Open the door
It’s like meeting an old friend
Not knowing how it’s gonna feel.
Will it work again,
Will it hurt?
Timewarp, jerk back;
A million memories in a millisecond
Then everything shrinks, disappears
And your left with a line
Dividing everything and nothing.
You feel nothing;
It’s like morphine for your emotions
And it comes with a stick-on smile,
Like a Band-Aid to cover the hole
Where cries, and screams, and raw whispers should come from.
It’s like camouflage so good,
You can’t even find yourself,
And you’re not so sure you want to.

I sleep.
I dream of
Cheshire smiles, and
monotonous wrestling, and
chapstick that tastes of Gingersnaps.
I dream of
Mum leaving, and
razorblade love nips, and
brown-haired boys with no face.
I dream of
his butterfly, and
lime, Coke, and rum, and
lightening flashes outside glass doors.
I dream
all of this;
past sashaying through present,
and future always threaded though it all.

She had made her choice. She was going to show him, and it was going to hurt, but she had to show him the things he said he loved. She walked toward him slowly, holding the four corners of cloth in trembling hands. Bending over, she tenderly placed it on the ground. Then she stood and turned away, knowing his reaction would hurt and not wanting him to see her tears.
“This is it.”
The contents spread from the center of the cloth; the jewels and rocks, the rusty scraps and beautiful metal-work. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and scrunched her eyes shut, determined not to cry until he was long gone.
She didn’t hear his inevitable noise of disgust or shock, nor did she hear the sound of shoes hitting the ground. The only thing she heard was the soft rustling and clinking of someone sorting carefully through rubbish. She turned, and she wanted to cry. She thought her mind had snapped and she was hallucinating – it couldn’t be happening. He was kneeling, going through her jewels and trash, touching each piece like a blind man would, seeing with his hands.
After a while, he gathered the cloth up, then stood and slowly walked toward her. Something inside was screaming for her to run away, before he could totally destroy her, but she couldn’t; she wanted to see what he would do. When he was close enough for his breath to ruffle her hair, he tipped up her chin with his empty hand and wiped the moisture from her cheeks with his thumb. That was when she realized that she had been crying.
Horrified, she wanted to break and run. She knew her tears gave her away, but some part of her didn’t care anymore, it was completely focused on him.
“Don’t cry darling. I love it. I love it all, because it’s you. And I love you.”
She blinked and stared at him, not knowing if she could trust his words, or her own ears. She gestured silently at the cloth, brushing her hand over the contents lightly. Then she looked at him, wanting him to affirm that he meant what he said, that he understood what he said.
In response, he reached his hand back to cradle her neck, thumb stroking her cheek, and leaned his forehead against hers. He whispered,
“Yes.”

600 word report. Due.
Friends wanting to know where I've been. Due.
Explanation. Due.
Lots of "I'm ok". Due.
Smiles and laughs. Due.
Normal life. Due.

And that's the schedule. You want to know what's going to happen to that schedule? It's getting balled up and tossed into a corner.

Username: [Your Favorite Stranger]
Character Name: Davarr
Gender: Male
Age: unknown, but pretty old
Creature kind: werecat
Personality: Cynical, witty, very knowledgeable due to his long life, gruff in a sophisticated manner, not the kindest creature, but not cruel.
Physical Features: Silver and gray mottled fluffy fur, with black ear tips. Lavender eyes. About the size of a lynx.
Powers: Telepathy and a small amount of earth and wind magic
Strengths and Weaknesses: Not trusting at all, impossible to swerve, cannot resist the full moon: he sits and goes into a trance when it comes out. He would do anything to protect Annette or Kenter Miyamin. His claws, teeth, telepathy and slight magic are his only real weapons, but he's really quick.
Abilities: catching fish and small game and saving Kenter's butt
Hobbies: saving Kenter's butt, being a pain in afore mentioned butt, and being loved on by Annette
Relatives: none
Loved One: Annette and Kenter
Companions: Annette, Kenter, and when Davarr feels like putting up with him, Twitch
History: He hasn't revealed much detail about his past before Kenter. He chose to be with Kenter after his old master/companion, the sword's master, died. He's looked after and given advice to Kenter and protected his family since then.

