tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61847255684271406722024-03-13T09:51:47.286+00:00A World of WordsThe written ramblings of an inesculent bean.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-11891824089234387152015-03-06T19:51:00.001+00:002015-03-06T19:56:58.140+00:00Theorem<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;">Α</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;">.</span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;">There is a lot to be said</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><i>For marks and muscles</i></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;">β</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;">.</span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;">Do the vigilant miscall?</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><i>Or do they rally?</i></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;">Γ.</span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;">Perhaps it is conceivable</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;">That potentially it is feasible</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;">That may-hap by some chance</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><i>It could possibly be</i></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;">Δ.</span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><i>Unequal to:</i></span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<i>Which way is the line?</i></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;">(Ε.)</span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<i>(There are too many)</i></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="p15" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-41060954388611617842014-10-27T22:33:00.000+00:002014-10-27T22:42:11.845+00:00Anchorage(*clears cobwebs off the microphone*<br />
I think I wrote this a couple of months ago, but I guess it's kind of relevant. Plus whoops it's been fifteen months, how'd that happen? Also is anybody even here any more? :P)<br />
<br />
<b>Anchorage</b><br />
<br />
There are words in the haven<br />
You can scroll down the page<br />
Read through them<br />
<br />
They hope that you're OK<br />
And wish all the best<br />
And talk about small things<br />
<br />
And small things which are big things,<br />
They talk about big things which aren't small,<br />
And big things which are<br />
<br />
The sentences run in complex metaphors<br />
Or simple analogies<br />
Or direct expression<br />
<br />
And they're all written in glitter pen<br />
Because they shine, when you read them,<br />
With value but also with fun<br />
<br />
And the words sometimes indicate actions<br />
A hug which isn't a hug by any physical standards<br />
But which represents maybe more than other hugs sometimes will<br />
<br />
The hug becomes language, rather than action<br />
It's a verb, yes, but it's also a statement<br />
Of thank you, or I love you, or it's OK<br />
<br />
It tells that haven is still haven<br />
When it's written on a page<br />
That sanctity in words is still sanctity<br />
<br />
And it's a warehouse, the haven<br />
Packed with heavy wooden crates<br />
And times which are not now<br />
<br />
And people who are no longer<br />
But who are the same people<br />
In invisible simultaneity<br />
<br />
The atmosphere isn't air<br />
In this haven it's not nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide<br />
It's history and presence and alternately existing moments<br />
<br />
But it's chemical, too, it's helium<br />
Manipulating words to enjoyment<br />
It is life and it can be breathed<br />
<br />
And maybe when we respire<br />
That atmosphere is pulled into our bloodstream<br />
And pushed into each of our cells<br />
<br />
Maybe our bodies are made of the haven<br />
And it keeps us alive<br />
And it helps us to betterment<br />
<br />
But some days, it's lonely in the haven<br />
The atmosphere doesn't wrap itself through you<br />
Your alveoli don't fill<br />
<br />
There are words which aren't yours<br />
And you're trying to breathe them<br />
But they don't fit, and you don't let them<br />
<br />
But the haven still cares<br />
Even if you're not breathing it<br />
It breathes for you<br />
<br />
There are words in the haven<br />
They are flawed and limited<br />
They are endless and perfect.<br />
<br />
<br />
:)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-51399672412574560232013-07-28T16:51:00.000+01:002013-07-28T17:07:58.137+01:00The Island: Challenge III<div class="MsoNormal">
Sleep came to me as death follows a knife through the heart –
fast, and with little pain. But, unlike death, sleep haunted me, even after I
had been taken. The confines of my mind lost its limits, and sleep was able to
haunt each corner of my being with whatever terrors it had to offer. It showed
me dark and light, and the spaces in between; it offered creatures I couldn’t
ever imagine, and creatures I have only recently encountered; it took my life
and showed me every haunting mistake I couldn’t ever take back, my weaknesses,
and my unwanted strengths; and it showed me shrieks and howls of creatures long
extinct. It filled my mind with encounters and experiences and things I could
tell I was yet to see, but wished would never come.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Waking didn’t offer much relief. Though the images and the
words dissipated, the shrieks of the dead continued to haunt me, not just in my
head, but as though I could actually <i>hear</i>
them. Which is, of course, ridiculous,
isn’t it? The living in this place is far from conventional, but they can’t
have bloody <i>dragons</i>, can they?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I pull my head from the pool, and shake the water free from
my face, before pushing my hair back with my hands. My left thumb runs across
its opposing hand, but, as I expected, the ring is still gone. I don’t know
what happened to it, but it was gone when I awoke, and I want it back. As it
turns out, the whole thing was a waste of time. <i>Though, strictly speaking, that’s not entirely true,</i> I think, right
forearm catching my eyes, free of any previous injury, and darkened
significantly in colour, despite the thick tree canopy which had kept the
previous days in darkness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stickiness from the humid air envelopes me, and my head’s
throbbing, probably from dehydration, but that forsaken shrieking certainly isn’t
helping. It’s not getting any better either – in fact, it might even be getting
<i>louder</i>. I don’t even know what to do.
About anything. I’m hungry and fed up and I want to leave. <i>Let. Me. Go.</i> I mutter to the greying sky above me, and crumple back
against the flat cliff rocks, a safe distance from the forest behind me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can’t decide whether I’d be safer in the open land, at the
edges of the cliffs; or back in the forest, hidden, but also trapped. I’m
pretty much doomed, either way. Cursing, I lift one of the loose rocks from
beside me and throw it back against the ground. Its edges shatter, and the
pieces fly up towards my eyes, but I hardly even notice, because I’m focussing
on what’s still intact, still unsatisfactory. I take another, and throw it
again, to no avail. Frustrated, I throw the third rock as hard as I can in the
direction of the forest, and drop my face into my hands as it passes through
the foliage, and causes a flock of birds to scatter through the canopy,
startled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the forest alarm continues,
and I frown, because the rock’s gone, it did nothing but fly and fall. And I
think, maybe, something else is setting off the alarm, because it can’t be me,
can it? And then I’m wondering, if they’re all scared, then maybe I should be,
too-</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m right.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The shriek hits me at its loudest,
and I open my mouth to scream back, but no sound escapes because I’m looking at
the forest and it’s moving and something’s flying <i>out</i>, and it’s shrieking and I’m blinking because it’s no bird-</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s a dinosaur.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Which isn’t even <i>possible</i> because they’re supposed to be
bloody extinct, and <i>what the heck?</i> But it’s heading for me, and whatever it is I
need to move, but my legs are stuck to the ground and I am so damn confused
because it-</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It hits me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I’m screaming in silence,
until I realise that’s a stupid idea, because it’s gripping tighter and tighter
around my chest and if I can’t get out I’m not going to be able to breathe, and
wasting my oxygen on soundless screams will get me nowhere. My stupid mouth
shuts and my hands go to its talons and try to prise them open, but its muscles
are set and I can’t even shift them. So I panic and start punching them, though
I know it’ll do nothing to set me free, but I’m desperate, and then suddenly, I’m
not. Because I’ve looked down and we’ve passed the edge of the cliff, so there’s
only me and the air and an impossible dinosaur who wants to eat me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Which is <i>not</i> an ideal situation.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I take a deep breath, and go back
to screaming.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The pterodactyl swerves, making the
wind take my screams and pull them away from me, so I’m terrified and can’t
even hear it in the air. But I feel the monster descend, and I’m hearing
something else – water. I look down, and
rocking subtly beneath me is ocean, hungry, as the dinosaur and I both are. And
it keeps coming closer, until I fear that the pterodactyl will drown me, but
then it stops its descent and just glides above the surface, like we’re hanging
and the rest of the world is moving below us.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then it shrieks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I shriek.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I’m turning because there’s
something else approaching, and it’s <i>huge</i>.
Like a colossal, towering wall that’s just consuming everything in its path.
