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About Literature / Hobbyist Member Rodiel25/Other/Hungary Recent Activity
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In the living room; Virgil in flannels, Linda in a tank top on the couch, conversing while eating a pizza.
"Remember what Dan said about me?" Virgil asks.
"The guy you worked for before you bought the place?"
"Yeah. He described me as..."
"...hardworking and antisocial, yes. There's some truth to that statement."
"Hah, I know. I haven't always been like that, though." He pauses for a moment, taking a bite of a pizza slice. "Want to visit an old friend with me this weekend?"
"Sure. Where does he live?"
"Up in Virginia. Just a few hours' drive. But live is not the right word, I'm afraid."
"I told him my secret on his death bed in '65 before I tucked my tail in and sailed away. He was one of the few I could say goodbye to. Some I never saw again, many of whom had long and full lives." Virgil's face assumes a distant look, then he shrugs. "All he said was that it doesn't matter anymore. Maybe he meant that I should've told earlier."
"I understand why you didn't. I mean, this is one of the weirdest things that can happen. It was hard to believe you even after what you've shown me."
"Unbelievable, yes, but there's more. Can you imagine having seen so much death suspecting - dreading - that you'll be the sole survivor at the end of the world, with nothing but memories to keep you company?"
"That's why it's hard for you to let people close. Why make an exception with me, though?"
"I suppose there has to be an exception. Unless you don't want to wait until the end of the world to be left alone."


Driving through the countryside in Virgil's battered SUV. Mellow classical music is streaming from the CD player. Linda plays with her hair in the shotgun seat.
"How is the course going?"
"Pretty nicely. Madeline did come - even brought a girlfriend. Some struggle, but one of the girls is a natural. She's got that gleam in her eye... like a warrior."
"Carol, right? Short blonde hair, scarred arms?"
"Yeah, that one."
"She's been through a lot in life. May have joined for the wrong reasons..."
"Wrong reasons?"
"Maybe she wants to kill people."
Virgil frowns. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
"Well, it is..."
"Don't forget that I've spent about half my life making a living of killing people, and sometimes did it for free as well. If I didn't, Michelle would be dead now - or worse. And she ain't the only one, either."
Linda falls silent, mulling the matter over in her head as the car rolls on.

Eventually they arrive at the wrought-iron gate of an old cemetery. Virgil knows his way through the maze of identical, off-white columns of stone and dark, gnarled evergreens. He strides purposefully across the terain and after about twenty minutes, he stops at a headstone that reads Jonah Warren Ehlers 1828-1865. Then he produces a bottle of Jack Daniels from his bag and opens it.
"Every year on this day, we met to have a good drink and catch up on each other. While I was traveling, the thought kept returning to me. Now I'm here again," he says, addressing his words half to Linda, half to the dead man. He raises the bottle to toast hislong gone friend.
"Here's to you, Joe. It's been a while." Virgil drinks, then pours some of the brew on the ground in front of the gravestone. "Still enough left for you, my dear," he then hands the bottle to Linda.
"Thanks." She takes the offer and sits down cross-legged in the grass. "Tell me more about your time together?"
The man sits beside her and gathers his memories.

Gloomy winter morning, out in the field. A heavy-set, bearded man looks hopelessly at his toes peeking out of a pair of worn and torn boots, and shivers. Virgil sees him and turns to run away. Moments later he returns holding another pair of boots in much better condition.
"Here, take these. I planned to take them home but you need them more than I do," he tells the unfortunate soldier.
"I see you still have yours on, and they aren't new either. Where have these sprung from?"
"A dead Union bastard."
"Well done! I'm Jonah Ehlers. Everyone calls me Joe." With these words, the man accepts the boots and offers his hand. Virgil shakes it.
"Virgil Turner, 1st North Carolina."

"This is how we met, after Camp Allegheny. He had a wonderful singing voice."
"Just like you."
"Oh, shush. You should've heard him. In a different time, he could've been like a Johnny Cash and all those other new ones."
Linda chuckles.
"What is it?"
"You are the only person who would call Johnny Cash a 'new one'."
Virgil joins in her laughter and takes a swig from the bottle again.
"But seriously," the woman pushes on, perhaps emboldened by liquor, "sing something."
"Right now? Here?"
"Pretty please?"
"Alright. Just for you..." Virgil looks at the gravestone. "And for you." Then he starts to sing.
"We leave our pleasant homesteads, we leave our smiling farms..."

