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 "Scraping an Orange Skull"

Tradition says I must set out
With my knife and my spoon happily gripped
in these hands-eager hands.
The chilly winds rasp through the dead leaves
And there are wisps of clouds shrouding the half moon.
My grin reflects the cool light from above,
My tradition is about to begin...
Hear me scrape for hours on end,
As if I scraped clean a skull from some
hapless person fallen victim of my obssession.
Feel my skin grow slick then itchy with slime and string.
Indeed, some thing ceased its existence only to satisfy
my impulse.
Soon, the children will see on that night of treats and so few tricks
What ends might come to one who falls beneath
My knife and spoon. 
Laugh as the candle burns in the cavitiy I crafted,
Stare in awe as the cold night breeze laps the flame...

Cry over the shattered peices that become the tradition of some cruel ghouls...
Such fun of one is hurtful to another.

To all my pumpkins-my masterpieces-that died upon the street at the hand of some foul youth.

Zhendi hated the woods despite his elven background. It was in the woods he had been conceived, in the woods he had learned the ways of the elven peoples from none but his own cold, distant father, and in the woods Zhendi's mother lost her life. Oddly enough, his mother was the one person that mattered most: more than the superior senses he inherited, more than the regal elven blood that flowed through his veins. The Blood touched his skin: a flawless complexion. The Blood touched his eyes: sight that saw more, much MORE.  The Blood affected every part of Zhendi. Physically, he looked like an elf...emotionally and mentally were a different story.
 Zhendi should have known better than to travle the unfamiliar paths of the forest. Perhaps it was fate, but it was this one time that his Site had failed him...and he was attacked by a dragon. A very large, angry dragon who wanted his hair...scalp and all, perhaps a few of his appendages and a little chunk of his heart. No one ever told him dragons hunted elves in that wood....
(...continue...)

LOL! This had to be THE most fun quiz I have EVER taken!! Mind all, I am no Christian, but I have read some of The Divine Comedy. http://www.4degreez.com/misc/dante-inferno-test.mv  Go here, take the quiz.

I was sent to the Seventh Circle of Hell!!  Yes, and all I can do is LAUGH!!!

 I went for a walk down to the corner to get a coffee. It was only block from my home, and I often stopped in for a cup or two. It settles my thoughts and nerves--the caffeine and the heat that makes the beverage SO popular. I walked slowly watching the ground through my dangling hair; I watched but did not focus for I was wandering in my mind, milling over the silliest of ideas to the most depressing.
 How many people saw my daily outing to the cafe? How few cared that this aging woman walked alone everywhere she went? At least one noted her daily passing...and saw me.
 This walk seemed to last forever and later it made sense to me why. The only moments left to myself. Some might weep at my fate, some might cringe, or even shrug it off as just another one of those horrible things that happens in our society. All I know is I still long for that last cup of black coffee.

So who really wants to know that I am sitting at my computer, totally nakey, typing in my ET diary? I just dyed my hair, and the water is dripping down my back--how freakin' annoying!!
Oh, how worthless...

I met a fellow of Elftown today. Although, I wish I could have spent more time. :( So many things I would have changed about the day...
*sighs*

Okay, time to throw something together:

Is he smiling? I look on from beneath the fog and narrow my eyes to see, perhaps, a bit more clearly. He passed on, beyond death--he is strogner than I imagined. Stronger than me? Aye, he is smiling.
Again, I am near to this creature: again I can only observe him. The desire has fled leaving a vague wisp of curiousity. If this fog would stay, I could see more of him and...
What is this? No less than the startling sound of my subject's...laughter.     My fog had run its course. I am left with nothing more than his happiness--and I am displeased.

My life is changing, perhaps more so than ever before. For the most part, I have only ever lived in one city, on one street in one house. Yesterday brought a new apartment; also, two new kitties who are about six months old. The male, whose name is Thucydides, I am keeping with me; his sister looks nearly identical to him and she is now friend to [JinXTheMoodieAl].
More on my big move--gotta fly!! hehehe

It is very dark here. Damn this thing--where does it come from?! *rocks back and forth* I want a knife...Damn me!! 
To cry and pierce my flesh, but I won't. I have made a promise. I have made many, yet I struggle to keep this one. 
Go to sleep, You. Let the dreams take you and further your insanity.

