Fright

Don't be afraid.
Let your spirit free.
Move foward.
Reach to the sky.
Call to Quetzalcoatl.
Feel your skin glow white.
Rise into the grey storm.
Pass through the frosted cirri.
Enter Arausio and live.
Soar away into Sea.
Cross into the World.
Dive deep into Gaia.
Find Nyx.
Believe in yourself.
But don't give up love.
Oh God... please don't.

Heir of the New Moon

-I posted an earlier version of this before, but I found the updated edition so I deleted that post and posted this version. I'll call it v1.2 for the record.-



Brotherhood, the age old tale of
Trust, friendship, courage, and unity.
These simple things taken for granted
are named by those who know of that love.

Why is it then that two brothers
Overwhelmed with hatred could unite?
Was it their own will that they fought
With only death in their minds?

It was their tale to ease the minds of
Burdened families, to give them hope
That their children would follow
the footsteps of those described in,

The 11th Epitaph
Once said to be a fantasy, or
Rather, a final union of brothers.

In the Federation of Windurst
Was the home of a family.
Originating from Bastok, city of mines,
These Humes fled from the great war.

Tales of a great forbidden magick
That protected the city from beastmen.
A magick far greater than any known
One that harnesses the power of Gods.

Even the legendary Knights
of the Kingdom of San d’Oria,
Who are noble and courageous,
Would fall at this power.

The Hume family fled to Windurst
In hopes of receiving the protection
From the one who could call upon
The Gods themselves as his Avatars.

Karaha-Baruha, sacrificing his life,
Saved the Windurstians from their strife.
But the power of Gods was then restrained
The nature of Gods ascertained

And so the power was then sealed.
The Gods put to sleep for a time
Until awakened by the one
Who could control the God’s in Prime.

And so the family rested here
with Karaha-Baruha’s secret
Unaware their child would be
The one to awaken the sleeping Gods.
Foretold was his birth by Emila,
Fortune Teller of Mhaura,
A terrible fate that awaited him.
Only one katun he had to live.

Katun, the first born of these Humes.
His birth was praised, the only heir,
But 20 years he was doomed to live
And the family name was his alone.

Little hope was there for his life,
But still he tried to outlast this strife.
20 years was enough to find a way,
To lift the curse and change his name.

The family resented Katun’s name
And so trained Ars, the adopted
Brother, a Taru-Taru or Halfling
And was more praised for his subsisting.

And so Katun was left to die.
With only 1 year left to live
He had done nothing to his benefit
Or to his family’s approval.

One day, in the Optistery,
Katun read of Karaha-Baruha.
He wondered of the Gods
And their powers to protect.

And with that power, the city was saved.
If these Gods could save a city
Then perhaps they could save Katun
If he could make them his Avatars.

An item he did require,
Thought to be long lost
Was a mystical Ruby,
The Carbuncle’s Ruby,

The Bringer of Rainbows.

So Katun explained to his family
In hopes of gaining their help
And giving them a chance to love him
But they did not approve.

“That magic was forbidden
After Karaha-Baruha’s death.
You would bring shame to us all,
And to the Star Sybil herself!

If you join with his fate though,
We will not be saddened
For you are doomed to die
On your twentieth birthday

So your life has no meaning.
Go enjoy your play while you can
For it has a foreseeable end.
And not even the Gods can change
What fate they have planned.”

And so Katun prepared to embark
To begin a quest
That could save his life
Or hasten its end.

At Windurst’s Gate awaited Ars.
Katun’s brother not blood
His enemy at the heart.
The one was catalyst for the other.

“What are you doing?
You’ve no idea!
The troubles that await you outside,
There is no way to save your life.
20 years doomed will end short!
Save your last breath for us to enjoy.
Why give it to the wandering beasts?
Make use of yourself while you can
Try fishing for Carp, they sell well.”

Katun was stubborn as he replied,
“And leave the family name to one
As soft as you and watch from above
While your offspring crawl sickly
And grow into large maggots?
I will not stay still an idle.
The name is my burden alone.
Besides, I can save myself.
I seek an item outside these gates
That I will use to my benefit.
I will find it.”

“Then why not employ me?”
Ars replied as sly as he could,
“I’ve been all over this region
And know more than many do
how to collect rare artifacts.
Even one as weak as yourself
Could survive at my side.”

Katun’s rage grew inside him.
He left Ars behind without delay.
He would find the artifact without him,
The Carbuncle’s Ruby.

Outside the gates lay Sarutabaruta,
A vast grassland with few dangers
Yet one danger was enough
And Katun was not schooled in battle.

What little schooling he had
Was spent on the art of healing.
Though battle ready and determined,
He was only assistance in battle.

The party required a fighter.
Katun saw a lone soldier
Who, though still physically young,
Seemed a skilled Warrior.

Kreos, a Hume from Bastok,
Was brave and courageous. But
Tenaciously expressed a need to
Demonstrate his merits.

He accepted Katun’s invitation.

They traveled the grassland
While searching for the item
The rare Carbuncle’s Ruby.
A manifistation of an Avatar.

And so he and Kreos journeyed
Through the Tahrongi Canyon
Past skeletons and goblins
And the Maze of Shakhrami.

To Mhaura, where Katun’s fate
Was ultimately decided.
Of all the places to search
Here he was certain to find it.

Just outside the town, at the
Buburimu Peninsula beach,
They killed a possessed leech.
And within it lie the item.

Katun obtained the Carbuncle’s Ruby.

As he held the blood red ruby
A voice called out to him
Katun wondered if this was
An Avatar he held within the gem.

Kreos managed to fight their way
Through many possessed leeches
And hordes of Goblin Hunters
Until they reached Mhaura.

The port town of Mhaura
Was home to the trade ships
That passed between twin port towns.
Mhaura and Selbina.

Katun was reluctant to voyage
But Kreos was eager to go
To prove his strength and courage.
So they paid the fare and went.

The voyage was peaceful
Until Sea Monsters attacked!
All the passengers were killed
But Kreos and Katun fought on.

The Sea Horrors were too much
For even Kreos with Katun’s aid.
But before the final blow was struck,
Sadrith, the Black Mage, appeared.

Sadrith had a cat-like appearance,
As Mithran’s are often described.
Risk taking and gambles were her hobby.
Life was a game that she prescribed.

She could control the elements
And she was skilled in the dark magick.
With secret words and incantations
The elements began to collide.

Thunder echoed across the ship,
Fire burned within the Horrors,
And they were Stoned to death.
Katun and Kreos had been saved.

When they docked in Selbina
Sadrith joined the party,
And as she did, she heard the ruby.
Katun revealed it to her.

Then the voice came out
Not just as a call to Katun,
But as a command to them all.

“Take me to La Theine Plateau
And I shall awaken to bestow
Upon you our powers of many
You carrier of twenty.”

Katun was not afraid of this call.
He wanted to be one with them,
The Gods whose power could save
Katun’s life, deep inside the gem.

And so Keros and Sadrith
Joined along with Katun
And ventured across the sands
Of the scorching Valcrum Dunes.

The air was instense
The sand was hot
No water
So tired
Must
Stop

At an old Oasis they halted.
Katun was out of breath.
Sadrith needed hydration.
Kreos collapsed in a heap.

There was no water here.
The Palm Trees had been too greedy.
They could not continue onward.
Was this the end of the quest?

As Katun relinquished,
He saw two figures moving
Toward the broken bodies.
But who it was he couldn’t tell.

Katun fainted.

He awoke to find Ars beside him.
He quickly got red in the face.
Katun had been saved by his brother
And yet he showed no sign of thanks.

Katun suddenly noticed Ars
He was no longer a man
But dressed and clothed as a woman.
Kreos and Sadrith did not notice.

“Thank the kind woman!” they said,
“And thank her fiancee as well!”
Another appeared from behind Katun.
Now there were two Halfling Taru-Taru.

Fuma, the great pirate, was here.
He was obsessed with his Fiancee,
Doing anything she asked of him.
But did not know her true identity.

The brothers looked between each other.
Katun saw a gleam in Ars’ eye,
A plead to not be unveiled.
The tables had turned this time.

Katun was more powerful
A tattle he would be
But revenge he did desire.
Thoughts of Ars’ favoritism
From family blood not of his own
Because Katun was cursed
And his family had abandoned him.
It was Ars he hated most.
Ars was his enemy.
Katun was ready to speak against him.

