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About Literature / Hobbyist Telman Papikyan24/Male/Armenia Group :iconthink-abstract: Think-abstract
A high-level thought process!
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I am an overwhelming urge to flow into something. To become something bigger, something more, something exalted, something eternal. I need to flow into something. Unspoken truths burning my throat I am flowing into my own abyss. My abyss is flowing into me. All the walls have been broken. I have broken all the walls. I don't know where to land my fist. 
Still, I will not battle against my abyss. I shall let it in. Like an immense wave in a raging sea my void is, again, coming out of my depths to crush me against the rocks I've raised behind. There's no turning back, there's no avoidance. The choice was made long ago. I now stand tall and face the familiar waters.
Through the ocean I shall swim, through the rocks I shall break.
Anything. I can handle. 
We all will perish. I long to perish. What is worth being perished by?
I see the waves.
I can handle this. I can handle this. I can handle this. I can handle this. I can handle this. I can handle this.
:iconvainamoinenian:Vainamoinenian 7 5
Them Too
           ...for we are a part of all unrequited,
     for we are the night of all expectations...
                                                          Yuri Shevchuk 
He is in a rush. The heels of his shoes are clicking on the porcelain tiles, echoing through the hall and blending with the vibrations of the violin playing softly in the background. His vision is messy, breath - heavy. He stumbles on the waiter, angrily pushes him off with one movement of his arm and heads towards the main doors. There's a steady stream of newly arriving guests entering the big hall, and he, like a massive Soviet icebreaker ship, plunges into them, cracking the human flow. Some step aside under the fear of being run over by a nearly 2 metre giant, those who don't, end up flying to the left or right
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The Skies Are Dying
The skies are bleeding.
I never noticed it, until they painted the horizon purple, vein-like blue. Somebody, somehow, must've ripped the sky's stomach open and now it's bleeding... to death. The skies are dying - slowly, confidently, elegantly evaporating into nothingness, into the void. The Heaven, the angels and God himself are melting and deliberately pouring unto our mortality, seeking absolution for their immortality... I have forgiven them long ago, the day I lost my faith
Now I can't seem to forgive them their mortality... 
The skies are dying. Their blood is dripping from the trees, from the rooftops, gathering in small ponds on the pavement. They say it rains when angels are crying, but I say it rains when the skies are wounded, bleeding. Death is in the air. I can hear their screams tearing apart the monotonous drumming on my window. The skies are dying, and there is nothing much we can do; It's been raining for days, weeks
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Mr. Telman by Vainamoinenian Mr. Telman :iconvainamoinenian:Vainamoinenian 1 3 my ID by Vainamoinenian my ID :iconvainamoinenian:Vainamoinenian 1 0
In The End
the waves of wind caress 
the blades of grass that gently dance
in the rhythm of earth's heartbeat
as a flock of clouds slowly passes
upon the golden fields bordering with
the green pastures and valleys where
the distinction between time and space 
dissolves into the moment of static beauty
where life stops to take a full breath 
of this divine revelation
of infinity's manifestation
entwined in the mystical aura of eternity
hanging above this place.
i. a bird in skies sings its song;
the tune dissolves, blends with the blue
then remains in the air - repeating 

ii. a tree melts under the sun;
its branches stand still, its leaves are dripping
its dance is silent; it stands -

in static 

iii. a leaf stops above the ground;
a gentle breeze plays with its feathers
until eternity spreads its atoms 
into dust

:iconvainamoinenian:Vainamoinenian 9 4
Lights Out
Lights are fading in and out. Camera flashes are burning his blurred sight, as the noise of the cheering crowd diminishes into a buzzing in his ears over which a static, dull squeak is persistently muting every sound around him. His heartbeats are pumping in his temples and it feels as if his blood vessels are about to rip the skull into pieces. The heavy breath barely makes it out of his lungs and equally heavily gets back into his body. Blood mixed with sweat slowly rolls down from a cut on his eyebrow, dipping his right eye in that red creek before slowly dropping on his chest.Through his dizzy vision he can barely make out his location in space and if not for the chair, he would be definitely lying on his face now.
Suddenly somebody from behind puts a sponge with ice cold water on his head; the water rolls down his face and neck onto his back, making a shiver run over his weary muscles. This refreshes him and makes the dizziness fade away. He starts to distinguish the white mats be
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Four Truths About Love
In Fact, there is only one - it fucking hurts. And when it does, oh how it does... But for those of you who like to magnify the pain and purify themselves, overcome themselves, here's the 4th truth, the only one left. It's the only advice I have the right to give, even when I am not asked for it.

