here i am.

Naiya soared through the air, wind hissing past her wings, her black scales gleaming in the sunlight. She let out a joyous roar. This is what she adored, being in the air. Becoming one with the wind, the clouds, the sun, and the sky, where she always had belonged. The dragoness dove into a flurry of fantastic twists and spins, breaking the clouds apart. Water began to collect on her scales, and as she left the clouds and her performance behind, it dripped off of her. Emerald eyes shone with hunger as they caught the sight of a herd of deer grazing.

Naiya folded her wings against her body and sped down toward them. The air whistled loudly, rattling against her ear drums. Just before she just hit the ground, she made a quick change of direction, sweeping up a doe in her talons as she did so. The deer squealed and kicked in protest against her claws. After losing momentum, she landed near the lake. The dragoness sunk her teeth into the doe's windpipe, then slammed her against the ground to break her spine and paralyze her. She gave herself a moment to catch her breath before she devoured the carcass.

Her belly full of food, Naiya sauntered over to the lake and took several long draughts of water. She lifted her head, droplets falling from her lips and hitting the surface, leaving cascading waves. I won't be able to do this much longer, she thought somberly, glancing over to her den nearby. Inside was a clutch of eggs she had laid a few weeks ago, and they were bound to hatch any day now. The dragoness was excited for her children, but she would miss being young and free...being part of the sky. She shook her head, clearing it of such thoughts. I will show my young the greatness of the sky. Settling down, Naiya began to groom herself.

She was interrupted by a roar. Looking up, Naiya saw that the roar announced the arrival of her mate, Tashrin. A brawny, proud red dragon, Tashrin contrasted well against Naiya's reserved personality. He was an adept hunter and warrior, who never failed to make a scene if it meant he got attention. The two had meant in battle, when their clans were at war. Tashrin had a broken wing, and Naiya had been scouting for dragons to heal. Though he wasn't of her clan, upon meeting him, Naiya healed and fed him. They met in secret for several months, but when light was shone on their affairs, the pair ran away from the territories and eloped.

Now their brood lay hidden in the den, a black egg and a red egg. They were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the hatchlings, but being on edge had sparked an argument. In an effort to save their relationship, they spent a few days apart, and now Tashrin returned to Naiya. He tried to hide his excitement to see her, but failed miserably. Naiya didn't mind. The two dragons embraced each other, which was difficult to do as dragons, but they managed by brushing their cheeks together and holding their chests against each other for a period of time.

"I missed you," Naiya said breathlessly, stepping back. "It was nice to be alone and shake off my nerves, but I missed you so."

Tashrin nodded. "I missed you as well, my love," he replied with a dry smile. "How are the eggs?" The red dragon folded his wings against his body and strode to the den, poking his head inside. As a male, he wasn't permitted to enter except in case of emergency. He sniffed the eggs, checking to make sure they hadn't rotted anywhere. They seemed healthy.

"They are doing well. I have been turning them often, but the shells are thinning and the little ones should arrive any moment," Naiya said softly, sitting down beside him. Tashrin turned to face her, a genuine look of content. His mate chuffed affectionately at him, and he lay beside her, wrapping her in a wing. She brushed his cheek with her own, locking her claws into his. "These are our children, above all," the dragoness whispered. "But know that they are also symbols of our love. For I would not allow any dragon to father my children."

Tashrin chortled, blowing a small puff of smoke at her. "I would not father any hatchlings but the hatchlings of Naiya MacCeilen of the Rain Clan." Naiya smiled, nestling her head into the crook where his head and shoulders met. She had left behind family and prosperity for this dragon, and it was still worth it. It would always be worth it.

As if on cue, one of the two eggs rolled over in the den. The red egg emitted a soft squeak, and both parents lifted their heads to watch. After a great deal of wiggling, a tiny hole appeared on the side of the egg, and the squeaks grew louder. A few minutes later, and the whole had widened into a large crack. With one last thrust, the hatchling broke through its shell. Naiya got to her feet and hurried into the den, careful about the black egg. She licked the newborn clean, then regurgitated some of her food for its first meal.

The little hatchling sniffed the half-digested meat, then took a tiny bit in its mouth. Realizing that it didn't taste all that bad, it ate a little more, and a little more, until eventually it was taking huge gulps of the food. The little red devoured the rest of its meal, then with a yawn, curled up against its mother's bosom.

"Is it a son or a daughter?" Tashrin inquired. Once again he tried to hide his excitement and concern about the new arrival, but he failed to do so. His voice was shaking.

Naiya chortled softly. "He is our new son," she announced, nuzzling the little one. "I had the urge to name him after you, but I have higher expectations than that." Tashrin appeared offended, but Naiya gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm only fooling around. He will be called Ares, dragon of the fight."

Tashrin nodded approvingly. "Seems rather fitting for the son of myself." He spread his wings and poked his head into the den, puffing a ring of smoke at his new son. The hatchling coughed and pawed playfully at his father's snout, squealing when Tashrin pushed him onto his back and nuzzled his belly. Naiya smiled at the two. She was a mother now...a mother. I can't believe it. Suddenly all of her doubts about parenthood had vanished. From this moment on, the dragoness knew she would defend this little one to the death if need be.

The sun dipped below the horizon, putting an end to a brilliant day. Both Naiya and Tashrin were reminded that love could come from even the darkest of circumstances. And that they were glad for.

dreams

Dear Annie,

You are my wish this Christmas. You were the only thing I wanted for Christmas. But sometimes there are two roads, and the one I want to take isn't the one you can follow me. You are beautiful and strong on your own, and you can go down any road without me.

That's what he said in my dream last night. It would make me infinitely happy to hear that from him in real life, but I'll settle for dreams if that's all I can get.

I'm doing this study.

