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Intoxication
Amber liquid quaffed down
Happiness in a bottle passed around
Friends cheering, smiles thrown
But in my eyes are nightmares home.

Music blares and we are bourne
Upwards til all shame be scorned.
Now we find ourselves alight
Between ebon ground and starry night.

And grateful are we to see
The vision of a humble tree;
Root bound stock and firm
It has held the worlds turn.

Running now the wind does bite
And the nightmares for a moment fight
But faithful bottle has been found
To quench my thoughts as I drown.

For a moment though her smile shone
And my spirits have thus been blown,
Collapsing now upon hard cold stone
Friends have come to hoist me home.
In sorrow I suffer not alone.

There's a tipping point
When you know
Things just aren't right
An ache
Undefinable restlessness
That comes from understanding
Fate doesn't always win
And love
Does not conquer all

Here, have some Scourtney.

You Talk Too Much

“Ugh, could the connection here get any slower?!” grumbled the brunette, still fiddling around with her PDA. The CIT had been sitting in the farmhouse all morning long, while her boyfriend tended to his daily chores; his pappy had been rather sickly lately, so Scott had been working all around the dirt farm much more than usual, and now he was forced to endure some of his girlfriend’s petty complaints. Man, he really liked her, but sometimes she just really grated on his nerves… Heh, that was Courtney for you.

The ginger wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead, and then proceeded to give an eye roll to her witty remarks. “Are you just gonna sit there and do nothin’ all day while I work my butt off over here?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be sitting here doing ‘nothing’ if I didn’t have to wait on you!” Courtney griped, crossing her arms. “You told me we were going to do something together today, Scott! The least you could do is hurry it up!”

Scott just sighed and slowly placed the bucket he had been carrying down. “Well, gee, princess. Excuse me for actually doing my job. You know, the least you could do is actually help me out instead of wastin’ your time on that thing…”

“And risk myself getting dirty and reek of foul body odor like you? Absolutely not.” she replied. “And do NOT call me that! I thought I made it perfectly clear on how I didn’t want you to call me by that stupid pet name!”

“Heh, what can I say?” he chuckled, briefly glimpsing back at her. “It’s a force of habit: I just love seein’ the look on your face whenever I do. It’s hilarious.”

“Well, I say stop it right now!” the CIT retorted, now becoming quite cross with him. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?!”

The teen soon froze, as the ginger then gently knelt down onto the hay beside her. Courtney just stared at him with widened eyes, wondering what it was he was about to do; Scott just smiled, staring deeply back into hers. He inched himself even closer, their noses now almost touching. The brunette continued to eye him warily, and before she knew it, the other teen had pulled her in for a kiss. Courtney hesitated at first, but shortly gave in and kissed Scott back; she tried to savor every last moment of it before the two finally had to break away for air.

He then stood himself back up over her and smirked, eyeing the redness that was now visible across his girlfriend’s face. Courtney just gave off a dumbfounded expression that made Scott snicker, as he then quietly exited the farmhouse. That was certainly one way to shut her up.

drifting, falling through the sky
we look over houses and city lights
up between the clouds, in between stars
there in the distance i can see it
getting closer and closer
don't pull me back now....
i almost had it...
we land softly

here's two poems I posted earlier on this site.

Rising from a tattered bed:

as I rise from my tattered bed
when the sun is barely shining
my dreams and nightmares have all fled
so my soul puts on a lining

each day is new or so they say
though many feel the same
some memories I wish would stay
others set to a flame

the morning begins to make its mark
as the sun lets out its gentle rays
in every river, in every park
the homes in which it stays

and as the sun sits upon its throne
in the middle of the day
with power man has never known
whatever games they play

evening comes now soft and quick
as the sun lets out a dying moan
a beauty of which one does not grow sick
in the matter that is shown

night arrives much too soon
as the stars are gently spread
their beauty is left ample room
as I crawl back into my bed



A shout out to outcasts:

this one goes out to the quiet ones
who are often cast a scornful eye
who endure many vicious taunts
With a collective sigh

This one goes out to the plain ones
Whose looks don’t always shine
whose enemy is February
for they receive no valentines

this one goes out to the strange ones
who we may never comprehend
who consider it an honor
just to have a single friend

this one goes out to the loners
who wear a badge of seclusion with pride
who are not afraid to sit alone
or store their soul inside

and this one goes out to all outcasts
of all colors, genders, and creeds
for the world truly needs diversity
and you will plant the seeds

^ I love the outcasts poem especially. Thanks for sharing!!

Tonight is the night when I started the work on my post-apocalyptic epic.

First lines goes:

Sand and dust, that semed to be the only f*****g thing this land had to offer.
Sand and dust.. why the f**k was it everywhere? there was no valid point in covering the lands in this useless s**t.
Who would ever need this much f*****g sand? Someone needs to answer this question, someone needs to explain this.
Someone needs to die... Soon.

This is a short poem I wrote called "Indifferent."

Fine, be that way.
I'm out of here.
Goodbye.



(it's about me going away from a site I like when one of my friends who I am not sure is a friend or not is being too indifferent, not showing any liking or hating for me.