But Ars then pulled him to one side
And quickly explained she was a spy.
While womanly appearance he did bear,
The benefits he gained were theirs to share!
Fuma was wealthy, as sky pirates are.
An Airship too could take them far!

And so Ars offered himself,
A master of Monster Abilities.
And Fuma the great pirate,
A legendary Corsair.

In exchange for Katun’s silence
They’re power Ars would lend
And help Katun on his quest
As far as the end.

Katun felt this was a good trade.
Ars’ hidden secret,
And Fuma’s pirate fortune,
Would be most useful in times of misfortune.

And so reluctantly Ars joined Katun.
The brother now a sister.
Siblings they remained to the others.
Rivals they were to each other.

Ars and Fuma had ventured from La Theine
And soon the party left the sandy wild
To the mountainous region
of the Elvaan sheep herders.

The La Theine Plateau was vast
And where to go was at once seen.
A beautiful rainbow arched high above.
And at one side was a circle of stone.

Katun brought the ruby to this place
And out of the Ruby came a great beast.
A myscial light filled their eyes
And Carbuncle himself did appear.

The God spoke to them, pleadingly
“Help me awaken the sleeping Gods.
A great shadow is ever drawing near
With their power we can resist
That ancient evil which was once sealed.
If you can control them all
Avatars they become, for you
And your wish they may grant
But twenty years is drawing near
And time is short for you to aquire
The Gods you so desire.
Travel to the Crystals in which they dwell
And prove yourself worthy of their power.
I will assist you,
But us alone shall go
To face the awakened beast.
The six seals of the Avatars
They are both near and far:
Ifrit of Fire, inside his cauldron,
Mount Yuhtunga.
Ramuh of Lightning, deep in Zi’Tah,
The Boyahda Tree.
Shiva of Ice, in a lost city,
Fey’Yin.
Garuda of Wind, at the worlds end,
Cape Teriggan.
Titan of Earth, beneath Altepa sand,
The Quicksand Caves.
Leviathan of Water, deep within
The Den of Rancor.
Travel to these places
And there you will find the sleeping Gods.
Call upon me during that time.”

And then Carbuncle vanished
Into the Crimson Ruby.
There was nothing more to be said.
The party began the arduous quest.

On Fuma’s airship they did fly
Travel was faster in the sky.
But was the ship’s speed enough
To get them there in time?

Mount Yuhtunga was deep in the jungle.
And Kreos’ bravery was tested.
Countless monsters he did slay
But never did they seem to stray.

They protected the Mount.
They knew the party’s goal.
But then Kreos provoked them all
And in hatred they forgot their role.

As the adventurers fled
into the volcanic abyss,
Kreos’ last cries could be heard
As he was devoured.

With Kreos’ sacrifice
They had reached the Crystal.
And Katun mourned.
But Ars consoled Katun.

Ars would not let him give up.
There was no time to waste.
There were only 6 months left
Before the prophecy was fulfilled.

Kreos’ death must not be in vain.
Katun approached the divine mass.
Ars was right, there was no time.
He must defeat the Ifrit Prime.

He grasped the crystal with both hands
And into the divine land his mind was.
Ifrit was awakened
And he challenged Katun.

Katun unveiled the rare Ruby
And Carbuncle defeated the beast.
Ifrit released himself from sleep
And gave himself to Katun.

And so Katun received his first Avatar.
Though Kreos had died
The party knew they must move on
The next trial awaited.

Deep in Zi’Tah was the ancient tree
Which housed the Cloister of the God.
The Boyahda Tree was where he dwelled
The God of Thunder awakened as well.

Ramuh of Thunder was also overcome.
Carbuncle’s light too strong for him.
He became Katun’s second Avatar.
And the party held together.

Shiva of Ice was hard to reach.
Fey’Yin had been lost for ages past.
Sadrith was one of few who knew the way

Using magick as a veil,
With Sadrith’s spell they would prevail.
A way to venture into the danger,
But along the road death was no stranger.

Too close to a beast, she tested her luck.
A great shadow knight
She probed into sight,
But did not wish to be struck.

The dark magick of Sadrith,
While she was invisible to most,
Was not strong enough to blind
The eyes of death’s great host.

It slayed her while was astray
As the party fled away.
Her cries of pain
Were quickly restained.

Now once five was three
And all three mourned her,
Ars inferred that Katun move on.
Katun agreed to Ars’ deduction.

And so with Ars’ help
Katun entered the crystal
And Carbuncle defeated Shiva Prime
Her powers she gave to Katun.

Garuda was fourth, and gave in with ease.
Seeing her fellow Gods with Katun
She eagerly agreed
And granted herself to him.

But the travel to Garuda
Took valued time
And now only two months remained
With two Primes still asleep.

Titan was deep in Altepa’s sands
Deep in Quicksand Caves was his Cloister.
His heart was hardened by a lost love
But Carbuncle eased Titan’s pain.

And with Titan Prime’s Avatar
Katun was one God away.
Though exhausted from travel
Ars kept Katun’s spirits high.

Fuma’s airship was built for speed
But with one month left
Time was short.
Katun’s breath was growing weak.

The curse was affecting his health
And the divine enounters were tough.
With one God left to face,
Katun began to disgrace.

They arrived and traveled down
Deep into the Den of Rancor.
And there was the final Crystal
Where the Leviathan awaited.

Katun was so ill he could hardly stand.
With Fuma’s and Ars’ help
Katun reached his hands out
And he entered the mystic realm.

Carbuncle confronted the Avatar.
Leviathan Prime would not give in.
The battle waged between them was great
And Carbuncle was almost lost.

But in the end Leviathan’s will broke.
He was turned and seeing the others
Katun had gathered, he too gave in.
The final Prime was attained.

And so the party rejoiced!
Katun stood in as if in a trance
While Ars did the Taru-Taru dance
And Fuma shot his rifle in joy.

Then Katun called Carbuncle to his side.
The task had been completed.
But to the party’s disgrace
This was not the case.

Carbuncle tried with all his might
But all six Avatars were not enough
To vanquish the curse from Katun.
In dispair, Katun fell to the ground

His efforts had been for nothing.
But Ars then stood up for Katun.
He challenged Carbuncle’s means.
Ars demanded another path!

“There must be another way
This cannot be the end.
I’ve read the ancient stories.
About how Karaha-Baruha
Defended the city from doom.
There is another God,
One you’ve overlooked.
Fenrir, God of the Moon,
The true power that saved our city.”

Of course Carbuncle knew
But he dared not challenge that beast.
The God of the Moon was too great a force
For even Karaha-Baruha.

But with eleven days left, they had no choice.
Carbuncle showed them the way
To Fenrir’s Moonlit Seal
Locked away deep under Windurst.

Down they traveled through ruins
And into Toraimarai Canal
Where at its end lay the seal
At the Full Moon Fountain.

This time they entered the seal together.
Fuma on his left and Ars at his right,
Katun fell through the seal
And began to face Fenrir Prime.

Katun held up the Ruby one last time.
Carbuncle appeared and began to call
Upon Katun’s six Avatars.

“Ifrit, Ramuh, Shiva!
Garuda, Titan, Leviathan!
Lend me your strength!
The final battle has come!
Make Fenrir break!”

Ars and Fuma joined the battle,
But their attacks were resisted.
Even Carbuncle, with the six Gods
Power imbued within him was no match.

Fuma used his rifle with skill.
Bullets burst through the air,
Though as magicked as the bullets were
None found their mark.

Katun watched as Fuma fell.
Fenrir unleashed his wrath upon them all.
With one howl, Fuma was killed
As he gazed into Ars’ eyes.

And Ars flintched.

“Katun, we need your help!
Carbuncle requires your strength to win!
If you are my brother
Then prove it to me now!
Even though you may die
You will always be my brother!
If not in blood, then in spirit!”

Katun realized then that
Even though Ars was his rival,
They shared something unique
That few could experience.

While Kreos lived for pride,
The need to prove strength
Not only to the world
But to himself.

And Sadrith for risk,
The urge to press onward
And elude death
Only to end in his loving arms.

And Fuma for love,
The ever conscious need
That while false on the shell
Was alive within the soul.

The unity of Brotherhood
Was Ars and Katun’s together.
Something true only to them
That no one could share.

