going with your flow.

moosic is my religion.

my stalkers.

tagboard

stringlets.

reminisce.

thanks.

Design: doughnutcrazy
Icon: morphine_kissed

Taboo

Title: Blood to Ink

Author: Elli Cole

Summary: A brother loved his sister dearly, he loved her till death comes freely. But his love was eternally sinful, yet he loved her in blood red full.

Art: From Myth-chan

Warning: Incest.

oOo

The waves sing their pleas,
Endless like the sunset rays of glee,
Footprints adorn the soft sands,
Our hands entangled in ribbon strands.

Their colour red mix with their innocence,
Like black and white taints the simplicity,
The sound of the bell signals their sanity,
Ding, dong, ding.

Their tears would meet halfway through,
Cheeks would crash beneath the stars and moon,
The lips of the forbidden had never tasted so good,
Like the morning after they wished were theirs,
Through and through.

The end was near and he always had known,
Like the salty tears that kept falling,
They wouldn't stop coming,
He would blame their blood,
He would blame their bond.

But she was slowly slipping away,
Just like what she said yesterday,
She would someday leave him alone,
But she would wait for him,
Forever, if he had known.

He would see her standing stiff,
Her eyes unfocused and pale,
But he reached out his hand and touched hers,
He held on tightly.

Tightly.
Like he would never let go,
And he can only wish he wasn't entangled with her in blood,
He loved her.

He loved her.

Under the moon and stars,
He promised her,
He would love her till death,
He would love her in Heaven.

He would love her in plain white linen.

Just like how he loved her in tainted silk,
Soft and smooth like the comfort of her touch,
Smeared with red, black, and white,
Her innocence,
He loved her in sin.

oOo

Well, I wrote this poem two days ago and I loved it. I know, it's incestuous. I don't care, though. I'm twisted that way. I love forbidden love. I love that things that you never thought would happen would run deeper than they appear. Korean movies are my center of inspiration at the moment. Poetry has been passing the tips of my fingers to the keyboard for days now. I'm happy.

Very happy. :D

Addendum: I'm really nervous about my PE exam result. Omgolly, I do hope I pass. Please. Have mercy on me, almighty God. Please.

Labels: blood red, blood to ink, brother/sister love, elli cole, forbidden love, incest, original poem, poetry

OMG LIEK WHAT?

OOC or mostly known on the writing fandom as Out-of-Character is used when a character is described differently from the original character in a series. There are a few distinctive traits wherein a character is known for and that is where his person is fully realized and developed. However, when certain authors put those original characters in an AU or Alternate Universe plot, the characteristic or quality of the person changes and ruins the whole essence and personality of the character in the series.

In my experience, I have altered a few characteristics of a character in a series or show and ended up with a whole new person in which the only similarities the characters have are their names and physique. Most of the time, fellow authors bash and flame the story where the OOC is in because it doesn't follow the way the character should act and how he or she should be. It shows disrespect for the work of the original creator. Albeit, mostly, authors of the story warn the readers beforehand of the different qualities of the character, they are still not accepted because of the bad plot and horrible use of the English language. In my opinion, though, online authors should have the freedom to express themselves through writing.

Writing, whether the characters are altered, is still considered as art and the process of creativity.

Write in blank parchment,

Thirst parched in ink,

Characters dull in attachment,

Fingers move out of rhythm,

Thoughts become weak.

~Writer's Block, by me.

Labels: assignment, english one, englone, journal, ooc, out-of-character, writer's block

Ear Plugs Loose

How am I as a listener, you ask?

Well...

I am fairly well at listening when there is little to no distractions in my environment--and that is almost impossible at times. However, my biggest threat is my never-ending urge to daydream. A few of my tactics on how to keep myself focused on the speaker is trying to forget about the images and ideas that keep circulating in my head.

But I'm mostly a bad listener.

However, I'm learning on how to try and keep my attention on the speaker and completely understand what he/she's talking about. It will take time but I'm learning.

I am a reader/writer. And also, pre-occupied. I think I am a pretty obvious person when it comes to listening. I just get distracted so easily that it's better if you just wrote it on a piece of paper and I read it. I can focus more that way.

I know. I'm pathetic.

Labels: assignment, english one, englone, listening

Deep Cut

Pitter-patter,
Do you hear that?
I can hear laughter.

It hurts my ears,
And it damages my heart.
Don't they see?

I'm not okay.

I remember him.
It seems like it was yesterday.
I told him I loved him,
And he turned me away.