This short story is called Silent
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Bye mum” I yelled as I charged through the front door and ran toward school.

I had slept in and was now very late but it was a beautiful day for a run

Our neighbour had gotten his lawnmower out ready to cut his grass and there where

several cars on the street with engines running but no one in them.

It was a little strange but these things happen sometimes.

When I arrived at school the playground where empty so I rushed inside and up stairs

to my class.

I mean I can’t possibly be that late right?

I burst in to my class and said “sorry I’m…late!?” the class was empty.

“What’s going on?” I asked myself

Looking around the class I could see the bags and coats of some of my friends “hmm

they must be in an assembly”

I through my bag down at my chair and rushed back down the stairs and headed toward

the hall but when I got there it was empty.

“Hello” I called “is anyone here” I ran around the school looking in all the rooms.

“This isn’t funny come out” I pleaded but there was only silence “COME OUT!” I

screamed and then ran from the empty school.

I ran back home “Mum? Dad?” I called but there was no reply.

I went in to the kitchen, there was a half made bowl of cereal on the counter and some

eggs where burning on the stove.

The living room was empty too except for a plate with a half eaten slice of toast on it.

All the other room where the same, empty and silent I left the house and shouted “MUM

DAD ANYONE HELP”

I went from house to house shouting for anyone to hear but there was never an answer.

Tears began to flow freely down my face and finally by the apple tree outside number 23 I

collapsed my knees as darkness clouded my vision.


When I woke it was already night & started to walk back home.

The darkness was all consuming but for the few eerie orange glows of in the distance.

While walking back I noticed for the first time that there was no sound of any animals at

all just the odd occasional rustle of leaves.

Even I was being as quiet as I could, I felt like an intruder here in this silent world.

My fear started to fade and I stopped walking as I realised I was alone, the only living thing

in the entire world.

I’m not sure how long I stood there or why I was no longer afraid but I just knew that I had

been robbed of everything by this silence.

My family, friend, animals, feelings, thoughts everything had been devoured by it.

When the sun began to rise I snapped out of my empty trance and went home.

The house smelled of the burnt eggs, the pan had been burnt through as well it was lucky

that the house had not burnt down.

I turned off the stove and threw out the pan then proceeded to clean the house.

If they return no ‘when’ I corrected myself they will want the house to be clean.

When I was finished I made myself some breakfast and then fell asleep.

I turned on the T.V. the next day hoping that there might be something on it but there was

nothing same with the radio.

The internet still worked but there was nothing on it so I decided to stay at home till they

return.


They have been gone a week now and I’m starting to run low on food so I have decided to go

to the shops.

I wanted to be scared, I would of before but now the empty rows of food with the smells of rotting

old fruit did not affect me at all.

I walked past trolleys with food of all kinds in left there by the ones who had gone and picked the

thing I wanted off the shelf.

When I was done I went to the till area and left some money there that I had gotten out of my

mum’s purse there.

I may be all alone but I’m no thief.

Finally I went to the video store and picked up a film I wanted to see “I’ll return it tomorrow” I told

the air before going home.

That night the power finally failed.


The next day I sat at the kitchen table trying to think of a way to restore power to the house.

“Well I could go next door they have solar panels” I ventured “but this is my house” I scolded

myself.

“What do we do then take their solar panels and put them on our house?” I retorted “that’s not a

bad idea I’m sure they wouldn’t mind”

“Oh really and how do you plan to connect them up them? I don’t know”

It looked hopeless with out the internet how would I find out how to connect them “well we could try

the library” I offered “the library! Oh course” I chirped happily.

I spent the day looking through so many books till I finally found the one I needed but it still took me

a week to get the panels moved from next door and working.


It’s been over a month now the water has stopped so I’m drinking the bottled water from the shop.

I can no longer use the bathroom at all and washing anything is out of the question.

Worse still the food at the shop is starting to go bad so I trying to get as much as I can back home

to my freezer.

I load a trolley with as much as I can push along and head for the till but as I open my mother’s purse

I notice that it’s empty.

I look at the food with longing I know I want it but I can’t just take it.

Tears finally come to me again as I start to push the trolley from the shop I’m nothing but a thief now.


A week after and I’m at the table again “we’re running out of food”

“Well what can we do?” I sighed

“Nothing we’re going to starve to death”

“NO!” I shouted back “there has to be a way”

“What about growing it?” I asked politely

“Growing what?” I yawned back

“FOOD of course”

“That’s not such a bad idea we’ll need seed though”

“There some in the shop I’ll get them” I offered

“Thanks” I said “then I better go to the library and find out how to do it we’ll meet back here later” with

that I left to do my jobs.

I searched through the library and took the books I would need then raided the shop and took as many

seed and as much gardening equipment as I could.

I also stopped by the video store to see if they had any thing about gardening in which I took along with

all the movies I wanted to see.

It took a few months of having to eat stale food but now I can enjoy the wonderful delights of my garden.


It’s been so long now that I can hardly remember, I guess I’m an adult now.

Walking around I see houses covered in moss, the roads full of weeds and the creeping vines as they

reach across to reclaim the land.

Gardens are overgrown with thick lush grass and the ground is covered by a thick pile of leaves from the

previous autumn.