Using the Astral Flow,
Katun then bonded with Carbuncle.
The connection between them was full
And God and Avatar were one.

Katun released Carbuncle’s restrains
Using his remaining strength
And a Searing Light tore at the Prime
As Carbuncle rose to his peak.

Fenrir was unable to withstand.
The power was too great.
And so the God of the Moon
Was finally broken.

He bowed before Katun,
Who fell to the ground.
The remaining life within
Was none but a small glimmer.

Fenrir granted Katun his power
And also his wish.
Life was restored to him,
And the curse had vanished.

Carbuncle returned to the Ruby,
And the 8 Avatars fell to sleep,
Where they would dwell
Until Katun called upon them again.

Ars and Katun then rejoiced.
They emerged from the adventure,
Instead of rivals,
Unifited Brothers.

With Katun’s life saved
From the 20 year curse
He could change his name.
But he did not,
For Katun’s name would serve
As a memory of this tale
So that he would never forget.

When they returned home to Windurst,
The family did not quarrel.
Katun was finally accepted
And the family anointed them both.
Both Katun and Ars would seed their name.

To Jeuno they traveled
They joined in the Starlight Festival.
Where all races and origins
From Bastok, San d’Oria, and Windurst
Celebrated the New Year
Honoring the dead
But always rejoicing
The living.

After the year turned,
The brothers together then ventured
Out to save the world
And in the end became
The most famous adventurers of them all.

At least to themselves.

“So, same time next weekend?”
“I’ve got to work all day.”
“I won’t be back til 5 Friday night.”
“Alright, I guess I’ll see you then.”

“{Good bye!}”

/shutdown

I...

I'll be here...

Why?

I'll be waiting... here...

For what?

I'll be waiting... for you... so...

If you come here...

You'll find me.

I promise.

Mirror rorriM

I see a mirror in front of me.
Everyone wants to look at it.
And they want me to look at it too.
It's one of those things about people.
They always want you to look at it.
But I don't always want to look.
Because they think that you'll see what they see.
When you look into the mirror.
And I just can't.
Because when I look into the mirror.
I don't see them.
I see me.
And I see more than they ever will.
And they'll see more than I ever will.
So staring into the mirror.
Is pointless.
Because why ponder the things you want to change.
When you can change them now.
But you can't always change those things.
Standing in front of a mirror.

'Kiss'

After a second... it came back to me... like waves on a beach. Slowly at first... then almost instantanious. Damn it felt terrible. I could feel the acid creeping up my throat, burning it lightly. I didn't want to think about it. My hand went to my head. It wasn't enough to block out those images. He continued to talk to me, but I was lost inside the memories... the memories of 'kiss'... I remembered how unemotional it was, how I didn't truely want to, how terrible it was to 'kiss'. I remembered how it was molestation, infestation, descrimination. I remember their face, her face, always the face. After everything had ended there was always 'kiss' and it never mattered what it was or when it ended. Never had I ever wanted to 'kiss'. No one ever deserved or should have me. I did not want to give that to them... it was my own need to become what was expected of me which made me give. In another way, I too had wanted to learn to enjoy 'kiss' as they had. Never did I succeed. In some dark, dank place in my mind I had locked 'kiss' away. Nothing was to touch it. 'Kiss' wasn't wrong, it just wasn't like I had wanted it to be. 'Kiss' to me was like losing some part of my virginity and not being satisfied with the results. It was in this dark, dank place I had returned to and was sitting in. Although 'kiss' was no longer here, I still could feel the terrible scars on the walls from the chains I had forced around it. In my other hand the voice on the phone could feel it. I turned over in my bed and rested my forehead upon my pillow. I didn't say much of anything. I asked for one thing, a song. Any song. And so he sang to me, but still I couldn't escape my mind. After he end his song... he reached into himself and showed me something that was so powerful and yet so frail. Part of himself opened to me and I was unable to speak to him. I felt like a tyrant. What I felt was how unable to show emotion I was. I don't cry often if at all, but today all I wanted was to show my emotion... and I couldn't even cry. I couldn't do it. Who would want a rock like this? He often asks how I put up with him... but how can he put up with me? How can he continuously open to something that can't even give him the same? I am afraid to feel, and yet that is what I do most. I feel it too. I feel it too. There are a few ways that I can show what I feel and only you are allowed to have them. Please, forgive me, because that is who I am. I am here. I am a rock. And you are allowed to hug the rock. Hugs are good. But I know something that is much better...

Katun

That was only the beginning...

Living Yesterday

And there they were. Small fragments of my past tied together loosely from the perspective of the girl behind the camera. Our lives were only gently woven together, but still I could see our design show. I saw L.T.'s bright, yellow wool. She was not afraid to be seen in the camera, even if she isn't often photographed. When she was, she would be dancing, posing, always smiling warmly. I saw Kent's vibrant, white and black threads twisted together. He was always attempting to lighten the mood around her... his girl friend. I saw Jill's fading, green silk hair. It was hanging loosely within the pattern, ready to be pulled out. With one pull it would be broken. I saw Dylan's desperate, red nylon. It was trying to force itself both in and out of the pattern, causing it to stretch and shudder with tension, but only a pair of scissors could break it. I saw D.J.'s plain, solid blue strings roped together. It's completeness influenced the colors around it and made itself stand out amongst the rest. And I also saw my piece of the pattern too... although describing it is beyond my capabilities. I'll leave that to the experts.

Words

I can't write exactly how I feel most of the time. Please forgive me. Sometimes, on rare occasions, I do write something righteous... but it is usually masked by the cryptic nature surrounding it. I'll practice writing what I feel more and maybe I can break my habits.

Selfish Embrace

On One of those dark days,
When we were selfless people,
I remember you had said to me,
All I want is this.

And I thought I knew why,
So I held you by my side,
And let your arms surround me,
Shaking and unsure of me.

But now at times like this,
It's hard to say I miss you,
'Cause I know that you'll be there,
It's time that can divide us.

So when I'll finally see you,
And we are back together,
Please don't make me hold back,
'Cause all I want is this.

All I want is this.

Peace Inside

I know you're sometimes frightened, don't be.
I know you're always fighting for what you believe,
But have some faith in me, there is no need
'Cause I will always be beside you.

So tell me…

Will you ever feel peace inside?
Will you some day feel complete?
Will you ever be at ease in life?
Or will you run eternally?

Why do I think I know what you need?
I guess I should be asking you; What do you need?
But give me time and I will learn. Oh Yeah.
And never again I'll think I know you.

So tell me…

Will you ever feel peace inside?
Will you some day feel complete?
Will you ever be at ease in life?
Or will you run eternally?

Well, I suppose I have a tendency to think I know it all.
But sometimes I shouldn’t assume anything,
I should simply ask I know that now.
Please forgive my ignorance

Now tell me…

Will you ever feel peace inside?
Will you some day feel complete?
Will you ever be at ease in life?
Or will you run eternally?

Will you ever feel peace inside?
Will you some day feel complete?
Will you ever be at ease in life?
Or will you run eternally?

Forgetting the Obvious

I can do this.
I will do this.
Just reach out and grab it by the reins.
Don't touch.
Possess.




A boy sitting at a computer.
A girl sitting at another.

The boy types to the girl,
While the girl types to the boy.

The girl knows what she wants,
and asks for it kindly.
The boy just doesn't want it,
and sets her down just to be sure.
For a while then she seemed insecure,
unsure of what wrong she had done.
For years the boy remained alone,
unable to hurt the other.
The girl remained by his side,
waiting for the seed she planted to grow.
The boy remained beside the pot,
refusing to water the thing.
As both stood by to watch the pot,
others came to court them feverishly.
One, a boy who could tap in,
and gain infinite knowledge,
yet he knew nothing,
because he never kept what he used,
he always wanted more.
Others, girls who were superficial,
One from a year behind,
Two from the first years,
Three from the local church,
All on Valentine's Day...
The boy knew something was wrong,
the friendship had begun to strech.
The girl gave up after 2 1/2 years,
settling for any knight on a black horse.
The boy saw this knight and knew the trouble,
but he watched sadly as they grew together,
and he sadly thought of what he had missed,
he thought of how he longed for togetherness,
the one other who could know him was with another.
Then there was jealousy,
Jealousy of longing to have togetherness.
But the girl was lost to another,
And the boy dare not disturb the peace around him.
So he stayed alone.

