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About Literature / Hobbyist Heather22/Female/People's Republic of China Recent Activity
Deviant for 9 Years
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Literature
five people who mean a lot
a: thanks for teaching me how to laugh—sometimes it is nice to get lost in rolling laughter and hysterical giggles. around you i'm unconscious of worldly things as our jubilance brings me to greater heights and it becomes easier, and also desirable, to live in our moments.
c: your passion can ignite my sometimes dry-stick soul—and you know better than most that i'm not the kind that sits around the bonfire, but with you i'm reminded that there's more to life than the to-do list and i can relegate it to kindling as we roast marshmallows on its remains.
a: you've always had my back, my darling, and it can't be easy. i'm fairly heavy when i fall, but I know we're both a lot stronger than we think. one day, when we've left this town behind, we'll know that we were survivors and that our determination carried us far, far away.
j: if you have a heart that restores faith in my views of humanity, what else could i ask for? only more conversations over sorbet because i want it all and
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Literature
here's what i think.
I was a better person when I wrote.
I was a better person when I wrote about boys who'd never return my feelings on silver platters, and ships long lost, or drowned, at sea. It sounds like a disaster, but I only write well with the ashes of a crumpled, discarded spirit mixed with the still-warm tears of a troubled soul.
Words kept me human, for they are what makes us human, and they distanced me from the animal I could become. All I do now is stalk around the concrete city, pace about my enclosure, and think about how my bitterness and I can never be released in the wilderness again.
Before the city stole my words away, I was living in the harbor locked up in a crumbling lighthouse, hoping that some northeasterly wind would blow him back to me. I still yearn, but the sea-stained melody gets lost in the traffic and it's easier to be whole without it haunting my every second.
But, the truth is, I'm burning for more.
I'm not whole without part of him missing, and if I'm filling up the
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Literature
sindeep syndrome.
and i don't understand you:
scarred hands and broken bones
and the tears like acid, cutting through your facades
the tracks are like tributaries—winding little streams
a drachma for a ride?
but perhaps most of all,
it's your whisping musings, like smoke from a candle
that leave me mystified and frightened:
we're running of time and tallow
(i've always been afraid of the dark)
and the shadows are here.
starless blankets draped over old lies—
we're crashing, we're sliding
the coins knocked from our eyes
what a shame, what a shame,
now i'll never know.
there'll be no time in a hot eternity,
to wonder about anything other than
the next cool drop of water that
comes this way.
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Literature
a reminder that you're mortal...
when i can't think of what to write, i think of you because it cracks my soul open, and the blood breeds words. your name spills out of my arteries and nerves, staining my skin with love, passion, lust—but if nothing else, when the lights show of colors and splatter patterns is over, i'm reminded that i'm still living, breathing, and slowly, dying without you.
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Literature
friday the thirteenth.
but in my mind, i'm just like "what if tonight is the night? what if this is the right time that's been evading us for years?"
but that's just it, i've been saying that every night for, well, years.
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Literature
i hope this suffices.
And so he left in the dry summer wind, taking with him not only my rosewood heart, but my velvet bag of crafted syllables and elusive imagery, too.
[I've never felt so empty]
The bar is closing up and they've been told not to serve me anymore to drink. Alcohol would only ignite her smoldering eyes and render her blind, they say.
[But what is blindness when there's nothing to see?]
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:iconurban-lingo:urban-lingo 2 4
Literature
and we're all just burning.
wildfires burn like
stars in the distance--
like us, they both encompass this inexplicable sadness, like they're both slowly dying.
and that's most likely because
they are.
and that's most likely because
we are.
-
but then we differ, my burning boy.
you'll take down anything that doesn't stand a chance; converting towers into ash without blinking an eye.
your hardened stare is as cold-blooded as any axe.
but your boiling bones set the canopy on flame.
-
and me?
i'm burning out slowly: it'd be too easy to simply go out.
so i suffer slowly on.
and no one knows.
-  
they'll quench your thirst and i'll be gone with morning.
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:iconurban-lingo:urban-lingo 1 10
Literature
you were my fortune cookie come true.
The summer I met you was the summer of my first job. I stuffed fortunes into cookies and while it wasn't much, it put hope on the table and daisies by the windows—they seemed to remind me of your eyes. I used to sit in my garden and read the "you'll meet the person of your dreams" slips, the beginnings of my greatest daydreams with ideas that I couldn't translate into words. I would hold them close to my heart, thinking about our lazy days watching the waves by the beach.
We set off on a long walk through autumn leaves and fortune cookie crumbs, but I forked off halfway just chasing the wind. Cheap prophecies just weren't enough to sustain a budding love and the chill was setting in. You had a long walk to reflect and what did you think? I was a girl who was willing to play the odds and lose you if the numbers didn't fall the way they should. Summer was over and our cycle carried on, but only for a lack of anywhere else to go.
