These wings aren't really here, they're just the trick of the light.

I LOST THE GAME.

9:41 AM
"(damnation of memory)"

Fading into a nightmare
of delusions of grandeur
and vain suppositions of power...?
The people...are fading too.

A wellspring of faith
brings hope but
like a flickering candle--
it dies in the midst of a rough wind.

Bring your hands together
from the invisible chain that binds
those with the same fate
and fight to return to what once was.

A conquest of peace
brings about destruction--
Does this make it all the more worthy
or meaningful? meaningless?

Nightmares last
as long as the night lasts
but life continues onward for eternity--
Will we ever wake up?

A shallow sleep
is not sufficient
to take back what was lost
and forsaken.

in memoria di me--
aegri somnia de perdido.

(in memory of myself--
lost in troubled dreams)

--damnatio memoriae

What ho! (the Shakespeare meaning please) Tis' another weekend to which I'm grateful is finally here. It's been a tough week for me but I'm sure others have it tougher than I. (If so, how are you? and you've got a listener on your side if one is called for.)

So lately I've been assigned by my Graphics teacher to design something for a T-shirt--it's a class project--but, what he doesn't know, is that I've been in a big artistic slump ever since I've been writing. Though I don't see it as a bad thing since I've been writing more poems as of late and that's quite an achievement for me (though they don't make much sense at times, or they focus on a character or a specific story). But I'm glad that I've gotten into the habit of writing in poem form since it helped me on an English assignment I had to do on Tennessee Williams' play A Streetcar Named Desire. It's a lovely play, though violent and at times suggestive, but it gave me a lot of insight on real-life conflicts and character development.

The strange thing in my school is that no one likes the books that are assigned...is that true? maybe, but I previously watched the movie and loved it so I loved the play version twice as much. Then, there was Millers' The Crucible, which I liked and made me take an interest in Nathaniel Hawthorne's works... Before that, we had to read various articles, though a bit boring (since the way we did these were really repetitive) they were on interesting subjects. Some, if I remember correctly were on: childhood obesity--who is responsible?; teenage crimes and whether sending them to adult jail was justified...things like that.

...I believe what I was trying to say is that reading is a fun and educational activity. Call me old fashioned but people, especially teenagers need to read more. I'm kind of tired, if not a little annoyed, when a student says something that is so obvious if they had read the material assigned.

I'm at a crossroads right now. One, I could continue ranting about what I find faulty in the educational system, while implementing multiple exclamation marks in the process. Or, two, I stick to my Libran nature and not poke the sleeping bear with a 3 cm toothpick. IT JUST CAN'T BE DONE! And besides, my mind wanders faster than the Roadrunner does from Wile E. Coyote. (I'm trying not to focus on anger because it makes me feel idiotic as I type.)

Is it just me who feels a bit lost? Probably...or not.

...Here's something that was mentioned today.

RULE 1: You are playing The Game.
RULE 2: Whenever you think about The Game, you lose.
RULE 3: Loss must be announced

The objective of the game is to forget it exists.
Crap. I just lost the game.
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...Text spam

11:19 PM
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
Ll work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
L work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

Work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
Ork and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
Rk and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
K and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

And no play makes Jack a dull boy.
Nd no play makes Jack a dull boy.
D no play makes Jack a dull boy.

No play makes Jack a dull boy.
O play makes Jack a dull boy.

Play makes Jack a dull boy.
Lay makes Jack a dull boy.
Ay makes Jack a dull boy.
Y makes Jack a dull boy.

Makes Jack a dull boy.
Akes Jack a dull boy.
Kes Jack a dull boy.
Es Jack a dull boy.

Jack a dull boy.
Ack a dull boy.
Ck a dull boy.
K a dull boy.

A dull boy.

Dull boy.
Ull boy.
Ll boy.
L boy.

Boy.
Oy.
Y.



..that is all. :) No, of course not... I, in my boredom decided to post a scene that I just can't get right (I'm actually procrastinating but...)

“Stars fall constantly, that's why our sky is bleak and dark.”

There is none but a moon, and sun—though small—that is constantly covered by thick clouds. A voice echoes, in that bleak reality, a reprimanding voice full of scorn. They say the world was forsaken. They say the world is doomed. They say the world is in the hands of a jealous god, who, sickly with envy and hatred for humans, wishes to extinguish their own creations...

A smile...sharp, jagged. Sunken hollow faces emerging from the fog...

Crunch! Goes the leaves under their steps as they neared the child amongst them. Long hair obscuring her shaky body, a torn dress soaked in red. She had tripped and fallen, losing her escort because of a game. This wasn't a game now.

The child, tears running from her eyes, looked around her, fear welling in the pit of her stomach. Then she stopped shaking. The hundreds of figures, the glowing, ravenous eyes, disappeared one by one, leaving a boy behind. He was like the others, pale in skin, though dressed fashionably in black and white, a red ribbon tied on his right index. Lorelei attempted to stand, suddenly noticing a ribbon on the same finger.

