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Hello, and welcome to The Acrostics Series, which gives notables from around the lit community the opportunity both to sum themselves up in an acrostic of their username and to pretend they're back in the third grade!
Our next visitor to Vegemite Valley is ikazon. He's moderated both the deviantART related and Literature galeries at one time or another, and for you trivia bods out there, the lightningmonkey I just found on OkCupid is NOT, repeat NOT him. He joins us now direct from two inches to the right of his own navel, and his acrostic goes something like:
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If you'd like to nominate someone for participation in The Acrostics Series, either because they're a fascinating person or because they have a really, really long username, drop zebrazebrazebra a line. In the meantime, check out ikazon's work! Fan letters can be left right there, just by his foot.
Our next visitor to Vegemite Valley is ikazon. He's moderated both the deviantART related and Literature galeries at one time or another, and for you trivia bods out there, the lightningmonkey I just found on OkCupid is NOT, repeat NOT him. He joins us now direct from two inches to the right of his own navel, and his acrostic goes something like:
LIGHTNINGMONKEY
Lightningmonkey here! You can call me Trevor, Spike, or Monkey, take your pick.
I'm a writer and a bit of a spaz, being honest.
Generally speaking, I'm a music appreciator, and I used to study music as a profession, but then I realized I wasn't enjoying it as a profession, so I stopped.
However, music is and will likely always be my biggest hobby.
These days I study English literature and creative writing, and spend a lot more time in front of the computer than I should.
Now and then I'll post news articles, depending on what I'm in the mood to do. As of late I've been doing a small set of news articles called Drop into dA Related, which feature deviations from the dA Related gallery.
I've got an affinity for the dA related gallery, it's one of my favorite galleries on the site, and I was a gallery moderator for the dA related gallery on a previous account, so I'm still very much attached to it.
Nights are when I'm most productive, which is why basically everything I post to dA gets posted between 7 pm and 3 am, my time zone.
Going to bed at a decent hour was not ever part of growing up for me. Mom and I would play video games until 2 am, when I was little.
My writing was described to me once as "taking the rare and unusual and giving it a sense of normalcy". I'm not sure if that's accurate or not, but I do like the description.
Other than writing and music, I'm sort of undefined. I try lots of things, with varying degrees of success and failure.
Nearly four years ago I taught myself how to work with CSS code, and it's still something I really enjoy doing when I have the time, but I don't do it very often, with school and everything else on my plate.
Keeping everything in balance is actually something I tend to struggle with. I like to do lots of things, but I tend to try to take on too many things at once, and then it becomes a stress to do just about anything. It's a bad habit, but I'm working on it.
Even though my gallery is mostly poetry, I actually enjoy writing prose a lot more than poetry. It's just that I get headaches when I don't write poetry after a while (I know it sounds weird, but it's the truth), where I can go long periods of time without writing prose, so I write poetry more often.
You should also know that I'm not actually a poetic person. The poems find their way in and out of me on their own, I'm rather prosaic by myself.
AdamI, first feeling this sunken heat, first
scraping this grain desert, first
sitting under verdant walls, I
first touching these rooted crags, first
tripping in the mountain's gloam, first
reaching this brackish fountain, I
first holding the ocean, first
drinking its salt poison, first
sinking to my knees, I
first trying to understand, I
first trying to speak
I
Lightbringer“We’ve got about half an hour until daybreak. The light panel is up and running, so you can begin, lightbringer!”
Kenta closed his eyes to the stars and breathed in through his nose before exhaling sharply out of his mouth. His hands were trembling. When he breathed in next, the stars came with it, pinpricks of light jumping to his fingers, toes, arms, legs, and even his face and hair. Every part of his body seemed to be engulfed in blue light, except his closed eyes. Once the light had gathered, he exhaled through his mouth once again, and the light throughout his body shifted to his left arm until it was contained between his fingertips and his elbow. When he opened his eyes, the sky was only slightly darker than it had been. He did not look at his left arm.
Turning away from the stars, he faced a small white pedestal that came up to his waist. On the top of the pedestal was a small black panel, and he placed his left hand on it, closing his eyes and breathing ou
If you'd like to nominate someone for participation in The Acrostics Series, either because they're a fascinating person or because they have a really, really long username, drop zebrazebrazebra a line. In the meantime, check out ikazon's work! Fan letters can be left right there, just by his foot.
A Matter Of Catching Up.
Gosh. So I guess I'm back. I posted a poem and everything.
Since I was gone, bearing in mind that I don't really remember when I left, I have:
Lived in San Francisco for four years;Been diagnosed with twelve chronic illnesses;Spent a year and a half bedbound;Got married, a bit;Reclaimed my autism (friends, I am autistic as heck);Entered a literary comic erotic fanfiction contest;Started a project called Share My Wonder;
Wrote a lot, but not nearly enough.
What have you been up to while I was gone? What's been happening around deviantART that I missed? What do you want to ask me about the years we spent apart? I just want to get to know yo
Devious Journal Entry
Gosh. Who's around here these days who I remember?
A Teachable Dicking
Last night I dreamt of a king who had journeyed far and wide, whose army had been decimated in battle, who was sick and weary of the world. Just when he thought all hope was lost, he came across the court of a foreign kingdom. They were suspicious of him—and for added flavour, the dream was very specific that they spoke French—but they invited him to refresh himself with dancing and music and a rest in a feather bed. Later that night, of course, two women of the court visited him and proceeded to ramrod him to death.
At this point, it was time to offer feedback. I told the writer I thought the plot was solid, but there were a num
Birthdays, Bubbles and Beauty
Talk to me about America. The green rind of the hills, the desert of the mind. The bubbles blown across Haight and Masonic by a hippy in her prime. Talk to me about the coffee shops, the flowers pushing themselves out of the earth in spring, the heart of things, the moles. Talk to me about dogs in the street and hobos in the park, the breathless rest, the soul. Tell me what it's like to land in San Francisco, the folk drumming of the engine coming to a stop and the tiny crumb you call yourself pushed out into the world. Tell me and I'll tell you how it feels to find a home in these tiny houses, to piece together a neighbourhood out of scraps
© 2011 - 2024 zebrazebrazebra
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Awesome thing this series be.