Thursday, December 18, 2014


Death be my lover, life be my enemy.
 Noise be my betrayal, silence be my luster.
 Darkness be my happiness, light be my anguish.
Madness be my contempt, normal be my boring.
Kings of death, hold me hostage.
Knights of life bring me back.
Water of noise, washes over me.
Forests of silence reach for me.
The shadow of darkness laugh with me.
The light slaughters my happiness.
The fun of the madness is a temptress.
Fields of boring is where u find me laying.


Hold my breath, let me drown, let me sink.

Let the cold jagged arms of the darkness hold me.

Let these tears be my death.

Let the water consume my external skin.

Let my inner self be taken by the madness that resides inside me.

Let this be my last thought.

Let my life be shrouded in this darkness.

Let me be the hatter that has gone undoubtedly mad.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014


The winds blow over the frozen wastelands. There is nothing but ruin for miles. The destruction runs deep into the ground showing the sky its layers that were never supposed to be seen. The redness of this heart is fresh, but all this destruction that It was dealt was all my doing. I wore my heart upon my sleeve, letting it get soaked in hot tomato soup, muddy from playing in the rain and burnt from playing with fire. Why do I leave my soul so exposed? I tear at the seams that are holding my heart captive upon my sleeve. Crying I rip it from the cloths fibers and throw it back into my chest cavity. I turn my ribs inward feeling the pain hearing the crack. But this is all for the best.

1) Most of my writings are dark and infused by some kind of pain, be it physical or mental. In the writing “cage of Darkness”, that was an overview of sorts over my life however the ending that I wrote is the complete opposite of what it really feels like. My stories and poems and sayings are amazing I think however I myself am much darker than that, I believe that if I wrote darker people would be concerned for me and not read the stories that I have sown together. I believe I will take that risk though.
2) Well lately I have been reading up on Paganism. It’s quite interesting if I may say. Maybe if I had the money for some of the things that are needed for it then maybe I would be happier. What am I saying, if I was happier who would be writing these funny stories. (some dark humor)
3) My friend (ex-friend) actually came up with the name if I remember correctly. I like the name it peeks the interest. I would want a lot of people to read it that would be great. I think that the people that read my blog are seeking some kind of vision or inspiration of sorts. Or they are just really bored. I would love it if my readers did comment on some of the things I post.
 4) I have noticed that I cannot write stories nearly as well as I can type them. I’m not sure what it is about actually writing them, maybe I’m too impatient and I think too fast for my pen. What is in my journal is very little. Small snippets of things that seem to be confusing or stupid. I probably will not journal. If anything I will type it.
5) From a page in my journal (this is the longest thing that is written in that spiral note book.):
Shrouded by the darkness that life has thrown at me,
Sitting face to face with death sipping on tea.
My head is too full and my body is too tired,
 My heart and eyes are the liars.
This life is meaningless I think,
All I must do is blink.
Maybe then it would be different,
But they all say life is brilliant.
I guess all I need is a switch,
I say, life is a royal bitch.
6) From my blog: Move on The sound of a screaming heart is more defining then the loudest siren. The pain that is beaten into the bones of this aching body is not even close to bearable, the eyes of passing people judging as always, knowing or not of who you are or what you have done is still like a knife to the heart. I guess I’ll just move on.
7) I plan to write more horror stories, hopefully. I’m not really sure how creative writing is different from writing any other story.
8) I appreciate every one that reads my blog. I will be writing more. Also, please comment your thoughts on my stories even if you hated it. Have a wonderful day. 


The darkness surrounded me as the cold snow kissed my cheeks and the wind bit at my motionless body. The silence of the world was defining, or was it silence? I could never tell anymore. Noise and silence were too similar to me these days.

The questions of my life, existence, happiness bond my heart with chains too heavy for my chest to hold. I couldn’t breathe as I looked out onto the hazy darkness that I call home. The bitterness is growing like a seed on steroids. It’s growing too fast. I believe that I’ll be lost before the age of twenty five, or am I already lost? Am I the black sheep in a cloud of white? Am I the default in society’s repulsive growth? Or am I the outcome of the dead chemical that society threw out?

