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About Deviant Artist Lloyd IkariMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 11 Years
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Literature
A Letter I Promised I wouldn't Send
It's hard for me to make you understand exactly what it is I'm trying to say. A mix of emotions, reason, and past experiences, with a dash of extra special examinations of the soul. But I feel that I need to write this to you anyway, with the special mention of the fact that I seriously doubt I'm going to have you read this anyway.
I think the best way to explain is a simple sentence; that being somewhere along the lines of I don't love you. Or, maybe that's not quite the case. A better way to say it would probably be this: I can't get close to you. It's been what, eight, ten months? A large chunk of change that, while we haven't necessarily been together for the entire time, been close at least. But, despite this, I can't bring myself to say those three words, not because they are not true, or not true yet, but because I can't bring myself to perform the actions that describe myself when I am in love.
To explain that, I have to go to someone you may or may not be amused with. M
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Literature
Less Traveled, Less Ignored
I was standing at the crossroads, before me the King's Road or the Back Way, a grassy road that split into a million different paths going to a million different places. The sign was short and old, the words long gone, but I knew the way. I had been down the so called "Back Way" (it's real name had faded long before the sign) and been to almost every exit. It was a dangerous place, the forest that surrounded the road being the biggest haven for brigands and highwaymen in the known Kingdom. Amusing, since it was so close to the Capital City, though perhaps that wasn't so strange after all. Many with coin traveled this way, and some favored time over safety.
The King's Road was a stark difference to the Back Way. Pounded dirt from the thousands of people who traveled the kingdom every day, there was scarcely time for tracks to sit on the dust before it was gone in the wind. The forest had been harvested twenty yards in either direction of the road, to give clear visibility of anyone comi
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Literature
Less Traveled, Less Ignored
I was standing at the crossroads, before me the King's Road or the Back Way, a grassy road that split into a million different paths going to a million different places. The sign was short and old, the words long gone, but I knew the way. I had been down the so called "Back Way" (it's real name had faded long before the sign) and been to almost every exit.
I had the choice. I could go the way I had always gone, the way I had built a life on.
But I went the way more traveled.
Because of my damnable curiosity.
I suppose, then, I had gone the way I had built a life on. A traveler was nothing without curiosity. It was just that this time, it led me towards the easily questioned than away. But I wanted to know. I wanted to know everything. Everything about her.
Sweat dripped down my face as I shifted the pack, the leather bags rustling on the sides of my hazelnut horse. If it was hot too, it didn't show it. It was the high noon of summer, the middle days where it seemed the world was an ove
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Literature
Covenant
"I wonder sometimes, why is it that I love you." I stretched out the flag across the table, the round wooden table struggling to hold its shape in front of me. The flag's symbol was less willing, switching from symbol to symbol in front of my eyes, the touches of a dream messing with my eyes. I frowned. While I didn't know what it was I was looking at, I knew what it stood for: the symbol was of her, a woman that stood in the center of my heart. I picked up the table by the handle, shifting it into a pole, then a spear, flag attached at the shaft, wood pressing against my palm tightly. I smiled.
The scene shifted, taking me to a place I had seen before. The bottom of a mountain, a test of which she stood at the top. I just had to make sure that I was truly ready for this. I stepped forward, into the snow.
"Are you sure she cares in return?" The darkness asked, whispers trailing into my ears.
"Of course." I smiled. This was the most easily answered question, a first of a series of soul
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Literature
Justice
The table creaked under my weight, foot pushing me onto the back legs of my chair. I closed my eyes, darkness giving me a few moments of rest, hood pulled over my face. I knew this place; a murmur filled building, a place where I could and be alone, surrounded by people, silent and safe.
The murmurs stopped.
My eyes snapped open, shooting towards the door. He stood there, staring only at me, a force of nature come to find me.
My hands flipped to the hilt of my knife, hiding underneath the fabric of my cloak. I took a moment to gather more about him.
The city paled behind him; the snow looked grey behind the white of his armor. His coat was flipped back, ignoring the weather, pressing forth his purpose in a way only that stance could.
His cloak was white, but his sword shone as his side.
I smiled at the irony.
"What's your pleasure?" The innkeeper asked, prodding at the man who appeared in the doorway.
"I've come to free you." He said with a smile.
"Do you think about me now and then?"
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Literature
Flames to Dust
He moved silently, dashing in and out of the shadows, pulling out of the moonlight and disappearing completely, reappearing moments away. I struggled to catch up, my legs seeming too slow, frustrating me in my quest to keep with him.
He set up near a rock, placing his foot on it as a symbol of power and stance, pulling the bow from his back and nocking it with an arrow, pulling it back across his face. The moonlight struck his pitch black armor, light leather coated in the night, form showing his muscular structure while hiding any kind of identifiable measure. A cowl hid his face completely, mask covering his mouth and nose, revealing only two twinkling blue dots for his eyes. He held the bow still, the wood curved into an unmistakeable catapult, waiting in frustrated silence for its target to appear.
I walked closer, keeping my movement silent, drawing closer to the bow. It's wood was black as it's master's armor, curved perfectly towards him, its feel impeccable. On the front, it cu
