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- Deviant for 12 years
- final-cigarette.tumblr.com
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My Bio
Hello, my name is Rese and I hail from a small island somewhere in the middle of ocean, which I cannot recall the name of for the life of me, nor do I know its geographical location (no one tells me anything.) It's very warm here with many tourists wandering around in appallingly garish raiment, so I'm going to guess somewhere close to the equator, if that helps you any.
My days consist of renting myself out to unknowing families as an Japanese-imported android via a Craigslist ad, designed to clean your house, eat all your food, and possibly destroy your home life in the process. At night, I like to listen to lots of depressing music while writing lots of depressing stories loosely based around depressing real-world tales that other people have told me to chase off the nagging ghosts in my head (so it's easier to sleep, you see.) I also suffer from an unnerving bout of paranoia and have an extreme mistrust of motorized vehicles, government-run charity organizations, pre-written cooking instructions on the back of food packages, warehouse-sized department stores, and, of course, myself.
And only two of the aforementioned facts are actually the truth.
My days consist of renting myself out to unknowing families as an Japanese-imported android via a Craigslist ad, designed to clean your house, eat all your food, and possibly destroy your home life in the process. At night, I like to listen to lots of depressing music while writing lots of depressing stories loosely based around depressing real-world tales that other people have told me to chase off the nagging ghosts in my head (so it's easier to sleep, you see.) I also suffer from an unnerving bout of paranoia and have an extreme mistrust of motorized vehicles, government-run charity organizations, pre-written cooking instructions on the back of food packages, warehouse-sized department stores, and, of course, myself.
And only two of the aforementioned facts are actually the truth.
Favourite Movies
The Maȋtresse | Dogtooth | XXY | Everything is Illuminated | The Darjeeling Limited | Friday | The Chronicles of Riddick series | etc.
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Rammstein | Type O Negative | Depeche Mode
Favourite Books
Zeno's Conscience | Fahrenheit 451 | The Sicilian
Other Interests
wasting good pens and paper | singing badly | unintentionally scaring strangers
Help?
0 min read
I really hate how obsessions work.
I come across another writer, an visual artist who's work I happen to greatly enjoy, or a band that I've really become fascinated with -- and...et alia -- who happens to be at a much higher skill level than I am, I become so infatuated with that person that it becomes impossible for me to forget them. I'm hooked as long as that person has a presence on this planet and there's no ridding myself of it, nor telling myself to stop.
It's...like the box of fine chocolate that you may have been given as a gift -- or you've purchased yourself, if that suits your case better. You open that box telling yourself that
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Crap writing from my notes:
0 min read
The shot glass is blood-warm from being clutched within my hand.
This elegantly crafted drinking glass once belonged to my grandparents - once they'd died, I'd discovered it amongst their possessions and claimed it for myself, if nothing else. And since then it's been put to good use, assisting in guiding me through many a night's melancholic stupor. Many of which bad enough to keep me awake into the early hours of the morning with nothing to do but focus my vision upon the vacant walls surrounding me and dream on without bothering, nor possessing the will to close my eyes.
Dreaming is a beautiful thing, I believe. Or at least, I'd like to.
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NEINNEINNEINNEINNEINNEIN-
0 min read
I have an mini-archive of "poetry" on my hard drive, and I hate every last bit of it. Mainly the fact that they have absolutely no rhythm at all. It's as if, while I was writing them, I said to myself, "LOL METRE CAN GO SUCK A DICK" and just started writing down entire stanzas that don't flow in the slightest.
And reading them aloud makes me think of riding shotgun with a first-time driver: instead of getting a smooth ride from point A to point B, you'll be spending the duration of the trip getting partially thrown into the windscreen each time said idiot behind the steering wheel slams their foot on the breaks.
They kinda-sorta sound okay
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Profile Comments
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