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Literature
GO.
Go over, and say hello.
Say how are you,
What’s been happening,
Why can't you love me,
How is work going?
Go into the kitchen.
Say do you want some tea,
What's for dinner,
What do I need to do
To earn your attention,
Can I help with anything?
Go to the kettle
-it's boiled, just now-
pour the water.
Get the angle wrong, steam burn.
Say it's fine, honestly, it was my fault.
Just run me some water,
Be a dear,
Say you need me and mean it.
See?
Barely a mark.
Go into the living room.
Say can I please have a coaster,
Will you just hold me,
Just for a moment,
Just for a breath,
Just until I feel my heart beat again?
Say I'm sorry.
Say I don't know what came over me.
Say would you like a biscuit.
I might have one myself.
Go to the door.
Say goodbye,
Thanks for having me,
Let's do this again,
Tell me to stay.
Go home.
Be alone.
Make tea.
Don't think about work tomorrow.
Wish you had never gone over.
Hope the weather is nice this weekend,
Maybe a walk would be nice.
Take a sip of tea.
Grim
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Literature
Sand on the Shore
I never let myself listen to bad music.
I know I'll end up buying every album.
I never let myself eat dessert, either
I never let the heady scent of sugar and sweetness
And the sudden thickness in my throat
Sway me.
Because I know that once I've started, I'll never stop.
I never let myself take even one smooth drag from a cigarette
Even when I find myself so tempted
I almost forget how to breathe air
Which isn't patterned with that fine smoke.
I hold out
I keep my fascination at bay
Because if I don't
I know I'll end up a pack-a-day kind of girl.
I never let myself have even a taste of the high that drugs can bring,
Because I can already see my crumpled figure
Collapsed on the street
The freckles of my indiscretions littered upon my withered arms
Like sand upon the shore.
Maybe that's why I never let myself have you.
Because I know that one day,
You'll see me for what I am
In all my shame and all my cowardice,
And you will leave.
And I will have loved you
Like I love the intrigue of mo
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:iconhobotang:Hobotang 4 6
Literature
Playing God
It’s an odd experience to wake up in the morning and be surprised about it, but nowadays, that’s how everyone does it. Sitting around the breakfast table is no longer a disconnected experience: there’s no more rushing to finish your cereal, or grabbing a bit of toast smeared with jam and ducking off to work. Everyone sits and eats together, talking about their plans for the day, and the news, and what was on TV the night before.
Before leaving for school/work/wherever, there are choruses of “I love you”s and “be careful”s and “I’ll see you tonight”s, all spoken with more hope than conviction, and with more feeling than most are used to at 8 o’clock on a Tuesday morning.
So why is this happening? Ask anyone on the street, and they’ll just shake their heads and stride past you hurriedly. Some might frown and shrug, maybe throw in a ‘what do you mean?’, but the response is, in essence, unvaried. That doesn
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:iconhobotang:Hobotang 1 7
Literature
Daddy Issues
I once knew a little girl. She had brown hair and pale blue eyes and she was taller than most of her friends. She played outside a lot, and would often run to the neighbour's house and ask them to play with her. Her mother loved her. She always used to say to this little girl, "It's just you and I the only logic in a house of gorillas". This little girl wasn't entirely sure what logic was, but she giggled when her father and brothers were called 'gorillas'.
She read to fill time between play dates with friends, and swam to her little heart's content. Her father was never really there, and when he was, he liked to be alone. That was okay with this little girl, because she knew her daddy loved her. She was his only daughter: how could he not?
This girl is older now. She's not so tall anymore, but her shoulders are still slumped from all the time she spent trying to hide her height. She doesn't spend so much time outside anymore. She still loves swimming, but only when nobody else is ar
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:iconhobotang:Hobotang 11 29
Literature
Cause and Effect
I'll never believe your compliments.
You would understand if you'd been hurt as much as I have.
If you'd been put down as many times as I.
A girl like me won't accept what you tell me.
You can love me as much as you love life itself
But you can't tell me
Because I won't believe you.
It used to be that I was the only one I trusted.
I used to believe that honesty only came from within.
That when all else failed,
And when everyone else failed me,
I could count on myself.
I could make myself whole again.
I used to believe in myself.
I've never been religious.
Always believed that the only faith you need
Is faith in yourself.
Well, I've lost my faith.
I don't trust myself.
I don't believe in myself.
I don't want to be myself anymore.
Because despite all the insults that have been thrown my way,
Despite all the upset and hurt and pain I've endured,
Despite all the times the ones I've loved have let me down
The worst hurt of all is the hurt I inflict.
I've hurt myself.
