wildoats

obliterating hackers since 2022

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Kiss Attack by wildoats, literature

Literature

Kiss Attack

Before I moved in with Caroline, I lived with my parents in the Outer Sunset, a deceptively affluent neighborhood which existed like an afterthought on the outskirts of the city. We were Irish and young in an implied swarm of elderly Asian families, and to a lesser extent hardcore surfers, the latter a ghost presence that stuck mostly to the beaches but inhabited the local pizzeria at night. Our house sported a midlevel balcony between its two stories, and me and my friends sat outside and drank beer my parents bought for us, beginning in the late afternoon and continuing into the evening, but because you had to be limber and agile to hop t

The Human Hand by wildoats, literature

Literature

The Human Hand

Imagine a human hand. You don't have to imagine it. It's there, barring deformity, somewhere along the length of your arm, maybe even at the end. It can caress and choke and flex like a five-winged butterfly. Imagine, though, a hand detached, reframed in noteworthy context. This hand shakes itself like an Escher drawing, skittering listlessly across the street, like tumbleweed. That one nestles its wrist under your chin, flipping up to stifle a yawn or yank your lower lip when you move in to kiss a pretty girl (bad hand!). This one, spaced and spry, terminates in a bomb, palm veins smoothing out into the gloss of a deadly weapon, so k

Quaaludes by wildoats, literature

Literature

Quaaludes

It’s when you open your mouth to kiss me that I remember what I know about Quaaludes. The details are all knit up somewhere deep inside a ball of knowledge because I learned about them in fifth grade which seems a little too early in retrospect doesn’t it, and since then I’ve wrapped whole yards of other strands of knowledge around that ball and whenever I want to remember what I know about Quaaludes I have to unravel the whole thing just to get to it. But it’s there. One. They make you tired but it is kind of a verbose tired which sinks you into that three-quarters-down state, the cliff’s edge of sleep, but refus

Hipsters and Ghost Love v2 by wildoats, literature

Literature

Hipsters and Ghost Love v2

Hipsters, Ghost Love, Transitory Spaces You imagined this scenario, this "not falling in love" thing, but it came to reality a little differently than you had planned. You’re home in Sacramento, a numb city laden with a familiar ennui, which insists upon you like a down comforter. There is a reason you left Sacramento: when you ask a passing pedestrian what there is to do for fun around here, they say, "there's a park downtown where you can take a tour of the trees." "Trees?" "Yeah. About 90 different varieties. It’s really enthralling." You scan their face for some physical tic which might indicate sarcasm, but you find not

hipsters and ghost love by wildoats, literature

Literature

hipsters and ghost love

hipsters, ghost love, transitory spaces you imagined this scenario, this "not falling in love" thing, but it came to reality a little differently than you had planned. you're home in sacramento, a numb city laden with a familiar ennui, which insists upon you like a down blanket. there is a reason you left sacramento: when you ask a passing pedestrian what there is to do for fun around here, they say, "there's a park downtown where you can take a tour of the trees." "trees?" "yeah. about 90 different varieties. it's really enthralling." you scan their face for some physical tic which might indicate sarcasm, but you find nothing. so wh

letters out the window 4 by wildoats, literature

Literature

letters out the window 4

Dear companion . . . Faster than slang – stranger than quicksand – it will strike you, once in the gut, again in the jaw . . . The plants in my kitchen will not grow. I have potted them in quality soil and I water them as instructed. And yet . . . I telephone my friend, the botanist, and he appears in my apartment, as if a wisp . . . the botanist runs his feathery fingers under the leaves. He presses the soil to test its dampness. Are you watering these? Yes, I water them . . . Do they receive sunlight? As much as the tags declare . . . He massages his chin in thought. You’ve tried chemicals, of course? he asks. Pla

letters out the window 3 by wildoats, literature

Literature

letters out the window 3

Dear window, All these years and so much magic between your teeth . . . so many letters and you never failed a delivery. I ought to kiss your face for this . . . But oftentimes I worry for your health. You must get lonely – always facilitating some other being’s happiness . . . yes, I understand what it is to be an echo . . . And though I admire your morals, I wish you’d steal a letter or two . . . I do wish you’d keep a little bit of it yourself. A window can’t just be and be and be a window, all the time. You ought to let yourself into some other world besides your own . . . it keeps the madness out . . . I