Winter blew its frigid breath on the maple tree by my
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:iconurban-lingo:urban-lingo 4 4
Literature
a burst of color.
trip beautifully.
and if you should ever fall,
bleed watercolour.
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:iconurban-lingo:urban-lingo 1 2
Literature
today i am taller.
twentytwelve will bear
fresher fruit from a rainy
twentyeleven.
now i am taller,
(raised on tears and heartache), to
reach tree-tops, sky high.
:iconurban-lingo:urban-lingo
:iconurban-lingo:urban-lingo 1 5
Literature
six things i wish i'd never done
i. i wish i hadn't wasted 11:11s on you. i could have probably saved children from natural disasters, eradicated poverty in countries whose names i can't spell and stopped the spread of sexually transmitted diseases if i hadn't wasted those minutes between 11:10 and 11:12 wishing that you would finally open your eyes.
ii. on that note, i wish i never read so deep into them. they pulled me under but they were so deceptively clear that i kept swimming. clear eyes sparkle more in the light, but you never know when you'll get to the bottom of everything. you're shallower than i thought and maybe i should have listened to my mother: she said you were up to no good.
iii. i wish my eyes weren't so deep-set now. this year had been a rainy one, a perpetual monsoon of saltwater and the thick sorrow that coats all surfaces and never really drains away. mother nature had to raise the flood barriers and i can't see myself anymore.
iv. i wish i'd said something. i read so
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:iconurban-lingo:urban-lingo 2 4
Literature
blown glass shatters pretty
to see my image
reflected in his eyes—stars
in pools of water...
he makes me ever
so exquisite, like blown-glass
perched on the brink of
my destruction. for
that lovely sensation seemed
so lost without him.
:iconurban-lingo:urban-lingo
:iconurban-lingo:urban-lingo 2 2
Literature
december: a second trial
1/12/11
It was the strangest sensation—
Falling.
But the world stopped
Spinning after I hit the
Ground.
2/12/11
old flames burn just as brightly,
supernovas live lightyears after death
it would be unreasonable,
for me to get fully over you.
wouldn't it?
3/12/11
we'll snort lines of poetry, babe
and get high on the intricacies of the words we wished we could have said.
4/12/11
and maybe i just don't want to be rescued
5/12/11
just let the cards
fall.
a huff and a puff was all it'd take anyway.
6/12/11
it was a quarter after midnight when he pulled up by the curb.
-- no words. let's fly.
i need a break from reality tonight and you're better than my dreams.
[/the perfect night happened here]
7/12/11
I was an afterthought- the kind that gets thrown into a mixture like 'hey why not, it won't make a difference' because I never really did and the walls discriminated beautifully and hid the rough plaster with which I was soldered on. You sa
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:iconurban-lingo:urban-lingo 7 32
Literature
the words aren't coming...
She's sitting in her starsky room with the lights off—maybe it'd be different like that and the words will spin like fire out the corners of the universe. It's probably what the sun really is, she claims, a cluster of dragon-breath words that had nowhere to go, the running list of inspiration running out of fuel. She wants to illuminate the world tonight.
Oh what a beautiful sentence, it has to be due to the lights off.
There is a light, however, and it comes from a three-wick candle in the corner of her room burning merrily like a dance. It does nothing for the words that aren't flowing, merely adding to the atmosphere a beautiful silky scent of juicy tangerines, apple cider and golden nectar. It also helps her write, supposedly.
But she's just sniffing blind-hungry at the air, desperate for words.
Perhaps music would help, she thinks, and turns on a playlist of melancholy music crafted solely for the occasion and closes her eyes, feeling it run through her entire
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Literature
october: an experiment.
1/10/11
What do leaves feel when they fall?
2/10/11
She was a dweller of fire escapes and smoky rooms:
Easily losing herself in rusty bars and coffee stained fabric,
Hardly longing for flight and clinging on to what she knew,
A juxtaposed little girl, she was.
3/10/11
And I just fear, good sir, that you were the only thing I'd ever done right.
4/10/11
That boy was my anchor, but he left me at sea.
5/10/11
I turn to every memory and say:
"That happened. But it doesn't anymore."
Realization became synonymous with sad.
6/10/11
We're dredged with seaweed from head to toe, melting into the sea itself. We're slowly giving up our entities and it's getting hard to know whose really drowning in the other's ocean eyes.
7/10/11
I want a boy to write poetry for me, the flowy kind please, I would tell him as if I was ordering something at the café where he finally finished his master piece.
8/10/11
tonight is a night of listening to sad
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Literature
ahchoo.
We're impossible. Truly.
Like scientifically proven, sneezing with eyes wide open impossible.
                     [sneeze/ eyes close]
But when my eyes close, I see us dancing across my tightly drawn lids.
                                                   And I start to believe. Truly.
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urban-lingo
Heather
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
People's Republic of China
It's been my first time on dA in... maybe a year and I was very undeservingly welcomed back by a daily deviation on one of my pieces, here's what i think.  thank you so very much, beccalicious, for featuring it, and thank you to everyone who has liked it and commented. I never thought that this would happen to me, and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. :heart:

