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So They Went To A Beach... Whyyyyy did he let his freaking pet convince him to go to the pier? He doesn't really like the heat of the sun beating down on him but her fucking huge ass eyes were so cute he couldn't say no. He held Nuisance close to him, making sure she was safe and comfortable. "Ehhhhh....I wish Amelia was here, and Sol." he sighed, "Nuisance, I did set up my traps right?" she would just look up and smile sweetly. "Hm..." he hoped that he did. || "O-Oh man... erm..." Chester shuffled his way down the sandy beach. Though he did love the feeling of sand between his paws he hated being around SO many people....being judged, being hated....all for his species. They hated him! HE COULD FEEL IT, DAMN IT!!! He twitched before looking back down to the ground until he found a nice place to settle, a quiet spot under an umbrella.... "HEY! WATCH IT PERV!" A tail slapped him straight in the face, the wonderful spot was taken!! "O-Oh I'm really sorry!!" he managed to cough out, spatting fur when
(Horror story) I like you!
He gently pulled Thade's flame to his face. "Alrighty then.." he looked around the room. "Got one!" "Little Harley was new in town, she wore nice, comfy clothing on her first day of school. When she was introduced to class, a little Aipom named Amelia took a liking to her, they both dressed with the same taste, and soon discovered they liked the same things. A few weeks after, Thade, the school bully and his three companions Randall, Blare and Soleus began to pick on the girls. But ESPECIALLY Harley. It was because she was different, she was a shiny. Harley never seemed to mind, infact, she always had a smile on her face when they would tease. It made Amelia feel a bit...eery, she couldn't understand how she could be happy about them since it made Amelia feel awful.."I like your fur today!" Harley would say to Randall, "I like your eyes!" she'd say to Blare. "I especially like your tail, Thade. And ooh! Your eyes are also to die for, Sol!' Soon after the bullying, the bullies vanished
Dear Mom and Dad Dear Mom & Dad,
You both mean so much to me, and sometimes I don't realize
that. I feel so guilty for saying "I hate you!" or even
thinking it sometimes. I love you both with all my heart, and
I can't keep myself from crying if I think about when its your
time to go... thank you for all that you've done for me. I
really appreciate it.
How NOT to treat someone with Depression. 1. If they trust you enough to let you in, don't grab their wrists, and twist their arm to find the scars.
Not everyone cuts.
It's not a measure of your pain.
It's an addiction.
They will probably have other,
more subtle addictions invisible to your judging eyes.
2. Don't say you'll be there for them, don't lie.
Cause' we are naive, broken little things.
Our minds glass globes shattered in their flurries.
Our hearts bitten and rotten.
So don't give us those stomach-twisting smiles, say a word and move on.
We don't want to bother you, we'll stand there. Silent in awe of your ease at life.
3. Don't tell us it could get worse, or to get over it.
So maybe we are actually selfish.
Maybe we actually aren't just under the weather, having a bad day.
Maybe you have no clue how hard we try everyday to get up,
put on our slacks and face you in the war paint of prozac.
If we are a "weight on your shoulders" then please leav
An Open Letter to the Minecraft Team Dear Minecraft Team at Mojang,
Wow, you guys must be drowning in hate mail right now, huh? Taking away people getting perks after donating to servers, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? Why would you want everybody to have an “equal experience” in Minecraft? Haven’t you ever been on a multiplayer game before? Haven’t you ever met that loud 5-year-old kid who laughs in a high-pitched squeak everytime he shoots you with the best gun in the entire stupid game that Daddy unlocked for the spoiled little brat? You obviously haven’t, but let me speak for everyone who has. That feeling is terrible, and it’s worth donating money to get a perk so you can show this kid who’s the boss. Or you can have some psycho track his IP and show up at his house with a baseball bat. Don’t doubt me, I’ve heard that it actually happened to somebody. You'll be doing a public service and helping the kid out.
Dear BullyDear Bully,
I realize you been bullied before. It is so easy to fall in to the trap of being mean to others online. Hiding behind your screen name. Spewing your hate. Acting innocent. When you are being what you have endured during your school life- a bully.