The sky is so clear and the air oh the air filled with the musty smell of the leaves is unimaginable.

I no longer talk to myself now I’ve accepted that I’m all that’s left and no ones coming back.

I tried to explore for a little while but there was no real point I’m happy you see.

Happy just to tend to my small garden and watch the world grow around me.

And everything continues in this pattern as the years pass and I grow older and older the world grow more

to a paradise.


I’m old now, I’ve lived my life and have turned in to a withered old grey husk of what I once was.

No longer can I tend my garden, the world has become less vibrant as well.

I’m nearing my end now as I lie in my bed looking at the faded photo of my parents I’ll be with you soon I

think as I close my eyes and drift of to sleep.


What’s that?

It’s noise.

I wake up and push myself slowly from the bed and hobble down stairs to where the sound is.

The door’s open that’s odd.

I look outside and see people everywhere wondering around looking at everything making noise.

Strange creatures shoot through the air birds yes I remember.

Little fury creatures with four legs roam around along with bigger things that look a little different cat’s and

dog’s.

“everything look’s so alive”

“it’s like the world started anew”

“What do you think happened?”

All the people are asking each other.

“What the why are my solar panels on your roof?”

I turn to the sound and see a red faced young man talking to my parents.

I try to call them but I only make a noise but they turn around anyway

“Mom!” my mom says surprised “but your dead!?”

I manage to take a step forward and croak out “mother” before falling to the ground.

My vision starting to cloud now but I see a large crowd of people around me “is she alright?” one asks.

I see my father looking down at me then his eyes start to fill with tears and he says “Eva it’s Eva”

The crowd are all shocked I can hear it in their voices but I can no longer make out the words.

My mom is sitting next to me I can feel her tears falling on me I try to reach up to hug her at last but

everything fades to black.

I don’t think I'll wake up this time.

I actually won $1,000 for my writing but I don't think too many people entered that competition...
Here is a poem I published on my deviantART, I also write fanfiction for the Super Mario (mainly Koopalings) and Hetalia fandoms.

And so it is this evening that I should be so fortunate
As to be struck by blessed inspiration.
This vital force is not a frequent event,
For some it may come on a regular schedule, for others it may come completely randomly,
As unforeseen as a lightning bolt out of the blue sky,
For some it may come once in a lifetime,
For some it may never come at all.
And, because it is not possible to foresee when and if you will receive the strike next,
Or, when received again, if it should be at a fortuitous moment,
It should be considered obligatory to, when it does come and if the timing happens to be opportune, as is the case for me this evening,
Kindle the heat that rages forth from the spirit, soul, mind, heart, whatever entity it is that the fruit is borne from.
Nevertheless, I have held by the unproven and yet not yet shaken belief that, by consciously, and thus also unconsciously and perhaps even subconsciously
Keeping said entity open to the thought, feeling, et cetera, of receiving inspirational ignition
I will welcome it in with certainty, at one moment or another.
Alas, the spirit burns strong and vibrant, but the body, the flesh held as seat for the mind is weary for want of sleep
And yet I cannot. The breath of inspiration burns with a white-hot vibrance, blazing my mind alive, awake, burning away all hope of rest.
Not tonight. I suffer through the flashing of words and the semiconscious effort of verbal cognition
Pondering, first of all, the choice of language that shall most effectively present my thoughts and feelings
Initially, as most who are trained in the matter do, electing the choice of words that I imagine would resonate across centuries,
Without regard for modern vernacular, the standard use of language that would be understood as well by readers of two centuries ago as two centuries from now.
And then I wonder if such writers from two centuries ago thought the same;
Having written in a dialect that is largely incomprehensible to most readers of modern days
It can be said that they failed at this effort. Or perhaps it was the case that they wrote with the flavor of the period,
Without regard as to how it would be perceived in subsequent eras.
How we treasure to have a whiff of this, this nostalgia that was never ours!
But we make it ours anyway. It is common practice of formal schooling to bottle this essence,
Running against the natural linguistic evolutionary grain,
Because this essence is so much cherished.
But the essence of my work will be what it will. No contriviality shall be executed.
Rhyming verse is another option. But I shall, for the greater if not the entire part, opt out of it
For it translates poorly, and limits much potential for expression.
The challenge is enticing, but nevertheless I feel no place for it here. Be what will.
Let the words write themselves...