Ah, it would seem I left you speechless, your shoes are full of the pain that flows here. You may not understand me nor my thinking or you may think that I am an attention seeking maggot but I do not control you nor what you think.

Happiness is a needle in the darkest forest and I try to reach it, to seek it. I find it sometimes but it would seem that the needle is a magical thing and likes to see you struggle.

Nevertheless, I will keep walking, ignoring society and all of its “perfects”. For I am the imperfection, the sickly dog that society has shot leaving the dead to claim. I smile and laugh but I still ignore and try and move on to find the needle that hides within the darkness.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

101 things about me.

1. As good as I am art, I suck at painting.
2. I have never has a pet that I could call mine besides the neon fish that ate each other.
3. I love the suspense and the gore that comes with horror films and books.
4. The only movie that has ever really scared me was the possession of Michael King.
5. I would really like an Ouija board.
6. I cannot remember that many things from my past. Particularly my middle school and freshman year; however I still feel the emotional pain from the things that I know I have done and the things that I have blocked out of my mind.
7. I have depression and it has been getting worse but I can live with it. I’m not medicated but that’s ok, I’ll be fine.
8. I actually like singing even though I’m really bad at it.
9. I like writing stories but for some reason I cannot write nor draw anything happy.
10. My favorite colors are midnight blue and a deep red because the colors remind me of gothic and Victorian styles.
11. I don’t like relying on anybody or anything.
12. One time last year I wanted to build a pub/inn that looks exactly like the ones in Skyrim.
13. Skyrim is an RPG (role playing game) that I really like.
14. In the past couple of months I have had two boyfriends and one suitor of sorts.
15. I love warm smells but in spring when I’m cleaning I like the smell of the honeysuckle wax melt. 16. As much as I love teddy bears, I only have one.
17. I used to be able to sit down and read a book but now, I can never find a book that really interests me.
18. Death does not scare me, it is the way I may die that may scare me. Drowning, being buried alive, eaten, and caused undeniable pain and torment.
19. When I am dead, I would like to be cremated or if I am still young, put in a glass coffin above ground.
20. I don’t really like board games because I always lose.
21. I am starting to become quiet vulgar.
22. The bands that I really like are: Bring me the Horizon, Set it Off, Suicide silence, Falling in Reverse, Pierce the Veil, Of Mice and Men, Crown the Empire and We Came as Romans.
23. I think I like bears because they look soft and fluffy.
24. My favorite feeling in the world would be falling asleep in someone’s arms and knowing that everything is going to be ok.
25. My favorite kinds of tea is Earl Gray and English breakfast with sugar and honey.
26. I have never fallen asleep in school before, well that was before I entered Mr. Abromovites class. 27. When I was little I wanted to be many things, one of them (when I was about 8 or 9) was a ballerina. My dad told me no because I was too fat and big boned for that. When I was in close to turning 17 I wanted to be a mortician, but my dad said no and that there was something wrong with me because no 16 year old wants to be a mortician.
28. Fact: I loth my father greatly.
29. The way I think about myself is that I am ugly, fat, stupid, and annoying. This is because I have been told it so often for so long I started to believe it.
30. My favorite color is a red Camellia.
31. One day I want to live somewhere pretty.
32. When I was little my dad slammed a trunk door on my head and I have a scare from it.
33. When I am angry towards someone I am ice cold. I don’t care about their feelings nor their very existence.
34. I care too much about people and I put them above me and try to make them happy even though it hurts me.
35. If I go hunting, I want to hunt elk or moose.
36. I believe in aliens, the supernatural and magical creatures.
37. I don’t really like Halloween. I love Christmas though.
38. My mind is very dark.
39. Back when I was 14 or 15 or early 16, I used to drink. Now I won’t even touch it.