The friendship strained to the breaking point,
But when the girl pulled upon it,
The boy pulled back harder,
As if he had been waiting for it,
And it severed like a pathetic old man,
Homeless in the cold air,
Waiting for someone to help him,
Instead of seeking it himself.

For almost a year neither spoke to each other.
The boy refused to think about her.
Or at least he tried his damned hardest.
But when provoked by the thought of her illness,
by none other than the devil himself,
He began to wander back to the computer,
And when he walked to his computer,
She walked to hers.
And they began to type again.
How unfortunate she had fingers to do so.



I pull back from my mind,
And realize,
I've either missed the memory,
Or write too thoughtlessly.
I don't like my memory.
But someday, when I can't remember,
Who will be there to remind me of these things,
so I don't make the same mistake twice?
so I don't make the same mistake twice?so I don't make the same mistake twice?so I don't make the same mistake twice?so I don't make the same mistake twice?so I don't make the same mistake twice?so I don't make the same mistake twice?so I don't make the same mistake twice?so I don't make the same mistake twice?so I don't make the same mistake twice?so I don't make the same mistake twice?so I don't make the same mistake twice?so I don't make the same mistake twice?so I don't make the same mistake twice?

Isn't that what we're really afraid of?

Back to the Sea

My eyes ached so badly.
I wanted to cry.
My mouth shuddered slightly.
I wanted to say something.
My fingers felt cold.
I wanted to hold them.

As they began to break,
I reached out and pulled them close.
As they began to cry,
I held them against me.
As they began to apologize,
I refused to listen.

"Don't say anything."
Was all I could manage.

Don't think you are being selfish or selfless.
I tried so hard to put these to words,
But my inner walls rose like mountains,
and I became stiff as stone.
No tears fell from my cold eyes.

I remembered how I had felt this way,
How I did feel this way.

I couldn't speak of it.
I couldn't stand to think of it.
I couldn't bear to remember.

All I can do is feel those thoughts gently,
And watch the tide rise and fall,
Like heavy breathing,
But never breaching the rocks.

Because to breach the rocks,
That is something only God can do.

But that is why I admire them so much.
They are grasping these memories,
After all this time,
And washing them in the ocean tide,
Because they know what they feel,
Even if they don't realize it now.

I am watching them grow up,
I am watching them realize truth,
I am watching them live again.

I am alone on these shores,
Sitting on the sand.
Each grain a fragment of those rocks,
That are slowly wearing away,
Allowing the tide to slowly grow stronger,
As the New Moon approaches.

Will you be there,
On that darkest night,
When the wave consumes the rocks,
And washes my mind away,
So that I may be free again?

Free to be with who I choose,
Free to be with you.
Free to,
Choose,
You.

Reflection

A man wandering sadly in the desert,
His body dry and filthy,
The beak on his face broken,
Eyes like opals stare to the horizon,
Seeking the sunset across the river,
Where his ancestors rest,
And his reflection is transformed,
From that of a bird back into the form of a man.

Who am I?

I Want To Change the World ... edited

Keep on holding to your desire,
You will get a love that you can't reach alone,
I felt so worried when I spent all the time thinking of the future of us,
'Cause I know, there's nothing that I really want to know.
And then I met you so I could feel, what you should know:
I've finally found your love.
And now my nightmares are gone.
This is the way to love you.
Walking again without missing your way,
You won't get lost if your passion's true,
If you can stay with me forever,
Don't be afraid I'm with you,
We gotta swim against the tide and the flow
This is the feeling you'll understand
The troubled life.... It won't be too bad to face
And any problem you can see won't to be too hard,
If I can walk beside you,
Don't be afraid to be true 'cause now you have to bring,
The power of the smile on your face.

Night

I awoke in my bed at 5:00 AM. Even though I had been sleeping for hours, I still shivered with cold before turning over and going back to sleep.

Always In My Head

"I don't like the term 'Making Love' because you aren't really making love. You could be making body fluids and babies, but hardly anyone actually uses sex as an expression of love. It's more a physical act to them."

I just looked at him and nonchalantly said,

"I know."

The Lady's Song

In the deep of the night,
Arthur sturred in his room,
Too many things riddled his mind,
His thoughts poisonous seeds,
There was only the choice,
To make or break it,
And Arthur rose from his bed,
Unsure of what to do,
As he paced back and forth,
Only one thing could clear his head,
The thought of that sword,
Legendary, Magestic, Pure, Heroic,
Everything he wanted to be,
It was a mystery to be solved,
Something that rumors say,
Only a King could master,
But while Arthur wanted to be King,
His desire for the sword was greater,
In the cover of night,
Arthur escaped the fortress,
And traveled up to the ancient stones,
Where Excalibur still stood tall,
Embedded amongst the stones,
In the moonlight shining,
Blinding it from Arthur's sight,
As Arthur approached,
The ground trembled slightly,
And the air grew heavy,
Weighed by tension,
Excalibur had awakened,
Arthur continued towards the searing light,
Eager to see the blade,
Wanting to feel it,
Wanting to remember it,
Wanting to uncover it,
Wanting to claim it,
Just as the moon disappeared behind clouds,
Excalibur began to burn the air,
Waves of passion fell upon Arthur,
He wanted to fall to his knees and worship,
He wanted to give thanks for this holy relic,
He wanted to make Excalibur known to him,
But as he approached the sword,
A great magick grasped him,
And Arthur was frozen,
Unsure of what wrong he had done,
But Excalibur had decided,
And without a sound slid away,
Escaping its stoned prison with ease,
And flew to the boy,
But as Arthur reached out and took the sword,
He turned from boy to man,
And the air,
Intensified,
Beyond words,
Time frozen,
Endless,
Thoughtless,
Needless,
Hopeless,
Existance,
Being,
And quietly the air returned,
The weight now returned to the blade,
The clouds uncovered the moon,
White as snow,
Revealing in the light Arthur,
Red as the rose,
And Excalibur in his hand,
Black as ebony,
King Arthur took the blade down to the lake,
And stood at the water's edge,
Gazing into the translucent mirror,
Looking down at,
His sweated brow,
His tainted tunic,
His darkened relic,
But then a voice called to him,
And Arthur raised his head,
As the Lady of the Lake rose again,
And begged for her blade,
The blade she desired most,
One that she had given,
Her Son of God,
But Arthur stood strong,
Singing the sword's song,
Breaking the reflection in the water,
He turned away,
Returning to his kingdom,
Leaving the Lady of the Lake,
Alone in the moonlight,
As she sung the sword's song back,
Like a mother calling for a lost child.

Digress to Regress to Progress.

The eyes, they were, so very different,
The shape, of her, it is so frail,
My eyes, describe, the edges meek,
My head, engrained, with seeds of dust,
O' Where, pray tell, is the plant pot,
O' Where, my lord, are your children,
You've lost, them all, between your fingers,
You've lost, our hope, our dreams of living,
We'll gain, your feet, and walk in silence,
We'll gain, your soul, and try to break it,
Grant thus, pursue, and live forever,
Grant thus, renew, and become undone,
Have faith, move on, live life as we see it.
Have faith, step down, and bow before their feet.
No, That can't be all there is. There must be much more.
No, I won't do it again. I will not suffer.
I feel it now. I have felt it. I will feel it.
I am. .

I'm always cold.

Maybe I didn't realize it as much because I didn't know what being warm was like.





Now I'm addicted to being warm.