And then I realise – it actually is.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The pterodactyl realises too, and
it tries to turn and fly away but the great wave is drawing in far too fast,
and we both scream as the wall of water looms over us, and then it crashes, and
in the thunderous noise we are separated. And we are swallowed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">I noticed that I never did write an entry for Challenge Three of Gepard's Island. And since the Island helped me a lot in actually making me write, it seemed silly not to do the challenge that I missed. So, I wrote it. And now it exists (with little handfuls of help from Eldritch and Adra, when blockiness struck - Thanks. :3 ). And it was a lot of fun. Hopefully I'll get back into writing frequently, soon. Hopefully - enjoy~ :3 </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-17632419544325407762013-06-18T18:44:00.001+01:002013-06-18T18:47:16.531+01:00Skul-FanFic - One. (For now, I'll just call it 'Deadbolt')<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="text-indent: 0cm;">Just across the darkness, Darren
Karl heard a lock click shut.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
It wasn't an ordinary cylinder lock,
nor was it a lever lock. It wasn't even digitally locked, and Darren had known
this from the start. No, Darren’s escape was held from him not by any ordinary
lock and key. It was held from him by an intricate series of complex magical
systems, which Darren had been studying closely by ear and by sense as the
weeks passed beside him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
Every time the cell was opened to
deliver food and drink, for his captors would not have him starve, Darren would
listen intently to every <i>click</i> and <i>snap </i>in the system, while retaining the
apathetic expression on his face, so as not to give away his actions. Though
they probably knew he was working on escape. <i>All the more reason to work quickly, </i>he thought to himself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
And when the cell remained locked,
he would sit around the door and let his mind reach out to the systems, studying
each imaginary spring, shaft and tumbler, slowly picking apart the code that
confined him. Now, finally, Darren understood exactly how the lock systems
work, and while such a structure shouldn't be caved in without the same
specialist adept ability that set them, he also knew that the boundaries of
magic can be stretched, and his ability lay just on the borderline. All he had
to do was <i>push</i>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
Through the darkness, another <i>click</i> struck.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
Darren’s breath caught. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
He pushed again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<i>Click.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
Whether it was his imagination or
not, he wasn't certain, but Darren thought he could see the dark lift just a
little with each level he reached, as the scarf of locks unravelled before him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<i>Thunk.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="text-indent: 0cm;">Darren’s heart hammered against his
ribcage. He set his palm on the door handle, twisted and glanced around, though
he knew he didn't need to. The guard would be halfway down the next corridor by
now, as far away as his patrol led, and none of the other captives could see
him through their cells.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="text-indent: 0cm;">The passage was empty. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="text-indent: 0cm;">Darren kicked off from the concrete, and ran.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="text-indent: 0cm;"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-72769864648789650212013-05-25T14:56:00.000+01:002013-05-25T14:56:51.620+01:00Refinement<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Screams.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Can you hear them?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The cries and wails they let out as I tear them apart,
drawing strings from their minds one by one, in a cruel, unforgiving pattern.
Applying pressure to their framework weight by weight until one becomes too
much and they just <i>snap</i>. It’s a
beautiful sound, when minds snap. Like the crisp break of a dry twig, or the
clicking of fingers, and it could make quite the beat, if music were my muse.
But it is not.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And it is not the sound that I focus on, but the sensation. Boundless,
it feels, as the chilling cold bolts down my spine to collide with the golden
warmth of simple knowledge that what I am doing is good. I am helping them. I
am helping everybody. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yet they don’t understand. I am not sick, or twisted or
evil, and I am neither unnatural nor ruthless. I am human. But I am a different
kind of human, and I am helping them to be, too. Because they can’t see their
own flaws, but I can. I can see everything wrong with what they are doing, and
I am fixing them. This refinement will eliminate the sense of entitlement they
think they have, and they will stand on the planet with grace, and equality. <i>Real</i>, limitless equality, with
everything around them. It will bring them together, and it will bind them.
Nobody will ever be alone, or ignored, or forgotten. Nobody will ever be
broken. And nobody will ever need fixing.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I reach forward with my mind, and feel another,
gentle, <i>snap.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-41895718664946193862013-05-12T18:17:00.000+01:002013-05-12T18:24:21.184+01:00Arrival<h4>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A short excerpt from something I began writing last week.It's based, if loosely, on a dream I had (turns out I DO remember those things, occasionally), and the concept interested me a little. This needs rewriting, really, because it feels a little rough, and there's a couple of details I wanted to include but didn't. <span style="text-indent: 0cm;">That, and I just like rewriting things. xD</span>Anway, this thing is that thing. <span style="text-indent: 0cm;">For now, I'll just call it '</span><i style="text-indent: 0cm;">Arrival'</i><span style="text-indent: 0cm;">.</span></span></h4>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 166.5pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 166.5pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<h4>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <span style="font-weight: normal;"> It’s growing dark when I finally get out of
the car and plant my feet on solid ground. Despite the unfamiliarity of the
soil, it feels good to stand for the fleeting moment before I’m led into the
building without even a ‘good-bye’ from my father. Perhaps he’ll be bringing my
bags in, I decide, and will bid me farewell when he leaves. With slight
reluctance, my attention turns back to the space around me.</span></span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"> Even in the low light, I can see
that the building’s exterior is colossal. Though surprisingly old, I muse as I
climb the stone steps and enter an exquisitely decorated corridor, the smell of
disinfectant lingers faintly in the air. Is that a good sign, or not?</span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"> My struggles with these antique
surroundings are cut short, though, when I am led to the left and into another room.
It is exactly as I expected the centre to be. Completely pristine white. From
the walls to the floors, to the ceiling and the lights which grip it,
everything reeks with a bright, colourless gleam. Even the footsteps of
white-coated staff-members ring with a colourless tone. It’s so unnerving, I
have to fight a shiver which itches up my spine, and my escort, a young man
with dark hair to match the black clothing he wears beneath his white lab coat,
frowns at me as if I’m doing something wrong.</span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"> I wonder if I should speak to him,
ask a little bit about the centre, but it feels wrong to break such a perfectly
undisturbed silence, so I keep my mouth shut and let the ground absorb my
footsteps as I walk.</span></h4>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-47683523891431736402013-04-29T23:29:00.000+01:002013-04-29T23:29:15.126+01:00The [real] SynopsisIt has come to my attention that the Golden God, Derek Landy has written and released the synopsis for his latest novel, <i>Last Stand of Dead Men</i>. You are probably fearing the death and the destruction which will be featured in the eighth addition to the <i>Skulduggery Pleasant</i> series, yes?<br />
<div>
And while you are right to be, I feel the need to point out that Mr Landy's summary of the book is not accurate.<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Here, I give you, the <i><b>REAL</b> </i>synopsis.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 115%;">Last
Stand of Dead Men:</span></i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">War has finally come.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">But it's not a war between good and evil, or light and dark-
it's a war between Unicorns. For too long now, the Irish Unicorns have teetered on the brink of world-ending disaster, and the other Unicorns around the world have had enough. People turn to Unicorns, socks turn to Unicorns, and Skulduggery
and Valkyrie must team up with the rest of the non-Unicorn-beings if
they're going to have any chance at all of maintaining the balance of power and
getting to the root of a vast Unicorn Sub-culture that has
been years in the making.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">But while this war is only beginning, another Unicorn is on the verge of rising to the surface. And if
Valkyrie slips, even for a moment, then Unicorns will tacklehug the world and
everyone in it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(I wrote a few of these, much by accident, really. It was a lot of fun. I think my favourite involved rabbits, but I dig unicorns, too. I'm considering making a small project out of it, but there's still plenty of time for that...)</span></span></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-59710982707060458172013-04-25T21:41:00.000+01:002013-04-25T21:41:53.983+01:00Consider:<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="text-indent: 0cm;">We are none of us innocent.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
We all make mistakes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
We say things we shouldn’t,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
And raise the stakes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
We each have our flaws,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
They’re what set us apart,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
But hold us together,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
By mind and by heart.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
We all take irritation,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
From many different factors,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
And some of these stimuli</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
May operate reactors</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
We can weild our differences</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
And throw them at our throats</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
Shave away at imperfections,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
But think what this denotes</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
We could just as well indulge</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
In seeking out those upper sides</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 58.5pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
And we may not fall
so hard</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
When individuality collides</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
We can take a course for betterment</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
And hold our heads alive,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
Keeping upsides next to downsides</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
In the characters we drive</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-26979356900780254442013-04-22T22:09:00.000+01:002013-04-22T22:09:11.794+01:00DetestableThere are things that I say, do, or don't do, that can just have me hate myself over and over again.<br />
One of these things, in struggles between what is right and what is wrong, not only do I give up, but I run.<br />
Because when there is no right answer, I suppose the only real wrong is to not answer at all.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am pathetic,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don’t deny this,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s true,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stand in the shadows,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You don’t see me,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t let you</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You say you’re going to leave</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Still, you don’t see me,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I slip away, unnoticed,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t stop,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t persuade,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t care;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I do.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I care,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My actions fail to show this,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I care</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And they care,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You care,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But still you say this,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I do nothing,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s not my actions that fail to help;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s me.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-53444172875156892382013-04-07T17:50:00.000+01:002013-04-07T17:53:03.165+01:00Waiting for the Rain to Fall<span style="font-size: x-small;">It's been far too long since it last rained. Granted, it snowed a whole lot, a couple of weeks back, and that's still lingering on the ground, but it's not the same. I miss the rain. It's nice. It works with writing, somehow. Now the weather's just still, and I find it hard to get my brain flowing. Anyway, I put some thoughts onto paper- I think the result has some issues with flowing, too, but hopefully that's something I can work on, at least. :)</span><br />
<br />
The persistent sun breaks through the blind<br />
And lights the notes I fail to write<br />
I stare too solid at my pen<br />
Until I'm waiting for the rain to fall again<br />
<br />
I can rack my brain so hard<br />
I'll feel my frontal lobe is scarred<br />
So I'll forget the things I've said<br />
And be left waiting for the rain to fall again<br />
<br />
With the liquid pounding glass<br />
I feel the words expand like gas<br />
Forming clouds around my head<br />
So my thoughts cannot be read<br />
<br />
If I can't see things disconnect<br />
Then I've nothing to correct<br />
So I'll sit and carry on<br />
Without a worry that the rain will stop<br />
<br />
But the sun evaporates the fall<br />
And throws its light upon us all<br />
I can't relish this terrain<br />
So I'm left waiting for the rain to fall again.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-45967541287584912282013-03-08T23:54:00.001+00:002013-03-08T23:55:51.437+00:00Do You Understand?People seem to believe<br />
Without an extra thought<br />
That perfect means flawless<br />
<br />
I prefer to believe<br />
That the contrary is true<br />
That perfect means problems<br />
<br />
People should believe<br />
With problems and shortcomings<br />
That perfect means acceptance<br />
<br />
I'd like you to believe<br />
That if you accept what you are<br />
