Monday, August 27, 2012
She stepped out from the trees, looking back and forth she listened and in her stillness she heard the call of the mermaids in the bay, they were almost a melody to the bass that the fires of the Tiger tribe seemed to drum out in the darkness. She smiled and motioned to the silent shadows behind her. There were maybe 12 all together, they strode out behind her, whispering in a tongue that has either been long forgotten or never invented at all. They were a rag tag bunch, but if the casual eye were to fall upon them they appeared as only a group of shimmering darkness in the moonlight.
She could not fly, her heart was pure, but purity did not always lead to happiness, her medium was far more constant, shadow. Her tribe used it as she did, but they often had far more trouble stepping out than she. It would be more than a few moments before they became clear, she took the time to push back her hood and further take in the night. Her hair was a myriad of colour, it cascaded from her hood as she shook it free. Bright grey eyes peered out into the night at the creatures and auras around her, no dryad, spirit, whish, whim, djin or entity was hidden from her.
The tribe slowly flitted into view... A rag tag bunch of teens seemed to emerge, some on closer inspection would be more aged than the others, but none seemed to have the heaviness of age upon them, no tracks that the real world leaves as it rolls over hopes and dreams.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
I fight for it, and I often win... But you can't fight if your legs have been taken out from underneath you...
I suppose I can't and shouldn't complain, I had my fairy tale, I had my knight.. and he fought for me, he rescued me, he gave me the sun and the world was bright because of it... No sun lasts forever, they all burn out, I just didn't think my light would be gone so soon after I had grown accustomed to it's warmth. A fairy tale doesn't end happily... not always... that's the illusion that we have given ourselves so we can smile at the end. The end isn't the place for a smile, it is the resting place of tear stained pages.It's the sigh as you close the book, and accept that it's the end. Time to put this on the shelf, I can take it down when it's less painful, look at it fondly, knowing that this story ended before I was ready for it to. Knowing that this will never ever be over for me.
I swear, if you looked at what I've given up... cosmically... I live the life of a monk...
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Try and think, about the first time you lay next to that someone, let your fingers roam over them, memorizing them so that you can make it through the moments you have your eyes closed. That honeymoon moment that is just perfection.
My sweetheart kisses me in his sleep, he makes adorable noises and he reaches for me when I roll away... when he wakes up he rubs his eyes in such a sleepee way that makes me want to stay there in the morning light one minute longer. He smiles and whispers to me and letting go of sleep and the world of dream is all the easier.
It is that feeling you could live in, that overwhelming sense of adoration with the thunder in your heart when you realized that you were and may forever be linked to this person. You can live with that and that startles you too. Wonder at the realization for a little bit and then lay your head down. Time to go to sleep...
Friday, April 29, 2011
My name is Lauren, but I collect names the way some do figurines. I am a woman, more or less. I smell of sweat, sour wines, late nights, and leather. I can smile in brief flashes, like sunlight glinting from a knife-edge, and I can let words drip like honey from my lips, or fly like acid. I'll try anything, but I reserve the right to fear it irrationally after that forever. I'm a disaster, and I like it.
Now for a little expansion on the thoughts that vomited forth up there. Over time I was Rhen, Twist, Xorcia, Marvin and Xzyon... though the list goes on, any that are worth remembering have been listed. I've been a hero, a mentor and a best friend. I'm selfish, self-serving and self-righteous. I make a dangerous enemy, and a dedicated friend. I'm also empathetic, patient, and caring. I enjoy making people rethink their initial reaction to me. I run on auto-pilot. I obsess, and often, I've come to believe the stress I create fuels me, both physically and creatively. I'm cracked, the fissures that make me up also hold me together, so I'm fragile.
I think that there are many different kinds of love, many of which are very serious and I think not very fun. I think there are many 'great loves' of our lives, and we should savor the good and bad in all of them. I Like N'sync and Hanson. I HATE Michelle McVay and Kirsten Dunst. I Love Lady Death, Jason Mewes, Sublime and Dali. I've met my hero, I was at his funeral. I've seen some great bands, good plays amazing art work and boring movies, and I stay for the credits. I come early for the previews. I pass on the right and eat nothing that has come out of a microwave. I eat pizza rolls with chopsticks.
I'm defensive and I like to hide. I compare myself with the ostrich, others liken me to a condor and a peacock. I love my cat, given enough catnip Dro can almost play Spiro the Dragon. I had a sugar glider, his name was Howard, we were both depressed, but Howard did not recover from his. I can settle into despairs arms like a comfortable blanket, I like making things in the oven just so I can stand over it in a big shirt. I love sleeping, flannel and electric blankets, intensely. I play favorites, I play games, and I hate that I do both. I cry.
I want to be remembered but I can't wait to be forgotten. I paint, I draw comic books, I write stories. None sell, I don't try. I love learning and school is always in my future, I will never repay my student loans by staying in school until I die. I will die, and I'm not OK with that. I had a mid life crisis at 16, I never recovered. I claim to have stopped dreaming, I claim to be a realist. I lie. I've opened myself to the wrong people. I've been broken, I've also been repaired. I think, at one point I was great, now the glitter has worn off and I've returned to reality. I spend the majority of my day playing pretend. My favorite color is green.
I can not abide physical labor. I hate to sweat and I'm miserable when I'm hot. I'm afraid of everything. I do illegal things. I love boys, I love them when they play music or play sports, I love them when they're obstinate and I love them when they're cruel I love them when they're broken and I LOVE them when they're young. I love girls, I love them when they're delicate and I love them when they're strong, I envy that they create and I love that they feel. I hate boys, I think they know how addicted to them I am and abuse this knowledge greatly. I hate girls, they're catty and snide, some of them are even prettier than me.
I wish I were short, I wish I were tiny. I wish people could look beyond the preconceived notions they're fed all their lives. I wish feminists would stop beating the dead body of chivalry and leave feminism to people who like being effeminate. I wish all cars were as cool as they were in the 50's. I wish I could take my room with me when I moved. I wish I could wear long dresses and go barefoot all the time. I wish I could have a daughter like my mom has. I wish I could stop time.
All of this is true, but, maybe not in this order. This is me, I liked meeting all of you.