Self-Examination Terminated

There is no need for it now. I have decided that, if I were to pick myself apart, I would discover that I am made up of many things. And you know what? They are all way to dynamic to look at individually. It would take my whole life and then some afterlife time to finish most of it. Ofcourse there are some things that will never change about me. Those are the things that have impacted me so deeply that, for better or worst, they will always come back to haunt me. It doesn't bother me as much anymore since I've come to this conclusion. It isn't me just "pushing it off" or shoving it into a corner for later. I am who I am. I am a predictable, dynamic, selfish, selfless, beautiful, ugly, self-loathing, appreciative, religious, faithless, true, false, unknowledgable, creative, understanding, one sided, accepting, rejecting, carefree, burdened, reminiscent, foreseeing, present, feeling, thoughtless and thoughtful, know what I want and don't want, know what I'll try and won't try, know my limits... and don't know them sometimes, not a drunk, not a druggie, high-on-life (believe me, it's got good parts), don't need anyone except the handful I've chosen, I am a seer, a teacher, a divine, a prophet, a mediator, a sacrifice, a rightious, a demon, a worm (sometimes), a virus, an epidemic, a thought, a poison uncured, a potent elixir, a short arm, a strong-will, a lazy ass, a procrastinator, a day-dreamer, a believer, a non-believer, an unconvincing, self-rightous anti-hero who just wants to be himself. And thats what I'm doing. Because I realize now that if I didn't like who I was, then that is not who I would be trying to be. I don't hate myself. I hate some things I do. I hate looking at those things very much. I hate what I've done to people and myself sometimes. But you know what? At least I'm not a phony. There are too many phonies in this world. I don't like 'em. So to all of you phonis out there, "I am who I am. Why can't you just be who you are?" And if they don't know the answer to that... then I say forget everything and just do what you do, feel what you feel, be what you want as long as it's real. Don't look up to others if you are trying to find yourself. They aren't you. You are you. And I must say, I'm kinda cute.

Industrious Examination

Can you see the beauty inside of me?

What happened to the beauty I had inside of me...

(Wherever it is... I will find it.)

Where's...

I'm cold.

Internally Struck

Extreme heat.

Back away.

Too close.

Too much.

My blood races.

The sheets are scattered.

Beads drip down my forehead.

Only breathing through the mouth.

My nose screams.






Then quietly...
A Chill...
Coldness...
First my feet...
Then my legs...
My hands...
My arms...
Shivering...
Trying to breath...
Only gasps...
Pulling at my last sheet...
Convulsions...
So cold...
Must stay warm...
Reaching to my side...
Nothing there...
Diagonal lines...
Shear winds...
Beyond bumps of fright...
Chattering teeth...
Coldness...
Aloneness...
Fingerless...
Memoriless...
No feelings left...
Just cold...
So cold...
Please hold me...
Nothing left behind my eyes...
Pop them out...
Shread off my face...
No breathing...
Except by the mouth...
A hoarse rasp...
Stuttering in the air...
So cold...
Need heat...
Need sleep...
Need to breath...
Help me...
Choke your name as I fight...
Choking...
Choughing...
Fluid...
Coldnesses...
Drugs...
My body remains unaffected...
Please help...
Sleep...
Warmth...
Hold me...
Please...
Now...
Like an addict...
I want it...
So much more...
No movement...
No growing...
Only fighting...
In my head...
Escape me...
SSsssssslllllleeeeeeeeeepppppppppp...

Ccccoooolllllddddd...

IIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii...

Wwwwaaaannnntttt...

Mmmmyyyyyy...

.................................

Immoral Signet

The brightly colored polos, The denim jeans, The rings on rings, The small chuckle, The deep smile, The warm hands, The cold hands, The sicknesses, The despair, The memories, The weight, The burden, The long trek, The molested feet, The fuzzy chin, The naked eyes, The defined brow, The buddha, The joy, The singing, The heritage, The voices, The music, The fingers, The sadness, The painful touch, The hardened heart, The tears, The obsession, The intamacy, The passion, The isolation, The reminicing, The movement, The emotions, The touch, The moments, The kisses...

These are a few reasons why,
I don't just want to wait.
I want to be patient too.

These memories we are creating,
I want them for my own.
I wish them to mean more than the others.

These rustic picture frames in my mind,
I wish to put them away.
I replace them with the silver ones.

These images I've created,
I replace the illusion of them.
I don't want just a mirage.

I want you to hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me...

I want you.

Why?

'cause I'm selfish.

Obsession

Deep in the night...
Far off the light...
Missing my headache...

Visions of light...
Sweeter delight...
Kissing my loveache...

How come I must know...
Where obsession needs to go...
How come I must know...
Where this passion hides its feeling?

How come I must know...
Where obsession needs to go...
How come I must know...
The direction of releaving...

In the cold night, In a forgotten room

In the cold night,
In a forgotten room,
We were there,
Enjoying our sweetnesses.
As the clock struck midnight,
And every second that past into morning,
I began to lose my self control.
I wanted them, but I couldn't...
Not yet...
We didn't exist,
But I wanted to see them...
I wanted to touch them...
I wanted to worship them...
I wanted to break my will...
But all I could do was bite my lip,
And watch as time slipped by,
And my self control unwind...
Until I couldn't stop myself...
I could hear the voices in my head,
Debating our options...
And all I could conclude was that they...
Were not We...
But...
We could try.
We could try.
We could try.
And using my strength I urged them onward...
Pushing them to the edge,
Watching them struggle,
Wanting so badly to see them relinquished...
And suddenly they stopped me...
And told me to release myself...
Before they did themselves...
Such a selfless act...
Such a small sacrifice...
But only to make certain...
Each other wasn't selfish...
And I tried to do it...
But it was not possible...
Only Arthur could claim Excalibur.
I am no longer his master.
But still I tried.
And I ran far.
To the edge.
I tried to push them over.
They pushed me back.
And I fell upon them...
Shivering...
Because I...
Or rather...
We...
Did not exist...
And I was selfish...
But they understood...
Me...
For who I was...
And every second that past after...
I wished I could do something...
Or rather...
Everything...
And I tried to stop from shaking,
But my hand quivered.
They took my hand.
My head rested on them for a while.
This body here,
These bodies together,
Meant everything.
As dawn began to advance,
My luck began to retreat,
But one question still remained,
And I asked why...
Why is it...
When we kiss...
It is different...
Than the others...
I wanted to know...
More than anything...
What they had felt...
What they had felt before.
They stood up and took my body.
There was a pause,
Then,
A violent torrent attacked me.
And I understood completely...
I understood completely...
Because I too...
Had been attacked before...
And when We understood...
I could feel us touching...
Beyond mere caressing...
Beyond mere memories...
Beyond mere thoughts...
We were touching...
Or rather...
Converging.
But as I glanced out the window,
Into the dark night,
I could feel the sun burning on the edge of the horizon,
Eager to get on with the day.
All I could think about then...
Was how happy I was I didn't have to work on Sunday.

Losing Control

Roses are soaring like birds without feathers,
Dancing in red and white petals of laughter,
Why can't I seem to see past these old blinds?
Where are the answers I'm trying to find...

Is it right here...
Was it once there...
Is it far behind?

And maybe there isn't an answer at all.
I just have to look inside.

Noses are kissing and singing out gaily,
Great walls are falling and Mongols invading,
Day doesn't seem as important as night...
Why must I try to bite back and to fight?

If there was us...
Just between us...
Nothing would be right...

There'd only be two broken halves joined in song,
And singing we'd reach new heights...

Kisses are countless and fingers are feeling,
If we could, I'd bet we'd be on the ceiling,
Memories are breaking and fading away...
Instead you're here and I am your prey.

Just caressing,
Some undressing,
And a scar or two...

But nothing that could make me stumble or sway,
From meeting you twice in one day...





I could keep going, but I fear the birds in my head might start attacking me!

Wednesday

I focus my mind.
Focus.
Seek the truth.
See it now.
I open my eyes.

Foward.

Leaping ahead.

To the edge.

I see the wave.

Coming.

Grasping his hand.

Frozen in fears.

I await the water.

Approaching.

Looking at the hand.

Sinking in sand.

Eyes kiss goodbye.

Holding on.

Not letting go.

Water,
Sand,
Foam,
Sand,
Water,
Foam.

No air.

Nothing,

but his hand...

still holding on...

to me...