I'm doing this study on what love is, and I can't really decide if it's a good thing or not. I mean, it's a burden, because when you love someone, knowing they're unhappy makes you unhappy, too. but at the same time, when you're both happy, it's the kind of happy you can't get from anything else. is it worth it? sometimes, no. sometimes you dig too deep a hole, and when it starts to rain, and you're trying to climb back up, to reach happiness again, you can't. your fingers slip. and you have to sit back, sit back and get rained on, maybe catch a cold. but once the rain is gone, you can climb out and walk away. and sometimes it is worth the pain. sometimes it's worth getting scratched as you crawl through the brambles and bruise yourself climbing back to love. because when you reach it, it's like nothing else. and even if you have trying times, you can always go back to love. and you can feel it again.

right now i'm trying to pull my way out of the muddy hole, and maybe i should stop. but i really want to feel your hand around mine.

hey, you.

yea you.

why can't i have you?

let go.

you hurt me.
you make me feel like nothing.
you bring tears to my eyes.

and you give me the smiles
the laughs
the memories.

you're beautiful
intelligent
incredible. so
amazing.

losing you
hurts more than you can ever
imagine.
but i didn't lose you.

perhaps the kisses and
the hugs are
gone.
i can't tell you
i love you
anymore.

but i have not lost
you.
you
are still there,
standing right in front of me.
and i don't care who you are in love
with.

because you are my best friend.
i love you, and right
now all that matters is that
you're happy.

because as long as you are happy, i am complete.

my thoughts and feelings at the moment.

I am utterly confused. I don't know what to feel, or if I can feel anymore. Is there any reason for me to feel? What is my point here on this planet, if not to love you? I'm not sure anymore. I'm not sure why I'm here.

I know what I want to do. I know how I should feel and that I should just forget you. You broke my heart and lied to me, why should I still love you? I should be working hard in school, drowning myself in my musical studies and making the best of the time I'm lucky to have with horses. I shouls be making the best of myself and preparing for my future, for the next forty, fifty years of my life.

And I am. I work hard, practice, keep my mind off of you. But I feel so empty. So pointless, and emotionless. Not that I don't love doing what I do, because I do, I most certainly love what I get to do, but I'm always tired. When I am alone, I feel sad. No, not grief-stricken or heartbroken or depressed. Just sad. That's the only thing I feel.

I think to myself, and wonder, "Why am I so sad? I have anything you could ever ask for right in front of me," and I realize, I'm not ungrateful. I don't take for granted the things I have, like food and a warm bed. I eat all of my food and sleep throught the night. I don't argue with my parents nearly as much as I used to. I'm not a brat.

The only reason I'm so sad is because I miss you. I miss your voice and your touch. I miss our laughter, our kisses in the creek. I miss your smell and holding you close when the sun set and the breeze got chilly. I miss it. I miss everything. But you don't. You're fine without me. And it kills me. It fucking kills me.

Why am I always on the short end of this? Why am I the one that has to sit around crying about you? Why don't you fucking care that I feel like I'm dying on the inside and you don't feel like you don't have to do anything about it? I know I'm not your girlfriend anymore, you shouldn't have to be there for me every minute of the day. But I thought I was your friend. I thought we were best friends.

Maybe that's it. Maybe that's why I am so sad. It's because you were my best friend. I can get over losing a boyfriend. That's not a huge deal to me. I can get over not being able to kiss you and hug you....eventually. But not being able to talk to you, or smile around you, or joke with you, it bothers me. You're supposed to be my best friend. Was I not yours? Was the friendship not mutual? I just don't get it at all. I miss you so much and you just brushed me off.

How the hell am I supposed to feel about that?

six billion

At this moment, there are six bllion, four hundred and seventy million, eight hundred and eighteen thousand, six hundred and seventy one people in the world. Some are running scared. Some are coming home. Some tell lies to make it through the day. Others are just not facing the truth. Some are evil men, at war with good. And some are good, struggling with evil. Six billion people in the world, six billion souls. And sometimes, all you need is one.

ohmygod.

i really should stop blogging about him but i just can't. i don't want to bother my friends with more heartbroken speeches but i can't keep all of these words i need to say inside. i was doing pretty well, being happy and not thinking about him, but then the fucking concert comes and he looks fucking gorgeous but all i could do was be fucking heartbroken about how he's not mine.

this is so much different from any other want. other things, i can want them, but it doesn't hurt that i can't have them, because i know if i just wait or if i just work hard to earn them, i can get them. i don't have this terrible, empty, sinking feeling that i get when i know something i really want is highly unlikely to happen.

and it sucks. it sucks so fucking bad and it pisses me the hell off that he doesn't even care what this is doing to me, doesn't even care that every time i close my eyes, every time i am alone in the quiet, my heart aches for him. maybe that should make me hate him, should make me disgusted and appalled with him. but it doesn't. it fucking doesn't.

all i can do is curse and cry and rant and dream about him. i feel so fucking helpless and alone and it's not fair. i know i'm not alone, i know i'm capable and the fact that i can't shake this feeling bothers me to no end. i want him back so bad and i can't have him, and i can't get over him. he's not all i think about, but when i see his face, whether in front of me or in my mind, i become so weak.

why couldn't we keep going? why can't i kiss and hug him? why can't i feel his hands wrapped around mine, his breath against my skin? why can't my soul do what it longs to, to intertwine with his? why doesn't he want me? why, why why...

i'm tired of fucking asking why. why i can't have you, why i'm not good enough, why these questions aren't ever answered. it's pointless now. to ask why. there's no reason, why ask if there is no answer provided? i'm starving though. dying for the answers to the questions that burn holes in my conscious.

and some answers, i don't want to know. i don't want to know the real reason you left me. i don't want to know if you like anyone. i need to stop wondering, because those answers are obvious and wouldn't bother me if i didn't know them instinctively. but i wish that they made me feel differently.

i wish these little things pissed me off. i wish they made me hate you and want to kick you in the balls. but they don't, they just make me want you more. god i'm so fucked up...i can't let go. i try but i just...can't. as soon as i manage to loosen my grip, my muscles tense again. it's not fair. i just want to be normal. and happy. but you filled a part of me that nothing else did.

please. i know you'll never read this but i miss and love you so immensely. if you asked for me again, i would say yes in a heartbeat.

that's what i thought...

you don't understand how much easier it would be for me if i could just hate you.

