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Deviant for 8 Years
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Literature
eva
my name is eva.
-
i am thirteen years young, and i'm a mess of paper cut skin and poorly applied makeup. i live in a house with a hole in the roof that gives me a view of the stars each night, and i converse with each and every one of them, for i've known them my whole life.
-
in my spare time, i like to watch isaiah wait at the bus stop, cigarette dangling between his insect-leg fingers, and pray he won't notice. isaiah is the boy that i couldn't take my eyes off of since the day i first saw him in the schoolyard, writing obscenities over the paintings the younger children did of zoo animals and rainbows and lollipops.
-
sometimes, i like to pretend i'm the only person on earth and that december 21st, 2012 has already come and gone. nobody will be left. not my parents with their blindfolds tied around their heads. not the girls at school with their petty rumors and locker room gossip. not even isaiah. my name is eva. i am thirteen years young, and i've been jabbed with sticks and had
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 9 16
but on the night i die... by maniasdoor but on the night i die... :iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 2 4
Literature
unsent letter
dearest hewhoshallnotbenamed,
the truth is, every single night i do clumsy pirouettes in my bedroom to your illegible handwriting, the poetry by you that i never got to read. i want to inhale you like stardust and bring you back to life whenever the tears gather on your long lashes as you remember the pain you experienced as a child. i want to burn your recollections like newspapers among firewood and help you to forget them.
[but only in a perfect world can that occur.]
the truth is, i like to wear diamonds around my neck and pretend that you gave them to me under the stars beneath your bedroom window, and kissed me tenderly and forgot every other aspect of yourself that you created. and we fell asleep together among pine needles that dug into our skin, but in our ecstasy, we couldn't feel a thing.
[i wanted you. i needed you. i craved you. i loathed you. and now you're nothing but a memory.]
the truth is, you tied a black ribbon around my eyes in yet another nightmare, and whispered,
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 17 37
Literature
stained glass rain
i want you to kiss
the stained glass
raindrops off my
face and save me
from the confines
of this room full
of kids worse than
me.
(i will never stop
loving you as long
as i live; even though
they told me not to.)
-
i can't read, for the words
become as empty and
meaningless as braille to
my young eyes.
nothing takes my mind
of the compliments you
gave me, the dreams i
had of you under pale
skies; my bliss lost to
a black hole.
(why can't i be
everything you live
for?}
-
i dreamt i traced
your collarbones with
a hesitant finger and they
disintegrated beneath
my fingertips like ash.
you were always so
delicate, more fragile
than you wanted
people to believe.
-
the trains running
along the train tracks
near the playground
are waiting for us; let's
escape authority and
make love under
night skies where
no one will find us.
(instead i'm in the
rain without you,
stained glass on
my eyelashes,
refusing to let go.)
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 24 26
Literature
love destroys.
t.
there once was a girl
who fell in love in a
school for the psychotic
and abhorrent; the statistics
that make up our wasted
generation. she was swept
away by his pretty eyes and
oblivious to his separate
personality. she worshipped
every word he spoke, but he
couldn't see beyond her cracked
skin and paper lips.
[she wept ribbons of tears
at the thought of this perception
he had of her.]
r.
in an attempt to forget him,
she medicated herself into
the bliss she had always been
searching for, where scenery
became poetry and the faces
of strangers become distorted
images before dilated eyes.
thoughts of him were temporarily
absent.
[never could the hands of
unrequited love strangle her
as she floated towards the
stars.]
a.
she knew about astrology,
and it had proved itself true
many times before.
he was a scorpio, she was
an aquarius. but she still held
onto the hope that he would
take her away from the city
and show her places she had
only seen in her sleep.
[in her dreams.]
v.
in the co
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 14 19
Literature
lost in the sky
I was so high that I could
see the Eiffel Tower through
the trees of the park and we
were messing with each others'
heads, putting ourselves inside
the minds of the Columbine victims;
paranoid as hell. I would give
anything to return to the days
when I was safe in the sky with
