remove the drawbridge entrance
You scale the brick wall
I pour lit oil down the sides
You ask me if I like your tan
I line the roof with broken glass
You take your wound and ask me to kiss it better
I'm in a doorless room
You build yourself a window in
I hold a gun to your head
You simply smirk
I threaten you
Tell you I'll pull the trigger if you don't leave me alone
You put your hand around mine
Squeezing and I try not to shoot you
You lower the gun to your chest
And through that smirk you whisper
"You kill me."
I close my eyes and you squeeze hard
Cocky bastard.
I flip the safety and through my closed eyes I can feel your smirk deepen
You pull away and I spring into action
The gun whips across your head
And you fall to the ground
The safety's switched off and I shoot nea
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Literature
Lonely in Third
With my hair brushing against the base of my neck
In my comfy dark jeans
In my corner of the room
As the scent of vanilla and overpowering cherry blossom wafts in the air
With my rebellious blue ink
And a cramp in my hand
Sinking into the hard chair
Pushing my converse far into the ground
A song faintly playing through my mind
While their conversations float unwanted into my ears
In my spot, I sigh and sink deeper
Someone says my name and I perk up
I deperk as I realize they're talking about the doe
They repeat my name and I turn around with my annoyed face on
Oh. Oh. Someone is talking to me.
"Hey. We have homework for Chem?"
Oh. It's not what's wanted
But it beats the silence
Turning around in my seat, I flash my obligatory smile
(What they and I are accustomed to)
"No. He's just checking Friday's."
Already turned back and picked up his conversation
Didn't wait to hear what I was saying past the no.
Bastard.
I turn back around in my seat
Letting my back slouch and bend again
The smil
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Literature
Little Girl Questions
I remember the sky
Wider than my hands
Bluer than mama's little blue box
That she said daddy got her
I remember the sun
Heavy on my back
I remember racing after it
Trying to get high enough to catch it
And bring it home to momma
Maybe she would stop crying
I remember the flowers
That were invading the house
In all kinds of vases
And I remember running around the house
With Macie
Trying to count the types
While momma greeted the people with food
I remember grandma staying with us
Her room smelling like lavender
And grandpa taking us out of the house
So mama can talk to the people from the home,
He said
I remember getting a brand new dress
But being mad at the color
Why couldn't I wear the sparkly pink one?
Momma told me just to wear the black one
Because it's respectful, she said
I remember the silence
The house was always filled with silence
Silence and crying
And I hated them both
I remember the pitied looks
That seemed to follow me
Wherever I was
I would stick my tongue out
At the no
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Literature
Circadian Works 3: The Chest
"A little boy once said
that the human head weighs 7 pounds"
The words popped up on the screen
As I type with unusual difficulty
On my old laptop
"If that is so, then knowledge
Must be as light as air
For only 17 years of life
Weighs only a single pound"
My eyes drift over
To the empty space to the side of me
The desk that was never clean
Was now lonely
I ran my hand over the
The dusty wood grain pattern
And feeling that familiar ache in my heart
7 pounds.
1 for knowledge
6 for them
Surrendering to my distraction
I push away from the computer
In the chair he made me
And rolled backwards
To the end table
That used to sit between our beds
And I reached inside of the drawer
Past the stacked books
And hidden papers
And let my fingers brush against
That secret compartment we built
After the twins moved in
We had gone from using it constantly
To letting it become a time capsule
To me obsessing through it
To me storing it there
To me living in there
To me shunning it
And to where I am now.
Wh
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Literature
How Did You Do It?
And I
Am not the type of girl
To fake something to please you
And I don't want to be.
But somehow
You get around my defense
You get into the chinks
Of my armor
And have made me think twice
About what I formerly held true to
And somehow, you've made me
Into the kind of girl
Who's subconsciously,
Desperately trying
To impress you
All I want to know is
How?
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Literature
Words I Cannot Say
And here I am
Staring at the name
Trying to think of something to say
And here I am
Sitting there silent
Knowing it will never be good enough
So do I say something?
Or do I pretend
We never spent what feels
Like forever talking about
everything and anything?
And let this opportunity
Slip out of my hands
Again?