I've hurt my family
And
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Mature content
Visitations and Ministrations :iconhobotang:Hobotang 18 53
Project Mayhem by Hobotang Project Mayhem :iconhobotang:Hobotang 11 14
Literature
Guided Meditation
"Breathe in."
"And breathe out."
Little whooshes of air escaped all around the room. Dominic sighed his breath out, keeping his eyes closed and his mind clear. He was entirely at ease: only when he was being told what to do could he truly relax. Free will lead him to thought, which lead him to worry. A true soldier, with no war to fight. A true follower, with nobody to follow.
"Now, you're going to step through the green door. Feel yourself reach out, feel the handle turn under your touch, and breathe."
The handle was made of cool iron, and it left rust on Dominic's hand as he took it away. His soft step echoed around the white walls of his mind.
"As you step inside, take a look around. It's your childhood bedroom, the room in which you grew up."
Instantly, a bookshelf materialised in front of Dominic's tightly closed eyes. His toys were junked in a blue plastic tub, with a few strewn on his tiny, unmade bed. The room was awash with a pale green light coming from behind green gauzy cur
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:iconhobotang:Hobotang 8 8
Literature
One Time, Never More.
Never have I felt someone's heart so close to my own.
Someone's pulse beat alongside mine,
Someone's smile tug at my heart and leave me smiling myself.
Never before have I let someone into my head so freely.
Let them wander in my daydreams,
Let them brush their fingers over the flowers in my mind,
Let them sway to the music of my memories.
Never have I found such beauty hidden behind such simplicity.
Such wisdom crouching behind the innocence of youth.
Such shimmering perfection waiting behind the agony of regret.
You're the first I've ever met who has put me at ease.
Who has made my words fumble over each other,
Yet cleared the chaos of my thoughts.
Who has occupied so many dreams,
Yet given me so many beautiful sleepless nights.
Who has made my hands shake,
Yet made my heart so calm.
Never again will I find someone who I can allow to make home in my heart.
Someone who will keep the place clean.
Someone who will never walk dirt into the carpet.
Someone who will never answer the door t
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:iconhobotang:Hobotang 22 11
In Case You Ever Forget... by Hobotang In Case You Ever Forget... :iconhobotang:Hobotang 2 4
Literature
Fragile, Handle With Care
Hospitals aren't really my scene. I think it's the fact that everything's so sterile. See, I'm a bit of a slob at home, so I feel like doctors' sensitive noses are going to pick up that scent of shabbiness that hangs over everything I do. But with enough persuasion (mixed with a smattering of guilt), I found myself visiting a work acquaintance in hospital. I suppose I should be thankful that I ended up going, because the girl I met at that hospital was worth all the arguments that led up to that moment.
Shuffling self-consciously down a pristine white corridor, I was glancing at random door numbers to make sure I was on the right track. Most of the doors were closed, but one at the end of the corridor was wide open. I could see a light on in the room, and I suppose I thought that the person inside might not have been able to get out of bed to close the door. So I, being the Good Samaritan that I am, wandered over and reached for the handle, trying my best to keep my eyes respectfully a
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:iconhobotang:Hobotang 9 13
Literature
Stopping All Stations - Ch. 24
Harry swept his fringe from his face, sighing in frustration. He'd been lying in bed for almost 2 hours trying to clear his thoughts and let sleep take over, but his mind had other ideas. Images of Cash kept swarming his brain, making sleep impossible. Thoughts of her ebony hair, her gorgeous smile, those dazzling eyes, and especially of the scent of vanilla that always hung around when she was near.
He grunted angrily and sat up, hugging the covers tightly over his legs – a soft breeze was wafting through the window, but it was cold as an Arctic wind to Harry. He thought about getting up and going for a walk, but it was too cold for that. Besides, if he went rummaging through his trunk to get out his Invisibility Cloak, he'd more than likely wake somebody up. So he just sat in his bed, eyes wide and unfocused, mind clouded with thoughts of Cash.
After a few hours of nothing, Harry got extremely bored with his current situation. Deciding that he didn't give a damn anymore about wa
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Mature content
Stopping All Stations - Ch. 23 :iconhobotang:Hobotang 1 0
Literature
Falling
You act like a hero, but you won't take the fall.
For the things that you've done, won't admit it at all.
The hero's not always blonde, handsome and tall.
In your case, a hero's pathetic and small.
A saviour is what you're convinced that you are.
You think you're a big shot, a bright shining star.
I can see through your bullshit, you'll never go far.
I'll show this whole world just how feeble you are.
If what you've achieved is not worth the cost,
Would you stop to think about what you have lost?