40. Ive never been to an actual party.
41. When I talk about myself I feel as if I am being self-centered, a know it all, stupid, pitying myself, makes other people think that I want attention and that’s why I don’t like talking about myself.
42. I can’t drown my demons they know how to swim.
43. My favorite kind of cake is carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.
44. I like ruby’s but I also like sapphires.
45. If I ever get married I want my ring to be simple with only one small diamond.
46. If I ever have a child I want a boy to be born first and then a girl. This is because the boy can protect the girl and if my husband and I die I would like my son to protect the girl even more.
47. Something that grosses me out is people can just lay on public floors without thinking of all of the germs and just ewe.
48. I like red plaid over blue plaid.
49. I like Italian, Hawaiian, Irish, English and some Japanese foods.
50. One time I had a spinach peanut butter smoothie. It was really good but it turned my teeth green. 51. Sometimes I’ll go hungry if I’m not at my house because I don’t want my breath to smell bad.
52. I really haven’t been to that many social events.
53. I got tired of wishing my life was like the characters off of shows and movies so I don’t really watch that much TV.
54. A couple of kid shows that I used to watch when I was little was Mr. Rogers (my favorite), Telly Tubbies, and the old Scooby Doo.
55. I really like tattoos, I might get one.
56. I used to jam out to the Jonas brothers when I was 13.
57. I think about a lot of things. Most of the time I over think.
58. “What doesn’t kill you makes you wish you were dead.” Is one of my favorite quotes.
59. When I say I’m fine or I’m alight, I’m probably not. When I say don’t worry about me, I it because I can deal with it.
60. I don’t like how chalk feels.
61. I prefer lamps over fan lights.
62. I like rustic cabins over modern day houses.
63. I like incorporating some sort of stitching in my stories.
64. One time I spent hours cutting out 82 small palm sized snowflakes.
65. I don’t think that I have ever liked elmo but I do like the counting vampire.
66. Sometimes I like watching British shows.
67. My favorite super hero is Ironman.
68. I have never had a gingerbread man cookie but I want to try one.
69. I prefer writing in black pen.
70. I get on pintrest to find recipes.
71. I like hoodies.
72. One time riley and I walked the mall for eight whole hours just talking.
73. I like old figurines.
74. I prefer dead leaves over alive leaves.
75. Most of my cloths consist of black.
76. I make really good pumpkin chocolate chip muffins.
77. I use three dots a lot when I text.
78. I refuse to eat pork.
79. I don’t like doing pottery.
80. I like walruses and the elephant seals.
81. I don’t really like the sun.
-Riley Laboyteaux said:
1. She likes to cuddle.
2. Personal time with someone is important to her.
3. Emotions are important to her.
4. She doesn’t like to talk to people.
5. I don’t like it when she is depressed.
6. I don’t like how she thinks about herself.
7. I don’t like her whole family.
8. I love her eyes.
9. I like her hair.
10. She tries to make people happy even when it hurts.
-Bland Landers said:
1. She loves kitty cats.
2. She likes gothic interior.
3. She likes watching scary movies.
4. She is super caring.
5. She loves the snow and snowflakes.
6. She used to live in a haunted house.
7. She loves blankets and books.
8. She wants to own a library someday.
9. She loves to decorate houses.
10. She hates swimming in large bodies of water.

Monday, November 24, 2014

move on

The sound of a screaming heart is more defining then the loudest siren. The pain that is beaten into the bones of this aching body is not even close to bearable, The eyes of passing people judging as always, knowing or not of who you are or what you have done is still like a knife to the heart. I guess I’ll just move on.

Friday, November 7, 2014

This is....

This is a girl Posing for a picture That she know wont Be noticed Brown hair straitened Face with little to no Makeup Fingers knotted up Pulling the hair back So the camera Captures her face Her smile almost perfect If not for the eyes The eyes were not smiling This is a girl hiding behind a false mask, Too worried about other people Rather than worrying about herself To hopeless to want hope at all, This is a picture of me.

