The Faithful Companion by SweetOphelia4231616, literature
Literature
The Faithful Companion
When a voice tells you In cold burning syllables “You’re not good enough,” To drown it in song And reduce it to silence Takes a lion’s heart. Louder, louder, scream Against your old companion Of long, lonely nights, And when you speak up And the laughter never comes And the world smiles back, Look in the mirror And see the reflected truth: The room is empty. That cold burning voice, That old faithful companion, Has always been you.
Come Out, Come Out by SweetOphelia4231616, literature
Literature
Come Out, Come Out
Come out, come out and play, they always say, With eager, smiling faces shining bright: It must be sad to live your lonely way. No doubt your world is dull and drab and grey, But if you let us help, we'll bring you light: Come out, come out and play, they always say. Come out, come out, it's fun, don't shy away, For we know best, now don't put up a fight: It must be sad to live your lonely way. The best years of your life, day after day, Are wasted in a dark and endless night: Come out, come out and play, they always say. Come out, come out, we won't lead you astray, We promise, little hermit, we won't bite. It must be sad to live your lonely way. There is but one approved technique that may Achieve the heights of pleasure and delight: Come out, come out and play, they always say, It must be sad to live your lonely way.
I need to make sense of my thoughts in writing, apologies in advance for the incoherent word vomit. I have probably been flooding people’s inboxes lately, so let me explain the backstory to this sudden surge of activity. Early this year, I made a resolution for 2021 that, at the time, sounded absolutely mad. Still does, to be honest. My resolution? To get back into drawing. Notice the wording there: not to excel at drawing, not to learn from the masters, just to get back into it. To reclaim it as part of my life, to have it as an option for something to do when I’m not busy. To enjoy it once again, as I know I did as a child. Now: to get into it with this attitude is a huge step all of its own for me. Part of why my relationship with visual arts was broken seemingly beyond repair for years is that I am an incurable perfectionist. I am the kind of person who does things either perfectly or not at all, and rationally, I know that’s a damaging outlook to have, but I can’t help
Journals on DeviantART are being used to talk about… well, just about everything, but this place was first conceived as a site about art, so it only makes sense to talk about art, right?
Specifically, poetry.
I’ve been writing a fair bit of poetry for my standards lately, my standards being one poem once in a blue moon.
And so, naturally, I’ve been thinking about poetry quite a bit, and I feel like I need to get my thoughts in writing in hopes of untangling the unholy mess.
This ramble has some humble beginnings: it was triggered as an unintended side effect of my ongoing, massive cleanup of my DeviantART identity.
See,
I apologize for flooding people's inboxes with notifications, but in case it escaped your notice (yeah, right...), I'm in the process of doing a long overdue (as in years overdue...) cleanup and re-organization of my gallery, favorites and profile.
Side effects of the lockdown, I suppose. Gotta pass the time SOMEHOW. Some people bake, I throw out my digital trash, dust, clean, and hope some birds and squirrels will come help me in this mammoth endeavor if I whistle while I work.
This will probably be a gradual process. I still have a number of things to figure out. Thanks for putting up with it.
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