All right, I got tagged by the wonderful
to share 10 things about me that you might not know.
So I'll make it short and sweet:
1) I love yellow and it's been my favorite color since I was born pretty much. (I know that it's obvious but I felt it had to be said
)
2) I speak 3 languages
3) I'm learning Japanese and Sign language right now
4) I would love to move to a small little town in Japan but indoor plumbing is a must
5) I can't live without french fries or any style of potatoes
6) I want to start an animal shelter (as soon as I get enough funds to do so
)
7) Aladdin and The Little Mermaid are my favorite cartoons of all time (I know that I'm old but I love cartoons
)
...I never thought it would be this hard think up 10 things about myself...
8) I ride dirtbikes and I love it (Don't get me wrong I am not sporty or outdoorsy, I actually don't watch any sports besides supercross!!! My idea of a sport is competitive shopping
)
9) James Stewart Rules! and Chad Reed sucks
10) I would love to finish and publish my book!
That is all I got
This is my December feature with the theme "Yellow Madness". This is an open feature so if you want me to include your work in this feature just note me. Remember, it must follow the theme.
This amazing shot is dedicated to my obsession with yellow by the awesome deviant
!!!!!!!
New Additions to the "Yellow Madness"
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These are the winner of F*CK Cancer Contest. It was a very emotional contest and filled with very beautiful heartfelt entries. Please take a look:
First Place
Goodbye Dear Mom,
I'm not a good son. I wanted to open with that because once the truth is stated, there's nothing left to hide. I'm not. It's alright, I know. I could have been spending more time with you, maybe just to talk or to listen. I didn't. I'm selfish. I've always been.
Some regrets we carry until the day we die. Some memories we cherish until that day as well. I remember Dad calling me on his cell. I had it because I was working for him. I was at the dump. I was emptying the flatbed of garbage with Robert. I remember the smell. It was stifling.
When Dad told me, I was numb. I was numb to the reality, numb to the stagnant air of refuse discarded by our society. I was numb to the nail that pierced the heel of my shoe and punctured my foot only moments after I learned. I remember the tetanus shot.
You have cancer. You have it your lung. A destructive cell that will spread through your system, attacking you. Killing you from th
Second Place
1000 Paper CranesI.
We whispered prayers into the corridors
while I spoke into your ribcage,
telling lies to our skeletons
to help you understand.
you said they loved
watching me wax poetic
while I dripped candlelight into your hands.
we watched the dust motes
cover our skin
while I taught you how to fly.
(you were always too afraid to fall
and too afraid to land).
II.
It wasn't lovesongs we sang;
it was half-forgotten hymns.
we never wanted to believe
but you said ghosts exist
without compassion,
and without sins.
I told the doctor
his medication clipped your wings.
III.
I fed you sweet words
tucked in between
candy-canes
and licorice
While I cried in secret every mo(u)rning
pressing tears beneath
the fragile scales
of angelfish
The doctors said
we needed to prepare.
I told them I was kissing
dandelion flowers;
hoping for a wish.
IV.
we counted every soft bruised bone
with lover's temperaments
as your temperature rose and fell.
The doctors crushed them in their hands
when they spoke of vital signs
and
Third Place
Fuck You, CancerKay didn't want it.
No, no, no, no, no.
"No."
She screwed the shiny leaflet up into a tight ball, not caring that the sharp edges dug into her palms, and threw it into the open fireplace, smugly watching the flames eat up her information. It was permanently ingrained now anyway.
She didn't want alopecia. To have to wrap her bald head in scarves and wigs that itched. She didn't want to vomit her stomach up every time she tried to keep some form of nourishment in it. She didn't want her red blood cells to die away so all she had energy for was to lie down and sob. She didn't want her skin to be so sore and fragile her legs would bleed freely every time she shaved, and one good sneeze could be detrimental. She didn't want her nails to blacken and split, her flesh to swell up, bulbous and shiny and bloated. She didn't want to tremble and convulse, and not have a steady enough hand for icing, or enough nerve endings to feel the soothingly smooth skin of her husband's body. She
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