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About Deviant Artist Nuggets McGeeMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 9 Years
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Literature
Family
Don’t rely on those
who love you
for everything about you
that is beautiful,
because that is not enough
to merit trust.
Instead, turn to those
who love you
despite everything about you
that is ugly
because when you let go,
they’ll still be holding on
and when you give them your back
they will still be there when you turn around,
ready to forgive
even before you’ve mustered the courage
to apologize.
Turn to those
who you call brother and sister
though you don’t share a lineage;
those you call mother, father, children
through a bond thicker than blood,
because though they did not give birth to you,
they give life to you.
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Literature
Wall
Wall
It does not fool me –
a visceral understanding
allows me to see through this veneer:
a wall
of stones solidified by struggle,
and cemented into place by insecurity.
Painted with patterns of positivity,
it deceives passersby so well
they never once think
this façade is framed by a fortification,
and just beyond that barrier
wanders a soul, tangled
in a maze of its own making.
This fortress fabricated from fear
is possessed by the spirit who haunts its passages,
and makes of it a prison,
but this confinement was not crafted consciously.
Tattered by trauma, the body became a bastion,
walls within which the mind withdrew
to dwell, like a shadow in a shell.
And just as I see through the false front,
I hear the stifled screams beneath the laughter.
You’ve become raveled in your refuge,
and though I mean to rescue you,
I will not destroy your defenses,
steal from you this sanctuary
and leave you naked to unknown elements –
no, I know this stronghold is a shelter,
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Literature
Late night, Early bird
A caffeine induced Insomnia,
I forgot what morning feels like,
I'm the first customer.
A shot of espresso in a cup of coffee
to forgot I'm tired
and a cigarette to feel normal.
It's cold, I'm shaking,
not sure if there's a relationship,
and here it is:
Early birds are trying
to get a head start
populating the roadways,
I want to tell them,
hey, man, hey!
the worm is a myth.
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Literature
Fish Eye View
It’s not my fault
you expect a fish
to walk on land like you,
but maybe it is my fault
for taking the bait,
letting you yank me into the air
to deal with the questioning criticism,
“Why can’t you just breathe like everyone else?”
I know, you tell me you care
but I’ve swallowed enough worms
to know what that means -
You care what others say.
You care about the comments,
about how I have fins instead of feet.
You care about a perception of me,
because when you look
down into this pond,
you see a distorted reflection of yourself.
You don’t know the schools I swim with,
you don’t know the depths I live in,
so you don’t know
what’s beneath the surface.
So here’s the situation:
either I’ll live to be
a disappointment in your eyes,
or I’ll suffer to be
a disappointment in my eyes,
and guess whose eyes I care more about.
I’m sick of this suffocation,
so take your hook out of the water,
and stop trying to save me
I
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Literature
Used to be
Sober used to be “normal”, but now it’s “not drunk”. Drunk used to be a destination, but now it’s a way-point. The shelves of brown liquor used to be an adventure, but now it’s a road map. The clock used to be fifteen minutes ahead, but now it’s as good a time as any. It used to be the future, but now it’s tomorrow.
It used to be a glass half-full, but now it’s ice. It used to be one drink, but now it’s another. It used to be a pleasure, but now it’s a tolerance. It used to be a cigarette, but now it’s a filter. It used to be today, but now it’s tomorrow.
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Literature
Imperfect Machine
Maybe from the dust of stars,
which span from one side of the universe to the other,
you were conceived to be a beacon of hope,
with a guiding light, dissolving the darkness of human life
to see what is and what could be,
to help others discover their own internal benevolence,
to make the world a brighter place,
And maybe you were meant
to be above and unfettered by this reality,
to give the clouds their silver lining,
but you were dragged down to this earth
by one who did not comprehend or appreciate what you are
and, injured and confused, you lost your way.
So maybe from the ebb and flow of existence,
which spans from the beginning to the end of time,
I was crafted like an imperfect machine
and sent after you, following a dimmed shimmer,
to see you for what you are,
to help you understand and believe,
to make you embrace and be,
And maybe I was meant
to stumble onward with faulty parts
and attempt to fix other broken creations,
learning to work with dysfunctional tools,
having a purp
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Literature
Something about Spring in California
Something about Spring in California
makes me want to
quit my job
start a new romance
write about Spring in California
So I did,
so I will,
so I am.
Something about Spring in California
makes me want to miss my exit,
so I can keep driving down the freeway
with the wind rushing through my open window,
even though I finished my cigarette
several miles ago
makes me want to get a drink
when the sun goes down,
so I can stand outside the bar
in the warm twilight and share with strangers
my feelings on the weather
makes me want to cut ties
with the world of responsibility
lose the feeling of my feet
on the ground, and float until my head
is in the blue, blue, slightly cloudy blue.
So I did,
so I will,
so I try.
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Literature
Free Coffee and Forgotten Pens
Coffee at the bar – I mean, its not good, but it’s free and that’s a helluva lot cheaper than at the café. Free, like this pen I found on the ground outside the café, and I’m just happy to discover it works. It works, unlike me, because I quit my job to be a writer, so that’s why I like things that are free, like dive bar coffee, and forgotten pens. But back to the coffee; it tastes a bit better then you throw in a shot of whisky. The whisky isn’t free, but hey, they don’t serve Irish coffee at the café – I mean, they probably from upon it, but they know me, and if I brought a flask and kept it subtle, they probably wouldn’t care, but I don’t like diluting good coffee, but I have done it before. Let’s move on.
I quit my job because it was killing me. It wasn’t stabbing me in the chest or slitting my throat, but I’ll put it this way. This is what I thought when I decided, months in advance
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Literature
Pre-Alcoholic
A pocket full of black, narrow, chewed-up
straws with the trace residue of
gin and tonic from the dive bar where
they call me Caesar, where
men shooting pool bet five bucks
a game on a slightly slanted table, where
friendships are formed over a cigarette;
Half-gnawed ebony plastic tubes
when I reach for my wallet
symbolize the transition I knew was coming
from black coffee at the cafe
because it was never really about
the cappuccinos, just as it's not about
the cocktails, it's nothing more
than consuming a beverage at a location,
wearing away the novelty of an atmosphere
in search of inspiration to translate
into words etched in dark ink.
So, here's a compromise:
I'll get a cup of coffee,
with room for whiskey.  
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Literature
Why is war a perpetual element?
Why is war a perpetual element
of our coexistence?
Words like gunshots, wild
from behind the barricades of our ignorances;
Insecurities planted like landmines
awaiting an innocent misstep;
Threats lobbed like bombs,
causing irreparable damage.
When can we put down
these weapons of love?
Disengage, disassemble and diffuse
these articles of destruction,
repopulate our minds
with thoughts and feelings
not deafened by the din of combat
so we can hear one another -
We can reach one another
with these arms.
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Literature
Sophie
Feet unguided by consciousness follow familiar paths so trodden in the past they could never fade. The overdue grey cloud cover that had only begun taking precedence over the California autumn skies in mid-October had already drifted from the valley, leaving a clear view of the stars which, in an overlit city, were so few and scattered, they could be counted. I wiled away cigarettes, a process which has become as absent-mindedly second-nature as managing through the unshakeable feeling of isolation. A young man passed me from behind, looked at me, and apologized, saying "I thought you were someone I know." I was just a stranger.
By the time I wandered into the coffee shop where, several years earlier, I had begun the journey of discovering and expressing myself with words, and the habit of falling in love with anonymous women, they were wiping down the counters in preparation for closing. It was true to my memories in appearance, but I had long since exhausted my own capacity to write,
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Literature
I Love You, but
"I Love You, but"
is an awful way to start
because it feels like the end
of the existence we've become adjusted to.
At first, there was "I" alone,
and eventually there was "You",
and almost instantaneously after meeting,
between "You" and "I", there was "Love".
It was a wonderful three-part harmony,
until there was "but",
and the music became dissonance.
I Love You, but
our realities cannot mesh
like our bodies and souls
in the heat of making.
The unity of our intimacy
is contrasted by the conflict and clash
of our philosophies and lifestyles.
I Love You, but
I feel trapped within this relationship,
caged behind the unyielding bars
solidified by your insecurities.
Understand, my heart was never unsatisfied.
content to be contained within your grasp,
but my mind and soul must venture ever outward.
I Love You, but
I'm suffering and you don't see it,
I ache and you don't feel it,
I tell you and you don't hear it.
I have tried to reach you with my voice,
but I've found my only option for e
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Literature
A painless perfection
When we started down this path,
we both said we didn't know
what we were looking for.
We were lonely, and tired
of feeling the breeze blow
through a hole we each had, which love
was meant to fill.
My hole was soft and flexible
and ready to form itself
around a new, wonderful reality
of womanhood, to expand
with the maturation of that entity,
and it never occurred to me
that, because you're a woman,
not a girl, but a woman,
tailored to an eleven-year establishment,
your walls had  become rigid
in a way that only time,
if anything, could relax.
Maybe the timing was just wrong,
if it ever could have been right,
because your hole is shaped for another,
and I could never fit,
even though I tried to trim away
the misfit edges of my existence,
and each cut stung and bled.
When we said we didn't know
what we were looking for,
the difference was
I was searching for anything,
and you were searching for something.
Now I have a space
contoured to your beautiful existene,
but I cannot liv
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Literature
While
While you are my Sun,
I am alone in night,
and even the moon is blank,
reflecting no portion of you.
While I see other stars,
more than I could count,
they are distant;
I do not revolve around them,
nor will I ever.
While I am alone in this night,
in this darkness,
your light is on the other side of the world.
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Literature
My Curse
It was my curse,
and it has become hers -
so she suffers for loving me,
and maybe, secretly, she hates me for it.
So I will go outside
to have a cigarette -
at this point, I cannot ask more from the universe
than the serenity of a fuming cylinder,
but I will push for blue smoke.
I have resigned myself
to a life with my body
becoming the host to a small guilt,
which dries my throat,
twists my stomach, and drags down my heart
and this office is so sterile
while I feel so filthy,
and the end of my work day is four hours away
while she is another hour and a half away,
and there's this hollow ache inside me
while I try to function.
and if I'm really lucky
my smoke will be blue.
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Literature
Jack and Coke
If ever you asked me
to compare your kisses to a drink,
I would say,
Jack and Coke on the rocks.
But not the room-temperature-2-liter-bottle
kind of coke,
or the syrup-and-seltzer-water-from-a-nozzle
kind of coke,
I mean the go-down-to-the-7-eleven-and-buy-one-of-those-12-oz-glass-bottles-made-in-Mexico
kind of coke,
because your kisses are so sweet,
they must be made from pure sugar cane.
And they hit my mouth so cool,
but go down so warm,
and that bubbly sensation
mixes with the whiskey
so sweet and so smooth and
so, maybe it's too easy to drink, and
so I ask for another and another and
so you have to cut me off
because I get carried away
in the intoxication
of your kisses, like
Jack and Coke on the rocks.
And that is what I would tell you,
if you ever asked me
to compare your kisses to a drink.
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Favourites