To be honest, I've been floored by all the love -- i'll respond after I post this -- and definitely don't think I deserve it because I haven't really contributed like that to the community in such a long time. 

However, I still can't promise to be dActive. 
I left deviantART unofficially maybe a year+ ago as I was really busy with my last two years of high school. Those years have definitely paid off as I'm headed to the university of my dreams in September. I told myself I'd get back to deviantART during this summer, but the truth is: I haven't written in months <unless you want to see my extended essay entitled: What is the purpose of flying creatures in Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 and Charlotte Brontė's Jane Eyre? which you really don't.>

Writer's block is terrible, but I'm trying to deal with it. One of my coping mechanisms was editing my novel, and the more I read it, the more I want to see it published-- so a lot of my time will be spent on that... and maybe I'll try to post some here? I don't really know what I'm doing with the novel, but I'm determined to figure it out. 

What I do know is that if I'm going to successfully get back to writing, there's no place I can think to be other than deviantART. 

So the point of this journal was to thank those that are still watching me, thank those who stumble upon my profile, and to ask you to bear with me as I try to return to being a writer, because as you know-- I'm definitely a better person when I write. 

  • Listening to: time after time
  • Reading: the great gatsby
  • Watching: new girl (cringe)
  • Drinking: H2O

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:iconnamco-nintendofan-88:
Namco-NintendoFan-88 Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2016  Student Traditional Artist
HAPPY 21st BIRTHDAY, Heather Budimulia, a.k.a. "urban-lingo," dear photographer 'n literaturist gal! :hug:
Singing Singing Singing Singing Dance! Dance! Boogie! Boogie! Party Airborne

Good luck, and I hope you'll have a great birthday today!
Also wishing you keep up the good work on all awesome photography 'n literature writings; I love 'em! ;) (Wink) Heart
Thumbs Up Pringles Have your cake and eat it too Yummy pie!

Comments by:
Nelson C. [my real name],
"N.N.F.88"
9:00 P.M.
Los Angeles, CA ;) (Wink)

Since I wouldn't have been able to do some birthday muro drawings, I got you three extra drawing copies, so...
SURPRISE;
Believe it or not, three birthday muro drawing copies I made, of birthday feet, chibi Haruhi Suzumiya, and Mikuru Asahina wishing you one, so, wishes 'n' luck!
Click on them:
fc00.deviantart.net/fs71/z/201…
orig07.deviantart.net/00d4/f/2…
fc02.deviantart.net/fs70/z/201…
Reply
:iconnamco-nintendofan-88:
Namco-NintendoFan-88 Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Student Traditional Artist
HAPPY 20th BIRTHDAY, Heather Budimulia, a.k.a. "urban-lingo," dear friend! :hug:
Since you were born in 1995, you are now becoming more than an adult, 'cause it's your '20th Anniversary' today! :happycry:
:sing: :sing: :sing: :sing: :dance: :dance: :boogie: :boogie: :party: :airborne:

Good luck, and I hope you'll have a great birthday today!
:thumbsup: :pringles: :cake: :pie:

Comments by:
Nelson C. [my real name],
"N.N.F.88"
6:35 P.M.
Los Angeles, CA ;)
Reply
:iconersatz-moon:
ersatz-moon Featured By Owner Aug 20, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
hi! where you going for college?
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(1 Reply)
:iconladylincoln:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner Jun 15, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
You've been Featured. :heart:
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(1 Reply)
:iconcality:
cality Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday! :heart:
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(1 Reply)
:iconshoeborn:
Shoeborn Featured By Owner Mar 24, 2013  Student General Artist
I love your writing- straight from the heart, and truthful. :33
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(1 Reply)
:iconfalloutboymad22:
falloutboymad22 Featured By Owner Jun 1, 2012
thanks for the faves (:
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:iconmasterofpointillism:
MasterOfPointillism Featured By Owner Mar 28, 2012
Thanks for Faving [link] !
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:icondizzyatdizumnl:
Dizzyatdizumnl Featured By Owner Feb 2, 2012
:iconslipperyhugplz:
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:icondizzyatdizumnl:
Dizzyatdizumnl Featured By Owner Jan 1, 2012
And another, sorry :) [link]
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