Mortal Sins - Scene 5
The rest of the lyrics (yep, sleuthed it) :…
It's time to realize that heroic deeds are not tragedies. That bravery is not cruelty. That commitment is not fanaticism. The days of lip service are coming to an end, as more and more young people wake up to their true potential and take up arms to reach it. Dictatorships thrive on fear, but when you fully understand that fear is merely an addiction to convenience, you will no longer be subject to any dictator, including collective entities that play such a role. Pure democracy, the rule of the lowest common denominator, is a dictatorship that oppresses most harshly those, who possess cognitive abilities and aspirations exceeding those of the common man. It is these people who drive human knowledge and virtue forward, so their subjugation and/or eradication will inevitably lead to a stagnant society bound for extinction. Majority rule is thus a comfortable route towards complete futility. However, some have already recognized this and have fought back - with words and weapons. Their words and deeds now live in our collective memory, and we can choose to condemn them and join the ranks of the obsolete - or to follow them and ascend. "Innocence" has no relevance. These aren't "senseless" acts, but a very conscious movement, a resounding response to centuries of stifling shackles upon human creativity. Those who claim to have the resolve to fight tyranny and with their next word condemn these deeds as "evil" are the most deluded of all. They try to cling to the idea of nonviolence and "sanity" to gain sympathy from what's generally referred to as the left - and they fail even that, because said "left" already believes they are all potentially one of us. We shan't make the same mistake. When it comes to choosing allies, we shall not rely on those whose expertise in violence is meant to PROTECT the very thing we are against: parasitic life and the fabric of society that sustains it. They have misunderstood their role in the historical drama, and will be regarded as the collaborators they are. However, if they - or anyone else - sees what it's really about, and will genuinely aid or join us, we shall welcome them and leave the past in the past. We have been judged for long enough to know better and not judge people for things they have no control over. Those who are intelligent enough to understand our goals have all the necessary judgement for themselves, and the rest...well, they wouldn't be able to comprehend why we judge them anyway.
Crop circles by librarian-of-hell
Crop circles
Third blood painting. Hoax or not, some of the alleged alien patterns are quite beautiful.
The spermatozoon said... by librarian-of-hell
The spermatozoon said...
Second blood painting. It's interesting how blood distorts the paper...
The man on the cave wall by librarian-of-hell
The man on the cave wall
First blood painting randomness. I know I'm far from Taccardi, but even he had to start somewhere.

I loved you when you were unfaithful; what would I have done if you were true?
- Jean Racine

As long as there was
a chance to escape
everyone remained
in the prison.
The chance to escape
was a freedom that no one
wanted to lose. 
- Gösta Ågren

That was the kind of lie that I hoped never to have to tell again, the contempt I hoped never to have to show, about the things that really mattered to me. And in order not to have to do that, I would pretty well have to stay clear of the people I used to know. 
- A. Munro, from 'Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage' (Family furnishings)

I do my thing 
and you do your thing.
I am not in this world
to live up to your expectations.
And you are not in this world
to live up to mine.
You are you and I am I.
And if by chance
we find each other, it's beautiful,
If not, it can't be helped.
- Fritz Perls

  • Mood: Artistic
  • Listening to: my new kitty's purrs
  • Reading: The AK-47 by Chris McNab
  • Eating: breaded eggplants
  • Drinking: too high tolerance; i need to go thirsty again


Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Not exactly a hobbyist, but therapeutic writing wasn't an option. Self-doubting white girl with a tendency to obsess over stuff, which I take out on... formerly paper, nowadays my DA page.
As long as you don't attempt to "cheer me up" or get all religious on me, we'll get along well. Tell me what's your poison and I... won't exactly tell who you are, but pour you a round and tell a good story, 'kay?

Current Residence: Győrzámoly
deviantWEAR sizing preference: L
Favourite music: see :P
Favourite style of art: pretty much anything BUT anime
Operating System: Ubuntu
Skin of choice: white, nicely scarred
Favourite cartoon character: Hawkgirl, Martian Manhunter, Wolverine, Simon's Cat
Personal Quote: "Meow."

Journal History

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Skaramine Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
As always, thank you for the favorite and the kind words. :D
librarian-of-hell Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
i don´t do ˝kind˝. If something´s awesome, it´s awesome ;)
Skaramine Featured By Owner Oct 15, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
librarian-of-hell Featured By Owner Oct 15, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Dingbatt20 Featured By Owner Oct 1, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the fave!
librarian-of-hell Featured By Owner Oct 1, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
thanks for the good work :)
Skaramine Featured By Owner Sep 28, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Grazi my chaotic good friend!
librarian-of-hell Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
you might like this:…

fake but enjoyable with a little suspension of disbelief, plus it had nice female bodies.
Skaramine Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks! :D
librarian-of-hell Featured By Owner Sep 28, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
De nada. ˝Can´t give anything but that which is my nature.˝ (Tragedy of Man, Imre Madách - my quick translation)
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