Then perfect means you<br />
<br />
Do you understand?<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-84488752803750725222013-03-07T20:40:00.000+00:002013-03-07T20:43:50.950+00:00Damnesia<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Forced from home by noise and alarm,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Unwanted intermissions induce fists full of harm,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Your workspace is packed up, transported away,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">To a refuge of safety in words you could say,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Or write, or dictate, or just tumble around,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Specifics aren't something to worry about,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">You reach your asylum, open your work,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Devastation clouds eyes like handfuls of dirt,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Between distraction and refuge something is lost,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Taken from homeland and bluntly forgot,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">It will never be finished, an idea not explored,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">You are left feeling hopeless and homeless and torn.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"><br /></span>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-13642572899362785062013-02-08T21:55:00.000+00:002013-02-08T21:55:43.991+00:00Lockdown<div class="MsoNormal">
Batten the hatches, close down the doors,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wind up the windows and tape down the floors,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lock up for lockdown, swivel a key,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Scaffold the ceiling generously,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Light bulbs like onions spin hazardous wool,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Into lines of ‘tales are too eventful’,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tables and chairs are not so alike,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As to fit in the space between shadow and light,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If paper makes parachutes, I’m okay to crash,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Into wires and lenses, from take-offs to ash,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Colours of cuboids stand solid, robust,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But they sink in the oceans with lies and mistrust,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Piles of peppers set fire to ice,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While dust rains through archways, if words might suffice,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Brainwaves and centuries alike and alone,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Within earsight and eyeshot, complexion takes throne,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Notable spotlights burn out in the skies,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sautéing galaxies and pigs who pass by,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Calligraphic sentences to prison and life,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Are why they aspire to bullet or knife,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If poorly sliced vision offers sense of regret,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then my clearly cut intake performs as offset,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Letters and numbers, painting concept,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Give me hours of practice, so I’m ever inept,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Broken guitar strings can always be played,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If numbers of equality can always be made,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And while rubber ducks swim in kitchenware sinks,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There’ll be locks drawn on doors with India ink,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And noting the tone of this graphite voice,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Comes a pen with an eagle to signify choice,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Beneath layers of lifetimes and deathtimes galore,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sits a torn strip of sellotape on travertine floor.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">I am struggling over the meaning of <i>most</i> of this, and a part of me just wants to sit and analyse it verse by verse, line by line, <i>and </i>word by word. I wrote the first line; the rest followed with relative ease, and little attention to what I was actually putting down there. "<i>Hoorah! for fun and not revising things~"</i> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-68525789584789552782013-02-05T21:58:00.001+00:002013-02-05T21:58:53.336+00:00The World is Growing Smaller<span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">The universe always expands,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">And with it the world will grow,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">But I cannot comprehend this change,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">With each passing day there's increasingly less,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">For me, the world grows smaller.</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Time progresses, </span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Stretches out,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">I stay within doors and laze about,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">My brainwaves attenuate,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">For me, the world grows smaller</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">A song will pass into the charts,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Another joins, "A work of art",</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">They're all the same,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">There is no change,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">For me, the world grows smaller</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">The fish will swim into the glass,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Until the shoddy bowl will crack,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Her world floods out onto the floor,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">It's a whole new place but she won't live,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Her life is falling shorter,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Her world is growing smaller</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Bigfoot hangs inside his home,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">A jagged, rocky, mountain dome,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">The tracks of trains must pass on by,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">"Let's blow the mountainside sky-high",</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">The walls collapse, Bigfoot is trapped,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">His cave has tumbled under,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">His world is growing smaller</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">The letters used in every book,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Passing as a major look,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">They feel the same,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">There's nothing new,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">For me, the world grows smaller</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">The echoes of an ancient age,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Forgotten within the human rage,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">The eyes of all forget to see,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">What has, what was, what used to be,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Ideas grow, but logic shrinks,</span><br style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: #fffffa; color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">For me, the world grows smaller.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #2c3635; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 19.5px;">An old-ish piece of writing, posted on dA, before I thought "Hm. What about that lonely blog of yours, then?" It was built mostly from reflective/conceptual thoughts, I think, and, as I recall, it hit a <i>completely</i> seperate idea to what I'd been aiming for, but, meh. So, that's another few-month-old poem which hasn't been lucky enough to sit through re-vision. :P Good day.</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-55109983028115210082013-01-21T20:07:00.000+00:002013-01-21T21:20:26.207+00:00Alice...I realise I've been absent, and don't quite have the time/effort to write something.<br />
<div>
<b>However, </b>I've come across something I wrote one night, a few months ago. I'm not quite sure how much of it is accurate, and/or makes sense, but I feel some urge to <i>not</i> change it, in any way (Probably known otherwise as laziness. :P).</div>
<div>
Here, for general amusement, or something of the sort, I give you 'Alice...'.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The time will come when I must slay</div>
<div>
The Jabberwock on Frabjous Day</div>
<div>
I am quite unsure that I will go ahead</div>
<div>
With sending it to his fiery bed</div>
<div>
But, alas, I have no choice</div>
<div>
They will believe only <i>the</i> Alice's voice</div>
<div>
And so along I will wander</div>
<div>
A-finding many a-things to ponder</div>
<div>
Including the youngest baby pig</div>
<div>
And the queen's follower's preposterous wig</div>
<div>
Flamingoes and hedgehogs to play croquet</div>
<div>
A game which will not last the day</div>
<div>
Until come the Red Queen's court to see</div>
<div>
Who her majesty's jam tart did steal</div>
<div>
The poor court frog with wife and kids</div>
<div>
His head now floats in castle's ditch</div>
<div>
And poor March Hare with guests so great</div>
<div>
Who all arrive so terribly late</div>
<div>
And the maddest hatter you ever did see</div>
<div>
But travel by hat is such a treat</div>
<div>
You cannot simply miss it out</div>
<div>
For it is the most practical way to go about</div>
<div>
The whitest rabbit who searched so hard</div>
<div>
To find he had chosen the incorrect card</div>
<div>
I am not <i>the</i> Alice, as they do say</div>
<div>
And no Jabberwock will I ever slay</div>
<div>
But the Cheshire Cat will not ever let off</div>
<div>
Until its head is well cut off</div>
<div>
And rolling down the cold stone steps</div>
<div>
Stopping finally the queen-caused deaths</div>
<div>
So what little choice do I have to make</div>
<div>
But this crazy wonderland path to take?</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-34529120016836113372012-09-02T00:34:00.000+01:002012-09-02T00:34:06.038+01:00Just, please.<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I
know it's hard,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">It's
harder than hell,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">But
I need you to breathe,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Need
you to be well,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I
know that it hurts,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Like
I could never understand,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">But
I need you to think,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I
need you to land,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I
know that you're stuck,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">In
the depth and the dark,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">But
I need you to stop,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Can
you place down your mark?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Can
you stop for a moment,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">And
look deep through the scars,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Through
the pain and the hurt,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">To
the sky and the stars?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">And
I need you to know,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">That
that rainbow is you,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">But
you need to be loved,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">And
love you I do,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I
need you to realise,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">That
you're better than life,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">But
you don't need the bullet,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">You
don't need the knife.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">What
you need is the knowledge,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">To
know that you're great,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">That
you're brilliant and wonderful,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">And
it's never too late,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Too
late to realise,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Too
late to believe,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Just
open your eyes,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Just
let yourself see,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I
need you to notice,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">That
high above all,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">You
can pull yourself up,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">So
it's okay to fall,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Please,
take the notice,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">When
I write out these words,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">That
they're all meant for you,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">That
they need to be heard,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">And
I know it's not easy,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">When
you're down past your knees,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">But
I'll help you back up,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">If
you'll only let me,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Please.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-15432439534899110972012-08-31T14:23:00.001+01:002012-08-31T14:23:53.204+01:00The Sentence On The Top Floor<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The letters on the walls of the room on the top floor of the
West End tenement building join together, to create one sentence:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Chiller; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lest we forget
the power in words<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is scrawled deep into the plaster, the same sentence, over and
over again, filling every possible space, etching itself into your mind as you
take it in. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Chiller; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lest we forget
the power in words<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once it’s there, it’s never going to leave you. Like a leech
that’ll never let go, draining a little space of your memory which you won’t
ever get back. The spidery etchings swallow you, carve you out and then leave
you hollow and colder than stone, shivering and unable to think of anything but
that one sentence.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Chiller; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lest we forget
the power in words<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is no escape. Don’t think you can just run, because you can’t;
the words clutch you, stapling you painfully to the ground. And you can’t look
away from it, at the floor, because it’s also there, engraved on the concrete.