[JinXTheMoodieAl] did a Mad Lib. I helped. ^.^
*LOL!*

"When I die I hope somebody comes to the funeral. Somebody loopy. I hope there are big knives full of limp flowers. And there'll be a gigolo who will read passages from Time in my honor. And horny girls will cry out my name. And all the people who humped me when I was little will hang their eyes out. But nobody would ever come to my funeral so nevermind."

He was my God...and you slew Him.
He was no better than yours Who was nothing but a man...
Son of God...
This act--you belittled my beliefs. And suffered mine the same fate as your religion.
And His blood does flow...
Would I cry out knowing these breaths were the last to leave my lips? 
I might try...but who knows how much will it would take to make even a whisper while stretched upon a cross...
Did He?

Now...
You have your Savior.
And I have mine.
We are enemies now--follower of the Son of God.
You and I.
I shall turn all I can...be it so. Lost to Him. Foe to Him.

Festering
Where is the motivation? Where is the forest, and the Moon?
All that I need--myself and a cool night to make me feel a live.
Breathe, run--for once, running is the best way to solve all of my troubles. For always, nothing more natural than running--my strangest passion: yet sometimes, my best.
The vision always fades. I am but in a room, dreaming of the trees, the night.
My Love.

I never thought there was a worse feeling...until a family member makes me feel like an irresponsible and all around HORRIBLE parent. I don't give a fuck about ANYTHING but my daughter!! Why else would i still be in this shit world we call our home?!
My brother can go fuck himself. Yeah, and my mother and father, too.

LIVING SACRIFICE
06.12 Dayton, OH Gathering Ground

Fuck it. Maybe I should stop looking for perfection in something I know is flawed beyond repentance. Maybe, I cannot deal with reality, and maybe I would rather deny the general nature of humans. But honestly, FUck it!!
Does that little bastard know how worthless he makes me feel?? 
Perhaps, I should not build my world around one person--I only need my self and my degenerate mind.
Luckily, I am addicted...lucky for some, unfortunate for me.
There is nothing in me. Fuck him, I hate him!!

Is it time to watch my blood flow once again? Is it time to hate, and push away all that I love...and believed loved me?

My friend's mother Linda is dying. She's had lupus, hepatitis, and endometriosis. I have been told that her days are passed vomitting--or in a haze of Morphine, but usually both. If you ask her how she is doing, she will always tell you, "Fine. I'm doing fine," as she misses your gaze and looks completely drained.
Alicia has told me that no one really knows how her mom is doing or how long she actually has to live. Linda allows no one to go to her doctors appointments with her; not even her husband Les knows how far her condition has gone. 
This woman who I have known for many years--this jovial, outgoing, energetic woman-has been withered in this short time by terminal illness and denial. What I saw in her eyes, even as she looked away, showed me nothing of who she was just months ago.

I shall never leave your side, I whisper into your ear.
And the response is your rasping breath.
The moonlight glints on my sleep-starved eyes: I cannot find the strength to blink and miss one moment of your beauty. My lips pass many times close to your skin, but never to touch. You will burn me.
Inert, the body may only be a vessel, but still a peril. How many times have I been used by all; even you. 
I shall not leave you. My shadow covers you, and you writhe, only to lapse back into the silence of Between. Dare I? No: so, I move not more than an arms reach away. Watching, only watching. Will you sacrifice me, I wonder suddenly? In this state, how could I expect less?
I want to see your dreams, and see that I rule them! Though, I promise you still of my unfaltering companionship, I feel my time is waning. Were I more solid, I might dare...
But the distance will come between us, as it always does. I can never love, just watch. I fade. I fade into nothing more than a whisp of fog, and pass beyond all Life--even further than where you are, my love.
But there surely will be others: there always has been. You will remember me, I fear. 
At least, you may have dreams...

Oh, deliver me! It is coming on again...Please, help me fight this...
*cries*

I am feeling rather depressed...something wants to materialize, it wants to escape or destroy me.

"I can be a hero/ I can be the light"--Project 86
*shudders* creepy little song!

It is within me again...never truly leaves, only lays dorment. It knows the best times to awaken and destroy my sanctuary. My false world, everything I came to understand in a twisted light. This fantasy always falls away, leaving me empty yet sad. 

Amras Galathil (daddy!!)
Nessa Táralóm (me)
Inwë Galathil (my daughter)
Lúthien Galathil (auntie!!)
Galdor Táralóm (my brother)

Hmmm...interesting, Elven names...