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About Deviant Artist AlexFemale/United States Group :iconfiends-de-lasalle: Fiends-de-LaSalle
 
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Deviant for 9 Years
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Blob Life Cycle by RebelTango Blob Life Cycle :iconrebeltango:RebelTango 1 0 Crazy Heart by RebelTango Crazy Heart :iconrebeltango:RebelTango 0 3 Twin Thing by RebelTango Twin Thing :iconrebeltango:RebelTango 1 0 Odd Man Out by RebelTango Odd Man Out :iconrebeltango:RebelTango 3 0
Literature
13
P.S.
If she keeps this up, she'll kill herself, whether she's trying to or not.  Pretty soon, you'll realize this and decide you'd rather make her hate you, than have to live with not trying to save her.  
You'll watch her sleep and listen to her breathe, and you will want to cry because she's so perfect.  At some point that night, you'll lose your nerve.
You might not be brave enough to let her hate you.
Every day might hurt her.
You might be selfish in keeping her alive.
But I'll kill you if you don't try.  
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Literature
Polishing the Brass
Do not vote for me.  I am too young, and you need a wise-man, steeped in tradition, not a warrior.  Do not vote for me, because I am terrifying.  I will change your world, and that is a discomfort.  I will alter your routine and cut passages through the mountains that block your minds, sending winding train tracks of iron between ideas.  I will send your souls on an exodus from the everyday mediocrity, and lead you to fertile soil beyond.  Some of you will die.  So do not vote for me.
You do not need me to lead you, because you are comfortable, invincible, untouchable, unsinkable.  To deviate from what you know would be a risk.  It would be an effort, and an unnecessary one.  But keep in mind that the bit of ice in your way is far larger than it appears.  I suggest someone listens to the vainly sent telegraphs while they still can, and cuts the wheel, hard.  Redirect
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Literature
Dear Me
Hey.
It's me, you.  So, you're graduating middle school.  You got accepted to LaSalle Academy.  Congrats.
Things are gonna get rough.  Pretty soon,  you'll be in high school.  I know you're excited.  I know you wanted to go to LaSalle for years.  Mom wanted you to.  Grandpa wanted you to, and that's why Mom wanted it.  You're never going to really talk to your friends again.    
At LaSalle, you'll learn who you are.  You might not like it.  You'll have friends who hurt themselves, and friends who do drugs, and friends who don't eat.  You're going to love them no matter what, even though you won't understand at first, and you'll wish you could do something to help them.  You wont be able to, and it's gonna make you feel bad about yourself.  Just remember that loving them is the best thing you can do.  That's h
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Literature
Artist's Statement
The worst moment of my life was spent on a Friday afternoon, staring at a computer screen in my principal's office.  Mr. Kavanagh and I were busy watching the security footage of the hallway just outside my homeroom class, which was not so coincidentally the last place I had ever seen my portfolio.  
Standing behind Mr. Kavanagh's desk and leaning over to better see the small window, I couldn't help but wonder why the video was in color.  On television, security tapes were always black and white and on VHS, but my school had everything set up digitally, with months of  footage saved.  I appreciated our technology for a moment, but it didn't take long for me to regret that the video was so well defined and lifelike in color.  It only made the image of a janitor picking up my portfolio all the more chillingly accurate.  I couldn't look away as the scene played out on the computer screen.  The man took the por
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Literature
I Am Not A God
When the government fell, she had been the only one left standing.  Her ethics as a senator had been so great as to have never created her a single enemy among the insurgents, and for that, her life was spared.    
Survivor's guilt is a powerful destroyer of someone's soul.
Five years later, and the sensation, the twenty three year old woman senator who had won over the nation with a charming smile and a knack for embarrassing the more corrupt politicians, was unrecognizable as a cold, impenetrable twenty eight year old.  
As the last remaining member of government who held any significant position of power after the attack, she had taken over in days, pulling together all the armed forces and surviving citizens.  On the fifth day after the dust settled, she made it clear that the war was not over.  Standing atop the mountain of rubble that was once the tallest building in the country, in front of a blazing, red rising sun, th
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Literature
Red
The forensic evidence left at the crime scenes was completely useless. The size eight footprints lead to a dead end. The sneakers with that particular tread were far to popular to help narrow down the search. The DNA, recovered from under the nails of the victims, wasn't in a single database. Nor were the fingerprints, though there were many, mostly on the throats of the corpses, accompanied by horrific bruising.
The investigators only had two real leads.  The deep gashes across the backs of the strangled bodies contained the first lead, bits of leather which were eventually traced back to a whip made in Italy. But there were seven hundred of the whips made every year, and the company refused to give up a list of buyers.  The second, even more ghastly lead, was the word that was carved into the cheeks of the dead more precisely with each of the twenty nine kills.