i want to. i wanna hate you so bad. you're stubborn and rude and a bit dim-witted at times but no matter how hard i try hating you seems impossible. you're still the same beautiful, funny, and sweet guy that i fell in love with two months ago. pffft, two months, it seems so pitiful, i know...but they were an incredible two months. and they really were, it wasn't some infatuation like any of my other relationships. it had depth and meaning and i was really glad i finally found something that made me feel invincible.

yea i know i should feel beautiful and intelligent all on my own and i do. i know what i'm capable of and i'll do anything to achieve it. regardless, i still feel this stupid empty place in my heart knowing that i cannot touch and kiss you like i want. i wish you felt it too. i wish at least you knew how i felt, how truly alone i feel. and perhaps it's just me, being a lonely person and whatnot.

and maybe it's not. maybe you really did complete me. maybe you really were the key to my happiness. maybe your quirky personality and snide remarks were what balanced out my composure. maybe being stupid and laughing and kissing was really all i needed to get out of my shell. i don't know, maybe not.

i still don't want to be without you. it's funny, i can repeat to myself a thousand times that you're being stupid and acting like a whore but i still want to hear your voice. i still want to feel your lips on my nose and your fingers intertwined with mine. i want stand on that bridge again, not alone but with your arms around my waist and the sun shining in my hair. your lips brushing mine, and the corners of our mouths upturned into faint smiles.

maybe not. maybe i'll just have to smile at the memories and move on. but i don't really know how.

fuck you

why.

why do you lie? why can't you just tell me the real reason you don't want me. you were just waiting to like her. you knew you wanted to, you wanted to like her so bad. she's pretty, she's smart, she's funny, and oh hot damn she's fucking ASIAN. throw her in the snow with a short skirt and long socks and you would choose her over me any day.

what hurts even fucking worse is that you know you're not going to get her. you know you don't have a chance in the world. but you threw me away anyway. thanks. that makes me feel beautiful and smart and everything that you said i was. but i'm not. i'm ugly, stupid, and not worth any guy's time. you got pissed at me whenever i said that but you proved me right.


fuck you.

How do I get over you when I don't even want to? Why can't I cry, when that's all I can do about you? I just want you back in my arms. I want to run my fingers through your hair and kiss you, to breathe in your smell and bury my face in your chest. I want to lay with you in the wet grass and smile against your kiss, to melt with you and never leave you. I want to look you in the eye and tell you I love you without being afraid of losing you.

I am half of what I could be. You're all I need to be complete.

Love

I know what it is now.

Love is the quiet giggles in class. Love is the little gifts we gave each other. Love is the six-hour phone calls and the texting in school. Love is the way you carry yourself, the way you laced your fingers through mine. Love is the kisses and the quiet embraces, in the golden gazes. Love is myriad of butterflies threatening to explode out of my chest when I'm with you. Love is all you are.

But love is the pain. Love is the nausea I felt when you ended us. Love is in every tear I ever cried over you. Love is the jealousy that kills me when I see you talking to anyone but me. Love is the devil whispering to me, saying there's an easier way out. Love is the sleepless nights I spend pining over you. Love is temptation to give up on everything but you.

Love is in everything I do, for everything I do is for you. Love is everything we were. Love is all I want, but I only seem to want it from you.

love don't run.

love don't hide.

Brom trudged through the aftermath of the battle, his combat books sinking into the blood-soaked soil. He snaked his way through the countless corpses, keeping tabs on all of the bodies that belonged to the Rebellion. The first rays of morning sun cast shadows across the flat battlefield, and glinted off the gilded pommel of Brom's sword. He gripped it tightly with his gloved hand and unsheathed it, preparing for any surprise attacks to slay him. The quality of his blade never ceased to awe him, though -- it was a sword of the finest make, composed of the strongest steel with a hilt carved intricately to mimic the appearance of rope. An exquisite ruby was welded into the pommel and refracted light in such a way that dappled his shadow like rhinestones.

"Brom!" He turned at the mention of his name, and was stunned by the presence of Alana, whom he had thought dead. Her pale, soft skin contrasted against his rough, dark hide as she embraced him. Her thin fingers laced themselves through his tangled hair and her soft lips met his in a kiss. Brom savored it for a moment before pulling away, and his hazel eyes met hers in a warning gaze. "How many have been counted dead?" Alana asked in a somber voice, emerald eyes suddenly distracted by the dirt.

"Many," Brom replied in a grim voice. He gazed out across the plain, watching as the surviving warriors piled up the bodies of the opposing side to burn. The morning was bittersweet; somber for the loss of so many treasured warriors, yet sweet victory never failed to shine. Despite the action of the previous day, all Brom longed to do was eat a hot meal, wash, and sleep in a bed for the first time in weeks. He had erased Alana from his mind, merely because if he hadn't, he wouldn't have survived war against the former king.

"Was my father amongst them?" Her grief-stricken voice stirred him deeply, and he looked into her eyes. They were wet with tears. He nodded curtly, then looked away as she began to weep. It pained him to hear her cries, and he didn't know why. How could he have stricken her from his conscious for so long, not thought of her once, and now find himself feeling like he bid her father's doom? Despite all his attempts to rationalize with himself, he turned to her and held her to his chest, even as she fought to pry herself away.

Eventually her protests died down, and she seemed to melt into Brom as her cries turned to stifled hiccups. He kissed her soft hair, like pale gold on his cracked lips. His limbs ached, his wounds screamed in pain, but above all, his heart longed to fill the empty hole left in Alana's heart by the death of her father. To erase her pain, to make her feel bliss and only that for the rest of her life.

And suddenly he felt weak, for not being able to do so. A feeling of pure contrition distorted his mind. If only he had stayed behind, not fought in the war like her father, and he could have been there to keep her from going mad with terror. If only he had chosen her over his pride, he would have never had to erase her from his thoughts. She could have been all he thought about in those weeks he spent enduring the dull throbs of sore muscles and the growling of an empty stomach.

