You Are The Only Exception.

I think I am weak. Not wholly, no. But to certain things, without a doubt.

When I reflect on how I might turn out, when I'm considering the future and so on, I see just how weak that I could be. But even if I would put up with almost anything from those that I love? That doesn't exempt the fact that I hate being in the dark. I'm too much like an animal in that sense. I'll just... lose it.

And I hate losing it. I hate not having control over myself. It's the bigges tthing that keeps me so reined in. I don't want to be spread out so thin. But is being happy and silly really so bad? I don't know. I loved last night, walking across Main and doing the hula in a dollar store, hiding under the covers and acting like my DS was a campfire. Posing in front of someone else's mirror and finally giving in to my own exhaustion.

It was nice. I want to do it more often. I hope I can let those little things add up in these next few months. Then, after that 9, the little things will become everything and maybe after some prep, I'll always be giggling like a mad woman. Maybe I won't be so afraid to let out my obnoxious laugh.

Or maybe I'll complicate things. I don't know. Grahhh. /randomnoisesftw.

I drew on my arm yesterday too--with eyeliner--and traced out "Romantic" in half-assed Olde English script. I love that word. I love every implication behind it. "One of the dying few, we the Romantics~" Chivalry, chivalry. It's okay if chivalry dies. I'll be your knight in shining armor regardless~.

I have a thirst for words today.

Avante Guardian is my favorite band of any style, any genre, any age group that there ever was and ever will be. Even A Love Like Pi can't compete. If anyone can find their videos, their mp3s, direct me to them<3.>

Hehe~. :DDD



Question of the Day: If your school played music in passing --like mine!--, what song would you sing aloud without a second thought on it? What song would make you fall over with blood dribbling out of your ears?

That Boy is a Monster: The Dead Rise Again

Out with the vampires and in with a different kind of corpse, eh?

The Walking Dead is an American television series based on a comic series of the same title by Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore and Charlie Adlard. On October 31, 2010, AMC premiered it with a 90-minute episode during their Fearfest. In true Rabbit fashion, I missed it, and only watched it this morning on AMCtv.com, where they will be steaming the pilot--only the pilot--for free. Tonight, the second episode is airing, at 10/9 central. Hopefully, I'll catch it this time.

All in all? I thought it was great for a first episode.
Typically, zombies are presented in quick bursts with little characterization to the true hype behind them; survival. Video games express that well enough, but like movies, they're limited. And for this fact, I was instantly psyched. There's a certain leniency allocated to shows that aren't available to game producers and movie directors. Mostly, that would be time. You can pump out episode after episode and build up, whereas the alternative is to hook the audience, sell the product and pray it floats when you ship it out, all in a matter of 120 minutes or a CD's worth of work. And one shots like that are strictly hit or miss.

But this? Oh, this could grow on you.

We open with an unnamed character leaving his vehicle in search of gasoline. He treks down from the road, makes his way around a few upturned and abandoned cars, and advances on some pumps. A sign stops him short, however, as it reads; "No gas." He idles around for a moment,

Mind you, this is all purely fictional, however, I understand that
even fiction can be powerful enough to stir up strong emotions.
I would not recommend this series to anyone who might be
sensitive to the macabre or otherwise grotesque imagery.

Humans and animals both are going to be munched and chomped and
riddled with bullets throughout the series, as exemplified in the first episode alone.

You have been warned~.

Happy Walking.

Heh. Well. See? I tried. I always try.

I have so many ideas and so many talents that I could use but, I just. I don't have the time.

I never have the oppertunity to focus on any one thing...

It really... just. Bums me out.

I tried to write that... the week... before... last? I don't know. Probably about two weeks ago.

Sigh~...

But happiness tops it all!

Know why?

Because I received a letter in the mail last night.

It was from my college of choice. :D

Question of the Day: What are you passionate about? Share some of that passion with me and the rest of my readers.

And a side note: You know. I'd really like to have full on discussions for some of these questions.

If you feel a comment box is too cramped, go ahead and write a blog. Link me to the response.

Let's have a chat! I'd love it. Intelligent conversation, mmm<3.

Inside Jokes and All the Folks

Dear Jamie - HelloGoodbye

"Isn't poetry all about symbolism?"
Yes, why yes it is~. Sometimes.

I suppose depending on how you look at this,
It could either be very cryptic, or very straight-forward.
Take it as you will. /shrugs. It is for my Moon~.

Could I wrap you up in silver threads
Like the water on which the moon treads?
Sprinkle gentle heaps of stardust in your hair
To forever remind me that you are there?

And when the sun should rise again
With fiery tongues there and then,
My hands as swift as bird's wings
With skin cool like porcelain things,
Could I soak up the joy in your smile
With the warmth of it lasting a while?

