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About Deviant Artist Anthony GrimmMale/United States Recent Activity
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Literature
Unfinished Garbage
Getting stuck on the side of the road sucks.  Getting stuck in the middle of nowhere really sucks.  But, getting stuck in the middle of nowhere right as a blizzard hits is just fate kicking you while you're down.  In retrospect, it wasn't the best idea to drive my cheap, old, beaten down Honda cross country, but I didn't have much choice.
I'd recently gotten wind of a series of murders up north that just screamed, "HEY!  There are monsters here."  Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not a hero.  I don't go around fighting off the dark and defeating the forces of evil.  I'm just curious.  Besides, I doubt I could even do anything to stop this.  It's too far out of my league.
I grew up in the "real" world.  Monsters were just scary stories and everything could be neatly explained by science.  It was a nice life, but I was just hiding under the covers.  I was "safe" from the mo
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Literature
The Room
     Cr-r-r-r-r-r-rack! The silence of the room was shattered in one violent second. Gears jumped to life and began lacing together and wrenching apart after their extended rest. The years of rust were ground of with each consecutive turn, coating everything in a dull orange dust. It was only after several dragging minutes of painful scraping that the metal was finally worn smooth and the harsh scratching was replaced by a long series of low and rapid clicks. The noise began to fill the room in a drone while each gear spun on; connected in a constantly moving scheme, but left to toil alone in silence save for the ever-present noise of their own mindless machinations.
     A sharp snap signaled the end of the clicking and the gears stopped to rest in silence once more. Instead of silence, there came a deep and rumbling note that raced up the tube attached to the machine. It exploded from the bell with the force of a cannon ball and was f
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Cryptic Hungers :iconanthonygrimm:AnthonyGrimm 0 0

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AnthonyGrimm
Anthony Grimm
Artist
United States
Why, hello there.

It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Anthony Grimm; Writing Extraordinaire! My name is not truly Anthony Grimm, however I find it a suitable pseudonym. I can not promise I will update this regularly and I CAN promise a good deal of you will not enjoy my writing. I am not here to please, nor am I here to (solely) entertain. I have created this page in an effort to motivate myself towards writing a few more publishable pieces. I appreciate criticism. Please, inform me of my errors and help me improve.

Warm regards,
Anthony
Interests
I realize, of course, that very few people have any interest in my writing and even less in my journal.  As such, this is mostly for posterity's sake and to hopefully act as my motivation to continue writing.

I could say that I don't have time.
Wrong.  I have more time than I should ever have need of.  I simply waste it.

I could say that my workload has dramatically increased.
Untrue.  I am currently unemployed and my workload at school has significantly decreased with the end of my Senior year.

I could say that college is taking my time and attention.
Sadly, my classes have started, but I have yet to receive any form of meaningful work.

I could say that my mental state is quickly deteriorating and leaving me a quivering mass of depression.
Frankly, I hate to say that I am depressed.  I am, though and I hate it.  I have a disturbing ability to be painfully self-critical.  So much so, that I often blame myself for everything that goes wrong.  I am constantly upsetting everyone around me and I will never live up to my own expectations of a decent human being.  My family and friends try to tell me that I am not, but I know the truth.  I am a monster.  I am a disgusting, selfish, perverse, twisted, amoral, ungodly monster.  There is no point in continuing this pathetic exercise in failure; repeatedly telling myself to write and never succeeding in convincing myself.

So, why am I here?
I can not just stop.  I need this.  I need something to keep me from going over the edge.  In less than a month, I will lose my love and only see her again in four years.  I do not know what I am doing with my life.  I do not know who I am.  I do not know what I am doing...

I am a writer, that's what I am.
I will write.

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