questioningmyself

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I try by questioningmyself, literature

Literature

I try

I paint And I write And I draw. I scribble furiously, Slapping paint And words Onto my canvases, My paper My mind My soul. I press down the button Capturing so much beauty The world Photographs of lives That otherwise I would never have touched. I paint haphazardly Emotions spilling out of me The need to complete -To create- something worthwhile Overpowering. I write everything As soon as it is in my head I can't control I need to empty myself To feel. I use emotion I mold it to my needs, Or should I say It molds me. What I have is decent, The end result. I've used all the mediums

Disappointed by questioningmyself, literature

Literature

Disappointed

He comes in the door, obnoxious and loud. He says something, laughs, you laugh as well. You're caught up in him. Why can't you see him as he really is? You remember I'm on the phone, 'I'm gunna go now,' because you know he doesn't like me. I can see through him, it's not that hard. Why can't you? Sometimes you come close, but then you shy away, afraid of the truth and where it will leave you. 'Night,' I say, a sigh of defeat, I'm set in my lot. 'Oh, what's wrong?' Oh, you noticed? 'Ha, nothing, why.' 'You sounded all sad.' Not sad darling, disappointed. Disappointed? Why? Disappointed, because you failed to disapp

meh... by questioningmyself, literature

Literature

meh...

I resist the urge to look over my shoulder. and after much jerking and hesitation i walk away, down the hall. i refuse to be the one who apologizes first. So once again my stubbornness prevents happiness my pride prevents joy and i cause myself more pain than probably necessary. but admitting i’m wrong, is something i just cannot do. because even though i have no proof i know i’m NOT wrong. and that hurts more. so i slip into a bathroom stall pull out a razor blade remove the bands that cover my arms glance at the patterns, glance at my scars and make a new wound to help me stay sane. as soon as i feel the pain t

for him by questioningmyself, literature

Literature

for him

I run my hand through his hair; consoling him, just like he wants. never mind that i’ve had worse. that sometimes i feel worse still. he can’t handle it, he’s not like me. just once though, i wish he would see, that i’m not like me either. i want someone to hold me and tell me it’s alright. to whom i can spill my thoughts my fears my pains my soul. but shh now, it’s not the time to be selfish. he needs me now. he needs me. he’s not like me, he can’t handle it all. sometimes it’s all just too much. so i continue to console him, i continue to keep him sane and once he’s asl

but what....now? by questioningmyself, literature

Literature

but what....now?

I was fine with mediocre. Average was my goal. To satisfy their meager needs, Was all that i could hope. i didn't have to try, so why push myself, i thought. i knew what i was capable, and for me, that was enough. but then you had to come along and see me, not as i was. you saw what i could do, and what it was i thought you pushed me harder than i've ever been pushed. you expected of me not much, at first. just try a little harder, do more than before. you pushed me farther, and farther, and now i've reached the edge of my sphere. i've been shaky up to now, but another step and then i do not know. you expect me to

Hated beloved by questioningmyself, literature

Literature

Hated beloved

I hate you. But it leaves a little, each and every day. A grain of sand picked off the beach. Slowly, I am breaking your hold on me. Funny, how strongly you affect me. Funnier still, when you tell me my emotions mean naught. That you are the only one who feels. I was sure this was real... I thought I feared your scorn. But worse, to remain unacknowledged. A shadow, fighting for a glimpse of you. I helped you. I fell in Love with you. I sacrificed myself for you. In hopes that, one day, though I knew this to be false hope, you would Love me too. You brought upon me the most awful desires. Thoughts unfamiliar stole into my fervent mind. I w

ridiculous poem-esque thing by questioningmyself, literature

Literature

ridiculous poem-esque thing

Why must I label myself? A certain type of love. I don't need to be placed in a category, It's you who fears freedom Call me whatever, just let me love I'm les or i'm bi or i'm straighter than hell a whore, a queer, a fag, who can tell. But don't tell me my feelings can't be, or aren't real. I love who I love, I KNOW what i feel. I don't limit myself by gender or race. Religion, or not, it's love for love's sake If i love you, I love you, simple as that. ~ apparently, being bisexual is frowned upon by both ends of the spectrum. which i think is a little silly, but, what're ya gunna do? i'm not a whore, actually, (surprise!), and

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Hated beloved by questioningmyself, literature

Literature

Hated beloved

but what....now? by questioningmyself, literature

Literature

but what....now?

I will be by questioningmyself, literature

Literature

I will be

I will be your anti-snow, I will be your snow. I will be everything for you; I will be the nothing you crave. I will make you feel To the point where You are blessedly numb. I will let you see The things you could not before, I will make you see The things you tried to ignore. I will be your rain I will wash away your sins I will be your devil Tempting you with all I hold. I will be your earth A constant An always Giving life Taking it away. I will be your life blood I will course through you. I will be your body I will help you live.

for him by questioningmyself, literature

Literature

for him

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Socks by intimachine, literature

Literature

Socks

You can't always win a nobel prize or vicarious eyes drive-by glances momentary chances while thinking of ways to rhyme biohazard with a 2 syllable word; I spew lizard, despite how absurd, and whether or not that strikes you in awe or raises a brow, or opens your jaw, regardless of whatever you're thinking right now, this has no relevance... to anything. At all. Sometimes you write about humanity's flaws, write to grant laughter, or analyze God, but then when you write, you imagine your bed! so maybe you'd rather be writing about... socks, instead. It shouldn't take long since i'm very much familiar and quite frankly,

Since I Was Young by dnmph, literature

Sweet Insanity by dnmph, literature

Love is Dead? by dnmph, literature

About questioningmyself

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United States
Deviant for 16 years
She / Her

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My Bio

Current Residence: Provo, Utah
Skin of choice: um, mine.

Tools of the Trade

pens, pencils, paint, paper, canvas, metal, camera, lack of sleep, emotion!

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questioningmyself

Jan 23, 2008

Devious Journal Entry

0 min read

Heya! All, how goes it? Um, to anyone I favorite-ed recently (there were a LOT of you. dA is completely full to bursting with so much talent, it's eating my insides. Kudos), and you happen to be reading my journal (yes, it COULD happen) I probably didn't tell you why, or if I did it wasn't the best explanation... So apologies. But I'll probably get to it, eventually. It was a hurried laziness, if that's any sort of explanation. But. Yeah, hey, thanks for sharing. Hope you get lots of coverage, you deserve it, all of you. And Ben! I finally landed myself a spiffy Kurt Vonnegut(t?) book. I'm excited. Though, don't ask what it's called, becaus

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questioningmyself

Dec 28, 2007

well,

0 min read

how was everyone's christmas/holiday festivities?? i wanna know how ya are, how things went, whatcha got, etc. etc. i got a girl, as ben knows, and i know alyssa has a boy. and, i got some neat books, and some bizarre clothing, which is my favorite type! ~ anecdote time: i was out delivering things to the neighbors (my grandparents always hand out goodies) except, i accidentally wished people happy hanukkah, because i was jewish last month (i'm trying out religions, to see which one is for me, if any) and i got some weird weird looks....it was funnier when it happened, come to think of it...but the entry was lookin' kinda short... so!

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questioningmyself

Dec 21, 2007

Devious Journal Entry

0 min read

i know, i really should post some new stuffs. and, i have things to post, i'm not THAT lazy. it's just all on a different computer. ....le sigh. i'm back at my house til sunday. it's terribly awkward. but, it's because my other grandparents are visiting, so...i guess it's worth it. blegh. and i'm off.