It wasn't there before.

Upon standing, the wound had healed and Lorelei had grown in age and appearance, from a young child to sixteen in a split second. The other had grown too, revealing a young man. He appeared to be the same age as Lorelei but there was something in his face that said otherwise. Tall and lean in structure, clad in a plain white dress shirt with hands in his trouser pockets. Through his dark layered hair were light blue eyes. Under that indifferent gaze revealed years of hurt. Suddenly, his mouth moved to form words, but Lorelei couldn't hear. He didn't seem bothered whether she heard or not.

Wanting to know more, she took a step towards him, he, backward. She paused momentarily, dashing forward to meet his challenge. He, with the same expression, spun around and walked away, gradually speeding up into a sprint. Lorelei was alone.

Fear, the same fear from her earlier encounter, returned. The same footsteps... The images from before, those human-like creatures... Panicking, she turned round and round, shouting with no voice, to something or someone... Whatever it was she was shouting, she noted three syllables...a name. She stopped and looked at her hands, the ribbon no longer present on her finger. Sadness leadened her heart.

To the left. The snapping of twigs. To the right. A faint breathing... She looked to the roof of the forest, catching a sparkle, no, several glints of light fall in the same direction the young man took. There she ran, constantly looking up at what she believed was the sky through the tops of the trees, using the fear of her assailants to push her bare feet harder.

And somewhere in her chase to find him, a verse came to mind. It was unfamiliar and not; like a tugging memory or a fragment of a dream...

“A sky full of stars where you can reach and take one if you wanted to.
A sky where light shines. A sky of springs and summers and autumns...
Somewhere, there's a sky that we'll watch together...

“Promise me this.”

...

For a second on the path, there was light. It's brightness consumed Lorelei's figure, swiftly turning to darkness. The forest scenery was gone and what remained was null space. He stood there, his back towards her. Slowly, he peered over his shoulder, his eyes registering the girl who stood meters away. Lorelei shuddered at his gaze.

For a second, there was sound, Lorelei's hands clenching the fabric of her silk nightgown. But nobody talked.

Then there was a tear that slid down Lorelei's face.

She remembered his name.

His name was...
And there's a significant break after that. Critique, comments, any kind of feedback or random comment is welcome.
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Random song & poem for you all

1:31 AM


Not much going on, except the week is almost over and that I'm trudging along with the writing. A couple of jarring things in real life have come up but it won't affect my internet life that much. :) And here's me using the concept of Pandora's box yet again while trying to keep that fairy-tale/fable-esque feeling since morality (or heaven and hell) is mentioned a lot in those stories... Oh, try to guess what the title is here. *goes to sleep*

Honor thy knight's code
and protect thy princess from harm
Slay the dragon barring your path
to claim said princess
as your beloved bride

Enter the chapel
in white and noble dress
awaiting the hand of your ethereal bride
Speak wishes and promises
sealing Pandora's box with a sweet and holy kiss

Burn, burn, burn
the holy kingdom above
Desecrate the sanctuary
that houses all the holy angels
and bring death to earthly heaven

Beckon the devil's advocates
and the unholy king to unleash his wrath
All the sinful sons and daughters
gather on this holy matrimonial day
to blacken the air with their spite

The sweet flower beckoning
thus plucked
unlocks the horrid chest
Unleashing the hellish desires
that overrun the knight's young heart

Obliterating the purity
that had dominated
this once magnanimous soul
For the angel withers under the devil's touch
and all is lost in the material world

CHIVALRY IS DEAD!
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SS# 158 Scary

11:10 PM
Fear starts
in the deepest part of our hearts
because that's where we keep things true

In the merciless fog we call doubt
there is no way out
but up towards the heavens

Yet we cannot fly
no matter how much we beg and cry
to sprout wings on our undeserving backs

We're left here to face
what we've tried so hard to erase
from our thoughts and everyday life

So we wander, wondering
how and when the end to this suffering
finally arrives

But is there a way
to find the light of day
in this cumbersome shroud?

My biggest fear probably is to keep burying things on top of another till it kills me from the inside out. D: That just sounds terrible.
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Titles

8:45 AM
Title, title, where art thou?
A name to call this story now;
Far and wide, I have sought,
A worthy name to fit this plot;
A list, reaching down, down, down,
All the way to that god-forsaken town;
St. Ezra, the name of an unholy saint,
Cannot possibly be the title I hope to take;
Of angels and demons, metaphorically, of innocence and sin,
Some kind of title...come on... What a rut I'm in!

