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26 August 2008 @ 11:42 pm
This is a poem that just sort of came to me a few nights ago, and I was hoping for some feedback!

In the quiet morning, I stand alone.
The soft mist seems to still my heart,
Graying my eyes to the far sun
That has not yet risen.
My steps ring no music,
Do I even make them?
This gossamer web cocoons me,
I cannot see out.
The crescendo of light
Does not break my shell.
My eyes seem dull,
Like they have turned to glass.
Is my vision skewed,
Or am I finally seeing?
A pattering beat breaks,
Then halts.
 
The final song has stopped.
 
My glass eyes look down,
At the chest that does not rise,
Then at the body that is gray
To match the fog around me.
My hair a soft misty plume,
I grow faint.
I think I am fading,
But thought stops.
My form flows,
And gray meets gray
As I lose myself
In the morning mist. 
 
 
24 August 2008 @ 01:49 am
Alright, so after taking a break from my one-act script (which is driving me mental, fyi), I started trying to come up with some character names for my originally short, but now very long, story. Out of curiosity what comes to mind when I say Kendall Laurence (female) and Aidan Finley (male)? I've been having a debate in my head as to whether a couple's name need to flow together. It seems a lot of them do... Edward/Bella, Darcy/Bennett (on a side note, I just realized they have the best hybrid name ever: Darnett), Bridget/Mark, Arwen/Aragon etc. I know those are very random examples but to be fair it is two in the morning (ice cappuccinos are never a good idea after eleven o'clock apparently). Perhaps I'm over-thinking this (more then likely)or possibly crazy. Thoughts?
 
 
Current Music: fake plastic trees - radiohead
 
 
22 August 2008 @ 01:38 am
 Please comment, I'd appreciate it!


The hope is despairing,
Like a goodbye that is forgotten,
Buried in the cinders and ashes of the lost,
Hidden and cold to our eyes
That are so aching with frost.
We alone cannot spy the terror,
Rising like a tattoo on our hearts,
The brittle fear a crescendo on our ears,
Letting loose a dark wave of sound
That we never want to hear.
 
 
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
 
 
21 August 2008 @ 02:37 am
So I figured I'd get things started... This is a section from a piece I've been playing with about people becoming obsessed with a sort of god complex...

... So if you really stop to think about it, this mercy killing thing seems all the more practical. A bit like saving the world one death at a time.

(for the whole shebang)
 
 
21 August 2008 @ 01:42 am

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4. Remember, as the writer it is ultimately your decision whether or whether not to use the advice given to you - it's still your work and therefore your vision. 
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