I was born not within a great distance from the sea.
My mother, she seemed to love the sea,
And my earlier years were spent in one seaside community after another.
My eyes roll under the fog, and turn eastward toward the sparkling sea villages,
Rather than westward toward the sparkling sea itself.
The sea never held particular magic for me.
Perhaps there is a certain vital element absent from my soul,
But to me, the sea, the ocean, call it what you will, is and always has been just a trite pool of water.
It serves me nothing, except to remind me
Of everything past for which the blaze in me has died.
The scent of yesterday is more potent than the taste of today.
And even that scent is fading. But I still cannot savor today,
Nor will I ever have the slightest whiff of tomorrow.
Time has taught me long ago that any inkling one may have of tomorrow
Is a hallucination. Tomorrow is a mystery that nobody can imagine, let alone predict.
So, how can anybody possibly prepare?
Without a taste to whet one's appetite for tomorrow, why would anybody even attempt to prepare?
Alas, instead one would but bask in the fading glow of nostalgia
Turn to chills whilst chasing in vain the last rays winking just above the horizon
And freeze to the core through the night, going numb.
The dawn of today rises, warm, does one defrost?
Does sensation return?
What kind of sensation would it be?
Nothing but dull ache remains.
Even fire would not burn one fierce enough
To feel more than that.
Is this the way of passage for every one,
Or only of the one that is me?
The past ferments in my mind, and I recall the time
That every small delight was an explosion of bliss,
At least from what I gather from distant memory's faint aftertaste.
These delights may remain present
But all joy in them has long since finished the process of being slowly but surely pruned away.
Evolution, that cruel engineer, has clearly designed one to be so
Excepting that one explosive joy that remains
For the purpose of forcing curious children with magical brains
To assume their fates as replicating mold spores
For, if all other joys were not exterminated,
Who would choose to carry on with such a mundane yet necessary evil?
And yet some still remember, if vaguely
And resist.
I should be considered fortunate that I am among the rare immune to the singular adult joy
But I am too vaccinated against the joys of the past.
So, it may be the case that I am simply immune to joy period.
Frigid, in more ways than one.
I ask myself, do I want to find some way to have that one kind of joy?
Myself answers back, no. That joy exists for one purpose and one purpose only
And that is not a purpose that I want to live for.
But then, what purpose do I want to live for?

I abruptly realize, there is in fact ONE aspect of the future that is no mystery.
A strange man once told me
That the most powerful symbol that humanity has ever devised
Is the skull.
It was inside a skull that this realization happened,
That a skull is only seen after a person is rotted and cleaned of all flesh,
Not to mention DEAD.
DEATH.
There is surely not a functional human being in all of existence, past present and future
That has not been haunted by this concept at one moment or another.
I look in the mirror, and see not a fit and healthy 23 and a half year old woman child
But a crone, a corpse-to-be.
The soft lovely animal that I keep for company and familiarship
When I see him I smile, and I also frown
For having his presence is watching death unfold before my very eyes.
I have seen him grow up, and in coming years I will see him grow old,
And one day, sooner or later, due to his having shorter years than mine by possibly nearly a century
I will bear witness to an event that will be an all too harrowing reminder
Of my own mortality.
Again, I see none of the rich rewards tomorrow might hold, provided my anhedronia dissipates enough to enjoy them,
But death I do see.
Only when... how... all still mysteries, written in stone,
But in a language that one cannot read.
Could I possibly gain the skills to decipher it?
When my affect is bright, I will state that I direly hope for that.
That, and what's more, the most worthwhile secret one could ever unlock, for it would enable one the time to unlock infinitely more secrets...
The secret of... immortality?
Make death a 'maybe' rather than a 'for certain'?
Or... dare one hope... a 'never'?
A happy hope, a happy dream... my heart staggers.
Oh? Well, damned shall I be. I do have a heart after all.
Dissociate from it before it aches again...
Like it did in the past.
Feelings, be fleet within the Brownian motion of my thoughts
One too impatient to await tomorrow's one non-mystery to arrive on its own time
Will swiftly become caught up in one thing or another and long forget to make the impulse to hasten its arrival.
My thoughts are just that. No force. No pumping action toward any one general direction.
They go with the disorderly flow.
Touch and with a ripple everything is changed.
And so I fail to recall where I envisioned they were flowing
My skull's innards being a hot entropic mess.
Worsening... bored. Cogitating so fast I am slow.
So many memories... I am taken back to that... that past place...
The place that haunts me like Death's other bookend.
Empty time, empty scentless time...
The years are short, but the days are long...