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Literature
Memories
You're standing at the window
Not really looking at anything
Your gaze either just lazily roams
The view of the trees
Or it's fixed
On a faraway point
Not tangible enough
For anyone else to see
And then it hits you
The emotion rolls over your body
Like a tsunami unleashing its power
Over the unsuspecting villagers
You waver, your knees bend
You have to brace yourself against the sill
For you don't have the strength anymore
To hold yourself up
The memories
They're harder to bear than you thought
The weight attaches itself to your shoulders
And your stuck stock still
Tears are at your eyes
And you attempt to blink them away
Yet, they're still there
And they cloud your vision
So all you see
Are those memories
Your heart
Takes an express elevator
Into your throat
You choke up, you have trouble breathing
But your minds not on breathing
It's on those damn memories
That race by and engulf you
In a cloud of confusion
And heartache
And in that same spot
By the window
Hunched over its sill
With
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Literature
But you cannot catch me
You say I can trust you
Trust fall into you
And that you will always be there
Always be ready to catch me
You accuse others of being
Flaky, frivolous, and fake
But
For every finger
You point across the room
Three point back at you
And I change the way I see
See you and the world around me
And you become the bad guy
You are now the villain in my eyes
So I'm wary
So I'm reduced
To not being able to trust
Anyone, everyone
All because
Of that silly female thought
That I, of all people,
Could trust you, of all people.
But now I know
That I guess I can't.
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Literature
Can't Comprehend
You're speaking a foreign language
Because no one seems to understand what you're saying
And you have so much energy
That you can't expel
And you're bursting at the seams
Just trying to think of a way
But you're on a different wavelength
Ahead of the game
And you're watching them fall farther behind
And you're not up to par
And you're not good enough
Because if you were, it would be easier
It wouldn't hurt as much
It would come naturally
Second nature
So you must not be doing something right
You're clearly in the wrong
But you'll never get it right
Because you can't ask for help
Because no one can understand you
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Literature
Circadian Works 1: Her Bed
I stared up hopelessly
At her white-washed ceiling
And tried to let my busy mind
Roll into nothingness
But alas, insomnia prevailed
Turning over, I see her face
If only for a passing, flashing moment
It's instantly replaced with his likeness
And then the memories take me away
They forcefully strap me into the seat
Made up of pillows with the softest feathers
That, if I did not know one of the stops
Before our guaranteed preplanned destination,
I may have even relaxed
And conceded to the flight
I saw his hands
His wide hands with the long fingers
Stretched out above us
I loved looking at his hands
I would spend my time
Wasting away
Simply tracing the lines on his hand
Comparing those strong fingers
To my much smaller ones
So into my work
That I was surprised when
That hand grasped mine
And pulled me into his side
And that wide, white grin
Appeared in my mind's blind-spot
And disappeared just as suddenly
And then we were off again
This time, a meadow-less location
I was red
My cheeks, my
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Activity


  • Listening to: One Less Bell To Answer/A House Is Not A Home
  • Reading: Your Mind
  • Watching: Shark Tank
  • Playing: With Fire
  • Eating: Spagetthi
  • Drinking: Water (Bleck!)
Do you realize
That
There's millions of ideas
Thought but unheard?

Millions of words
Unsaid, unsought

And those fanciful people,
Places, things, and ideas
Merely rot.
`````````````````````
[/spontaneous poetic wording]
Point is: There's a bunch of things that don't get turned into completed work. There are lines and phrases that don't match yet. And I get pretty frustrated when I can't share them. So I created a tumblr.
Honestly, that's not why. That's why I'm picking mine back up.

randomactsofpoeticinjustice.tumblr.com

ATM, I'm in the process of adding things. New stuffs won't be up till about this time next week maybe. I went with tumblr because I'm abusing my Gmail Buzz, I refuse to use twitter, and it's not long enough for a blog post.

Journal History

deviantID

RaineJ
Sydney Something
Artist | Student | Literature
United States
Hm. I really never put something here. Oh well. The .doc I intended to put here was really out of place and will probably become a series. :shrugs: Maybe, maybe not. I have commitment and consistency problems.

Moving on... HI! I'm RaineJ, Raine, RJ, Sydney, Syd, SJ, etc., etc. Whatever works really. I'm a certain age and go to a certain school. However, if you have read my works it should be somewhat obvious.

Um, I write. And that's pretty much it. I can't draw for my life (even my stick figures are disfigured :P) and I like most artwork. I really have to clean out my favorites. It's embarrassing. I'm not picky about pictures because, hey: that's not my art so I don't know what too look for.