Alana pushed away from Brom, leaving her slender hands on his chest. She met his eyes in a stern, yet somewhat desperate gaze, and her voice barely came out in a whisper. "I have waited so long for you, Brom Cromwell. Take me to your home and give me all of you." Brom clutched her side and brought her closer, and a gasp escaped her throat. He chuckled and kissed her neck, replying, "I have no home any longer, Alana."

"Then take me to water, cleanse me of my grief," she gasped again, gripping his muscled arm. "And make love to me." Brom suddenly felt succumbed with lust, but even more love, and he brought her lips against his, kissing her hard. He pulled free, then kissed her every finger, his eyes never leaving hers.

"It's all I've ever wanted to do, Alana," he laughed, sweeping her off of her feet. "So that is what I will do."

writer's block

brightly wound

when open my eyes, i'm still taken by surprise. i hold your face in my hands, stare into your eyes, melt into your kiss and fall away in your embrace. my heart goes thump, thump, thump...the only thing that reminds me that i'm still alive. i feel your breath on my neck and bury my face deeper in your chest. if only i had forever to love you, to lay here and love you. because if i did, that is all i would do.

but i do not. so for now, i keep you close, breathing in your smell and absorbing your heat. your skin on mine feels brilliant, almost otherworldly, and i press my lips against yours, ever so softly, and smile against the kiss as i feel your chest rumble with a chuckle. my hands bring you closer, ignoring the danger of being caught. i am yours, and you are mine.

but we do not have forever.

that moment when you realize you fucked this shit up.

my heart strings are falling apart again. i'm so weak, too weak for you, for anyone. i can't handle myself, i can't handle others. but i try. maybe because i think it's worth it, maybe because it seems easier with time, or maybe cuz i am just plain stupid. i believe it's the latter. regardless, i've dug my grip into clay; it's hardened around my fingers and i'm trapped. i thought i loved it, but it just hurts now every time i try to break free, the clay cracks and cuts my skin. i can't break free from this twisted love; i find myself imprisoned, and if i am hurt, i am stuck.

but i don't want to leave you, though.

granted.

that is what i feel like i am taken for.
all
the
time.

what a queen

she clasped her hands around the rope and gasped
gasped--
the words that might save her.
but they didn't save her --
she drowned in her ignorance as the
rope rubbed away her skin, leaving
bloody palms.
all she had to pick up
the mess with were her sore
bloody, palms.

she lifted shards of glass from the dirt,
strewn with dismembered body parts
and dented armor. and she cried
out
as a bloodied hand gripped her ankle
the voice gasped
"this is your own doing"

and she collapsed next to him,
buried her suddenly aged face in her palms
and wept.
wept for all the pain she had wrought
for all the blood she had drawn
for all the lives she had taken,
to save her own.

"how i have disappointed my people;
what people? i have no people.
i killed them all in my greed.
what a queen i have become."

Bright for Brown

and I kissed you with such passion, the dirt on my brow and the leaves and twigs ignited in a flame of love and bliss. nothing could Douse that Fire, not even the Rain that poured on us as the day aged; the Sun Shone on us and us Only, alighting the Clearing we found Peace within. Our eyes glowed bright for Brown, and our Lips pressed so closely, they melted together. your Hands found the small of my Back and you Brought me close -- i Laced my fingers through your Hair and Breathed in the Essence of you.

And my heart screamed with such joy, it burst out of my chest just to present itself to you.

"We can't do this much longer," she whispered.

Soft white hands caressing my face, blue eyes so big I could drown in them -- her voice, though hushed, fills my ears with its sweet tone, rich and thick with beauty. I clasp my hands over hers, drawing her closer and breathing in her presence. Her fawn hair falls in waves over my raspy, unshaven cheek. Her lips meet my own in a hasty kiss, but I delve in, our souls twisting and dancing in fantastical spins and leaps, like dancers on an unlit floor. She struggles to pull away, fighting against her own will to stay in my arms. "I can't," she gasps, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I must leave."

I release her hands for a moment, and she holds them over her tear-stained face, hiding herself, as if she should be ashamed of what I am seeing. I know what she'll say if I come closer; she will tell me to leave, to let her be. But I know that's not what she wants. So I bring her into my arms and rock her ever so slightly, kissing her hair and whispering poems into her ear. Her muffled sobs fade into my chest, and as the time passes they become tiny hiccups. I tip her chin up with a finger and smile lightly at her. "You should be going," I tell her, my own hazel eyes meeting hers. "But I didn't want our last memory to be one of us weeping." The corners of her perfect lips curve ever so slightly, and I know I have done what I wished to do. I kiss her nose, and she giggles.

She turns away slowly, and her smile fades into a sobered gaze as she watches me over her shoulder. At last I manage to tear my gaze from hers, and she looks ahead of her instead of behind. And then it pains me, I suddenly have lost my precious jewel. She is gone, and I know it as I watch her vanish into the mist. She and her white dress -- I will never see again. Her tiny, bare feet and the piece of rope tied around her ankle -- they will be gone forever. Hushed whispers and muffled laughs -- silenced. Soul-touching embraces and sweet kisses -- separated till death.

What I will do till then, that is what I do not know.

Smile, your face, your little hands, the way you think, your handwriting, your nose, and a bunch of other things that haven't come to mind yet.

Why the hell is there a silent k in your name?!

what i wouldn't do...

If we were children
I would bake you a mud pie
Warm n brown beneath the sun
Never learned to climb a tree
But I would try
Just to show you what I'd done

Oh, what I wouldn't do
If I had you, babe
I had you
Oh, what I wouldn't do
If I had you, babe

If I were old, my dearest
You woulld be older
But I would crawl upon your lap
Wrap a blanket 'round our frail little shoulders
And I'd die happily like that

Oh, what I wouldn't do
If I had you, babe
If I had you
Oh, what I wouldn't do
If I had you, babe
I had you

So laze your hands 'round the small of my back
And I will kiss you, like a king
I will be your bride
I'll keep you warm at night
I will sing, I will sing

It was now and we were both in the same place
I didn't know how to say the words
With my heart ticking
Like a bomb in a birdcage
I left before someone got hurt

Cuz it was, what I wouldn't do
I might, if I had you
It was, what I wouldn't do
When I had you, babe
When I had you


http://youtu.be/042teGeQ2dY

really excited.

haha ha this singing thing might work out.

i need money though.

fuck.

