About Honour"Ever worried about what the world thought of you?"
"Nope. I only worry about what I think of me."
"What do you think about you?"
"That I am a broken-eyed, converse-reject-wearing wise ass."
"Really? And what do you call yourself?"
"I call me proud."
"What do you call yourself?"
"I am the grade school version of the heartbroken girl, who can't play the guitar so she strums a ukulele instead, who can't paint so she draws terrible pictures in graphite that keeps giving way."
"I see you doing it again. Put the fucking pen down right now and stop it."
"What? I was just writin-"
"You're cutting yourself to pieces with shark-toothed words again. Just because a sword is a beautiful, glittering object of honour doesn't mean it always has an honorable purpose."
"Do you really think I am a sword?"
"Nope. I think you're beautiful, glittering object of honour. And the thing with honour is, it makes the world turn to stare in awe."
My Book is OUT!!
So my book is out finally!! YAYAYAYAY!!
David (Other5317) wrote the most epic foreword for it as well!
From the back of the book:
Nikita Gill offers thirty three stories in the form of almost poems, almost fairy tales, and some very real people behind them. Love, hate, passion...forget all you have ever known or learned. For this is not about the art of living. This is about the techniques of survival. (I hope you're proud, Mr. Darwin.)
And it's available right here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/212387
I am so EXCITED!!!
Hemingway Would Hate ThisThe trouble with the Boy was that he didn't have the heart of Shakespeare, the voice of Poe, nor the soul of Wordsworth, nor the knowledge of Rembrandt in his darkest days. He didn't have a trace of Michaelangelo's spirit nor the angst of Carvaggio and this on its own was enough to dissuade him from understanding that technique was far better than solidarity and possession far more ageless than youth.
He didn't have any of this knowledge because his father hadn't had the courage to tell him that he needed all the qualities of these great men, to win over the heart of a woman who had the dreams of Austen, the ideas of Da Vinci and the scent of a high priestess of Venetian origin.
The Girl was all those things and more, and her value, her estimate in the market of souls was higher than most. She was an angel amongst Gods, and He should never have let her go into the world thinking that it was Keats hearted. Because like all women who live their lives story shaped, she was soon broken by
In ThreesI was armed with half a deck of emotions, two thirds of a heart and eyes of a broken mirror that offered no protection to my soul. I wanted to talk about it often and whenever I needed to, the words would tangle in my mouth, come out as a compliment of a shirt, an idea that had no relevance, a conversation about the weather. I was eighteen. I wanted to be stronger, brilliant, bright like a comet in the sky. Instead, I learnt about how beds could be the most loathed places in the world, bathrooms were meant to be soaked in blood...and men with eyes like knives sometimes used them against people they loved.
I was armed with shards of strength, a misplaced sense of determination and the kind of bravery that only the damned can have. Words haunt, especially when all you have to your name is a broken little mind, a need for validation and an honest fear of losing someone you love. I was twenty. I wanted to make sure that the world around me realised I existed, I wanted to shine for my sake,
Teaching Summer to BreatheSummer will always remind me of hot, sweltering nights spent drinking sangria, through the dripping fairy lights of your bedroom window. A sticky, starry sky looked back at us, the glow of the moon almost golden in the heat. Fourteen meant we weren't growing up fast enough and a liquor cabinet key seemed to hold the answer to that problem.
You taught me how to drink that night.
(You also showed me how beautiful it was to just hold your breath till your head spins and reality seems like it is going to fade further and further away.)
Six summers ago I met a boy who liked to tell me how much like summer I was. He was big boned and thin skinned and the first time I told him he wasn't mine to keep, he left handprints on my skin that reminded you of a canvas covered in autumn leaves that you saw in New York. Then you proceeded to break every single window in his house (Yes, even the one in the attic he loved so much.)
You taught me how to smile through heartbreak that night.
City of LightYou are my city.
Your eyes are the gates,
Your soul is my transport
Your veins the roads I must travel.
You should never ever be afraid
of my knowing you too well.
Or of my being too close to you.
Can you ever,
Even after living your whole life in it,
Know a city too well?
The Past, The FutureDo you remember when you were little and your best friend told you she didn't want to be friends anymore? It hurts like something was nesting on your heart and had clawed its way into your soul. There is an childish elegance to the sadness that you assumed only existed for grown ups when they talk about grown up things. In the glorious contant of humanity, the existence of her will corrode and become a faded memory that you will only remember when you hurt again.