Doesn't he see it?
My heart beats for him.
Now it's stopped,
And bleeds for him.

It's hard to let go,
Do you think it's easy?
He acts like it's nothing,
But for me it is.

It's like a deep cut,
It just won't heal,
It burns me inside,
And consumes me deeply.

Can't you see?
I'm now nothing.

I just smile and they think it's okay,
I was happy,
Yet they don't see,
Deep inside,
I'm dying.

oOo

So. Yeah. A poem I wrote for my "friend", Shaine. It had been months now but you know... whenever I talk to him, I can still feel the hurt. I was fine thinking that everything was okay with him but in reality... it wasn't. I was fooling myself into thinking that maybe, he can be "The One" just because we clicked. We have fun talking to each other. But I didn't think that it wasn't enough.

Because it was enough for me.

Unfortunately, he's a needy bastard and he wants more than an intelligent conversation with me. He wants everything what I can't give him. Well, it's his loss. Right? Right?

I deserve better.

A lot better.

Because I'm Cancer.

And I'm the best damn kisser in the zodiac sign. Dammit!

So, anyway, I'm off to continue my fictions, Inevitable Attraction, Blood Red, and Purely Physical.

Labels: angst, deep cut, journal, original poem, poetry, shaine

Shh.

Guess what...

I'm like an endless canvas where your thoughts and knowledge end up. I lay still against the wall and wait for fingers to gently (or non-too-gently) caress my smooth and even surface. But most of the time, you would look at me only at a distance where you can fully see my form. Writings usually cover my exterior and the substance would stick to me but at the times when you're not around anymore, someone would bring out their trusty cloth and clean me until the day's activities are washed away.

Now I question you... what the hell am I?

Now, I take this space for myself.

So, it's a Friday night. I'm here, typing away on my laptop and being extremely lazy. I'm playing chess with Alexis on Yahoo while I'm talking to Ben on MSN. I should be updating my fics on FF.net but inspiration hasn't come back yet.

Where, oh, where has Jack Sparrow had gone?

Anyway, I'm waiting for this Charlie and the Chocolate Factory fiction I've been reading for weeks now. The update hasn't been posted yet. Oh darn it. Nadia is such an awesome OC that I just fell in love with the fic in the first few chapters. How awesome is that? I never liked OCs before because they're just overly dramatic and their characters aren't fully realized yet. But this fic... oh this fic is the epitome of brilliance. I love it.

But I love Lovely Complex more! Oh, my pocky! Episode 21 is finally out! I've been waiting for weeks and now it's finally out and it made me cry! Nobu-chan is moving to Hokkaido and leaving poor Nakao-chi alone. And--and omg, Ootani-kun finally has a rival for Koizumi's love and affection! And he's adorable! How cool is that? Gah! I'm in love.

So... love, love, love. What do you love?

Probably me. Ne? Don't you love me? No? Why? Am I not loveable enough for you? *cries*

Just kidding. :D

Oh, dear. I'm talking to myself.

... I should seriously consider getting my mind checked. I think it's broken.

Labels: assignment, english one, englone, guess what, object

Inspi--what?

Alexis. Challenge. Me. What?

Seriously. Okay, I know I'm well past my prime (*cough* procrastinator *cough*) when it comes to writing "well-written" and "amusing" fictions but I still practice and inspiration just doesn't knock on my door one night and say, "Hello, I've come for you, Adrienne."

It's odd.

Not to mention creepy.

Yes, creepy.

Because inspirations don't swing that way. They're supposed to be androgynous. Not the "Oh-my-gosh-Adrienne-let-me-shag-you-senseless" kind of thing. Yes, my mind works in mysterious ways, I've heard.

So, just to let Alexis eat my dust (I would've cooked for you, Lexy, but I don't know how to. :[) I shall post a horror-slash-angst-slash-fiction right here on BlogSpot. All rights reserved to me (except the picture; it's from a talented artist on deviantART) because I rock and I pwn your souls, b*znitches. The * on that cuss is like Disney. Random and absolutely lame. Stop spreading more sequels! It ruins the originals! Down with the sequels!

Anyway, on with the show.

Puppet Master

Elli Cole

His fingers nimbly moved across the open stage under his hands and the strings followed every deft movement. The lights temporarily blinded him as it focused on his marionettes and flashed on his eyes. The shouts of his audience reached his ears and a surge of an adrenaline rush passed through his body.

