i love doing this to you, Cherrios. (how's that for an endearing pet-name?) Yes, I mean both the wierd pet-names and changing the layout. What can I say? They have new layouts - and they're coool. ;)
So I was going to put the ending of Three Piles of Ash on here... but I can't find it. Oh well, I'll put it up later - on a different computer...
Cherio, Cherrios!
haha. that makes me laugh.
<3 A.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
coffee + Ingrid Michaelson + a beautiful day = summer
I realize it's been.... ages :) but it's finally summer. bring on the boredom - fun boredom, but its there still. okay, so i'm here to say that I am so confused on what to write. I really am LOOOOOSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTT!!!!! and there's this artist (afore mentioned Ingrid Michaelson) that i'm raving about. A friend recommended her to me and now i'm kind of obsessed ;) how typical of me... look her up (The Way I Am and You And I are my favs)
SO. anyways. if you have an idea for a story you'd like to see, please comment and i'll try and work on it - because i really have NO IDEA where to start. kaythnxbai :)
A.
SO. anyways. if you have an idea for a story you'd like to see, please comment and i'll try and work on it - because i really have NO IDEA where to start. kaythnxbai :)
A.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
nonsensical.
I love wierd words. Nonsensical, aquiest, cloister, phantasmigorical, sardonic (which means the same thing as sarcastic), sarchasm (the void between the sarcastic comment and the person who doesn't get it), silence, paperclip?, sweetheart, prohibition. anyone thinking about quizes? And I love the names of cities. Barcelona, Jerusalem, Cairo, Kiev, Moskow, Tokyo, Montreal, (Niagra falls, if it comes down to it), San Domingo?... okay, so my quiz? What's your favorite words and names of cities. (And, V.T., I think Hell should be on your list :P) I was totally going to say something remotely important concerning a book, but am having short term memory loss. OH WELLZ! Oh, here's another 2 quiz-questions: Favorite book titles and If someone were to write a book about you what would its title be??? kk. Book Titles: the Life of Pi, Jane Eyre (for obvious reasons), I am a Genius of Unspeakable Evil and I Want to be your Class President (I've never read it, but seriously, that's a badass name and its sequel: I Am a Genius of Unspeakable Evil and I Want to Take You to the Eighth Grade Formal :P) Okay, I'm going to delve into and re-read some Writer's Digest (God knows, I practically live out of that magazine...) and get some much needed info... Which leads me to the upcoming book... Our STILL UNNAMED Kristy's Story. I will post more shortly (and I do truly mean shortly). Good Morrow, Cuz. :P Romeo and Juliet is going to my brain... DEATH!
Asiat.
Asiat.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Coffee Beans, Nicknames, Homework, Book UPDATES!
Yeesh. Long time no talk, Minions. BTW, I've been thinking about nicknames. Minions is Heather Brewer and Lady Gaga called her followers "monsters". And I think that we need a new name for you guys. Dragons (meddling in the affairs of dragons...) or Meddlers? Coffee beans? Laptops? Parisians (idk where I go that...)? Warm-bed-lovers? FoRM-etts? Tonix (Tonia and Calix (formerly Adam) shippers)? Adyess (Adyin/Tess)? Leave a comment, V.T.!
Okay. All know my wierd, creepy, abnormal obsession with the caffine-god, Coffee. And what good has that brought me? My own coffee grinder, coffee cup (which I've started collecting, apparently), and Chocolate Coffee Beans... and don't forget the coffee-themed socks! I have a bunch of those little beans by my bedside, too. I just had a wierd thought, but can't remember it anymore. OH well. Oh, wait, nvmd. I was thinkgin about a poem I was going to write. Maybe will write now b/c I'm just rambling... AND that I can't spell the word t-o-n-g-u-e. on the first try. wierd.
My homework to-do list:
finish paper on first memory (2 to-be verbs, one page)
finish Coconuts, 141 (btw, I messed up the rules for that)
start writing daily
start doing something over the weekends (aka get a life)
The End.
Book update on FoRM. It's going to be a series (I can't accomplish everything in just three books, Coffee beans... we can't use that as a nickname.