And then you will lose your dog, your best friend, your confidant. It will happen suddenly and you will be left with nothing but the hole in your heart of a lost companion who you assumed would be around forever. You will learn at that moment that nothing true or pure lasts forever. A part of your innocence will die as you cradle your companion for the last time. If only you had goldfish and parents who lied to you about him instead.
You will think the worst is over, playgrounds will become a little less magical, danger will b
My InspirationYou once asked me what inspired me, sweet love;
And I shall tell what you want to hear...
It is a girl who isn't clever, but clever in what she knows
and a lost boy who knows exactly where he is going to go.
It is the scent of cologne and smoke and lovemaking
and a man who wears his heart on his sleeve
It is a woman who has always believed in her lover
and he will let her down no more
It is a sick man who is whole again
and the wife who stayed by his side
It is a writer who has found a brand new muse
and the paint of the artist who draws her lover
It is the words of a poet whose trust is renewed
and the warmth in the words of the person who finds love anew
It is the broken hearted girl who is loved and doesn't know
and the tears that are caught in the hands of the unknown lover below
It is the boy with the tuneless guitar who plays it anyway
and the door opening just as you're walking away.
It is the chords of a song which is yet to be sung...
and of course, the sound of a rainstorm wh
Bones"There are good days and there are bad days," you would say to me as you would try and explain away why the whiskey bottle was empty again this morning, why you smelled like her and why you thought it was best to let me know what you had done. At least that way, you were absolved of the gift of lying; the one your bones were too light to lift and just couldn't take, by bestowing me with betrayal.
My mother would bring me an encouraging cup of tea in a giant pink mug instead of a cup and explain, "There are good days and there are bad days." Her eyes were always full of positive energy and strength and good will. I look back to those days and try and gain the strength she had in her bones from her words. I always fail.
They told me I had a disease within my bones. It started from the bottom of my knee and was moving upwards. Because that is what bones did. They broke from the inside out. "There will be good days and bad days," they warned me. I knew at that very point that it was going
he was winterish blue eyes and an autumn scarf dressed in an stupid pink summer sweater that made no sense on a spring day. His shoes were converse, the kind of the skinny intellectual who had just enough money to buy one pair of decent shoes. she never really liked skinny intellectuals, yet did find herself considering them sometimes, in the way she considered coffee that was tongue scalding (horribly and without excuse).
it is odd then, that she still doesn't regret his monsoon flavoured kiss, the kind that made your tongue bleed with its passion, its heat.
he drew in uneasy catches of breath as he snored in the heat of the summer night, nights when she would stay up and listen to cars that passed by, pretending they were a waterfall instead of the cold harsh truth of metal against concrete, just so she could sleep as soundly as him.
she took his breathing for granted.
he spent hours lost in the dry unending silence of his typewriter, of h
The Rules of FlyingThe Rules of Flying:
No#1: Don’t Fly Too High:
If you allow yourself to achieve a great height, there will only be enough air left for you to fall. Stay at a constant pace, don’t allow your head to float above the clouds.
Another juxtaposing comment upon rule 1 of flying, do not fly too close to the ground, to let creatures pull you down.
No#2: Avoid Trees:
While flying to your destination, many obstacles may get in your way, clipping a few branches may be fine for you depending on your strength. But always avoid the trunks of these obstacles, they will end your flight abruptly and you may not reach your destination in one piece.
This also applies to aeroplanes and other birds.
No#3: Don’t Flap Your Wings Too Much:
Although flapping your wings is necessary to achieve the height you require to succeed and complete your flight. Flapping unnecessarily only leaves you too tired to complete your journey.
Remember to flap your wings only when needed. Do not let another bird
yet another book list...a lot of people have been asking me to
post a list of books that i'd recommend.
i guess a lot of people are stumped when
it comes to reading...? whatever the case,
i'm honored everyone who asked seems to think so
highly of my taste in this area. thanks guys!
the warrior heir series- cinda williams chima
percy jackson and the olympians- rick riordan
neverwhere- neil gaiman
unwind- neal shusterman
the two princesses of bamarre- gail carson levine
the raging quiet- sherryl jordan
hunger games- suzanne collins
the mortal instruments- cassandra clare
all-american girl- meg cabot
an abundance of katherines- john green
my other book list i posted a LONG time ago: http://burdge-bug.deviantart.com/journal/20398386/
(but still totally applies)
i totally just cleaned out my gallery of deviations i considered
better suited to be in my scraps or deleted. so, if you can't
find a drawing that used to be in my main gallerie
Artists who need helpPlease read: If your problem was solved then please tell me then I can remove it out of the list and keep space for someone else cause the journal doesn't allow any more text so I cant add more D:. I dont want to make another journal like this cause if you read this journal, you will miss other so please read it & note me if your problem solves. And if you want to be added here (just important problems please, I won't add personal needed problem such as opening commission for buying my T-shirt, etc. Please understand it). Send me notes instead of comments cause I may miss it (and if you can, please keep it short so we can have more space for more peoples). Thank you.
