She's smug. Sure of her abilities. A trait that may get her into trouble
Description:
-Shel Silverstein
9/3/2015
I grew up here. This place was my home and I always imagined it as a real physical place. I made friends... and enemies. Fell in love (damn, i was silly) and got hurt.
It's pretty much a ghost town now. Most everyone has moved on. Some cleaned out house. I wonder how many variations of the name "No longer here" there are. A lot of people left remnants though. It's kind of fun to clear of their cobwebs and sift through what is left of an old culture. Something I was very much a part of.
I'm going to clean up my old place. I'll leave some old things intact, mostly what's below this. Maybe put up some new decorations (I've been busy) and move back in. Get away from the chaos of Facebook and other social media.
If there is really anyone left to read this please, come in. Don't hesitate to write or ask questions. It would be nice to meet new (or old) friends.
-Clair
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This is Feather, my little pet who accompanies me on all my treasure hunts...he is frisky and really good at finding shiny things
[Eyonic] made him for me, Thank You!
"We can only be who we are. But wanna know a secret? It doesn't matter who we are. Only what we do"
[member181737] an old friend
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Artists and Bands i Like
-Serj Tankian-
-System of a Down-
-James Maynard-
-Apocalyptica-
-Scars on Broadway-
-Korn-
-Modest Mouse-
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Books and Writers I Love
Alice in Wonderland- Lewis Carrol
Phantom of the Opera- Gaston Leroux
Alan Moore
Margaret Atwood
Neil Gaiman
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Favorite Movies and Directors
Guillermo Del Toro:
Pan's Labyrinth
Quentin Tarantino:
Inglorious Basterds
Pulp Fiction
From Dusk Till Dawn
Tim Burton:
Nightmare Before Christmas
Sweeney Todd
Edward Scissorhands
The Corpse Bride
Alice in Wonderland adaptation
Hayao Miyazaki:
Spirited Away
Princess Mononoke
Howl's Moving Castle
Grave of the Fireflies
Also:
Requiem for a Dream
Last Unicorn
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Video Games
The Legend of Zelda
American Mcgee's Alice
Pokemon
Super Smash Brothers
Soul Caliber
Mortal Kombat
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Poetry <b>
updated 9/3/2015
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She sat and waited for him. The silence echoed in the bathhouse halls around her. He had promised he’d come. He promised he’d bring orchids; violet and indigo. He did. He let them fall in front of where she knelt and the petals shattered into her outstretched hands. They had been purple and blue, like she had asked him. She could see the faintest hint of color, once so vivid, in the decaying mottled brown. She had no strength left for tears.
He took her there, in darkness of the baths. She could feel as his trepidation began to fade. The tiles were cold and merciless against her, as was he. They left bruises on her olive flesh, violet and indigo. It was not a man and a woman entwined in the shallow pool for she was not really there. She had no strength left to scream.
They finished in silence and lay for a minute in the cool water; hesitation and unspoken questions hovering between them. Without looking at her he rose and asked for her forgiveness. She could hear his conviction so she gave it to him freely. He turned and left her there, the remains of her orchids floating around her. There was no color left in them. She had loved with her body and she loved in her mind but her soul had no strength left to love.
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I rise in the morn
And smell you in the air
The musk of you heady
Leading me to where you wait
From my table
you entice me forward
Bare
Exposed
Luring the animal in me
I hunger for you
Laying before me as I approach
Tentative
Are you real?
Or a succubi sent to lure me
It's been so long since I've tasted your rich dark flesh
I take you into my mouth
Savoring you on my tongue
I thought we were out of bacon
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At this moment, cupped in my hands is the liquid light of the world.
it is both the sun and the moon,
raising spirits of the beaten
calming the chaos when we are in writhing with madness
The fire of the righteous and oppressed
leading them forward in a glorious battle
The calming rains
feeding the thirsty
The ambrosia of spirit, will, and compassion
A comforting glow
a humbling knowledge
the medicine of the world
slipping through my hands
being swallowed in mud
I can only watch it trickle away
taking with it my meaning
the soul of what it means to be human
the demon tears through me
filling the void but leaving me empty
and I hunger for sin
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Do you hear them calling?
Oh children of the night.
The beings of dream and darkness,
Shunned from the garish light.
They will tell you stories,
If you will dare to hear.
Tales of love and freedom.
Which you were taught to fear.
You must spread their words now.
Interpret what they say.
Spread the songs and stories,
Of the wisdom of the Fae.
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<b> SOME OF MY STUFF
Desdemona
Desdemona
Used the Draculara Doll and acrylic paint
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Priestess (Unfinished)
Priestess (Unfinished)
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Faun 1
Faun 1
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Sitting Faun
Sitting Faun
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Her Guardian
Her Guardian
The Guardian
"Listen Child, Do not become a slave to unwise men." <i>
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Older Doodles
Eris, Goddess of Discord
For more go to: moonlit reverie
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