I am told to forget it.
To forget it is impossible. The best one can do is repress it.
But to actively repress it is to acknowledge its existence
Which therefore defeats the purpose of repression.
My thoughts sunken into the hole of past times. They need to be pumped out.
They need to focus on the present.
Not yesterday, not tomorrow.
Today.
A slim margin, to teeter on the tightrope between past and future.
However, I recently recall a day when I had managed just that.
I toured away from the sea, and tasted the mountains.
On high ground, one feels exalted.
The sight below, to be smiled down upon.
There is no avarice in my heart when I state
That it is all mine, whether I own it or not.
The sun is mine. The air is mine. This view is mine.
I may be apprehended for setting foot on it
But nobody can begrudge me the lovely sight of it
Which is all I want of it.
I need not hold the key to the pantry to taste the wine.
Only purpose to hold that key
Would be for one who wishes to glut oneself and thus spoil oneself of it
And move on to spoil oneself of another pleasure
All the while denying others of one sip
That would taste better than the entire bottle.
Fresh thoughts roll in as I roll into fresh territory
Rolling mountains, so bold, definite friction for one's fingers upon a globe!
There is no sense of splendor, however, in that image. Imagine instead
One as a tiny particle in the presence - the NEAR presence! - of something large
Larger than one encounters in everyday life.
How high and how close they look! It must be that
I have been transported to another world
Within this one.
The lake in the indentation between rounded mountains
Green, as the mountains themselves
Reflected in it.
The hills nearer me
Assembled from aggregates of boulders
Cracked, textured and warm-colored
Like something out a warm photograph.
They seem to take sunlight itself
And magnify all aspects of its warmth and beauty at ground level.
I am lulled into a pleasant, almost dreamlike state
And the lightning shock in my nerves is put to peace.
The mountains, so boldly high upon the earth
Are kneaded out along with my minute in this great valley of wonders
The longest and gladdest minute I have had in a good while.
Back into territory of humans
By their hand, not tainted, but rather polished.
Grass green over even earth,
Orange and yellow flowers of a vibrance to put a painter's pallet to shame,
Ponds of liquid crystal with fountains like fluid glass flowing ephemerally through the air
An environment fit to be the home of swans.
A cold thought it is, that they have not sculpted this art for my benefit
And they would surely not smile to see me enjoy it,
Except perhaps out of smirking pride.
But I sample of it nevertheless, and to do so it takes nothing of theirs.
As I gaze with golden bleariness out into glowing woods
I am somehow reminded of another recent happening
That has... has it? Begun to rekindle the blaze my soul.
Another convolution of vague cogitations and,
WIth a sweetly wistful heart
I wonder if, maybe it is true that, everything that brings the smallest sense of hope into my heart
The sweetest sugar rush of joy
Does so because, deep down, on some level
I know that there is no possible way it can possibly be true.
Perhaps this is why, after all, I indulge so much in fantasy,
In any substitute existence, in the head, where I can have a life as something that is not quite myself,
For myself has not quite a real life in this real world.
Alas, in no state to bemoan the possibility that all that all rapture is a falsehood
I muse vibes of sugar roses and softly desire to find this to be proven wrong.

My skull is a cauldron, a stew of memories
A stew that does not rot with age, but rather, it ferments
In that its essences become stronger, and every now and then
I perceive a hint of something that I had not detected before.
I catch and hold onto those that effervesce to the surface of consciousness
Lost and bleak in pondering.
I recall a recount of a young man and a teacher
There was a disagreement between them, a seemingly frivolous one
The young man, frustrated, threw his book and left
Never to return.
The class, upon hearing this tale, giggled and smirked
Not a soul among them would soon wonder if the young man was, if wrong,
Also in a way, perhaps very much right.
Not even, for the time being, would I…
My mind was adrift in the fantasy world of grand castles built for the noble class of scholars
And the green relief of the trimmed and watered grass landscape.
A fantasy even more far off than I realized, even then.
Knowledge, like all forms of power, must be bought and sold,
And the noble class of scholars, like all noble classes,
Is one that one must more or less be born into.
Nevertheless, by some form of charity I managed to have a tantalizing hint of this…
This power….
Not enough to want more, but enough to know that this power
Is not knowledge at all.
This power, is rather the favor one obtains for paying for the knowledge one supposedly obtains
And yet, emerges from the halls none the wiser,
Possibly less, for having made a sheepish-willed compromise.
All of them, in pursuit of purchasing the indulgence of favor
Even at the cost of abandoning the pursuit of knowledge itself!
To buy a piece of paper, as proof of its attainment
For one that cannot prove said attainment in a non-prescribed manner.
If not for knowledge, then what do these so-called noble scholars,
Having narrowed their channels of intellect, the gaggling, insufferable fools,
What, exactly what do they do it for?
Meanwhile, a man, of a much separate caste, works at a factory.
He operates the production of feed for animals,
Knowing full well what goes into the feed,
A thought that would horrify many others if they knew.
Knowing that, in order to work like this, he must not entertain a single thought about it.
Nor do the fools that buy licenses to profit from their knowledge entertain such thoughts.
Perhaps they were specifically trained not to for that reason.
I asked myself, do they ever think about how illogical and immoral it is what they are doing?
Myself answers back, that’s exactly the point.
They do not think. Period.
And yet I remain that wandering lonely soul that cannot stop
Thinking…
Cogitating and metacogitating…
About nothing. And everything. At the same time.
And if the thinking shall erupt into feeling, that feeling shall erupt into crying…
Over nothing…
And everything… at the same time.