In case I didn't read your notes yet (sorry but I have quite notes to reach ) or this journal don't have enough place to add more peoples, please feel free to add your (or your friends) problems here so we hope more peoples can see it .
Audition Comic Suggestions. THE TIME IS NIGH!Chatroom - Intro - Rules - Prizes - Joining - FAQ
Powers, Characters, Limitations covered in detail
Creative Resources - Audition Comic Tips
Greetings! As you are probably aware, it's deadline day! You have until 11:59pm, PST to get 'em done, so get 'em done.
Best of luck with your entries! I hear that coffee is a good thing for crammi
Working with MinkyMinky is a very popular fabric choice for making plush ponies, and MLPPlushies has an article on working with it: http://mlpplushies.deviantart.com/journal/Tips-and-Tricks-Working-with-Minky-319075769
Personally I prefer tacking to pinning, since minky is so thin the pins distort and pull the fabric. You can also use clamps or paper clips (although paper clips also tend to fall off). I also always back minky with iron-on interfacing, to make transferring the pattern easier, and to keep it from slithering, wrinkling and stretching quite so much.
Any other tricks you'd like to share?
MLP Resource: Tips + Tricks for Working with MinkyMy Little Pony Plushie Style
What: Minky is a polyester, microfiber fabric that is extremely soft. It is often used in baby blankets and quilts, but also seems to be the fabric of choice for many plushie makers.
(Please keep an eye out for more helpful journals centered around plushie making! More will be made in the future!)
These tools can help make your experience working with minky much easier...
Rotary Cutter: http://www.beverlys.com/olfa-rotary-cutter-28mm.html You can use this to cut the minky directly around your pattern pieces on a flat surface, instead of trying to pin the pattern and hold up the fabric while cutting with scissors. The smaller the blade size, the better, because they go around tight curves easier.
Walking Foot: These sewing machine accessories are very useful. When sewing, because minky is slippery, the fabric may slide around a bit and get off track, making your plushie (or whatever you're making) not as accu
Musically Inspired FinalistsFrom our 100 Semi-Fianlists, we are tuned up and ready to announce our top three Musically Inspired Finalists! Our judges grieves05, OnlyTheGoodNotes, and zachb67 were tasked with the grueling job of narrowing down the top 100 most-voted-for Musically Inspired Designs to only three. The three Finalists will each receive an amazing $1,500 cash, 20 T-Shirts with their design printed on them, and -- best of all -- each T-Shirt will be made available exclusively in the deviantART T-Shirts & Gear Shop!
And now, if I may have the envelope please, the Finalists for the Musically Inspired T-Shirt Design Challenge are...
Music In My Soul
Music Gear Me Up !
Adjusting...books i highly recommend;
looking for alaska- john green
speak- laurie halse anderson
falling- doug wilhem
till we have faces- c. s. lewis
wicked lovely- melissa marr
midnighters series- scott westerfield
ella enchanted- gail carson levine
fairest- gail carson levine
this lullaby- sarah dessen
just listen- sarah dessen
the truth about forever- sarah dessen
lock and key- sarah dessen
the thief lord- cornelia funke
maximum ride series- james patterson
memoirs of a teenage amnesiac- gabrielle zevin
thanks to everyone who watched or faved!!!!
i really appreciate it.
at the moment, the unfinished include;
super-hobbit's friend's requests,
DoodleKins's "question" ,
and that one tag...
i've finished(that aren't on
We're Forming a CollectivePersonal
Doc and his wife took me to lunch today and they are the cutest things ever. She's so happy and perky and likes to kinda dance around a little bit sometimes and they just compliment each other really well. He's taking her to Vegas for Valentine's to renew their vows. I can't even. They are so cute. Cannot. Even.
(He says they're going to get a Borg to be their best man, and I can't tell if he's kidding or not. He did a decent Picard impression anyway.)
I already highlighted parts of my day over here, but I promise we didn't just talk about porn I can't recall how we got on to that. I think we segued into it after something about 50 Shades, but I don't remember what lead to that either: which also lead to me explaining what BDSM stood for, among other things like what the point of Tumblr is (granted, I'm not sure myself),