And then my alarm at 10:45 woke me up. It had been going off every five minutes since 6:30 so I can't blame it for being mad. My bedroom was a mess, but considering I am never there to enjoy it for more than sleep it didn't bother me today. My underwatered spider plants reached for the sunlight coming in through the windows. The small pile of books at the side of my bed looked at me in shame as I got up and ignored them. My clothes were downstair anyway so I grabbed a pile of dirty laundry and brought those with me. There is little to no heat in my room, but it was still colder in the kitchen. My mother began asking questions, but I shook her off with a promised talk after a shower. During the shower I thought about what I was doing today, but couldn't come up with anything above the average. My books continued to scold me while I was dressing and packing my stuff. A friend called and asked if I wanted to go window shopping, which was code for compulsive-buying-to-make-myself-feel-better. On my way to his house it was raining. I picked him up and we drove to the mall. It began to rain harder. I saw a comic book and he saw a movie so we got those to satisfy ourselves. On our way to the restaurant we always went to it began raining even harder. When we got inside, there was no generic background music playing to entertain us while we ate. It was very dry inside the empty dinning room. There were only two other people there besides us. I stared out the window and watched the rain while paying the check with my debit card. I flipped up my phone and sent a quick text message. When we got back to my car the rain stopped. I looked for my phone to check if there was a reply to my message, but I couldn't find it. We drove back to the resaurant. The waitress didn't seem helpful. The manager didn't care. I left my number on a napkin knowing it would be tossed once I was out the door. On the highway I called my phone using my friend's, but no one answered. I sat in silence all the way back to my house. I activated my old phone, reported my other as missing or stolen, and then took my friend home. He didn't mind waiting. On my way back to my house for the second time it started to rain again. I opened my driver-side window and reached out my hand into the darkness. Rain pelted my fingers, my plam, my arm, and my face. I looked next to me at the empty passenger seat. My right hand flinched. I turned back to the road. I rolled up my window. I down shifted. I kept going.

But I still couldn't stop missing him.

What I was doing...

I spent my posting time posting a response to a post that most certainly needed one.
Here was the post and the response I gave:

POST

Should I offer up my fleshy blade?
Passion wrought and lusty-made...
Would you offer your sword too?
Or 'haps a chalice of rosy dew?
Perchance you offer the Holy Grail?
Your tender skin both blushed and pale...
The cup, this man, both white and red...
I'll comb you smooth and stroke your head.
To sup the wine that lies within...
But dare not break the holy skin?
And if by your word, you shall know me...
Than in that act we'll be made Holy.
So when you're ready; the act conveyed...
I'll give you the stars, and they'll never fade.



All in due time.


RESPONSE

I sit here now and hear your voice...
And understand it's not your choice.
To pull the sword from another's side...
Is making the choice to live or die.
We see those around us fail or lie...
Only half of them seem to survive.
What scares me most of this covenant...
Is how to some it seems irrelivant.
How simple it is to have your heat...
And fuse together those incomplete.
The road that I had chosen to walk...
Is one where there is one line of chalk.
I guess this fight that we want to end...
Stops when you and I can both depend...
Not on one hand to feel ahead...
But on two hands to grasp instead.


I...


or rather...


We...

Blood

My breath wasn't my own,
My lips weren't my own,
My body wasn't my own.

I couldn't stop.
I wouldn't stop.
I should...

"Control..."

Suddenly the world returned to us.
Our hearts were racing fast.
Time resumed again.

But what was a goodbye was only a beginning.
Everything stopped except for us once more.
Control did not exist.

A hand on their chest,
A hand on my back,

A tight grip.

Claws dragging down my spine,
Peeling away my layers of memories.

I try to ignore them,
but there is too much there.
I can feel the memories upon me.

My eyes saw terrible things.
My heart screamed for mercy.
My head arched away.

They pause for a moment,

But it was not their fault.

My hand met theirs and urged them onward,
A quest to scrap off those horrible memories began,
The memories I will never forget.



Later that morning,

I stared at the marks on my back.

They reminded me of my feet.

My scarred feet,

Which I had bleed not so long ago,

Shuddered beneath my own touch.

How had I done such things?

My hands caressed the horizontal lines on my feet,

And the vertical lines on my back.

"No Blood.", I said to my reflection in the mirror.


No Blood.

Connect the dots

Now we are huddled together in the cold.
I feel their arms, their hands, their face.
They are still chilled, but I alone cannot warm them completely.
I see them staring back at me.
Their fingers graze my hair like sheep.
My eyes close and my body relaxes.
Slowly, their fingers move down my face.
My forehead,
My brows,
My eyes,
My nose,
My cheeks,
My lips.
They stop.
Something about these teases them.
My eyes open slowly and peer into their eyes.
Those deep, soul black eyes.
They want them for their own.
They want me.
The condition is...me.

"Do you want my lips?"

"yes."

there was a short pause before I replied:

"Then they are yours..."

What I listen to on rainy days

Beauty queen of only eighteen
She had some trouble with herself
He was always there to help her
She always belonged to someone else

I drove for miles and miles
And wound up at your door
I've had you so many times but somehow
I want more

I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
She will be loved

Tap on my window knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
I know I tend to get so insecure
It doesn't matter anymore

It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along, yeah
My heart is full and my door's always open
You can come anytime you want

I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved

I know where you hide
Alone in your car
Know all of the things that make you who you are
I know that goodbye means nothing at all
Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls

Tap on my window knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful

I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved

[in the background]
Please don't try so hard to say goodbye
Please don't try so hard to say goodbye

Yeah
[softly]
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain

Try so hard to say goodbye

It's only here when you are

What is happening to me...

I won't ever be the same...

I've lost my metaphysical virginity...

And now there is no going back...

But I don't mind it here on the other side of the fence...

I can sit here with them...

I can listen to them...

And suddenly it doesn't seem so bad...

Not that what is happening to me at this moment is bad...

But the thoughts of being alone...

They are breaking...

I am on the thin ice now...

It is cracking...

And I want to jump...

And shatter the glassy surface...

And plunge into the depths of...

God.

Writer's Spasm

Is there such thing as writer's spasm? I shall call it: Inspiration!

Why must I go back?

Down the hallway I walk with my backpack at my side. People are pushing past me. I enter the classroom silently. Everyone else had arrived on time. Finding a seat was most easy and difficult. On the first day the seat you choose means everything. If the teacher asks you to remain where you are seated for the rest of the term, then that is where you stay. My fellow classmates talk gaily as I rest my head in my arms on the desk. They have no idea, but neither do I.

I small tap on my shoulder makes me look up through my sleeves. A girl is hunched over the length of a desk and is peering at me. She asks if I brought my calculator to class. I tell her it was on the syllabis, ofcourse I do. Then she asks if a scientific calculator would be fine. I tell her we were required a graphing one. She asks if that's what I have. I say yes. Then she whips out her brand new graphing calculator and asks if she can import any games I might happen to have. I tell her I only have one: Two Player Bomberman.

I might have thought that once, but never again.

I am scared. Yes, I am scared. I am terrified. I am a wreck. There is finally one person who understands what, who, and why. There is one person who stands out amongst the rest. That is what scares me.

I thought it would be easier to be alone. They understand. I thought it would be easier to pass. They understand. I wanted to have a family. Children. A life. They understand.

It is so good. Like a comfort food that I haven't had in years, or even my whole life. There is someone who will play with my hair when my hands aren't. There is someone who doesn't judge me for who I was. There is someone who wants me for who I am, not what I look like (although calling me cute is nice too). There is someone with that perfect sense of humor, those eyes, the foresight. There is someone who can see where I can't and lead me there. There is someone who is traveling with me. There is someone who cries. There is someone to cry with as well. There is someone to have fun with. There is someone to embrace. There is someone who understands what I mean without words. There is someone who has taken my phrase, and I theirs.

We are starting to spin around each other like two stars around each other. I cannot escape the force of gravity between them. I try to search for an escape route, but I stop myself. There is no need for one. Any pain that comes to us is one I will carry. And you know what? That scares me. It scares me that whatever happens, this is something that will never go away. I will always know that I have found at least one person to connect to my brain and read my mind with thier fingers. And even if they don't... these words are here. And you know what? Anyone can read them.

These words of mine are a click away. And while that scares everyone I know... I'm not. My thoughts are not venomous. They are not innappropriate. I might have thought that once, but never again.

What do you do?

What can I do? If you think about it, my heart begins to speak to itself, but if I think about it then it stops completely. What a problem. How about something fun? We shall try that. Yes, we shall try.

The Great Wall of China

I walk forward now. To the end of the pier. I watch the water for a while. The wind is blowing my hair across my face. I don't mind it though. It lightly touches my eyelashes. It's the next closest thing to a hand on my face.

The sea breeze bounces down my jacket. I shiver, but the air is warm. My mouth begins to frown. There is no one else. I am alone. Not even God could touch me here.

The waves are breaking slowly. The sky is dancing with color. Orange, Purple, and Blue together in harmony. The clouds are reaching for the horizon. The sun pauses for me. The moment sits still.