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Literature
It just takes time
"You met me at a very strange time in my life"
is one way to say it.
Though to be honest, that sentence [or quote, if you want to be specific] implies that one part of my life was any less awkward than the rest.
This entry, this moment of my life that I'm writing down, involves the ideas of being too enchanted with the opposite sex.
Being too involved in perceived magic, too trusting in the otherworldly features of other people. Or, as it was so eloquently put; "Tell him he idealizes women too much."
Is there such a thing?
Is there no point in treating people with the utmost respect they deserve?
That she deserves?
I go back to thinking about how it came to this point, where I want to fight this life, where I don't want to forget that ideal of honesty and respect.
Is it because I want to be different?
Or because I want it to mean something?
Could it be because the way that I love is old, the way that I feel like it "should be"?
How did it get there?
Will it matter, in the end?
I think
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Literature
Dreams
Looking back is a great way to move forward.
I flipped through my old favorites, looking at my past self and what he wanted for the world.
It's really amazing how some things change and some things stay exactly the same.
I still remember exactly what he wanted.
A white dress, billowing on a frozen lake, a moment in time that would mean no going back.
A house on the grass, surrounded by nothing but a single tree on the top of a hill.
The smile of a lady, as she pulls her hair back around her ear.
And as I've gotten more used to the ideas that they will never happen, I also wonder what will happen to them. Where do dreams go, when they no longer have a place? I hope they find some place, a dreamer's head in which they can live.
Because forgetting them means it never happened.
And how can you forget what made you the way you are? What your dreams are, and will be? If you should remember anything, make it dreams. For dreams are the most powerful tools a human has. And so, I write them down
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Literature
Who's to say?
I wonder, a lot, where I'm supposed to go. I wonder, you know, what my fate is. Or, whether I even have one. I think it's something everyone wonders about at some time or another, I just tend to think about it on a more or less daily basis.
Do I have a purpose? Do I have a reason? Do I really have a chance at fulfilling my dream, or am I just being pulled along in a kind of cosmic joke, where I'm the butt of the joke at the end?
Who's to say? I know I personally have no idea. All I know is that I want that feeling, that feeling of her skin against mine, and her eyes searching my heart. It was something I experienced again today, her soul and her smile on a new face, but there all the same. Who's to say who she really is, and who she would turn out to be?
That's what I love and hate about life. Or, my view on life, really. It's always an enigma, always something new around the next corner and around the next bend. Who's to say what it'll be? But that's just it: Who's to say what it'll b
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Literature
Love is a sin.
When I look at her, my Heaven burns away.
It's a horrible feeling, an absolute Tempest of light and shadow and joy and pain.
Because you see, as much as I love her, my time with her is limited.
"`Till Death do us part."
It's the final phrase in a wedding ceremony, something that everyone hears but I don't think anyone really thinks about.
Because you see, I was born to love her. I feel her with every fiber of my being, the Tempest in my heart swirls around for all to see.
But I don't think people realize the finality of that statement.
When she's gone, she's gone.
Forever.
That woman that I love so desperately will absolutely disappear.
Because you see, in the Christian theology, there is no marriage in Heaven.
Forever is a silly notion when it comes to loving another, a stupid reaction of what should have been.
I can never love her perfectly, on this side of Heaven.
And I will never love her at all, on the other.
Not like that.
I think you have to understand where I'm coming from to r
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Literature
Imaginary Clouds part 2.
I woke up, listening to the shower in her room splash constantly against the floor.
Stretching, I stared at the ceiling, in wonder of how I ever ended up here. She was everything I ever wanted, and for that I couldn't thank everyone enough.
I heard a squeak, and slipped out of bed to lay my hand against the door. She rustled around a bit, slipping into her bathrobe that I had gotten her for Christmas last year, and jumped into the slippers.
"Hello." She said, opening the door. She stood, staring at me for a moment. "I didn't realize you were up."
"Just woke up." I said, smoothing my hair with my right hand, while pushing open the door with my left. "I still love you in that."
"I would hope so." She leaned against the door frame, just a few inches from my face. She flicked her eyes down and up again, just playing with my emotions. "The only reason I wear it is for moments like this." She reached over and kissed me slowly, leaving a mark where her lipstick was left from last night.
"Mome
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Literature
Easier
If I knew what to say, this entry would be a lot shorter.
She blew smoke out of her mouth, a mix of the cigarettes she was smoking behind my back and the moisture in her breath in the cold winter air.
She was leaning back in her chair, one arm behind her, letting it lean back on it's back two legs.
We were sitting outside, waiting on food at a restaurant 20 minutes from the beach we were supposed to be at.
She looked at me sideways, giving me that sideways glance she always did when she caught me looking at her like this.
She put her chin in her hands, and smiled at me.
"Frustrated?" She asked quietly.
I blinked slowly, smiling at her. "No. For all of your love of sailors, you never did like the beach."
She had always loved the ocean. She said it made her forget what it was like, here.
Wherever here was.
"Then why did you bring me here?" She asked, blowing smoke right at me.
"Because this was where you needed to be." I waved my hand in front of my face as she blew her breath, tinged sl
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Activity