The word was "Red," and when the information was leaked, that's what the media dubbed the killer. And th
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Literature
A Lunch Date With Friends
The Muse of Misery sat at a table with Pandora and Eris one afternoon, sipping her tea while Pandora munched on a shiny red apple, and Eris polished her golden one. They shared stories and laughed at the tragedies they'd encountered, Eris asked the Muse, "What's got you looking so fucking depressed?"
The Muse smiled and shook her head, staring thoughtfully at the remaining drops of tea in her cup. "Nothing at all."
"Bulllll shit," Pandora snorted, a bit of apple/spit flying onto the table. "It's that bitch. The one that doesn't believe in us."
"'Us,' includes me, Pandora," the Muse commented miserably. "Although, that could be a rather accurate statement. She doesn't believe in me lately."
Eris was feeling less than compassionate. "Jesus Christ. Get over it, Misery. You're slacking off your job because you're such a despairing bitch."
"Oh, fuck you," the muse moaned wearily.
Pandora placed a hand on Eris' shoulder. "Go easy on the poor girl. She's in love."
"Whatever," Eris waved the i
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Literature
Lonely Ever After
Once Upon a Time, there was a girl who fell in Love.  This has become such a Cliche, girls falling in Love, so knowing this, and understanding that riding off on the back of Prince Charming's horse was no longer the Vogue, she dismissed the fact that his every glance in her direction made her heart soar, and married a wealthy, young anaesthesiologist.  They moved into a new home, and had a family together.
The years passed, and one day, as she dropped her youngest daughter off on her first day of the third grade, another parent caught this girl, now a woman's, eye.  It was the man she'd fallen in Love with so many years ago, dropping his own young daughter off at school.  
The woman could have said something.  She could have called his name, or even just smiled at him.  But she didn't.  She just kissed her daughter goodbye, and returned to her car, where she Cried all the ride home. She did this for the remaining 179
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Literature
Untitled
We measure love in teaspoons here, it's so tangible.  It makes things sticky and it leaks all over, thicker than the hot, yellow lava that always stays just far enough away.  When you meet someone new, it is customary to take out your teaspoon and measure their love, while they do the same to you.  Whoever has more love at the moment is obliged to give the other enough to make their respective measurements equal, so you both have just as many teaspoons of love as each other.  This can get messy, and the love gets all over the place, but that's okay.
I already mentioned the lava.  It will stay away from you unless you touch it.  Don't touch it.  It's hot.  On the other hand, the sparkling geyser nearby is a lovely temperature for keeping your hands warm on a cold day.
There's generally fire around somewhere.  It's often like the lava, but can be temperamental, and it smells like cinnamon.
The flowe
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Literature
Our Lord
In the year 2011, a study was conducted throughout the western world
In July of that year, two months into the research, the answer was found
Yes, the answer
Not the answer to their one question, but the answer to all questions everywhere
It was revealed to these chosen men and women in July of the year 2011
that the human is not the dominant species
The human's higher power is nothing
It was revealed that Rabbits rule
The Rabbit rules all
The Rabbit is King
The Rabbit is held to the highest standard,
and the Rabbit is the Lagamorph of the Most High
The Rabbit is our Lord
The Rabbit is our God
And then there was celery, and They said it was good
Amen.
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Literature
Suburban Warfare
For hours, you’ve been waiting.  You still are, silently perched on your vantage point at the top of the oak tree beside your raised ranch, one of many in a neighborhood of oaks and raised ranches.  Something catches your attention, but it’s just a cat, one of countless cats, all named Socks or Mittens or Sassy or Tiger, that wander the nearby yards.  Turning your attention away from the distraction of the cat, you listen.  A dog is barking two blocks away, and you grow tenser by the moment. That bark is the distinct bark of the slightly overweight golden retriever that lives in the yellow raised ranch with light blue shutters.  It is one of numerous golden retrievers and yellow labs that live in the area, but this bark, you know best.  This bark is a warning.
You have waited in this tree, with pocketknife at your side, binoculars around your neck, helmet on your head, kneepads protecting your joints,  and
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Literature
The Darkroom
Kara had never been with someone like Catharine in her life.  They’d been on two dates so far, the first just a casual meeting at a local coffee shop nearby both their schools.  Catharine was a student at an art school known for its bizarre deomgraphic, and Kara was studying business.  Somehow, they’d hit it off from the moment they met.  Kara had seen Catharine checking her out from the bar at Club Mephisto, as intently as though she were picturing her sculpted out of marble, or painted on canvas, immortalized in her artwork.  But there was something more besides, a hunger in her eyes that both terrified and attracted Kara.  So when Cat sauntered over and asked her to dance, she didn’t think twice before taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.  
The coffee date had been fun, and Cat had intrigued and charmed Kara enough that she’d asked her on a second date.  Cat had thril
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Favourites