You'll be in my heart.

It's more than a little upsetting to see you so broken and confused.

Oh, how I used to loathe you...your stupid insults and your annoying voice. I really wanted you to die, if you weren't going to leave me only. But it's a little bit funny, how that's changed. Your absence seems to have washed away that hatred. Which I suppose is a good thing, holding grudges is rather draining.

You're the same person, but different. In this brilliant, mad way; very strange. I mean, you look the same; same hair, same eyes, same face. You're still a little bit off -- but somewhat wiser. Someone I actually want to be friends with. Which is why I repeat the first line. Anyway, I have to go.

It's time for tea.

i can't

write another post about how much i love you.

LOLOLOLOL

we were both young...

when i first saw you.

This is a letter you will probably never end up reading, and I will probably never show it to you because in a couple of months I'll laugh at how stupid it is or something.

But darling, I adore you. I love your laugh and your smile and your weird hands. I don't really like my neck being poked at, but there's not too many things you can do that would make me not smile. I love it when I come home and your smell still lingers on my shirt, reminding me of you. I love how I can be breaking out and wear no makeup whatsoever, and you can still bear the sight of me and manage to tell me I'm beautiful.

It's kind of ridiculous. I've dated you for three weeks but I've been in love with you for three months. You were my best friend when my life fell flat and you listened to me mope and groan even though I'm probably the most boring person ever when I get upset. And it probably didn't seem like much to you, just some texts and a shared laugh, but it meant more than the world to me.

To have someone there whenever I needed them. To be able to have a best friend and not have anything get in the way. No boys, no girls, not drugs, no cities could come between us. I don't know if it was you or I who felt it first. But damn, how I felt it when I did. I fell in love with you, and I'm pretty sure I love you. You better love me back, fatty :3

I really don't understand how I got so lucky.

My Own Lion King.

I watched the Lion King in the movie theatre tonight. I've seen it like thirty times, but I paid thirty dollars to watch it in 3D. Whatever. It never meant more than a lion winning back his pride before last year, but seeing it again brings not only nostalgia, but also a new wave of enlightenment.

Last summer...I don't need to describe last summer. It was fine. It was like the opening to Lion King. I was Simba, exploring a new facet of life (infatuation/love for myself, actually). I was like a little cub in the savannah, learning about things I had never known before. It was brilliant. I wasn't introduced to Scar until around September.

My first true heartbreak was a great loss. It was perhaps the death of Mufasa. It brought me great pain, and my depression only worsened it. Scar only told me to run away from what I was denying. And so I did. I ran away, from my past. I didn't want to remember what I had lost.

And then there were friends there. Good friends, that didn't question my past and helped me forget about what had happened. Timon and Pumbaa. They showed me new things, things that distracted me from Scar. But he lurked there, always causing trouble. My depression was influencing those I loved, and I was ignoring it.

But then Nala came along. She...er, he, in this case. She(he) brought me great joy, sincere joy, that wasn't distracting but very needed. Despite my protests, she(he) shoved the truth in my face, and when I failed to cooperate, grew angry at me.

My favorite part. Here is the lovely Rafiki. I've met him before, he troubled me. Only confused me, with his strange antics and ways of going about things. But now he came, and spoke to me, and this time it was different. He directed me to enlightenment. Perhaps not deliberately, but he showed my Mufasa. Love spoke to me.

Remember who you are.

And I suddenly did. I remembered happiness, I remembered the sweet taste of joy. And now I longed for it with a passion so deep I could not resist. And I ran, I ran to Scar. I ran to confront what had been troubling me for so many months. I didn't care the battle scars I would possibly gain, I wanted him gone. No longer would he trouble my loved ones.

I fought him. I fought him. I fought him with all of my might. I fought him for all the damage he had done. I fought him for all the pain he had caused. And at first, I was reluctant to kill him. I told him Leave, and never return. But that would never be. So I slayed him. I rid myself of Scar. Of my depression.

And so I began anew, with Nala(:3), Timon, Pumbaa, Rafiki...my eyes are clean and now that Scar is gone, there is no one to bid the Pridelands doom. I reside on Pride Rock with joy. For Mother, I am not dead and you will never have to see me running from Scar again.

Here's to you.

I love you. I love your smile. I love your laugh, the way you walk, the way every time I see you my day becomes a million times better. I love how I can be having the worst day and the mere mention of your name makes me feel happy. I love how when I tell people that I'm dating you, I feel like I'm telling them I have a million dollars, but you're worth so much more than that. I love your nose and you quirky sense of humor. I love your YuGiOh! deck and your tennis shorts. I love how you can manage to make me feel beautiful when I'm really not. I love you.

I love you so much.

/:

wanna know how he played you? once you fell in love with him, it was simple. he gave you what you wanted when you were around him, but flirted with other girls to make you jealous, therefore making him feel like a badass or something. then when you accused him of anything, he made you feel like a fucking bitch even though you WEREN'T being one. he treated you like a fucking puppy dog and you LET him. and if you plan on getting back together with him, i worry for you.

How does this go again?

Haven't done this in a while
Gonna be a little rough this time
I was hoping not, but it appears so
But this time I'm not breaking.

Can't let you see me weak
That's not me.
Can't let you take care of me
I don't need maintenance, I'm no sport car.

My heart's wide open for you
Come in and bask in this sea
Sea of love.
Drown me in it.

If you leave
Don't forget me.
But for now, please
Stay, cause I need someone to catch me

when i fall.

a whole new world

a hundred miles of things to see.

my eyes are clean.

be prepared...

I know that your powers of retention
Are as wet as a warthog's backside
But thick as you are, pay attention
My words are a matter of pride

It's clear from your vacant expressions
The lights are not all on upstairs
But we're talking kings and successions
Even you can't be caught unawares

So prepare for a chance of a lifetime
Be prepared for sensational news
A shining new era
Is tiptoeing nearer

And where do we feature?

