All I could do was stare.
Troy walked up to me,
"She's still here, everywhere."
"It's hard Troy, I don't want her gone like this, I don't."
I felt the tears swell up, the rain pelted softly on my cheeks. People stared at me, what ran through their minds evaded me. I closed my eyes and all I could see was her smilng her last smile, her eyes deep set with its mysterious emotions that eluded me, yet played with me joyfully. The way her eyes locked onto mine, expecting me to hold her in my arms and whisper to her how much I loved her.
Never. Not anymore.
"She loved you the most of all of us J, love her, always, she'd want that."
"She took it Troy, I don't want her to give it back, it's hers for all time, i'll always be hers."
He smiled, I cried, he patted my back while I stood there holding her memories so tight it tore me apart.
I'll always love you.....
Monday, August 27, 2007
Hide
How many times do you see him smile like this?
Where do you see his real self intertwined with his music?
And from 'Kurenai'.
God, he's so beautiful.
Love you Hide.....
Monday, August 20, 2007
Starting Over
We're starting over
Its not that far
Just till October
Shot in the car
Rumours on edge
It's you that I need
Standing on the ledge
Desperate to feed
Just a little kiss
We'll have fun
I'll never miss
Where else can you run?
In time you'll learn
Don't try to hide
Your body'll burn
What kills you is pride
Its not that far
Just till October
Shot in the car
Rumours on edge
It's you that I need
Standing on the ledge
Desperate to feed
Just a little kiss
We'll have fun
I'll never miss
Where else can you run?
In time you'll learn
Don't try to hide
Your body'll burn
What kills you is pride
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Dress
"Together as one?"
"Against all others!"
That's Marilyn Manson and Evan Rachel Wood in his new music video, 'Heart Shaped Glasses'.
The fact they're both together is, I have to admit, rather weird, but kind of sexy in it's own way. I've always had the image that Evan was a person who wanted to send out a message to the world, what with her roles in movies like '13', 'Pretty Persuasion' etc. Maybe they are a good match, I love them both.
Let's just see how long it'll last.
For now, live it out in sex, blood and passion.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Harry
Who knows, Harry's hot and all that
He's got the whole town in a sweat
But just for tonight, he, my man, let kitty sleep on his lap
Sometimes all we need, is a simple pat on the back
We'll be arguing about this, tit for tat
Non stop till we get a well deserved slap
I noticed the tons of humanology fat
But the brain surpassed all thats fact
It's a plenty, more than ears and a year till we get on that jet
Simple mentality, we've got pride sitting on us, a big floppy hat
Utter damnation, what will we ever get
Friends, foes alike, splitting, running round like a rat
I tell you, we'll definitely wipe it off the map
Once it's laid, oh so sweet, my gentle little trap
Tomorrow morning it's fishing, set
Coins and notes, it's a bet
For sure, silly weather, it'll be wet
I'm pretty damn sure i'll be where its at
But still Harry's hot and all that
Cause hes got Lisa hopping mad
He's got the whole town in a sweat
But just for tonight, he, my man, let kitty sleep on his lap
Sometimes all we need, is a simple pat on the back
We'll be arguing about this, tit for tat
Non stop till we get a well deserved slap
I noticed the tons of humanology fat
But the brain surpassed all thats fact
It's a plenty, more than ears and a year till we get on that jet
Simple mentality, we've got pride sitting on us, a big floppy hat
Utter damnation, what will we ever get
Friends, foes alike, splitting, running round like a rat
I tell you, we'll definitely wipe it off the map
Once it's laid, oh so sweet, my gentle little trap
Tomorrow morning it's fishing, set
Coins and notes, it's a bet
For sure, silly weather, it'll be wet
I'm pretty damn sure i'll be where its at
But still Harry's hot and all that
Cause hes got Lisa hopping mad
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Deep Red
I could not to look back, you'd gone away from me
I felt my heartache, I was afraid of following you
When I was looking the shadows of the wall
I started running into the night to find the truth in me
I felt my heartache, I was afraid of following you
When I was looking the shadows of the wall
I started running into the night to find the truth in me
Monday, August 13, 2007
TNT
Saw a shooting star last night.
The back hurt, guess it's normal.