Asiat
PS: is it sad I'm getting tired of using Asiat? Thinking of changed to the reverse???? HOW wierd is THAT???? lol. Give impressions on this wacko post.
Okay. All know my wierd, creepy, abnormal obsession with the caffine-god, Coffee. And what good has that brought me? My own coffee grinder, coffee cup (which I've started collecting, apparently), and Chocolate Coffee Beans... and don't forget the coffee-themed socks! I have a bunch of those little beans by my bedside, too. I just had a wierd thought, but can't remember it anymore. OH well. Oh, wait, nvmd. I was thinkgin about a poem I was going to write. Maybe will write now b/c I'm just rambling... AND that I can't spell the word t-o-n-g-u-e. on the first try. wierd.
My homework to-do list:
finish paper on first memory (2 to-be verbs, one page)
finish Coconuts, 141 (btw, I messed up the rules for that)
start writing daily
start doing something over the weekends (aka get a life)
The End.
Book update on FoRM. It's going to be a series (I can't accomplish everything in just three books, Coffee beans... we can't use that as a nickname.
Asiat
PS: is it sad I'm getting tired of using Asiat? Thinking of changed to the reverse???? HOW wierd is THAT???? lol. Give impressions on this wacko post.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
A thousand apologies!
A thousand apologies is right, tomorrow is Forgiveness Vespers (aka the beginning of Lent). Some part of me wants to run away from this - wants to seek refuge in another religion that doesn't require fasting. Unfortunately, I know of no such religion - that I would like to become, that is. Without further adieu, the long awaited manuscript I was inspired to touch. I'd like to see if you can tell what it is. I have changed a majority of the "normal" names because they were, well, normal. Too normal.
Prologue
Master Al’ead took the small figurine out of a leather pouch and ran his rough hands over its worn surface. He pressed his lips to it and held it in his hand as a single tear slid down his cheek.
“Myra,” he whispered. “My love, I am eternally sorry. I will atone for it.” A hand knocked against the wooden door to his room. His eyes opened. He gently placed the figurine in his pouch and walked to the door. “Who is it?”
“Adela, Master Al’ead,” came the reply. Al’ead opened the door and a small, dark-haired girl wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Adela, child,” he whispered, sitting her on his cot. “What is the matter?”
“Father,” she sniffled. “Father came to me and said that the Duke wished to see me wed to his son. His son is near ten years older than you, Master Al’ead! But then he and Mam got in a fight, and Mam was saying that we should wait until I was ten-and-four before we considered a marriage proposition. And Father said that then it would be too late to make such a good deal. And he slapped my mother for her intolerance and stupidity.” Adela continued to cry, sobs shaking her small body.
“Shh, Adela,” he soothed. “Be still, child.” She looked at him and cried harder. Master Al’ead thought quickly of a way that Adela would he put at peace. “Would you like a story, Adela? To take your mind off of it? I am sure that your father will heed your mother’s advice.”
“Yes, Master Al’ead,” she whispered hoarsely. Master Al’ead stood and brought Adela a small cup of water to her.
“Do you know the story of our lands?” he asked.
“No,” she answered.
“Well, before the division of the lands, we were one: Mec, Theo, Dragon Island, Kila, Nethalat, the Kar Nar Islands, the Desert Islands. All the countries bound with a loyalty, love, and respect for one another, but there was a man whose hunger for power drove him to begin the divide. Da’lea was his name. Da’lea began spreading lies about each country to pin them against each other with the help of his wife. He was, for the most part, successful.” Master Al’ead reached into the leather pouch tied to his belt. He pulled out the small figurine. “Here she is,” he showed her. “She was a very beautiful woman, and he had, at one point, loved her more than life itself. However, now he began to view her as a tool.” Master Al’ead stopped his story, his grey eyes transfixed on the figurine in the girl’s hands.
“Master Al’ead,” she questioned. “Are you alright? Master Al’ead?” He blinked and smiled quickly at Adela.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “Anyway, he began to seize control of the islands with the help of his mistress, you see, she was a witch. Together, they created war and chaos amongst the islands. Eventually he came to rule the islands, for they saw him as a way out of the violence. He was a horrid leader. Finally, diplomats from the other islands decided that enough was enough. They met Da’lea and his mistress at the Lost City.