The music continued to play in the background and his fingers didn’t stop their movement.

“More!” He heard and he complied. The puppets in his hands didn’t stop their dance to the beat as the strings pulled and their dainty wooden feet floated above the floor of the stage. The fast beat finally started to dwindle down and so did the pace the puppets danced. And he heard the voices that told him to keep going. He wasn’t one to disappoint and as a slow beat started, he pulled the puppets back and kept them near the stage. He appeared from behind the made-up stage and smiled at the little children’s expectant faces.

“Do you want to see more?” He asked them with a small smile. They replied with a chorus of concurring comments. “Because you’re such delightful children, I’ll let you meet my little girl, Alissa.”

The overjoyed sounds of their tones encouraged him as he went to a small basket that he made into a make-shift bed. He took out a small stature of a marionette and cradled it into his arms. He lovingly smiled at the doll and proudly showed it to the children. They looked at it in wonder and different remarks were thrown to him as he stood there with the puppet in his arms.

“It looks so real,” one commented, awestricken. “And it’s so pretty!”

He smiled at her and bowed courteously, the puppet in his arms slightly bounced in his tight embrace. Its long dark tresses swayed from side to side and he gently tucked them behind its ear. “Alissa says thank you, young one.”

The short velvet dress brushed across his arm as he straightened up and smiled at the children who stood up from their seats to take a closer look. They reached out to touch the puppet but his arms firmly tightened their hold on the marionette. He shifted to the side as he deprived them of touch. He shook his head at them and smiled.

“Alissa doesn’t like to be touched by other children,” he scolded them lightly. “But she’ll be willing to dance for you.”

He turned away from them and took his spot at the back of the stage. He laid her on the hard floor of the stage and took a hold of the strings. He tied them on his fingers and he pulled, the puppet rose slowly. He gently moved his fingers in rhythm with the slow beat of the music.

He felt exhilarated. These children loved his little Alissa and she was finally getting her chance to be recognized for her beauty and grace. His fingers moved in a faster pace as the music’s tempo upped. His cheerful expression, however, wavered as he heard screams resonate through the place to the back of the stage. He peered down and saw the doll’s hand roll towards the end of the stage floor. His eyes widened, horrified.

“Alissa!”

He quickly let go of the strings and ran towards the front of the stage. He scooped up the doll’s body and let his tears fall freely. He looked around at the children hopelessly. They were screaming. They were crying. They were asking for help as they ignored him. He cradled the body in his arms lovingly and he stared at the marionette’s eyes.

It was unblinkingly dead.

“My little baby girl,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around the doll’s body. The soft texture of her skin against his reminded him of how she was before. Blood seeped from the red velvet dress and stained his clothing.

“I’m not ready to let you go.”

oOo

End

oOo

Okay, probably not as close to being horror as I would have expected but I still like it. Screw anybody who doesn't. Haha, just kidding. I take constructive criticism rather well. :)

Dedication: This is for Alexis. He always thinks I can do better and he believes in my writing skills. Love ya, hun. <3

I'd rather die,

Than watch you pull,

The strings that hold me together,

The strings that make me whole.

My eyes are dry,

My fingers are numb,

My limbs keep moving,

Under the beat that goes,

Bum, bum, bum.

The lights are on me,

As they usually do at night,

But this night is different,

Because finally, I'm free for flight,

This night is different,

I wish you goodbye.

It's my time to die.

Labels: alexis, challenge, inspiration, journal, original fiction, puppet master

Drink Up, Me Hearties, Yo-ho.

Drink up, me hearties, yo-ho.

Drink it all up, the rum,

And see it all gone.

Drink up, me hearties, yo-ho.

See Miss Swan and Captain Jack make-out,

See Norrington and William freak out.

Drink up, me hearties, yo-ho.

A pirates life for me.

Because you know you want the ending like that. Disney is loony with its lame ending. Did you want Elizabeth Swann to end up with prissy ole' William Turner? No, of course not. Their babies would end up so unlike Jack Sparrow.

It's a crime.

I also committed the crime of having to watch PoTC-AWE at this late of time and having the guts to whine over it after it had been released in theatres for almost three months now.

I cry for my loser-esque behaviour.

But I still ship Jack/Elizabeth because they're right and they're eye-shaggingly delicious.

So with those words, I need to find a certain disclosure from the third installation just because I need some Sparrabeth action.

