The human life span is incredibly short. humans seem to find this extremely stressful, and thus try to fill each and everyday with the most they possibly can. Some humans, enjoy doing "death-defying" acts. Which baffles me. Why if you are so afraid of dying would you want to tempt it? Ahem. Master William is seeking to expand the lifespan of the average human, for the benefit of those few humans he cares for. Also, because of the current dangerous goings-on, He will provide permanent shelter and protection. Of course, to apply you must be human, your age matters not. Master William will not accept abundances of families seeking his alliance. If you wish to be taken in, you must work for it and earn your keep. He will accept as many as he needs for the experimentation, and very few for extra services. Those that are interested are to seek me out, and after inquiry will bring you to Master William for appraisal.
Good Luck.
Sincerely,
Lolan
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
The Depth of Emotion
We are fire. We are ice. The wind the rain, lava and snow and everything in between. Our lives have been behind the looking glass for so many dead hours. Its simple. Its simply hard to carve through that reflective mirror that has trampled through our paths. Our grass is dead. Our homes are burned. Our incoherent thoughts are bleeding into our retinas yet each second we try to hide, more and more of this fear, this....emotion, blurs our vision. We've found ourselves wilted. Flowers, empty of their petals and missing a few leaves. Are we broken? No. Our stems are tall, straight and a vibrant green. But our decorations have fallen to the floor.
We see death daily. In the stale air, on the road, in the browning of our yards and in the lone feathers falling from the sky. Each time it becomes more real to us. More, tangible. Like you can touch it without fear of it's lanky appendages bruising your skin. Or coating your muscles with disease. We survive knowing that it's there. Knowing that some day, that man that harmed your child will be gone.That the nurse overdosing her patients will fade....and that the two pint bully at school won't last past 95. When it happens, we cry. We scream, we run and pretend that it was never there. That it was never coming. That death, when it shows it self, has not been slinking around this whole time. We will never know how to deal with it. We will never know the right words to say, or who we should be comforting. We will feel exposed. We'll feel betrayed and lost. The only bright side is that we know for a fact, where they went; and when we are finally calm enough to think straight, we go back to thinking of death as an intangible source.
Our hearts can only take so much. They aren't machines. No one can unscrew our rib cages and replace the batteries. Taking us apart and reassembling us won't do the trick. How do you handle a fragile package? You don't. You leave it alone until it's unwrapped, then put it somewhere safe so it won't become damaged; and when you're ready to take it out again, you dust it off and handle it with care.We are not glass. We are ceramic. We can be glued back together. Finding the pieces may be hard, but it is worth it when we return to normal.
I'm not asking you to forget. Nor do I want your trembling heart to cease it's beat. I want you to become the shallow water leading to the ocean. Let the boat slide smoothly from the shore, then gently rock it out to sea; and when it passes through the storm...allow it to return in one piece. To say nothing of the scratches in its armor.
Poisyn
We see death daily. In the stale air, on the road, in the browning of our yards and in the lone feathers falling from the sky. Each time it becomes more real to us. More, tangible. Like you can touch it without fear of it's lanky appendages bruising your skin. Or coating your muscles with disease. We survive knowing that it's there. Knowing that some day, that man that harmed your child will be gone.That the nurse overdosing her patients will fade....and that the two pint bully at school won't last past 95. When it happens, we cry. We scream, we run and pretend that it was never there. That it was never coming. That death, when it shows it self, has not been slinking around this whole time. We will never know how to deal with it. We will never know the right words to say, or who we should be comforting. We will feel exposed. We'll feel betrayed and lost. The only bright side is that we know for a fact, where they went; and when we are finally calm enough to think straight, we go back to thinking of death as an intangible source.
Our hearts can only take so much. They aren't machines. No one can unscrew our rib cages and replace the batteries. Taking us apart and reassembling us won't do the trick. How do you handle a fragile package? You don't. You leave it alone until it's unwrapped, then put it somewhere safe so it won't become damaged; and when you're ready to take it out again, you dust it off and handle it with care.We are not glass. We are ceramic. We can be glued back together. Finding the pieces may be hard, but it is worth it when we return to normal.
