http://search.deviantart.com/?q=by:VirgoSineNomine&section=today deviantART RSS for by:VirgoSineNomine en-us Copyright 2009, deviantART.com Wed, 16 Dec 2009 01:17:56 PST deviantART.com http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss http://s.deviantart.com/minish/widgets/apple-touch-icon-precomposed.png http://VirgoSineNomine.deviantart.com/journal/9426666/ http://VirgoSineNomine.deviantart.com/journal/9426666/ Wed, 19 Jul 2006 12:48:20 PDT
Yeah, that's it, congested. Like something in my chest that shouldn't be there and it's blocking me all up and making things just seem...bizarre. Even kind of impending, but not in a good way. I don't know, it just seems really surreal.

I look over at the TV and Reality Bites comes on. So yeah, I've never seen it, but I've always wanted to because Ethan Hawk is just pretty and I love Janine Garafalo. And I realize that...holy fuck, this really is everyone that I know. It's so funny. In a ... sad...Schindler's List kind of way *tilt of the head*

And I'm feeling so discontented, detached and after a weekend of acceptance, rough acceptance, but something I thought I could definitely get used to and really was used to, I mean, I slipped into the role very, very easily for some reason, but none the less, a weekend where I felt pretty damn good, got to chill with three really great people who I just immediately felt this kind of...almost audible -click- with. I mean, really, it was uneasy, but for some reason in the back of my head I thought...yeah, this could actually work. I mean, if allowed and stuff. I don't know, I'm ranting, but it felt good.

Then again, maybe I'm just affection starved and going out of my skull, who knows *cackles*

But anyway, after that, I'm laying down, as always...I'm never alone but always lonely.

You get that feeling? Where you're always in the room with someone...you never have time to yourself, but these people you're with, they're distant. They're unreachable. They have no...well, none of that warmth, almost like no pulse, like stone pillars that move around you, as opposed to wind that moves around and through you. You inconceivably alone...or rather...never alone but always lonely. Locked inside yourself. Caged Bird kind of bullshit. And really, you know you have no choice, so you just close down and cope.

It's even worse when you'd love nothing more than to reach just a tendril of thought, of energy, of...something, a hand, a toe, a foot, a hair even and reach out to someone who's three feet away sleeping peacefully. But you know that that energy would simply recoil, whiplash and slice you across the throat. Not in a slasher movie grotesque way, but in a razor blade, paper thin, going to run a strip of paper across your throat so that a hair of blood trickles down your collarbone, down your chest and dries across one breast or the other and you slowly die of infection as opposed to quick blood loss.

That kind of palpable, startling, body wrenching, gut clenched, hybernation mode ain=.

...and then Benny comes upstairs.

Yeah, Benny, my sister's dog.

And he pulls at my blanket I'm wrapped up in, as if some felt could possibly protect me, when in reality it's Addy's blanket and I'm simply cocooning myself in the a furry covering or pins and needles (and I'm not talking about the exacto-knife blade I found in my leg this morning from the futon either). It's ironic none the less.

But right, Benny. He pulls at the blanket and noses his way underneath (he's odd like that...he likes being under a blanket. And he coils up in that sweet spot. You know that spot. The spot in your midsection when you're curled on your side, in a lazy fetal position and there's a cove there, between the top of your thighs and your shoulders that creates a perfect cove, a sanctuary for someone to lay in.

And oddly enough, when you do have someone to hold there, it's almost like you get more pleasure and safety from it than they do...people fit together like that, like puzzle pieces.

*laughs* Like the postal service says!

I am thinking it's a sign
that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images
and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate
that God himself did make
us into corresponding shapes
like puzzle pieces from the clay

Which makes me think that the next line is most surreal and true as well...

It's true, it may seem like a stretch
but its thoughts like this that catch
my troubled head when you're away
when I am missing you to death
when you are out there on the road
for several weeks of shows
and when you scan the radio
I hope this song will guide you home

As if there was someone out there that could fit into that little space between the tops of my thighs and my shoulders when I'm coiled on my side, staring... ]]> ~VirgoSineNomine http://VirgoSineNomine.deviantart.com/journal/9238337/ http://VirgoSineNomine.deviantart.com/journal/9238337/ Sat, 01 Jul 2006 02:51:22 PDT

Not to mention that it completely destroys people.