My take on the last movie:

She had the crown on her head and the smile of success. She was the King of the ocean, she ruled the waves of the seas, and she has Captain Jack Sparrow under the wings of scrutiny.

"Why are you still here, Jack?" She asked.

And he would answer back with a lazy quirk of his lips, "it's the compass, love."

She would step down off from her pedestal and watch him under half-lidded eyes, waiting for a certain word to roll off his tongue. But it never came so as she took the compass from his hold and looked down upon it.

She tilted her head upwards and she would question his purpose.

The compass pointed towards her.

So he would smile and take it from her hands, a small smile evident in the movement of his lips. "It always takes me back to you."

And the sea would roar it's surrender.

Sigh. I miss writing. I should seriously consider getting a new muse. My current one keeps running away making babies with a bottle of rum. Bad Jack, bad.

I also think Barbossa needs some lovin'. The sexy man needs more fangirls, stat.

Also:

Happy Pirate's Day!

I shall talk like a pirate after this entry, arr.

Ye be forewarned.

Labels: at world's end, disney complaints, elizabeth, fiction, jack sparrow, journal, pirates of the carribean, sparrabeth

Nature Speaks

Learning.

It's a part of life. I go to school for the purpose of learning more about certain things and learn new skills and knowledge that I know I won't know of unless I get to be taught on it. I want to know why one thing exists in my life and the other just doesn't. I want to know how these particular things would make my life complete and how they would help me reach my goal.

Learning, if you think about it, is when you make a mistake and deliberately seek out how to make it right. That's where people in your life come in and give you the advice you need to give you an idea on how to improve yourself more. In concern with life in general, I think that we learn through experiences and how we perceive things to be and how we want to see them as.

Learning is something that is natural for us humans. As we grow older, we learn things along the way. It's just simply a way of life.

Labels: english one, englone, journal, learning

It Frees Your Soul

Music has always been a sense of freedom for people to express themselves. Art, unique beats and rhythm, and the video themselves are considered masterpieces as they make up a wonderous music video.

I'm a big fan of music. I love all genres as long as they keep up to my beat and most importantly, if they have great lyrics.

A few bands/artists I listen to are OneRepublic (which is totally under-rated, if you ask me), Bullet For My Valentine, Hollywood Undead (they write the craziest lyrics), Silverstein, Jack's Mannequin, Paramore, Coldplay (I can listen to them all day), Regina Spektor (she has such a soft voice), Iain Ballamy and Josephine Cronholm (artists who lent their music to the movie, MirrorMask), and a few others.

oOo

If I Apologised by Josephine Cronholm

The video shows parts of the movie, MirrorMask, which is a creative way to make it. The bits of scenes that are shown illustrate the creativeness of the music director and how these scenes are important to the song and the movie. They join together in this piece perfectly because it shows the equilibrium of the whole movie and how it progresses.

The flow of the song as well prove to be quite an asset to the music video since it goes so well with scenes. The artistic concept of the video gives it a more unique flare than many others that makes it one of my favorite choices (also, my favorite movie is already included in it). Although, there is a part in the video that the song skips as well as the video so it ruins the mood for that few seconds. But overall, a nice video and a beautiful song to listen to.

My rating: 8.5/10

oOo

Close To You by Iain Ballamy

This video is simply entrancing with its brilliant special effects and a different take of the classic Close To You song. The robots in the boxes represent the Jack-in-the-box type of childhood that you would wish you can turn back to once again. Although, the video is the angsty, dark-type, children and adults alike would love to watch and listen to it since the fantasy-type video would take your attention completely.

The video represents the lost of innocence of one's person and loses the attitude she once had. A different kind of clothing and a different kind of style changes one's persona entirely. But for the whole video's critique, hauntingly good video.

My rating: 8/10

oOo

Apologize by OneRepublic

What I think all these three wonderful videos have in common is their creativity on how the videos are presented as. There is a concept of uniqueness and difference that when a person sees it, he/she would be drawn to watch it further and fully try to understand the video.

The beat also makes you want to sing along with the songs and the lyrics just make you mezmerized with the wonderful choice of words and the imagery that materializes inside your mind. The song and the video is collaborated brilliantly so I commend the video director of this shoot.

My rating: 9/10

Labels: assignment, english one, englone, journal, music

His Touch of Genius

So who hasn't heard of Neil Gaiman yet?

Apparently, a few haven't. Lend me your ears (in this case, preferably your eyes) and read about the wonderful man that is Neil Gaiman.