Thursday, October 30, 2014

halloween spirits

The night was cold as a touch of spooky settled on the land, The wind carried the bats with its whispers, All of the pumpkins on the streets had died hours before three, Lose candy was being taken by the night creatures, Which we all know that they would prefer a fresh body, Rather than this sweet chemical treat, The orange had faded and the black remained, As all the little witches lay in their bed, Dreaming of the happy things, Forgetting about the scary things, But never to wake again. My favorite Halloween treats are Twix (I love Twix), the popcorn balls, suckers, m&m’s , Hershey’s milk chocolate bars, and sometimes starburst. I cant really think of the best one I have ever received; however, I do know all of the ones I absolutely hate and the reasons why. I absolutely hate kit-kats because one day I opened a kit-kat and there were maggot things in there, it was beyond gross. I didn’t eat it I just threw it in the trash and from then on I have refused to eat kit-kats, I have a good reason too. Snickers are nasty as well. I opened one and took a bite and it tasted old like really old. Some candy’s that I don’t really care for are gopstopers, laffy taffy, sweet tarts, and jelly bellies. 1 large egg 2 cups pickle juice 4 stalks of celery 1 rotten tomato 2 tablespoons onion salt 1 ½ cup old eggnog 2 ¾ cup of old potato chips (any flavor) This potion would get you out of school for the next week.

Rules over madness

I woke up to see my nightlight being engulfed in darkness. I closed my eyes trying to pretend that it was not there but the sound of the carpet moving was too eager to remind me to be afraid. The thing breathed and its breathing sounded like a thousand child’s screams and its smell came from the darkest pits of hell no doubt. I kept my breathing down, for which I knew that if I pretended to sleep and it was convincing enough, that this monstrous darkness would leave me in peace for yet another night. But then I got this unknown courage to throw back the blankets and look it in the face, if it even had a face. I couldn’t stop myself as my eye lids flew open and my arms moved swiftly to uncover my body. My mouth wouldn’t open no matter how much I wanted to scream. It was like someone sat me up to face the dark mass. My feet hit the floor and I was inches away from the pale white face or mask of a thing that I knew outwitted me. “Child…” it spoke in at least five different voices. My mouth opened but did not speak. It looked at me with its black nothingness eyes then began to speak once more. “Why are you awake? Are you afraid of a higher power? Are you afraid that your god cannot protect you from me? What are you afraid of?” it said as it bowed to me and touched my cheek with its long black wispy finger. It was cold yet somehow reassuring but menacing and still wanted. I set my hands on my lap and I began to speak. “I was jolted awake by your unprepared arrival,” I stood up and turned on my lamp. “I would have made you something nice and cleaned up a bit before you had come.” I motioned to the room that had piles of close and body parts lying about. “Now as goes for power,” I looked down at my hands, “I crave it, and you can say I need it.” I looked up. I had no idea why all my deepest thoughts and wants were showing themselves now, but it felt somehow right. “In the past three days I had dismembered at least five homeless people and two highly proclaimed business men and all of their eyes were dug up by a spoon and put in a glass jar. And here you are asking me if my god would protect me,” I laughed. “I am a god in my own right.” The creatures smile grew. “Now being afraid of something…” I put on a quizzical look and thought for a moment. “ I suppose I am afraid of being anything less than a god that rules over madness.”

Thursday, October 9, 2014

window poem hoppers house

I’m looking in. Seeing the stained blue walls, Of a kitchen. Outdated. To the left of the kitchen, Lay a body of a man On the rotting floor. Motionless, dead. Just like the air that settled Around me. Everything about this Scene looks wrong, The blood pooling out. Covering the floor. Red. I got this feeling as if I shouldn’t be here, But my feet wouldn’t move My eyes wouldn’t budge. I’m always watching, Always waiting for Something Guess this was it. The crickets started to chirp As the sun descended As it watched me Looking in to the dreary house. I heard the humming of a lullaby far behind me, I turned around quickly And saw it standing far way, I couldn’t make out exactly who or what It was, but I knew it was there And I knew I was next.