I'm not asking you to forget. Nor do I want your trembling heart to cease it's beat. I want you to become the shallow water leading to the ocean. Let the boat slide smoothly from the shore, then gently rock it out to sea; and when it passes through the storm...allow it to return in one piece. To say nothing of the scratches in its armor.
Poisyn
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
To,
To My Girls,
You are beautiful.
To My Sons,
You are strong.
To My Friends,
I'm Sorry. I thank you.
To My Family,
It's not your fault.
To My Hosts,
Be Brave, be strong. Because you can do anything.
To The New Parents,
Be Patient.
To The Children,
Learn whole-heartedly. You only have this once.
To The Soldiers,
Remember mercy.
Kai.
You are beautiful.
To My Sons,
You are strong.
To My Friends,
I'm Sorry. I thank you.
To My Family,
It's not your fault.
To My Hosts,
Be Brave, be strong. Because you can do anything.
To The New Parents,
Be Patient.
To The Children,
Learn whole-heartedly. You only have this once.
To The Soldiers,
Remember mercy.
Kai.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Siren Song
We were so young...when we first met. It was as though the universe aligned and everything was so right. I can see that day, way back then. I was standing alone on the balcony, staring into the coming dawn, when my Romeo came through the trees and onto out pathway. Slowly, sauntered up the steps and asked me with his charming accent if my daddy was home. He was dressed so well. Dressed so formally in a full tux, shiny leather loafers and a crisp hat. The earrings in his ears were pure diamond, like the cuff links at his wrists. He was gorgeous, and he stole my young heart right out of my chest. I was dressed in a long white casual gown, and considering the warm weather I hadn't bothered with a jacket. My hair was loose and at the time, had been rather long. I couldn't talk, couldn't move. Luckily my little brother, Phury, came from the foyer and called for me. My future hellren offered me his arm and walked with us into the house.
We were mated two years later. Three years after, our daughter, Sohra, was born. Two after that, our son, Thrhill was born. We were a happy family, the young were content to play in daddy's vast gardens and we were safe. One day, my hellren was called away on business and I didn't hear from him for days. Days that quickly turned into weeks and months. Soon a year had passed with no word. I had given up hope of seeing my beloved again. The days were bleeding into summer and our son was growing curious about his father's whereabouts. Our daughter was content with his missings, a detachment that I to this day, cannot understand. We received a letter, on the 17th of April. Oddly, it was addressed to Thrhill. Being far to young to receive letters, I read it, as was my right. The letter was horrid. It detailed things far to complex for a child. Far to cruel and grotesque, even now I shudder at its contents. I hid it away, I did not tell my young what the letter contained. I told them we had terrible news.
Their father had died in combat. He had passed honorably, and surrounded by his brothers-in-arms. I arranged his funeral and we mourned. Oh, if only I could put into words the grief I felt, the sorrow that haunted me for placing that look on the faces of my young... It pained me so, and even now it keeps me awake. Decades later, when my darling son had gone off to aid in the wars and my beautiful daughter was mated and having her own young. My hellren returned to me.
As I knew he would. However, as I also expected, he returned to me a different male. All of the male I had known was gone from this being that stood before me. Hands and face covered and dripping in the blood of another female, his once caring and gentle eyes turned bloodthirsty and feral by the bloodlust. I led him astray from the house, unwilling to allow this to take place in my fathers home, where my family may walk in upon it when they awoke for the evening. I ran, barefoot into the garden. Through the flowers and grasses I had watched my young play in so long ago. Across a field I had lain in as a girl, and farther still to the river and the waterfall on the very edge of our land. He followed, of course. Chased me down, snatching and ripping at my clothes along the way. Ripping at my hair and my skin, wanting to make me fall. As I stood on the lip of the waterfall, bathing in its mists, I opened my arms to him. Bared my throat and welcomed him.
