| >:| |
[Jan. 24th, 2007~05:43 pm]
bite_my_sitar
|
| [ | Ideas? |
| | Cup'a murder, luv? | ] |
| [ | On Repeat |
| | Several things. Dx | ] |
| [ | As if I feel this |
| |  Semi-pissy. | ] |
Well look at THAT.
I have a JOURNAL!~ And I can -post- in it.
I'm such a freakin' genius.
It still needs to be a friday~ But atleast it's not a MONDAY.
A week full of mondays. That would really suck. You'd wake up~ "HELLO MONDAY. You SUCK!" And by the end of the week you'd be ready to slay whoever decided that a week of mondays would make for good press coverage.
OR SOMETHING.
...
So yeah. Random crap is my way of saying good GOD I'm bored and once again there is nothing to do. ..Kind of.
..There is breathing.
Breathing is good.~
You know~ I suppose I've wondered this before~ But if someone saw colors differently, such as blue for green and stuff like that~..
..How would you ever find out? I suppose there's SOME way of doing it, though it's all very confusing and after awhile the process of figuring out just how gets boring, but..
..Maybe some day. Hell~ =I= could be seeing things differently and I wouldn't even know it.
That's a creepy thought.
...Kinda. At the same time it would make everything a bit more INTERESTING.
But that's just me.
++
Note to self: Make the damn gloves.
Get a new mood theme.
Save up enough money for a saxaphone.
Save up enough money for a doubledecker bus + crosscountry trip.
Stop being antisocial [To a point]
Make the BOOK.
Get some glass jars with little stoppers in them.
Actually FINISH those 2903839520 stories.
[Kai, you'll love thisone.] Draw Tyr.
Go to the Bermuda Triangle, and then COME BACK.
Travel alot.
Actually make that AOL-CDS-OF-DEATH machine that Catsu mentioned.
Can anyone say LEVITATION?
++
...That's kind of a list-of-things-to-do-before-I-die thing. Since I can't do most of it yet~..
..It's nice to =think= about doing it.
Well off to watch MASH. |
|
|
| I'm going to poke you now. |
[Jan. 6th, 2007~03:38 pm]
bite_my_sitar
|
| [ | Ideas? |
| | HAHA. mock. 8D | ] |
| [ | As if I feel this |
| |  bouncy | ] |
| [ | On Repeat |
| | Silent Hill -(REMIX)- - Promise Third Version | ] |
Krauser smirked as he watched the man's feeble attempts at movement, speaking, hell even staying awake. It was all greatly amusing to him, to see the man whom he worked for miserable and stretched out at his feet.
..There was a faint hint of patheticness to it, as well..
..But that was overshadowed by the great sense of dominance, which showed its self as he tucked the toe of his boot under the other's side, rolling him over onto his back with little to no effort.
"Damn. Do you look like YOU'VE gone through a shitfest."
He bid himself to stop playing with the handle of his knife, sadly enough if he took his troubles out on the other and he lived.. ..Things would blow.
And if he died, things would suck. In both cases, sexual referances abounded, and he really didn't like either of them to be applied to situations like this, though he couldn't help but have a little fun.
Krauser crouched down next to him, glancing over the many wounds with supreme distaste, amusement and a sort of snide laughter, though it was silent. "And you even lost your shades, aww.."
This was the closest the man got to outright mirth since he'd come to this dirty, dirty place. And it was made all the better by the fact that Albert Wesker was completely helpless. He couldn't help but to wipe up a bit of blood with his pointerfinger, licking it off with one of those infernal 'I'm going to do this and you can't stop me' kind of looks written all over his face.
He stood again, half-turning, almost like he was just going to leave him there. And he knew that in this condition, if anyone came along, the man would most likely perish or ..Something even better. Especially since he wouldn't be able to heal right up like that ass Leon. He seemed to have a never-ending supply of 'feel-better' remedies, likely containing some lube in that damn case of his at that. It wouldn't be the first time.
"Have fun, Weskerbucks. Hope they visit you for tea~" Here, he was stretching it. Krauser really wanted to see him reach out for help, this time. |
|
|
| KRAUSER'N'WESKER: Continued 8D |
[Jan. 6th, 2007~02:22 pm]
bite_my_sitar
|
| [ | On Repeat |
| | Silent Hill 2 - Angels Thanatos | ] |
| [ | Ideas? |
| | AHAH. -Roll.- | ] |
There's this little thing called PATIENCE. Wesker obviously had none, mused Krauser as he stalked through a somewhat morbid corridor made out of trees, bushes and the occasional house.