Just listen to teacher
I know it sounds sordid
But you'll be rewarded
When at last I am given my dues!
And injustice deliciously squared
Be prepared!

Yeah! Be prepared. We'll be prepared! For what?

For the death of the king

Is he sick?

No, fool! We're going to kill him. And Simba, too

Great idea! Who needs a king?

No king, no king! La la la la la!

Idiots! There will be a king!

But you said...

I will be king! Stick with me and you'll never go hungry again!

Yay, all right! Long live the king!
Long live the king!

It's great that we'll soon be connected
With a king who'll be all-time adored

Of course, quid pro quo, you're expected
To take certain duties on board
The future is littered with prizes
And though I'm the main addressee
The point that I must emphasize is
You won't get a sniff without me!

So prepare for the coup of the century
Be prepared for the murkiest scam  Oooooo, la-la-la!
Meticulous planning    We'll have food!
Tenacity spanning    Lots of food
Decades of denial    We repeat
Is simply why I'll    Endless meat
Be king undisputed
Respected, saluted
And seen for the wonder I am
Yes, my teeth and ambitions are bared
Be prepared!

Yes, our teeth and ambitions are bared -
Be prepared!

i wish you knew

just how badly i was trying to protect you.

Well well well

it's nice to be happy again.

horse
i am
looking forward to
you

WBC Journalism Project

Here.
Cheeck it ouuut.

names

fake
bitch
whore

i've been these, called

ugly
loser
slut

these, too

wannabe
nerd
ugly duckling

oh, so familiar

but
i
don't
like it.

this isn't

me.

i'm sorry
i'm not all of these
things
you call me.
maybe want me

to be.

but i am me
and that is

beautiful.

Hello.

Hi. My name is, well I don't think you really care. I am the girl you laugh at. I am the girl you talk shit about. I am the girl who deals with you calling her pizza-face, nerd, boobs. I am the girl you say to her face that you hate her. I am the girl who tries so hard and is only rewarded with hatred.

And I am the girl who has it much better than all the others. I am the girl who luckily escapes the torment of gossip, of sabotage, and physical abuse. I am the girl who only suffers mentally, the girl who tortures herself more than others torture her. I am the girl who just lets others get to her.

But you are the people who abuse. You are the people I call 'friends', and you act nothing of a friend. You are the people who act nice, yet avoid me as much as possible. You are the people who deceive me and hurt me and feel you can get away with it. You are the people who make me want to kill myself. You are all to blame.

Who cares, though? You are the people who do not.

show me your teeth.

i'm sure they're beautifuul <3

Thank you.

For reminding me no one will ever love me. For reminding me you're waaay out of my league and I'm just an annoying, ugly little prick. Thank you for reminding me that I am worth nothing and I should just stop trying to be loved by someone like you because no one as good as you or him or him will ever love me.

Thank you for bringing my hopes up and making me think I was beautiful then crushing them like a bug. Thank you for doing what every. other. guy. did. Thank you for being a fake, a liar, a dick. I sure appreciate that.

No, I don't. Because I am fucking used to it. And I'm fucking tired of it. Thank you, for reminding me, that boys.

are.

stupid.


go back to fucking jupiter.

LOVE HOW EVERYONE'S BULLSHITTIN ME

great.

A woman is often measured

by the things she cannot control. She is measured by the way her body curves or doesn't curve, by where she is flat or straight or round. She is measured by 36-24-36 and inches and ages and numbers, by all the outside things that don't ever add up to who she is on the inside. And so if a woman is to be measured, let her be measured by the things she can control, by who she is and who she is trying to become. Because as every woman knows, measurements are statistics. And statistics LIE.

perfect.

for you, my darling,
i must be

perfect.
i must be

everything.

i am not sated
until i complete

you.
i cannot smile

without your smile.

darling i adore you

darling you fill me with joy.

i only hope i provide

the same

for you.

you are the reoccuring kind.

you never really leave my mind.

Movie Scores

Remember back to when you were young. Sitting in the plush movie seats, tasting the buttered popcorn on your tongue, the moving pictures enrapturing you. But the one thing that never leaves your brain is the one thing that brings life to the movie. The music.

I recently created a new station on Pandora with some of my favorite movie composers. The whole idea of Pandora is to introduce you to new music, but music that is similar to the music you already listen to. A brilliant idea, in my opinion. I tend to overuse it. But it has introduced me to incredible composers and the music is just indescribable. I truly love music.

Though unfortunately I have a hard time making it. For the longest time I yearned to play an instrument well, but no matter how much I practiced it just never 'clicked'. I can sing rather well, in my honest opinion, but I can't write music. And I can't express myself knowing, 'I didn't write this'.

The one thing, though, that I can always turn to to vent in, is my writing. I love writing. I don't think of it as telling a story. I think of it as weaving a picture in the reader's mind with my choice of vocabulary, my syntax, my tone. I've developed so much over the years in my writing it is rather unbelievable. But I truly do pride myself in my writing.

(And how does this tie back to movie scores? Oh don't worry, I've got that covered. Just hold on.)

You may wonder what inspires me. Some writers get their inspiration from society, from nature, from inside of themselves. But the ink in my pen is music. And that is what I wish to create. A story as smooth and beautiful as music. Something that sticks in your mind forever.

I told you I would tie it back.

Go on with bravery and love.

It's quite lovely, actually

how I dream of you. I never miss a beat. The spirit of you swells inside of me, devouring my heart and pulling me down, down, into your love. And your hands are like the pianist's fingers upon the keys, the way you draw the music from my soul. And I beg you to play me, to wear down my keys.

But you've let me grow dusty. You never even bothered to draw the cover over my keys. I'm left in this small room, my only friends, the moon and the sun that glint off of my ebony shell. These friends, though loyal, fail to play me as you do. And I desire your skill.