Literature
Tall Tree and the Sun
The Three Trees on the Sun
1. Small Tree was as tall as all of our grandfathers standing on each others shoulders.
2. Middle Tree was as tall as all of our grandmothers and grandfathers standing in the same fashion.
3. Tall Tree was much taller than both of her sisters combined. If every creature that ever lived stood on the shoulders of the creature before it, it would still not be as tall as Tall Tree.
The Three Trees Turn to Ashes
1. It took two thousand years for Small Tree to catch fire, and her ashes fell away and created the other stars.
2. It took five thousand years for Middle Tree to catch fire, and her ashes fell away and created all the small planets.
3. Because Tall Tree was much taller than her sisters, she lasted a hundred thousand years before she caught fire. When her ashes fell away, the largest tree prayed to the Sun.
Tall Tree's Prayer
1. "I witnessed the day that you took Small Tree and made her ashes the stars."
2. "I witnessed the day th
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Literature
crumbled columns
mars is on his knees waving surrender,
god of war turned timid lover, he is
begging you to look away
(i can't see you like this, i can't
see you splintering---
i should have known you'd
fray at the edges)
don't say those broken words;
save your voice for lullabies
printed in history books
out of tune with comfort--
you're not happy here
i've seen broken
wildernesses struck like piano keys;
the sharp notes resonate through the
branches in my spine;
have you heard about the falling pantheon?
they tumbled through the forest leaving
us alone, we're alone, we're not strong enough for this;
you're not strong enough for this, and
i can't carry you;
save your voice:
don't call for help, there's no one there---
we're alone here
everything is black;
we used to be bright red brushed across night's canvas,
now we're helpless,
now we're running out of words, and ther's nothing left to say,
there's no one here to hear us, so
save your voice
(we can whisper with our withered tongues,
we'll remember o
:iconErsatzInspiration:ErsatzInspiration
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Literature
frail wings
hey icarus---
you knew you'd fail,
you had that flaw
(don't admit you were wrong,
apology's a sign of weakness)
you're stronger than that
dad had bold words,
warnings as stark and cold as
the sea sent to swallow you,
digested from legend to myth
you should have asked me
what the sky felt like;
i would have told you
stay away---
even birds only come up for a moment
(no one wants to be where they belong)
this is you spinning down in
your own twilight, little bird,
"you deserved it"
he let this happen
you weren't built to last---
you were built with knees and
made for corrosion, and i bet
you didn't know you're bones are hollow
(had you asked, you'd have known:
you weren't made for the sea,
you weren't made for the sky;
you were made of match sticks and splinters)
"don't fly too high"
you knew you would, you knew you'd fail;
there are more than just sirens out here
and you haven't earned your feathers,
so you should have asked
what the sky felt like so
you could be prepared
(i could have
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Mature content
ode to the hipster :iconersatzinspiration:ErsatzInspiration 1 4
perspective by Wolfruede perspective :iconwolfruede:Wolfruede 353 38
Literature
penguins
"I like penguins," was my tepid response to the little doodle Alex had dropped on my desk.
She merely nodded and returned her attention to whatever she was drawing at the time; for once, I was too preoccupied to look over her shoulder and watch whatever it was bloom out of the tip of her pen.  The little scrap of paper before me had a little cluster of cartoon penguins voicing their love for me (and cheese:  a sentiment I will always echo) in tiny speech bubbles above their heads.  This was my best friend's attempt to make me feel better, and I could go as far as to say that it worked, at least somewhat.
Five minutes earlier, with my head on the cold desk in the middle of my history class and my hair in my face, I was trying as hard as I could to keep from shaking.  I felt a hand on my shoulder and knew I was being comforted, but I was ill-prepared to respond, so I shook my head slightly and tried not to think about lunch or english class.
I trie
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King of the World by Licorize King of the World :iconlicorize:Licorize 79 10 Au dessus des nuages by sssashimi Au dessus des nuages :iconsssashimi:sssashimi 25 26 Russian Beauty by chadmichaelward Russian Beauty :iconchadmichaelward:chadmichaelward 112 14 The Hierophant by chadmichaelward
Mature content
The Hierophant :iconchadmichaelward:chadmichaelward 1,995 184
Literature
Forgotten
"I don't like this!" he shouted in a rage of fury, "I'm not gonna take it anymore!"
"You're being irrational, just try to calm down. Try thinking about your childhood, think back to better times," I reply, voice calm and steady as always.
"Remember? Remember! I'm trying to forget!" he continues on his tirade, "Do you think I like this? I've been trying to forget all these years, why do you think I was sent here?"
"You and I both know very well why you are here," I continue, unphased by his behavior, it's not like I haven't heard this a dozen times over from patients every day for the past 15 years.
"Stop patronizing me! You think I'm just some dumb nut, don't you. Probably abused as a child or... or just cracked under the stress of work!" he's still shouting, with rather more vigor than usual, I might add, "You don't think for a minute that I'm just a man who has been haunted by a memory his whole life, do you? You don't stop to think that maybe he just needs to forget this whole ordea
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Mistletoe Wishes by TazzyDee Mistletoe Wishes :icontazzydee:TazzyDee 38 29 BlueMorpho Glass ButterflyWing by FusedElegance BlueMorpho Glass ButterflyWing :iconfusedelegance:FusedElegance 3,648 524 Baby Tuba by QueenofHearts1216 Baby Tuba :iconqueenofhearts1216:QueenofHearts1216 8 4
Literature
Lock Picks and Rocks
We broke into the old apartment
to look for things we'd lost when moving on
and moving out, across the street
and sixteen cities South. I tried to take
the poems from the windows but memories
are more permanent than marker. Mornings
seemed longer when sunrise wrote words
on bare walls and bare skin, or when
I traced end-rhymes and metaphors into the curve
of your hips.
These days we don't sleep.
and I couldn't find them; instead
we found furniture that spelled apathy
and wrong words on right angles, organized
and dead. They painted over
our names curled above the bedroom, they washed
the windows with writer's block and fixed the draft
that we'd called Dennis. They crafted locks
to keep out the mystery of movement.
and please, understand yourselves,
learn that white walls and black thoughts
are another portrait that ages
when you do not, and surely
there are other ways
to know peace than
quiet and clean.
When we drove home we trailed kite string
from the broken window, and signed our na
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Naamah by GENZOMAN Naamah :icongenzoman:GENZOMAN 14,558 564