Or up, at the ceiling, because it’s somehow been written up there, too. Closing
your eyes won’t help at all, because the image is still present, right at the
front of your mind. Over and over,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Chiller; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lest we forget
the power in words<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All that can be done is to take it in, reading the same seven
words until somebody realises you’re missing and eventually finds you, by which
time you could be half starved. Or worse. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The weirdest part, though, is that, although it throws its whole
self at you, all at once, you still don’t know what it is. It’s like half of
the sentence is missing; it doesn’t mean anything. There is no sense behind it.
It has been there for longer than anyone has known. Contact had even been made
with the original builders and decorators of the building, demanding to know
why the top floor was flooded with words. Of course, they knew as little about
it as the owners of the place did.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There have been attempts to remove it, cover it, hide it, but no
such thing is possible if one cannot move from the spot in which he is stood.
Therefore, the writing remains on the walls of the room, and even though it is now
forbidden to enter, people are still stumbling inside on a relatively regular
basis.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I, myself, am not excluded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Seven times, now, I have found my way into that room. One visit
for each word, as many individuals have begun to state. How exactly I ended up
there each time, even I still struggle to completely understand. Twice, I was
accompanying a group of friends, too busy daydreaming to realise where I was
going; Once, I was told that it couldn’t have an effect on me <i>again</i>; Another time I was carried there
by a group of peers while I slept, and upon waking up, was suddenly hit by a
solid wave of words. Once I was drowsy from an anaesthetic, and managed to
forget the way to the correct apartment, which was, above all, rather
embarrassing. On another occasion, I went to rescue another person, but ended
up stuck there with him, instead. And
the last time I entered, I was lonely. The most familiar thing I could be with
at the time was the sentence which had lived inside my mind for so many years
already, so I went up and let it wash over me, let the ocean of words swallow
me whole. And though it hurt, as it always does, it was almost sort of <i>enjoyable</i> to feel so close to something,
as I never have before. Or since.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of course, it is dangerous. Of course, I could have died, had I
not been found and saved, each time. I had plenty of people to remind me of
that, each of the seven times I had been up there, and many more reminders
aside.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But there is a danger in everything; we must just learn to live
around it. And that is exactly what the people have done. We put up with the
buzz of words at the back of our heads, do the best we can to ignore it, and to
prevent others from having to suffer from it. The world continues to turn,
people continue to work, to talk, to rest, the plants continue to grow, and the
top floor remains a mystery which everybody tries their very best to avoid.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I turn the last corner of the fourth staircase and duck into the
left corridor. I say corridor, but since there are only two doors, it’s really
not worthy of such a title. I unclip a key from the belt loop of my jeans, slot
it into the gold-coloured lock on the right door, twist my wrist and push
forwards with my shoulder. With a little effort, the door swings open and I
yank the key free before stepping inside and slamming it shut behind me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s force like that which makes it difficult to open in the
first place, Andi.” An exasperated voice comes from across the room. I look, to
see my mother sat at the table, not looking up from the A4 notebook in front of
her. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sorry,” I sigh, slinging my bag into a corner and setting all
navigation targets for the fridge. I pull the electronic plugs from my ears and
hit the off switch on the device in my pocket, before swinging open the fridge
door and peering at the contents. I frown at the lack of food, and pull an
orange juice carton from a shelf in the lower door, setting it aside on the
worktop. I turn around, letting the door swing shut of its own accord, and,
taking a glass from the rack by the sink, I turn back, just in time to see the
orange carton tip over the edge of the worktop, and hit the ground with an
unsatisfactory <i>thud</i>. Hurriedly, I
whip a cloth from the surface and replace it with the glass, which spins
uncontrollably and almost tips, too. Cursing under my breath, I catch the glass
and steady it on the worktop, before lowering myself to the ground, lifting the
upset carton and mopping up the orange mess on the floor. Behind me, the tap
drips slowly, and I stand up, dropping the cloth beside the sink and pushing
the tap to halt, wondering how long it had been like that. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Letting out another sigh, I pour the remaining orange juice into
the glass, leave the empty carton on the counter and walk over to the table
where my mother is still sat, gazing down at the notebook. As I approach her, I
look at the notebook to see that it is blank, without so much as a dot of ink
on it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not going too well?” I ask, taking a swig from the glass in my
hand, and walking towards some cupboards at the far end of the room. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No,” She sighs, in reply, “Not too well at all, Andi...”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I open the doors of one of the cupboards and retrieve a large,
leather-bound book, cringing slightly as the other volumes on the shelf topple
sideways into the gap I’d left.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My mother sighs to herself, tapping her pen against the paper, and
I return to the table, sliding the book across the oak surface towards her.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At this, she looks up and frowns for a second, before her furrowed
eyebrows rise and the skin beside her eyes crinkle with the smile her lips curl
into. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s an old story, the dictionary. Once, way back when Matthaios
was no taller than this table, I only a little taller than that, my mother was
sitting in a chair, watching the fire burn away, and sighing every so often,<i> </i>until eventually Thaios quietly asked
her what was the matter. Our mother had sighed quietly and gave him a weak
smile, before replying,<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
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"I've
run out of words, Math." She'd said, "It's like there's not another
one left in me." And she looked back to the fire again, shaking her head
sadly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
The days
following this, Matthaios fell as quiet as mother had, and I'd begun to worry
about both of them, when Matt came to me with a request.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He
asked me to take him out to the town, the next day, and I'd asked him why, because
it's not easy to get to town, and would any of the smaller shops closer to the
flat do, instead? But he insisted that the shops nearby didn't have what he
needed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
"Well,
what is it that you need?" I'd replied, but he wouldn't say a thing but
that 'it's for mother'. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
Eventually,
that weekend, I took him out on the hour-long walk into the town, and asked him
where it was he wanted to go. He led me into a bookshop, and spent a long time
at the back of the shop, while I looked through art supplies and gift cards and
pens and pencils and notebooks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
Eventually,
he emerged from the back, walking slowly and obviously struggling to hold up a
huge, black, leather-bound book.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
I frowned at him but he just frowned back.