Faith Wars :icontompreston:TomPreston 4,066 3,410 California Candy :iconnaked-in-the-rain:naked-in-the-rain 839 44
Literature
C.P.R
You pressed your lips upon mine ever so gently, and breathed life back into my cold dead body. To breath again, the gasp of air filled my lungs, got my heart beating again. The rose color returned to my cheeks as my veins filled with warm blood. To open my eyes and have your face be the first I see, I know it's you who saved me. How can I return this favor? You gave me life again. I'm forever indebted to you.  To feel, to breath, to LIVE again. You've given me the greatest gift of all.
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Literature
Imagine: A world without God
This is what every Atheist dreams of, and Imagines from time to time.
What would a world be like without God?
We'll Just have to see.
Will the world be like that some day?
Yes.
Let me tell you how:
Obama (our current president - FOR NOW), will one day announce, very very soon, that by law....
Everyone has to get a micro chip implanted within their right hand, and on their forehead.
This chip is called the RFID chip.
I don't know about you, but I sense something odd about that chip.
let's see....
In the bible, it talks about the mark of the beast..... that whoever receives it, will get it placed in their right hand and in their forehead.
Wait.... what?!
Yes, if you actually read upon it, it's mentioned in the book of revelations.
Really?
Yes.
Okay....
Now after the Rapture: The disappearing of people, without a trace -In other words- When Jesus picks his people up... This is when the one who will rise as a savior to the world..... or so will many people be fooled into thinking.
He is kn
:icon370wii:370wii
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Proposed Movies abt BP disaste :iconmokoo:mokoo 1 0
Mature content
Unicorn Girl :iconkikothedragon:kikothedragon 2 2
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Mature content
SONICS HUGGE BUTT :iconbobthefireakidna:Bobthefireakidna 16 34
Blueheart :iconxnumberxthirteenx:XnumberXthirteenX 1 3 OH BOY A BALANCED BREAKFAST :icongastrodon:Gastrodon 3 5 Cool Like That :iconvalinvasion:Valinvasion 2 1 toD: Two o' Clock :iconmagicalmonkeyguy:Magicalmonkeyguy 3 12 toD: Recked Angles :iconmagicalmonkeyguy:Magicalmonkeyguy 5 6

