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Random GNR QuoteI haven't spoken to Slash in ten years. I love the guy, I always wanted everyone to know how great he was, but... I was just talking to Izzy the other day though.
FYI GuysI didn't forget about anybody's requests. I need to shape the plots and decide which one to work on first...
Believe it or not that's a pretty difficult choice. A lot of those requests are wonderful ideas. I'm not joking- some of those ideas you guys came up with I never even thought of and I can come up with some pretty wild shit.
So...I'm sorry November-Rain14, lightbleueyes, 80SBARBIEDOLL, and ILoveIzzyStradlin. I know I promised to have your stories up before Christmas Break but I ran out of time...
I'll get 'em up before February. I promise!
I know I submitted a story yesterday but I've been working on Returning to Lafayette for five months. It was done and had to be submitted.
Inspiration of AoROr Angels of Rock for those who truly don't know.
My dreams are very strange. Most of the time I don't remember them.
HOWEVER, like Marry Shelly's Frankenstein this fan-fiction came to me in a dream. Well a part of a dream.
Like most of my memories whenever I try to pull this dream out of my mind the edges are blurry. Most of the dream is covered in a simple colorless fog that's opaque enough for me to not see most of it.
What much I can see is this:
Axl Rose. He's got these long leathery looking black wings. One of then is torn slightly. (It's now Axl so you know) He's glaring somebody down. Through the dream fog enters Slash. He too have the mysteriously charming wings but his aren't torn.
They glare at each other and I can feel the tension in the air. Then suddenly everything becomes icy cold. As if someone froze the air in a cold snap. I feel this presence then. Of someone who doesn't belong.
I try to call out to Axl and Slash, who have somehow transformed into their 1980s'-19
To Do List for 2014 for Me. :3Finish up AoR (Angels of Rock)Finish up ASC (A Second Chance)After finishing ASC start spin-off stories....Um.........Honestly is that it...?Shotguns N' Petals is more of a joke than a serious story so I'm not worried about it......I honestly think that's it.Probably should leave the bullet format....
But MKM, what about my/someone else's request?
Mehhhh I'll work on them the remainder of this week and next week. I don't go back to school until the 6th of January.
Um....Other than the ASC spin-off stories (WHICH SHALL REMAIN A SECRET UNTIL ASC COMES CLOSER TO THE END) really that's it....AoR isn't planned to be a series but who knows?
......I hope I come up with more GNR ideas...or some Sixx A.M. ideas or Motley Crue ideas or even AC/DC ideas. Honestly surprised nobody's asked for an AC/DC thing yet...
By the way, I know my AC/DC folder is basically empty. It'll be filled up later on when ASC moves on and you will understand what I mean by that w
Meme n ShitTagged by Mamiemusicwade
1. Do you draw, paint, sculpt, or other?
Other. I write.
2. Who is your favourite solo female musician?
Nobody. I don't really listen to female musicians...
3. Who is your favourite guitarist? (Up to 5)
IN NO ORDER:
1. DJ Ashba
3. Izzy Stradlin
4. Angus Young
5. Mick Mars
4. Who is your favourite lead singer? (Up to 5)
Again, in No Order:
1. Axl Rose
2. James Michael
3. Vince Neil
4. Freddie Mercury
5. Brian Johnson
5. What genre of music is best?
Rock n roll. Especially '80s glam rock.
6. What was your favourite show growing up?
Um...I had a lot. There wa
Fears Meme the dark
 staying single forever
 being a parent
 giving birth
 being myself in front of others
 open spaces
 closed spaces
 flowers or other plants
So Far: Three
[Half of This One] being touched (If it's sexually then yes. Very much so.)
 deep water
 the ocean
 boyfriend's/girlfriend's dad
 boyfriend's/girlfriend's mom
 jumping from high places
So Far: Five point five (5.5)
 crossing hanging bridges
 being robbed
 large crowds of people
 having great responsibilities
 doctors, including dentists
So Far: Seven point five
 incurable diseases
 Friday the 13th
HauntedI see her there with
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
How to love a poet: Expect them to be flawed,
a field of wild flowered-
& an inability
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
in which I gain sentiencesave room
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
Fan Fictions Shouldn'tTo me
A fan fiction should not be "perfect"
Now there is such thing as a well written fan fiction
But to me
Fan fictions can't be perfect
They're a writer's practice
A writer's way of learning
Learning how to write
How to spread our wings and grow
How to express emotions
Like anger, sadness, and happiness!~
How to describe
To paint a pictue in the reader's head
They shouldn't be perfect
Whether it's grammar
Where the " " s go
They help writers learn what to do
And what not to do!
It's all part of a writer's job
Perfection is only seen
That are published
Like The Garden of Eve
The Harry Potter series
Percy Jackson and the Olympians
The Hunger Games
Even To Kill A Mockingbird
And Catcher in the Rye
Perfection is only for stories
Fan fictions on the other hand
Are the stepping stones
On a writer's watery path
To writing literary
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More