He would have gotten it done eventually~ ..If Leon hadn't kept popping up like the things on the computer, also named 'popups.' That was his MAIN problem, anyway. The bitch in the red dress was a shitty second, almost not even that.
Sure, she was helping Leon, but it wasn't doing much good.
His thoughts were cut short as he came to a halt. He'd finally figured out what had been bothering him throughout his trek, and that was the distinct lack of.. ..Groaning. No villagers, no pissy wenches with chainsaws, no rabid tentacle monsters trying to rape him..
Just silence.
This was a bit more than odd, as he was quite near to the little town that, most likely, had once been pretty well off before Saddler came.
Ohh, Saddler. He didn't like him much, if at all. The only reason why he was even 'working' for him was because Wesker had ordered it - and because it might mean a higher status. Hey, who knows, right? Either way it had turned into too much trouble for its worth, and if not trouble, boredom. It was becomming all too easy to kill off the pissy dwellers, though occasionally he'd find a more.. ..Stubborn one.
He glanced around, fingers absently tracing the scar that tore over his face. That hadn't been fun to get. Krauser was still resentful about it, though Wesker had chucked many a thing at him just to get him to stop sulking.
He. Didn't. Sulk. He =thought,= damnit!
Just like he was now. He thought he could smell blood, and that he did, in fact he had been aware of it for quite some time. He'd just.. Figured that it was the blood of his victims.
But nooo. This had a rather different smell to it, a familliar one at that. And it was strongest in the building next to him, or rather, hut. It wasn't ...Big enough, or even well-build enough to be dubbed a building.
And so, he took afew short strides to the entrance and lumbered in, only to stop with a slight smirk on his face.
"Heh. Wesker. Didn't expect to see you sleeping on the job." |
|
|
| I WAS SUCH. |
[Jan. 6th, 2007~09:17 am]
bite_my_sitar
|
| [ | On Repeat |
| | somethingsomething can't spell today mornings suck - Marla | ] |
| [ | As if I feel this |
| |  bitchy | ] |
| [ | Ideas? |
| | FOOOOOK. | ] |
...I WAS SUCH A WHINEY LITTLE BITCH. xD!!
...And I STILL AM. xD; But~~! ATLEAST I KNOW IT.
RAUUUUUGH IT IS 9.18 AM. TIME FOR THE RAMPAGE OF THE CAPS.
O< KLXJFKLSDJFKLSJKFLASAFZXVV.
...okay I'm better now~. D< BUT STILL!
My moms computer could have died during the NEXT-YEAR-WHEN-I-GOTS-A-LAPTOP but no0o0o0o >___>;
It had to bend me over and make me it's BITCH. D<
;; I don't want to be it's bitch.
..Okay. Off I go to PACK MY FILES >O< oh bloody eff eff effing effity effer effing EFF. >___>
[There once was a girl, she was a nice little girl, and her most favourite toy was a mace~
And one day there was a boy, a mean little boy, who teased this girl till she cried~
And then the next day, the very next day, the girl invited the boy to tea.
And so this boy, the mean little boy, he accepted - but only to hurt.
And she shined her mace, her pretty little mace, waiting for him to arrive..
..And when he did, right when he did, she invited him inside.
And once inside, safely inside, the boy turned right around..
..And her mace met his face, his ugly little face, and he fell to the ground. <3]
Pardon the insanity, my brain ISN'T AWAKE YET. ee; |
|
|
| AHHH. |
[Jan. 1st, 2007~05:28 pm]
bite_my_sitar
|
| [ | Ideas? |
| | rauuuughfuck | ] |
| [ | On Repeat |
| | Tool - Third Eye | ] |
| [ | As if I feel this |
| | cranky | ] |
I haven't posted in FOREVER~ O<
So meh. It's 2007. First post of the new years, not like anyone gives a shit.
ee; My HEART hurts but oh well. Here's Comatose for you.
++++_++++
Would you know that on this earth, there was once dragons, monsters, trees that were alive, rocks that could speak in quiet whispers about events before history was recorded. In the times like this, you could visit flourishing cities, filled with merchants and dealers, potionmasters and gypsies, tamers and hunters, even beasts you would think to be mythical. These beasts spoke in tongues of their own kind, only able to speak to other races due to bodylanguage and handmotions. Occasionally, a caravan would pull into places like these - great, brightly-colored wagons pulled by magic and horses - great, winged horses with six eyes, fur cropped short.
