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Luck - Prologue by Kykel Luck - Prologue :iconkykel:Kykel 0 0
Literature
The Story of my Life
The story of my life. Half a glass of wine before me and I can't decide between it and the cranapple juice. Maybe he'd get it, and maybe he wouldn't. I care not anymore. He's gone and I'm still here. That's what matters right? But deep down, I know that's a lie. Because truthfully, I find it easier to lie to myself than except the truth.
"I don't remember the date anymore. Once upon a time I knew it I'm sure but time blurs all things does it not? So, here I am. Writing yet another pointless story beneath an empty glass of white zinfandel wine with an empty glass of optimism to top it off. What is sorrow without a drunkard to accompany it right? I wasn't always like this you know? I was once happy. No, definitely not during school but rather when I was in love with someone who didn't care or with a parent who didn't exist to them self, much less me at that point in time. No, back then it was my siblings that mattered most, and when it wasn't them it was my friends. All I have now of Ron
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 0 0
Literature
Rest Easy
I wish for days of epic romances she told me. For days when the world makes sense again. When love is real and pure and honest and people don't remember that divorce once existed, much less tore most families apart. That's what she told me as I held her hand. Her smile was gentle and peaceful. My hands were shaking and she looked at me and told me to rest easy. Rest easy. Of all things for her to say.
"I was sixteen when it happened. She came into my room and told me dad was leaving. I looked her in the eyes with all the cold malice I could muster from my heart and I told her I knew. I had always known it was inevitable. He was having an affair with the cute secretary with the 'busty babe' tits. Mom tried to play innocent but I think dad knew just as well that she preferred Jim, my brother's best friend's dad. Neither of them seemed to care, seemed to give two shits that they were hurting each other, much less us. Derek was in the next room over. I was sure dad was probably talking to
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 1 4
Literature
Fated Love - Chapter 1 Revamp
I loved her more than life itself... But I could never tell her. Fate demanded that the truth would only hurt her. Fate demanded I die…. And die I knew I would.
                                       Chapter 1
"Hurry up, Jed." Sylvia shouted as she pranced up the steps to the main hall. "I don't want to be late for the ball." She let out a pouty huff before following with a tease. "You're always so slow." Jed stepped from the carriage with a frown and looked up at an impatient Sylvia.
"Yeah? Well, I didn't have to come. I could just as easily get back in the carriage and go home." He smirked mockingly as he taunted back. Yet, the smirk was a façade and the taunt did little to sate the uneasiness in his gut. In truth, he did not want to be here. Jed was not one for all the formalities
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 3 2
Literature
CROATOAN
Chapter 1 – The Lost Colony
Fire erupted in the night. The drought had dried everything out but Esther knew this was not caused by normal causes. It was them again. The dark ones they had come to be called. They came out of nowhere, demons of the night as though conjured from the darkest nightmare. The colonists feared for their lives. Many had already left. Others feared to leave but among them even more now feared to stay. In the past fortnight nearly 2 dozen had disappeared. The search parties hadn't come back. Esther hugged George as she cried. It wouldn't be long now before the rest were gone.
This was supposed to be a new start. It was supposed to be their new home but coming here had been nothing but disaster. The first two colonies had failed and she now wondered if the dark ones had somehow been responsible. White had left nearly a year before. What had happened to keep him from returning? What could have stopped him from returning to his people? A scream outside attracte
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 2 2
Mature content
The Freezing Tuetonic Knight :iconkykel:Kykel 4 14
Literature
The Voice of Lost Naivety
I miss the days,
when the rest of the world wasn't real,
  and I could hear the whisper of the wood,
   and feel the warmth of the stars.
   The security of a hug.
Life was simple,
misunderstood only.
Lived,
but untrusted,
  for we all know the pain,
    of betrayed hope.
When each step,
each breath,
  quakes the very earth...
   because she's untouched,
    before your whisper is chosen.
...
Growth is tantalizing,
when you see it on others,
  from your safe little nest.
You taste only what you want,
take it for granted,
  and cherish that you did.
In the end,
it's not the days,
that speed up,
  but rather you,
who slows down,
   unable to keep an equal pace.
    Blow a kiss...
     in meaning,
      for time will never,
come back.
She's a vixen...
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 2 2
Literature
Fated Love Chapter 17
Follow the scent to the Cask of the Fallen Prophet King.
                                    Chapter 17
"A shower." Leon announced grinning from ear to ear. Seth froze. Had he been joking? A shower? He'd had to have misheard him. "And a change in wardrobe will be in order too. I cannot have one of my subordinates walking around with rags and a coat of dirt so thick one cannot see their skin." Seth looked up. There was definably a hint of mocking humor to his voice but Seth knew he wasn't kidding. King Leon was dead serious. "Theobold." He said gesturing to one of the guards. "You are to escort Mr. Seth to Fenebrer. I want him bound until his training is complete." Seth felt panic rise in his chest.
"Umm… Really, there's no need for that now is there?" He asked trying to sound calmer than he was. "I'm not
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 2 19
Literature
Mistake
There was a time when bliss was determined by a bus ride home,
the theme of my life played through earphones.
Or under the universe,
her sparkling freckles captivating me from the back of my mom's toolbox.
Even from 3 am in the morning,
swinging the world away at the park.
There was a time a time when happiness was determined by my choice,
not the hated word "if".
That was when I was free,
when I was me.
Before rules and regulations,
and having to ask for permission