Suddenly, my ears are alive with sound. I can hear laughing, singing, dancing, crying, moaning, screaming.

My fingers are alive with touch. I can feel someone sharing, holding, caressing, grasping, pulling, beating.

I am back to where I began. Tears roll down my cheeks. My hand moves to my lips as they begin to quiver. My body is in a heap. I grab my sides. I am alone. I am selfish.

The sun resumes its course. The clouds disappear. The colors fade away. The sky darkens. The waves remain static.

It is late now. A gentle breeze tickles my face. It is cold, but I do not shiver. I look up into the black night. The moon illuminates the pier. I stand up slowly like a puppet. There is no reason to go back, but it is not my choice.

Then my ears come alive again. This time it comes from the breach way. I look behind me and spot someone. They come towards me. I turn back and stare solemnly at the water. My eyes focus to a point on the horizon that doesn't exist.

They are next to me now. Nothing is said. They turn to me. I remain focused on my nothingness, but I notice. Without warning they pull me close. I am suddenly being embraced.

My body begins to shake. I don't know what to do, but I rest my head on their chest. I hear their heart rythmically pounding. It doesn't change at all. They are warmer than the breeze. Their voice shatters the sounds in my head. I am hopelessly lost now. I squeeze them back. I don't want to let go. I don't want to be alone. I am not alone anymore.

Our hands meet. Then we turn and head down the pier. As we step off the pier, I turn back one last time and catch a glimpse of a small girl standing where I had been. She is watching the static waves, the glowing moon, and the black sky.

She is alone. But I am not.

Chinchilla

I am a chinchilla.

The Firebird

I love this song so much... and I wished I could see it in concert, but I don't know anyone who is playing it. Then I went on youtube so I could listen to it... and found an orchestra playing it!!!

IT IS SO BEAUTIFUL!!!

<(^^<) Go Firebird! Dance!

Infernal Dance

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4S64H4HXTw

Finale

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-zUn_yICSM

I am so jealous those people can play instruments well enough to have that much fun playing the Firebird. Arrrrggg!!! Even the old guys are having fun!!! Sometimes I wish I could play like that, but then I remember that I don't read music ^^;; I'll just enjoy them enjoying and also enjoy the sound waves _/``\_/`\_ <(^^<)

<.< >.>

The Deed is Done.

Arrr Hrrr Trrr Crrr

I spent 7 hours talking to him, and that wasn't enough.

If only a toll booth could create and inbetween time or a mystic box appear around us so that time wouldn't move or that the fairies would create a bubble of time around that space just so I could spend more time with him.
Maybe then... it would be easier.

But that one word, the slang word for affection...

I must not use it.
I must not use it.
I must not use it.

Because if I do it again... and it doesn't work... I don't know if I will again. The scars of my past are deep and tender. Before now... before I knew who I was.

But it is very much worth the wait.

And I will wait for the right time to console him, to comfort him, to let him know that there is absolutly one person in the world who _ him for everything that he is and will be. There is one person who will do whatever it takes. And that person will know him.

And to know you... is to...

Float!

I had a very giddy car ride home tonight while listening to "Bed of Roses" by Mindless Self Indulgence and "self Control" by Infernal.

I haven't felt this way since high school. <(O.O)>... but this time is so much different. It is so... I don't know... adult?

I am stopping myself from writting because the fairies in my eyes will make it turn to mooshy gooshy goodness. <(^^)> I'll just sit here and float.

What happens when...

What happens when you start off,
And thought you found love,
an intense feeling of affection,
an emotion or an emotional state,
only to find it was a dream,
that what you wanted most was to see them live,
you love them because you care for their well-being.

What happens when you move on,
And thought you found love again,
an intense feeling of affection,
an emotion or an emotional state,
only to find it was for show,
because you just really wanted them to love you,
taking without giving it back so you can be loved too.

What happens when you find yourself,
Loving the eyes of another,
an intense feeling of affection,
an emotion or an emotional state?

All I know is that it is amazing.

Hero

The time had come. The white knight took up his sword and mounted his steed. Onward they flew like a wave across the plain. Flowers flew upon the white knight's helm and turned in awe at his magnificence. The darkening sky thundered in protest as he approached the castle. The broad gate broke in the white knight's presence. He dismounted and drew his kite shield. The dragon was waiting. Flames split the shield and the white knight flew through the air with his sword. The dragon's heart was pierced. The white knight leaped the spiral staircase in mere seconds, his chest stained with the dragon's blood. He reached the tallest tower and found an empty bed and an open window. Bloody footsteps lead to a door on the left...

Today

slow down...

Yesterday

I'm out of it... to much... everything!

I'll go back to school today to do my HW and get a post out of me...

...

the slience before the storm is the last breath before the next calm.

the abandoned theatre part 22

My note reads:

"It takes two to tango."

The woman fades away. I fade away. And then we are outside the theatre. Before I notice anything else, the ferris wheel catches my eyes. I watch the chairs move up and down in a circle without stopping. It is so beautiful. So primative, but unnatural at the same time.

The woman walks foward and reads a small sign beside the ride. I don't pay much attention to the sign. There is a small booth besides the platform beneath the giant wheel. I walk past the woman and step up to the booth. There is no one inside. A small box is placed to one side which is marked: "Valuables Here".

The woman catches up to me and says nothing. The ride stops slowly as if expecting something to happen. She pulls a small, shimmering object from her pocket. It looks strangely familiar. She places the object into the box marked "Valuables Here" and steps onto the platform. She looks at me expectingly. It seems impossible to imagine, but it was almost as if the woman and the ride together were pulling me to them.

We sit into a chair. As soon as the safety bar was down the ride began again.

Breath In!

I... will breath in. Move on. And walk. One step at a time. I will confront my greatest enemies. I will shake off this cold shoulder. I will adapt to my surroundings. I won't move ahead of myself, but I will catch up with what I miss most. I will get what I want or die trying. I will be selfish and make the first move... but how do you do that? You get what you want or die trying ofcourse!

The Last Date and The Truth

When you look into my eyes,
What do you see?
Is there hope
Is there dreams?
What can you see?

My head goes left to where you'll be,
But what's that mean?
Can you see it?
Is it there?
Or could it mean...

There he goes again on the ferris wheels,
Up and down we spin,
Nothing is said,
Yet the lights say,
Down and up we'll spin.

The face paint peels onto the stand,
The moon reflects his eyes,
I see beyond the storm,
I think I can touch his...
But then where's his eyes?

I grasp at his side and hold him close,
Is there nothing he would miss most?
To live an easy life,
To live a troubled day,
Who really cared most?

Suddenly he is gone from my sight,
Never to be seen again,
My eyes begin to swell,
My heart begins to stop,
His last words ring again...

When you look into my eyes,
What do you see?
Is there hope
Is there dreams?
What can you see?

My head goes left to where you'll be,
But what's that mean?
Can you see it?
Is it there?
Or could it mean...

There he goes again on the ferris wheels,
Up and down we spin,
Nothing is said,
Yet the lights say,
Down and up we'll spin.

The face paint peels onto the stand,
The moon reflects his eyes,
I see beyond the storm,
I think I can touch his...
But then where's his eyes?

I grasp at his side and hold him close,
Is there nothing he would miss most?
To live an easy life,
To live a troubled day,
Who really cared most?

Suddenly he is gone from my sight,
Never to be seen again,
My eyes begin to swell,
My heart begins to stop,
His last words ring again...

Decoding the Cryptic Writing

I am not going to post part 22 of "the abandoned theatre" yet because I am in a horrible mood. If you don't believe me look at my comments on http://midnightonthursday.blogspot.com/ that I posted today.

I can tell when I am depressed now. I write like that man... he must have been more depressed than I am now to have been writing that way all his life. Not that his scripts or compilations are terrible. They are quite the works. The tone of voice, however, makes me want to slap someone in the face with a cold salmon. Such disrespect, hatred, moaning, groaning, bitch please, you suck, all-knowing, repulsive tone is used that it makes ME want to go kick a baby. (I tried to use humor to lighten the load. But seriously, no babies or spawning fish.)

Now I am going to attempt to show you why I am depressed and cannot write part 22 of "the abandoned theatre". It is because I have no one to talk to. Or that is what they are making me do. They are making me talk to no one.