These doubled as war-horses, and when the caravans were out traveling the vast deserts that stretched from city to city, they would help defend from marauders who would conduct raids. Occasionally, these would turn sour and many lives would be lost - then the horses would be the last standing, and they - now released from their bonds - would return to the Castle, the center of all goings-on in the country. And there lived the Duke, who had ruled for years upon years. No-one knew how old he was, not even him, for small things such as that were purposefully forgotten. Only the land would know, and then it would not tell, for it liked to play with the humans, as it mattered not what went on in such short time-spans.
What did matter to it, was the wars. The wars that would ravage it of all things good, and wholesome. It was then that it would cry out to other places - sometimes upon its land, and sometimes not. When things became steeped in darkness, and almost all hope was lost, the great Mother would call out for help from other times, be it future, past or perhaps some other place, altogether different than any we know now. And this was what happened in the year 667 of the Broken Peace.
This war came about due to great tribes rearing up against the Duke's rule - they had long been enemies of the great ruler for centuries upon centuries - but they had always bided their time. Up until this point, the Seers had told them the time was not right. Always, the time was not right. But, ten years before hand, this had changed. The Seers had suddenly called their followers from the lands around their central point, Sinobi - the cursed city. Only the most cunning could live here, and a rather large population did - though it was not an easy life. They had to eke out a living through the broken buildings, and despite reluctant ploys for help - they never got any.
It was set into stone and written with blood, that no-one should go near this place, for whoever did would become blackened, death soon taking them after they had left the boundaries, if they got even that far. And if they did, all of their family would inherit it, the black magic only destroyed by the final death of all the members. And so, no one would dare break the pacts, all but for one man who carried the very root of the curse upon his shoulders. But we will return to him later - for now we return to the desperate summons for salvation.
It came to pass that three people slowly heard these calls, though they did not recognize them immediately, being from a world where hearing soft calls deep in your mind was a key to insanity. So they spoke to no-one of it, but amongst themselves, for five years till the calling reached such a ferverous pitch that they could take no more; and they snapped.
They were sent to an asylum for years and years, studied, tested upon to see what made this part of the brain tick, work, even talk. They put the words said off as mindless babble, something to be ignored but taken note of, studied and kept track of to see if anything lessened, perhaps the 'insanity' dwindling to a point that the boys could be released.
But this did not happen. After three, perhaps four years, they broke free - able to get rid of the pills given to them one morning, they had gathered in their room, and by a stroke of luck found that the door had been left open by a careless nurse. And so the escaped, un-noticed by anyone for they all were in the grey room given to all the patrons of the building for meal-time. News quickly spread however, and soon there was a warrant out for their capture - they were deemed dangerous by the authorities.
Unfortunately, they had become resentful to the voices, taking the frustration out on their surroundings in the following nights. Eventually it reached such a peak that a house was taken, and in doing this, so was one of the three. His name was Scott, the most reckless - caught inside as the house collapsed. The other two, in a desperate attempt to get him out, were taken also - but not killed. No, no, the trio were abruptly shoved into a coma from which none of them would wake, despite treatments shoved upon them in attempts for their 'keepers' to resume their studies. This became impossible, as their minds were now elsewhere - called, finally, by the great Mother from which the need for help was seeping from.
They were placed in the middle of nowhere, almost literally. Deep in a swamp, on a small plot of dry land with one of the Ancients situated on it; a gargantuan tree with branches reaching so high that the tips seemed to scrape the heavens. Knots gnarled the thick trunk of this tree, bark paled with years passed. Thinking it was all a joke, they lounged around a bit, unintentionally committing a great sin, which was touching the Father without permission from he, himself. This caused a riot to break out amongst his sons and daughters, so much so that he finally had to open the doorways long sealed, admitting them into the passages that had, till now, been sealed away from the world.
By now, the three had realized that this was not a drug-induced hallucination, nor a strange dream - as pain was almost unable to be felt through any normal means, as far as they knew. Sin was the first to notice this, as he had sustained a long scrape across his shoulder due to the assault of many infuriated tree-children. The other two had escaped with only afew little cuts here and there - but it was enough to alert them that they'd best tread lightly, for this would not end on their own wishes.