“The four couples stood hand in hand at the center of the City. Silver rain crashed down on them and lightning stroked the skies like a paintbrush on canvas. Da’lea clenched his teeth at the others, yelling that this land was made for war and war shall be its destiny.
“The man leading the four couples responded ‘I will not let you do this. I will not let you destroy this land with your lust for power.’ Da’lea replied, ‘I had no need to destroy this land, it destroyed itself.’ He then commanded his mistress, ‘Do it, do it now.’
“The mistress began a rhythmic dance, a wicked chant escaping her lips. Snakes rose up from the ground and killed the four couples where they stood. His mistress held the darkness in her hand, but even the darkness suffers when life is taken from the earth. After all were dead, she ceased her vile dance and collapsed unto the floor as the darkness tried to recover its life force. Try as she might to help the force, her work was to no avail. The guilt of murdering eight people in cold blood came crashing down. The guilt and the force became so much that she died as well…” Al’ead stopped his narration when he saw that Adela slept. He laid her on his cot next to the fire and covered her with a wool blanket. He sat on the ground and leaned his back on the cot. He stared into the fire.
“Please, Master Al’ead, continue with your story,” Adela said quietly, touching his shoulder with her small, warm hand.
“I will, I will,” he whispered, taking her hand in his. “The wicked man was… grieved… to see the one person he loved and who loved him lying dead. He began grieving as no man ever had. He began to repent his evil ways. He began a simple life, not wanting or lusting after power. Deep inside, the man hated himself, cursed himself, for killing the only people who brought peace to the Islands. As much as he tried, the lands would not stop their war. He prowled the land and the sea in search of peace and of death. He grew old searching. He grew old…but would not die.
“The darkness made the man prowl the earth – sometimes in the guise of a young man, but other times as an old one. Even now he prowls the earth…” Master Al’ead stopped. He turned to see the child sleeping peacefully. He brushed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead. “And that man changed his name, moving the letters once to the right: Da’lea, Al’ead,” he whispered. “That man is me, Adela. Would you forgive me if you knew?”
Master Al’ead stroked Adela’s cheek where her tears made little dried streaks. Al’ead gathered her up in his arms. He carried her back into her room and, as he closed the door, silent tears fell down his cheeks. The morning afterwards, Master Al’ead took his leave of the castle. He was never seen again in Nethalat.
Now - which of my many manuscripts do you think it is???
POTATOES!!!!
Asiat.
Prologue
Master Al’ead took the small figurine out of a leather pouch and ran his rough hands over its worn surface. He pressed his lips to it and held it in his hand as a single tear slid down his cheek.
“Myra,” he whispered. “My love, I am eternally sorry. I will atone for it.” A hand knocked against the wooden door to his room. His eyes opened. He gently placed the figurine in his pouch and walked to the door. “Who is it?”
“Adela, Master Al’ead,” came the reply. Al’ead opened the door and a small, dark-haired girl wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Adela, child,” he whispered, sitting her on his cot. “What is the matter?”
“Father,” she sniffled. “Father came to me and said that the Duke wished to see me wed to his son. His son is near ten years older than you, Master Al’ead! But then he and Mam got in a fight, and Mam was saying that we should wait until I was ten-and-four before we considered a marriage proposition. And Father said that then it would be too late to make such a good deal. And he slapped my mother for her intolerance and stupidity.” Adela continued to cry, sobs shaking her small body.
“Shh, Adela,” he soothed. “Be still, child.” She looked at him and cried harder. Master Al’ead thought quickly of a way that Adela would he put at peace. “Would you like a story, Adela? To take your mind off of it? I am sure that your father will heed your mother’s advice.”
“Yes, Master Al’ead,” she whispered hoarsely. Master Al’ead stood and brought Adela a small cup of water to her.
“Do you know the story of our lands?” he asked.
“No,” she answered.