Activity


I'm in the process of cleaning up this account, since it's been quite a while.  Any writing that survived to exist on here in the future will be edited over the summer.  Reading it all has me completely frustrated by pieces with great concepts, fantastic single lines, and horrible style and execution.  If any of you truly love me, serious critiques would be greatly welcomed.

This is going to be a place for my visual art too.  I guess I should start photographing the shit I've made this year in school.

deviantID

RebelTango
Alex
Artist
United States
What happens if you give up your soul in order to save a sinner you love?

Current Residence: .Providence
Favourite cartoon character: .Carmen Sandiego
Interests

Comments


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:iconersatzinspiration:
ErsatzInspiration Featured By Owner Aug 29, 2010
hi. thanks for the fave... i miss you and i love you and i start classes on wednesday and even though i'm the antisocial one on my floor i'm making a lot of friends and it's not all weird and annoying because the RAs have stopped trying to make us bond.

rant.
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:iconrebeltango:
RebelTango Featured By Owner Aug 29, 2010
<3 iloveyou
Reply
:iconlovealwaysbeee:
lovealwaysbeee Featured By Owner Jun 26, 2010   Photographer
Thanks for the favorite!!! I miss you so much! How's your summer going!?
Reply
:iconrebeltango:
RebelTango Featured By Owner Jun 29, 2010
you're welcome!
i miss you tooo! it's superduper great. how's yours?
Reply
:iconlovealwaysbeee:
lovealwaysbeee Featured By Owner Jul 4, 2010   Photographer
:) it's okay so far! I guess you could say I'm just letting it take over, it's a great feeling :) are you excited to move away yet?
Reply
:iconrebeltango:
RebelTango Featured By Owner Jul 4, 2010
that's great.
if only i was. my parents sent in my tuition deposit late, and MassArt over enrolled. So I'm on a wait list, and it's not looking good. O.o
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconriku-of-the-darkness:
Riku-Of-The-Darkness Featured By Owner Apr 16, 2010  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the watch! ^_^
Reply
:iconteknicolourkiss:
teknicolourkiss Featured By Owner Apr 10, 2010
Thank you for the favorite dear :hug:
Reply
:iconghoulardo:
Ghoulardo Featured By Owner Apr 1, 2010
What the fuck is this faggotry!?
Seriously, this is the kind of crap that makes me want to leave DA entirely.
Reply
:iconrebeltango:
RebelTango Featured By Owner Apr 1, 2010
it's april fool's day!
yours is fabulously gay though. i love it.
Reply
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