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About Design & Interfaces / Student TiffanyFemale/United States Group :iconmost-the-zine: MOST-the-zine
 
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Literature
Again
You captured my heart
With your still flame
Steadily rising towards me
Uncannily Arcane
I  took your hand
Intertwined it with mine
Not knowing what lay ahead
Not knowing my time
Would fall short
To internal demons
Leeching out of my soul
Latching onto your bloodstream
Taking it's toll
On what ifs
And whens
Where choices bend
And promises are halted
Until we meet again
:iconfurubafan3:furubafan3
:iconfurubafan3:furubafan3 2 1
Literature
The Result
My soul trickles from the mountain tops
In the form of molten lava
It sears anything it encounters
And hisses on contact
I force my way through the rubble
My hands raw
Stinging
Salt builds up
In the back of my throat
Before I cry
I can't recall your name
You can't recall mine
But all is forgiven
In my minds eye
My sight clouds over
My legs freeze to a halt
I find sanctuary
In the Result
:iconfurubafan3:furubafan3
:iconfurubafan3:furubafan3 1 0
Literature
A new form
I have crafted myself a new skeleton
Out of molten rock of my own demise
I have forged skin and bone, with blood and iron
I no longer fear my own desires
I was once very afraid
I was once in despair
I was once engulfed in my own disease; strangled by my own self doubt
But I stand half breathing, half creaking
In my reprogrammed automaton body
The controls are burnt
The instructions destroyed
As I keep on walking
The words don't hurt
And my thoughts don't waver
As I keep on walking
Your snide remarks splinter
Over my calloused body
As I keep on walking
In this new body I call my own
forged with blood an iron
I am at peace
:iconfurubafan3:furubafan3
:iconfurubafan3:furubafan3 0 0
Literature
Sepia toned memories
I watch the smoke, of your lit cigarette waft seductively through the cold night air.
The burnt ashes, and the musk of well worn leather coat, slide through my finger tips.
It's November, and I foolishly tried to impress you, with a skirt that is too short, and heels that are too high.
We were young, naive, and dressed the part of two fresh faced children trying to be a rugged film noir detective, and a femme fatale. However, we were desperately, and earnestly in love.
I was a self declared academic warrior, bound by duty, and filial piety.
You were a reckless savant, diving into whatever adventure you could get your hands on.
You were riddled with injected needles, poorly healed scars, and the deep unbridled energy of a million faces.
I was very small, very plain, and very trapped.
You got to play the part of the rebellious hero, and I naively thought you were my heaven sent catalyst, that would make my dreams come true.
I remember that thick muggy summer afternoon. It smelled of fres
:iconfurubafan3:furubafan3
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Literature
Stubborn
I'm a stubborn little weed who does not relent
I'm a stubborn little weed who thrives off common sense
Through wind and fire
I will stand at this pyre
And continuously rise
Higher and higher
Towards the canopy of trees
Burning Brighter
:iconfurubafan3:furubafan3
:iconfurubafan3:furubafan3 0 0
Mei's room by furubafan3 Mei's room :iconfurubafan3:furubafan3 0 0 Mei complete by furubafan3 Mei complete :iconfurubafan3:furubafan3 1 0
Literature
What is rightfully mine
I can forge a path in my minds eye
My hands are slow, and uneasy
from the lack of faith in myself
Despite the many wounds I have endured
and the many sleepless nights
I know this too, shall pass
I keep the edges of my spine lifted
So I may gaze upon my domain
I keep my fingers nimble
to dance with the wind
So nothing will remain
From the humble beginnings of spilled ink
and poorly sewn velvet
I am alive
with a new sense of purpose
From scraped knees
and broken glass
I have emerged a new woman
Shallow breaths whittle through me rapidly
As I take my first steps
My blood trickles into valleys, rivers, and storms
As my eyes adjust
to the blinding light
My bones creak into their new positions
As I claim what's rightfully mine
:iconfurubafan3:furubafan3
:iconfurubafan3:furubafan3 1 1
MeiWindow by furubafan3 MeiWindow :iconfurubafan3:furubafan3 0 0
Literature
Tranquil Waters: Reprise
Why hello there love
I see you, strewn across the floor
Why hello there love
I see you staring up at the lights
Why hello there love
I hear your suppressed screams as you drown
Why hello there love
It's time to rise
When you were three, you snuck down those wooden stairs, tiny hands gripping spiral iron bars. You heard thunder and lightning, as the one war that would seal your fate took place.
They laughed at you
The stars
They glinted, mocking you
As they danced away from your grasp
You howled at the sky
Cursed at the moon
And felt the betrayal of your ruined fairy tale
The frosty autumn air burned your salty tears
The thick mud caked your hand me down shoes
And in that moment, you realized
You were alone
You marked yourself as a warrior
When in reality
You were a sacrificial lamb
You accepted your fate
And dove into the murky waters
But now is not the time for tranquil waters
that lull your restless mind to sleep
Now is the time for tranquil waters
that let your thoughts steep
For yo
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Literature
Hope
The cold bitter wind kisses my cheeks as I trudge up the icy road.
My tendons ache under the weight of my heavy clothing, and my breath wafts into thin air.
Hope is a tiny flame I carefully protect. It wavers between my clumsy hands and many mistakes.
One day, I whisper to myself
One day I will find the kindling to spread this flame through out the world.
This is the dream I've had since childhood.
A small tiny seed that flickered faintly by my windowsill in the dead of the night.
I would listen to the Coyotes howl, and the crickets chrip, and the soft breathing of my younger siblings.
Hope is the flame that will change the world.
Hope is a stubborn little thing.
It seeps into your vessels, ebbing and flowing when you least expect it.
It recedes when you believe you need it most, and surges unexpectly
But hope is the flame that will change the world
I huddle beneath the starlit sky and gnaw at the soft threads of my scarf.
Hope is the flame that will change the world.
I clasp my hands
:iconfurubafan3:furubafan3
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Activity