There's my dilemma for you...in nifty poem form. I have no fitting title for the re-write. But, I came here (since we have thirty minute periods b/c of an assembly before heading to Spring Break) to ask what defines a good title? Whether it's a story or even an essay (or a title for a person)... What does that title define for whatever object it's given?

I know that a title can't be given unless there was some sort of connection to, say...a book. The Metamorphosis obviously has some guy going through a great change. And The Idiot surely mentions...an idiot, to put it simply (but a lovable idiot at that). Oh. And a prime example: Harry Potter and the...(blah blah etc. etc.) You can't not know what's going to be introduced in the HP books if you haven't looked at the cover!

...So I'm sitting here wondering, and I have been sitting on this mental bench for awhile because all I can call my work now is Untitled or...the other names I listed next to all the character names and related poems. I've got to get focused on the main idea because, well, don't they sum up the most important part of a story? but in one word? (or three at best if you don't count those Panic! at the Disco songs...etc.)

A good title...before or after plot completion? :) Asking myself this, I say after plot completion. It only sounds right...*ponders*

Oh, Happy Thursday Bloggers it's almost the weekend and I hope everyone is pulling through fine...besides my title issue.
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Mortal Peep Fight!...and a Screencap

11:23 PM
I don't know. :D Felt like posting something I've been laughing at for a while.


I never liked Peeps anyway.

Ooh, check this out too!


Congratulations on the 1000 views Luna! I came across it randomly, hope you don't mind :3
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SS# 157 Celebration

3:18 PM
I've been choosing not to rhyme lately :) but this poem I had fun doing. When I hear "celebration" I immediately think of something happy...how about you? EDIT: finally gave the darn poem a title.

"The Misadventures of the Working Man"

i wander
and wonder
the desire of a celebration
on the day
when Death decided to creep closer...

“what is the purpose?”
i query to no one in particular
but all there is around me
is stark artifice
and the mocking blue sky

people abound
their suitcases and suits
with straightened ties
and snazzy haircuts
all have somewhere to go

while, i on the other hand
return to the emptiness
that is my apartment
down the street
of a begging homeless man

and somewhere along the curb
were the poorly disguised cars
and various transportation vehicles
of close friends and colleagues

with portfolio in hand
the key well into the lock
i take a deep breath
my eyes downcast
and open the door...

“SURPRISE!” they cry
CONGRATULATIONS!
writ on a banner on the wall
where balloons were set modestly
over a candle-lit cake

my dejected expression
caused the shouting party
to cease their revelry
and immediately became...
perplexed

as to what they were confused about
i didn't know, nor did i want to
but all i did know
was that the gathering was intended for my roommate
and i forgot to bring a present

...go me.
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(hesitation)

2:08 PM
I just wanted to post something I thought was nice...though unrelated to me personally. :)

darkness surrounds
the depths of my mind
where dreams and hopes
illuminate this entity

like pandora's box
there is a key
and demons
with hope stashed in the very bottom

though where that key is...
it's in my hand
in my mind
as my greatest fear

do i?
must i?
i don't want to yet i have to
wake up and live and forget...

i dismiss my dream
as another phantasm
of a fragment of a memory i had lost
or a never ending night terror haunting me still

...my hesitation

what is it that i had forgotten?
what was it that led me here?
i see a box in the nightstand and a key in the drawer
i take the key with the desire to open it

...but I stop

the peal of childlike laughter
rings in my ears
clear like the resonant bell
that will ring on my wedding day

this box
i suddenly can't remember...the purpose
as i stood here
perplexed

then a voice calls
my name
and a time
to where i have to be in an hour

hearing this
i drop the key
and dress in a hurry
unawares of what i left behind

...the key to what i'd forgotten
wrapped in a pretty pink box
was the hope i had when i was twelve
to dance as elegantly as a swan

and somewhere along the lines
a faint tune could be heard
pachelbel's canon in d
in music box form

it was as if my heart had been pulled
like the strings of a violin
as i fell to the ground with grateful tears
to remember the dream i erased

the hesitation of hope
is purposeful i guess
for i'm grateful
for both the song and the two arms locked in a comforting embrace

only in a dream
does pandora's box close
but this isn't a dream isn't it?
soft words melding into a song...

a lullaby to quell
even the deepest of fears
for what i gave up is
for someone i equally loved.
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The Sleepless Dreamer and Dreamless Sleepers

6:48 PM
Happy Friday everyone!

Alright, so maybe not everyone is having a happy Friday or a happy...whatever...but know that I wish you well wherever you are...and to backup your writings and important computer stuffs however you can.

I'm just glad the account documents were saved onto the Mac's hard disk...automatically.

