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Contest! Draw Sophie and get a MH Drawing!What is this contest about?:
Draw my doll Sophie
you can draw her chibi, realistic or in your own style, but her face must be always visible and you must draw her joints. She is a doll, I wouldn't like her to look like she wasn't. This means you MUST draw her joints, but you can draw her with any expression, like if she was alive.
You can draw her with the clothes she has in the photos or even design your own clothes for her, so you have total freedom about it.
how many drawings can I do for this contest?:
As many as you want without limit, as long as they are 100% original and finished (full colored). No work in progress, no drawings in striped paper.
Traditional or digital?:
Both are accepted
Please, be original:
Don't steal other people's drawings, don't use bases, and please, don't just copy a photo T_T
You may use a photo as a reference, but don't traze it.
If you do, you will be kicked out from the co
Monday Morning (I Know)It was mentioned casually
at the breakfast table:
“A boy from school
committed suicide last night.
Did you know him?”
I know the way
the night sky wrapped itself
around his shoulders
and ripped itself away,
and how to him, light-years
were a measure of time
and not of distance.
I know that darkness
was darker for him,
and that light was
always too bright.
I know that smiling was painful
in all seventeen muscles,
and that it was a relief
I know that he carried
the depression on his shoulders,
and that he spent half the day
hiding it away from everyone,
and the other half
wishing somebody would notice.
I know that he was the best actor,
and that everyone believed
that his eyes sparkled from happiness
and not from tears.
I know that he was so good,
he never had to lie and say
“I’m fine,” because
nobody ever asked.
I also know that today, the halls
will echo with silence
and the occasional small cry,
courtesy of the people
who never really knew hi
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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