dedNot sure how badly I miss that, really.
Anyway enjoy what little I left, most of it just words. Always just words.
~spycer
SpycerNewest
AnnorDear Journal,Annor
Now that I've left, it's time that I write a record of myself and my thoughts, so as to learn from them over time.
I live in a place of nature. My family lives in a cave, near to the Trees of Life, between the Valley of Vipers and the Sea. Two days ago I left my home. Today I will come to a new land, the land of Metal. That's what grandpa calls it. A land where everything is made of metal and no trees grow, on the other side of the world. The ship I travel on now came from that country, and it cost me everything I could get toget
by ~spycer
zen climbHere we go again. It's friday night, and I know it's comming. Third time this week, and I'm looking forward to it. And this time around, she's comming with. Wonderful. Incredible. Uniquie. It's an oprotunity, but worse, it's terrifying. We pull by the building, searching. One car, near the back, and one light on in the trailer. Should be fine. We park a block and a half away, near the headlight looking house. They seem to have lost a lightbulb since last time, so it won't look like a car anymore, but it was funny when it did. We exit the vehicle and take a look arouzen climb
by ~spycer
shortTormented and lost, he walked. Searching the shadows instinctively, he marched along, annoyed at the light rain and breeze tossing his trenchcoat about. Soon he would arive, and shortly thereafter it would be done. Three weeks before he had encountered them, standing under a tree, staring at him. One stood against the trunk, arms crossed, reflective lenses menacing. His two companions to one side, only there incase they were needed. Nothing visible indicated weapons, but the air of danger was tangible and unmistakeable. He had tried to walk past them, trying to ignore their precense on the property, bshort
by ~spycer
guessthere once was a boy, who lived in a home. it was a humble home, and he rarely had anything more than the few things he needed, but somehow he still found himself content, for the most part. one day, as he went about his usual routine of walking and fishing and staring at the sky, he found a small box. inside the box he found a ring, a ring of gold. he thought to himself "with this, maybe i could buy myself a larger house. maybe even more!" so he began to hurry home.guess
as he ran, a pair of eyes caught interest in him, and began to follow. &nbs
by ~spycer
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Ich bin namenlos.
As you see what upsets me the most is the lack of real intereaction between the artist (whoever's turn is it) and those who appreciate their work. I get many views and downloads on my latest pieces, yet very few comments. What I need is feedback - I want you to add to my writing with your comments. Show me you're an individual capable of more than deviant art is trying to limit us to, and we can get along good. The reason I'm saying this to you is that I'm in your watchlist, so I'm assuming you're one of the views and/or downloads. So how about that feedback? If you don't actually read what i write, you can ignore this comment.
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