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About Literature / Artist Cleary21/Male/United Kingdom Group :iconyoungwritersunite: YoungWritersUnite
For the young and young at heart
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Deviant for 4 Years
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Statistics 172 Deviations 1,656 Comments 4,617 Pageviews

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for the future,
blank for now,
alive as bark in the past.
During and in between all and each
I write these lines.
Time will bring them colour one day.
I know.
Who owns this now?
I look upon you with admiration.
Please take my messages upon you.
they are from the heart.

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Got two new things up which are for my university course, check them in the featured bit :)
We were growing up and our imaginations settling down. Eight years spent in the same room together almost every day couldn’t prepare our bonds for the changes we were about to go through. At the age of eleven a fresh start is needed.

In that last year of primary school I still played games in the Carlton Hill playground. Me and the few remaining classmates that weren’t pretending to be older than we were, still roamed the lands of our favourite videogames and fantasies at lunch-time. We picked up sticks which became vorpal blades and sliced through hordes of evil ghosts. We ran faster than sound in light up shoes with Sonic the Hedgehog and Knuckles the Echidna. While others sat around talking about crushes and trying to look cool. I’m not sure if they did, but I knew this was the last time that it would be socially acceptable to play games like this. Sadly, I thought, you don’t see adults or teenagers running around pretending to be Legendary Super Saiyans, blasting Kamehameha’s at the evil Freeza. Time showed me that there are some exceptions to this. I didn’t know that though. So I carried on with the knowledge in mind that things would change.

Everybody had to choose what secondary schools they wanted to go to. We all went to the open days, got free things and were desperately persuaded by teachers and students alike to be educated at their school. In Brighton and Hove there was Longhill, Cardinal Newman, Blatchington Mill, Varndean and Stringer. The latter two were the only ones I was considering. They were both directly opposite each other, sharing a huge field split only by a large verge. Legend had it they were rivals. Those who chose Stringer were mingers. Those who chose Varndean were sardines. People started to pick. The majority of my class and friends picked Varndean, but I didn’t know what I wanted.

After each of the school’s open days, Stringer appealed to me the most. This gave me a very difficult decision. I either started an almost entirely blank slate at Stringer, the school I preferred, or studied along-side all my friends for another five years at a place I didn’t like. There would be one person I knew if I went to Stringer: Jack Crockatt. I had known him since nursery, but he had moved house before reception and gone to a different school ever since. We still saw each other a lot though and continued to be friends. The thought of being able to see him more at secondary school helped tip the balance. If I hadn’t known anybody at all there I may not have gone.

It seemed like the best option. So I picked Stringer. After all, I thought, the people I had now spent the better part of eight years with would continue to be my friends, even if we weren’t at the same school anymore. I could keep them as friends and make new ones in a completely new environment. Plus we were only a field away.

So I left them and my playground adventures behind at the Carlton Hill in my mind. It was time for something new.
I heaved Aunt Mariam’s bag in through the front door.

“Laney, let your brother do it,” said Aunt Mariam.

“I can take a bag of clothes into a house, its fine.” I said. She was here again. The smell of cheap duty free perfume filled my nose, as it always did, the moment she stepped into the house. She was like a pink, paisley balloon filled with the stuff. Brandon reached the top of the grey, London stairs behind her. He smiled at me and raised his eyebrows behind her back. He was right, she’s family. We just have to live with it. He put the car keys in his pocket and walked into the house.

“Right, cup of tea anyone?” He said, rubbing his hands together. I glared at him.

“Brandon! You know that I am lactose intolerant!” Said Aunt Mariam. He remembered.

“Oh, sorry, Aunt Mariam,” he said, “but you can have it without-“

“Nonsense. Tea without milk is just pointless. Haven’t drunk it since I found out. I’ll just have an orange juice,” she said.

“Ah, I don’t think we have any,” he looked at me and I knew what was coming, “Laney, would you mind going to the shop for Aunt Mariam please?” asked my brother. I didn’t say anything, just grabbed my coat off the banister and started for the door.

“No, no don’t worry about that, Laney dear, I’ll just have a glass of water, thank you,” said Aunt Mariam. She walked her large body into the living room and took a seat on the sofa. Brandon looked at me. He saw my dull expression, but didn’t care. She was family. He flicked a pointing hand toward the kitchen. I went.

I turned on the tap, letting it fill the cup with tasteless London water and sighed. My Dad had been waiting for her in the living room and I could hear them talking now. Whenever she came over he enjoyed seeing his sister, but by day two all those feelings were replaced by annoyance and impatience. Sadly that’s all I ever felt for her.

I carried the glass through to the living room and wore my best fake smile.