“Well, before the division of the lands, we were one: Mec, Theo, Dragon Island, Kila, Nethalat, the Kar Nar Islands, the Desert Islands. All the countries bound with a loyalty, love, and respect for one another, but there was a man whose hunger for power drove him to begin the divide. Da’lea was his name. Da’lea began spreading lies about each country to pin them against each other with the help of his wife. He was, for the most part, successful.” Master Al’ead reached into the leather pouch tied to his belt. He pulled out the small figurine. “Here she is,” he showed her. “She was a very beautiful woman, and he had, at one point, loved her more than life itself. However, now he began to view her as a tool.” Master Al’ead stopped his story, his grey eyes transfixed on the figurine in the girl’s hands.
“Master Al’ead,” she questioned. “Are you alright? Master Al’ead?” He blinked and smiled quickly at Adela.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “Anyway, he began to seize control of the islands with the help of his mistress, you see, she was a witch. Together, they created war and chaos amongst the islands. Eventually he came to rule the islands, for they saw him as a way out of the violence. He was a horrid leader. Finally, diplomats from the other islands decided that enough was enough. They met Da’lea and his mistress at the Lost City.
“The four couples stood hand in hand at the center of the City. Silver rain crashed down on them and lightning stroked the skies like a paintbrush on canvas. Da’lea clenched his teeth at the others, yelling that this land was made for war and war shall be its destiny.
“The man leading the four couples responded ‘I will not let you do this. I will not let you destroy this land with your lust for power.’ Da’lea replied, ‘I had no need to destroy this land, it destroyed itself.’ He then commanded his mistress, ‘Do it, do it now.’
“The mistress began a rhythmic dance, a wicked chant escaping her lips. Snakes rose up from the ground and killed the four couples where they stood. His mistress held the darkness in her hand, but even the darkness suffers when life is taken from the earth. After all were dead, she ceased her vile dance and collapsed unto the floor as the darkness tried to recover its life force. Try as she might to help the force, her work was to no avail. The guilt of murdering eight people in cold blood came crashing down. The guilt and the force became so much that she died as well…” Al’ead stopped his narration when he saw that Adela slept. He laid her on his cot next to the fire and covered her with a wool blanket. He sat on the ground and leaned his back on the cot. He stared into the fire.
“Please, Master Al’ead, continue with your story,” Adela said quietly, touching his shoulder with her small, warm hand.
“I will, I will,” he whispered, taking her hand in his. “The wicked man was… grieved… to see the one person he loved and who loved him lying dead. He began grieving as no man ever had. He began to repent his evil ways. He began a simple life, not wanting or lusting after power. Deep inside, the man hated himself, cursed himself, for killing the only people who brought peace to the Islands. As much as he tried, the lands would not stop their war. He prowled the land and the sea in search of peace and of death. He grew old searching. He grew old…but would not die.
“The darkness made the man prowl the earth – sometimes in the guise of a young man, but other times as an old one. Even now he prowls the earth…” Master Al’ead stopped. He turned to see the child sleeping peacefully. He brushed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead. “And that man changed his name, moving the letters once to the right: Da’lea, Al’ead,” he whispered. “That man is me, Adela. Would you forgive me if you knew?”
Master Al’ead stroked Adela’s cheek where her tears made little dried streaks. Al’ead gathered her up in his arms. He carried her back into her room and, as he closed the door, silent tears fell down his cheeks. The morning afterwards, Master Al’ead took his leave of the castle. He was never seen again in Nethalat.
Now - which of my many manuscripts do you think it is???
POTATOES!!!!
Asiat.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
The End.
Hello there, bloggetts. So, we're ending the 2000's. And it's not every year that I can say that with such pride. I've gone through everything from moving to preschool to moving again to homeschooling to moving into the attic to middleschool (aka hell) to suicidal thoughts to realizing the pain of death to self-discoverment to writing to art to music to highschool. It's been a hectic, awesome ten years. I remeber the party I went to when I was four to celebrate the new millenia. The start... and now it's 2009 and we've reached the end.
You know what brought this wacko post? I read one of my friend's post on the past years and hopes for the new year. But first the resolutions... the little things I want to do and change about myself for a better me:
THE RESOLUTIONS>>>
1) that I stop being a coward - more active (as is appropriate) in everything, you know, politically, culturally, religiously.. etc.
2) that I spread the peace and love like a creepy hippie :)
3) that I make time for the things and people I love: writing, art, music, design, friends :)
4) and that I might possibly, pretty please, start eating and exercising more healthily!