4. Leave when you are no longer wanted. No matter how good, how strong and how destined your relationships were or seemed to be, like it or not, they still can come to an end. And when the end has arrived, have the dignity to not stay in a place where you are not wanted. For then you are risking to ruin the most beautiful thing of those relationships the two of you are going to be left with - the memories. Do not linger on. Do not burden her life. Do not obligate her, even with your best intentions. When the love is gone, whatever you do is most likely to be misinterpreted, and your image of a descent man who loved her with a pure heart will be replace
:iconvainamoinenian:Vainamoinenian 1 4
The Wall
I am the flame that burns high in the eternity of time.
I am the weight under which we all will break.
I am the wind that shatters the hopes of the forsaken.
I am the rain that washes away the memories of the forgotten.
I am the face of the unseen and the voice of the unheard.
I am the hate that breeds in the hearts of men
I am the faith that pushes you off the cliff and into the void.
I am the fear that overcomes your mind and entraps your destiny.
I am the night that crawls through your mind and makes a home there.
I am the weakness that flows through your veins and feeds on your comfort.
I am the contempt that lives in your heart. I am the disgust that spreads in my throat.
I am the Stone on the Path that is you.
I am the Snake of your heavenly Garden.
I am the Fire that devours every single tree of your Forest.
I am the Waterfall in the flow of your River.
I am the Storm that collapses the tranquility of your Oc
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It's broken.                                                             Like the vows We've sworn and pledged to each other, Our destinies are entwined together in a dance of mystery.
Its pieces fell.                                                           Like the leaves of a blossoming tree, Our spirits burned and bloomed with passion, painting everything around red.
Its masks shattered.                                                         Like our hearts, the sun was burning eternally upon our lives and it seemed that for Us no night ever existed.
:iconvainamoinenian:Vainamoinenian 19 16
  Never in my life should I have compared you with a wall by which I kept breaking over and over again. You've never been a wall and that's why I kept failing time after time, trying to climb a wall that doesn't stand, trying to break a wall that isn't even built. I was wrong; You were nothing other than a Path. A beautiful path through a blooming garden in spring, walking along which is a privilege I would give my life for; to feel You curl beneath me and guide my way through the wonders of that garden, that cradle of life. ...But No, You are not even a path, You are The Garden itself -flawless, light, filled with life. To lie in your embrace and fall asleep in your shade till the sands of time melt into dust, and there is no more time, only eternity... You are a heavenly piece of tranquility in an endless, evergreen forest. And No, you are not even The Garden blooming with spring and life, You are the whole Forest. The infinite, abund
:iconvainamoinenian:Vainamoinenian 2 3
Losing Us
I have always wondered what impulses and thoughts guided Your beautiful mind.
Was it mere revenge, or You really never saw the big picture?
Sometimes I had the feeling it was nothing more than pure delight;
Delight of pushing me off a cliff and watching me dissolve into the ground again and again,
With a sad smile, wiping a lonely tear off Your eye.
Now Losing You has always been the thing I was the best at.
And after every loss, I seemed to get better and better at losing You more perfectly and more painfully.
And after finding each other again and again, every single time we found different persons in familiar bodies.
And after every reunion, we managed to find new and yet even more perfect ways for those persons to lose each other again.
And after every loss, I crumbled. Then rebuilt myself anew, every time - a little better.
And after every rebirth, I would look for You yet again, for I knew that You were, too, looking for me.
And after every search, we would find each othe
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Mature content
Constant :iconvainamoinenian:Vainamoinenian 1 0
The One
The One true feeling of nonsense still persisting inside my body like a hollow hum of a cracked bell ringing from the tower of my broken church.
The One true One yet to be found again, and yet again to be loved no matter what the cost might be and for whatever it takes I still cannot accept that the sound of the departure of Their's still echoes in my ruins after so many years.
The One true depth of what to perceive when nothing seems to guide my way, when all that's lost yearns to be found, when all that's found screams "I'm not yours".
The One true sense of what is wrong and the abyss of what is right in which to drown till the end of times, longing for that only One, that little hint to hang unto.
:iconvainamoinenian:Vainamoinenian 2 0
What Is Left
A song. Not a popular one, no, and neither an underground, for a small circle of appreciators' song. Just a song. A song probably only a few people on earth have heard, just like millions of others composed by regular people in the whole world. A song about nothing and at the same time about anything you want. A song that has no words but speaks to you in its own way. Not money, not houses, not paintings, not even writings, but just a song out of it all. Of course people will remember them all; some - the money, some - the houses and the paintings there, some - the poems and the stories. But it is not the money that is his biggest treasure, nor are the houses and all the wealth they keep within, neither the old fashioned poems and certainly not the short stories he wrote during long sleepless nights. 
A song. A song he came with one long summer day, unaware of what he was creating. If he knew that it would be the last thing he ever composed he probably would have paid more attenti
:iconvainamoinenian:Vainamoinenian 7 20
  In absolute chaos of noise and light signs of complete indifference appeared. The rhythmical movements with the beat of the sounds ceased, and in stillness The Body stood amidst the whirlwind of bones and flesh jumping up and down, lit by random colours mysteriously falling from the ceiling. Animated objects collided with It several times then moved away the same way they came, but The Body wouldn't budge; after the contact it returned to Its static state of equity, standing silently in the entropy of other bodies swinging and jerking in the cacophony of sounds and lights. Through the cloud of smoke, The Eyes, all red and weary, kept following a Figure, embraced by another body. Closely entwined together, the hands of that other body moved all over The Figure, caressing it every way they could, and The Figure moved in the rhythm of the noise, in every way showing that it liked that. 
  At a certain point The Eyes felt it was too much and closed. While They were shut, t
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Nostalgia by stefangrosjean
Mature content
Nostalgia :iconstefangrosjean:stefangrosjean 1,412 24
Brendan Oil portrait by StefanRess Brendan Oil portrait :iconstefanress:StefanRess 25 2 The Great Lakes by FabledCreative The Great Lakes :iconfabledcreative:FabledCreative 158 18 Vertical Horizon #95 by romainjl Vertical Horizon #95 :iconromainjl:romainjl 352 16 W-out 0071 ' Portello ' by W-out W-out 0071 ' Portello ' :iconw-out:W-out 59 10 W-out 0488 ' Squatting Nemo ' by W-out W-out 0488 ' Squatting Nemo ' :iconw-out:W-out 46 7 golden gate bridge by somebody3121 golden gate bridge :iconsomebody3121:somebody3121 247 20 Flour 4 by Sablezubov
Mature content
Flour 4 :iconsablezubov:Sablezubov 6 0
New York: Apocalypse, Please. by inbrainstorm New York: Apocalypse, Please. :iconinbrainstorm:inbrainstorm 389 73 Ahoi by dasTOK Ahoi :icondastok:dasTOK 182 4 Control by Matthias-Haker Control :iconmatthias-haker:Matthias-Haker 463 29 W-out 0367   ' titan roar ' by W-out W-out 0367 ' titan roar ' :iconw-out:W-out 43 3 W-out 0370   ' Skuld Moira ' by W-out W-out 0370 ' Skuld Moira ' :iconw-out:W-out 26 8 Sheets Of Mist by JoniNiemela Sheets Of Mist :iconjoniniemela:JoniNiemela 269 9
Bitlets 380
Skydiving isn't
vertical horizontal.
Skydiving is
horizontal, horizontal, horizontal
:iconnichrysalis:Nichrysalis 4 0
Bitlets 376
Remind me to remember to forget that.
:iconnichrysalis:Nichrysalis 7 0