Unfortunately, my lovely, you've taken up the violin.

poems poems poems

lovely
dainty
woman.
so fair
and so divine.
rip away the binds to my heart
the man that was rightfully mine.

though your skin is that of creme
and your eyes glow so green,
your beauty has wreaked havoc
upon my naive
innocent
life.

my brain is pounding
an alarm is sounding
to shove you out right now.
but if i did,
would he think to rid
of young tiny me?

so i draw the curtains closed
and my heart has been enclosed
in his palm.

and it stays,
all my days,
until he bids me doom.

talent?

i think yes :)

Marvelous Things

are your eyes
your hands
your freckles.

your hair
your voice
your intellect.

and i love you.
i love you.
i wish i didn't darling.

because it's not returned
never returned.
unfortunate.

quite unfortunate
this love.
so feigned.

but tell me
when we can runaway
together.

because i'm ready
i'll be waiting.
the answer is always yes.

it never changes
my love.
it will always be


yes.

Don't fucking try it.

Hurt him and I'll kill you. I don't fucking care that I could be hurt. I don't care. You've hurt me before. I can deal with your shit.

But not if it means he wants to die, because of you. That's not gonna fly, babe. So go cry and cut yourself over someone else, 'cause if you try to go near him again, I'll kill you. He's my best friend and my brother and he doesn't need to deal with your bullshit.

And if you're gonna get high to escape your problems, you need help. Especially if you're going around kissing my crushes. It's not cool, you're a fake, a wannabe. So I can't wait until you move.

It'll be like the cancer is in full remission.


Go on with bravery and love.

WhatEVER.

You lie.

It's not that I don't like you, it's just I don't want you around.

Yea, yea. That's what I think everyone wants to say to me.

I love you, Brother.

Crazy how the person who shattered my heart into a million pieces and sent me into a spiraling depression is the one who I call Brother. At least, now, I guess. He went from friend, to lover, to ex, to friend, to best friend, and finally to brother. And I'm hoping this time he'll stay for good.

Because I do love him. He means a lot to me, and we've seen a lot together. We've learned from each other. We pick each other up when we're down. We laugh. We cry. We've fought. And maybe I sometimes wish we were together again, but it's just me hating being single. If I had to choose between having him as a boyfriend for a short spell or having him as a brother forever, it would definitely be the latter.

I don't really know what I'd do without him. He's my voice of reason. My upper. My best friend. My better.

My brother.


Go on with bravery and love.

20 things that annoy me? This should be easy.

1} Bad grammar.
2} Stupid people.
3} Animal cruelty.
4} Last names that are impossible to pronounce.
5} Disney.
6} Songs that repeat the same line over and over.
7} Twitards.
8} PETA.
9} People who think they're good at everything.
10} Violence.
11} Bugs.
12} Bad actors.
13} Followers.
14} Girls who like my sloppy seconds.
15} Boys who say one thing and do the complete opposite.
16} Myself, often.
17} Teachers who think they know everything.
18} People who are afraid of diversity.
19} When I make mistakes.
20} The lack of love in this world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'll write it later.

I just really want

someone that will touch me.

I don't mean anything inappropriate, well, not at the moment. But I just need someone to touch me. To make me feel like I matter. I know I do, but I want to feel it. A hug. A kiss. Anything. I want to feel.

I haven't felt. I haven't felt in forever. I need to feel. I'll do whatever it takes to feel, because if I don't I'm not really sure what I'll do. And I know if I fall in love again, I'll come crashing down. I don't know if I could handle the pain. But the fall.

The fall is so damn sweet.

Dear Brother,

Times change, as they say. And brother, we've certainly seen our share of change, haven't we? Lucky for me, you've been a constant in my life. These past months, you've been a steady source of friendship, support, and laughter...and although I might not say it enough, that means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.

And that will never change.

Annie

Go on with bravery and love.

You know what's crazy?

I looked in the mirror today and thought I was pretty.

List 10 things you usually do on a rainy day. Pick one from your list and freewrite for 5 minutes.

1} Listen to music.
2} Write letters.
3} Sleep.
4} Watch TV.
5} Make lists(like so)
6} Talk on the phone.
7} Eat more than I should.
8} Take a bath.
9} Go insane, throw some glitter,
10} Make it rain.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My pale fingers lightly danced across the numbers. I lifted the phone to my ear and listened to what seemed like hours of ringing. At last I heard the voice I had been longing to hear for weeks.

"Hello?"
"Hey, Ben," I said, half whispering because I wasn't supposed to be awake.
"Hey Annie. What's up?" Ben replied, rather loudly.
"Nothing much," I answered. "Breaking curfew."
There was an awkward silence. I didn't understand why until I realized that he couldn't have seen the air quotes I made.
"Okay..." Ben mumbled, then brightened. "How was your rainy day?"
"Pretty good, I guess. Listened to music and slept."
"Good deal. What music?"
"Goo Goo Dolls," I replied.
"Beast," he half laughed. "I like them. What's your favorite song by them?"
"Iris."
"Iris is cool. I like Name, too," he added.

Our conversation dragged out for hours, dipping in and out of deep subjects, occasionally cracking stupid jokes, and at about four in the morning, he yawned. I did the same. I didn't want to hang up.

"I..." I mumbled.
"Goodnight Annie," Ben said warmly.
"Ah, goodnight," I replied.

I slept well that night.

Thank you.

For being there.
Even though
I screwed up.
Even though
it would be easier to ignore me.

Thanks for
coming back
after you left.

Thanks for
making me smile
and laugh
and realize
life's too short to waste on crank and alcohol
without even saying it.

Thanks for
not giving up on me
when you know you should.

Thanks for
telling me I'm beautiful.
And actually making me believe it.

Thanks for
telling me not to screw up my life.

Thanks for
not letting me grow up alone.
Loving me.
And being a good brother.

Thanks for everything.

Stop lying.

Stop it.

Hmph!

I'm pretty confused right about now. I thought you hated me. I believed you hated me. And to get over you, I ignored you. I hated you. But you're back.

I was head-over-heels in love with you when you left me. I waited and waited for you. I didn't want to let go. But I had to. There comes a time when my fingers fumble, grown weak from gripping so tightly onto you. I gave up.

And now you're back, expecting me to pick up the pieces and love you again. But I can't. Not yet. Last time you said you were coming back, you left me again, for one of my friends. It pissed me off. And you'll probably do it again. Since you're convinced that I'm in love with Travis.