Hours before, had a spin at Suntec. Playpen and Timemachine got me hooked, eventual result? Purchased 2. One's customed made, the other just Evan. They have names, all of them, so far there's 4, the customized one has to be given a name, just haven't come to it yet. Maybe Chang, haha.
Evans uni color just hits off on the shelf and though it's weird, I like him better than 'Chang'.
Greens almost gone, but hey, he owes me money.
Plus tattoo is here. Small, but obvious, as I experienced yesterday.
Current song: Scorpions - Always Somewhere
The back hurt, guess it's normal.
Hours before, had a spin at Suntec. Playpen and Timemachine got me hooked, eventual result? Purchased 2. One's customed made, the other just Evan. They have names, all of them, so far there's 4, the customized one has to be given a name, just haven't come to it yet. Maybe Chang, haha.
Evans uni color just hits off on the shelf and though it's weird, I like him better than 'Chang'.
Greens almost gone, but hey, he owes me money.
Plus tattoo is here. Small, but obvious, as I experienced yesterday.
Current song: Scorpions - Always Somewhere
Sunday, August 5, 2007
If I told you what I am, I would no longer be beautiful. I keep the deadliest of secrets in me, a smile for you but wicked. It's evil I warned you, but I can only crave for you more. I think alone, feed alone, listen, surrounded by nothing. Yet I have you, dying in my arms, it's ever more peaceful.
Your'e alive.
Your'e alive.
Teardrop [2]
19.44 pm.
It wasn't dark; it wasn't bright either. Twilight, it created an eerie atmosphere, made his skin crawl. The nagging fact that he was alone yet not really alone bugged him. He could smell them, hear them, faintly, not distinct enough to divert his attention. But he knew, they were somewhere.
It was somewhat like witching hour, a long shadow here and there, threatening to hide the deadliest of threats, them. No bag with him. He carried tons of pouches, packs, they gave him pockets aplenty for anything, everything. The heavy piece of technological metal felt good, suprisingly warm to the touch. It was most probably from his tension, alertness. The dual vests he wore clamped tight to his chest, his every breath lifting it slightly, steady breathing.
The walk was tormenting, 15 clicks to nowhere. He just walked. He knoew the streets well, though it differed from the view in a vehicle.
He wondered.....
"Are they alright?"
"Are they, alive?!"
Pray. Mind open. There!
He dropped to the ground. Slowly he moved, crawled. Alert. Position?
"It's ok, covered."
He counted them...
"1. 4. 15....32, 33."
33 in all. Could he? He looked at his surroundings, there were none he could see, but they could very well, be all over the place. After all, who survived this hell? No one he knew. No one.
Could he? Should he? He had tons of magazines, he just might be able to.....
Fuck it.
Cock. Safety off. Fine tuning. Goggles down. Equipment check. Turned on the scope. Breathed slowly. Fingered the trigger, power. In position, slowly, slowly, confidently, then......
They sounded horrible when they began to die. They couldn't see him of course. The moved around in crazed circles, he just took them out one by one. Take your time, focus, watch your back, watch your back. Steady, concentrate, back, front, back, front.
They saw him. They weren't brought back to life for nothing, they could just sense it. He steadily slung the rifle. Got up to kneeling, reached for the other. Plenty of mags left, but no hero here. Take it easy. Steady.
Cock. Safety off. No need tuning, just look, aim and wait for beauty.
It sickened him, but he didn't really have a choice.
What's next?
It wasn't dark; it wasn't bright either. Twilight, it created an eerie atmosphere, made his skin crawl. The nagging fact that he was alone yet not really alone bugged him. He could smell them, hear them, faintly, not distinct enough to divert his attention. But he knew, they were somewhere.
It was somewhat like witching hour, a long shadow here and there, threatening to hide the deadliest of threats, them. No bag with him. He carried tons of pouches, packs, they gave him pockets aplenty for anything, everything. The heavy piece of technological metal felt good, suprisingly warm to the touch. It was most probably from his tension, alertness. The dual vests he wore clamped tight to his chest, his every breath lifting it slightly, steady breathing.
The walk was tormenting, 15 clicks to nowhere. He just walked. He knoew the streets well, though it differed from the view in a vehicle.
He wondered.....