Long story short, I just had the biggest computer scare I've had
for awhile. The first was when my laptop was overwhelmed by some pesky malware that took over my desktop and tried to make me sign up for fraudulent virus prevention software. But I came out unscathed...except that that laptop's memory is F-R-I-E-D. Fried. I don't know if I've mentioned this but it wasn't mine in the first place anyways... It was my step-brother's R and he just played World of Warcraft (and did other stuff, I'm just not sure what) before giving it away (*cough*selling for a profit*cough*)

To rectify my past meaningless posts, I'll dig something from my piles of notes about what I'm working on (It's the weekend so I can focus on this finally!)...

I've always wanted to have a dreamy storytelling style. Dreamy in the sense that the reader is aware of the character's individual conscience and see through their perspective without using 1st person point of view. 1st per. PoV doesn't necessarily agree with me. You see, just because I like to explain myself, my empathetic nature really gets to me when I do a 1st prson narrative but I have to be able to focus on that character, as well as keep the atmosphere in the story similar to the atmosphere in real life. I doubt I can write a sad, harrowing scene when Pop music is playing or cartoons are blaring on the tv--just to give examples.

Moving along...a writer friend of mine said I write in third person omniscient and blah blah etc. etc. As much as there are technical names to label how a person writes, I honestly just want to write however this story comes to me. Surely, other writers feel the same way...until they take their work to a publisher. Now that's where we have to get a bit technical with how we do things, since everything's been written already--the dreamy part is over--writers revise according to how an editor sees fit. And, from what I gathered from the experiences of published authors, it's difficult. Editing, overall, is difficult..but they pull through it somehow.

...you know, that wasn't the topic I wanted to address, but I was thinking about it all the same.

So, sleepers and dreamers...don't take it the wrong way :) I'm working on the concept but I thought sharing it would be best.

How I defined these two terms came lightning fast in that epiphany-type moment or the shout-out-loud "Aha" moment. (Now I know I'm not the only one that's been reprimanded for talking loudly when it's dead silent...and yes, I've been perusing the Dictionaries and Thesauri laying around (even the ones at school)) Hmm...so what is the meaning to the blog title? Sleepless and dreamless are pretty self explanatory (as I thought to myself earlier today) but what about the other words? *starts rifling through notes and dictionary*
  • Dreamer: someone who has plans that are not practical; something beautiful that can only be seen in a dream...etc.
  • Sleep: to rest your mind and body by lying down with your eyes closed; any condition of inactivity or rest; death; Sleeper: One or who that which sleeps; someone or something thought to be unpromising that unexpectedly attains value, importance, notoriety, etc.
I found the school dictionary definitions to be lacking and...dumbed down, no offense, so I turned to my trusty thick Webster to give me the second halves of these definitions. (Can you believe the school ones didn't even have "sleeper" in it? I was momentarily confused when it wasn't there) but now that I have these I can move on. :)
Time slows and memory is an illusion
Those beyond the Holy city, drift into a profound sleep;
While those within live through this ice-cold reality
Throughout this dark delusion, one half seeks another--
The sleeper seeks the dreamer in order to find truth in the blinding fog.
The above probably won't make much sense since it's only part of a poem...most likely I should say. ^^'' So I came up with the following:

+ + + The sleepless dreamer is caught in their own delusions of what used to be (maybe of grandeur). Sleepless, means restless. Dreamer means one who looks not on reality but on fantasy or what does not exist...anymore. They, unlike sleepers, have long since blocked out the hurtful things in their life and, thus, cannot live in -this- reality because it is full of hurtful things. Another good way to put this is that they are in denial(?). The epitome of innocence (?).

+ + + The sleeper without dreams can be seen as a realist. They, having forgotten or forsaken the ways of being childlike in nature or heart, are on a path to self-destruction. They walk, indifferent, because of past conflicts, of broken promises...someone with a long memory. Being able to dream is being able to step in a children's world where answers are given as candidly as possible; "Dreams are the territory of children etc. etc."
I omitted a lot of stuff but there's a visual of my thought process for you. I thought it'd be a fun thing to share since I too wanted to know myself. I wanted to know whether I really do think better when I'm at the computer than on paper at school or anywhere else.

Hmm...most likely it's because: 1) I'm more comfortable here, especially since I can play awesome ambient music really loud where no one springs at me every few seconds asking what I'm listening to 2) I;m sitting in a comfortable chair and wear equally comfortable clothing 3) NO OUTSIDE DISTRACTIONS?! *laughs triumphantly*

Oh, and I have a lot of space to put my notes and junk without having to worry about people (again) asking what I'm doing and then attempt to get a peek at my papers and even have the gall to snatch them from my workspace and read stuff out loud D: Then again, I have this weird print-cursive writing style that causes people to scratch the back of their heads in wonder.

Its the weekend. I've got time. I'm fairly happy with the goings on in my life. I've got a functioning computer. Now I'm very happy...just because everything seems to be going well. So, I hope the length of this post can be excused. :3

EDIT: Hey it's the 60th post! *dances randomly and horribly*
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