the birds and airplanes, lost in
every detail and the color
of my eyes in your mirror.
[you were everything. I was
everything. now I am nothing and
you are still everything.]
we used to sit in your room,
listening to music that tore
us between worlds, leaving
us oblivious to the fact that
we were misfits that no one
could stand. we lost ourselves in
images of color and beautiful
nonsense, helping us forget our
pain and remember the beauty
we saw as children.
[I remembered the ice storm
of '96, the streets a shimmering
white under the stars, and the
Pacific Ocean at my feet; the tide
whispering lullabies as the sky
grew darker. why can't I go back?]
I remove the veil of cigarette
smoke from my eyes to see the
clou
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 6 19
heart shaped box by maniasdoor heart shaped box :iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 0 1
Literature
bipolar
my emotions are like
spilled paint, flooding
the streets with an array
of manic colors. the fumes
rise into the air like the
angel-sweet smoke from
a stick of incense, and my
peers are getting high off
my mania laced with misery.
[they'll never forget me after
i'm gone, my epitaph
depicting my fame].
i'm staring at the city
skyline from the edge of
a cliff, questioning my
existence yet falling in love
with the incandescent lights
under the midnight sky,
reflecting in my midnight eyes.
i try to refrain from leaping
off, slowly letting go of my
education, my enemies, the
memories that haunt my
head like wailing poltergeists.
[i spread my arms, wondering
if i'll fly, but the stars hold me
back].
they're all watching my
neurosis, laughing at my
journeys back and forth
between grandiloquence and
melancholia. i'm a pawn in
this game of psychotropic drugs
and therapists with plastered-on
smiles, a game i'll be playing
until the end of my days.
i shut my eyes to the remarks,
the expectations o
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 90 55
Literature
the scream
sixteen years of repressed anguish
escape my charred lungs like
black balloons.
ascending.
exploding in the sky.
descending towards the ground.
he tells me i think i'm so
special with hatred in his
sapphire eyes, and the world
grows as still and silent as
a clock without hands, as
frightening as a nightmare
in which everyone is watching you,
but the black lace over your eyes
prevents you from eluding them.
[we all need a secluded place
to escape our unrequited loves
and the hypocrisy of our peers].
how could i ever imagine him
loving me when i left a chain
of destruction and chaos behind
me, leaving everyone to recover
the pieces of my broken mind?
how could anyone love me, this girl
with questioned innocence in her
dilated eyes and a "fuck you" attitude
towards everything?
[i have become a monster].
i'm done with pretending to
be original and blissful when my
eyes are a vacant wasteland and
the starshine has faded.
he was all i ever wanted, and i
threw it all away.
[my world is ending
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 8 10
Literature
smoke.
i smoke to forget
the recollections of
the times i was socially
unacceptable, the times
in which i mattered to no one.
[i might as well have been
a pebble on the ground.]
but i joined a crowd of
weeping clowns, and
they accepted me like
i had always been one
of them. and their harlequin
tears and handwritten notes
full of hatred for everyone
around them didn't seem
stupid at the time.
[but it had always been
that way.]
now i have nothing
but a plant that distills
the inevitable memories
into something completely
nonexistent. i can see into
the future, and it doesn't look
so grandiose.
[the stars have never been
this pretty; enjoy them while
they last.]
i'm shooting through the
town at the highest speed
there is; my heart beating
away inside my glass chest.
my eyes turn red in display windows,
in the dirty mirrors of restrooms.
[the memories can't hurt me
when i'm in this state of mind.]
i want to live in a world of
wind chimes and melting
light, roses blooming from
my wrists. nothing c
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 8 15
Literature
apocalyptical starshine
i want to capture
the stars in your irises
and place them in
the hole in my chest
so i'll have remnants
of you when you leave
me in this wasteland.
[among the tyrants that
ripped out my heart
with filthy hands.]
i've always hoped
you'd be with me
through the approaching
apocalypse, holding me
close among burning
skyscrapers and falling
bridges until we are
gone, tumbling into
the fantasy we have
always dreamt of.
[a place where our
laughter obliterates
everything, and our
blue eyes shimmer in
the colored lights as
harlequin tears run
down our cheeks.]
we could ride an
elevator in the middle
of nowhere to the top
of the sky, two broken
kids who never had a