Fantasy Races

Username: [Your Favorite Stranger]
Character Name: Kenter Miyamin
Gender: Male
Race: Human/Elf-halfling mix (don't ask me how that happened)
Age: 25
Personality: Kenter eeps to himself, but isn't formidable -- to look at anyway. Intelligent, maybe a little intimidating cuz he's so smart, and not always thinking about things the same way others are. Easy to be with, if he wants to be with you, and if you can find him. Stops to think about problems except when he's fighting in hand-to-hand combat.
Physical Appearance : Dressed in suade leggings and a brown, hunter green or dark blue shirt. When it's a special occasion, he wears silk shirts in the same colors. He has dark brown hair with red highlights, length right below his ears. His eyes are green. He has two scars starting on the top right and left corners of his back, and going horizontally down to the opposite corners, and the letter T burned into his right hand. He has an elvish face, longish and narrow, with a straight, almost pointy nose and almond-shaped eyes. His upper left ear is pierced. His body shape is slim, short, and well muscled for speed.
Height: 5'5"
Weapons: Long sword, boot dagger, 2 magically directed razors, oak bowstaff
Powers: the spell invoking the magic in the razors, shapeshift to a size-appropriate wolf, ONLY AT FULL POWER
Class: Rogue
Strengths and Weaknesses: planning battle strategies quick is not his forte, but stick him on the field and he's lightening. He has something of a softspot for females, especially the petite, helpless looking ones. Jeers and taunts don't faze him at all. His speed and reaction time are very good, enabling him to parry and give a counter-attack before his opponent knows what's going on. His left eye has a rather large blindspot, a result of a sibling fight. He's very protective of his daughter.
Abilities: Blade master: give him anything with two sharp edges and a pointy end and he's all good. Very good with a bowstaff, not as good as with the blades, but good.
Hobbies: Carving figures from wood, splatter painting
Pets: Werecat named Davarr [duh-var]
Relatives: younger brother, older sister, 3 y/o daughter named Annette
Loved One: Annette, and Annette's dead mum, Vera
Companions: Annette, Davarr, Twitch (street kid who idolizes him for some strange reason...maybe cuz he feeds him...)
History: Middle child in a three child household by the sea. While his older sister married a sea merchant and his younger brother became a sailor, he left the ocean and started training as a merc. After his first job, he decided he hated it, and went looking for more training elsewhere. He found an older blade master who, after a lot of begging, trained him for about 5 years before dying. He then set out on the road and learned the bowstaff from woodsmen. Along the way, he met Vera, the petite, helpless looking girl with a personality belying her smallness. They fell in love, got married, then she gets pregnant with twins. She dies during childbirth, along with one of the twins, but Annette lives. This is why Kenter is very protective of her.

Why why why why why why WHY couldn't I have just kept my thoughts to myself?

Inescapable Tears and it feels like I should try to lock them away. I felt all thiS before it Happened, but I refused to listen.

I really did.

Why are you crying? You know he's right.
A nod.
So why are you crying?
A shrug.
Because you're dumb.
No response.
You're just like those you try to grow beyond. You're an immature failure at this thing.
A sob and whispered, "Fuck you."

I can feel it.
Everything's gonna be ok.
I knew it before,
but I didn't believe it.
But now I do,
so baby, just hold on for me.

Sounds familiar as a song. Odd. But it's true. I just needed to get past those dreams that don't matter.

I love you, you love me,
We're a happy family,
With a great big hug 
And a kiss from me to you,
Won't you say you love me too?

*sighs* I can see it already: I'm going to be sleeping in the rain tonight.

Seeing these colors go from yellow-brown to dark blue
Creates these colored thoughts in my head,
Words painted in vivid hues,
And imagery lying wait in my subconscious,
Awaiting the opening of the channels
Through which these waters flow.
Things like sunsets are symbols
All on their own:
They have no tangible translation,
But they mean something,
Something known, but unexpressable,
Or possibly just waiting to become known.
Will I ever know what my sunsets mean?
Will I ever understand the precise meaning
Of cars outlined by the setting sun and shadows
Before they disappear over a hill?
Is there ever really a precise meaning for such symbols,
For cannot symbols, in other words, metaphors,
Mean different things to different view points, different people?
Will I ever know what my sunsets mean?

i always wanted those
walks on the beach,
holding hands and smiling at each other.
those
funny little moments where
you're happy and in love and innocent.
that first kiss,
so careful, and nervous, and new.
dancing around in circles
and knowing it's all ok
cuz you're just kids having fun.
those giggly kisses
in the photobooth
at the mall.
why...
can't this stuff happen for me?
i...
can't?
won't?
don't?
believe it's all one person's fault...
bu i dont know, and lots of people seem to.
the blame game's not important.
i just want my innocence
and he won't give it back.

Then the skinny owl flew at her and she falls. Only mildly shocked, she stands up and dusts herself off. When she looks around, she sees Superman looking at her. He moves closer and she smiles and tousles his hair. She knew him, but she didn't know he was really Superman.
"Guess what" he says.
"What?" she asks, a bewildered expression on her face.
"I love you."

Grrr. My throat is so swollen it's like swallowing razors everytime I swallow. And I can't get to the doctor because we have a huge deductible. Grrr.

I would hate to be rich and own the world
I would hate to be powerful and control the world
I would hate to be bitter and hate the world
I would hate to be suicidal and leave the world
I would hate to be scared and cling to the world
I would hate to be naive and trust the world

I would love to be rich with happiness
I would love to be powerful with words
I would love to fight bitterness with love
I would love to keep suicide at bay
I would love to be scared of fear itself
I would love to be mature and trust you.

When I go to sleep tonight, I'll get there by imagining us spooning, you with your arm draped over me, and I with my arm gently holding a baby. Don't ask me why I see it this way, just know that I do.

You’re off to save the world again,
Flying high, faster than a speeding bullet
To stop the bad guys from taking over,
To save the citizens from peril.
They see you as indestructible,
They see you as so powerful,
But they’ll never see you
The way that I do.
You’re off to risk your life again,
Being superhuman, defying science
To stop the world from falling apart,
To give the people a bit of hope.
They see you as a symbol,
They see you as their hero,
But they’ll never see you
The way that I do.
For all your indestructibility,
I see your vulnerability.
For all your power,
I see your weakness.
For all your symbolism,
I see your reality.
For all your heroics,
I see your mistakes.
For all your Super,
I see the Man.
You save my world
By defeating evil.
You save me
By letting me know and save you.

To Superman,
Love,
Lois