The goal has been reached, features are now closed!! Well, I guess if you ask nicely I may append the list a bit...
Be one of the first 17 people to comment on this journal entry, and I will add you to the Featured List!
IMPORTANT RULES:
For each of the 17 first people to answer this journal I will put his/her avatar and the three deviations I like most from his/her gallery on the list.
If you answer, you'll have to do the same in your journal, putting me on the first place, completing the list with 17 other people. The idea of this is not to get a free feature, but to spread art around for everyone.
P.S. The order I put your pieces in may NOT be in my favorite order, but they are definitely among my favorites of your gallery
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omnipresence
Every night,
there is a large shadow of the top of a tree on the french doors
sometimes still, sometimes swaying gently in the quiet
a soothing, welcome presence
switch the room light on
it subsides, doesn't go away
vexing,
that it should remind me of some giant human form

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by *hesterkin
by *merpagigglesnort
by *kc267267*----------------------------------------------------------*
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Thirteen StepsHe hadn't been home in days, choosing instead to wander aimlessly through crowded streets and empty parks from sunup to sundown before crashing fully clothed and with an empty stomach onto his office couch at the opposite end of the city. But wandering around only works for so long before you realize that the keys in your pocket are your own, and it was on this day that he chose to stagger in from the afternoon heat.
The lights were off and the shades were drawn. Obviously no one was home, but apparently someone had been there recently after doing a bit of cleaning. A faint hint of lemon and cleaners wafted in front of his face as he paced a

Crayons"What are you drawing?"
He hovered behind a small girl. Her hand was curled clumsily around one of the many markers she had strewn across her desk, the manila paper in front of her receiving mark after colorful mark from her enduring imagination. To him, it looked like a series of haphazardly scribbled lines, overlapping and crisscrossing with no discernable pattern whatsoever.
"Crayons," she breathed silently, concentrating on her masterpiece. The girl barely moved, save for her small arm swishing across the page noisily on its sacred mission. She then slammed the marker down offensively on the desk, scrutinizing the rest of her arsenal be

New to MortalityI cannot stress to you enough just how much I miss my old
life. There was a time when I felt nothing, needed nothing. I
was no one. Forgive me for my rant, I just can't get over
how much feeling comes with mortality. This constant
bombardment of feeling across my face every time I leave
my sanctuary. What is this, wind? And what about the
constant annoyance at the back of my mind when a train
passes or a baby cries or a dog howls or-- how can you put
up with this? What's wrong with you! How can you say
you are happy with all these emotions and, and sensations?!
I cannot tell you how different all of this is, only that it
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Little FootholdsLittle Footholds
I write my words in pen
- in pretty colors to illuminate my emotions.
with hope that they won't disappear.
- like wisps of smoke blow away by a simple wind.
I spend my life with consciousness
- never to stop thinking.
in constant, cold retreat.
- hiding my thoughts in this thinned book.
So much time spent 'elsewhere'
-I just found the book again today.
hardly any time spent 'here'
-I had to smile at the memories written within.
Without these little footholds
-It's good to remember
I would only have defeat.
-to appreciate what I still have

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!yoJ