Mine hellren, home at last.
The force of his attack drove us both off the edge. And I welcomed the end. It has been so long since that dive. And I've grown wiser in my countless years, as I watched my young grow and prosper. I've learned my choice was a good one. Ill-timed perhaps. But well thought out. I suppose...my point for tell you all this is lost...I'm hoping my son and my daughter will reach out to me. Perhaps even my brothers...
Chosen,
Envy
We were mated two years later. Three years after, our daughter, Sohra, was born. Two after that, our son, Thrhill was born. We were a happy family, the young were content to play in daddy's vast gardens and we were safe. One day, my hellren was called away on business and I didn't hear from him for days. Days that quickly turned into weeks and months. Soon a year had passed with no word. I had given up hope of seeing my beloved again. The days were bleeding into summer and our son was growing curious about his father's whereabouts. Our daughter was content with his missings, a detachment that I to this day, cannot understand. We received a letter, on the 17th of April. Oddly, it was addressed to Thrhill. Being far to young to receive letters, I read it, as was my right. The letter was horrid. It detailed things far to complex for a child. Far to cruel and grotesque, even now I shudder at its contents. I hid it away, I did not tell my young what the letter contained. I told them we had terrible news.
Their father had died in combat. He had passed honorably, and surrounded by his brothers-in-arms. I arranged his funeral and we mourned. Oh, if only I could put into words the grief I felt, the sorrow that haunted me for placing that look on the faces of my young... It pained me so, and even now it keeps me awake. Decades later, when my darling son had gone off to aid in the wars and my beautiful daughter was mated and having her own young. My hellren returned to me.
As I knew he would. However, as I also expected, he returned to me a different male. All of the male I had known was gone from this being that stood before me. Hands and face covered and dripping in the blood of another female, his once caring and gentle eyes turned bloodthirsty and feral by the bloodlust. I led him astray from the house, unwilling to allow this to take place in my fathers home, where my family may walk in upon it when they awoke for the evening. I ran, barefoot into the garden. Through the flowers and grasses I had watched my young play in so long ago. Across a field I had lain in as a girl, and farther still to the river and the waterfall on the very edge of our land. He followed, of course. Chased me down, snatching and ripping at my clothes along the way. Ripping at my hair and my skin, wanting to make me fall. As I stood on the lip of the waterfall, bathing in its mists, I opened my arms to him. Bared my throat and welcomed him.
Mine hellren, home at last.
The force of his attack drove us both off the edge. And I welcomed the end. It has been so long since that dive. And I've grown wiser in my countless years, as I watched my young grow and prosper. I've learned my choice was a good one. Ill-timed perhaps. But well thought out. I suppose...my point for tell you all this is lost...I'm hoping my son and my daughter will reach out to me. Perhaps even my brothers...
Chosen,
Envy
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Quote?
"It was always better with strangers."
"I asked, sadly she said no."
"He was The One. I wasn't."
"Plenty of liquor-we'll make it."
"Bastard turned out to be straight."
"Actually, I took my own virginity."
"My partner in sin found God."
"Happy enough...was her tentative reply."
"She knows what my Kryptonite is."
"Lust walked in. Love walked out."
"In his smile I saw forever."
"Tomorrow, maybe, I'll sell the ring."
"I asked, sadly she said no."
"He was The One. I wasn't."
"Plenty of liquor-we'll make it."
"Bastard turned out to be straight."
"Actually, I took my own virginity."
"My partner in sin found God."
"Happy enough...was her tentative reply."
"She knows what my Kryptonite is."
"Lust walked in. Love walked out."
"In his smile I saw forever."
"Tomorrow, maybe, I'll sell the ring."
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Merry Christmas!
Merry Christmas everyone. I hope this holiday brings happiness to you. As I hope the new year brings blessings as well. I don't think I have anything important to say...hmm. Oh how about this?