AND THAT'S IT!
But here, we go...
Large Scale
What word will define the 2000s? Discovery.
What was the most significant political event of the 2000s? The election of Barack Obama, I suppose.
What was the greatest TV series of the 2000s? Something between Castle and NCIS and Criminal Minds and Ugly Betty.
Greatest Tragedy of the 2000s? War, 9/11, abortion.
Most influential person of the decade? um - NO IDEA.
Personal
Of the ten years of the last decade, which one was your favourite? 2009: my happiest, best, most defining year yet.
Which was your least-favourite? 2007. seventh grade = hell.
Was it a life changing decade for you? YES. I grew up in this decade. I'm changing everyday, every second.
Highlight of the 2000s? Traveling, family bonding, friend bonding, love, music, health, memories.
Lowlight of the 2000s? moving (to Pittsburgh - it started out as a low, then ended as a high) and 7th grade where people had to "watch" me a lot...
Are you happier or sadder? happier. I've gone through a lot and made it out alive. Defo changed for the better.
What do you plan to tell your grandchildren about? what I've learned. How life sucks, and, though you may want to die, you need to live for those who love you; that following your dreams is started by taking ONE step - following them is important for life!
The Future
What is your greatest fear for the coming decade, on a global scale? that we will loose our value of life. fresh water. respect for others.
What is your greatest fear on a national scale? the healthcare that will pay for abortions. it isn't right - never will be!
What is your greatest fear on a personal scale? That I'll never be able to go all those places I've wanted to go - that I'll never be able to be the globe trotter, my dream. that my books will never be published... or my art never loved by anyone but my friends...
What is your greatest hope for the coming decade, on a global scale? For some kind of youth revolution. that the youth will realize just how much power we wield and how we can expand and live!
What is your greatest hope on a national scale? that we realize that we have to help our own nation before taking on the world. let's feed the hungry here before we feed the worlds.
What is your greatest hope on a personal scale? Financial stability; college; book publishing and art selling frenzy.
WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR THE NEW YEAR? RESOLUTIONS? HOPES? :D COMMENTOS!
A.
You know what brought this wacko post? I read one of my friend's post on the past years and hopes for the new year. But first the resolutions... the little things I want to do and change about myself for a better me:
THE RESOLUTIONS>>>
1) that I stop being a coward - more active (as is appropriate) in everything, you know, politically, culturally, religiously.. etc.
2) that I spread the peace and love like a creepy hippie :)
3) that I make time for the things and people I love: writing, art, music, design, friends :)
4) and that I might possibly, pretty please, start eating and exercising more healthily!
AND THAT'S IT!
But here, we go...
Large Scale
What word will define the 2000s? Discovery.
What was the most significant political event of the 2000s? The election of Barack Obama, I suppose.
What was the greatest TV series of the 2000s? Something between Castle and NCIS and Criminal Minds and Ugly Betty.
Greatest Tragedy of the 2000s? War, 9/11, abortion.
Most influential person of the decade? um - NO IDEA.
Personal
Of the ten years of the last decade, which one was your favourite? 2009: my happiest, best, most defining year yet.
Which was your least-favourite? 2007. seventh grade = hell.
Was it a life changing decade for you? YES. I grew up in this decade. I'm changing everyday, every second.
Highlight of the 2000s? Traveling, family bonding, friend bonding, love, music, health, memories.
Lowlight of the 2000s? moving (to Pittsburgh - it started out as a low, then ended as a high) and 7th grade where people had to "watch" me a lot...
Are you happier or sadder? happier. I've gone through a lot and made it out alive. Defo changed for the better.
What do you plan to tell your grandchildren about? what I've learned. How life sucks, and, though you may want to die, you need to live for those who love you; that following your dreams is started by taking ONE step - following them is important for life!
The Future
What is your greatest fear for the coming decade, on a global scale? that we will loose our value of life. fresh water. respect for others.
What is your greatest fear on a national scale? the healthcare that will pay for abortions. it isn't right - never will be!
What is your greatest fear on a personal scale? That I'll never be able to go all those places I've wanted to go - that I'll never be able to be the globe trotter, my dream. that my books will never be published... or my art never loved by anyone but my friends...