Tell me that that isn't absolutely just...makes you want to stab something repeatedly?

"Look, Amy-chan. We've know each other for ever. I'm comfortable with you and I knwo for a fact your'e comfrotable with me. We really need to talk because w'ere more than just frieedns. I love you, Yamx, and I think you should try me for a week. We would really mesh together well."

He's obviously drunk.  He's an amazingly articulate person...and only spells like hell when he's drunk.  ... ...he rolled around in poison ivy once for me when he was drunk... ...


...okay so I've been stalking him agian... *mutter* I can't help it...once again he's been in my dreams.  Which is why I haven't been sleeping.  And Why I can't focus.  And you know what, I deserve it.

I do.  I really do.  He put up with me and my baggage in his head for so long, now, apparently it's my turn.  But GOD FRACKIN DAMNIT... ... ... *curls up some* ... ... yeah the last time he thought he meshed well with something he spent 7 years in hell.


Damnit why can't I let him go?  Why why why why?  It doesn't make any sense whatsoever.  But...damnit.  Just...damnit. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck you Atlus Parker.  Fuck you Derek Lee Distler.  Fuck you Rhy'Din.  Fuck you role playing losers.  Fuck you Sony.  Fuck you Pokemon.  Fuck you Massachusettes.  Fuck you Backstreet Boys.  Fuck you Garbage.  Fuck you Selena.  Fuck you Evanescence.  Fuck the park by my mom's house.  Fuck waterbeds.  Fuck you Rochester Village.  Fuck you Target.  Fuck you Joshua.  Fuck you Metal Gear Solid.  Fuck you Final Fantasy.  Fuck you Angel.  Fuck you Pojo.  Fuck you MindSpire.  Fuck you Base Gastly.  Fuck you Space Ghost.  Fuck you Amy.  Fuck all of you. 

... ... ...



...and most of all...Fuck you Samantha Alyss Schacht.  You had it all.  You had everything you would ever need.  But you were young and stupid and you threw it all away.

(And fuck you for being so reminiscent of the 25th hour!)

and I deserve it.  And I deserve the fact that he'll never know.  I deserve this aching loneliness that eats away at my soul.  I deserve to be around people that are there but never -there-.  I deserve to be reminded daily in everything that I think and do and strive to be that I am the way I am...because of him.  I owe it all to him.


... ... so I'll put on a happy face again and laugh when Nate talks about him and asks to see his funny pictures.  And I'll laugh along.  And I'll smile when I talk about his stories, our stories.  I'll giggle when Whitney says she remembers Joe and wanting to go fishing.  I'll pretend not to die a little when I come across a picture of his or a sketch or a writing.  I'll pretend it never happened when I walk past the places in the park or around town where I swear I can almost hear him.  I'll never visit another Target.  I wont live in Rochester Village, but only supposedly because their laundry room is expensive.  I'll pretend that I learned to love the language and know what I know because of my own ambition.  That I don't envy and adore him.  I wont cringe outwardly when I hear his name.  I'll pretend that some of my facial expressions aren't stolen straight from him, or my love for theater and acting and writing.


He was my guardian angel...no matter how unwilling.

I told him I wanted to fly and he willingly gave me his wings.  And I flew. I was saved.  I saw the most amazing new things.  I learned so much.  I grew and developed and was overjoyed.

And then one day I realized that in giving me his wings...he lost them.  He gave them to me and I took them without realizing that I left him behind.  Fallen.  Stuck.  And I tried, I really tried to go back, to heal that mistake, to give them back to him...but his wounds were scarred and I couldn't reattach them.  And I tried to pick him up, but he was too far stuck in the mud and grit that I left him in.  And in the end... ...he told me to leave.

...and I did.

I was a fucking idiot and I left with all those gifts he bestowed on me.  And I carried those wings...a daily reminder of what I did.  Of what I threw away.  Of who I threw away.

So I tore them off.  I clipped my wings trying to purge him from my system.  Trying to tear every piece of him that had seeped into my being, to become pure again.  But it was too much...and so much of what he had given me had become part of me...unable to be removed and still so reminiscent of him.