Brooklyn Bridge by takmaj Brooklyn Bridge :icontakmaj:takmaj 6,725 764


Ever felt that disgusting feeling that the music you have right now, and possibly all the music that is out there is no longer providing you with the joy and relief you expect it to provide you with? I never did. Until this morning. It's heartbreaking. Reminds me that I am extremely dissatisfied with myself, looking forward for Mozart's Requiem this evening


Telman Papikyan
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
I'm Telman. Feel free to skim through my gallery and maybe you'll even find something to your liking in that "island of depression amidst the sea of literature" Find me on facebook if you want an authograph B) which of course you don't but still... :D…

If you want to talk or ask some questions like why am I a cup, feel free to do so... although I don't guarantee a serious answer...

Journal History


:iconversatis: :iconannieyoann: :iconmaxnort: :iconsomethingoncesacred: :iconthewerewolfpuppy: :iconalineva: :iconyelnatz: :iconscfrankles: :iconelrray: :iconnuhverah: :iconsenex-de-umbris: :iconfrenchskinhead: :icondramira-official: :iconsose6: :iconmydeviart:



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W-out Featured By Owner Nov 11, 2014   General Artist
thank you and merci
Vainamoinenian Featured By Owner Nov 11, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the beautiful art :)
days-be-strange Featured By Owner Oct 17, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Nice cover, I love The National. :) 
Vainamoinenian Featured By Owner Oct 17, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks a lot :) They are very good indeed, been stuck on them for a year and half now... :D
days-be-strange Featured By Owner Oct 17, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
So have I. Can't stop listening to Lemonworld and Sea of Love.
Vainamoinenian Featured By Owner Oct 17, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I'm more of a This is The Last time person :D haha anyways, since you like them I might as well advertise myself a bit :D… I started with Conversation 16, and there it went :D still have unfinished About today, with a post rock outro :D
(1 Reply)
skygazing Featured By Owner May 24, 2014

Happy birthday! :heart:
I hope you have a great one :love:
Vainamoinenian Featured By Owner May 25, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you dear :D :heart:
skygazing Featured By Owner May 26, 2014

Your welcome! :iconbackhug::heart:
How did your birthday go? :love:
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