You pretend to be honest, but you're the worst of your kind,
You pretend you're a saint, but you're out of your mind.
You know I believe that you're falling behind.
If you can't see my reasons, you've got to be blind.
When you sleep in your bed, do you dream of delight?
Are your dreams filled with joy, and not twisted with spite?
Do you say to yourself it'll all be alright?
Do you hold onto lies like a beacon of light?
If what you've achieved is not worth the cost,
Would you stop to
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:iconhobotang:Hobotang 2 21
Mature content
Stopping All Stations - Ch. 22 :iconhobotang:Hobotang 0 2
Mature content
Stopping All Stations - Ch. 21 :iconhobotang:Hobotang 0 6

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Activity


I'm not usually one of those people who likes to put their thoughts or feelings out there on the internet. If I do, it's either because I'm being a fangirl and trying to be funny, or because it's all gotten too much and even an anonymous, immeasurable audience is better than keeping it in.

In this case, it's the latter.

As usual, I'm finding it difficult to organise my thoughts. I guess it's easiest to just try and start from the beginning, but I don't even really know where the beginning is. I guess my biggest concern right now is school. I'm hopeless at motivating myself to study, even for my favourite subjects. I get marks back for tests and think to myself, 'I know I can do better', but I just never do, because I never push myself any harder. I get excited about subjects whilst I'm at school, and I make all these plans for the work I'm going to do when I get home, and then when I'm sitting at my desk, all my drive just ... goes. I slump in my chair and try to crank out a few bits of whatever homework I have, but inevitably I go to bed feeling melancholy, like I've let myself down. I'm having some serious problems with my Extension 2 English major work, because I don't believe in my own abilities, and I manage to convince myself that the minimal amount of work I put into my research for it is somehow adequate. I know it's not - not even close - but that doesn't seem to matter to me. All I seem to care about is spending every spare minute of my time doing the most meaningless things and getting absolutely nowhere.

I'm also worried about what's going to happen when I finish school. I have no idea how I'm going to get the ATAR I need to do psychology, and I don't even know if I want to do psychology anymore. I've recently given more serious thought to joining the police force, but all I can think is that I don't even come close to having the level of motivation or physical fitness to achieving that. I'm horrible with confrontation, I sweat like a motherfucker even when I'm naked under a fan, and I already look enough like a guy without needing to dress in a bulky uniform with my hair pulled back. On the one hand, I'm excited to finish school, get a proper job, go to uni if that ends up happening, and just leave. I'm tired of living by everyone else's terms, I hate having to tell everyone where I'm going all the time, and I hate that the only time I truly have to myself is when everyone else happens to be out. I want to live in my own house, have my own stuff, and I want to be able to leave the dishes in the sink to be done in the morning. I want to sleep in during my holidays until stupid hours of the day without banging and crashing and yelling coming through the walls. I want to be able to walk around my own house without pants on, without a bra on, and without having to worry that someone has a friend over who won't appreciate my lack of dress code in my own house.