My soft faint figure has slipped quietly into the shadows of solace
Of shelter from actual world, and I am blessed to have it.
Free to drift… to taste all that I had been denied
Pity that it is too late… far, far too late…
Join the world… under their terms.
Terms so illogically determined for each person
As for the terms on me… I have been burned by them.
Clearly, my existence is not wanted.
And so I shall do the world a favor
And just not… exist.
What exists in their minds is, after all,
As much a product of imagination as what exists in mine,
Only far freer of ridicule.
And I shall exist peacefully out of their minds
To… sob… forever in sheltering solitude.
Wherefore, I do not know. What for, I do not remember…
If I have not a soul,
Why does it so ache?
It will be sobbed, that which is not said.
And it will be sobbed in silence, that which cannot be sobbed out loud.
How can one have a million words in the head,
And not one single world to say?
To say is to be heard, and to be heard is to say it loud, and often
And all have grown sick of it.
My conditioned meekness will assure that I spare them.
From now onward.
I freeze, number and number
I can still cry, but it is hollow.
Soon I may no longer be able to cry at all.
If cut, would I bleed?
More likely, I would disappear.
The more I fade into silence, the more I fade out of existence.
I have vanished from here, and there,
And maybe someday, by no doing of my own for I am no doer,
I will vanish completely.
No great loss, for it is no story worth hearing, no body worth seeing…
Or perhaps, I am wrong.
It is the way of the world, after all.
Every now and then, something… something happens.
Something so extraordinary, so impossible
Something that should not exist, something that CANNOT exist.
But yet, it does.
Such impossible events, objects, persons must then behave like a virtual particle,
They vanish out of existence as fast as they came into it.
As mentioned before, it is the way of the world.
The world swallows up the miracles,
The everything that could possibly change its ways.
An occurrence as remarkably strange as I, then, must surely disappear
In one way or another.
Said disappearance need not be to hasten me to my last breath,
As, for how little mark I’ve left, growth I’ve made,
I have just as good as never been born at all.
All desires buried. Shall I unearth them?
I do, at last, see light on the horizon.
In all likely probability a mirage…
But then I am far too sane to see such a thing.
If there were light, would I see it?
Would I feel its warmth?
Will I have the opportunity to rise out of this long-frozen hole of ashes
And never be burned again?
My body shivers in electric terror like it never has before.
All of this goes to show that tomorrow does come and change does happen
Even if one cannot see it.
But one WILL see it… all of it… eventually.
One must have that conviction.
But even without it… one will feel it, it will hit them,
Knock one off of one’s preplanned itinerary.
A turn for better, or a turn for worse….
This art-script now shall take a turn for verse.

A moment I shall take to, in my head
Induce a vomitory mental state
More words upon the paper shall I shed
And thought-waves under pressure shall abate
Soon, for I may never later find
Them in the murky abyss of my mind.
One word shall not suffice to say it all
One thought is not enough for one to say
One thing to say, I have not that at all
One million, maybe more, have I to scrawl.
A hole I never knew was there is touched
A whole I never knew before, perhaps
Is me, but when the touch is gone, the ache
A hole, now known, is felt to cavitate.
Has my heart begun now to defrost?
I’m found, I think, but am I still yet lost?
To live again, I fear, it means to once more feel the fear
Of frozen solitude, or to, in passion, crash and burn
Truths seem scarce, but falsehoods, they abound
Truth’s own existence, I fear is a lie
For poisoned sugar, I have lost my taste
Thoughts and feelings I trust not in haste
Holy waters, I dare not tread
Holey person, I stay instead.
Guarded, heart and mind I’ve made me
To ensure
That only truth shall find me.
Has that happened now?
But how? Somehow… somehow
Truth will sweep me from the shade
I shall succumb, that very hour
Than truth, there is no greater power
Roused, open eyes and yawn
Truth shall sweep me into the dawn.

To end this letting of the blood I close
In manner cryptic, knowing some may take it morbidly:
A cut, but one, to bloodlet, one but needs
Till bloodless, but continue yet to bleed.

If anyone is interested in reading my novel, hit me up at [email protected]

I've finally developed my two main characters. If you are interested in reading my about my characters send me a message on WrongPlanet.

And my novel is finally going to publication... should be available before christmas or soon after

Fluttercord one shot I did earlier this year...

Sweet Temptation

The young pegasus found herself dashing through the Everfree Forest in hot pursuit, the wind catching onto her silky pink mane ever so gracefully. Fluttershy knew that her friend was definitely up to no good, and feared what kind of tangled web lied for the path ahead. However, this situation was normal. Even after she had truly reformed him, the chaotic draconequus still continued to be quite the handful. Fluttershy herself wondered what kind of mess he'd have her clean up this time…

Immediately arriving at the flowery meadow, the element of kindness gasped to discover that the meadow itself was no longer flowery, nor grassy for that matter. Instead, the green areas surrounding her were nothing more than sweet candy grass, and the petals and leaves on all the plant life around her had now become edible. The treetops had sprouted sweet caramel apples, while the rough edged bushes had grown bunches of colorful jellybeans! The babbling river Fluttershy once knew of had transformed into a cascade of caffeinated soda! And finally, scattered all over the sky were sugary clouds of pink cotton candy, some of them showering chocolate milk, while others just quietly passed through. The awestruck pegasus was at a complete loss of words, that is until her friend had spotted her…

"Fluttershy! There you are!" called out an enthusiastic Discord, quickly zipping right in front of the shy mare. "I'm so happy you're here! Now I actually have somepony that can marvel on my newest creation!" He then extended out his right arm, emphasizing his efforts. "Pretty neat, huh? I'd say it's my best work yet!"