Forcing people to agree with you is bullying. Keeping nagging, reminding them is bullying. Pestering another until they give in is a form of bullying.
Using your words to harm another's emotional state makes you a bully.
Bullies use more then just physical attaches to make people bow, scape and act cowed. There are those that never have to use physical violence or the threat of it to make a person do what they want. That is called emotional bullying.
Stop acting innocent.
Face the truth.
When you do not watch your words. When you hurt others with your words you are a bully.
a letter to my worst enemyTo whom it may concern:
Remember the Julys we spent freezing syrup in the simmering ninety-degree heat, always mistaking the flicker of satellites for shooting stars, racing each other on cool green lawns that you claimed were Terabithia?
Then when I turned nine, an age where simplicity becomes luxury, you stayed and comforted me. We both saw Mother and Papa locked in a harrowing rivalry sprawling across weeks that blurred into months and then years, competing to raise their voices louder, to race each other to court, to acquire the house, the nice Crate + Barrel furniture, and, oh, me. You were there, murmuring it'll be okay it'll be okay it'll be okay, but as time dragged, the conversations got briefer and your eyes constantly drifted away to somewhere beyond my shoulder. How can I blame you for that? Anyone would have grown weary of the same dialogue, laced with self-pity, repeating over and over and over.
Sixth grade meant Belinda Weiss, a slender girl with gleam
An Open Letter to my Sixth-Grade TeacherDear My Sixth Grade Teacher,
Dear Cousin Katie,Dear Cousin Katie,
Hey, you piece of trash. A rude greeting for a child, I know, but you deserve it. Because you're evil, complete evil. I am positive you know what you do and say is wrong, though possibly a bit oblivious to the full extent of what you've been doing. You're on your way to a pretty serious beating once you're a bit older. Honestly, if you aren't drop dead gorgeous, someone is going to murder you. Heck, I'll murder you. Just wait.
In case you think I'm being unfair to you, let's go back and talk about a few things, shall we? First off, what kind of beast tells her brother to kill himself because no one loves him? While he's on suicide watch? And while he's dying, because you're a kid, you get away with telling him to stop wasting everyone's time and either stop faking or die. Yes, hospitals are boring, but you kinda just have to deal with that. If someone is being rushed away, or is attached to lots of needles and tubes, there is
Letter to Self (first one)Dear Self,
Everyday as the sun rises there is always hope. Hope that I will heal from my emotional wounds. Hope that I will heal from my own self hatred. Heal from my own loathing of what I physically look like.
The sun rises and reminds me there is hope. The stars in the sky twinkle and remind me there is hope. The moon who gets its light from the son reminds me that there is light even in darkness.
Such a fragile thing it is. So delicate, yet it is strong if allowed to be. It can be our light, the stars, the moon and even the sun.
Some days are better then others. Sometimes getting up doing the things I love is a chore. Like how can one feel creative when one is down. When one is lost within themselves. No in darkness but in despair, in hate of self, in all those emotions that we call dark. It is not darkness we are lost in. It is our negativity.
Like reminding myself that eating is something I am supposed to do. I am not supposed to feel immense guilt because I ate something.
longing until someone comesSometimes we feel like islands;
We long for the company of others, but once someone comes we aren't sure what to do with them and most of time they don't know what to do with us either.
Beloved EnemyOh, my beloved enemy,
How could you do this to me? To the child that I was? You robbed that child of her innocence and then robbed me of it again through murky memories.
You are my enemy because of what you did.
You are beloved because of who you are.
A person should never have to go through the confusion that I have gone through, where they are simultaneously adoring and abhorring.
I hate you for what you have done to me, the life that I could have had snatched by your cursed hand in a moment of lust.
But I love you, still. How could I not? You are blood of mine, after all.
I must confess, when I first heard of your Motor Neurone Disease I felt a split second of triumph. Now, at last, you understood what it meant to be unable to speak. And then I felt disgusted by myself. How could I wish such a foul illness on anyone? I do not want you to suffer, even though you made me suffer. I do not hate you.
I do not hate you.
You are both my worst enemy and my admired uncle. And I know that I w
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More