You captured my heart
With your still flame
Steadily rising towards me
Uncannily Arcane

I  took your hand
Intertwined it with mine
Not knowing what lay ahead
Not knowing my time

Would fall short
To internal demons
Leeching out of my soul
Latching onto your bloodstream
Taking it's toll

On what ifs
And whens
Where choices bend
And promises are halted
Until we meet again
My soul trickles from the mountain tops
In the form of molten lava

It sears anything it encounters
And hisses on contact

I force my way through the rubble
My hands raw
Stinging

Salt builds up
In the back of my throat
Before I cry

I can't recall your name
You can't recall mine
But all is forgiven
In my minds eye

My sight clouds over
My legs freeze to a halt
I find sanctuary
In the Result
I have crafted myself a new skeleton
Out of molten rock of my own demise
I have forged skin and bone, with blood and iron
I no longer fear my own desires

I was once very afraid
I was once in despair
I was once engulfed in my own disease; strangled by my own self doubt

But I stand half breathing, half creaking
In my reprogrammed automaton body
The controls are burnt
The instructions destroyed

As I keep on walking

The words don't hurt
And my thoughts don't waver

As I keep on walking

Your snide remarks splinter
Over my calloused body

As I keep on walking

In this new body I call my own
forged with blood an iron
I am at peace
I watch the smoke, of your lit cigarette waft seductively through the cold night air.
The burnt ashes, and the musk of well worn leather coat, slide through my finger tips.
It's November, and I foolishly tried to impress you, with a skirt that is too short, and heels that are too high.

We were young, naive, and dressed the part of two fresh faced children trying to be a rugged film noir detective, and a femme fatale. However, we were desperately, and earnestly in love.

I was a self declared academic warrior, bound by duty, and filial piety.
You were a reckless savant, diving into whatever adventure you could get your hands on.

You were riddled with injected needles, poorly healed scars, and the deep unbridled energy of a million faces.

I was very small, very plain, and very trapped.

You got to play the part of the rebellious hero, and I naively thought you were my heaven sent catalyst, that would make my dreams come true.

I remember that thick muggy summer afternoon. It smelled of fresh asphalt, car exhaust, and weather worn pages of trashy romance novels. We decided to meet up in the garage of a mutual friend's house, because we were the two voices of reason among a sea of hair brained artists.

I could feel the salt from my sweat, trickle down my thighs, as the rusty metal fan continuously blew warm air into our faces. The chattering of adolescent voices mingled with the clattering of cheap printer paper exchanging hands, and unbridled laughter, as our glasses clinked; full of sticky lemonade.


I found your voice sultry
I found your candor enticing
And I was desperate to prove my own worth

Through dimly lit conversations, accompanied by our computer screens, to late night drives through cicada filled fields, I let myself drown in my our own romantic tale.
I let the naivety of young love, and the warm glow of hope lull me to sleep.
I miss it.


I remember the rows of half filled coffee cups, my raw hands folding your clothes, and my knees aching from scrubbing the floor.

I remember the cold winter nights, where I'd stare at my reflection in the bus window, trying to ignore the many hands attempting to grope my body.

I remember being locked up in filth and squalor, my spine twisting, my muscles suffering from atrophy and my throat raw, from holding in my thoughts.

You were a never ending game of Russian Roulette, each morning I went through the motions of an obedient maid, mother, prostitute, and therapist. Never knowing which person or role I was going to face today.

Your hands were cold, and lifeless as you held the small of my back; dressing me up in expensive dresses at cocktail parties. I'd pin up a smile and would obediently sit in your lap, while you sat at the poker table, pretending I wasn't there.

I don't know what happened.

Eventually I grew numb of emotion and returned to my well practiced catatonic state; my faculties exhausted.  