chance to grasp the stars.
i am nothing without you,
and it's apparent in the way
i sleep just to see your face
behind my eyelids.
[please don't leave me
to face this war alone.]
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 15 23
Literature
notes
c.
i miss how we used
to pass notes in science
class and compare infinite
scars from an excruciating
adolescence. you always
said you were ugly, but
i always thought you were
beautiful like a solitary crow
in a winter tree, perceiving
the world for what it is.
they called you "goth" and
a "satan worshipper",
but you were always so
much more.
[even though you've
moved on, i've never
gotten over the sunlight
on your porcelain skin
and the potent sadness
in your eyes. i never
really knew what was on
your mind.]
r.
we were best friends
without any cares, walking
along the river and watching
the transients set up their
camps for the night. we
took pictures along
graffiti-lined walls and
stayed up until midnight
playing truth or dare.
never did we imagine we'd
be torn apart by envy,
green as the vines that
consume me.
[i'm sorry for ruining
everything over you
being prettier than me.]
j.
you came to me like
a dream, kissing me on
top of an abandoned grain
mill and telling me i was
your every
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 24 27
Literature
static and lights
we're in the basement
of someone's house, blowing
smoke into the incessant
static on the TV screen.
I take another hit, and
I'm captivated by the
light bulbs illuminating
our laughing faces, leading
us into a forest of coloured
lights.
[we become everything
we always wanted to be.]
the party upstairs carries
on as we become silhouettes
in the trees, tripping over
stained glass memories
and laughing at the eyes
of creatures from our
imaginations stare at us
from behind the bushes.
[grotesque and comical
creations we once drew
on our math homework
during class.]
the imagery in your
old love notes comes
to life; the vines you once
drew in the margins
growing around our feet.
[we fall farther
into
fantasy.]
but we are nothing
more than stupid kids
at a high school party,
experimenting with
marijuana in the dim lights
of a basement, melting
into
static
and lights that
lead us
astray.
[and we were
once such good
kids.]
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 8 10
Literature
basketcase. collab
tears of every colour
are pouring from your eyes.
I catch each one in my palm
and study the spectrum of
tiny droplets on my skin, each
colour mixing together and forming
a rainbow on my hand.
[you are my colourful basketcase.]
little pops resonate
from miles beneath bone
like raindrops leaping
headfirst from the sky.
[the rainclouds in your
ribcage bite their cheeks
until their teeth turn to
dust and the skin breaks.]
the threads that hold you
together come undone, and
my love for you grows more
prominent as you fall apart.
[why can't this moment be
mentioned in the history books?]
this disaster dwarfs the fall
of rome; visigoth invasions;
nuclear bombings.
this is the end of the world,
end of my world.
[ashes, ashes, we all
fall
down.]
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 8 16
Literature
polaroids
polaroids of you collect
dust and teardrops in
my dresser drawers,
remnants of the boy
you used to be.
[you never did what
you were told.]
damp cotton candy
clouds hover over
the hills where we
used to snort cocaine
and fashion music notes
out of grass blades,
throwing them into
the summer air.
[drowning our misery
and falling into an
artificial bliss now lost.]
the hearts I drew
on your ribcage in
indelible ink are
now as meaningless as
the leaves under my feet
in this tranquil cemetery.
I'll sit here for hours
with you until the stars
bring you back to life and
tell me it was all a lie.
[you were all
I had.]
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 12 10
Literature
puppet strings
she's made of fragmented
glass and protruding
bone and dangles
from puppet strings;
dissected and
medicated by monsters
with unseeing eyes.
apocalyptic visions of
the future paint the
insides of her eyelids; a
world in which the cities
and landmarks she
will never see burn
into ash.
-
the stitching in her smile
comes undone at the
thought of growing up.
she wants to be that
blissful little girl who wore
the sun like a golden gown
and painted incandescent
stars on her
irises.
[who knew it
would come to
this?]
-
she now sits alone, a
macabre abomination
in lace and plaid, with
a wind-up key in
her back, weakened
by dialogue and syringes.
-
she only wanted
to be loved, but discovered
that candy hearts and love
letters were meant for the
beautiful; the flawless faces
and bedroom eyes that
she could not have.
[even the fallen
never embraced her.]
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor
:iconmaniasdoor:maniasdoor 16 22

