Today is the last day of May, and yet only gloomy skies await us for the 'morrow. For June is the month of the dreadful tests, but brings the light of the tunnel closer than it ever could; freedom. Soon, and all I need is to last like two more weeks before I'm out.
How about you all? Are you faring well on this evening? I, for one, am feeling adequate. Nothing much has transpired on this gloomy day, but I have to say it wasn't too bad. At the very least I managed to scrape by without anymore awkward conversations.
My fingers are getting terribly dry though. It's a very uncomfortable feeling. I should probably put some lotion on it later. However, it discourages me as the skin is slowly peeling off its origin. Very disgusting and very worrying as well. I do hope that I do not have dry hands for this tempered summer.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Saturday, May 30, 2015
Gluttony's Party - Excerpt I
A third eye.
A third eye.
Samantha Abner, on August 14th, saw herself in a mirror. She saw, in that pocket reflection, an abnormality; an abnormality that shouldn't have come to be. Her brain was scattered, trying to think of a logical way for this to be explained.
Yet, she couldn't. Her thoughts were empty, and no light bulb could help them succeed.
She tried to ignore it; disregard its existence. Yet, nothing helped, and she was found out.
Her parents' reactions were from from her expectations, but they weren't the ones she had hoped for. Their eyes were piercing, almost touching her skin; almost drooling in Greed.
It gave her a fright, the bumps rising on her skin rising, when her eyes were shut tight.
So began Samantha's journey into Greed, and no it wasn't pleasant. At the very least, she was able to recognize one thing from this dreadful and terrible tragedy: humans are conniving beasts, that did not deserve all the rings, nor have choirs singing their name. They deserved nothing, nothing other than what Fate wished to serve.
That was what Samantha decided one day, tired and dazed from the visions that were laid into her brain that bright hour.
An abundance of options, yet so little time. She had to be quick, if her plan were to thrive. Though she loved her parents, she knew it was time. Tick, tock, went the clock to her parents' demise.
A third eye.
Samantha Abner, on August 14th, saw herself in a mirror. She saw, in that pocket reflection, an abnormality; an abnormality that shouldn't have come to be. Her brain was scattered, trying to think of a logical way for this to be explained.
Yet, she couldn't. Her thoughts were empty, and no light bulb could help them succeed.
She tried to ignore it; disregard its existence. Yet, nothing helped, and she was found out.
Her parents' reactions were from from her expectations, but they weren't the ones she had hoped for. Their eyes were piercing, almost touching her skin; almost drooling in Greed.
It gave her a fright, the bumps rising on her skin rising, when her eyes were shut tight.
So began Samantha's journey into Greed, and no it wasn't pleasant. At the very least, she was able to recognize one thing from this dreadful and terrible tragedy: humans are conniving beasts, that did not deserve all the rings, nor have choirs singing their name. They deserved nothing, nothing other than what Fate wished to serve.
That was what Samantha decided one day, tired and dazed from the visions that were laid into her brain that bright hour.
An abundance of options, yet so little time. She had to be quick, if her plan were to thrive. Though she loved her parents, she knew it was time. Tick, tock, went the clock to her parents' demise.
Friday, May 29, 2015
Gemini - Excerpt III
(chapter II)
“He has a crush on the Dorito’s brand.” Mabel immediately joked and her brother choked at the thought. “He loved it so much that he made himself that persona so that he could conduct sort of imaginary cannibalism.”
The teen took a deep breath, trying not to laugh too loudly. “Yeah, I bet.”
“I’m not done yet! I bet you, after the incident, he’s gotten so masochistic that he probably draws his persona chewing on its bricks or something.”
“Wait, wait I thought he made it into a triangle.”
“He is! It’s just that he has bricks that taste like spicy Doritos.” She said in a goofy voice, snorting as she tried to imagine the scene.
There was Bill (his persona, mind you), in the middle of its lonely house (because it was so lonely), watching who knows what. Probably reality t.v shows, because violence.
Then, it had a sudden, crippling sensation. It was so lonely, so much so that it began to cry from its one, girly ass eye. (Her twin had laughed at that one especially hard.) In its sudden mourning, it had pulled out a brick from its delicious form and began shoving it (the brick) up its eye—(“Wait, why is he shoving the brick up its eye?” Her twin asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “Because I don’t know if it has a mouth. William never draws it” He had roared with laughter after that, gesturing her to quickly continue.)—and tasting the succulent-ness of the rush of flavors coming from the small, bright brick. Its tears turn into tears of joy as it finally tastes the joy of spicy Doritos. What a weird triangle thing.