They had to collect their nerves after this strange turn of events, finding that despite several minutes of pounding against the inside of the trunk, the gates would not open again. It was obvious, then, that they had one way to go, and that was down. Stairs lit by a pale green light pointed the way into the old mazes, filled with dead ends and traps. These had been placed here by the Gods, it was even rumored that Mithros and his brother, Necro, had placed the tunnels there themselves. But that was, supposedly, a tale told to restless children, helping them to fall asleep at night. Even the caves themselves were an unsteady fact, though it was a well known one.
The few reports of people stumbling into, and out of the ways was either put off as drunken rambling - of which there should be no belief in, whatsoever - or pleas for attention, also discredited a majority of the time for it was almost taboo to speak of such things as if they were.. Real. And now, it was Blue's turn to lead, striding ahead where the others were afraid to go, though they would never admit it. Unfortunately, after many winding twists and turns, they found themselves to be hopelessly lost as they found themselves reaching another dead end. Their hope for finding a way out had decreased to a point that they considered stopping again, perhaps to let everything end.
But this was not how the Gods wished it, as after only afew moments of rest, a deep rumbling was heard, fast accompanied by an almost blindingly bright beam of light, flooding into the gentle glow like a waterfall. And then, a silvery dragon's head appeared, nostrils flaring as it located them by scent. After it had found them, a wide, fangy grin found it's way across the beast's muzzle, right before a rather small form jumped down to land right on it's nose. This caused it to sneeze and draw back, tumbling the person - a girl it seemed, from the loud protests - to the ground infront of them, where she sprawled out, shaking her fist at the scaled beastie.
She only turned after berating him soundly - to much hissing laughter - before she got up, turning to the three with an abrupt bow, snapping her fingers to call her companion down. The shadow it had been casting suddenly shrank, then disappeared entirely, explained by a sudden rain of scales and a humanlike male who had violently pink hair. Penta, she had called him, and he named her fondly by the name of Zai, or sometimes brat, which was quietly muttered as he dusted himself off from the descent to the ground.
++++_++++
I typed in the wee hours of the morn.
ANSWER ME THIS: Dialogue or NO? |
|
|
| I SAY AMERICA, YOU SAY? |
[Dec. 8th, 2006~12:14 am]
bite_my_sitar
|
]:[Partner in Crime]:[ Lizard!: WHEN I SAY 'AMERICAN' YOU SAY:
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: IDIOT
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: O_O
]:[Partner in Crime]:[ Lizard!: GREAT.
]:[Partner in Crime]:[ Lizard!: OK.
]:[Partner in Crime]:[ Lizard!: And...
]:[Partner in Crime]:[ Lizard!: What exactly do you mean?
]:[Partner in Crime]:[ Lizard!: (this is a school project)
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: I stand by my previous statement
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Because like.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Most americans have very little respect for anything. You know how there's alot of murders here, alot more than in some other places? that's because they let violence happen in schools and at a young age. Some kids grow up with it because of their families, occasionally they'll turn out all right despite the negative influances, but most of the time they won't. They'll just follow the influances from their parents and become violent because no-one taught them that it was wrong. Another reason why I say idiot is because of like
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: the schools.
]:[Partner in Crime]:[ Lizard!: WOAH.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: They don't do a good job at teaching, if someone needs help at it they rarely give that help unless the teacher is a really good one who actually cares about what the students do, and if they're able to grow up and get a job and not just become workers at McDonalds, or hobos or like people who live with their parents till the parents die. Most teachers don't care about that enough to help. Also, another thing about schools, colleges this time
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Is that they should be less costly.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: If you go to college, you either are worthy of it or really want to be there, unless your parents force you
]:[Partner in Crime]:[ Lizard!: Ha.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: The kids who drop out because of bad grades aren't all that many, right?
]:[Partner in Crime]:[ Lizard!: Dunno.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Well, if it would cost less more people could go. More people could actually get jobs better than my previous example, McDonalds or something like that. They'd do something with their lives because money didn't restrict them.
]:[Partner in Crime]:[ Lizard!: Ah hah.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Different point now, the flaming lack of respect for individuals. Men are generally placed higher up than women, despite how people try to deny it. Naoki brought up that last night, in a rant about religion, I'll get to that some time later too. Women get paid less to do the same jobs as men occasionally, they oftentimes don't get help in an abusive relationship because they know they won't get much, so they just don't ask for it. It eventually leads them to believe that they're not worth anything and they disserve being treated like crap.
