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About Deviant Artist xMo0Female/Unknown Recent Activity
Deviant for 11 Years
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Academic Decathlon Poster by xMo0 Academic Decathlon Poster :iconxmo0:xMo0 0 0
   I remember the excitement among my eight cousins and me as we all reached out to stroke the new puppy that peaked out from the box. I was four years old. At the time, I was unaware that this tiny black puppy-my dog, Sparky-would transform into a humungous German shepherd. Almost immediately after we got him, Sparky grew larger than me! He suddenly became so frightening. Every time I was with him he would chase me around the yard and jump on me, like a kid who still has not realized their parents can no longer carry them. When strangers passed by, my dog would go into a frenzy, delivering his deep, wild barks and gritting his sharp set of canines.
It took me years to get over my fear of Sparky. I think I was ten years old when I realized that I was finally as big as my dog. I could then withstand his excited leaps, and I found the greatest comfort in his thunderous bark, which told me that nothing outside could ever harm me. Because I could now fearlessly be near my dog, I
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16. Grain by xMo0 16. Grain :iconxmo0:xMo0 20 3
remember, we called this city a town
because we were meant for bigger things
it took us nothing to at last get out
but coming back took us everything
because the old back road is all bent out
we never really looked back enough
to recognize and confess to ourselves
that though this memory’s gone through much
I can still see Mom shut the windows down
when the drought was quelled by heavy rain
and the house still is just how it had smelled
when secondhand cars took us away
I’ve been meaning to revisit this place
but I just can’t accept what I felt
when we rode toward this city’s northern frame
I came home but it’s no longer hell
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Byronic Heroes
Mysterious, sexy, unattainable, and unreal. These aspects form the characters designed to steal the hearts of young girls. These are characters that girls “eek” about and use as examples to put down their male contemporaries, because the boys they know can never, ever achieve this level of desirability. More of my peers are becoming interested in with an eerily familiar concept of an unbelievably appealing man as the love interest. While these girls dream about “hot guys”, I prefer characters that focus less on surface traits and more on depth. Thus enters the Byronic hero.
Byronic heroes are idealized but flawed male characters. In romance novels, they often have heightened features such as charisma, intelligence, and seductiveness. Although they seem like perfect men, they are meant to have flaws that make them ooze with mystery, setting them apart from the flat characters of today. These are sexy qualities indeed, but by far their most powerful asset is that they
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With Clarity...
With Clarity from Black and White
There’s a portrait of a man in my school’s library. The dates underneath it made him out to be no more than twenty-three; but because he was a soldier, I swear he looked older. It was a curious thing to have his likeness present in my school. For one, this was a black and white portrait hanging among vivid posters. Also, he was Japanese. It’s hard to comprehend why the portrait of this man, Private First Class Sadao S. Munemori, gone since 1945, remains in Lincoln High School, a school in which over 80% of the students are Hispanic.
My image of Mr. Munemori is one that is black and white, and that’s what World War II seemed to me: frozen young faces in photographs. But here, in the very heart of my school, was my solitary connection to the very real war. This soldier had been a part of the famous 100th infantry battalion, a sea of mostly Japanese (No, they were Nisei; No, they were American). As a participant in war, he had thrown h
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oct 31 2008 by xMo0 oct 31 2008 :iconxmo0:xMo0 0 0 15. Dust by xMo0 15. Dust :iconxmo0:xMo0 60 16 backroad by xMo0 backroad :iconxmo0:xMo0 0 0 battle of the sexes by xMo0 battle of the sexes :iconxmo0:xMo0 0 3 lazy sport by xMo0 lazy sport :iconxmo0:xMo0 0 1
an open letter to the world
"let me be someone capable..."
until you pulled me away
I waded my feet in the sea-like sky
with no answer
we spent some volumes to found
room to exhale and room to expound
an endless row to fill in the blanks
of windows
where we climbed
little by little
because we had the time
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in our hands
with you, everything stops
ticks rest upon our conversation
your eyes and our laughter
a moment ago
did you know
something heavy pushes against my shoulders
as we swing each other around
I knew freedom had its price
well, maybe it's a surprise
but even while we are here
unsettling will always move and displace
the only time 'now' is in our hands
just laying back
without any of that disorientation
and I wonder what consciousness opts
your arms finding me
pushed firmly on the ground
I write away our give and take
the murmur of the earth's heartbeat
ours no longer apart
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a sober breeze gets to you
sensitivity chills you to the bone
ills and nightmares pushed back for now
while a dream plays in front of your eyes
endless narration in your head
'cause we're all together but wandering away
in thoughts, thinking how long we'll stay
in a winter night full of blurs
slurred speech and a deprivation of sleep
all the noises no longer being translated
as if the thought of time distracted us
in the end, everyone will disappear
leaving you enveloped in black, alone
and this isn't just all in your head anymore
you're probably high on insomnia
the last to leave tonight
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a song without escape
my ears bleed
as the message sinks in, seeps in
it's the first blast that cries out
the intermediates that lash out
and the ending that just won't end
the loudness that competes with my pulse
it has its claws on my chest
sinking beneath the flesh
into my bloodstream it crawls
and no pain can compare to this
the numbing in my mind
and the wrenching of my heart
and it just pulls and pulls
until the strings detach
until the threads of sound collapse
when the sound dies
when the cries stop
there's that ringing left in the ears
that just can't stop
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june 2008 by xMo0 june 2008 :iconxmo0:xMo0 0 0

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The Makeshift Artist
I am a gust of wind
I see myself in shards of broken windshield
As they scrape against the pavement
From your last accident
Decorating the streets with unstoppable nature
The curiosity of your fellow neighbor
And he can't help but co-exist
With what he can't control
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Its abstract design is almost artistic beauty
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Gravity whisking you away in its arms
To them, you had sunk in a blink
To you, it had lasted forever
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You were still caught at the bottom
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Taunting my suicide with your own
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  • Listening to: bon iver - blood bank
I log onto DA like, three times a year nowadays. It's been years since I started sharing resources, and whenever I log on, I am really glad that people are still using / discovering them! :) I really appreciate when you show me what you've made, so thank you to all those who link me to their work! I'm sorry that the most I can do now is fave your work, since I am too busy with school to sit and compose a meaningful comment :/

see you the next time I log on

Best Wishes!


Add a Comment:
Kurtzan Featured By Owner Jun 24, 2011  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Used your stock here : [link]

Thanks !
DeathOfATragedy Featured By Owner Dec 7, 2010  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the favourite. ;)
KrypticDust Featured By Owner Dec 7, 2010
Thanks for the :+fav: :D
BloodLustPyro Featured By Owner Apr 8, 2010  Hobbyist Photographer
Thank you so much for the :+fav:
66Stampede66 Featured By Owner Jul 8, 2009
I used your antenna brush here


Shtriga83 Featured By Owner May 17, 2009
I used your dust brushes here


misfitmalice Featured By Owner Jun 21, 2008
Thanks for the fav!
aphostol Featured By Owner Dec 4, 2007
[link] thanks =)
misfitmalice Featured By Owner Nov 23, 2007
Thanks for the watch!
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