The car veered into the driveway when she was done with the tale of sad triangle thing eating itself to taste the wonderfulness of human created Doritos. (That was probably the title she would give it if she were to ever make it a book. He encouraged her to do so.) Mabel exited the car with a hop, skip, and jump to her feet and crashed the door into the car.
“He has a crush on the Dorito’s brand.” Mabel immediately joked and her brother choked at the thought. “He loved it so much that he made himself that persona so that he could conduct sort of imaginary cannibalism.”
The teen took a deep breath, trying not to laugh too loudly. “Yeah, I bet.”
“I’m not done yet! I bet you, after the incident, he’s gotten so masochistic that he probably draws his persona chewing on its bricks or something.”
“Wait, wait I thought he made it into a triangle.”
“He is! It’s just that he has bricks that taste like spicy Doritos.” She said in a goofy voice, snorting as she tried to imagine the scene.
There was Bill (his persona, mind you), in the middle of its lonely house (because it was so lonely), watching who knows what. Probably reality t.v shows, because violence.
Then, it had a sudden, crippling sensation. It was so lonely, so much so that it began to cry from its one, girly ass eye. (Her twin had laughed at that one especially hard.) In its sudden mourning, it had pulled out a brick from its delicious form and began shoving it (the brick) up its eye—(“Wait, why is he shoving the brick up its eye?” Her twin asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “Because I don’t know if it has a mouth. William never draws it” He had roared with laughter after that, gesturing her to quickly continue.)—and tasting the succulent-ness of the rush of flavors coming from the small, bright brick. Its tears turn into tears of joy as it finally tastes the joy of spicy Doritos. What a weird triangle thing.
The car veered into the driveway when she was done with the tale of sad triangle thing eating itself to taste the wonderfulness of human created Doritos. (That was probably the title she would give it if she were to ever make it a book. He encouraged her to do so.) Mabel exited the car with a hop, skip, and jump to her feet and crashed the door into the car.
Imperial Girl - Excerpt III
(chapter VI)
It’s now a year after, and many things have changed after that bastard Oracle's mouth went loose. Morgiana hummed as she struggled to dig new spaces for the flowers with the princess. Though quiet, her company was welcomed into the attendant’s arms. She watched out of the corner of her eye as the quiet girl poured the water onto the flowers and whispered to them with a small smile. Morgiana’s heart bloomed as she continued digging into the dirt with her bare hands. It seemed that the more flowers were decorating the manor, the more bright the princess would become.
Since the royal hasn’t been out lately, Morgiana was silently grateful to prince Koumei for recommending outside activities to cheer her up. It seemed that everyone was aware of the princess’s sadness, and a few went out of their way to cheer her up. (Though Morgiana would figure that her brother would bring a smile to the princess’s lips with just his appearance any day, but he was out on another campaign it seems. A shame, really.)
It’s now a year after, and many things have changed after that bastard Oracle's mouth went loose. Morgiana hummed as she struggled to dig new spaces for the flowers with the princess. Though quiet, her company was welcomed into the attendant’s arms. She watched out of the corner of her eye as the quiet girl poured the water onto the flowers and whispered to them with a small smile. Morgiana’s heart bloomed as she continued digging into the dirt with her bare hands. It seemed that the more flowers were decorating the manor, the more bright the princess would become.
Since the royal hasn’t been out lately, Morgiana was silently grateful to prince Koumei for recommending outside activities to cheer her up. It seemed that everyone was aware of the princess’s sadness, and a few went out of their way to cheer her up. (Though Morgiana would figure that her brother would bring a smile to the princess’s lips with just his appearance any day, but he was out on another campaign it seems. A shame, really.)
May 29th, 2015
Today was a bright, sunny day. Also very hot. Also I wanted to punch someone's face. Also I lost faith in my nation.
Hello? My European followers? Take me with you.
Honestly, America is so... ugh. I can't even bear to explain it.