]:[Partner in Crime]:[ Lizard!: brb
]:[Partner in Crime]:[ Lizard!: keep going.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: I'll keep going
]:[Partner in Crime]:[ Lizard!: (:
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: XD
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: If a man rapes a woman, he gets in trouble if they have the guts to report it. If a woman rapes a man, they all think he wants it. That's another place where things aren't even, despite it being a negative point. What, are women not good enough to be able to rape people? If we forcefully sex someone, is it justified because that's what we're made for and we shouldn't be prosecuted for it? It's still a crime, gender or not. Onto religion.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Most of america isn't much better than say the people we're at war with, for HATING christains. We're intollerant of homosexuals, we're intollerant of people who aren't christains - the bible says "You shall not yoke an oxen with a mule, as it is uneven" or something like that, and then it says "So then you shall not marry a non-believer." That's bs. Is that saying that regular people are not as good as christains? Yes, it is. We're also taught to look down upon non-believers, not to get involved in relationships with them because they might 'rub off on us' as my parents put it. I figure, what, if they can rub off on us, we can rub off on them.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: On to racism.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Alot of america isracist. They think that if you're not black [or white] then you aren't as good as they are. Alot of violence is because of racism - you know, the gangs that fight eachother sometimes, the hatecrimes. Recently there was something in the news about a cafe being lit on fire because of something like that, and grafiti'd. It's stupid to think that your skin-color has anything to do with your place in society. If everyone was blind, we wouldn't know what color skin anyone had, and there wouldn't BE racism due to colors.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Also, another thing on hatecrimes - there's alot of homophobic people out there. I hate people like that. Maybe, just maybe, they're just as horrible to bi or gay people as said people are to them. It gives them no right to mug people on the streets or attack them in broad daylight, just because of their sexual orientation. They wouldn't like it if the people they assulted started attacking back, would they? They'd go "Hey! Dude! I'm straight, you have no right to attack me, I'm NORMAL." Liking the same sex, or both, is normal for some people. It's not their fault.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: On to the enviroment.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: You know how alot of people litter? How they're all "Oh this doesn't affect anything, it's only one bit of junk on a perfectly clean street." Well bub, have you ever walked down to a beach where stuff like that ends up? It's filthy. There's broken bits of glass, sharp pieces of metal, string and stuff. Would you like to take your kids down to a beach like that, let them play around in the sound and then suddenly hear screaming because they sliced their little hands open on a bit of that stuff? No, you wouldn't. Would you like it if they were wandering around and found a dead animal on the beach because of that string? No, you would not.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Another thing. authority. I admit, it's a touchy subject for adults but it's something that I've noticed. Adults rarely listen to their kids, even if the kid is right. They always say that they're older, they own the house, they pay the bills or something like that, thus the child knows nothing about what she or he is talking about. Well, what if they did? "I'm depressed because the kids at school are mean to me." "Oh itt'l blow over honey." "Mom, I get beat up like every day." "It's just a phase! they'll all grow out of it." Eventually, if it gets bad enough, the kid might show up to school with a gun and go on a massacre, killing themselves when it was finished, all because they didn't get any respect. Age isn't something that allows you to treat people like dirt, either, see abuse
Absinthe Chan: in homes. They think because thekid's younger and potentially weaker than they are, they have no human rights. They can mentally or physically abuse them as much as they want, it doesn't matter because this being is of less worth than I am because they haven't seen as many years as I have. There's no excuse for doing that at all.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: On to MUSIC. Yes, music.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: There's too much slutty music around. You know, like rap? Yeah, we all have ot listen to it at one point or another, and god does most of it suck. It's all sex-sex-sex drugs-drugs-drugs violence-violence-violence drinking-drinking-drinking. If you hear it enough, sometimes you'll start to think it's okay to go out and have sex each night, or you'll start thinking it's okay to do drugs and kill your braincells, or it's okay to go out and stab someone just to show that you're the top dog. Or even that it's okay to become an alcoholic just to get you through the day. Because it's not.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Sex spreads diseases, especially if you don't use condoms or get tested. It also creates babies, who oftentimes go without fathers because the guy who did it doesn't want anything BUT the sex. Screw the kid, he'll find someone else to bang untill she gets pregnant. That creates a problem. Teenagers have to support these kids. Sometimes on their own if the parents flip out and ditch the daughter AND their little grand child. Sometimes they do it even if the girl was raped. "Oh she had to have had sex to get this and she most likely wanted it and now she's screaming rape so we'll help her with something she did to herself." Well even if she is, maybe you should try helping her? That's another problem. Girls are sometimes too scared to tell their parents because they know they'll get
