PLEASE this feature and these wonderful works of art, thank you!

The amount of artistic talent here on dA has always amazed me, I feel like it should be a privilege to be able to feature such amazing pieces as these. Therefore, without further ado this Sunday's Specials

Literature

And a Monster Sat on MeEver since I was a child, I could see the monsters. They were everywhere: under the bed, in the closet, stalking down the hallway after dark. Being the terrified little child I was, I never, EVER talked to them. My friends told me they saw them too, but, as we grew older, they all lost their ability, and their knowledge, of them. As a young teenager, I kept hoping, praying, that the monsters would disappear from my view, that I would never have to see them again. Little did I know that it would be a monster who would become my best friend as an adult.
I was going about my daily routine; coffee, shower, off to work, come home, relax, go to sleep, wake up, and start all over again. By now, I had pointedly ignored the monsters, opting to pretend they weren't there. Usually, it worked, but now and again, a random monster would suddenly become clumsy and fall onto me. Most of the time, I was trapped under said monster for hours until it could get up, or one of its "buddies" would come and h          :thumb311806338:     

Mature Content

locked in limboi've come to realise that my life is made up of missed chances dressed as narrow misses; of many hellos without meaning and one too many goodbyes lost in emotion. i've found that i lie to myself, and cheat my own senses in some kind of insane attempt to make myself feel wanted, like there's still something there. some sort of unwritten prophecy waiting to be unveiled, hopelessly waiting for a torn up, moth-eaten letter to tell me what living really means.
i know i'm lost. i know that i'm at crossroads with mad hatters and winding arrows, entwining themselves like ivy on wordsmith's cottages, tumbling across single glazing and cross-hatched glass because they believe that existence should be viewed through a crosshair. i know i've been webbed and strung by my own hands, where i second guess life and coax my body into limbo when i know that i wont ever have the stamina to keep up.
maybe i was just stupid to assume that it'd carry on that way. that i could be frivolous without becoming in           Property Dualism, Epiphenomenalism, Brain and Mind“She does not understand, why? Is it the wine? No...what is it then? What is the reason? But soon it does not matter. Soon the why and the reason are gone, and all that matters is the feeling itself. And this is the nature of the universe; we struggle against it, we fight to deny it, but it is of course pretend, it is a lie. Beneath our poised appearance, the truth is we are completely out of control.  Causality. There is no escaping it. We are forever slaves to it. Our only hope, our only peace is to understand it, to understand the why. Why, is what separates us from them, you from me. Why, is the only real source of power, without it you are powerless”  - The Merovingian, Matrix Reloaded (2003)
1.1 - Clarification
In this essay I will give a very brief overview of the mind body problem, I will give an account of property dualism as a philosophical theory of mind elaborating on the doctrine of supervenience, a      Sunday DinnersEvery Sunday at dinnertime, Mother and Father and Brother and I sit down at the dining room and play house for an evening. We pass around the bowl of pasta salad while exchanging stories about our day, written on the scripts laid out for us.
Father plays a man named Dad, who specializes in doesn't. He doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, doesn't swear, doesn't steal. In fact, the only thing Dad does do is offer us second helpings.
Mother, ever the actress, plays Mom. She is always saysing. She says she likes my hair, says she likes Brother's new shoes, says she noticed Father got a new haircut. She says she loves us, and the one thing she does not say is that we need to fold the laundry.
Brother unwillingly plays Bro. Similar to Dad and his doesn'ting, Bro hasn't. He hasn't sworn, hasn't smoked, hasn't stolen. He has, however, volunteered to do the dishes afterwards.
And I play the role of Sis. My job is to don't. I don't put my elbows on the table, I don't interrupt, and

A ClicheI wish I could sing you a love song
about roses and stars and the rain
but I couldn't sing like the blackbird in spring
so I think I will simply refrain.
I wish I could tell you a story
about beauty and trust and my heart
but all I could say's what they say every day
So I don't even know where to start.
I wish I could write you a poem
'bout the birds and the bees and my bed
but all I would write's being said every night
So I wrote you a cliche instead.      the truth is thisin my last life,
I was a beggar girl;
weak, cold, and starving.
I thought I was missing something.
I thought I'd found a knight to save me;
that you'd be everything I needed to make me whole.
the truth is,
you were never the one doing the saving.
in my new life,
I am a queen;
strong, brave, and shining.
and no mere knight will do for me now.
now, I wait for my prince, my king, my equal.
the truth is,
I don't need to find my other half;
I'm not broken.

Traditional Art

                 

Mature Content

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Photography

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Also, for those who haven't read my last journal, I was recently selected to be DailyLitDeviations Saturday Spotlight feature- July 07, '12
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It's slowly starting to sink in, and this weekend has been one of the best so far and I have all you lovely friends to thank for it. So, thank you, with each and every heart string and heart beat I have left in me, know you guys are all so very dear to my ticker!