"It's for mother," he said, and I gave a little sigh, but the
expression on his face swept that away, and I shot him a grin. "Oh,
alright, then.” I said, taking the book from his arms. It <i>was </i>heavy. "And I suppose you'll be wanting me to carry this
all the way back, for you too, eh?" The grin spread on my face, teasingly,
but he just shook his head, eyes wide. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
"No."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
I
frowned again, but said nothing, carried the book to the till, and paid for it
with the money I'd earned from my first week of tending the tenement library.
As soon as we'd left the shop, Thaios had taken the book from me, and struggled
with it the whole walk back, refusing to let me take it when I offered. By the
time we arrived home, evening had set and mother was working slowly and silently
in the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
Matthaios
disappeared into his own room with the book, and didn't come out until the
midway through the next day, except to eat. When he finally emerged, mother was
sat on a chair, with a pencil and a notebook untouched on the low table in
front of her. Thaios approached her, slowly, and held out the book with both
hands. She looked down at him, lips slightly parted, brow furrowed a little,
and eyes moist. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
"It's
a dictionary," He'd said, "To help you find more words." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
And she
smiled, then, a real smile, for the first time in days. She took the book from him, turned it over in
her hands, opened it up and flicked through the pages, taking it in, before
setting it down on her lap, and pulling her arms around Thaios, embracing him
in a hug. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And
then, she picked the notebook and the pencil from the table, put one to the other,
and began to write in slow, graceful loops and folds, each letter flowing into
the next, in the elegant fashion of beauty and the flat filled slowly with the heart-warming
sensation that can only be felt by watching her write, watching those letters
join to words which flow into sentences, separated by paragraphs and eventually
all joining together to become a story. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
And
that's just what she does now, taking her pen and spilling the ink out of it in
beautiful patterns and perfectly executed letters, the words suddenly coming straight
back to her, and as she finds her flow of writing again, I turn and walk into
the next room, sipping my orange juice contentedly.<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-62286621162684044702012-08-27T18:10:00.002+01:002012-08-30T18:33:42.069+01:00A Possible Renovation.<i>When something is broken, </i><br />
<div>
<i>And you try to fix it, </i></div>
<div>
<i>Trying to repair it, </i></div>
<div>
<i>Any way you can. </i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
I think this Blog is a little broken.</div>
<div>
So, how can I repair it, eh?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Honestly, I just don't see another part of this FanFic appearing, and I don't see why I should try to pretend that I'm going to write any more of it. Because I'm just <i>not</i>.<br />
That's not to say I won't be writing any more, I'll just have to come up with something else to write.<br />
<br />
So, to those of you who might be reading this, what do <i style="font-weight: bold;">you</i> think?<br />
If what I was to be writing wasn't all so much as one story, but as random sections and scenes, would that still be readable/understandable?<br />
Or if was to open up a couple of different stories, so when I'm all out of fuel on one, I could take a look at one of the others, standing by? (I suppose if I were to do that, I could have different sections and such within the Blog, for each story?)<br />
Or both?<br />
Too Complicated?<br />
<br />
What do you think? Any opinions? Answers? Suggestions? </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-31261005997873888582012-05-13T17:34:00.001+01:002012-08-30T18:32:30.448+01:00Chapter 4.<span style="font-size: x-small;">I apologise in advance if Valkyrie's character isn't quite up to scratch, nearer the beginning of the chapter. You'll just have to accept that fights leave her in a good mood. P:</span><br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;">4.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;">Dead Man Walking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The detectives simultaneously
clicked their fingers, and angry balls of flames appeared, flickering in the
palm of their hands for a second, before being hurled at the opponent and being
replaced with another fireball.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The muscular men facing the
detectives were doing their best to dodge the fireballs that were flying
towards them, smothering the fire that did hit them, and putting out the flames
before they had the chance to spread.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Suddenly, she became aware of the
shadows in the alley, they seeming to be shifting, stretching, and rushing
towards Valkyrie’s feet. Valkyrie was no longer throwing fire. The shadows continued,
crawling up her arm, lingering at her fingertips. She drew back her arm, before
throwing it in front of her, a whip of darkness bowling her enemy off his feet.
Another tendril of shadows shot forwards and pinned him there, and she took a
step towards him, intending to end their battle.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The thin man was back to physical
contact now, hurling punches and kicks, before catching his foe in a chokehold.
And then it was over.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Seven powerfully built men now
lay, limp and unresponsive, on cracked concrete. Valkyrie turned, catching
sight of Taia. “Skulduggery,” She called, not moving her gaze from Taia,
“Somebody may need to have a word with Geoffrey.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Taia gasped as the thin man,
Skulduggery, turned to face her. Valkyrie clamped a hand over her mouth.
Skulduggery frowned. Or at least, he would have frowned, were his face not
hanging by a thread, torn diagonally between his eyes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Valkyrie exploded into laughter,
Skulduggery looked at her, bemused, and Taia stared, fish-eyed, at the torn wax
skin that bordered an immaculately clean, white, human skull.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Don’t worry,” The man called
Skulduggery gestured to Valkyrie, who lay curled up on the floor, still
laughing. “She’ll be back to her annoying self in no time.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Time passed. The laughter,
however, did not. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Okay, I have one girl unable to
breathe, and another unable to take her eyes off me.” He paused, “The second
one can be justified. My looks are undeniably amazing.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Between gales of laughter,
Valkyrie managed to force out some words. “Skulduggery, I... I don’t think
you... realise...” Another wave of laughter flooded over her. “She’s definitely
looking at your face... but not... not why you’d think...”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“What’s wrong with my face?” He
asked, confused.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Valkyrie tossed her mobile phone
to him, and he peered at the reflection of himself. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Ah.” He paused, “This could take
some explaining.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Valkyrie managed to stop
laughing, caught her breath and stood up. “You think Geoffrey Scrutinous would
explain it well?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Hmm? Oh, maybe.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“What?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“What what?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“You’re thinking.” She tilted her
head. “What are you thinking?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I’m thinking, she reminds me of
you, when I first broke down the door of your late uncle’s house.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Valkyrie glared at him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“And if she is <i>anything</i> like you, she won’t just let
this go.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Not even if she talks to
Scrutinous?” Valkyrie asked hopefully.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Would you have given up?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“No, but... But she’s not me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Taia sighed. “Look, would you
just tell me what’s going on?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Ah,” Skulduggery hesitated.
“This isn’t my real face.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Yeah, I got that.” She said,
blankly. “I was thinking of the fire. The fire and the shadows.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Ah.” Skulduggery cocked his
head, thinking. “We’re just figments of your imagination?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A groan sounded at Taia’s feet
and she slammed her boot into the offender’s head, sending the hefty man back
to sleep. “As is he, I suppose.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Skulduggery sighed and turned to
Valkyrie “See, just like you. Doesn’t believe a word I say.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Shrugging, Valkyrie responded.
“Get better at lying then.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I’m a great liar” Skulduggery
retorted.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“And get rid of the façade, it’s
not exactly <i>useful</i> anymore.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Right.” Skulduggery tapped his
collar bones and the tattered remains of his face subsided, before disappearing
completely, leaving only a skull, with a black hat settled at the top, like
icing on a cake.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Taia blinked. “You’re a
skeleton.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Yes, I am.” Skulduggery replied,
crouching down to shackle one of six unconscious men.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“And you can talk.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Again, yes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“That’s pretty remarkable.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I am, rather, aren’t I?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“It’s also pretty impossible.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Well, you’d think so, wouldn’t
you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“So, how does it work?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Skulduggery was now shackling the
fourth man. “Magic.” He said, blankly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“No,” Taia shook her head,
“Seriously, how does it work?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Can you think of any other
reasonable explanation?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She hesitated. “Fine. And the
shadows and fire, they’re magic too?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Correct.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“So, are you alive?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Not really.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“You’re dead, then?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
He hesitated. “Not exactly...”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“So, you’re more, kind of,
undead.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Well, yes but–”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“You’re a Zombie.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“No, I’m not a–”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“He’s a magical detective.”
