My favorite place is in the dark and dim, with the arid stench of decay and echoes of danger in your ears. I'm not home until I'm lost.
My favorite sound is the slow rumble of gears, the lurching power of industry so loud my skin shivers from the noise.
My favorite way to relax is to come home to my lizards, to beady eyes and cocking heads, to the soft warmth of white scales.
-
The Fool
The fool capers in hallways of marble, his japes freezing like stone in icy air. The masquerade is filled with flurries of reds and yellows and deep purples, yet his face is empty and glaring in the lieu of such color, the fool who did not wear a mask. Yet in the light he shines the brightest of all, bathed in gold and crimson.
"Am I the fool?" He asks to a crowd of secrets.
"Do not I wear the true mask?"
-
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
8/29/11
I am a shade, a haunt bathed in orange light and cast shivering into the shadows. I know the crevices of the night, every twist and turn, through gray paths and dimly lit darkness. Music is my guide, the sweet melody of every crescendo to lead me home. If I am not lost, whether in thoughts or streets, it is not worth the trouble.
I am a phantom, seen by many, but a stranger to all. Whether barefoot or boot clad, alone or high in spirit, I toil through the tumultuous rain, I dance underneath thunder, and laugh through sunlight. In the deep, encompassing silence of snow, my footprints are all that remain.
Search the corners that turn a thousand times over and you will not find me. These are my streets, my corners, my asphalt composed of a billion dreams, each one unique to the night and time. I will never stray off of my path, so long as the stars remain to shine in the sky.
In the deep of my troubles, I take the longest road, which never ends.
I am a phantom, seen by many, but a stranger to all. Whether barefoot or boot clad, alone or high in spirit, I toil through the tumultuous rain, I dance underneath thunder, and laugh through sunlight. In the deep, encompassing silence of snow, my footprints are all that remain.
Search the corners that turn a thousand times over and you will not find me. These are my streets, my corners, my asphalt composed of a billion dreams, each one unique to the night and time. I will never stray off of my path, so long as the stars remain to shine in the sky.
In the deep of my troubles, I take the longest road, which never ends.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
"Write a letter to Maura"
Dear Maura,
My life has changed a lot in a small amount of time, and likely will continue to do so. The things I list here I may be bored with in the future, but for now, I hope you find them interesting. Firstly, I love urban exploring nearly most of everything I do. Urban exploring is the art of going to forbidden or closed off places, such as abandoned buildings or drain tunnels (I'm not much for draining, myself) and, it could be added, taking pictures. You have seen some of my pictures that I've taken already, though I've gone to many places since then. I think my love for this odd hobby comes from my love of history, because many of the old buildings I visit have a lot of history. History has to be my favorite subject, and so far my plan is to major in history in college. I love English history most of all, and it's been my dream to someday move to England, which may take awhile, though I'll be studying abroad there next year (hopefully). Another thing I want you to know about me is that I plan to make something out of my life. I've seen so many hopeless people who stay in the same place their whole lives, which gives them a sense of security, but I don't want security. I want to feel unsafe, to take risks. Mainly, however, I want to live in the world outside of America, because in my experience most Americans are isolated from the outside world. I'd hate to live in a bubble my whole life, I think I might suffocate.
One of my goals for life is to publish a book. A daunting task, yes, but I'm dedicated to it. Publishing is ridiculously difficult, but if I even sold five copies that would suit me (not including copies purchased by relatives/friends). I've always had a way with words, such as in this poem I wrote when I was nine:
My poor cousin Jane
She was nine
She was hit by a land mine
I've never strayed from the grisly details, as shown here. I'm not saying I'll be different from any other author, even as fluent as the language in my stories is, I have much to learn about writing as well as about history. The biggest dedication in my life is to learning, and unlike most teenagers, I don't fear an afternoon of reading boring things.
Something I'm looking forwards to in this writing class is the writing (duh) but mostly the fact that it's an eighth hour class, so that I can relax and just write my to my heart's content. Often by eighth hour I'm stressed and annoyed, and through writing I can let go of all of my troubles. Something I'm worried about is that the grammar lessons will all be review, though it never hurts to re-learn things. No one's a perfect writer, not even published authors. I also hope that the prompts won't be too boring. Even if they are, however, I'll do my best to make them interesting in my own way.
Sincerely,
Ericka
My life has changed a lot in a small amount of time, and likely will continue to do so. The things I list here I may be bored with in the future, but for now, I hope you find them interesting. Firstly, I love urban exploring nearly most of everything I do. Urban exploring is the art of going to forbidden or closed off places, such as abandoned buildings or drain tunnels (I'm not much for draining, myself) and, it could be added, taking pictures. You have seen some of my pictures that I've taken already, though I've gone to many places since then. I think my love for this odd hobby comes from my love of history, because many of the old buildings I visit have a lot of history. History has to be my favorite subject, and so far my plan is to major in history in college. I love English history most of all, and it's been my dream to someday move to England, which may take awhile, though I'll be studying abroad there next year (hopefully). Another thing I want you to know about me is that I plan to make something out of my life. I've seen so many hopeless people who stay in the same place their whole lives, which gives them a sense of security, but I don't want security. I want to feel unsafe, to take risks. Mainly, however, I want to live in the world outside of America, because in my experience most Americans are isolated from the outside world. I'd hate to live in a bubble my whole life, I think I might suffocate.
One of my goals for life is to publish a book. A daunting task, yes, but I'm dedicated to it. Publishing is ridiculously difficult, but if I even sold five copies that would suit me (not including copies purchased by relatives/friends). I've always had a way with words, such as in this poem I wrote when I was nine:
My poor cousin Jane
She was nine
She was hit by a land mine
I've never strayed from the grisly details, as shown here. I'm not saying I'll be different from any other author, even as fluent as the language in my stories is, I have much to learn about writing as well as about history. The biggest dedication in my life is to learning, and unlike most teenagers, I don't fear an afternoon of reading boring things.
Something I'm looking forwards to in this writing class is the writing (duh) but mostly the fact that it's an eighth hour class, so that I can relax and just write my to my heart's content. Often by eighth hour I'm stressed and annoyed, and through writing I can let go of all of my troubles. Something I'm worried about is that the grammar lessons will all be review, though it never hurts to re-learn things. No one's a perfect writer, not even published authors. I also hope that the prompts won't be too boring. Even if they are, however, I'll do my best to make them interesting in my own way.
Sincerely,
Ericka
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