I wouldn't call myself a writer because I'm not all that dedicated. I feel like the title belongs to those who can actually start and get a good chunk of a story done. I am not one of those people. I always work in short short story sections.

I prefer fiction due to my problem with having to fact check and and due to the basic guide lines of logic holding me back. With non-fiction, there's gravity. With fiction, you can say, "Screw Gravity!" and alternate universe it. And then there's fan fiction...

Ums, I feel like there should be more here. But I don't know what else to tell you. I don't like to let my emotions get away from me because then I get random stuff. I stay up too late. I'm forgetful. I read WAY too much fanfiction. It's really hard to describe yourself.

I have a somewhat surprisingly low self-esteem. I mean, yes I'm a teenage girl an it should be somewhat expected with the media and peer pressure and all. But I'm not one to showcase it. I'll lie in a heart beat. I got into an argument with a friend the other day about who was more awesome-r. I fought to the death for myself but I was truly rooting for them on the inside anyway.

I don't think that was necessary me to add but I hope it explains why I take critic the way I do. I'm always dissatisfied with my writing when I finally look back on it because by then, I have become more experienced and/or my style has changed to the point where I'm embarrassed that I really once wrote like that. Usually, the dissatisfaction comes about 1 month or so later. The fog has cleared by then and I have come down from my achievement high.

So, basically: I'm RJ/SJ and I write things. Enjoy my stuff and comment, even if it's just to said that you read it.

EDIT: Yeah. dotyrose made me give in indirectly. Dammit.

Current Residence: A Blustery Municipal
deviantWEAR sizing preference: Medium or Large Pls
Favourite genre of music: RnB
Favourite style of art: Written
Operating System: Windows Vista (Not by choice)
MP3 player of choice: iPod Touch
Wallpaper of choice: A wicked dA pic.
Personal Quote: He who hath no expectations hath no disappointment.
Interests

Comments


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:iconelecktrum:
elecktrum Featured By Owner Jan 12, 2013
thanks for all the faves on Gat!
Reply
:iconrainej:
RaineJ Featured By Owner Jan 12, 2013  Student Writer
As a long time reader on FFN and someone without an account, I felt it was the least I could do to show my appreciation of your stories. I can't even remember when I started reading them. I want to say I came in around Haywire (for some reason I keep thinking Invisible Sun but that might be just because it's my favorite) but I started from the beginning so it's all blended together now.

Even though I've stopped playing due to my computer hating the game, you're the only thing keeping my interest in the awesome concept that the game is based on. I think you're an amazing writer and your take on all of characters you use in the series, Dexter in particular, is heart-breakingly beautiful. So, really, thank you.

I now have the sudden urge to reread the series from the beginning. Fuck.
Reply
:iconelecktrum:
elecktrum Featured By Owner Jan 17, 2013
I'll admit I haven't replied sooner because I've been happily gloating over your words of praise. It's quite wonderful for me to hear I've been instrumental in keeping your interest in FuFa. I've never played the game and at this point I never will. I totally suck at that sort of game, but what's more I don't want to change my imaginings for the AU I've created. I well and truly adore the characters, Dexter and Ben and the Professor in particular, and I find them absolutely delightful to write. I'm so glad you're enjoying my stories. thank you!
Reply
:iconangelic0d3:
angelic0d3 Featured By Owner Jun 23, 2012  Hobbyist Artist
thank you so much for the fave syd!!! ^w^
Reply
:iconangelic0d3:
angelic0d3 Featured By Owner Jun 11, 2012  Hobbyist Artist
thank you so much for the fave, syd! =3
Reply
:iconsh000rty:
Sh000rty Featured By Owner Apr 18, 2012  Student General Artist
thanks for the :+fav: :)
Reply
:iconangelic0d3:
angelic0d3 Featured By Owner Feb 22, 2012  Hobbyist Artist
thanks! ^w^ for everything.
Reply
:iconlabyrinthinemind:
LabyrinthineMind Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the fave! :D
Reply
:iconscreamoismydrug:
ScreamoIsMyDrug Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2011  Student Traditional Artist
Hai XD
Reply
:iconangelic0d3:
angelic0d3 Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2011  Hobbyist Artist
thank you for the llama!
Reply
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