"Are they alright?"
"Are they, alive?!"
Pray. Mind open. There!
He dropped to the ground. Slowly he moved, crawled. Alert. Position?
"It's ok, covered."
He counted them...
"1. 4. 15....32, 33."
33 in all. Could he? He looked at his surroundings, there were none he could see, but they could very well, be all over the place. After all, who survived this hell? No one he knew. No one.
Could he? Should he? He had tons of magazines, he just might be able to.....
Fuck it.
Cock. Safety off. Fine tuning. Goggles down. Equipment check. Turned on the scope. Breathed slowly. Fingered the trigger, power. In position, slowly, slowly, confidently, then......
They sounded horrible when they began to die. They couldn't see him of course. The moved around in crazed circles, he just took them out one by one. Take your time, focus, watch your back, watch your back. Steady, concentrate, back, front, back, front.
They saw him. They weren't brought back to life for nothing, they could just sense it. He steadily slung the rifle. Got up to kneeling, reached for the other. Plenty of mags left, but no hero here. Take it easy. Steady.
Cock. Safety off. No need tuning, just look, aim and wait for beauty.
It sickened him, but he didn't really have a choice.
What's next?
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Lovelorn
You are a wandering shining star
You light up the sky you take me so far
One crystal inside my lonely heart
You light up my life I embrace your light
You're my healer
I am lovelorn
In the cool breeze I hear your sweet voice
I'm your treasure
I am forlorn
In the rain
I feel your warm tears
I can't forgive God and myself
I should have been there to
Give you strength
One kingdom below the dark blue sea
Leaves' Eyes
Lovelorn
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Mael
I stepped out of the house.....
No, let me go further back.
I picked up Anne Rice's 'The Vampire Lestat' a few weeks back. I read it in my own solemn world, taking in every word and detail. She has her way with writing.
Today. I hit the last hundred pages of the book. Lestat begins to question eternity and somehow or rather the 'good' in the world and our very existence. Let it be clear that the fact he is a vampire and the fact they dont exist is too true and eagerly accepted by me. I would like to make it known to my readers that it's not the supernatural, not the undead, or whatever you may think that might have affected me. It was based purely on how our thinking so happened to be alike.
Now, i've read her books many times. I've brought up issues, paragraphs and descriptions shes written to christians and found that their answers did not satisfy me. In this manner, I am somewhat like Lestat. An eagerness, almost revolting, so fiery it burns madly. Always wanting to know more, finding answers everywhere, unsatisfied and unconvinced that there was no answer.
As I read the book, nearing the end I realised she was answering my every dark question, making more real the horror that i've kept so deep in me, making me realise, it could be true.
That there was so much more to everything we all know, but we just can't seem to get to it.
It made me afraid, very afraid. My whole system of belief collapsed, I didn't know what to think.
Why? What are the things that made me so?
The emptiness of loneliness, the devasting pressure of love, the insane notion that you are the only one that holds so much in their mind, the painful sorrow of knowing there are no more suprises to/in life anymore, the increasing doubt that the angels and devils are real, that there are only powers in the world and neither one of them could be real, that your lives and mine are controlled by something we can't see, touch or hear, that everything done and said was by someones design.
How can one be so sure? I once believed, or should I say, I still have hope that there is something more, but where.....
A believer said, "I should have faith."
Crumbling now. I cannot simply put in words like how Anne Rice has done. To address the readers:
Vampires are good for nothing. Fashion, yes, maybe, who wouldn't want to be like them. But have you thought of how and what they think about? The blood? Please. That's for kids.
THEY QUESTION GODS EXISTENCE AND THAT'S WHAT I'M DRIVING AT!
Why is love so hard to find? Twice it has eluded me. I do not speak of the love of a woman or a man, but the love of understanding. Why are you so predictable? Why are we following a routine even you yourselves do not know about, but it can be so obvious to me? Why do you disgust me with your reasoning and your utterly pathetic ways? Why do your emotions make me smirk? Your increased effort at trying so hard to prove yourself to the world, they are fruitless, why? Why are there so few answers to the millions i've asked throughout my life? Why are they not answered? Is there nothing else in this world? Are there no answers? Why I love you all yet hate the way you present yourself? That I have given up hope in finding the perfect one for me to spend my eternity enraptured in your beautiful incantations of understanding? Is this what you have all come to? Stupidity and insffucient intelligence? That you're so shallow, that you possess so little knowledge of the world you live in? That there is so much confusion and doubts you cannot discern for yourself which is right and which is wrong? Why is your understanding of everything that surrounds you so hastily put together?