Would you let me drink in your quirked lips
Loop my arms around your softly swaying hips?
Can I draw down your shoulders in my fingers
And trace your spine where my mark still lingers?

The words fill up the skies, darting among clouds
And we pluck them down like scarlet shrouds,
Our ears once filled with the boisterous volume
Of a thousand songs in their most vibrant of bloom,
And we ask the questions that trail our sleeves
Like Autumn's children all speckled with orange leaves.

Clouds of Sulfur In the Air

And it is time for a rant!
A somewhat rant.

Am I even capable of really ranting something out?
Not like others, I don’t think so… Not often.

Hm.

I live with my younger cousin, ----. He’s ten, I’m almost eighteen—we’re going to butt heads. That is the inevitability of being so distant in age, right? He’s a boy and I’m a girl. More butting heads, yay. He’s also an only child. And I… am an orphan. It’s two totally different worlds.
I knew we weren’t always going to get along peachy-keen, especially with his hormones setting track for puberty and all of that pish-posh, but eh. The boy is a nuisance sometimes, plain and simple. I love him, really I do, but it’s pretty pathetic that I have to leave angry notes on the bathroom mirror asking him not to use my toothpaste to clean the wall.

All of the things he does really only leads down to one thing; maturity. His mother has told me countless times that it takes men longer to mature than girls. Give or take ten years, that’s about her estimation; twenty-five for women, thirty-five for men to start acting like true blue adults. And I’m not entirely arguing with her, man. I’ve seen the examples and I’ve seen the exceptions. I’m a believer~.

The peeve that I’m addressing is… what? What would you call it? Sportsmanship? Competition? It’s just that attitude, that game-face sort of mien that really pisses me off sometimes. It drives me nutty when a person can’t play a game, or compete at something with others, and leave the turf with the attitude dropped. If you can’t handle it, why are you even doing it?
My little cousin has an Xbox 360—along with every other damn gaming system in creation—and recently purchased a month long online membership. His parents are cutting him off when it ends, thank the gods. They don’t like it because he’s on there talking to people and so on and well, they can’t monitor it. His mum is mostly upset with the fact that he’s been running around saying “faggot” and “butt-wipe.” Again, I can’t help but agree. In fact, I really don’t think a ten year old should have much of an online access to anything unsupervised in the first place, you know? No trial runs about it. Too bad, kid, pitch your fits.

What his parents don’t seem to entirely notice? ---- has this thing about games. If he’s not winning, no one is winning because he ends up in tears and rocking to daddy. If he is winning, he either rubs it in everyone’s face and acts like a cocky little snot, or he just. Spams the same moves over and over, until you’re so frustrated that you want to clock him with a sledge. That attitude? That aggressive, in-your-face attitude? After playing Halo for even a few minutes, he’s got it in full-range, with the seekers out.
He’s a good kid. Polite. Sweet, even. (He has a crush on Miss Lanna!) But when he gets off of that game, he has a totally different persona. I can deal with pesky nagging, or even being called a spud-head, but when he’s just plain bitchy? Shut the hell up! Just. Shut up! Or I will strangle you, demon spawn! ~ u ~
I’m not a violent person until I’m provoked. Then I grit my teeth, or I lash with my tongue. But there have been instances where I’ve wanted to smash his Xbox and twist up that little headpiece he uses to talk to whoever the hell is willing to have their profile stalked that day. I think I’ve shoved him maybe once… But I'm never violent. Still, I end up grinding my teeth and biting back a few murky words.
It makes me wonder if it's my own tempter that has such a short fuse or is it the stress? Or is it that ---- knows all of the right buttons to push? I hope I'm not one of those people that react with their fists when it comes to a tense situation. I've always been so silent. I prefer it. My anger smolders, then fizzles out and dies away, and I get this I-don't-care mien.

While I'm on the topic of ----, can I kind of complain about something else?

Why doesn't this boy know how to shut the door when he's peeing? No, seriously, guys. Our bathroom is literally right next to the front door--I've been hit in the nose once or twice by said door coming out of the shower. So, how is he so comfortable? With me right there on the couch. I just. It's so. Disgusting. I don't want to accidentally get a view of your adolescent wang, I don't want to hear you miss the toilet, and I don't want to hear your appreciative little grunts when you finish up.
I'm pretty sure that if I ever were to get married or even move in with a boy/girlfriend? I would feel just the same about them, no matter how personal and close our relationship had gotten. I'm one of those people that doesn't enjoy vulgar humor, cringes when people giggle and say something about their different bodily functions and recesses; I just don't like it. I'm prim. Proper. Not all of the time, no, but I will crinkle my nose if you're acting like your flatulence is just the most fascinating thing on this planet.