The young pony looked on to the candy-filled wonderland in absolute silence, even tilting her head just a little bit trying the grasp the overall picture. Soon after her little observations, Fluttershy became rather nervous on how Discord would react to her overall opinion, and these conflicting feelings actually began to show through. She really didn't want to have to chastise her chaotic friend for just expressing himself freely, but the reliable pegasus knew that she had a promise to keep to the princess! Being honest with those you truly care about wasn't always a walk in the park, especially in a situation like this one…

The delighted chimera continued to smile with glee, even circling and dancing around in the air just a little bit! However, the creature had stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing his beautiful marefriend frown. Her dazzling teal-green eyes also appeared to be casting strong feelings of distress, and once Fluttershy had caught sight of Discord's discreet glances, she quickly hid her face from view in her soft rose mane, her whimpers faint. Now, this had left the poor draconequus even more confused… He couldn't help but feel hurt by it, his heart now being slightly tugged at. Had he really become that sensitive? A big softy? Not that Discord found any of this all that bad… But, just rather shocking! How was it that this shy little pegasus, the one that tamed him, had caused him to feel so, sentimental? The more the spirit of disharmony thought about it, the more confused he got! Breaking through the heartaches, he finally exasperated, "Fluttershy! What's wrong?! Quit shutting me out like this! Now, do you like what I've created, or not?!" Now just realizing what had been said, Discord quickly cupped his mouth shut. He hadn't meant to yell, especially considering his newfound friend was so sensitive to such things as anger. The chimera hoped that he hadn't created anymore damage than already been done.

Fluttershy squeaked, now growing terrified of the lord of chaos! It was more than clear to her now that her friend was very, very upset with her. And just sulking around silently wasn't going to cut it! He demanded an answer, and the pegasus was going to give him that answer. She had to be strong! "Well, I… I…." Continuing to stutter, the youthful mare's eyes then locked with that of Discord's. It was nothing like one her famous stares, but actually something much more powerful… Fluttershy felt completely mesmerized by them, his mismatched, luminous eyes. The feeling, was strange… It was as if her mind had been completely cleansed of all the burdens that had been holding her down… This feeling, she didn't want it to go away. "Why, y-yes. I love it…" soothed the pegasus, having now flown just inches in front of her savior. "It's all so wonderful… Just like you…" The mare then blushed, pecking his cheek with kisses.

"Well, my dear…" Discord swooned, placing his furry lion paw on her cheek. "I made this all for you, so I couldn't be anymore happier for you liking it, my sweet Fluttershy! In fact, I feel the same way about you… You simply are ravishing for these eyes to look at. Has anypony ever called you beautiful before?"

"Well, n-n-no." she squeaked. "Not really…" Fluttershy's face was now a beet red, as the spirit of disharmony just let out all small chuckle, knowing that victory was soon to be his.

"Well, they should." he swiftly remarked, beginning to play around with her lovely pink mane. "Who needs Princess Stick-in-the-mud and the lame five when you could have somepony as brilliant as me?" Discord leaned in even closer to the pegasus, the smell of his warm breath now just inches away. "Don't you understand? Your friends and the princess don't appreciate the fine chaos that I pour my heart into creating… They'd all much rather live a boring life, where everything in the world makes sense… But, my dear… What fun is there in making sense?!"

Fluttershy looked at him, understanding what he truly meant. Princess Celestia and her friends just really didn't care for her friend's desires at all, and had restricted the draconequus from doing anything of his nature. Just as she was about to agree, the element of kindness broke free from his trance! Just as the mare was about to recollect all that Discord had taken away, he snarled and put a claw to her chin, forcing her to look back up at him! He then placed his lion paw on her left shoulder. The chimera wasn't about to lose her. Not when he was THIS close to succeeding!

"Don't you understand, Fluttershy?" he continued on, while admiring his friend's sheer beauty. "Both you and I share a love for chaos! Harmony and order just don't suit our lifestyles, my dear! You yourself just told me how much you adored my gift to you awhile ago, so just think of it as my little 'proposal' to you! We are practically made for one another now! So if I'm going rule in a world with nothing but disarray, I want you in it! As my queen… Think about how happy we'll be! I can give you something far better than those friends of yours ever will, Fluttershy!" The chaotic spirit then moved himself closer inward towards the pegasus' delicate little ear, and whispered, "A life of fulfillment…"

Before the hysteric Fluttershy could sputter as much as a yes or no, Discord pulled her in towards him and pressed his lips against hers, stealing a kiss from her! The gentle pony did whatever she could to break free: kicking, whining, flapping her wings ferociously, but no matter what she did, her insane friend just wouldn't seem to back off! Letting out one last final whimper, the conceded mare shut her eyes in defeat, allowing him to kiss her, as she returned one back to him. As they did this, Fluttershy's coloring went from very vibrant and lively, to dull and gray… It was all so very clear to her now… Discord had fooled her into becoming her discorded self again, and now there was no way going back… She had put far too much trust into him, only allowing him to betray their friendship and use it for his own selfish desires.

Finally pulling himself away from her, the draconequus gazed at his new queen-to-be lovingly, stroking the pegasus' mane once more. Smiling mischievously, he then asked his lover in a singsong voice, "So, Fluttershy. How's about you and I do something fun while we're here?"