Thursday, October 2, 2014

The Harp (Harris Burdick)

The water rolled over the rocks and the wind flowed through the trees. There was a faint melody playing, not caring who hears its lustful noise. There was the breaking and crunching of a man that longed for this melody. He was empty inside, he wanted to die until this melody filled his void. He had walked for hours till he came to a waterfall and to his surprise there was a golden harp playing softly by the waters edge. With the harp brought him comfort in his dieing hours, for which he had poisoned himself for seeing no reason to live any longer. He sat by the harp and his vision started to fade as he thought of how cold it was to die. So its true, he thought, its really true. And he faded from this world.

Monday, September 29, 2014

Friday, September 26, 2014

Black Sacrament (First and last line)

The sky above the port was the color of television, turned to a dead channel. The sky started to let go of the water it had collected in small sprinkles. The six bodies bobbed in the salty water. Six bodies, six children all under the age of ten. They had been dead for hours, missing for 74 hours. The police arrived and started to fish the bodies out of the water, being as careful as possible. The first child that they had brought out and set carefully on an open body bag, was a little girl named Mary-Ann Sarah Patterson. She was Seven years old and had curly red hair. She had thick string tied through the tops of her hands and her feet. She also had a string that went around her neck. She was dressed in a blue Dutch styled dress. In fact the next three girls were just the same. There was a four year old named Jessica Lain Monetary that had her mouth sewed up, probably to keep her from being loud. There was two six year olds named Lacy Ray Smith and Patricia Kaylee Deeds. These two had their eyes sewn shut. The two boys had masks on. One of tragedy and the other of comedy. Tragedy wore a blood red vest and comedy wore a stall green. The police tried to take the masks off but they were sewn on. The two boys also had the same thick cord that the girls did. The police put all the bodies into a body bag and then went home. They didn’t search the area, they didn’t look for evidences. They didn’t even look for witnesses. The police had been looking for the children for 74 hours and by the time they found them they were tired. They had decided to pick up the search for more clues the next day. Later that night the police captain’s two daughters, Louise and Sydney, were getting tucked in by their parents. While the parents were walking out the father happened to look over to their desk and saw pictures that they had been drawing. The father walked over and picked up the first picture. The picture shown of a person dressed in a jester’s costume with fiery red hair. He was bending over a stage with six puppet sticks in his hands. The six puppets all looked like the six children that the police found. “Louise and Sydney, who is this?” the police captain said as he turned around to face them. Louise and Sydney sat up quickly and smiled and looked at their father. “Daddy you don’t know the Jester man?” Sydney said as she grinned at her dad then to Louise and back to her dad. “He is the one that runs everything. He is the puppet master, he is Cicero. You know that daddy. Sydney and I talk to him every night.” “Girls I don’t think I have. Can I meet him now?” the father said as he sat on Sydney’s bed. The smile on the two girls face went away and they both looked at the space in between their beds. It was like someone was talking to them. They turned and looked at their father and smiled. “Well turn around and you can talk to him.” He turned around and saw nothing. He smelled a putrid smell and felt the hot breath of someone breathing. Yet no one was there. He stood there frozen. Then all of a sudden he fell to the ground. When he awoke he was in a large room. The putrid smell that laid in his conscience was no more. He tried to move but was held down by the chains around his limbs. And he was cold, he was freezing. The cold slab of rock burned his back with the ice. The room was ill lit and the air rumbled with dust. A door opened and beings in red and black cloaks filled the room. They surrounded the room and set their gaze to the man struggling on the altar. A menacing laugh also filled the air, seeming to come from everywhere. “You couldn’t have just left well enough alone.” A voice, not friend but foe said with such madness. A jester popped into the menacing picture. “What do you want from me?” the man felt frightened and yet somehow brave. The jester laughed and skipped about. He jumped onto the slab on which the man was pinned down against. “Well you see Mr. Police man…” he giggled “my associates and I” he pointed around the room then looked at the man that lay beneath him “don’t appreciate you trying to find my toys…my puppets.” The jesters smile faded and he looked at the man with utter hatred. The man looked at the jester above him with disgust and said, “how could you say they are your toys, they are just children. You’re a sick fuck!” he yelled The jester glared and got down to the man’s face, “do not forget whose house you are in and where your place is,” he whispered “Mr. Police Man!” he said with such hate, his face was twisted and full of madness. The man’s face turned white and he felt the warm rancid breath of the jester. The jester stood up and walked five paces to the right and turned around to face the man with a big smile on his face. “Now, I am Cicero, the puppeteer, the king of madness….” His voice turned grim. “The jester of the Dark Brotherhood." The jester motioned to his followers and said “Come, Children, let us shut up the box and the puppets, for our play is played out."

