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About Varied / Hobbyist Bree HageFemale/United States Recent Activity
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Literature
If Temporary Could Be the New Forever
Tonight I'm curled up in my bed, listening to melancholy love songs. I've not yet changed out of the days clothes into something warm and soft, so my legs are hidden under a comforter as familiar to my eyes as my own childhood, but I don't really mind. Not right now. Not when I'm sitting here trying to shape my words into something that expresses this feeling I have inside me. Besides, the chill always makes everything so much sharper. So much more real.
Trying to explain it is difficult, but it's this throbbing in my chest that I have no name for. It hurts sometimes, if I drop my guard. Other times I just close my eyes and shut it out. Pretend that nothing matters besides that very moment. Not the stares. Not the whispered comments. Not the fact I know that the feeling is temporary, because you are. Temporary is all I've really had, after all.
And I've always been foolish, in growing fond of things I can't keep.
Its not so much that I think the image of myself foolish, just the knowin
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Literature
Rabbit Heart
I always find beginnings troublesome. Trying to figure out how to word that first sentence that will catch the eye and beckon you to continue following it. I can spend the better part of a day just staring at a blank screen, waiting for it to come to me sometimes.
And it's worse when trying to write something about myself for you. It feels very personal. Very revealing. Because when my words are about someone else, I can put so very much of myself in them that I'm baring my soul to you and you never even notice; masking the 'Me' behind the voice of another. But I don't have that silk screen when I'm talking to you so directly.
And so really I'm stalling. Because I'm supposed to tell you how I view my own life, or so the prompt says; a confession. Even thought that feels too much like giving you some sort of ammo against me. An inside look that no one else gets to see.
But then, it is not as if it is a secret either, that I live my life in a series of moments. Each one is this bright, i
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Literature
A Tale of Last Chances
Sometimes I like to think that things happen because they are meant to. And other times I'm quite convinced the universe just wants to watch me burn. And maybe it does. Who am I to judge?
You see, it gives me questions. Fitting my life around them to make me ask, making sure that I have the opportunity to in the first place, really, because they need to be asked. And on those rare occasions, It gives me a moment in which I must be the one who can answer them.
Life has given me many, each unique, each just as powerful as the last. Each as able to grab you by the throat and pull you in. And I keep them all hidden away in a box under my bed. It's made to look like a book, with a glass of wine on the cover. Mainly because my questions outgrew the shoebox. An ever expanding collection of 'what if' that will one day overflow.
What if the one that got away, came back?
It sounds like it would be a dream come true. Like it would be the storybook ending to your fairytale. Cue the kiss and the cu
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Literature
The Dance of Predator and Prey
It was a regular day in which it happened. The sun was shining no brighter than the day before, and there was not a cloud in the sky. The wind did not howl through the trees, nor did crows caw an ominous warning as she set out, embarking on the journey of another day.
There was no warning of the things to come, but then, that's how these things usually happen, as opposed to how they are told in fairy-tales.
It did not rain on the day that they met on the train.
She on her way to her classes. Him… She never did discover why he had come to be on her route that day. Sitting across from her normal seat as if he had done so a hundred times. But he was there, staring out the window, fathomless eyes in a shade of blue so jarring that she wondered if they were indeed real, partially obscured by shaggy black hair that was sticking up in carefully arranged disarray.
She turned to stare at the world rushing past as well, unwilling to break the moment of peace.
When he turned to her, he pause
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Literature
I Want to be a Word
I was going to start this with 'I am ___', as usually writing out my thoughts helps me to clarify them; I find my answers though the creation of prose whether it be beautiful or grotesque. Sloppy or eloquent. Dramatic or understated.
But as my fingers moved to touch down onto the keys, for the life of me I could not find a single word to place there.
Quite a few raced though my head, but no single one that would really do justice to this thought.
I am many words, with many meanings, and many forms.
I can create and destroy with these words, but I also need them. They are a fundamental aspect of my very being. And where as I can spout them with the greatest and barest of ease, I have a harder time believing them. I create beautiful words and string together beautiful sentences to form beautiful prose. But in their basest form; I cannot believe them.
The simple words.
The ones I tell myself, rather than the world.
I feel myself on the edge of something. A revelation or some such that I c
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Literature
Some Nights it Feels like there are Fireworks...
Some nights it feels like there are fireworks in my eyes. Exploding into sound and sensation and color. Making my head spin and my body sway, making my breath catch and my heart race. Making me gasp.
I'm six feet from the ground and faintly realize I'm smiling.
The feeling's just too good to resist. So they pour like tears into my fingertips and onto the page. Too quickly for me to process, but spiraling out of me into something that feels beautiful, and strange, and white hot against the keys.
When I'm in that moment, it's all I can think about. All I can dream about. I'm living and breathing and drinking words from the very air around me. And I'm laughing, because it tastes so very delicious on my tongue.
The fireworks are like a storm in my heart that's desperate to loose itself onto the page. The wind and the rain and the thunder that make me want to dance and sleep and dream.
I want to spin in the rain and beckon to the lightning as we play in the grass. Me and the s
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Literature
Tonight I Plucked Your Memory from a Star
Tonight I sat on the hood of my car and watched the sky come crashing down.
The steal was cold even through all my clothing and the wind chilled me to the bone, licking against the bared flesh of my toes, but the stars twinkled against a velveteen background of a deep blue so dark it was nearly black. And that made it worth it.
To watch the stars as they fell from the heavens, bright glimmers of red-gold flashes in the darkness. Shimmering across the sky for merely a moment before disappearing again on their voyage to some unknown place. It was indescribable; no pretty stringing together of words I can create would do justice to the feeling of laying there in the darkness. The streetlight casting the world in a dark orange just out of the corner of my eye, but not really disrupting the peace that I found in the momentary reprieve.
I sang as I laid out there in the dark, with no real thought to who might hear. I allowed myself a moment of shedding my self-consciousness and just sang for
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Wrapping Hands by velvet-sometimes Wrapping Hands :iconvelvet-sometimes:velvet-sometimes 1 19 Self Portrait of a Wannabe Novelist by velvet-sometimes Self Portrait of a Wannabe Novelist :iconvelvet-sometimes:velvet-sometimes 3 0 A Velvet Flavored Cocoon of Disgruntlement by velvet-sometimes A Velvet Flavored Cocoon of Disgruntlement :iconvelvet-sometimes:velvet-sometimes 1 4 Sitting in a Tree... by velvet-sometimes Sitting in a Tree... :iconvelvet-sometimes:velvet-sometimes 2 3 Shinji and Velvet by velvet-sometimes Shinji and Velvet :iconvelvet-sometimes:velvet-sometimes 1 0 Adriana Bates by velvet-sometimes Adriana Bates :iconvelvet-sometimes:velvet-sometimes 0 0 Pirate Girl by velvet-sometimes Pirate Girl :iconvelvet-sometimes:velvet-sometimes 0 0 Bus Dreams by velvet-sometimes Bus Dreams :iconvelvet-sometimes:velvet-sometimes 0 0 Affections Touching Across Time W.I.P. by velvet-sometimes Affections Touching Across Time W.I.P. :iconvelvet-sometimes:velvet-sometimes 10 4