Neil Gaiman is a best-selling English author of science fiction and fantasy novels, short stories, movies, and comic books. He's 46 years old (and still in need for a good haircut) with three lovely daughters. He lives near Minneapolis, Minnesota, U.S. with his wife, Mary T. McGarth.

At his younger years, he grew up reading the works of C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, Michael Moorcock, Ursula K. Le Guin, and G.K. Chesterton where he was inspired to write based on the genre of fantasy. In the early 1980s, Gaiman pursued journalism, conducting interviews and writing about book reviews, as a means to learn about the world and make connections that he hoped would later assist him in getting published.

He is a man of imagination. He doesn't fear what others might think of his works and he dares to write what is on his mind on paper. He has crossed the boundaries of average imagination to another different kind of level. His books can be considered as legendary and worthy of all its attention and genius.

His distinctive storytelling has been acclaimed writers as diverse as Norman Mailer and Stephen King. He has written a lot of books for readers of all ages as well as comic books that are well up to par. He is listed in the Dictionary of Literary Biography as one of the top ten living post-modern writers, and is a prolific creator of works of prose, poetry, film, journalism, comics, song lyrics, and drama.

A few of his works include the one of the most talked about books of the new millenium, American Gods, which has been well received by critics. It has also been awarded a few well-known awards such as Hugo Award for Best SF/Fantasy Novel, Nebula Award for Best Novel, and etc.

Neverwhere and Coraline are another set of well received novels that has gotten good reviews and are considered as masterful debut novels of darkly hypnotic power. In all of his stories, he displays a different sense of writing, wit, and insight that has an original flare on all of his works that has made him one of the most unique literary artists of our day.

Richards, Linda (August 2001)

Interview Neil Gaiman

http://www.januarymagazine.com/profiles/gaiman.html

(14 Sept 2007)

Gaiman, Neil

Neil's Works

http://neilgaiman.com/works/Books/

(14 Sept 2007)

Wikipedia

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neil_Gaiman

(14 Sept 2007)

Labels: english one, englone, journal, neil gaiman

A Major Block

I have the dreaded Writer's Block. Dun, dun, dun.

Actually, I've had it since two years ago when my three Harry Potter fictions have been on hiatus. It had been a sad year for me since my muse decided to leave me without any notice, whatsoever, before she flew away!

Darn her.

Well, Harry Potter inspiration aside, I've been leaning more into Naruto fictions nowadays (where CCS have been pushed way back into my head) and original fictions. My original fictions have my whole focus currently and I've been thinking of ways how to twist my ideas and make an original story.

But then... here comes the stressful part and where Animo Teatro comes in. They asked me to write their script for their upcoming major production.

Me.

I thought at first, "oh my gee, how exciting is that?" then I had to do work so... I started to dislike it after the first week. I've been procrastinating since July, how awesome is that?

Well, let's forget about my procrastination, shall we? I'll give you guys a little preview of my upcoming novel on fictionpress.com; Unwritten.

oOo

She turned around and something caught her eye. The cover was worn-out and the sides had black spots swathed to the bottom. It wasn't particularly pretty to look at but she was vaguely curious as to why it looked as if it was read numerous times already. She strolled over to the shelf that had consumed the left side of the library and daintily stood on her toes. She reached for it but had the unfortunate luck as she pushed it further back.

A sigh of exasperation escaped her lips and she became aware of the ladder that rested against the bookshelf near her. She hastily scrambled towards it and grabbed it firmly. She carried it to the front of the bookshelf and climbed it in difficulty. She reached down towards her skirt and flattened it out. She bit her lip as she looked at the book pushed to the back of the shelf.

She reached out and flexed her fingers as her fingertips slightly grazed the book’s spine. A grin started to tug at the sides of her lips as she held the spine and her fingers gently tugged it forward. She had it.

“Miss?”

Her concentration broke as surprise took a hold of her senses. She braced herself as she felt her feet slip from the ladder and a gasp escaped her lips. She looked down and saw a pair of arms encircle her waist and a pair of skewed glasses rest upon the base of her neck.

“Are—are you alright, miss?”

She dimly nodded her head as she scrambled to her feet in embarrassment. “I’m sorry!” She sputtered out as a blush started to scatter at her cheeks.

oOo

I have a few more posted on FP but I'm basically too lazy to make them all multi-chapter stories. I have them all as one-shots so yay for laziness.

Love,

Labels: fictionpress, harry potter, hiatus, journal, novels, original fiction