Most of all, I think I'm worried about how I'm even going to cope with being an adult in the real world. I hate looking at myself in the mirror. I really, truly do. I hate my hair, and my eyebrows, and the way my eyelashes clump together even without mascara. I hate that makeup only makes me look worse, and I hate the stupid neck fat I've never been able to kick, and I hate how all the weight I put on goes to my hips, and I hate that my upper arms are in a perpetual state of tonelessness, and I hate, more than anything, the fact that I don't think I'll ever be comfortable enough in my own body to truly enjoy having sex with someone. Even just being with someone, just laying next to them, or sitting on someone's lap or whatever it is. When I lay down even with my best friends, I'm always sucking in my gut and arranging myself into this ramrod-straight position to avoid getting too hot or lying on them too much and smothering them. I hate my big hands, and how much I sweat, and how my mouth is just that little bit too small. Most of all, I hate that I can't love any of it. I try. I tell myself that my hips are perfect for holding, and that my skin is nice and clear, and that the veins in my hands are fascinating, but it just doesn't work. I just can't convince myself that anything about myself is appealing, attractive, hell, even bearable

I'm sick of walking around the shops and feeling as though everyone is looking at me. I'm sick of having this constant flutter in my stomach when there's even the slightest possibility of social interaction, and I'm especially sick of that little voice in my head that says 'Maybe you actually do have social anxiety' because what if I do? Who gives a shit? It's not like it's a good thing, to be that way, and it won't help anything on the off chance that I do, somewhere down the road, get diagnosed with it. Giving it a name doesn't make it go away, it's just one more chance for me to make excuses for myself. Every night, before I go to sleep, I fantasise about a different version of me. She's prettier than me, and she's so much more confident, and her hair always manages to sit nicely, and she actually gets male attention, and she's suave and comfortable and fun to be around. I'm none of those things. I can't even think about talking to guys without getting the shakes, and most of the time, even talking to girls is nerve-wracking enough. I tie my hair back all the time because it just doesn't look good out, and I'm always too sarcastic to be fun, and I'm not playful at all. I can hold a conversation, but I'm not a physical person at all, and everyone I know is that kind of playful person who likes to push and shove and joke around and I'm just not. I have no idea how to be close to people, I only hug those I love with all my heart, or people who just happen to be there when I'm in a rare mood. Even one of my best friends, whom I've known and loved for nearly 5 years - I could count on one hand the number of times we've hugged. It's crazy, how bad I am at being a social person, and I hate every second of it.

I think that's about it. I've written an essay for you, surely that's enough. Basically, my point is that I'm a 13-year-old child with no reason to feel sad or put-upon, and yet I make myself feel that way regardless. I'm not putting this up so people will feel sorry for me - I'd prefer it if nobody read it, really. I just need to put it somewhere. I needed to write this down, and this was one of those things where writing it just wasn't enough. I'm putting it out there as some kind of catharsis, I think. I really can't tell you, and I think I'm about to have some kind of panic attack, but it's out there. It's done. 

deviantID

Hobotang
Anna
Australia
I like the think of myself as a writer, but the truth is, I write very rarely and post even less. I like Scotland, and I like Harry Potter, and I like to pretend I'm good at describing myself in a bio, but the truth is I'm just woeful. I hate the way I look in pictures, so I usually don't post them, and if you tag me in a photo on Facebook without asking me first, I will most likely remember it forever and never forgive you even a little bit. I lie a lot. I mean, a LOT.
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Comments


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:iconjoanna-vu:
Joanna-Vu Featured By Owner Jun 14, 2013
Thank you very much for the fav and for watching me! :heart:
Reply
:iconastoko:
AStoKo Featured By Owner Apr 20, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
:hug:
Many thanks for adding my drawing to your faves.



For you…:alphaosiris:
Reply
:icontonekid:
TONEKID Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2013
Thank you for the favorite !!
Reply
:iconhobotang:
Hobotang Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2013
No problem, the picture looks amazing! It's so life-like.
Reply
:iconcock-zero:
cock-zero Featured By Owner Dec 13, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
:tighthug: Thanks so much for the watch!
Reply
:iconhobotang:
Hobotang Featured By Owner Dec 13, 2012
Not a problem, you're an absolutely amazing writer
Reply
:iconcock-zero:
cock-zero Featured By Owner Dec 14, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
:iconblushplz: aww shucks
Reply
:iconprofessional-fcukwit:
Professional-Fcukwit Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2012
Thanks for the :+fav:
Reply
:iconhobotang:
Hobotang Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2012
No problem, baby. I hope everything's okay
Reply
:iconprofessional-fcukwit:
Professional-Fcukwit Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2012
Yeah... this was from the other night.
Reply
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