Is there no one? No one in this world that can come to me and tell me what's in my heart? What torments me night and day? This madness that never stops?
Anne Rice did it. She took my soul right out of me and put it in words I can never repeat.
It scares me, it horrifies me, it makes things that aren't supposed to be real, come to life.
Doubts that make your world smaller and smaller. It changes everything.
Is there really no one that understands all this?
No, let me go further back.
I picked up Anne Rice's 'The Vampire Lestat' a few weeks back. I read it in my own solemn world, taking in every word and detail. She has her way with writing.
Today. I hit the last hundred pages of the book. Lestat begins to question eternity and somehow or rather the 'good' in the world and our very existence. Let it be clear that the fact he is a vampire and the fact they dont exist is too true and eagerly accepted by me. I would like to make it known to my readers that it's not the supernatural, not the undead, or whatever you may think that might have affected me. It was based purely on how our thinking so happened to be alike.
Now, i've read her books many times. I've brought up issues, paragraphs and descriptions shes written to christians and found that their answers did not satisfy me. In this manner, I am somewhat like Lestat. An eagerness, almost revolting, so fiery it burns madly. Always wanting to know more, finding answers everywhere, unsatisfied and unconvinced that there was no answer.
As I read the book, nearing the end I realised she was answering my every dark question, making more real the horror that i've kept so deep in me, making me realise, it could be true.
That there was so much more to everything we all know, but we just can't seem to get to it.
It made me afraid, very afraid. My whole system of belief collapsed, I didn't know what to think.
Why? What are the things that made me so?
The emptiness of loneliness, the devasting pressure of love, the insane notion that you are the only one that holds so much in their mind, the painful sorrow of knowing there are no more suprises to/in life anymore, the increasing doubt that the angels and devils are real, that there are only powers in the world and neither one of them could be real, that your lives and mine are controlled by something we can't see, touch or hear, that everything done and said was by someones design.
How can one be so sure? I once believed, or should I say, I still have hope that there is something more, but where.....
A believer said, "I should have faith."
Crumbling now. I cannot simply put in words like how Anne Rice has done. To address the readers:
Vampires are good for nothing. Fashion, yes, maybe, who wouldn't want to be like them. But have you thought of how and what they think about? The blood? Please. That's for kids.
THEY QUESTION GODS EXISTENCE AND THAT'S WHAT I'M DRIVING AT!
Why is love so hard to find? Twice it has eluded me. I do not speak of the love of a woman or a man, but the love of understanding. Why are you so predictable? Why are we following a routine even you yourselves do not know about, but it can be so obvious to me? Why do you disgust me with your reasoning and your utterly pathetic ways? Why do your emotions make me smirk? Your increased effort at trying so hard to prove yourself to the world, they are fruitless, why? Why are there so few answers to the millions i've asked throughout my life? Why are they not answered? Is there nothing else in this world? Are there no answers? Why I love you all yet hate the way you present yourself? That I have given up hope in finding the perfect one for me to spend my eternity enraptured in your beautiful incantations of understanding? Is this what you have all come to? Stupidity and insffucient intelligence? That you're so shallow, that you possess so little knowledge of the world you live in? That there is so much confusion and doubts you cannot discern for yourself which is right and which is wrong? Why is your understanding of everything that surrounds you so hastily put together?
Is there no one? No one in this world that can come to me and tell me what's in my heart? What torments me night and day? This madness that never stops?
Anne Rice did it. She took my soul right out of me and put it in words I can never repeat.
It scares me, it horrifies me, it makes things that aren't supposed to be real, come to life.
Doubts that make your world smaller and smaller. It changes everything.
Is there really no one that understands all this?
This Is Where It Starts
They asked me.
They saw it in me.
Though they didn't know what.
Who would want to know?