Wednesday, September 10, 2014


Caged by society, Muted by madness, Chained by containment. Freedom lusts, Happiness laughs. The cage rusts, The muted becomes loud, The chains break.


One second I saw black, then I was running into the brightest night that ever shown its face. The blindfold that had seized my sight was long gone by now, laying on the ground not knowing what to do with its self. The dead leaves and the earthly things crumbled and snapped underneath my weight. I saw the towers of the city at least a mile away once I cleared the menacing woods. I had no idea where I was for the past days, I could barely remember my name. Oddly enough I kept running. Whoever or whatever took me, I couldn’t let them get me again. The cuts and gashes that covered my body burned with the autumn air. The dried blood cracked with every movement and my mussels hurt more than ever. But I kept running. I didn’t dare go on the road or anywhere close to it. They might find me. I couldn’t feel the earth underneath my feet anymore the cold had possessed them making them numb. My lungs burned within my chest yet I kept running. I came in to a big field with cows and a little house that rested on the edge of it, in the direction of the city. The house was sleeping softly. This field was big but I was driven by my will to live to cross it. I was running as hard and as fast as I could when I saw it out of the corner of my eye. A ball of light at the edge of the woods directly to my left. Could that have been what tormented me? I had no doubt in my mind. Fear welled up inside me and I ran faster, harder. It started to come towards me quickly. I knew I couldn’t out run it, but I had to try. I was coming upon the house when I noticed that the ball of light right behind me. I plunged into the darkest hole and it was over.