Once upon a time, there was a little boy dressed in rags. He lived in a little house with a patched roof on the outskirts of town. The window was broken, and the cold drifted in, making him shiver underneath his hole ridden blankets. Everyday the little boy went outside and did odd jobs around town to buy one loaf of bread for himself. He did this for a long time, and no one ever helped him. They figured he was being supported by someone.
But this little boy was all alone, with no one to care for him. No one to show him love, or kindness. This little boy grew to be a hardened teenager, and he began to steal and create mischief to gain his food. Soon he was rich with his thievery. He was good at it too, never got caught. He was satisfied. On the day he turned 18 he went out, like any other day, to steal his food. When he came across a young lady. Dressed in a fine gown, and petticoats, carrying a heavy purse, her feet in lovely slippers, this young lady smiled at him and continued on her way.
She had acknowledged him!
He instantly fell in love with the girl and followed her into the town. She stopped at many houses, and her purse became lighter and lighter. Finally, she she stopped at a fancy looking building.
'This must be her job, or her house.' the boy thought, 'far too fancy for me.' So he waited outside, peeking through the windows. The young lady entered the building and gave away her purse and her slippers. Removed her coats, and gown, left standing only in her underskirt and thin top. She shivered in the cold as she waited in the room alone. Eventually an old woman came into the room and gave her a plain dress and she slipped into it. Without her corset, or coats or slippers. Not even her purse, she left the house, smiling. The boy continued to follow her, all the while wondering what she did with her things.
As time wore on and she wound farther and farther out of the town he ran up to her.
"What on earth did you do with you clothes?"
She smiled again, showing straight white teeth. "Why, I gave them away of course. I give away all of my clothes once a month, and get a simple gown in return."
He gaped, utterly confused, "But why? What do you get out of it? Who gets your clothes?"
She took his hand and continued to walk. Explaining to him that all of her clothes and money go to people in need. Though she gets nothing in return except for a gown to wear home, she doesn't mind. She enjoys giving away her things to those who need it.
She asked him if he needed anything.
the boy stopped and stared at her as though she had sprouted the wings of an angel. Here was this beautiful young woman, giving away all of her precious things and she was offering to help him? A grubby thief dressed in rags? Absurd!
"Would you like to stay with me for the night? Have a bath and a warm meal? Some clothing?"
Still he gaped, stared, opened his mouth and shut it again. Baffled. Eventually he nodded, and spent the night in her company.
In the weeks that passed, the boy spent everyday with her. Becoming more like a gentleman and giving instead of taking. She alighted his world, was his saving grace. He loved nothing and no one more than Her.
Years went by and they wed, vowing to each other to bring joy to the world.
And they did. They gave and gave and gave. Sharing their bounty with the world until they grew old and passed on the giving to their children. And the world became a brighter place. Because someone reached out and gave their aid to another.
Moral: Tis the season.
^_^ Anyway. That was dumb. But I couldn't end it. Sorry. Well...uhm...Have a nice holiday!
Merry Christmas,
Cara
Once upon a time, there was a little boy dressed in rags. He lived in a little house with a patched roof on the outskirts of town. The window was broken, and the cold drifted in, making him shiver underneath his hole ridden blankets. Everyday the little boy went outside and did odd jobs around town to buy one loaf of bread for himself. He did this for a long time, and no one ever helped him. They figured he was being supported by someone.
But this little boy was all alone, with no one to care for him. No one to show him love, or kindness. This little boy grew to be a hardened teenager, and he began to steal and create mischief to gain his food. Soon he was rich with his thievery. He was good at it too, never got caught. He was satisfied. On the day he turned 18 he went out, like any other day, to steal his food. When he came across a young lady. Dressed in a fine gown, and petticoats, carrying a heavy purse, her feet in lovely slippers, this young lady smiled at him and continued on her way.
She had acknowledged him!