I mean, why can't we just past a law against gun control? "We have to protect ourselves!" Um, you do realize that the majority of the cases where you need to "protect yourselves" is because someone is holding a gun legally.
Okay, okay I'll calm down. Deep breaths... happy thoughts... phew.
How was your day?
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Wistful Visitation
If I were to go to any place, I would go straight to my house, go up my room and enter the wardrobe. If my allusion didn’t quite inform you specifically, I would like to go to Narnia.
I wish to visit the magical world that lured me to sleep every night during those hot summers with my grandmother. I want to see what the world was like as it was governed by the characters. Narnia is a world that brought color to my eyes and words to my lips. It was what started my desire to place ink on paper.
Now, it may seem like a milk dream; an unachievable goal. After all, isn’t Narnia a fictional place that actually doesn’t exist? Yet, everyone can visualize it in their minds at the mention of the name. You can see the wardrobe, you could see the Ice Queen’s castle, you can see the characters wandering throughout the land. If you can see it, if you can connect it to another object that exists, doesn’t it mean the place exists?
The thing about fantasy worlds within books, you get to travel those lands with the characters and have the adventure with them. You feel their emotions, and then you empathize with them as they struggle throughout their conflicts. In reality, you have lived with them through their adventures, and if this logic applies, I certainly can go and read the books again to go back to those adventures. Yet, how do we bring it to life in our own lives? How can we place a magical place to a part of own mind that shows we’ve been there? Simple, we retell the story.
Whenever someone visits a certain place that creates an impact for them, they tell it. They tell it to their friends, their estranged family, they tell it to all that wish to listen. How many times have you heard someone start a sentence with “I went to” whenever they come back from a trip? To create a place for that fictional world in reality, the only thing someone can do is to write their own land of wonder. You retell the morals, the lessons, the themes you obtained from the fictional land and implement it to your own writing. To retell the story is to teach others those repetitive lessons and engrave it to their skulls of the importance these lessons bring. To bring the same color and life to their eyes and encourage them to continue the lineage.
So, if I were to go anywhere. I wish to go back to Narnia. To go back to the tales and stories that sweetened my heart, and retell them. To continue their great legacy until someone else resumes it in my place when I’m gone.
I wish to visit the magical world that lured me to sleep every night during those hot summers with my grandmother. I want to see what the world was like as it was governed by the characters. Narnia is a world that brought color to my eyes and words to my lips. It was what started my desire to place ink on paper.
Now, it may seem like a milk dream; an unachievable goal. After all, isn’t Narnia a fictional place that actually doesn’t exist? Yet, everyone can visualize it in their minds at the mention of the name. You can see the wardrobe, you could see the Ice Queen’s castle, you can see the characters wandering throughout the land. If you can see it, if you can connect it to another object that exists, doesn’t it mean the place exists?
The thing about fantasy worlds within books, you get to travel those lands with the characters and have the adventure with them. You feel their emotions, and then you empathize with them as they struggle throughout their conflicts. In reality, you have lived with them through their adventures, and if this logic applies, I certainly can go and read the books again to go back to those adventures. Yet, how do we bring it to life in our own lives? How can we place a magical place to a part of own mind that shows we’ve been there? Simple, we retell the story.
Whenever someone visits a certain place that creates an impact for them, they tell it. They tell it to their friends, their estranged family, they tell it to all that wish to listen. How many times have you heard someone start a sentence with “I went to” whenever they come back from a trip? To create a place for that fictional world in reality, the only thing someone can do is to write their own land of wonder. You retell the morals, the lessons, the themes you obtained from the fictional land and implement it to your own writing. To retell the story is to teach others those repetitive lessons and engrave it to their skulls of the importance these lessons bring. To bring the same color and life to their eyes and encourage them to continue the lineage.
So, if I were to go anywhere. I wish to go back to Narnia. To go back to the tales and stories that sweetened my heart, and retell them. To continue their great legacy until someone else resumes it in my place when I’m gone.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
May 20th, 2015
I cleaned the entire house yesterday. It was sort of stress-relieving, but all the dust got to me today and my nose is stuffed.
The school year is almost over, and it almost feels... empty, almost. This year went by fast with its own problems and issues. A lot of crying on both ends and a lot of resentment after.
However, I can't repeat time, and I don't want to. You allow your mistakes to past and continue on. Because that's life.