I dreamed of fairy tales filled with wonder and splendor. Magical nights kissed by the moonlight, and an endless sea of stars. I would dream of the ocean, engulfing me in her grand blankets of brine and seaweed, intermingling with the iron my bloody wounds would provide her.

This was how I wanted to die.
I confided this secret to you, in broken short breaths; punctuated by my raw nose sniveling the mucus dripping down my upper lip. You told me I was the most beautiful, when I cried.

We made a pact that night.
You chided me about my inefficient plans of self destruction.
You always have.
Claiming your tincture of poisons would be a surefire way of going to the other side.
Statistically I would be more likely to make it, and you wanted none of that.
If we were to go, we would go together.
How romantic you said
How manipulative I thought
But I forced that red flag down, with a large dose of candy flavored medicine, and the desperate hope that you were the prince I dreamed of as a child.

What a load of bullshit
Here's the thing about fairy tales
They conveniently gloss over the tense silences, the clenched fists, and the fear of falling headfirst down a cliff.

They conveniently ignore your own personal story, and how your partners must intermingle with it, in a precarious, but well tended dance.

They conveiently forget that you are your own person, with your own hopes, dreams, and desires, and once you find someone the timing is crucial.

I still believe in soulmates, but I don't believe in one.
I'm a stubborn little weed who does not relent
I'm a stubborn little weed who thrives off common sense
Through wind and fire
I will stand at this pyre
And continuously rise
Higher and higher
Towards the canopy of trees
Burning Brighter
So I decided to log back into this old account I have been avoiding for about five years now? And I am cringing at all the horrific "art" that I have posted over the years. I have committed every Graphic Design sin (with angsty eyeliner to boot) and became self indulgent in wallowing in my own self pity, as well as thinking I was an "artist" for listening to Christopher Hart's "How to Draw Anime books".Not to mention all the embarrassing comment history of abusive ex boyfriends, the painfully awkward desire to be something I wasn't, and just the poorly executed work in general I put on here that I thought was actually. 

I have occasionally logged into this account to check up on artists I admire and to clean out my inbox now and again, but I never stayed to long. It hurt to see where I was when I was trying so hard to focus on moving forwards, and I guess this account and all the memories I made on this site were painful. Meaningful but painful. 

I made a new account with a different screen name, and made plans to to move my professional graphic design work and other art there, but I could never fully get invested in it. It was hard to start from scratch after building a strong identity under this account for almost a decade. Even if what I posted was shit, people knew who I was and I made a lot of close friends that changed my life. Not in a good way at times, but I did learn and grow from those experiences. 

But, the communities I interacted with here were toxic, and the environment on here grew more and more triggering for me here so I obviously left and currently just hang around tumblr, and flickr. Great communities but shitty interfaces and poor usability over all. The reason I came back was because I missed the connection I had with my online and real life friends on here. I missed the interface, I missed the customization options and portfolio and print options. I think I finally grew into this site to use it properly. 

I doubt any of you have remembered me. But if so. Hello.


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furubafan3's Profile Picture
furubafan3
Tiffany
Artist | Student | Design & Interfaces
United States
Hello everyone! My name is Tiffany and I'm a College student Studying Communications, with a specialty in Graphic Design and Web Development! I love to draw, write, sew, paint, read tarot cards, and observe the world around me. I am half Chinese, half Cambodian.
Interests

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconcptstarlight:
cptstarlight Featured By Owner Jul 18, 2012  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Please talk to me.
Reply
:iconpikaole:
pikaole Featured By Owner Jun 30, 2012  Professional Digital Artist
Thank you so much for the watch :)
Reply
:iconlady-liara:
Lady-Liara Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2011
Thanks for the faves ^_~
Reply
:icondelightfulbunny:
DelightfulBunny Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2010
Thanks for the llama! I made super albino llama!
Reply
:iconanotherclichejrocker:
anotherclichejrocker Featured By Owner Dec 2, 2010  Hobbyist General Artist
FRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNDDDDD!! Just stopping by to say. SUP
Reply
:iconhamstar0138:
hamstar0138 Featured By Owner Nov 12, 2010
YAY! Finally we figured out what the account is. LOL I don't go on much so i do forget. XP
Reply
:iconsoimstillunsure:
SoImStillUnsure Featured By Owner Oct 25, 2010  Hobbyist Writer
:icongrin--plz: Thanks for the :+fav: on my piece, "A Promise She Made With Death"
Reply
:iconfurubafan3:
furubafan3 Featured By Owner Oct 26, 2010  Student Interface Designer
Not a problem! :D It's always rare to find good writing on here. Deviantart seems to cater more towards visual art unfortunately.
Reply
:iconnya99:
Nya99 Featured By Owner Oct 13, 2010
Thank you for the fave :)
Reply
:iconun-freak:
Un-Freak Featured By Owner Sep 28, 2010
Sis, it's scissors, not sizzors.
Reply
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