They saw the darkness, the desperation in my eyes. I've read it over and over. Listened to it over and over. Seen in over and over. Crazed myself with questions, thoughts, thoughts that torment me day in, night out, ever repeating itself. The dark songs you say means nothing, the thick aged books you say are fiction. Who cares about what's really in it?
Say it. It's not the power or the immortality. It's the pain of the questions asked that are so cunningly similar. The consistent throb of imagination. What really lies beyond all this?
Why are we so different? How can our minds be so vast, filled, overflowing with images of distrust and amazement?
Some part of me is pure evil, and I embrace it. Some part of me is pure good, but how are we to live among everyone else if we do not possess the knowledge of evil? I take part it it. The reflection in the mirror, a face of hatred, it's not who I recognize.
I question the existence of god, of satan, of every living power said to have a hand in our lives, why? Why do we feel so much from others and are tortured daily to keep our thoughts to ourselves?
The sight of everyone is a sad memory of life repeating itself, over and over, the same result, the same response. No suprises, no accidents.
Just human.
They saw it in me.
Though they didn't know what.
Who would want to know?
They saw the darkness, the desperation in my eyes. I've read it over and over. Listened to it over and over. Seen in over and over. Crazed myself with questions, thoughts, thoughts that torment me day in, night out, ever repeating itself. The dark songs you say means nothing, the thick aged books you say are fiction. Who cares about what's really in it?
Say it. It's not the power or the immortality. It's the pain of the questions asked that are so cunningly similar. The consistent throb of imagination. What really lies beyond all this?
Why are we so different? How can our minds be so vast, filled, overflowing with images of distrust and amazement?
Some part of me is pure evil, and I embrace it. Some part of me is pure good, but how are we to live among everyone else if we do not possess the knowledge of evil? I take part it it. The reflection in the mirror, a face of hatred, it's not who I recognize.
I question the existence of god, of satan, of every living power said to have a hand in our lives, why? Why do we feel so much from others and are tortured daily to keep our thoughts to ourselves?
The sight of everyone is a sad memory of life repeating itself, over and over, the same result, the same response. No suprises, no accidents.
Just human.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Teardrop
He was thinking about her.
Worst time for it, but nevertheless, how could he not? She was so far away, could he do anything about it? God. What's happened to the world.
Deserted.
Eaten alive.
Brought back from the dead.
Roaming freely.
Savaging, ravaging, destroying what was left of mankind.
Utter disgust.
I was alone. We all were.
He had to go back home, had to see what fate his family had suffered; though he already knew, he just had to see it for himself.
It's already been 3 days.
3 eternal days of terror, horror and unnatural insomnia. It won't end would it?
"No, it won't."
Obvious, he already knew, but tried desperately at hope to give him hope. No such luck.
Her again. Her beauty, her hair, her fear. Her sisters and friends. What happened to them? Were they alive?
Was it.........love?
Lust.
No!
Passion.
Maybe, just maybe.
Emotion unknown?
Defintely.
He just wanted to see her again, wanted to be near her. Her family that meant so much to him. The only family he knew that gave him a feeling he had so long ago lost.
Yes, he loved them as sisters. The youngest of them so young, so...
Innocent.
He had to get them out.
Whatever it takes.
Worst time for it, but nevertheless, how could he not? She was so far away, could he do anything about it? God. What's happened to the world.
Deserted.
Eaten alive.
Brought back from the dead.
Roaming freely.
Savaging, ravaging, destroying what was left of mankind.
Utter disgust.
I was alone. We all were.
He had to go back home, had to see what fate his family had suffered; though he already knew, he just had to see it for himself.
It's already been 3 days.
3 eternal days of terror, horror and unnatural insomnia. It won't end would it?
"No, it won't."
Obvious, he already knew, but tried desperately at hope to give him hope. No such luck.
Her again. Her beauty, her hair, her fear. Her sisters and friends. What happened to them? Were they alive?
Was it.........love?
Lust.
No!
Passion.
Maybe, just maybe.
Emotion unknown?
Defintely.
He just wanted to see her again, wanted to be near her. Her family that meant so much to him. The only family he knew that gave him a feeling he had so long ago lost.
Yes, he loved them as sisters. The youngest of them so young, so...
Innocent.
He had to get them out.
Whatever it takes.
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