Monday, September 8, 2014

Sleepover Scare

The little child sat on his bed with only one thought in his head. A sleepover of fun and every chore was done. He picked up the phone and called his friends, one by one. They all came later that evening, one by one. The children stayed up all night but when the clock struck one, the host said “Let’s play a game. A game of fun. A game of hide and go seek.” The children all agreed with the host. The host was the seeker and naturally the children were the hiders. “Ten….Nine…Eight…Seven…Six…Five…Four...Three...Two, One. Ready or not here I come” The host counted with such joy and yet there was a hint of madness in his tone. He went to the kitchen and found none of his friends. He took a knife from the dishwasher and then the eeriness of the whole game started to settle in. One of the boys was hiding under the bed, another was in a closet and the last was hiding in the dryer. The host walked slowly. “…London…bridges… falling down… falling down…..falling…” he stopped singing as he stepped into his room. He held the knife behind him, resting softly in his hand. His eyes were timid yet filled with the madness that lived in his soft tone. He studied the room. He knew of the little boy under the bed, holding his breath so the host, his friend, could not hear him. The little boy shifted as the host walked around the bed and looked in the closet. The host walked to the end of the bed and got down on all fours. He peered right into the little boys eyes with the only thought of causing him unlimited pain and torment. He stared at him for what seemed like hours before he dragged him out and plunged the knife into the heart of the innocent child. The scream of the child aroused the tortured soul of the merciless host. So long he had craved the blood and the sight of the blood oozing out of the body. He took the knife out of the motionless body and stood up over him. The host put on a smile and started to walk out of the room to find the other boys. “London bridges…falling down…” The other two boys heard the scream but thought nothing of it. They heard the host singing and thought nothing of it. Little did they know that they were going to die, one by one. They giggled and laughed and held their breath when the host got closer. “…Falling down…Falling down…London bridges falling down. Falling...” the host stepped in front of the closet and turned the handle slowly. He then cracked the door to where only a sliver of light ran in the closet and clutched onto the little boys face. The little boy saw the host get in front of the crack and peer in. He saw the menacing grin on the host and he felt the aura of the dark infested being that stared strait at him with such beautiful madness. The host opened the door and stood there, knife at his side. The little boy had a big smile on his face “oh you found…why do you have a knife?” his smile faded as the host closed the door and darkness engulfed the two. “…down…” the host whispered. He stabbed the knife into the boy’s right eye and shoved his arm into the little boy’s mouth with such force that it broke his jaw. The host ran the knife over the boy’s throat swiftly. His jaw just dangled and his eye and throat just oozed blood as the host began to stab him in the stomach. The little boy just lay there in a heap of flesh and blood. Motionless. The host stood up and walked out of the closet, dripping in the blood of the two fourteen year olds that lay victim from societies spawn of darkness. “London bridges…falling…down…my…fair…lady…” the host whispered once he came into the laundry room. The host put down the knife and walked over to the dryer. He turned the knob to high heat and braced himself against the dryer door. “Sorry, friend.” the host spat in such an evil snare. He pressed start and the banging and screaming began. After a few minutes it all was silent. The host opened up the dryer and the burnt and broken body tumbled out. The host kicked it and walked out of the room with the light on. In fact every light in the house was on until the host walked out of the house and disappeared like the morning fog rolling through the soft grass.

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Burnt Darkness

Burnt orange by the sun, Left to plunge into the deepest darkness, Rotting like a fallen plum.

Wild Truffle

With all this emptiness, In all of the deepest darkness, Leave me to my madness, Drowning in my agony. Tripping on the stupid things, Rusting in my own self pity Untrusting of other people, Future lies, Fame dies Laughter with slaughter Essentially everyone must die.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Cage of Darkness