Absinthe Chan: bitched out and treated like a whore. So they hide it, or try to get abortions or abandon it [A friend told me about a kid in her school who abandonded her baby in the snow. It died from exposure.] because they don't want to face the wrath. Parents! Turn down the disrespect! Try to have a little understanding - I'm not saying to say "Oh go right ahead and have sex", I'm just saying don't make your kids live in fear of what you might do to them if they are. On to drugs D<
Absinthe Chan: Drugs suck. I really, really hate drugs because someone I knew did them, and every time you could see sharp changes in how he acted. He got dumber, he got louder, he got more annoying. He was pretty smart at one point but eventually that stopped because of the drugs he did, along with the drinking. It killed his brain and made him pretty much useless to society. Some people say they have to get high to get through their day, that's bullshit. They don't. They have to gather it together and realize that burrying yourself in something for a short ammount of time won't help in the long run. It can drive off family, friends and completely decrease your health and smarts. Yeah, I bet you hear this alot but you get to HEAR IT AGAIN. If everyone would take up the outlook I do
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: , meaning if they would cut off their friendships to people who did do drugs, I bet alot of people would quit. Same with smoking - it kills you alot faster and causes cancer. Do you want cancer, people? I don't think so. But alot of people in america smoke anyway, they don't believe that it can wreck your health. Ever seen a person's lungs who smoked? Disgusting looking. If you haven't, look it up, it might do you some good.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: I've covered violence all ready, though there are some misconseptions about what CAUSES it. Videogames, books and movies don't make people violent - the person doing it does. If they have a pre-set tendancy to violence, they'll just give in to those urges. The entertainment they pick doesn't instill it. Supprisingly, videogames seem to be a good stress reliever for some people. Get on the game, start bashing things around and you'll feel better - stress is out in a positive way. Same with movies, or books. If you read about it, or watch it, sometimes you'll shove all your frustrations in with the characters, and, again, will feel better in the end.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: To drinking. It's bad if you overdo it. It messes up your health, along smoking and drugs. It can pretty much shove you in the same hole too, where you rely on the next shot to get you through. It's costly, and it also links in with violence in homes. Drunk parents can get pissy at the littlest thing and start beating the kids, or the wife or the husband. It's costly, both in money and in personal health and wealth [other people] and it's a stupid habbit.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Lessee, what else..
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Oh yes. Politics.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Alot of politicians are sleezy liars. You know how they'll try to dig up the dirt on their opponents, even if it's not true? That's a finely-tuned form of CHEATING, and it's become part of the election races. Have you ever seen someone run for a position and NOT try to dig up crap on the other ones? If you have, I'll give you a cookie and a pat on the head. The whole thing is sort of like this; "Let's see who can pin the most bad stuff on the other person! Whoever digs up the most dirt wins!" People don't win because of honesty, they win because of false statements and promises they never go through with. You know how schools sometimes have elections? And how sometimes people promise that more money would go to so and so? Well, does it ever? They only do that for the vote
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: Because they want to be in a position of power so badly.
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: ..I think I'm all ranted out
[+] Vicodin and Snark [-] House.: If I think up something else I'll send it. XD
---
FORGIVE MISSPELLINGS. I was typing fast and didn't correct typos. xD I GOT AN EXCUSE TO SOUND SMART! Which makes me pleased.
OTHER THAN THAT. Lvl 139/50 knight with 27k hp. D< Don't know what I'm talking about!? http://www.xilero.net/ join the ez server.
I've been having insomnia, been in a GREAT MOOD and am going to bed. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 4th, 2006~12:50 pm]
bite_my_sitar
|
Ahahaaa..Ha..
CHRISTMAS SUX KTHXBAI |
|
|
| wtf |
[Nov. 20th, 2006~12:13 am]
bite_my_sitar
|
Absinthe Chan: ,,,
Absinthe Chan: my mom
Absinthe Chan: thought
Absinthe Chan: that they had
Absinthe Chan: tissues
Absinthe Chan: hanging out of their mouthes
NekoFairy06: xD
Absinthe Chan: and my dad
Absinthe Chan: said
Absinthe Chan: that they look like they've been in a horrible accident
Absinthe Chan: xD
NekoFairy06: silly people
NekoFairy06: its toast
NekoFairy06: toast with grape jam
NekoFairy06: =)
NekoFairy06: cuz one NEVER KNOWS WHEN THE KRACKEN WILL STRIKE
NekoFairy06: [even during breakfast]
Absinthe Chan: lxf
NekoFairy06: o:
Absinthe Chan: sw
Absinthe Chan: afsg
Absinthe Chan: YOU KILLED ME
Absinthe Chan: xDD |
|
|
| ... |
[Nov. 3rd, 2006~07:56 pm]
bite_my_sitar
|
| [ | On Repeat |
| | Architecture in Helsinki - Scissor Paper Rock | ] |
| [ | As if I feel this |
| | Tired - drained? | ] |
A hateful day in which he could get no peace, not even in dreams, lead to our subject drawing back into his world. Walking through the reading room, pushing open the double doors so he could stride down the hallway, foosteps echoing off of the towering marble passageway only to die off after several long moments.