Maybe I’m just a stick in the mud.
So, Senior pictures. 45$ for the cheap-y school ones or 150$ for a session with a photographer?
Choices, choices, choices.

Question of the Day: If you’ve ever had a pen pal (or wanted one?), what were they (/ would they be) like? Did you keep in contact or did it flop?

English Assignment

Another in our pilgrimage,
To which I pay this homage,
Is a girl of tempered fever
Known simply as the Achiever.
Her hair is dark, like powdered cocoa,
And soft, but none could claim to know.
Her eyes are bright and of the same color,
Subdued, downcast, but of words they are fuller.
For her mouth is pressed tight
Concealing all she would send aflight
If only a hand would extend
With honest good to intend.
On her shoulder, she carries a bag
That’s torn at one edge like a rag.
Within, she stores two heavy tomes
That equal the weight of bulky stones,
Flowing with knowledge by the page.
You would think she aspired to be a sage.
And perhaps that is correct,
The entire reason she has kept so erect,
Surpassing her childish peers
And pressing on through the years.
Yet if one sought beyond her long-time goal,
They would see she dreams more than any soul,
For a horse of white and gesture sweet,
The one that she’s been hoping to meet.
Her Prince Charming, with hair of gold,
And young blue eyes that speak of old.
This pilgrim’s name I did beseech,
But something else, my heart she did teach.

Question of the Day: Would you save yourself?

Muse I: Border Wars

Miss Lanna is my first muse, it seems~.

I'll take what she's given me, think on it, then tie it all together and we'll see what we get.

This time, it looks like it'll be mostly writing. And maybe a concept scribble here or there.

Burning Trees

I pictured a group of sylvan people, almost instantly. (No, not the tutoring institute. Crack a dictionary if you're lost.) They're not so much elves or mythical folk as they are just people trying to get by. Humans, through and through. Plain. Somewhat of anarchists but not quite nihilists, struggling against the throes of a monarchy. Although I'm not entirely sure about the monarchy idea. I think it's a different force, but similar.

Walls of Ice

Walls of~ ice. That could go in several directions. Immediately, I see a large barricade made up of ice. But then I double over that thought and take it in a psychological sense. Walls that you build between yourself and another, giving them the 'cold shoulder.' And again, I stop and regroup. Most predominantly, I see shields. Shields made of some sort of glass, or crystal. It's thick and reflective. Maybe even frosted, like the windows they put in bathrooms? And I think of magick, that when cast, projects a chilling sensation to those around / near / casting it, etc.

Massive Sunflowers

I don't remember what movie it was but--Dragon Tales! It's a children's cartoon on PBS. There was an episode where the little girl and her brother are flying on the dragon's backs and they come across this expansive.. canyon? I'm assuming. And there are redwood-tall green stalks with massive yellow flowers forming a canopy over the whole of the canyon. The puffs of yellow are some sort of... agressive... lion... flower... things. But that was what I thought of. Which leads me to the idea of an enchanted glade, though I'm not entirely sure of why the glade is enchanted, or if it's really enchanted, or. There are just some awesome farmers harvesting giant sunflower seeds.

War and Treaty

Obviously between the sylvan peoples and the monarchy-esque people. I'm assuming that the treaty would be divulged between them as a sort of amends for any force that they've been pressing on eachother, then an agreement. I think, there was a heavy border control situation between the two and the sylvans wanted nothing to do with the moarch power. But under the treaty, the monarch's people are allowed to travel through and to the sylvan's homes, and sylvan's are safe to pass into the monarch's places so that they might further knowledge, etc...

Third Party

I just keep imagining some really. Unlucky guy. Getting into it with the wrong people. Or rather, he's idly passing by and stumbles upon a murder scene. But that's so insanely overdone, I think I'll shy from that idea. It seems more... appropriate that the third party be strongly associated with one of the sides. Maybe even hates the other one. And s/he... Hm. I believe s/he would be of moderate power, on whatever side they are, and highly respected? So, when s/he ends up in trouble, it really flares the tensions.

Assasination

S/he will most likely be done away with as an example. But something tells me not to kill off the character that quickly. S/he may be important later on, though I'm not entirely sure how. But it's not a everyone-thought-I-was-dead-but-ha-I-fooled-you-suckers kind of thing. Nor is it the surprise, Oh btw, Luke I'm your father. Such a complex character system I see going here.

Rinse, Repeat

When the war starts again, I see that third party element developing into a group of "neutrals" who want to do away with both sides, so that those in the in-between can live peacefully. Not quite a third race, but somewhat of that sense, yes. I don't think there will be many half-breeds. In fact, I assume that in either society, half-breeds and their parents will be murdered without a second thought. Kind of like in Eastern society when a woman is raped and she and the baby are killed for the sin of it...