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A Little bit of Sentience

Journal Entry: Sat May 19, 2012, 10:55 PM
:iconvelvet-sometimes:



So, in all my infinite wisdom, I've decided to write for Camp NaNoWriMo this year. In Both June and August. Camp NaNoWriMo is basicly just a Summer-Camp themed NaNo, to which you can find information both here: campnanowrimo.org/ and here: www.nanowrimo.org It's still 50k words in 30 days, with the same stipulations as the main challenge, just.... Campy.

You even get a 'Cabin' and 'Bunk-mates'. You can choose to allow the site to pick your group at random, or you can request campers. Sorry guys, but all my slots are filled. My Bunk-mates for June are to be: :iconmeggiegal: ; :iconlyrainthedark: ; :iconnaqaashi: ; :iconkcopela3: ; Caleesci ; :iconx3-bittersweet: ; Meg Nevermore. So far though, August is free; I've not gotten any solid requests for that go 'round yet as not many people know what they're to be doing that far in advance. So if you need a bunk-mate for August, let me know. Though I have a few interested friends who might be doing that one, and they have priority slots. ^^

And with 12 days until the start I've also already decided on the novel I'm to work on; My current pet Project:

Sentience
"Some memories never leave us behind, and the bonds forged in lifetimes past retain remembered strength in jars and dreams. Hope rides the sharp edge of shaped glass and the bittersweet bite of second chances. Sometimes you just have to believe in magic..."

  • Listening to: Only a Few Things ~ Above & Beyond
  • Reading: Trashy Romance Novels
  • Drinking: Cold Mint and Vanilla Tea

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velvet-sometimes
Bree Hage
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
Drinking cheap gas-station coffee out of a paper cup reminds me of kissing you. We're not exactly tired, but weary, and the harsh flavor becomes washed-out colors and beard stubble. Becomes long trips with hours left, and you haven't gotten a shower. Becomes rough scratchy kisses at a stop light, and my feet are on the dash. You become my Quik Stop Coffee.
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:iconfirstsin:
firstsin Featured By Owner Jun 29, 2013
Thanks for the fav :blowkiss:
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:icons-h-a-n-a-j-a:
s-h-a-n-a-j-a Featured By Owner Feb 21, 2013  Hobbyist Photographer
Hiii!
Thank you for the fav! You're welcome!
If you need many informations of me, visit my :facebook: fanpage: [link]

Thanks for all!
Yours
Shanaja♥
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:iconeris-e:
Eris-e Featured By Owner Dec 1, 2012  Student General Artist
Thanks a lot for the :+fav: :la:
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:iconvelvet-sometimes:
velvet-sometimes Featured By Owner Dec 1, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
No problem ^^
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:iconyouinventedme:
YouInventedMe Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2012   Writer
(a very belated) thanks for the :+fav: on i hope to see you.
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:iconvelvet-sometimes:
velvet-sometimes Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Not a problem. ^^
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RottenRagamuffin Featured By Owner Oct 6, 2012   Digital Artist
:iconredroseplz: Thank you for adding ”Flora” to your favourites. :iconredroseplz:
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:iconforgottenpantaloons:
forgottenpantaloons Featured By Owner Sep 23, 2012  Hobbyist Digital Artist
aw, thank you for +watching!i'm glad you like my art, :']
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RaymondThornton Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2012  Professional
Thanks for the fave, greatly appreciated!
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Hyung86 Featured By Owner Aug 23, 2012
Thanks u so much for the fav ^^
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