Blank pictures, framed in the typical gold were passed by, slowly forming from the haze that lurked in the corners to drip down, situating between two locked and barred doors from under which shadows seeped, ominous presences to the left of him.
On the right were two more doors, spaced father appart so there could be a long, rolling mural painted dirrectly onto the walls. This was also only partially formed, grey in the background swirling in an impatient manner - like it was overly eager to be complete.
Perhaps fifty, sixty paces from the double-doors, he came to a halt infront of another door - thisone was brighter, with a pale glow shining from under it, accenting the dust that hovered close to the floor.
A gentle pull opened it, leading into a room with only three walls - the one facing the doorway opened up into a spectacular garden, harboring thousands and thousands of species.
He closed the door behind him on principal, glancing to the left, where ivy crept up the walls, clinging to carefully-placed cracks that, despite being deep, would never have any effect on the structure.
A bench was positioned perhaps a foot away from the main path of smoothed stone, seat sandy in color with delicate designs sculpted from the rock - on the sides, it showed clouds penetrated by sunlight, miniature dragons forever captured in flight and play high, high over the unmoving ground.
This arrangement was not untouched by plantlife, thin stems creeping up to rest over the edges where pale flowers bloomed, petals a pure white with smiling yellow centers.
Spreading out from this was moss, up from which jutted bushes with brilliant green leaves, spatters of purple, blue, and many other shades nestled within the confines of these plants.
On the other side was also a landscape set in stone, depicting a rural sceen with old, wooden fences stretching over hills that seemed to keep going forever, only interrupted by small thickets of trees, perhaps a small house here and there, though they looked to be unused for anything but nature.
And, looking forwards again, he saw the path split, encircling a great fountain that seemed to grow out of the ground itsself, structure dark grey for this piece. Multiple tiers allowed the water to rain down from a great height, top of it adorned with a gryffon unfurling its wings, reaching for the heavens.
If he was to turn, he would be allowed a view of the wall arching overhead, verticaly extending over the entryway, vines scattered over the surface, clinging to the raised arches like the designs from times of old.
Above that, solid stone only appeared in pillars, much like the Roman ones, supporting the half-dome that was perhaps eight stories above the ground, held up in the middle with one sturdy, uninterrupted column of stone, though not even that was free of life, flowers hanging down from small platforms that had been carved with it for just that purpose.
Moss was hanging from the top of the halves, both sides of the 'ceiling' pulled back from eachother ten to twenty feet, a half-circle showing on the middle point of either.
Each had large sections removed from the curve, making it look like a monsterous spider had spun a web that would resist time for eternity, always allowing the ever-present sunlight in to nourish the garden.
Vines stretched high above, linking over the pathways to allow yet more flowers grow, this time in reds and oranges which would feed hummingbirds that so wanted to feast, perhaps feeling safer in the air than near where people would usually be - though only one could come here.
Looking back to the ground, white-flowered rosebushes were scattered through the lush growth, huge flowers nodding in the slight wind like they were sharing secrets only our host knew.
Around the base of the fountain there was little covered passages, creeping under the main walkway to form little streams of water that snaked throughout the entire area, feeding the ever-growing family as it needed.
Throughout the garden were many trees, some old, with gnarled limbs reaching skywards, moss hung over the branches like a beard. These looked wise, hidden faces impassive to scrutiny, though they always listened when the only human visitor to this area wished to talk, sometimes lounging on the ground beneath them, sometimes held high in the intertwining bows when he needed to feel safe.
Other, younger trees stood around as well, swaying with a sort of impish delight in the wind, ignoring stern disapproval from the older ones. In their youth they could only grow and expand, flourishing in the perfect conditions that they had been so kindly given to live in.
Second pillar, hidden behind the fountain, had rungs for climbing in the back side of it, put there for the purpose of being able to creep high above the natural world, so that the owner of everything here could sit and think, able to view the ocean, able to feel its winds that were much stronger than what was felt inside the utopia.