The air was crisp and was wisping by in soft breezes. The sunlight was beaming with pride against the soft blue wings of the tufted titmouse flying about the sky with little effort. She was the fastest bird in her generation and she strived to keep it that way. She was always so happy. The little bird was flying around, looking at the scenery and loving every moment of it. She loved how the sky bent down and kissed the earth and she loved how gallantly the breeze took her and the clouds through the sky, showing them all of the wonderful things. She loved how much the air treasured her and whispered in her ears every time she took flight. She loved the world and the world loved her. She happened to look down upon the grassy planes of the north, to discover a beast lying in the soft weeds and flowers. The little bird was unconcerned but almost curious. What was a four legged beast to her anyway? She had wings, she could fly. However she seemed to notice, which tugged and pulled at every corner of her interest, that this beast was bigger. Much bigger. 'He must be very strong,' the little bird thought. 'His coat is quite beautiful.' She perched herself on a dying tree not too far away from the beast. She pondered for a moment.' he looked quiet inviting although he is wouldn't hurt if I just went to go get a closer look.' She took flight again and glided to where the beast was peacefully sleeping, in a world only he could see, in the only breath he could breathe comfortably. She landed by his paws. In his paws lay many miles of walking, in his legs lay many painful roads, in his claws lay many lost souls. She studied his face, scars of many won battles but more from lost ones. His face looked sad almost lonely. Sigh, however the little bird did not take into mind these details, she was capsizes on how strong his claws and fangs were. she wanted them...she wanted to trade her wings for fangs and live seldom on the earth’s crust, giving up on the skies love for her.... what a stupid bird... The beast awoke and looked at the bird. "little bird what business do I owe to you?" the beasts voice was sad, it was like crying, it was like loneliness but of course the little bird did not hear this in his voice. She spoke, "Beast of the land, I would like nothing more than your fangs and your claws, you beast, can have my wings. I have grown tired of them anyway." At that very moment the beast did not look like pain or loneliness he looked surprised and almost happy, but not quiet. The beast sat up. "Little bird that rides the breeze with such ease and has freedom like no other, are you sure that this," he put out his paw and showed her his claws and beamed his sharp teeth. "Is what your heart desires?" Now the little bird looked puzzled and then as sure as a rock hitting the ground she grinned, "Beast, your mother is the earth but you love the sky, I will give you the names of the wind the love of the sky and the whispers of the air for your mother and her fruitfulness. I do not lead you into trickery or death I give you a new life full of wonderful things that will make you joyess once more." And with this the beast nodded. He knew what was to come of the little bird once she traded such a beautiful privilege for such a hell bound right. They traded their bodies and the little bird was now the beast and the beast was now the little bird. He flew away giving her his thanks and road on the wind leaving her grounded and happy...for now. She walked and ran and played in the fields but sure enough days after day the world became lonely, she, once the little bird, was lonely. She could never catch up with the birds of the air she could never find anyone...nobody was there anymore....she was left by her own self abandonment... Years went on and she was overcome by loneliness. She, because of this loneliness made madness and then she fell deep into the darkness of her own creation. She built herself a cage of darkness and stayed comfortably in the never ending pain and darkness. Little birds would fly in and she would kill them. She had believed that no one could save her and that there was no room for happiness or friendship, or love. The only thing she ever loved was darkness and all its beautiful madness and painful agony. She grew tired; her heart was week and weighed heavily in her chest. Then on a most dreadful autumn day there happened to be a bird that flew right onto the beast’s doorstep. She was going to kill it and eat it but the bird spoke to her with such kindness, it was like some of the heaviness got lifted off. The birds name was best. She became the beasts friend and accepted her for who she was; however over the course of time, the two of them fell apart and the heaviness returned with a force truly heart breaking. Best flew away one day and never returned and that's the day the darkness swallowed the beast whole. She never did see another beast like her on the earth, throughout her walking's. She walked in darkness once again. The beast hated herself for trading her wings. For more than one hundred years she walked and walked. Never happy, forever lonely, forever residing in darkness. Her life was over she thought, while lying in a meadow full of dead sparrows, there was no point in anything anymore... she wanted nothing more than to die... "Come...come to me...out of hatred...come to me." a voice from the wind spoke to her. The wind spoke to her after all these years, after her treachery the wind still loved her. She rose up in a brisk movement and fallowed the voice. She followed this voice for days, bringing her to new places she had never been. The voice of the wind brought her to a small opening in a forest with a small brook flowing through it. "Go...find the ones you seek..." the voice stopped whispering after the confusing message it held inside the beasts mind. She went atop a hill in the opening and saw something that took every single painful thing and every agonizing breath away from her and filled her soul with happiness. At the bottom of the hill were five beasts, five that welcomed her, five that brought her joy. They were her happiness and her joy. She found her happiness and her love once more. But that's how happy ending are supposed to end. Unfortunately that is not how it ends because there is no such thing as happy endings nor did the darkness ever leave.


Friday, August 22, 2014

I am...

I am… I am hot tea and hot chocolate, cookies and milk, Cold weather and snow, fireplaces and blankets, Books of great mystery, romance and tragedy, Baking and cooking cookies, breads and soups, Cleaning the house, not missing a spot, Staying up late and getting up early, Drinking black coffee, Candy canes and Christmas are surly my favorite, Twinkling lights and a beautiful Christmas tree, Making snowflakes out of paper, Forests of great beauty, Lakes of great treachery, Mountains of great happiness, Rivers of great sadness, Staying warm all of the time, Soft teddy bears I like to cuddle with.