Before growing up.
But I guess,
invevitability gets us all.
There are two roads,
always have been.
One is right and one is left,
both are dark and scary.
Both are unknown.
And I wish,
I could just keep going straight.
I am trapped.
I am conformed.
I am miserable.
And,
I am a slave.
Before, I was free.
Now, life is a cage.
And the harsh reality,
I went willingly.
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 1 20
Literature
I don't know
What can I write here now? Am I aloud to say how I truly feel about something? Where is the line drawn? I don't know.
I don't know where I am.
I don't know what I am.
I don't know why I am.
I don't know how I am.
I don't know where I want to be.
I don't know what I want to be.
I don't know what I want to do.
I don't know why I'm still here.
I don't what I'm aloud to do,
or say.
I don't know where I'm aloud to go,
or who I'm aloud to talk to,
or what I'm aloud to talk to them about.
I don't know why I feel so alone and disconnected,
or why I miss my pathetic excuse for a home,
or why I miss the very few good friends I have,
or the pathetic excuse for friends I have that don't bother to even try to contact me anymore.
I don't know why I care,
or why I want to fit in somewhere,
or why I forsake who I am to try to belong somewhere,
anywhere.
I don't know why I do the things I do,
or why I bother to talk to the people I know,
or even why I try to make friends with people.
I don't even know
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 1 3
Literature
The Love of the Siren
A cool whisper nipped at Aaron's ears. He knew its sweet taste. The song of a siren was not so easily forgotten. He closed his eyes and let the beautiful melody of the song run through his soul. Had it really been so long? A thump came from his chest, louder than before. Then another, and another. He felt his heart grow warmer, then his chest, the gold light from the thumping source within. Such a beautiful thing could not be foreign. True love came from within but from another. Another whisper nipped at him, closer than before. He breathed in slowly, basking in the serenity of the warmth. There was no truer peace. But there would be a price to pay. He knew this better than any other. The most beautiful things in life were only temporary. They were agony.
A cool hand brushed his cheek. It was soft and gentle and its touch made him hold his breath. She cooed to him softly. He felt his heart thump faster at her touch. "Breathe my love." She whispered. Her voice was more beautiful than he
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 4 22
Literature
A Little Something Invisible
Blushing symphonies,
sweet whispers,
fluttering whisps,
and everlasting bliss.
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 2 5
Literature
Lesson
"I learned a lesson a long time ago. A lesson of how you were better than me. It's a lesson that can be neither explained nor thought. Only understood. It's about life. About pain and love. Not the love of another but the love of yourself.  It is always present but always invisible, only noticeable by the condemned from society and its nugatory views of how you're supposed to live. Truth? I once thought it the best word to describe what I wanted in life. But when you see the underdog and you see the top you learn a little something. You learn that you will choose the underdog. Why? Truth. Confused? Good. I have just shown you that you haven't learned that lesson.
Life is simple but life is hard, and easy, and fun, but vastly overrated in itself. It is indefinable, except to the simple minded, too close minded to know left from right. I'm not talking direction. I'm talking understanding. It's a funny thing as nobody I've ever met has shown me they even understand what that wor
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 1 11
Literature
Mugger's Mercy
A lonely walk of a sunny day,
Reveals a lovely flower lost her way.
She whispers in the wind,
"Oh please mi lord, help me."
But yellow flowers have little appeal to me,
So I leave the flower,
Her fate to be,
The path's past and history.
A lonely walk of a golden afternoon,
Reveals a fierce cat tied to a tree,
She cries out,
"Oh please good  sir, help me."
But fierce cats scare me,
So I leave the cat,
Her fate to be,
The tree's past and history.
A lonely walk of a starlit evening,
Reveals a hobo starving and thirsty,
She pleads to me,
"Oh please, kind mister, spare me a few pennies."
But hobos disgust me,
So I leave her,
Her fate to be,
The world's past and history.
A lonely walk of a foggy morning of a year past,
Reveals a mugger who pulls me into the alley,
He demands of me,
"Give me sir, all your money."
But then I see the yellow flower and call for help,
But she leaves me,
My fate to be,
At a mugger's mercy.
He demands again,
"Give me sir, all your money."
And then I see t
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 3 24
Literature
Life's a game
Life's game,
Meant to claim and blame,
Belate and procreate.
Life's a test,
Meant to curse and or be the best,
To aim high.
Truth, love and power,
Pick your poison.
Change is imminent,
And immutable,
A universal truth.
2 plus 2 equals fish.
Believe it!
Deliver it,
To that dark place at the back of your mind,
Where reason is blind,
To the attitude of time.
Say cheese every day.
History remembers only the deranged.
Books live the insane,
And life is just a game.
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 0 9
Literature
Fated Love - Chapter 16
He falls for the broken heart.
Chapter 16
Seth was anything but compliant. He kicked and thrashed and cursed all the way to the palace. They thought they were big stuff but had there only been three of them he would have escaped by now. Even as the three guards had lunged on him and surprised him he had already formulated his escape. At least, until that fourth guard had gotten his legs. Still, captured or not, he wouldn't go willingly. Perhaps the guard in the front holding his legs would slip his grip or trip and fall. All it would take is one screw up and he was gone. He'd even have all four of their coin purses along the way. But the guard hadn't screwed up, just as he'd figured the probably wouldn't. He wasn't an idiot after all. The Imperial Guards were the elite. They were the best and they didn't lose their prey once they had it. Yet, he had still thrashed. He was captured but he would make sure they had trouble keeping him that way. He couldn't help but laugh as they walked hi
:iconKykel:Kykel
:iconkykel:Kykel 2 3