Favourites

Literature
It's not sad
I'm not sad, really. Just lost. And tragedy is what makes the most sense. So I cling to it and suck all the poison out until it burns through my eyes and turns my blood from red to blue. My heart pumps cold blood into broken veins. I pour black smoke into my brain instead of oxygen. It permeates the broken folds and seeps back out my skull. My parents say that ADHD means that my brain is folded wrong. It makes me think of people with twisted spines, how they lean to one side instead of standing straight up. My brain is crooked like a broken body; I look in the mirror and see a crippled girl with a back brace and wide green eyes. I look at children and smile as my heart fills with pity because I know they'll have to grow up. Sometimes I wonder which ones will end up like me. Their brains will spread early with wide crooked branches that droop and sigh like willow trees. They'll shrink below the tall ones, the pines that kiss the sky and never sway. It's not sad, really. Just different.
:iconemptyplayground:emptyplayground
:iconemptyplayground:emptyplayground 0 2
Literature
Baby
Hey there baby pretty baby baby
Carry the birds around your neck
Snakelike tongues, she speaks in
Metaphors. Cheeky darling
Pretty pale baby
Pretty pretty pale
Like snow like rain
Cold, cold, what to hold
Now you’re all alone
Sneaky honey
Sneaky bleak honey
She was born in trees
Fours she liked, for you
She cried, she cried
Pretty pale milky tears
:iconLorijn-Lammes:Lorijn-Lammes
:iconlorijn-lammes:Lorijn-Lammes 4 8
Literature
what i've become.
i think i've become a smarter person since i met you. you taught me a lot of things, you know. like how to deep fry ice-cream, and how to catch dragonflies by their wings. you also taught me what it feels like to be alone.
after you left, i forgot how to deep fry ice-cream and the dragonflies always seemed to slip away between my fingers. but i never forgot what it feels like to be alone. not once.
my mom says i've become a stronger person since i met you. i know she's only lying to make me feel better. the truth is, you made me selfish. you sang me lullabies and kissed me in front of my parents and let me sneak bites of your food at restaurants. it's all your fault i'm such a spoiled brat.
- - - -
i miss you sometimes, you know. i miss your sleepy smile and your throaty laugh and the way you always smelt like werther's original toffees. i tried to forget the arch of your back and the parabola of your jaw, and the defiant way you would laugh and correct me when i mispronounced a word (
:iconbleed-for-me-darling:bleed-for-me-darling
:iconbleed-for-me-darling:bleed-for-me-darling 58 63
Literature
coronary block
it’s 7 o’clock in the morning
in the eastern time zone,
and i’ve hurt you too much.
i want to knock on your door,
but it’s too early/late
to talk to you about my regrets
and what i’d do to have you back.
so i will let you keep sleeping.
i will let you keep dreaming
about all the girls you’ve replaced me with.
now it has been 16 years, 8 months,
4 weeks, 2 days, and 1 hour
since my mother gave birth to a complication
who cried salty tears.
now that complication is seventeen years old,
and she still dissects the time into two,
even when the math isn’t correct.
her tears are now saltier than ever.
i only showed you my teardrops once,
and that was on valentine’s day.
i cuddled closely with your arms
while your eyes and heart looked far off into the distance.
sometimes you looked into my eyes,
but there was still so much distance between us
that you could look
but could not see.
i knew that i was slowly losing you,
and that’s why i could not stop
:iconAwasteof-paint:Awasteof-paint
:iconawasteof-paint:Awasteof-paint 12 25
Frozen inside... by 1Absinthe3 Frozen inside... :icon1absinthe3:1Absinthe3 9 5
Literature
yandere
bus forty three pulls into the terminal and the corners of her pursed lips tug upwards into an unwanted awkward smile.
she cannot help herself.
it has been sevenyearsandsixmonthsandfivedays since she last heard his husky whisper and [but?] she will not kill to see him.
she dislikes Change, not just because it is Hard [to take] but also because it is Heavy [on her heart].
he steps down and she takes his suitcase.
she is dying [to know him again].
they sit down to coffee, decaf. it is scalding and hot and bitter.
she will forever remember how it sticks to the roof of her mouth and how she turned into a ticking bomb when he hits her with a timorous
'married someone three years ago.'       } five.
and a chary
'already have a baby.'                           } four.
he shrinks.
'am leaving tomorrow.'  
:iconnyh-win-95:nyh-win-95
:iconnyh-win-95:nyh-win-95 6 26
Literature
for i am.
they christened you the death angel
and ripped your wings
into fluttering feathers of pincushions;
deformed your halo
into a silhouette of
a crown of thorns;
castrated you, and
left your wretched bodymindsoul
to rot where the cavalries swept past
they've asphyxiated the kite,
         and ended the hellhole
                 you never wanted to be in anyway.