letters out the window 2 by wildoats, literature

Literature

letters out the window 2

Dear stranger . . . A man with a torch – that’s you – comes into my house and says, I'm here, I ought to burn your house down . . . But will you let me collect my hospitalities, and present them to you, all lined up in a row? There are so many! First, I ought to offer you a drink . . . then I ought to ask you to sit . . . then I ought to ask about the wife and kids . . . But you say, it’s best if I don’t stay long – I ought to just torch your house and be on my way – I don’t want the mind to demand other things from me . . . Start here, I say, gesturing towards the bedroom. It seems most flammabl

letters out the window 1 by wildoats, literature

Literature

letters out the window 1

Dear neighbor . . . I have witnessed you gaze petulantly out your kitchen window and into mine, under the pretense of washing your dinner dishes . . . this is an act, you see, as we are both aware you consume your meals straight from the floor, as a wild barbarian . . . You stare at the letters piled against my house, crawling up the side wall like ivy – you are aware of my only hobby, passing slips of magic across my sill to float away in the world – you are jealous these letters are not for you . . . I am keen to your affair with several medicines; those which treat depression, and high cholesterol, and erectile dysfunction, while your w

Five Versions of Sadness by wildoats, literature

Literature

Five Versions of Sadness

One There are two types of murderers. The simple murderer knifes his ex-girlfriend roughly two to five days after the break-up. The complex murderer leaves a mark. Perhaps they murder only between the hours of 10-11pm, within a one-mile radius of a church, and only on Sundays. This leaves the police maddeningly close. They guard the nearby park, the local school. They set up checkpoints at every third street corner and rotate at random, avoiding patterns. A quarter of their force is undercover. And yet the complex murderer takes two polaroids: one with the victim alive, with vigilant police in the background (labeled 10:22); another with the

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Kiss Attack by wildoats, literature

Literature

Kiss Attack

The Human Hand by wildoats, literature

Literature

The Human Hand

Quaaludes by wildoats, literature

Literature

Quaaludes

Hipsters and Ghost Love v2 by wildoats, literature

Literature

Hipsters and Ghost Love v2

hipsters and ghost love by wildoats, literature

Literature

hipsters and ghost love

letters out the window 4 by wildoats, literature

Literature

letters out the window 4

letters out the window 3 by wildoats, literature

Literature

letters out the window 3

letters out the window 2 by wildoats, literature

Literature

letters out the window 2

letters out the window 1 by wildoats, literature

Literature

letters out the window 1

Five Versions of Sadness by wildoats, literature

Literature

Five Versions of Sadness

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About wildoats

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Artist // Professional // Literature

United States
Deviant for 20 years

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professional dude

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idk but my least favorite show is naruto

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wildoats

Aug 31, 2022

hackers eradicated

1 min read

OG wildoats reinstated. carry on!

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wildoats

Jul 27, 2012

abandoned story #1

0 min read

~2008/09 When I woke up I felt something stuck to my forehead, curling with the help of perspiration.  I pulled it off.  It was a post-it note: "If you could leave when you wake up that would be great.  I don't want this to be awkward.  Love" and then an arrow which I think was supposed to point toward his side of the bed, but faced the wrong direction.  Actually, when I looked up, he wasn't anywhere.  The room seemed impeccably clean, no clothes anywhere on the floor, not even mine.  Maybe I had kicked them off behind a bookcase, or something, or maybe he had kept them.  It was like he had cleaned the place and then left for the day,

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wildoats

Mar 28, 2011

Support earthquake relief efforts, get new music.

0 min read

I am incredibly proud to announce Electro Freaks Present Vol.3, a 36-song compilation arranged to raise money for earthquake relief efforts in Japan. http://www.electrofreakspresent.com/ Simply donate to the cause (we provide links to Red Cross, but donate however you see fit), visit the above website and tell us how much you contributed. In return, you get well over two hours of artists rocking their sequencers and circuit boards in a whole grip of wizardly ways. (For the record, I'm track #10.) Thanks for the support.