Now I sit again.  In that grit, the same grit I left him in.  The dirt, the dust, feathers and blood laying around me, strewn about, stinking to high heaven and decaying, but my feet are too heavy to move from lack of use.  Th... ]]> ~VirgoSineNomine http://VirgoSineNomine.deviantart.com/journal/9205198/ http://VirgoSineNomine.deviantart.com/journal/9205198/ Tue, 27 Jun 2006 22:30:15 PDT
So, here is a work in progress, something that I add to when I feel the overwhelming urge to do so. Some are original momentos. Some are stolen shamelessly from songs. Others stolen shamefully from books and other forms of media. While others will require you to stretch your mind a little bit and concider the myriad of different manners that that simple fragment sentance could be let loose in.

Questions, qualms, comments...please feel free.

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Adores making a fool of herself for no apparent reason other than to humor herself and possibly others
Is just as Quick to Smile as to Scowl, and can make both equally charming
Will Rend you Limb from Limb With her Rhetoric
Is Consistantly Inconsistant
I Just Want to Have my Cake and Eat Yours, Too

Loves the word "Quiver"
Thinks it's Delicious when people Describe things as "Stale"
Has an Obscene Love Affair with the Piano
Thinks FF8 was better than 7 (SO SUCK IT, FANBOYS!)
Dances in her Slippers in the Kitchen
Sings in the Shower even Though She's no Good at it
...and in the car
...and whistles while walking in crowded halls
...and silent classrooms
Headbangs with the Best to "Bohemian Rhapsody"

Doesn't get Along with the General Populace
Is not the Girl you are Looking For
Is Concerned when People Hate her
Is Deathly Afraid when they Love Her
Acknowleges that she Sucks as Relationships

Can Spell "Magic" WITHOUT a "K", and Like it
If you Don't Get that Joke, you Haven't Listened to Enough Something Corporate

Can Kick your Ass and Smile while Doing it
Will help Bandage you up Afterward
Intimidates the Masses
Doesn't Mean to

Plays Video Games in the Nude
Is an Equal Opportunity Employer
Thinks Tickle Fights are the Best Kind of Foreplay
Is Quotably Delicious

Drives a Manual
Tells Inappropriate Jokes
Loves Rough Housing
Crochets one Hell of an Afghan

Is Not a Pretty Girl, That is Not What I Do
Doesn't Want to be a "Pretty Girl"
Wants to be More than Just a "Pretty Girl"

Is Vengeance Incarnate
Emotional and Passionate about her Cause

Worst Enemy you Could Ever Have
Most Loyal friend you Could Ever Hope For
Can't turn Away Anyone who Asks for Help

Is an Emissary of a Level of Truth that most find 'Too Real' to Look at
Is not Afraid to Expose Reality for what it is

Doesn't Believe there is Such a Thing as "Bad" Knowlege
Can Laugh at a Funeral, but will Never Cry at a Wedding
Likes Capitalizing Random Words

My Heart Needs a Polygraph
Puts her Heart in a Paper Bag
Reminds Herself that Matches that Burn Down Bridges are Laid with the Noblest Intentions
Some People just Smell Like Home

Is a Girl Just Trying to Finally Come Clean, Knowing Full Well They'd Prefer she was Dirty and Smilling

Scars are Souveneers from the Past
I'm an Empty Space that can't be Replaced
I'm a Single grain of Sand That will Slip through Your Hands
I am a Raging Success as a Failure
I Am A Pirate
I will Not Hesitate to Plunder Your Booty

I laugh at your Transparency
You're my New Best Friend
I can Mend Your Fucked up Life
Healing is Difficult and Often Results in Psychosomatic
Judge me. Feel Free, Because the Freer you Feel, the Freer you'll Let Me Be

Favorite and Only Real Nickname is "Valkyrie"
Won a Golden Globe for Best Real Life Performance

I Have a Long Story
If you Promise to Hold onto Every Word, I Promise to Tell You Everything.

-§A

---Over Dramatic Inside Quote of the Moment---
They Call me the Queen of Swords-- For Someone must Bestow onto the King of Hearts his Blade, and I am just the One to do it.

I am The Dread Pirate Samantha "The Valkyrie" of the S.S.Skylark Under Captain Addy "Peacock" Mathias. No Ninja Shall Ever Surpass the Unbridled, Pure and Simple Awesomeness that is Me. Fear me in all My Obscene Glory! RAWR!

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Love and Assorted Pieces of Lint Plucked Sweetly from My BellyButton by Scantilly Clad Transvest... ]]> ~VirgoSineNomine