Valkyrie muttered. “No more, no less.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Then what <i>are</i> you?” Taia asked, ignoring Valkyrie completely.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I’m a skeleton.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“We’ve been through this part
already.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Ah, yes.” Skulduggery said,
before pausing. “Valkyrie, I appear to be out of shackles.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She shrugged. “You’ve used mine
already.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Skulduggery cocked his head.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“One hand each?” Taia suggested</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Sorry?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“One hand each. That way they
won’t be fully bound, but they’ll all be partially held back, so you can take
them down again easily enough.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Skulduggery nodded. “Good idea.
And as a bonus, it will still keep them bound from using magic.” He looked at
her, and Taia guessed that if he had a face, he might be smiling. “Maybe you’re
not so much like Valkyrie, after all.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
His companion scowled. “What’s <i>that</i> supposed to mean?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Well, unlike <i>you</i> were, she is still thinking
straight.” He told her, removing the shackles from one man’s left hand, and
putting it around another’s right hand. “<i>And
</i>she hasn’t fainted yet,” He added.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Valkyrie scowled even more, and
more still when Taia began to laugh.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“You fainted?” She asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I was attacked by a man who had
jumped through the window, saved by a man who blasted down the door, and
abruptly threw fire at the first man, who turned into a human fireball before
being shot by the fire-throwing man who turned out to be a skeleton.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“So you were attacked by a man,
and then witnessed magic used by a man who turned out to be a skeleton.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Yes.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Sounds very similar to what
happened <i>here; </i>except that I was
attacked by <i>three</i> men, witnessed <i>two</i> people throw fireballs, and one
person flinging <i>shadows</i>. <i>And</i> someone turned out to be a
skeleton.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“She has a point.” Skulduggery
chimed in.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Valkyrie scowled again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Doesn’t that hurt?” Skulduggery
asked, gesturing to Taia’s arm.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Until then, she’d forgotten all
about it. “No.” She replied. “Wait, yes. Yes it does.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-48066816952200458042012-04-24T19:36:00.002+01:002012-08-30T18:32:45.870+01:00Chapter 3.<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;">3.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Surprises.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The thin man turned to the girl,
still crouched on the floor, and gestured for her to come over. The girl walked
past, not giving Taia so much as another look, and stood beside the man, head
tilted slightly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Our thirteen year old is obviously tougher
than she looks.” He began, in that velvet smooth voice, “I can’t find a pulse”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The girl frowned. “He’s not dead.”
She told him, “The ring isn’t cold.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Ah, well then, we have a
problem.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“We usually get one of those.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Hmm, I’ve noticed that too.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“So, how do we solve this
problem?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“The same way we solve every
other problem”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Kicking people very hard in the
face?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Possibly. But first we need to
ask questions”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The girl sagged, “But kicking is
more fun,”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Questions first, then kicking.”
He looked up at her, “I promise,”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The girl didn’t reply.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Extra kicking then. And you can throw a few
punches too, if you like.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Fine,” she sighed, “Who do we
talk to?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Our first source, would be the
bad guy, but he’s not alive. So–” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“He’s not dead either.” The girl
pointed out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Correct. So we talk to the next
best person. The one who killed him. Or didn’t kill him.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Would she fall under that
category?” The girl suggested, tilting her head towards Taia.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Yes.” The man got to his feet,
“She certainly would.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Taia stood, somewhat amused by
the conversation, as the pair approached her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“What did you do to him?” The man
asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Nothing. I just hit him a few
times.” She paused, before correcting herself, “Many times.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Yet we find ourselves in this
perplexing situation. It’d save a lot of time if you told us why this is.” The
man’s voice was suggestive, yet firm. He knew what he was talking about. “You
can get to work building a house from cardboard boxes, and we can get to work
kicking people very hard in the face.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“The quicker you tell us, the
quicker we get to kick people. And the kicking is fun.” The girl added.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I’m not sure you’re
interrogating the right person here, Sherlock,” Taia’s gaze was locked onto the
man’s imperfect eyes. Her gaze travelled down, just a little, and she noticed
that his skin didn’t look right, either. It had a slightly waxy appearance.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Then who <i>should</i> I be interrogating?” He asked blankly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “But
my first guess would be <i>them</i>”. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The detectives turned
simultaneously, and froze, as three muscular men leapt from the rooftops. They
were hooded, but Taia could tell from their postures that they weren’t happy.
They stepped forward silently, eyes somewhere between the ground and the three
people looking back them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“<i>Now</i> can we kick people?” The girl asked her companion, her voice
poisoned with sarcasm.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Yes, Valkyrie, now we kick
people.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Two men leaped at the detectives,
who immediately began throwing punches and kicks, while the third went for
Taia. He swung his right arm at her face but she was prepared and ducked
beneath it, only to crash into the left, which had been hiding in ambush.
Grunting, she pushed her own fist into his gut, another racing to his face as
he doubled over. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She aimed another set of knuckles
at his nose, but it was stopped short of its target by a rock solid shape that
closed around her wrist and twisted until a <i>crack</i>
was heard. The man withdrew his hand, before sending it to her face as she
clutched her injured arm. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
More fists flew at her face and she
pulled up her hand to block her face, biting back the agonizing pain that was
writhing up her left arm. It became clear that her hands were not enough when
she found herself on the floor, the man looming above her, sending his feet full
speed at her useless body. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
From the corner of her eye, Taia
could just about make out the fights of the detectives. She could have sworn
she saw the red-orange glow of fire, but dismissed it as pain impeding her
vision, as the man’s feet stopped and he leaned down, reaching to pin her to
the floor. Taking a deep breath, putting the pain to the back of her mind, and
mustering up all of her negative emotions, from the day she last saw her
father, to the happenings just seconds ago, she converted it to anger, which
flooded her mind, pushing energy through her veins, giving her a fresh rush of
power, which accompanied her blood as it surged through her body. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She lashed out, fists, knees,
elbows, and feet attacking the man until he fell. She threw punch after punch
to his chin, each blow throwing his chin back a little further than the
previous one. Eventually, the man fell. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She was still pinned to the
ground, but at least now the man keeping her there was unconscious. All she had
to do was get free. She pushed, kicked and rolled, but he was too heavy. The
man wasn’t budging. She looked around, desperately, and caught sight of her
jacket, which was still laid on the floor, where her first opponent had left
it. It wasn’t far from her, and if she could just reach it she would definitely
have the help that she needed. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She reached out with one arm,
attempting to shuffle a little closer to the jacket. Her outstretched arm
wasn’t far from the jacket now, just a little farther. Heavy footsteps echoed
around her and she looked up to see another man, sprinting towards the
detectives. He didn’t even seem to notice Taia or the unconscious man pinning
her to the ground, until he was falling, balance upset by the bodies that had
tripped him up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Suddenly, Taia was free, and the
other man was lying unconscious beside her. She leapt up, just in time to see
the man who had tripped return to his feet, too. She ducked beneath his
punches, and past elbows, returning her own, having now found the energy that
she needed. She found the rhythm of the man’s attacks and worked to intercept
it. Thinking about it, this man fought in a way which was very similar, if not
the same, to how the previous man had. Throw all of your weight into each
punch, keep them fluent, stop for nothing. They both focused primarily on using
fists and feet, showing a distinct lack of elbows and attempts at holds of any
sort. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Once she’d figured this out, the
fight became even easier, and the man was soon out cold, alongside his
companion.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Taia stepped back and wiped the
blood from her face. She remembered her jacket, still lying on the floor, and
went to retrieve it. Pulling her arms through the sleeves she started towards
the detectives, who were both still battling their own attackers. She began to
run, not yet sure which man she’d help take down, but was stopped dead in her
tracks when they changed their method of fighting. For it was no longer punches
that they were throwing, but fire.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
҉
҉
