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13. Dez 2005 @ 01:47 Einträge
Got in another wreck today, kthxbye :|
31. Okt 2005 @ 15:41 Einträge
Stimmung: goodgood
Musik: Leaves' Eyes - Lovelorn - Norwegian Lovesong (Chapter I)
Okay, yeah, it's been a while, I'm sorry, damn it, so stop flaming me.

I've moved twice since that last major post, Tony and Tara got married and ran away somewhere, Barnes is...hell, I don't know.

I left Valhalla and tried helping my mother out, big fucking mistake. She spent all of her and my money on...whatever the hell she's on these days, I didn't bother finding out this time. Then the hurricanes flushed all the New Orleans trash up to my town and the economy took a plunge into...well, what's below non-existant? Forget it. -.-

Suffice it to say I was on the edge of my sanity, when my uncle offered me a way out, which I gratefully took.

So now I'm in Mary Esther, Florida with my uncle's family. ^_^

I have to admit, I thought it was going to be more of the same crap as I had to put up with in LA, but I was so wrong.

I've got DSL, for one thing. ^_^

And there's so many interesting people here. Just the other night I met this cutie named Mandy, she's a jewel, I tell you. ;D
Her friends, Chris, and myself had quite a lot of fun that night, imagine trying to find someone that likes anime in fucking Columbia, it's not going to happen, yet it happened in just a few days here! :D

Things are looking up now, I hope I can get in touch with them and maybe find something exciting to do again soon. :)

Oh, and one of those guys looks just like Fuji, if you can imagine an American Fuji, fucking unbelievable, likes Warhammer and everything.

Civilization rocks. ;D
27. Aug 2005 @ 14:05 Einträge
Oh, yes... My cell is 1-318-805-4827, I've somehow managed to forget to tell people I have one. Try to keep calls in the after-hours, unless there's some sort of dire international emergency that only I can save humanity from, you know the drill.

And Zivilyn...I know you're still out there...
23. Aug 2005 @ 04:18 Einträge
I haven't forgotten you, I hope you know.
There's not a day that passes that I don't fondly recall the sight of your smile.
You asked me on many occasions why I loved you...and each time I gave you some silly, light-hearted response.
For, how could I know what made me love you? Surrounded by all the aspects of your beauty, your accomplishments, holding you in my arms, or even being held in your's...how could I have chosen just one?
Well, if you still want an answer straight from my heart...
Simply your smile.
There was never any pain I felt that could survive being graced by your smile.
Even now, despite my tears, I smile, for even the memory has it's power.
12. Apr 2005 @ 20:37 Einträge
To believe time heals all wounds is to place worth in a terrible falsehood.
Some wounds are a continuous process unto themselves.
Such is the void I feel now.
Time has taken the details of you from my memories.
I am left only with the knowledge of their absence.
To know a fine painting not by the knowledge of its splendor, but by the loss of the joy associated therein.
To know with all certainty that some beautiful, fine detail is missing.
No clearer, more acute pain exists.

To stumble through darkness for months on end, palms pouring crimson.
Is such not a tragic way to finally understand the oft neglected beauty of sunlight?
To be willing to trade your soul, your every remaining breath for one last glimpse of true light, if only a candle in a sea of eternal night I find myself unable to escape from...
Can another ever fully understand the pain of seeing their every hope and dream for a meaningful future broken apart, scattered to the winds as flotsam wreckage after a storm?
To have found oneself in an utopia, and then by one's own actions send it into ruin.

From such, can there ever be a true healing?
Or must one spend the remainder of their days scraping for some purpose, some last shred of palpable joy amidst a society devoid of compassion towards such a plight?
If so, what is the worth of such a life?

To see how far one has fallen by comparing their once bright future to the dismal ashes in which they now struggle, is there even a possibility of finding reason?

Or does one continue existing only as punishment for their deeds?
To serve as a continual reminder of their failure, of their fall from grace to a position just shy of sight of some truth, some lasting, meaningful end?

The terrible blackened hope that maybe the next day, over the next obstacle, possibly even as close as through the next door what was lost would finally be found.
That final piece to a once treasured and beloved part of one's life will be returned and all will be, not as it once was, but whole regardless, and perhaps even better, now that appreciation of this particular piece has truly, finally been achieved.