The school year is almost over, and it almost feels... empty, almost. This year went by fast with its own problems and issues. A lot of crying on both ends and a lot of resentment after.
However, I can't repeat time, and I don't want to. You allow your mistakes to past and continue on. Because that's life.
Monday, May 18, 2015
Asthma
Allergy season is ruthless against my lungs. Day in and day out, my asthma breathes its foul stench into my organs and my heart goes pitter patter in quick tempos as it tries to keep up with the darkened air. The throat clenches as the mixture of poison in the air is tugging at my lungs.
Asthma. The curiosity of Asthma.
The coughs grow heavier and heavier as a hand wounds itself to my chest. Collapsing to the floor, a slow, burning hatred is apparent in my mind as I gaze out the window. I see the specks of pollen clinging to the window, and watch with disgust as I cough again.
Nature is cruel, but the insides of a body are far more cruel.
Asthma. The curiosity of Asthma.
The coughs grow heavier and heavier as a hand wounds itself to my chest. Collapsing to the floor, a slow, burning hatred is apparent in my mind as I gaze out the window. I see the specks of pollen clinging to the window, and watch with disgust as I cough again.
Nature is cruel, but the insides of a body are far more cruel.
Sunday, May 17, 2015
Chance
A thought had just occurred to me that is both strange and absurd. Perfect for this blog of mine.
Have you ever wondered about parallel universes? About how one single decision can lead to such a darker, greater outcome? Think of it as this: someone asks you a 'yes' or 'no' question. You chose either of the choices, and you'll go through the conversation in a breeze. The question here is what would've been the other choice's conversation? Would it lead into something else; a new outcome? Or would it lead to something disastrous; a destroyed friendship?
These thought intrigue me in a way that makes me question my own existence. Just think about it, with the right train of thought, you could control human nature within itself. Starting with you.
The percentage of chance is such an easy concept to think of. A half chance is 50%. A quarter is 25%. Yet, if you put that in the logistics of life, it becomes so much more. In fact, it could even be a manipulative tool for someone to use to create chaos everywhere.
But hey, it's just a thought.
Have you ever wondered about parallel universes? About how one single decision can lead to such a darker, greater outcome? Think of it as this: someone asks you a 'yes' or 'no' question. You chose either of the choices, and you'll go through the conversation in a breeze. The question here is what would've been the other choice's conversation? Would it lead into something else; a new outcome? Or would it lead to something disastrous; a destroyed friendship?
These thought intrigue me in a way that makes me question my own existence. Just think about it, with the right train of thought, you could control human nature within itself. Starting with you.
The percentage of chance is such an easy concept to think of. A half chance is 50%. A quarter is 25%. Yet, if you put that in the logistics of life, it becomes so much more. In fact, it could even be a manipulative tool for someone to use to create chaos everywhere.
But hey, it's just a thought.
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Gemini - Excerpt II
She left quietly as she figured she would let the boys have their fun. Tip-toeing up the stairs and going up to the attic, the girl quietly made sure that no triangle-like shapes were out in the open. When Mabel opened the door, she was greeted with the quiet, shared room between her and her brother. She eyed the new posts on her brother’s bulletin board, keeping note that he was researching about the sphinx. Though, the girl knew that there were only manticores residing in the town, she supposed she would keep that quiet. He would find out eventually.
Like how he would eventually know what Mabel has been doing during their past five summers here.
She shook her head and frowned. She shouldn’t think too much about it. She prompted instead to fall among her stuffed animals and closed her eyes. Mabel was tired, and so she slept. Despite knowing what was to come; more whining from a triangle and more nightmares from said triangle when she refused.
Like how he would eventually know what Mabel has been doing during their past five summers here.
She shook her head and frowned. She shouldn’t think too much about it. She prompted instead to fall among her stuffed animals and closed her eyes. Mabel was tired, and so she slept. Despite knowing what was to come; more whining from a triangle and more nightmares from said triangle when she refused.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Gemini - Excerpt
Mabel was running. She was running amongst the trees and forestry and everything was happening so fast, so fast. Her lungs pounded in her chest as she forced her legs forward and darted back to the house; the only haven from the forest. Her breath escaped her in shaky, short pants. Yet, it wasn’t enough to fuel her legs to go faster. Faster, faster, faster, she needs to go faster. The growling from behind her also served no help in quickening her pace, no matter the extreme motivation it gave to not die.