҉<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">P.S. Sorry about the wait. But I have Chapter 4 written up, because originally, it was all one chapter. But I thought it was a nice place to end, so meh. I'll have Chapter 4 up soon. :)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">P.P.S. Thanks for reading. :D</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-45250174768122745742012-04-04T10:49:00.000+01:002012-08-30T18:32:54.562+01:00Chapter 2.<span style="font-size: xx-small;">*whispers* Sorry it's been a few months, but now, a second chapter is born. And posted. So, yeah, here it is.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">2.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Mouldy Pastry and a Muscular Man.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Often, Taia would wake up early in the morning and groan, not wanting to get up. It wasn’t because she wanted to keep warm or because she wanted to sleep for longer like any normal teenager, but simply because she had no <i>reason</i> to get up, and nothing to look forward to. Yet, although she wasn’t entirely sure why, she didn’t think she’d like her life if it were any different. In a way, she rather enjoyed wandering around, fending for herself, eating and sleeping wherever and whenever she chose to, it seemed to give a certain <i>twist</i> to life that couldn’t be experienced through any other way. It wasn’t so good that it made her smile, but it was still a relatively nice sensation and that was enough for her. She didn’t wish for much in particular either, she made friends when she found them, but eventually she would lose them every time. Humans weren’t her only friends though, she’d met some surprisingly friendly animals - mainly rats - in her lifetime, the one she’d shared dinner with the previous night being one of them. Often, the rats were the better friends.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Which was why, when she was woken by the sound of gunshot and pounding footsteps, and when, a few moments later a tall, hefty man ran past, knocking over the bins and boxes that made up her home and scattering them along the alleyway and then planted his foot firmly in her rat-friend’s back, that she grew rather angry and decided to put up a fight.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The man continued running, as if nothing had happened, but Taia wasn’t going to let him get away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Hey!” She shouted, throwing a half-eaten sausage roll at him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The man didn’t reply. He didn’t look back at her. He just continued to run.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Hey!” Taia repeated, louder, “What are you playing at?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Again, he ignored her. And Taia really disliked being ignored. She shook her head angrily before running after him, throwing more pieces of soggy pastry. She wasn’t the best runner in the world, she knew that, but when she had a good enough reason to do so, she could run. Kind of. Taia’s running consisted of the mad and very fast flailing of random limbs and hoping that’d be quicker that walking. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Realising she wasn’t going to be fast enough, she stopped, sighing, and lobbed a large, and exceptionally mouldy piece of pastry at him, and then grinned as she saw it fall through the air, meeting his eye level right where their paths crossed and she tried hard not to laugh as face and pastry met. Snarling, he turned to her, and she had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing as she saw furry pieces of pastry falling from his face. But then her eyes saw more than just the pastry and her smile dropped, for she had realised for the first time just how muscular this guy was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Aw, hell...” She muttered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The man leaped at her and took her to the floor, firing punches at her face. She needed him to stop or she’d be out before she’d even had the chance to strike, and she had a strange feeling that he wasn’t going to be happy just leaving her unconscious. She’d met people like this before - if she gave him the chance, he would kill her. She wriggled, trying to break free but he was too strong and his punches were still flying at her face. She began to flail desperately in an attempt to hit him. Eventually, her foot hit something other than floor and air, and the punches stopped momentarily. Taking her chance, Taia twisted, jabbing her elbow into his side and then bringing her legs up, kicking him in the groin.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The man doubled over, grunting, and Taia slammed her foot into his face. He staggered back, trying to regain his balance. She ran forward, jumped, flipped, and landed behind him. He turned, swinging his leg out, but it was too late and Taia leapt, slamming into him and sending him toppling backwards. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
In any other fight, the opponent would be on the floor and Taia would be kicking his head so hard it wouldn’t be far from flying off his body, but as it was, and Taia wasn’t sure how, but the man stayed standing. Taia jumped to the side as he charged towards her, but he twisted at the last second and made a grab for her neck. He missed, pulling off her jacket instead. Growling, he threw it away, and the jacket fell to the ground with a muffled clatter.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The man frowned, looking inquisitively at the coat on the floor, and a boot slammed into his side. He stumbled away, then turned suddenly, and grabbed at her, getting her into a chokehold. Taia squirmed, kicked, and twisted swiftly, and then he was falling, but she grabbed him, and now she had the chokehold. The man tried to break free, but she tightened the hold. He tried to gasp for air, but she made the hold tighter still, and he blacked out. She let go and the man hit the ground with a thud. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She looked down at him, and slammed her foot into his chin a couple of times, knocking his head back, just for good measure. Then she stepped back, stamping on his toe, and looked down at him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She heard more footsteps behind her, and she turned to see two figures running towards her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The first was a tall, thin man, in a navy suit. His clothing seemed to hang shapelessly from his body, and his hat was tilted at an angle, casting shadow over his face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The other was a girl, dressed completely in black, and even from the distance between them Taia could tell that this girl wasn’t much older than she was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The girl, obviously noticing Taia, nudged the thin man who was running beside her, and he nodded, raised both hands and tapped his collar bones, before slipping one hand into a pocket and pulling out a gun. However, when they saw the man on the floor, they slowed and came to a halt in front of Taia.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The man stood still, both arms outstretched, hands holding the gun just a few feet away from her. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Who are you?” He asked her sharply. His voice was solid, strong, yet silky, like velvet, at the same time. Taia frowned, wondering how that was possible.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Who I am is none of your business.” Taia said, her voice just as firm as the man’s “What I would like to know, is who are <i>you</i>?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“If your name is not my business, then why should my name be any of your business?” Taia might have thought he was joking, but he showed no humour in his voice, and the gun didn’t waver.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Taia shrugged. “You’re the one who suddenly barged into my home, and continued messing it up, after the last guy” She gestured to the cardboard boxes strewn about the alleyway.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The dark-haired girl raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. The man, however, remained unmoving, but not quiet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Last time I checked, this alleyway wasn’t owned by a 13 year old girl.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“And when was that?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Never.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I’m struggling to see the logic in what you just said.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“As am I. Now, I’m going to ask again, who are you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I am me. And you are you.” Taia spoke steadily, looking straight into the man’s eyes. There was something odd about them. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but they definitely weren’t <i>ordinary</i>. “Now, I’m going to ask something. Why are you here?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The thin man tilted his head slightly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“We are here for <i>him” </i>he replied gesturing to the unconscious man on the floor. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Well, it seems you’re a little late, does it not?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Not at all. It seems we got here just in time” He turned to his partner, but kept the gun in his hands “Shackles,”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The girl nodded and handed him some handcuffs. The man walked past Taia, knelt down beside the unconscious man, and put them around his wrists, before proceeding to inspect the injuries Taia had given him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“What happened, then?” The girl said, a hint of confusion hanging in her voice.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“He hurt my friend, I hurt him.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Fair enough,” She nodded, “But, I don’t see anyone but you and him. Where’s your friend?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Taia’s hands clenched into fists. “The word ‘friend’ doesn’t necessarily mean <i>human</i>, you know. It appears to be quite a common misconception.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The girl raised an eyebrow. “Did you say you were homeless? It’s just that your vocabulary is pretty good, for a kid living on the streets.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“No, I didn’t say a word about homelessness. It’s true, but it looks like you worked that one out all by yourself.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The dark-haired girl tilted her head. “You don’t like me, do you?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Wow. You worked that one out too.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She nodded. “I do tend to pick up clues; after all, I <i>am</i> a detective.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Thanks For Reading!:D </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-72761221786028947732011-12-08T21:32:00.000+00:002012-08-30T18:33:06.103+01:00Chapter 1.<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 24px; line-height: 27px;">1.