Or maybe I'm just a damned fool.
2. Apr 2005 @ 16:10 Einträge
Musik: Kamelot - The Black Halo - Soul Society
Farewell, Pope John. You were a worthy adversary.
24. Mär 2005 @ 04:39 Einträge
I am awaiting the sunrise
Gazing modestly through the coldest morning
Once it came you lied
Embracing us over autumn's proud treetops

I stand motionless
In a parade of falling rain
You voice I cannot hear
As I am falling again

Devotion eludes
And in sadness I lumber
In my own ashes I am standing without a soul
She wept and whispered: "I know..."

We walked into the night
Am I to bid you farewell?

Why can't you see that I try
When every tear I shed
Is for you?

To Bid You Farewell - Opeth
14. Mär 2005 @ 14:40 Einträge
Stimmung: hurt
Musik: Tool - Sober
To believe time heals all wounds is to place worth in a terrible falsehood.
Some wounds are a continuous process unto themselves.
Such is the void I feel now.
Time has taken the details of you from my memories.
I am left only with the knowledge of their absence.
To know a fine painting not by the knowledge of it's splendor, but by the loss of the joy associated therein.
To know with all certainty that some beautiful, fine detail is missing.
No clearer, more acute pain exists.
13. Mär 2005 @ 13:19 Einträge
Stimmung: broken
Musik: A Perfect Circle - Breña
A lock of her hair,
Given when our love was young,
Ever at my side.
Raven-haired goddess,
Do I mourn alone?
2. Mär 2005 @ 03:36 Einträge
Stimmung: crushedcrushed
Musik: The Gathering - Amity
Those of you who keep up with my schedule of being online will have probably noticed I've not been around in the afternoons as much.

This is because for the past few days, I've been traveling to Monroe every day to go to Suncoast with the intention of talking to their new employee, a cheerful young lass by the name of Shasta.

She's recently moved here from Oklahoma, and I was hoping to befriend her, possibly even date her, once I had learned some more about her...

But, alas, tonight my hopes came crashing down around me.

I met her last Friday, I believe it was.
Barnes had wanted to go into Suncoast to see if Sarah ( a very pretty girl, I'll admit ) was working.
It's a certain cruel irony that it was I that came face-to-face with this girl that was definately NOT this Sarah, as one could immediately tell from the various piercings and dark very-much-not-Sarah's-blonde-as-sunlight hair.

If you were to ask me why I liked her so much, I honestly couldn't answer. Regardless, though, when she came by me and asked if I needed any help, I was awe-struck by something about her. I was quite literally without words for a good couple seconds there. Thankfully, I did recover, and we held a wonderfully fulfilling conversation amidst the action and drama media aisles that surrounded us.

Of course, she was only working part-time, so I had no idea when I'd see her again, and the fool that I am, I completely forgot to ask her for her number or leave my number with her.

So, the only course of action to ensure I met her again as soon as possible, travel the 40-something miles to Monroe every day since with the hopes that she'd be working that day and I could speak to her...

Finally, four-ish days pass until today is reached.

I walk in, pleased to no end that she's there. Barnes and I speak with the senior employee-type girl, Melissa I believe was her name, working at the registers because Shasta's off vacuuming, as it is nearly closing-time. Shasta finishes and comes to talk to myself and Barnes (as he also has been coming with me in the hopes of seeing Sarah, as he's very much wishing to ask for her phone number as well or somesuch.). After talking for a bit, some gothy-type kid walks in and Shasta goes to talk to him for a bit and he soons walks off. By the nature of our timing, they're closing about now, so Barnes and I make for the door, hoping to catch Shasta in a not-busy state later as she's leaving the store. We wait out in the cold maybe 15 minutes before we're both shaking too much to be able to keep a conversation, so we go to get in the car.

Barnes has already gotten in, when Shasta finally makes it outside, but just as I've gotten up the nerve to go talk to her, she's made her way toward a car, which I had assumed to be hers, but to my painful realization, she's gone for the passenger side door, and in the brightness of the internal lights, I see the little guy I saw her talk to so briefly in the store earlier.

And so, having driven an estimated 350 miles over the course of 4 days, standing there in the freezing wind, extremities numb, lungs burning, and heart broken, I find the artist finished the painting before I even had the idea of trying to include myself therein.

I feel so terribly empty these days. There's this void within me that by some tragic chance simply cannot be filled by any means I can imagine.