NO ONE BUT THEM. And guess who can't talk to me? THEM. I don't mean to be disrespectful toward them, but when you come downstairs in the morning and one of them starts to break down in front of you at 7:30 AM right before you have to work... how are you suppose to talk to them? And how can you talk to someone who tears up on a daily basis when you enter the room? And how are you suppose to listen to the other side complain about you and why you are what you are and how (a direct quote mind you)

"This is all your fault."

The instant I told them... it was all about how to make sure I really was, so we went to the man. The man said, after ONE session, 99.9% yes. Then it was tears from them.

They tell me they are tears about how hard my life is going to be from now on. They tell me it is all about how hard it is going to be on me. They don't ever think they are selfish. They don't ever consider that I have been taking this burden since the beginning. They don't ever consider how hard it was for me to tell them. Yes, I talked to them about it. Once. Then I was the selfish one. I was the horrible person. It was my fault.

WELL GOD DAMNIT IT IS MY FAULT.

There, are you happy? I could never say this to them. They already know it is my fault.

Now they don't want anyone to know. They warn me like I am some escaped convict on the loose after killing a number of cops and pregnant women. It is my choice, isn't it? I want to be who I am after years of passing for another and now I have been told to hold myself back for them.

I want to talk.
I I I I I.
Me Me Me Me Me Me.

Who's fault is this?

MINE. I am a selfish bastard because GUESS WHAT?

THIS ENTIRE MESS IS ABOUT ME. I want to talk to someone.

So they tell me to talk to the man. Unfortunatly the man costs me money and time (and only once a week! ONCE A WEEK FOR maybe 45 minutes!!!) How I am I suppose to deal with this?

I want to talk.
I am selfish and I want to talk.
I want to move on.
I want to live.
I want to be outside with my friends.
I want to live on campus and start a relationship.
I want to read books and study dead writers.
I want to start a club and go to anime boston in a costume and totally geek out.
I want to be able to talk to my friends.
I want everyone to talk to me.
I want to talk to my friends and ask them how they are doing.
I want to go to england and the rest of europe, with everyone.
I want to listen to any kind of music I want in my Jeep Wrangler and sing horribly and off-key whithout knowing half the words with my friends.
I want to go to the ocean.
I want to go to THAT place.
The place we were baptised and had our high school slime washed away.
I want to see the old men watch me walk into the water with all my cloths on.
I want to float in the frozen waters for as long as I want.
I want to travel to the past and be myself, before there was myself.
I want to journey to Ancient Greece, Egypt, Rome, Britian, India, China, Japan, South Africa, Brazil, Mexico,
I want to boogie board on Hawaiian waves.
I want someone there beside me.
I want someone to listen to my selfish self talk senselessly into the night about selfish things.
I don't want to make people cry when they see me.
I don't want people to break down everytime I try to talk to them.
I don't want to be silent.

All of these things I must keep to myself because I am NOT allowed to talk to anyone.

But they didn't say anything about writing anything that anyone could just happen to read by chance and understand why I don't want to write part 22 of "the abandoned theatre" at this time because I am a depressed and selfish, yet unique, individual who respects the theatre and its actors.

It's upsetting.

I am bothered by the fact that I have no urge to write right now. I will do something soon. Please don't give up on me! (Pats himself on the back.)

the abandoned theatre part 20

"Really? Me too," the woman says. "Well, more of a scriptwriter, usually, though I have been known to venture onto the stage. Do you know the way out of here?"

Where is the way out? I reach into my pocket and feel the note I found in the classroom. I suddenly realize it's importance.

"I found it, but I think I might forget it soon. We have to hurry. This way."

We hurry down the dark corridor. As if the maze is against us the lanterns begin to go out one by one. If the darkness engulfs us we will never get out. I pick up the pace and soon we are racing for the door. Just as the last light goes out we burst out of the door and appear backstage once again.

The Woman moves forward and picks up a script off the floor. Could the page I had found earlier be part of this complete work? Before I can say anything she turns to me and says, "We need to get rid of this script."

The look in her eyes is one I dare not challenge. I walk over and pick up the lighter and take the script. The ghostly audience watches in fear. I turn to them and light the script aflame. They rush from their places and leap at the stage. The Woman gasps with fright and steps backward. I toss the flaming papers at the advancing host. Their images are engulfed by the smoke and disappear.

I look around for more ghosts. The remaining images hover for a moment over the dying flames before vanishing from this plane. All that is left is a smoldering pile of ash.

The Woman falls to the floor. I turn to the left and see her image fading away. She smiles to me and says, "So this is the exit?"

"No." I say to her. I reach into my pocket and pull out the note. I notice when I examine the note that I too am fading away. There isn't much time left.

the abandoned theatre part 18

"Who are you?" My mouth moves on its own. I wish I had never said it. I clench my jaw shut as she ponders. What is taking her so long? Was it not a simple question?

"I don't really know," she replys. "Who are you?"

My lazy comment comes back into my face like a salmon. My mouth tries to respond but I won't let it. I am afraid of what it will say next. The struggle continues for a few short moments before my jaw unleashes its wrath. I close my eye in fear as my mouth utters... a sigh.

I am stunned. Did it have nothing to say after all? Now was my chance to say something of my own. Who am I? Focus.

"I am an actor in an abandoned theatre seeking to escape it."

the abandoned theatre part 16

Nothing changes. I remain here. I am in the "Now." and yet I am not. The cabinets are still as volumous as ever and the opened folders lie unkempt upon the floor. Where was the thing I needed most?

There is no sign of the Woman. I close the folder and decide this room of endless dreams and memories has served its purpose. My hands open the door for me and I venture back into the darkened hallway. Before the door shuts I hear footsteps from the other side.

"Hello?"

The question bounces into the hallway. More footsteps. They are coming.

I step to the left as the Woman of Optimism walks into the dark hallway, just missing me. The door shuts firmly behind her and disappears into the wall. There is silence. Her face is illuminated by the lanterns. This time her eyes are clearly visible. I feel them examining me.

I turn my head to the right and our eyes meet. I suddenly realize this is not the Woman of Optimism... this is... this is...

the abandoned theatre part 14

I don't know if I can handle much more of this. My head is spinning. Too much of my memory exists here. I open my eyes slowly and spot an older boy. A recent memory. Although still a boy, he has lost many of his childish features. He stands there all alone while shadows move around him in a circle. He tries to grasp at them, but they keep moving. He is calling out. To me?

My mouth locks up and my head begins to burn. He continues to cry out more urgently. His words pierce me like fiery arrows. I try to wave but my arms are lead. He falls to the floor and the shadows depart. He is alone. There is no one else. Darkness begins to creep into the room. It devours my vision. Only my foresight can see him now... the pitiful lump in the earth. Coldness. A chill runs through me. Still no one comes. No one is here with him except...

"I am here."

Suddenly I realize my eyes are closed. As they open the many cabinets appear once more. The "I tried my best" folder remains glued to the floor. Staring at it for a while made my head stop spinning. My body begins to function once more.

I turn and see a momentary flash. A cabinet lies open nearby. Is there another person here? The "Moments when the world was yours." cabinet is open. A folder rests open on the floor, but I do not know what it says. My senses tell me it is of great importance.

As I try to pick up the contents I am rushed into another space. I hear sea birds cry out to the breaking waves. The smell of sand fills my nose and the sound of laughter rings in my ears. There are others in the water. I spot the boy amidst them. Standing nearby is... No... could it be?

The Woman of Optimism's face is hidden by her tangled hair. Only her mouth is visible. It's half-heartedly smiling. Her hand reaches for her pocket... and she begins to fade away.

My words are carried away by a strong, salty breeze as she vanishes completely. Some old men sitting on a bench behind me snort. I turn to the left and reply defiantly.

"I am here."

Each time those words come from me I feel stronger. The sea shore is the cabinet room now. The Woman couldn't have gone far. I see yet another cabinet open. It reads on the label "Monsters in the shadows" and yet another folder is on the ground. She must have ventured to that dream... or reality.

I decide to wait for her arrival. As I casually glance around I spot a cabinet I cannot resist opening. It is marked "What I need most". A grimace appears on my face as I pull out a random folder cautiously. It reads "Now." with a noticeable period at the end of now as if it were placed there specifically for a reason or cryptic purpose.

My head turns to the left as I leave the room of cabinets once more and venture into "Now.".