“There you go, Aunt Mariam.” I said.

“Oh, thank you dear,” she said, “Did you take my bag upstairs?” I shook my head. “Would you do that for me?” she asked. I nodded and left the room, letting my smile drop into a scowl as soon as my back was turned. The rest of them continued to talk and laugh.

While I was dragging the bag up step by step, I wondered why it was so big. Was she going to be travelling around London? Maybe she was going to Gatwick tomorrow to catch a plane. Whatever the reason, I hoped it wasn’t that she was staying here for longer than a day or two.

I walked back into the living room to a cup of tea Brandon had made for me. There was a chair by the table in between Dad and Brandon. That seat was as far away as was socially acceptable from the stench of Aunt Mariam’s perfume. I took it. Then it came. The doorway to hell.

“Laney, Aunty Mariam is going to be staying here for a few weeks,” said my dad.…

Hey everyone, this is a brand new online magazine which my Fairytale of Kim Jong Un is going to be in! It's going to be illustrated as well so you'll get to read it with awesome pictures too. 

It would be great if you could give this page a like, and watch this amazing collaborative art magazine evolve. 

Much appreciated, thanks!
The end of the cave is so close. You jump. The boulder crashes to a stop behind you. More dust and rubble tries to reach you, but you are moving too fast for it. Out of the cave, away from the boulder, but there is still no time. The mountain is beginning to crumble. I watch you scramble up again and run to the Land Rover. You see me and shout my name. I wait for you to come. The car sets dust up behind it, wheels spinning, as rocks start falling around us. You drift around a rock and start coming towards me. I grab your outstretched hand and hold on tightly. You pull me into the truck and put your foot down. We tear off into the distance, away from that place. I look back and cannot see the mine-shaft opening anymore. The rocks and thrown up dust have blocked it. The mountain crumbles from the top in the middle like a huge invisible axe is being wedged into it. Then I look around at your face. It’s dirty, you’re sweating and your eyes are wide. You’re panting as you drive us into the desert, away from that place. In your lap, clutched tightly in one arm, I see a glint of gold. You got it. The sphere of Mai.
This is a short story I wrote quickly. Trying to improve my writing so any critical comments will be considered and appreciated. Went for short sentences and concrete descriptions. Didn't know what I set out to write originally. Let me know what you think. Thanks.
I'm not dead, nor is this page, I just haven't been bothering to upload much recently. I have mainly been posting my stuff from here onto Tumblr which is a more likely place to follow my updates and more recent poems. So, if you wanna see more of me, follow me on there if you have it! I will try to get round to posting stuff on here more again but only time will tell in its mad story telling ways. 

Now for the long and growing list of places you can find me: 









Now have fun! :D (Big Grin)
  • Mood: Optimism
  • Listening to: Laptop hum
  • Reading: What im writing
  • Watching: The screen
  • Playing: Psychonauts
  • Eating: nothing im ill
  • Drinking: your mumma ha


dude-im-alive's Profile Picture
Artist | Literature
United Kingdom
I'm 19 and I am a musician/poet. Here you will find poems, short stories, haikus and much more as well. Feel free to have a look around and please comment about whatever you feel afterwards, thanks.

I make music for video games too, so if you need music for a video game you are making, let me know and we can talk. I'm based on Newgrounds/soundcloud for the kind of things, so check the links above and contact me on either, or on here!

You can find my own songs and my DJ sets in the links in the journal entries, thank you.

Hope you enjoy my stuff.


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Add a Comment:
MistressofQuills Featured By Owner Feb 20, 2014  Student Writer
Thank you so much for the llama and watch!:D It really means a lot:heart:
dude-im-alive Featured By Owner Feb 21, 2014   Writer
That's alright :)
ReyMan21 Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2013
I thank you sir for the +fav.:)
dude-im-alive Featured By Owner Aug 22, 2013   Writer
dass coo
SolidMars Featured By Owner Aug 2, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
thank you kindly for the watch i'm glad you've found my work worth your time :iconeeeeeplz:
dude-im-alive Featured By Owner Aug 2, 2013   Writer
Well I read the first thing on your featured art and really liked your way of writing, the sentences and way you structure it, bringing light into what could be another dull fucking sentence, in the least rude to other people way possible :). The way you put things together in a sentence... it's refreshing and good basically :) np!
SolidMars Featured By Owner Aug 3, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
thank you i am glad you find my style interesting :) 
dude-im-alive Featured By Owner Sep 20, 2013   Writer
MrHuxley Featured By Owner Jun 24, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you kindly for the :+fav:!
dude-im-alive Featured By Owner Jul 8, 2013   Writer
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