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Stealth, Martial Arts, and Discarded Pizza<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For most of her life, Taia had lived on the streets, but although she’d had no real education, her range of vocabulary was astounding, as was her knowledge on some areas of Biology, physics, and various different languages. She knew a fair amount of history, from many different viewpoints, and could point out countries on a globe or a map, if she had a map or a globe to look at. And she wasn’t too bad at maths either, provided the problem didn’t involve multiplication or division, that is. But on the whole, she was pretty clever, for a homeless 13 year old girl, and could probably just about pass as a normal teenage girl, as long as she wasn’t asked to spell anything, of course. But her real skills lay far beyond the national curriculum. Because she had been wandering around the streets since she was five, she had picked up a lot of tips and tricks about how to survive. These tips included various different forms of stealth, self-defence, martial arts, and other ways to beat people senseless, but her favourite was one that she hadn’t learnt from some random person she met on the street who had agreed to teach her (though she didn’t usually leave them much choice) and then added her one twist to it, but one that she had taught herself over many, many years. And on this particular form of aggression, some may even consider her to be a master, but she liked to keep it hidden well, only use it if it was needed. And this time, it most certainly wasn’t.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The man, a scrawny chap, with ragged clothing and an unseemly smirk, posed little threat to a girl of her proficiency. She knew how innocuous she could seem at times – people didn’t tend to expect a thirteen year old to be much of a hazard, after all. And it was obvious that this man was no different to many others – completely unaware of her strength. Taia didn’t like to underestimate her opponents but this time, there was no doubting how easy this was going to be.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She let him take the first strike, flinging an aimless punch at her. She ducked, dropping to the ground, sliding forward and kicking him hard in the shins. He howled and lashed out with his feet, but she dodged expertly and flipped over on to her feet beside him. A fist slammed into his face and he was on the ground before he had even registered his feet being swept from under him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The man groaned. Taia looked down at him pitifully and found herself feeling sorry for him. It wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t realised what that pendant meant to her, and obviously he needed money just as much as she did. But he had still tried to take it from her, which was something she couldn’t allow. She opened her mouth to mutter something along the lines of an apology, but decided against it, turning and walking away instead.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It wasn’t that she enjoyed beating the living daylights out of people, she actually rather disliked the idea when put in that context, but even she had to admit, she was good at it. Sighing, she sat on an old cardboard box and looked down at the pendant hanging from her neck on a thin, but strangely strong silver chain. Her father had given it to her when she was four, and she hadn’t removed it from her neck since. And, though she didn’t remember it ever being too big, she knew it must have been once. After all, necklaces don’t grow, do they?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She’d watched this memory so many times before, but it never grew old. It was the first and the last memory she had of her father, and she treasured it as dearly as the pedant he had given her. She heard a rustling below her, and looked down to see an inquisitive face looking up at her. The face belonged to a hungry-looking rat, and she smiled and rummaged around the boxes and bins where she was sitting until she found a stash of old snacks, specially selected scraps that she had found lying around.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Putting her memories aside for the night, Taia sat on her cardboard shelter and shared a dinner of discarded pizza with the company of a quiet rat. It wasn’t particularly hygienic, but people like her didn’t have the luxury of cleanliness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small; line-height: 18px;">*cough*ThanksForReading:)*cough*</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-12383371739997148162011-12-08T21:25:00.000+00:002012-08-30T18:33:31.221+01:00The Return of the FanFiction.I have been bad.Very bad indeed. And I am truly sorry for that, but now I can redeem myself, by fixing what I have done wrong.<br />
<div>
For I am starting again, in... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The Return Of The FanFiction. </span>(cue the random evil laugh)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Any way, I have written the beginning and it shall be posted... very soon. Very soon indeed...</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-90865244054919355142011-05-25T17:21:00.000+01:002012-08-30T18:34:39.429+01:00Random Drawings, etcHey Everybody!!!<br />
It's me, (obviously...) Anyway, here are some fairly random pictures...<br />
Enjoy!!<br />
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The first two are of my hamster, because he deserves to be on here...</div>
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The other is a random drawing, simply because I enjoy drawing randomly...</div>
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Yaay randomness!!!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6184725568427140672.post-4382587767778345062011-05-24T20:16:00.000+01:002012-08-30T18:39:57.132+01:00Taia's fanfic. Remio Sound. Chapter 2<strong><u>Taia's Fanfic, Remio Sound.</u></strong><br />
<br />
Hey everybody!! Just want to say 'Hey', and umm... yeah, that's kind of it actually.... so, here's the story... <br />
This Chapter is dedicated to the cute little pixie that lives in the upstairs shower and steals the oranges from the fruit bowl when no one's looking...<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>Chapter 2</strong><br />
<strong> Taia DeMars</strong><br />
<br />
The DeMars family was nothing particularly special. Just Mark and May, and their son, Jordan. And then there was Taia. <br />
Taia wasn't really a member of the DeMars family, but she'd lived with them as for long as she could remember. May and Mark were her foster parents, but they treated her as if she was part of the family, because she was - sort of... Taia treated them as family in return, although she didn't get on too well with Jordan any more.<br />
Jordan was 2 years older than Taia, and pleased about it. Because of this, Taia had grown up liking most of the things her brother liked. She'd never liked Barbies, or Polly-Pockets, she preferred Lego, Harry Potter, and Star Wars. Well, not Star Wars, She'd never liked Star Wars....<br />
<br />
Taia had dark hair, parted on the right-hand side, which she desperately wanted to dye red. She had hazel eyes and a good sense of humour - most of the time. She was 13 years old, and a good swimmer. She enjoyed swimming, reading, and gymnastics, but not at the same time.<br />
<br />
They lived in North Wales, in a little village, called Glyn Lemwn, which translated from Welsh, means Lemon Valley, which was quite odd, because they definitely weren't in a valley. They did have lemons though...<br />
<br />
Taia went to Coed Cyll, the local high school, and was in year 8, she couldn't wait for the holidays to start. She didn't really get on well with the other girls at school, she did have friends, she just wasn't as <em>'girly'</em> as they were.<br />
<br />
Taia was in her room, listening to <em>'Lead the way' by The Trail</em> when there was a knock on the door, and Jordan burst into the room.<br />
"That's poo music!"<br />
She paused the song. "What do you want?"<br />
"Where's the TV remote?"<br />
"I don't know? In the living room?"<br />
"Just tell me where it is..."<br />
"I don't know"<br />
"Taia"<br />
"Look Jordan, I don't have it, what use would it be to me, in here?"<br />
"You stole it to annoy me..." he began to play with the little china ornaments on the shelf by the door.<br />
"What? Jordan that's ridicu- Put that back Jordan"<br />
He'd picked up one of the ornaments, a rare one apparently. She didn't know where they came from, someone just sent them to her in the post every few months. They never left an address, or a name, just the little ornaments, and a letter, that just seemed to be a load of nonsense, with <em>'From your true and loving Auguinii' </em>signed at the bottom. Taia often dreamed of Auguinii, of meeting her and going on adventures, filled with riddles and mysteries, in search of her real family. These dreams, beautiful as they were, were often the things that tortured her the most during the day. Just the thought of her family made her queasy, and however real the dream would seem, however much fun she was having, and however close she got to finding them, her heart would always be broken again by morning. She would never find her family in the end, and finding that it was just a dream when she woke up, just made everything so much worse.<br />
<br />
"Jordan, put it down, now!" Taia demanded<br />
"No, not until you give me the remote!"<br />
"I don't have it, numskull"<br />
"yeah you do, and don't call me that, your a bigger one"<br />
"Get out of my room Jordan!"<br />
"Fine" he slammed the door and ran off with the ornament<br />
"Jordan!" she yelled as she ran downstairs after him, then decided it wasn't worth it, and went back to her room. All the china ornaments were gone.<br />
<br />
She sighed and ran into Jordan's room. She didn't particularly enjoy going in there - it was dark, dingy and it smelled weird, like mouldy pasta.<br />
"Give them back Jordan"<br />
"No!"<br />
"Aargh, you're such an idiot!"<br />
"No I'm not, your just jealous of me, because you have no friends and I do! And at least I have a family!"<br />
"That's not true Jordan, you don't know anything!!" <br />
She lunged at him, was just fixing her hands around his throat, when May shouted from downstairs<br />
"Taia, stop shouting at Jordan! Jordan, leave Taia alone!"<br />
"But I-"<br />
"Taia, just go to your room please"<br />
<br />
Taia went back to her room, slamming the door behind her. She waited, not quite sure what to do now. She looked out of the window, at the clear, blue sky, littered with smears of Cotton cloud, that blew across the sky in the cool spring breeze, that made the trees sway in time with each other, following a strangely hypnotic beat. She opened the window and looked down. Definitely too far to jump. She used to climb down the tall, green tree in the front garden - she didn't know what sort it was, but it was gone now, it had gone rotten, and would have fallen if they hadn't cut it down.<br />
She crept into the bathroom and looked around. She spotted the big window, that led to the low, sloping roof outside. It was the emergency fire exit upstairs, that was a safety regulation now, all houses had to have one.<br />
She twisted the handle, and pushed open the window, then hauled herself up, and out of the window, carefully pushing it shut behind her. Then, she slowly slid down the roof, and edged along the edge, to the very end. at the back of the house, knocking several tiles down as she went. She was hoping to jump across, to the high wall at the top of the drive, and climb down from there. Slowly, carefully, she stood up and prepared to jump. She took one step back, onto a loose tile, and slipped. She fell, just managing to grab the gutter with one hand, and hung there, watching two more tiles fall down and shatter on the concrete floor. One false move and that would be her head.<br />
She swung her other hand up, and grabbed the gutter, grunting slightly as she pulled herself up. She steadied herself, and jumped, just managing to grab the top of the wall, which she hauled herself over, and climbed down the other side. She sneaked around the side of the house and ran off, down the road to the woods at the end of the village.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1