;
i used to                                    [and still do]
call you a fallen star,
[my fallen star]
because you were the one
that darted past the clouds
caliginously streaking the
bloodsoaked river with light
just as i happened to look up-
[so now you're paying the penance
for that breath of ephemeral beauty.]
;
:iconnyh-win-95:nyh-win-95
:iconnyh-win-95:nyh-win-95 4 28
here goes nothin'. by bing-bam-boom here goes nothin'. :iconbing-bam-boom:bing-bam-boom 41 11 twelve by sunday-morning-skies twelve :iconsunday-morning-skies:sunday-morning-skies 45 16
Literature
galimatias
"what do you want to be when you grow up?"
"i don't."
"you don't what?"
"i don't want to be."
dear diary,
have you ever noticed [of course you haven't, you're pages glued together with my heart poured into it] that when it gets cold, you can see your breath when you exhale, but you can't see what you inhale.
i don't know if that's fair.
there are only oh-so-many sad songs you can hear before you realize they're all saying the same thing: don't make my same mistakes.
[i know, i don't listen either.]
today, there's a commercial on tv that says that children can get medication out of their parents medicine cabinets, so parents should keep their pills elsewhere.
i didn't know that's where they were before i saw that.
tylenol or zoloft? they're both painkillers to an extent, aren't they?
dear you,
there was a glorious sunrise this morning. it reminded me of the way your eyes looked when the light hit them just right, but even though i could see the sun, the only thing i felt was your
:iconL-forever:L-forever
:iconl-forever:L-forever 6 10
Literature
52509
There is a note for me playing hide-and-go-seek
in between the wall and the hotel bed,
but the author is done playing
and driving home
because continuing after losing is too hard,
people are still breathing and posing for photographers,
popping balloons, asking for names or numbers
and living, and sometimes life would be
so much easier if they didn’t,
if the world stopped the way a clock
doesn’t tick after it’s dropped off a balcony,
lying there as a small jumble of twisted metal and wooden splinters,
a cracked face with fingerless hands
and all blessedly, gloriously still.
:icondustyreader:dustyreader
:icondustyreader:dustyreader 35 14
Literature
reverse psychology
never do i envision your hands under my shirt
on my bare back
like the way you’d do that on arctic days.
i don’t need a time machine to take me back
to those days, because I had a dream
that i was with someone who made me happy
and he most definitely was NOT you.
i’ve been doing fantastic lately,
making friends with beehives, pebbles, and taxicabs.
when i drink and sing
i can sound just like my favourite alcoholic singer.
i converse with the piano keys and the seagulls,
and i’ve never felt better.
personally, i just can't wait
to crawl under the covers at 8:39 on a friday night
and watch fish with symmetrical faces
swim through their compelled substitution for air;
because my imagination is flexible like that,
because my heart can bend like that.
that’s something you would know –
you watched as my heart twisted into knots
just to get your attention.
if i had to tell you six words of gratitude,
they would not be “thank you for saving my life”;
the
:iconAwasteof-paint:Awasteof-paint
:iconawasteof-paint:Awasteof-paint 12 42
Literature
one percent of deaths
i'm thinking of crawling under a rock, or possibly using that same rock to bash my skull in.
i'm sure blood is a prettier shade of red than the clay the cromagnen men used, [but fingerpainting has never been my forte.]
and sometimes, i wake up, and i make up excuses and tell myself lies so that i can drag myself out of bed and get enough motivation to do anything for myself.
i can't eat without feeling the urge to puke it up, because i am not eating for you anymore.
i can't breathe without feeling the urge to hold my breath, because i am not breathing for you anymore.
i can't cry without trying to gouge my eyes out, because i am not crying for you anymore.
[i am crying because of you.]
and when my lies are as transparent as a mosquito net and my excuses as weak as the dog ate my homework, i just sit in the kitchen and stare at the cutlery drawer, but i do not get up [because i do not trust myself].
i am tired,
tiredtiredtired
but there is no rest, not yet.
i still have ma
:iconL-forever:L-forever
:iconl-forever:L-forever 8 7

Activity


deviantID

maniasdoor
Shannon
Artist | Literature
United States
i don't write to be good at it. i write to keep from imploding and to stay sane. a certain boy that i'll never get over is the inspiration for the majority of my works. and by the way, i'm shannon. i'm sixteen. i live in spokane, washington and i can't wait to get the hell out of here and experience better things (if that even exists anymore.) i'm a very reclusive and anti-social girl, and you won't see me getting out much. i prefer reading, writing and spending hours on the computer to hanging out with people or participating in so-called "fun" activities. i'm not very well-liked and i don't really like a whole lot of people either. i tend to fall for the wrong people about 98% of the time.