He instantly fell in love with the girl and followed her into the town. She stopped at many houses, and her purse became lighter and lighter. Finally, she she stopped at a fancy looking building.
'This must be her job, or her house.' the boy thought, 'far too fancy for me.' So he waited outside, peeking through the windows. The young lady entered the building and gave away her purse and her slippers. Removed her coats, and gown, left standing only in her underskirt and thin top. She shivered in the cold as she waited in the room alone. Eventually an old woman came into the room and gave her a plain dress and she slipped into it. Without her corset, or coats or slippers. Not even her purse, she left the house, smiling. The boy continued to follow her, all the while wondering what she did with her things.
As time wore on and she wound farther and farther out of the town he ran up to her.
"What on earth did you do with you clothes?"
She smiled again, showing straight white teeth. "Why, I gave them away of course. I give away all of my clothes once a month, and get a simple gown in return."
He gaped, utterly confused, "But why? What do you get out of it? Who gets your clothes?"
She took his hand and continued to walk. Explaining to him that all of her clothes and money go to people in need. Though she gets nothing in return except for a gown to wear home, she doesn't mind. She enjoys giving away her things to those who need it.
She asked him if he needed anything.
the boy stopped and stared at her as though she had sprouted the wings of an angel. Here was this beautiful young woman, giving away all of her precious things and she was offering to help him? A grubby thief dressed in rags? Absurd!
"Would you like to stay with me for the night? Have a bath and a warm meal? Some clothing?"
Still he gaped, stared, opened his mouth and shut it again. Baffled. Eventually he nodded, and spent the night in her company.
In the weeks that passed, the boy spent everyday with her. Becoming more like a gentleman and giving instead of taking. She alighted his world, was his saving grace. He loved nothing and no one more than Her.
Years went by and they wed, vowing to each other to bring joy to the world.
And they did. They gave and gave and gave. Sharing their bounty with the world until they grew old and passed on the giving to their children. And the world became a brighter place. Because someone reached out and gave their aid to another.
Moral: Tis the season.
^_^ Anyway. That was dumb. But I couldn't end it. Sorry. Well...uhm...Have a nice holiday!
Merry Christmas,
Cara
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Redirecting....
Amidst all the promises, amidst all the lies.
These secret callings overcome me.
Like a spider does a fly.
Without a rhyme or reason
To acknowledge what we do
There seems to be an ending to the fallacy called truth
Now were running from the danger
To save our own three lives.
Never resting, only begging
That we'll see another dawn.
As the wind picks up speed,
And our momentum dies.
We look around the battlefield
Look how many stolen lives.
For every crimson river
A thousand diamond tears
With each and every cry of pain
The heavens seem to darken.
Hold me close now,
Deliver the final blow.
I want your face to be the last thing I see
The first thing I remember.
Don't cry for me, though I know you will.
We're safe on the other side.
If I wake from this dream
Hold me close.
Never let me go.
I want to be allowed to scream when
The nightmare is over.
But for now I'll settle trembling
In the darkest part of hell.
Listen there are only two of us here.
But...
Three heartbeats echo...
Hear?
Anon
These secret callings overcome me.
Like a spider does a fly.
Without a rhyme or reason
To acknowledge what we do
There seems to be an ending to the fallacy called truth
Now were running from the danger
To save our own three lives.
Never resting, only begging
That we'll see another dawn.
As the wind picks up speed,
And our momentum dies.
We look around the battlefield
Look how many stolen lives.
For every crimson river
A thousand diamond tears
With each and every cry of pain
The heavens seem to darken.
Hold me close now,
Deliver the final blow.
I want your face to be the last thing I see
The first thing I remember.
Don't cry for me, though I know you will.
We're safe on the other side.
If I wake from this dream
Hold me close.
Never let me go.
I want to be allowed to scream when
The nightmare is over.
But for now I'll settle trembling
In the darkest part of hell.
Listen there are only two of us here.
But...
Three heartbeats echo...
Hear?
Anon
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