She huffed as the clearing of the Shack entered her vision and she further pushed her muscles to reached over the rock line. Come on little Mabs, you can do this! I won’t ask you to do anything this drastic anything again if you don’t let us die!
She took a deep breath and dove into the grass. Mabel ignored the throbs that the action gave to her knees and prayed to the one watching over to keep her alive. She didn’t want to die, just yet anyway.
She huffed as the clearing of the Shack entered her vision and she further pushed her muscles to reached over the rock line. Come on little Mabs, you can do this! I won’t ask you to do anything this drastic anything again if you don’t let us die!
She took a deep breath and dove into the grass. Mabel ignored the throbs that the action gave to her knees and prayed to the one watching over to keep her alive. She didn’t want to die, just yet anyway.
Monday, May 11, 2015
Saturday, May 9, 2015
May 9th, 2015
To sum out my day in a nutshell:
WHY IS MY KNEE THROBBING????????????? MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHY IS MY KNEE THROBBING????????????? MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, May 8, 2015
May 8th, 2015
GOD IT IS HOT OUT.
WINTER BABY PLEASE COME BACK.
No, but in all seriousness, it is indeed strikingly hot outside of my so-called 'air-conditioned' educational building. Blergh.
Anyway, apparently, I am the top extreme in my creative writing class. I'm unsure whether or not it's a good thing. Though, at least I'm occupied with my several various outside-of-school writing projects.
There's also my habit of binge reading as of late. After all, I finished about two books about 370~380 pages long just yesterday. The reason for disbelief from my family is that I had only started the books around, oh, fifth period in school. Though, I can understand their disbelief had they not looked and/or glanced at me as I read both books.
It's a hilarious situation either way.
WINTER BABY PLEASE COME BACK.
No, but in all seriousness, it is indeed strikingly hot outside of my so-called 'air-conditioned' educational building. Blergh.
Anyway, apparently, I am the top extreme in my creative writing class. I'm unsure whether or not it's a good thing. Though, at least I'm occupied with my several various outside-of-school writing projects.
There's also my habit of binge reading as of late. After all, I finished about two books about 370~380 pages long just yesterday. The reason for disbelief from my family is that I had only started the books around, oh, fifth period in school. Though, I can understand their disbelief had they not looked and/or glanced at me as I read both books.
It's a hilarious situation either way.
Imperial Girl - Excerpt II
(currently on Chapter Five; excerpt skipped to chap.V from previous post relative to this)
A few days after the explosion accident caused by Morgiana and her dear brother, Kougyoku has made sure that they haven’t had any close contact since then. Honestly, she should’ve known the atrocities they would’ve caused in each other’s company. Today, Kougyoku had hoped that she would succeed in preventing Morgiana to have contact of any one of her brothers, However, this proved difficult as Morgiana had seem to grow out of her ‘follow-every-one-of-Kougyoku’s-steps’ phase and went to ‘oh-look-a-butterfly-I-must-follow-its-journey-huzzah’ phase.
All in all, Kougyoku was completely done with life at the year of nine.
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
May 5th, 2015
Happy second Star Wars day! Oh, and Cinco de Mayo.
So far, I am quite allergic to the blooming plants (yes, they decide to bloom in May) and my throat is dry and my nose is stuffy.
Screw you, Mother Nature.
In other routine, I am quite hungry at the moment. However, I was able to whip up that hint fiction that amuses me greatly. Think of it! A protagonist that was female and a cannibal! Scandalous!
... Perhaps I might actually make a story for her. HMMMMMMMMMM.
So far, I am quite allergic to the blooming plants (yes, they decide to bloom in May) and my throat is dry and my nose is stuffy.
Screw you, Mother Nature.
In other routine, I am quite hungry at the moment. However, I was able to whip up that hint fiction that amuses me greatly. Think of it! A protagonist that was female and a cannibal! Scandalous!
... Perhaps I might actually make a story for her. HMMMMMMMMMM.
Hint Fiction
Dinner Date
It was my first date. He was amazing. He was funny, smart, pretty, and delicious.
Thanks for the meal!
It was my first date. He was amazing. He was funny, smart, pretty, and delicious.
Thanks for the meal!
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