I want to try again, I really do. The only question is: have you learned?

Try to use all of the words in a story: plastic bottle, hockey puck, dirty handkerchief, crumpled note, unhinged door.

My fingers fumbled over the crumpled note.

I unfolded it and smoothed it out as much as I could. I gulped and my eyes danced along the graceful writing on the page. The words became a blur as tears welled in my eyes. A single tear fell from my face and stained the page. I brushed away the tears and carefully folded the note. Not today, I thought. Not today, I won't cry.

The dirty handkerchief still lay on the table. I didn't want to move it. What if he came back, and asked where his handkerchief was? I didn't want to toss his lucky handkerchief. I didn't even want to lay a finger on it. Every time I touched something that belonged to him, a sick feeling washed over me. I felt like I was being called to the very depths of hell.

You should pick this up...my brain nagged. But when I tried to touch anything, my heart ached. I didn't want to throw him away. What would happen if I did? What if I forgot about him? I balled a fist and punched the wall, quickly yanking my hand back and pressing into my sore knuckles. Dammit.

"He's not coming back," I murmured, gazing at the dirty, tiled floor. I lifted my hand and cautiously picked up the plastic bottle he used to take in his lunches. Shaking, I carried it to the trash bag and tossed it. I quickly swept the handkerchief in the bag as well, my heart aching, my stomach churning, my eyes burning with tears.

That night, I walked down the hall of my house and let my eyes peer longingly at the room he used to slumber in. His room had no door; after we moved in together, we had always planned to put this bright green door with rather intricate designs in. But it was too big for the doorway, and we'd never bothered to fix it. We'd left the unhinged door leaning against the foot of his bed.

I silently slipped into his room and curled up in his soft sheets. I curled my fingers around the loose end of the pillowcase and breathed in his scent. The tears dried as I buried my face in his pillow. I slipped in and out of consciousness several times, but at last I sat up and gazed in the mirror.

It was as if he was sitting on the bed next to me, reading. Like we always used to. Sit on his bed and read. I miss those days. We were so alive. So young, so passionate. Nothing mattered but each other.

But then he died.

Go on with bravery and love.

A boy without a name.

i loved him

Don't think you can fool me.

You don't love me.

You never did. You never will. You just wanted my affection, because there's an empty part of your you're too lazy to fill. Don't come crying to me when she realizes she's stupid to love you. I said I'd always be there for you when you need me, but you don't need me now. You've got to grow up yourself. I'm not your tool.

As long as there's a roof on your head, clothes on your back, and food in your fridge, you're fine. I don't care if everyone hates you. You're alive. Stop complaining about how much it sucks that your parents are divorced and you don't understand girls. Take a minute to think mine bicker all the ****ing time and they refuse to split. Think about how I always give my all to the guys I love and they shatter my heart into pieces.

Like you did. Like you always will. And it's stupid, I fall for it every time. But it feels so good, the fall, and when the pain hits, when I crash and crumple into the ground, all I search for is the fall, to forget all of the pain. Don't use me.

I'm stupid to love you.

Go on with bravery and love.

Why would a speaker be afraid of cats?

"When I was young boy, my pet cat was one of the most important things in my life," Nikk spoke confidently. "She was amazing. She was the only thing that never changed. When she died, my heart was shattered into a million pieces. I didn't know how I'd go on."

The crowd sighed in sympathy. Nikk nodded, and continued. "But speaking has provided me with newfound confidence. It's what makes me feel like I can go on. It makes me the happiest man alive." He grinned widely as the crowd applauded.

Out of the blue, a rotted, undead cat came toppling down on Nikk. It mewed lovingly, then grinned a toothless smile. Nikk gaped at the cat, and heartbroken, the cat sunk it's mouth into his arm. It burned like fire.

Nikk tossed the cat into the crowd and people scattered like shards of glass. The cat disinegrated into the concrete, leaving the speaker panting and baffled. To this day, Nikk despises cats, and refuses to speak at any animal shelter with cats.

Kittens are alright through.

Go on with bravery and love.

Electricity is a recent discovery. Think of 12 things to do when there's no power.

1} Light a candle and make mini smores.
2} Turn on the battery-powered radio to Kiss FM, then turn on some flash lights and flicker them on/off, flash them back and forth, etc, and have a rave.
3} The classic: tell scary stories!
4} Make up your own classic radio show and run through episodes until the power comes back on.
5} Run around poking people.
6} Leave people in your area creepy voicemails.
7} Make weird sounds to freak people out.
8} Try to navigate the messiest room in your house.
9} Play the guessing game.
10} TP the living room with your eyes closed.
11} Act like a ghost.
12} Make a list of what you'll do when the power comes back on.

Maybe...

This is not hardly related to music at all, but I'll try to tie it into a cover or something somehow.

This is my motto for love: everyone leaves. No one will stay, despite their promises. They will die, they will fall for someone else, they'll take what they what from you and run. Any excuse to leave, they will take. So expect nothing from anyone. Do not try. It's never worth it.

But the only problem with this is that I want to try. I don't want to give up. I always have a spark of hope in me that maybe, just maybe it will work. Maybe we can try again. Maybe we'll have a happily ever after. I have my whole life to fall in love, they say, but I don't want to spend a single second out of it.

Don't give up. Someone will stay. They won't die, they won't fall for someone else, they won't steal something special from you and run. They will love you and they will prove it. Maybe.

Go on with bravery and love.

Me?

Welcome to this blog of blogginess. My name is Annie Kittrell. I'm thirteen years old. I sing, drum, and I'm learning ukulele. My favorite color is [green], food is [anything with cheese, really], animal is [peguin, maybe owl], and band/artist [changes all the time, good luck singling out one!]. I live in Texas. I am Italian/American. I was born in New York and I love music and fashion. Philanthropy is also a passion of mine.

I set up this blog so people can see what it's really like being a musician, not even a famous one at that. My goal is upload a song at least once a week, and blog every other day. I hope anyone who stumbles across this little diary of mine is amused :)