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You have a few grammar/sentence structure mistakes that need to be adjusted but most have been covered in a previous comment. "own; ins...

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Would you read it?

Journal Entry: Sat Jan 4, 2014, 5:54 PM
Facebook l Gallery l dA Portfolio l Watch Me l Note Me

If I wrote regularly again. Would you read it?

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Kykel
The Fiction of Reality
Artist
United States
There is nothing normal about me. My entire life I've searched for something that I know not what it is. Call it purpose. Call it religion. God. Peace. It makes no difference to me. The fact is that I've never been ok. There has and always will be a little piece of me that's broken inside. But that isn't even the point. I like that, want it even. Being ok hurts worse than being broken because I can at least understand pain. It drives and inspires me. It gives birth to ideas and concepts of reality that nothing else ever could. My life needs something to drive me. I do not serve myself well in happiness.

I learned long ago that I'm a dreamer but when you get what you want, you lose sight of what it meant. You have to keep reaching for something unattainable to get somewhere in life. Chase the clouds, the stars even. They'll only keep you on their tail. You'll never catch them. I hate being happy. Happiness breeds content acceptance. I fear it. It is instability to me. Change is immutable. Change is everything. Change is life. That which sits still does so because it is dead. I want to always want more, to never be happy with myself.

I do not know if I believe in purpose anymore. But I think that is the very point of it all. The idea that we are utterly alone, a fluke... It's lonely and it's scary. It is a secret that would end the world. But there is so much out there that makes me truly wonder. I have for so long found doubt in myself. But that is who I am. I find inspiration and I find drive in my doubts. It is those fears that fuel me. THEY are what give me my strength. Ask yourself, if you learned that there is nothing else out there, that we truly are alone what would you do? What is the purpose of it all? You live for no other reason than to live.

There are sides of me that nobody understands. And there are sides that only a few people do. I do not open up to most because I do not want to be understood. It is my way of being alone. It is all I have sacred to me. The only thing that makes me who I am, unique. I am different from everyone because of this and this alone.

I think everyone has a set of critical beliefs deep down that they don't share lightly. Even among those closest to us do we often feel strangers before these concepts. They are part of us. They define us and make each and every one of us unique. They are all we have sacred to ourselves. I do not know if I believe in peace. I do not know if I even believe in purpose anymore. The frailty of the base that holds all I once and all I do believe in does not surprise me. I believe in life and I believe in change. Change is immutable. Change is everything. Change is life. But change is also loss. It is sacrifice. It is the only universal truth I believe in. In the end, we know nothing.

Sometimes, intelligence is a burden.
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Add a Comment:
 
:iconhothead14:
hothead14 Featured By Owner Jun 5, 2016
hey man, how and where have you been? still writing? 
Reply
:iconkykel:
Kykel Featured By Owner Oct 17, 2016
Believe it or not, yes. But, life has become busy these days. I find that nostalgia seems to be the only thing left that brings me back to this wonderful little hidden gem.
Reply
:iconhothead14:
hothead14 Featured By Owner Nov 2, 2016
Dude, preaching to the choir. my writing has changed... i have new ideas for what i want to do. where i want my stories to go. but life is a bitch and setting up a lot of roadblocks on my own story of life. it sucks. :/
Reply
:iconwhiteplumfragrance:
WhitePlumFragrance Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks again for the fav and your nice comment! :D
Reply
:iconkykel:
Kykel Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2013
You are welcome. Thank you for sharing your beauty with us. The beauty in your mind and your soul. Your words are nothing but gateways. ;)
Reply
:iconwhiteplumfragrance:
WhitePlumFragrance Featured By Owner Aug 28, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you so much for your kind words. :D :hug:
Reply
:icondaydreamer531:
Daydreamer531 Featured By Owner Mar 25, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
This isn't one of your options for your poll but I like the sound of "The Fated Love Series" :)
Reply
:iconkykel:
Kykel Featured By Owner Apr 6, 2012
Thx for the suggestion. Maybe I'll add that one on.
Reply
:iconphil-sanchez:
Phil-Sanchez Featured By Owner Mar 4, 2012  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Hey! :wave: Thanks for the fave on the Avatar Apocalypse piece; much appreciated! :D
Reply
:iconkykel:
Kykel Featured By Owner Mar 22, 2012
Welcome.
Reply
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