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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
August 10, 2014
Thirty Three Percent by UntamedUnwanted has a unique approach with its assignment of numbers to things you would think couldn't be quantified. The dialogue-only is intriguing with the voices being easily distinguishable from one another.
Featured by inknalcohol
Suggested by hopeburnsblue
Literature Text
"What are you doing?"
"I think…I finally figured out percentages."
"We learnt those in the third grade."
"Yeah, but we always complained that we'd never use them in real life."
"And you know how to use them in real life now?"
"Eighty four percent."
"What's that?"
"That's the percentage of how many basketball matches you lost to me when we were kids."
"That's not fair! You're taller than me!"
"Fifty two percent."
"Is that how much taller than me you are?"
"No. That's the percentage of times you speak out of turn and get into trouble for it."
"Very funny."
"Twenty three percent."
"Let me guess, that's how much I annoy you?"
"That's the percentage of times your mother told you she loved you when you were a child instead of the amount she should have."
"..."
"Seventy nine percent."
"I don't think I like this game anymore."
"That's how much of your heart loved that guy who broke it so completely callously."
"Look, I'm serious. Stop."
"Ten percent."
"Please stop."
"That's how sure you are that you will be able to love again."
"I'm not asking you for much, just stop this. I'm not joking anymore."
"Eight percent."
"Didn't I tell you to stop?!"
"That's how much you think there is left of you to love."
"…"
"Four percent."
"…"
"That's how much every person took when you gave yourself away piece by piece to them. The mother who didn't love you. The father who didn't care. The boys who broke your heart. The girls who tell you you're ugly. The best friends who betrayed you."
"...I'll see you later."
"Thirty three percent. This is the most important one."
"Why?"
"Because no matter what I do, at least thirty three percent of me is always thinking about you."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that a hundred percent of me loves you. And whether you believe it or not...there is a hundred percent of you to love too."
"I think…I finally figured out percentages."
"We learnt those in the third grade."
"Yeah, but we always complained that we'd never use them in real life."
"And you know how to use them in real life now?"
"Eighty four percent."
"What's that?"
"That's the percentage of how many basketball matches you lost to me when we were kids."
"That's not fair! You're taller than me!"
"Fifty two percent."
"Is that how much taller than me you are?"
"No. That's the percentage of times you speak out of turn and get into trouble for it."
"Very funny."
"Twenty three percent."
"Let me guess, that's how much I annoy you?"
"That's the percentage of times your mother told you she loved you when you were a child instead of the amount she should have."
"..."
"Seventy nine percent."
"I don't think I like this game anymore."
"That's how much of your heart loved that guy who broke it so completely callously."
"Look, I'm serious. Stop."
"Ten percent."
"Please stop."
"That's how sure you are that you will be able to love again."
"I'm not asking you for much, just stop this. I'm not joking anymore."
"Eight percent."
"Didn't I tell you to stop?!"
"That's how much you think there is left of you to love."
"…"
"Four percent."
"…"
"That's how much every person took when you gave yourself away piece by piece to them. The mother who didn't love you. The father who didn't care. The boys who broke your heart. The girls who tell you you're ugly. The best friends who betrayed you."
"...I'll see you later."
"Thirty three percent. This is the most important one."
"Why?"
"Because no matter what I do, at least thirty three percent of me is always thinking about you."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that a hundred percent of me loves you. And whether you believe it or not...there is a hundred percent of you to love too."
Literature
kids cut through the middle
when you spend a summer somewhere
where people squirrel away their
ugly children, it's hard not to notice
the subtle strain of the truth
on certain smarter faces,
or the absolute oblivion
in certain spinning eyes
and stumbling legs.
--
i met a girl named K,
just K,
with ankles like a deer and a voice
loud like noise and swampy like a swamp.
she liked orange foods and big words and
her hands shook like the girls in jazz class.
K clicked her tongue between words sometimes
but nobody ever mentioned it. her socks
were alphabetized. she carried a comb in her back pocket
but only 'cause she needed it, she said.
her hair was turning
Literature
Starting Over, Growing Up
I was sick of the pink,
It was on every wall,
And every accent color
Was more pink.
I wanted white
A clean slate
The color of a new life
A new beginning
I asked you to help
We wore old jeans
Ripped band shirts
Nothing we minded ruining.
Me, being cautious,
I let you go on the ladder
And rip down the lights
A pink chandelier
We stripped the walls
And brushed over them
Using a massive paint roller
We turned the walls white.
I threw out the pink bedspread,
Tore up the pink carpet,
Ripped down the pink blinds
And pink valences.
Three weeks later
We sat back to back
In my new room
All white.
This was a beginning
The st
Literature
A Child Again
I wish I could be a child again.
Where all I had to worry about
Were skinned knees
And cooties from boys.
I wish I would be a child again.
Where boys ran away from girls
And no one lied.
I wish I could be a child again.
Where parents were devoted
In every part of my life.
I wish I could be a child again.
When there was recess,
And fun and games.
I want to be a child again.
I want the child meant wonder.
I want the never ending hope.
I want loyalty.
I want simplicity.
I want to be a child again.
I want my innocence back.
I want to not have to worry.
I want grades that don't matter
I want time outs to be the worse punishme
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
100 Themes: Thirty three percent
Comments412
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Aww, this is really cute and wholesome