What is your greatest hope for the coming decade, on a global scale? For some kind of youth revolution. that the youth will realize just how much power we wield and how we can expand and live!
What is your greatest hope on a national scale? that we realize that we have to help our own nation before taking on the world. let's feed the hungry here before we feed the worlds.
What is your greatest hope on a personal scale? Financial stability; college; book publishing and art selling frenzy.
WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR THE NEW YEAR? RESOLUTIONS? HOPES? :D COMMENTOS!
A.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Three Piles of White Ash
my revised scary story for hnrs. eng. I. tell me if you like it!!!
Curtained in long lashes and eyelids shadowed in black, the woman's eyes were closed. She lay on the floor of the forest, the dead, lifeless trees stretching into eternity before her. Her bloodless face the palest of whites and her body covered in a ruby red cloak. Her long hair, tangled with twigs and leaves, fell about her face. Lips the color of blood whispering to the grey sky, dusk approaching as quick as the desperate whispers; she was whispering.
The man watched her seemingly lifeless body, waiting for her to breathe. She is whispering, he thought. She is whispering, but not breathing. It didn't seem possible, but there she lay, still as a lifeless corpse, whispering without breathe. He gasped as she sat up. He watched, enticed by her beautiful face to look onwards; he admired the perfect face.
She looked at him through her closed eyelids, but suddenly that sight was not enough. She stood up. She opened her eyes, expecting to see his horrified face turn and run. He stood still watching her, his face even. She saw more clearly his face, his closed eyes. She gazed, shocked.
He saw her eyes and felt the urge to run. They were the same kind. He approached her, touching her face as it hung awkwardly from her neck in the position of a dead person, touching her face around her white eyes. She responded by touching his closed eyelids and swerving uncomfortably, disturbingly. He ignored the burn he felt when he touched her skin.
She watched with certain fascination as he opened his eyes. She looked into the whiteness that lay between his eyelids. She felt the burn where he touched her face. Her red lips pressed into a smile, the burning felt good. She reveled in the touch of his long, elegant fingers. She picked a twig from his dark, tangled hair. She ran her fingers along his red lips. She barely noted that his head was hanging awkwardly from his neck. Watching his face with an upsetting amount of attentiveness, she did not notice the moon rising.
But, then, he did not see the moon rise either; he saw nothing but her glorious face.
OKAY... i'll post the rest later... i got dance!!!
Curtained in long lashes and eyelids shadowed in black, the woman's eyes were closed. She lay on the floor of the forest, the dead, lifeless trees stretching into eternity before her. Her bloodless face the palest of whites and her body covered in a ruby red cloak. Her long hair, tangled with twigs and leaves, fell about her face. Lips the color of blood whispering to the grey sky, dusk approaching as quick as the desperate whispers; she was whispering.
The man watched her seemingly lifeless body, waiting for her to breathe. She is whispering, he thought. She is whispering, but not breathing. It didn't seem possible, but there she lay, still as a lifeless corpse, whispering without breathe. He gasped as she sat up. He watched, enticed by her beautiful face to look onwards; he admired the perfect face.
She looked at him through her closed eyelids, but suddenly that sight was not enough. She stood up. She opened her eyes, expecting to see his horrified face turn and run. He stood still watching her, his face even. She saw more clearly his face, his closed eyes. She gazed, shocked.
He saw her eyes and felt the urge to run. They were the same kind. He approached her, touching her face as it hung awkwardly from her neck in the position of a dead person, touching her face around her white eyes. She responded by touching his closed eyelids and swerving uncomfortably, disturbingly. He ignored the burn he felt when he touched her skin.
She watched with certain fascination as he opened his eyes. She looked into the whiteness that lay between his eyelids. She felt the burn where he touched her face. Her red lips pressed into a smile, the burning felt good. She reveled in the touch of his long, elegant fingers. She picked a twig from his dark, tangled hair. She ran her fingers along his red lips. She barely noted that his head was hanging awkwardly from his neck. Watching his face with an upsetting amount of attentiveness, she did not notice the moon rising.
But, then, he did not see the moon rise either; he saw nothing but her glorious face.
OKAY... i'll post the rest later... i got dance!!!
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