The mare then batted her eyes at him, placing her front hooves right into his grasp. "I'd like that very much…" The couple smiled, as the two of them flew off into the sunset!
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Later that night, Discord and Fluttershy had taken shelter on a chocolate rain cloud, both already fast asleep. Each of them was exhausted from all the fun they had together that day. The first thing they'd done was a bit of flying, having races with one another and spinning loops in the pink skies! Right after that, they had both cooled off in the streams of soda, refreshing themselves from all the zipping around they'd done! The pair had even pulled a couple of pranks on a few unsuspecting ponies! Yes. It had indeed been a very busy day for the both of them…

Yawning, the spirit of disharmony had awoken from his slumber, rubbing his yellow eyes with his paw. He'd just had a dream of him and Fluttershy, on how things originally were before she had become discorded by him. Discord had forgotten about how much fun he had with the pegasus while she was still kind… On sunny afternoons, he'd help feed all of her animal friends while they'd talk, and then in cold winters, they'd tell each other Christmas stories in front of the fireplace until they'd fall asleep. The fun times he had with her today couldn't even compare to that kind of fun!

And then his eyes landed on Fluttershy, the chimera's supposed ex-best friend. The chaotic spirit quietly observed the lovely pegasus sleep, each one of her breaths so small and delicate. Discord then took his lion paw and patted the top of her head, combing his fingers through her silky pink mane. He brushed some of it out of the way, allowing him to see the mare's sweet face. Fluttershy's eyes were closed shut, hiding away her angelic teal-green eyes. A subtle smile was also there, being accompanied by her fragile little nose. Her innocent little face. Her innocence…

What had the draconequus done? His hunger for chaos had only driven him to the brink of insanity, possibly hurting his dear friend, and losing the only friendship he'd ever had… How could Fluttershy ever trust him again? Discord could already feel all of the guilt building up inside of him! She had been the only living creature to show him an ounce of kindness, and had truly believed in him when nopony else did. It was because of these two things that finally got Discord to come to his senses…

The spirit slowly got up, and quietly moved himself in front of the snoozing pony. Carefully, he learned forward toward the pegasus' ear, and whispered to her, "I'm so sorry…" Tears rolling down his cheeks, the chimera then gently kissed her on the lips, lifting the discordance spell from Fluttershy. Rising back to his feet, Discord flew off into the starry night sky, leaving his best friend alone to dream.

Well, I've written fifteen or so novels in the last two years (obsessive much?) and you can see any of them here:

LH Thomson on Amazon

Boredom + My Aspie skills setting in = this story. It's me in the World Series.
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Last of the 9th. Dodger Stadium, game 5 of the World Series. Blue Jays are up by 2, 5-3 over the Dodgers. There are two men on and two down for the Dodgers. A home run for L.A. could end the series. I stand in. Without hesitation, the crowd of 56,000 cheer loudly. They've waited close to a quarter century to see their L.A. Dodgers win it all. Karkat Vantas (ED NOTE: He's from the webcomic Homestuck) stands on the mound for Toronto. Soul Evans (ED NOTE: From an anime named Soul Eater) is on first, Marceline Abadeer (ED NOTE: From Adventure Time) is on third. Again, an HR from the Dodgers would end the series, but if the Jays get the third out, the series goes back to Toronto. Karkat stands in. His first pitch, an 82 MPH slider, goes inside for a strike. No sweat, I think to myself. I assume my stance again, and I await his next pitch. It's a change-up that is 83 MPH, and I get some contact, but it lands on the first base side for a foul. Now I'm in an even deeper hole. The count is 0-2, and what can I do? I need to find a way to stay alive. Karkat then throws another pitch, this one 79 MPH, and it reaches my face level for a ball. A little breathing room, but I'm still in a bit of a danger situation. Karkat stands at the ready. He gets his sign. He throws the next pitch......... a little outside, for ball 2! It's 2-2 now. If I can get him up to 3-2, then it's only a matter of rolling the dice to see what happens. Karkat is still unfazed. Although he's put two men on, there is still a chance he could end it and go back to the Great White North. His next pitch comes........ I see it, and make contact......... it could be heading out! I gaze at the ball, look at its trajectory, but just when it seems like I have hit a home run, it makes a turn foul towards the left field side. I'm still alive. Don't surrender, don't surrender! Karkat just brushes off what happened. He throws his next pitch..... but I hit it just foul to the first base side now. Six pitches now. When will it end?, I think to myself. And now he throws the seventh pitch....... it reaches my feet level, for ball 3! It's 3-2 now. Anything can happen....... but you gotta spill your guts to make a splash now! Karkat throws it.......... a 91 MPH fastball....... I hit it! HIGH FLY BALL TOWARDS LEFT FIELD............ IT......... IS.............. GONE! THE DODGERS HAVE WON THE WORLD SERIES, 6-5......... JOHNNY GARFIELD DID IT! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?! HE WILL BE LOVED IN HOLLYWOOD NOW!
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BTW, if you liked this story, I'm always looking for ideas for more stories I could write. What characters should be involved? Do you want to be part of it? What sport/teams do you want mentioned? What should the situation be? PM me for your ideas. I look forward to hearing them. Cheers.

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LIONS-STAMPEDERS-ELKS-ROUGHRIDERS-BLUE BOMBERS-TIGER-CATS-ARGONAUTS-REDBLACKS-ALOUETTES

The Canadian Football League - What We're Made Of

Feel free to talk to me, if you wish.

Every day is a gift- cherish it!

"A true, true friend helps a friend in need."