Activity


deviantID

imdead-goaway
Nuggets McGee
Artist
United States
Piercing number two

Current Residence: Who knows?
Favourite genre of music: Classic Rock
Favourite photographer: Tung Dao
Interests
So, I haven't posted on here in forever, but -
I have a novel coming out soon (end of June), and you can buy it now:
The Peach and the Poppy

It's about lesbians in Paris.
Buy it. Review it.
Help me be a little less of a struggling writer. 

Comments


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:iconroodieshoes:
RoodieShoes Featured By Owner Mar 31, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Who is that bitch who spawned a hate group?
Reply
:iconimdead-goaway:
imdead-goaway Featured By Owner Apr 8, 2013
I dunno. I just saw something she posted on the front page, and wanted to see what would unfold.
Reply
:iconriverreptar:
RiverReptar Featured By Owner Oct 25, 2011
<3
Reply
:iconimdead-goaway:
imdead-goaway Featured By Owner Oct 25, 2011
;P
Reply
:iconii9:
II9 Featured By Owner Apr 10, 2010
Reply
:iconimdead-goaway:
imdead-goaway Featured By Owner Apr 10, 2010
...
and?
Reply
:icon370wii:
370wii Featured By Owner Mar 26, 2010  Hobbyist Writer
Even God will have mercy on lost souls
Reply
:iconimdead-goaway:
imdead-goaway Featured By Owner Mar 26, 2010
Mercy...
As in sending them to suffer in hell.
For eternity.
As he does with everyone that doesn't appease him.
Because he holds against every human being the sin of relatives so many generations back it's inconceivable.
Reply
:icon370wii:
370wii Featured By Owner Mar 29, 2010  Hobbyist Writer
no, those who refuse to believe in him will suffer after death.
Reply
:iconnightshade43:
nightshade43 Featured By Owner Jun 28, 2010
Cool.
I'm going to Hell now.
Sweet.
Reply
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