citysilence

dreams herself a dream come true

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07.31.11 by citysilence, literature

Literature

07.31.11

two years. two years of looking over my shoulder, down at my feet, over your head to a fixed, imaginary point so i won't have to make eye contact. two years, two years of questioning myself in the mirror asking why i wasn't the one to switch the track, flip the switch, be the subject instead of the predicate, the spark instead of the kindling-- two years. two years of fighting reflections, ideas, doubts, questions two years of changing my outfits one, two, seven times because this one is too short and this one is too tight and god help me i can't bear it if someone looks at me, i can't trust them, i can't trust anyone. two y

night breezes by citysilence, literature

Literature

night breezes

i've been having dreams lately dreams about "the future" where my hair is long and my feet are bare and my sundresses are long enough that my skin doesn't touch the wood of the swing on our porch (i've been having dreams lately, and there are things that are "ours"; there is an "us," there is a "we") i've been having dreams lately and though the dreams dissolve every morning and your fingers are never there tracing the curve of my waist there is hope in dreams, and the future is bright like sunbeams.

digestion by citysilence, literature

Literature

digestion

for days i kept the facts suspended above me floating on fishing line i taped to the ceiling an artful display of death and decay, the fermenting of feelings, and floundering. it was the third day when i stumbled from the tomb holding in my hands the pieces of events past. my eyes were rimmed red like the desert sun my mouth was dry as the desert sand. i held fragments of you in my fingers. i felt ghosts of you in my head. it was eleven pm on saturday when i took the first bite. the memory was full, flavourful, almost frightening in its intensity; sweet, like summer rain and yet bitter, coarse: like straight coffee grounds

it's not a f-cking metaphor by citysilence, literature

Literature

it's not a f-cking metaphor

he calls at eleven pm for help with math and the conversation turns to the usual holy trinity of terror: alcohol anger and absence. he says that your grandfather is fading fast, that he likely won't remember you because you don't visit him (nevermind that you live in another city) that grandfather seems to be falling backwards through time and we don't know if he'll ever hit the ground. you hang up, and you sit on your friend's bed and you shake, you hold onto your wrists and bit your lips and quiver shoulders writhing up and then down in an attempt to rearrange yourself around this information and you wonder what it all means.

i think about it all the time by citysilence, literature

Literature

i think about it all the time

there's a flight of stairs in one of the buildings on my campus with cement walls and cement stairs and round metal railings that go all the way up and today i was walking up it inside of a group of people with my head down, doing that thing we humans always do where you walk faster than you normally do because for some reason flights of stairs imbibe a feeling of urgency— and i looked up when i reached the landing and just stopped where i was suddenly and the people behind me made irritated noises and moved around me, the people ahead of me walked on, i felt kind of stuck in the moment because someone had written on the wall in real

unhinged by citysilence, literature

Literature

unhinged

i am desperately writing metaphors about baskets, bloodhounds, and baritones frantically spinning tapestries that make my misfortune seem magical like maybe, if i write myself far enough ahead, the shadows will never catch up with me that maybe it can be high noon all day and there will never be a darkness. i am constantly in the practice of turning tables flipping switches lying to myself with things like 'it gets better' 'you're okay' 'it's not so bad' but these buffers are rusted fenders and they're falling off the back of this car (there we go again with the metaphors--) crash is always imminent. the trouble, it seems

your name or mine by citysilence, literature

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07.31.11 by citysilence, literature

Literature

07.31.11

night breezes by citysilence, literature

Literature

night breezes

digestion by citysilence, literature

Literature

digestion

it's not a f-cking metaphor by citysilence, literature

Literature

it's not a f-cking metaphor

i think about it all the time by citysilence, literature

Literature

i think about it all the time

unhinged by citysilence, literature

Literature

unhinged

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Deviation Spotlight

The Truth About Existentialism by citysilence, literature

Literature

The Truth About Existentialism

And I fit my problems in the valleys 'tween the mountains of my stucco ceiling Painted mint green to freshen the taste of betrayal. I solved them by reading books about people whose lives I could never touch and feelings I could never taste. for all my artisan prowness, I just wasn't &#

The Truth About Existentialism

citysilence

Deviation Spotlight

Axel Love by citysilence, visual art

Axel Love

citysilence

About citysilence

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Artist

Canada
Deviant for 17 years
She / Her

Badges

My Bio

1. I am terrible at writing coherently about myself.

3. I look for meaning in places that it may not exist. If it doesn't exist, I make it exist.

5. I hate even numbers. I'd rather be odd.

7. I like to use words like "poignant" and "rapture."

9. I am a control freak.

11. I would like to meet you.

13. I love tea.

Current Residence: Ontario, Canada.
Print preference: As if someone would buy me a print. -snort-
Favourite genre of music: Christian Rock, Alternative
Operating System: Windows Vista :/
MP3 player of choice: iPod, fourth generation nano
Shell of choice: Turtle?
Skin of choice: Human.
Favourite cartoon character: Too hard to name one.
Personal Quote: Life makes the best story.

Favourite Visual Artist

You :)

Favourite Movies

The Prestige, V for Vendetta

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Phil Collins, Tree63, Casting Crowns, Journey

Favourite Writers

Edgar Allan Poe, Oscar Wilde, Henry David Thoreau, T. S. Eliot

Favourite Games

Diddy Kong Racing :D

Favourite Gaming Platform

<3 Nintendo 64

Tools of the Trade

My heart, paper, and a desire to let go.

Other Interests

Photography, writing, reading, making presents for people

Posts

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citysilence

Aug 1, 2011

that's it, then.

0 min read

So if you have looked at my newest deviation you will notice in the artist's comments that I made some statements about this account being too old for me. That is because... well, it is. I've had this deviantart account for four years. It feels like it's been forever. It's been ages since I felt some of the things I wrote about here--and it's time I separated myself from it. Originally, I thought I would leave deviantart completely, but there are some people on here I care about too much to completely do that and I don't want to lose the small but valuable interactions the people here give me. So I'll be moving to a new account. I'm not en

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citysilence

Jun 30, 2010

my thoughts on the g20 fiasco

0 min read

"On Sunday June 27th 2010 at approx 1:30pm I was walking with a friend on Dundas towards the Bus Terminal in Toronto in order to take the bus back to Guelph after attending a large peaceful G20 protest on Saturday. As we approached the intersection of Dundas and Elizabeth we noticed a large number of bike cops stopped at the North West corner of the intersection in the process of arresting two men. Along with a small number of other pedestrians we stopped to watch. We were standing at the North East corner of the intersection, across the road. After a few minutes, one of the cops yelled at the observers to move along. I was talking to my frie

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citysilence

Mar 21, 2010

birthday features! a week late! yaya!

0 min read

ahah oh gosh my life has been so busy lately! I meant to make this journal approximately... well, actually, exactly a week ago, but I literally worked 40 hours this week and when I wasn't working I was sleeping or glued to my guitar (did you know you can make your fingers bleed?) and so now I am just just just getting around to this. So anyone following me of late knows I've been doing the PromptOlympics... which are delightful and lovely and I hope they last forever. The prompt last week, which I regrettably missed out on because of my apparent desire to work myself to death (and pay my downpayment on residence next year, eek), was to do s