Far to the right, things slowly crept into an undefinable mist - though this time it was brighter and green, not the greys that usually signaled things yet unexplored.
And to the left, there was a smaller archway, leading elsewhere. It was impossible to look past this point, however, as it was in the same condition as the opposite side, unfinished.
We will leave him, now, to sit back in a small gathering of older trees, leaning in the curve of his favourite one, bark of it a healthy, deep brown, warmed by sunlight.
This is where he would resume his creations, weaving thoughts into the area with a care that was oftentimes reserved for things close to his heart. |
|
|
| REALIZATIONS. |
[Nov. 2nd, 2006~05:12 pm]
bite_my_sitar
|
| [ | On Repeat |
| | The Mars Volta - Day Of The Baphomets | ] |
Realizations in an open room, open to the world, the wind and the ocean but sheltered from time. Turn from the balcony and you'll see a chair, half on half off an intricately woven rug with earthy colors, patterned in ways that would indicate brilliance.
Colors mixed together around it fell into shadow under a table, square outline of the frame showing on the floor, penetrated by a sharp square with three darker shapes. Looking on it, you could find three books piled atop one another, a vase with dead or dying flowers and an ashtray - empty of what it usually holds, full of a mixture of herbs, aroma penetrating the surroundings to make it smell vaguely of mint and rosemary - perhaps cinnamon.
Candles - white in color - were gathered around the edges, hardened wax dripping down the finely polished and stained wood, showing that they were frequently used.
Accross from this piece of furniture was a two-seated couch, fabric matching the chairs. It was a dark, wine-colored velvet, soft and unmarred. Like it was neglected, just there for looks, even though it was used quite frequently.
Behind it was another table, simple in cut and design with a cloth draping over it, creme, blue and red with off-white tassles hanging from the corner. It fell down perhaps 9 inches, hiding the drawer that held various half-written scripts, half-formed ideas put away for another time.
On top of the covering there was another vase, dark grey with blue designs twisting and writhing up it's sides. Arching up from the opening was a strange combination of pussywillows, unidentified white flowers and dead leaves, water still sitting in it to nourish any livin thing that might be there. Above it sat a picture, framed in gold. Subject of it was dark blue, nothing completely defined but for the sky, thought had not yet been put into the main section of it - though it would always be wonderful once it was whole.
This all sat to the left of the doorway leading to the outside. Left again and large, impressive bookcases wound around the curve of the room, filled with multi-colored books of all ages, sizes, generes. Some were well worn, others looked to be un-read, though they all would be. Some even had covers made of a rough fabric, those were mostly faded reds and oranges, frayed at the edges and over the spine. Titles printed in gold leaf were all but worn off from time, and love.
If someone dirrected their gaze to the ceiling they would see a dome, painted with clouds that would literally move, swirling about slowly as if unphased by the fact that they weren't real - colors would change, darken, lighten and fade out, matching the moods of the person that owned this odd structure. Hanging down from the flat part of the roof would be golden chains, holding up crystals that were alligned around an unidentified, gently glowing light source, some hanging down further than others.
A doorway was hidden behind one of the bookcases, triggered by a leather-bound book, cover dyed a dark, jade green. This went to no-where, only a fuzzy grayness as it had yet to be created, though it would be some day. Straight accross from the balcony, another doorway stood, great, doubled doors made of sturdy wood and iron nails atleast one inch accross. Handles were plain rings, attached a little above the middle beam so you could pull or push them open as you wished. Once open, it would lead to a great hallway, ceiling oh so high so you could hardly see the detail. It would come down eventually to better shelter the five doorways, but not just yet.
Once again back in the reading room, the right side of the room was unfinished. Shapes were hazy and slowly churning in the semi-darkness, walls creeping to a slow halt, hesitant to go on as all things were - this side was full of confusion, wonder as to how to go on with the strange beauty that the owner was so fond of.
This is the house that is slowly, ever so slowly being constructed. Only three rooms are formed, and not even completely. But they will be, the sanctuary from the outside world expanding on a daily basis, sometimes in small ways, other times in huge, bounding leaps.
---
I was.. Not going to put this down. But I needed to, just.. Desperately. It's where I go to feel safe. And hey, you. You there! This whole place is only possible because you just randomly asked me what was going on in my head and my thoughts compiled into this room. I have no idea how to thank you other than to update you on it as everything grows. Yeah.
---
( Less important stuff.Collapse ) |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