deviantID

Lloyd132
Lloyd Ikari
Artist
United States
Current Residence: Everywhere, Ohio
Favourite genre of music: Alternative, Indie
Favourite style of art: Everyone's own style. Not a stolen one.
Operating System: Windows
MP3 player of choice: iPod Nano
Shell of choice: A turtle!
Wallpaper of choice: Shadow of the Colossus, Children of Men
Skin of choice: Mine...Or maybe a Power Suit.
Favourite cartoon character: Eva Unit-01
Personal Quote: Limit? What Limit? You have no idea what I'm capable of!
Interests
If I had a singular wish, it would be to put my words onto the page.
I see the purest incantations of emotion, the simple precipice of conflict and choice.
The instant where the choice is made, or taken from them.

I see a simple moment where a smile makes the difference between life and death.
The answer the question that was never meant to be asked.
And yet, I can't seem to put it down.
I can't seem to place it all onto paper.
The people, the places, the wondrous things and heartwrenching images I see;
there they stay, in my sight alone.

Is it a problem of communication?
Or a problem of sophistication?
Am I simply not well versed enough in the language of my choosing?
Or am I simply not well versed enough in it's creation?
Where is the devil when there are no details at all?

I simply play the scene over and over again,
seeing the mother staring into the Devil's Mirror,
asking what she sees after she explains what you see in this mirror,
the worst memory of past or future,
and she simply answers herself.

I play the scene over and over,
and eventually the scene changes to myself,
staring into that mirror.
And I see only a blank page staring back.

Comments


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:iconhowling-nat:
Howling-Nat Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2011
thanks for the favs ^^
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:iconlloyd132:
Lloyd132 Featured By Owner Sep 27, 2011
You're welcome :]
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:iconmeguerine:
Meguerine Featured By Owner Jul 28, 2011
Hello love... :iconskankabelle-suicide: here.... I had to make a new account because there is someone here on DA who has lied to the administrators in order to ban my account... :(
If you still want to get in contact with me you can message me here for now until I can get all this sorted out... I know it's not your battle, but if you would like to help me out to get her banned for harassment please note me and I will tell you who it was and the stupid reasoning behind her childish move.... I'm so sorry and thank you...
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:iconhowling-nat:
Howling-Nat Featured By Owner Jun 25, 2011
thanks for the favs :D
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:iconhowling-nat:
Howling-Nat Featured By Owner Jun 25, 2011
thanks for the favs :D
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:iconcheshire44:
cheshire44 Featured By Owner Jun 19, 2011  Hobbyist
Thanks.. for the favorite.... : )
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:iconnecromentia:
Necromentia Featured By Owner Jun 17, 2011
Thank you!!
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:iconhowling-nat:
Howling-Nat Featured By Owner May 2, 2011
thanks for the faves and watch :D
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:iconlloyd132:
Lloyd132 Featured By Owner May 2, 2011
You're welcome. I'm looking forward to seeing what else you come up with!
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:iconskankabelle-suicide:
Skankabelle-Suicide Featured By Owner May 2, 2011
Thanks again for da favs. :D
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