Current Residence: an infestation of ignorance.
Favourite genre of music: indie. riot-grrrl. rock. alternative.
Favourite photographer: many people.
Favourite style of art: psychedelic. gothic. surreal.
MP3 player of choice: video ipod.
Favourite cartoon character: patrick star.
Interests
  • Listening to: "my body is a cage" ~ arcade fire
01. letter -  maniasdoor.deviantart.com/art/…
02. sticks and stones - maniasdoor.deviantart.com/art/…
03. birthday
04. immortal
05. circus
06. abandoned
07. nosebleed
08. mother [or father, or both]
09. sunrise
10. distraction
11. habit
12. fuck
13. love
14. waste
15. skinny
16. eyes
17. white noise
18. impulse
19. addiction
20. desecrate
21. death
22. low
23. heartbeat
24. first kiss
25. tomorrow
26. sweet
27. fog [or mist]
28. can't
29. village
30. time
31. forget

okay, update: i'm doing a lot better now. my uncle, who's staying with me and my family for a few days, and i had a decent talk and he kind of got me out of the funk i'm in. i apologize for writing such scary things. i'm not going to kill myself. because if i did, that would probably leave a lot of people on the internet very, very sad. especially those of you on here. thank you all so much for helping me through the shit times. i've just been too selfish to realize that deviantart is what's keeping me alive. iloveyouallendlessly.

Comments


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:iconseasonsofhell:
SeasonsOfHell Featured By Owner May 1, 2012
hello, all! i'm surprised that people are still looking at this old account of mine; i sadly lost the password to it 3 years ago and did not mean to abandon it. well anyway i dwell here now <--

thank you all so much for the lovef :heart:
Reply
:iconfaithlessdx:
faithlessdx Featured By Owner Sep 17, 2011
hey, it's not easy, but you can cut the ties that hold you back. You can leave your old life behind and never look back. There are better paths than what I've settled with so far, but still. Right now I'm 11 time zones away from the people I had to leave. I don't plan to ignore them forever, but you've got to take care of yourself, too.

Sorry for projecting so much right now; I'm currently sinking down. I don't mean to sound like I doubt you, I'm sure you're strong enough to get to where you want to be.
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:iconbleedingcherrytrees:
bleedingcherrytrees Featured By Owner Sep 12, 2010   Writer
hey this is wastedxxwishes with a new account. if you want to keep watching my work, please watch this account! thanks <3
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:iconsadeyesbrokenglass:
sadeyesbrokenglass Featured By Owner Oct 29, 2009   Writer
for all of my old watchers who are looking at this:

i have a new account because i forgot the password to this one. you may watch me here:

- [link]

thanks!
<3
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:iconsinner564:
sinner564 Featured By Owner Jul 19, 2009
For Maniasdoor's friends.

At this point in time she won't be able to get on her account. She's in a treatment center for the next few months. I'm her roommate right now so she asked me to inform you all that she's alive and will get on A.S.A.P
If you have questions or would like me to relay a message to here i'd be happy to do so.
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:iconnossyvg:
NossyVG Featured By Owner Aug 11, 2009
Is there a way to contact her?
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:iconsinner564:
sinner564 Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2009
If you give me your E-mail or Phone number i can give it to her. or you can E-mail her at shannonm@tamarack.org
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:iconcornerstoneascetic:
CornerstoneAscetic Featured By Owner Jun 7, 2009
Did you know that a sincere smile activates muscles near your eyes but fake smiles don't? The real ones are called Duchenne smiles.

Duchenne smiles release chemicals into your brain which cheer you up.

Meditation also releases chemicals which have positive effects.

And supposedly, long term depression can cause brain damage. That's a fun one.

Just some things I've learned that seem to help me and motivate me.
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:iconbeatingmyheart:
BeatingMyHeart Featured By Owner May 29, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
thank you ever so much for the generous watch :heart:
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:iconmaniasdoor:
maniasdoor Featured By Owner May 29, 2009   Writer
you're welcome :heart:
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