Sweets and Music

I see a very sweet and innocent character kind of being dragged into the middle fo the war and ultimately ending it, as an entirely different person. I mean a radical flip in personality. Sweet and loving to malicious and unforgiving over the progression of the story. A real good guy that's been thrown for the dumps who doesn't win in the end and maybe even evolves into--I shouldn't have made a reference to Star Wars. Now my brain is fixed on that linear. But no, maybe not the bad guy, but in the end, he's so. Torn up and twisted and he wants to be good but he honestly doesn't know how to anymore, and he kills himself in confusion. o3o Yey suicide.

So!

The two groups...

Humans - They live in a large forest, filled with trees that are about the bulk of mid-grown redwoods. They build their cities around the trees, up of stones and mud and the like. They're really quite civilized but a bit less destructive than their ancestors let off. There are paths between the trees made of cobblestones, sort of like the yellow brick road, and so on. They use a complicated train system which is run by steam and large gears wth strong pulleys, supported by tracks that are made up of stone upon stone and oiled rail, but also use a sort of car that's run on steam alone. Hm, hm, hm... Their clothing is fairly modern, I suppose you could say, but light. Thin. And mostly dresses and convenient pants. Tights, boots. Woody but civilized kinds of clothes with hints of tribal somewhere in there. The government is really built up on a lot of small town ethics. Each settlement has no named leader, but tehre are common figures that will arise to act as leader when time comes. Decisions are made as a whole and as far as laws are considered, they're practically nil. They don't use currency. Temples are built into trees. They're very religious... Hm~. Oh. And women are expected to be modest, yes--but here's the kink. Men are supposed to listen to their wives. If they decide they don't want to do dinner, Hubby better jump. But not many women really stress this respect that they are given to a point of exploitation and so everyone is happy. The only time that anyone really gets testy is when a less-than-honorable woman stresses the belief.

Aryans - The mythical creatures of our tale. Basically, elven men and women that live in large, industrialized cities. Everything is run by magic and electricity. They namely use titanium, rubber and glass to build their cities and so on. The society itself is something caught between a modern day Monarchy and Midieval social classes. There's room for a lot of corruption and darling? There is. They have no steady set religion, but loosely practice under the same beliefs that the Humans have: an all encompassing God. But they're a bit more direct about it. He's only up there watching and eating his snacks, they might as well make it a little interesting, eh? And really, the only reason they're warring is because the Human's naively call them demons, curse them for their plots of taking the Earth into their own hands, as it was intended. Why be ruled by a rock? Clothing is a more fantasy-esque lean toward modern with grey subsituting black. Royalty is mostly defined in their clothing simply as more sohpisticated. Soldiers are the only Aryans that wear black, significant to show their place in society etc. Soldiers may stay wherever and with whoever they please and basically, they don't get slapped on the hand when they do what they want, so long as its not directly harming the Royals. Civilians have to obey them. There is a draft but only when necessary--which isn't often, because most Aryan boys grow up dreaming of being in the army. The Royal army is much smaller and they wear all white--when battling or on a mission--with onyx stones set into the bases of their throats. Typically, though, they pass off plainly as whatever they would wish, whether it be civilian, soldier, or Royal. Their families are not informed of their status and in fact, are sometimes mistaken for deadbeats in society. Weaponry is based on medieval devices with mechanical upgrades. (I suppose a gunblade wouldn't be totally out of place here.) Magic is most easily translated as a form of electricity that may be channeled through objects and used in a manner that is beneficial to the caster.

Next, I'll try to flesh out a sort of plot line... o3o

Question of the Day: If you do dress up for Halloween, what are you going to be this year and is your costume home-made? If you don't, what do you do to celebrate?

I love dressing up, personally. I do it every year. If I buy a costume, I tear it up, re-sew it, make it my own...

Then I leave out milk, honey and breads and whatnot for spirits passing through the veil. (:

Our Mistake.

To make it short?

I don't know if I'm going to have my phone or~ my computer.

Probably will~ but who knows, right?

Point being, I may have some time to do.. whatever!

Caveman style, of course.

So, my assignment to all of you? Inspire me.

Names, places. Plot ideas, images. Dreams and wishes.

It can be fictional or it can be non, I don't care~.

Anything and everything!

And books! Always books.

What type of book should I review first?

What books do you recommend?

(Mind you, my only resource is either my school library for the local one down the road.

Both of which are limited and I would have to order out to receive those rarer Words.)

Go, go, go!

Question of the Day: If you were some sort of ghoul, what would you be?