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this eternity
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Sep. 4th, 2010 @ 03:48 am Smoke
Susan pounded on the door, not sure what else to do. All she knew was that she couldn't stay with her boyfriend anymore, he was her ex now. He had broken up with her that morning and was helping his new girlfriend get settled. All of Susan's belongings had been piled in a corner of the one bed room apartment's living room.There wasn't much there, just a small stack of clothes, her dated computer and an old pot.
Susan knew she couldn't stay the night with her ex and his new girl. She didn't even take her things, just ran to her best friend Joan's place. Joan opened the door after less than a minute, and invited Susan into her studio. The smell of fresh baked cookies permeated the air. Joan took one look at Susan and pulled her in close for a hug. This unleashed a tidal wave of tears.
Joan's voice was weak but she told Susan, "When you cry upon my shoulder, your tears are mine."
Susan began to feel better very shortly. It only took her a week to get the lease transfered to the new girl and find a new a place she could move into. During the mean she just crashed with Joan.
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solitare
Apr. 21st, 2010 @ 05:11 am Smoke
The loud screech of her alarm was masquerading as dragon in her dream, just before she reluctantly opened her eyes in the empty room. As comfortable and safe as she felt, the awareness of it's fragility hung in her mind. Sarah looked in the mirror telling herself that she would keep it though. She would work her eight or ten or sometimes even twenty hours days to keep it. Brew some coffee, cook breakfast, dress, chug the coffee and out the door in less than 30 minutes. Just another morning.
Catch a bus, just to get somewhere no one wanted to be, to do something that she wasn't great but could get paid for. Cleaning, she was another one of those house keeper by day, computer science student by night. When she was at work her mind was almost never on what she was doing unless she was trying to come up with algorithm to do it for her. If she could get the right parts she could build a robot to her job fairly easily, but that was expensive. When she tried to talk to the people she worked with, they often looked at her like she was speaking Martian, and they barely spoke english.
At lunch she sat and read through the papers she had been given for homework the night before, and while vacuuming start thinking about the actual implementation or design. That allowed her to waste far less time when she finally got to sit down and start working. Most of the time she knew exactly what she was going to write before she even sat down.
Hop another bus to school, walk into the computer to type out the code and debug it. Of course the moment she walked in the door there was often a cheer, she could never tell if it was because all the guys found her overly attractive or actually needed her help. Some the mistakes they made drove her crazy. Seriously how many times could someone honestly forget to declare the type of a variable. They weren't using python. It was a good thing it only took Sarah half the hour she had before class to get her homework done, because everyone in the room seemed to need her help. All of them seem to want to take her out.
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solitare
Oct. 19th, 2009 @ 02:53 am Smoke
Lost and AloneCollapse )
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solitare
Feb. 28th, 2009 @ 04:44 am Beginnings
the end of the worldCollapse )
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solitare
Jan. 18th, 2009 @ 05:19 pm Atlantis Part 1
3000 years agoCollapse )
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solitare
May. 12th, 2007 @ 04:05 pm fears
This flame is: scaredafraid
Getting the Edge BackCollapse )
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solitare
Apr. 30th, 2007 @ 04:10 am Proof - A True story
This flame is: scaredafraid
Everyone was playing in the pool. It seemed pretty dull till they found the bricks the lifeguards used to test themselves. Some of the little girls were flirting with the lifeguards, no one was over the age of eight. A group of children kept trying to bring them up from deeper and deeper parts of the pool. A few were able to bring up the five pound brick from the deepest part of the pool. For a while they were racing to the surface with them. One little girl didn't think that was enough of a challenge, so she dropped both bricks into the deepest part of the pool. She waited on the edge of the pool for the bricks to hit the bottom. Most of the other kids tried to catch the brick before they got half way down. She swan all the way to the bottom till her ears popped. Picking up the bricks wasn't too hard. When she swam up with one she could still use her arms, but not with both. Kicking off the bottom of the pool even with one brick still brought her to the surface with almost no effort, not so with two. She almost started sinking again, but she kicked, hard. The water that normally supported her, was suddenly her enemy. She kicked, not knowing how far it was, feeling like she should have reached the surface minutes ago. She kicked wondering if she would make, if anyone in the world cared. She kicked wishing for someone to help her. She kicked determined to live, though her lungs burned. She kicked past the feet of the other children to finally break the surface of the water, on her own. The lifeguard had knelt at the edge of the pool, and it seemed the others had been cheering her on, but the water muffled their cheers. Everyone had been scared, but she was glad she could do it on her own. Alone adrenaline rushed through her system.
It marked her for life. Alone, ignoring cheers, and caution signs, sometimes a person needs to prove something, not to the world, not to gods to themselves.
About this Entry
hanging
Feb. 28th, 2006 @ 10:53 pm Fehu
This flame is: pessimisticpessimistic
Current Music: Revelution -Judas Priest
"Be careful, Tym you know there are bandits out there," she called as he turned back to see his mothers face and wave one last time, before heading up the mountain side to see Hagen the hermit. It was a fairly short walk, and today was the day Hagen was going to put him through the trials. Looking at his shadow he knew the sun hadn't even shifted a single degree when he reached the cave. Hagen was sitting on a rock in front of his cave, a long tendril of smoke drifted out the long thin pipe that rested between his ancient lips, he seemed lost in sleep or thought.
But just as Tym was about to announce his presence Hagan snapped, "How many times I have too tell you not to hesitate boy?" He glanced up at the boy expectantly and noticed the dark that formed under his eyes. Good he thought, the visions will come quickly enough on their own.
Tym quickly pulled off his pack withdrew the five books, each one was nearly three inches thick, and handed them to the old man. "I've already made my copies and buried them." He informed his teacher before the man could ask him.
"Good, good my boy. Now," the old man pulled a small leather pouch from behind his back and opened it. Tym's fingers found a small stone and held it in front of his tightly shuteyes. He knew what was coming; he knew would look at the rune and run up the mountain with it until it spoke to him. Most of the time the rune warned the new adult of dangers coming their way, sometimes the dangers even warned of something that affect the whole community. When the old man's eyes drifted over the stone he knowledge of what was coming brought a frown to his ancient face.
Tym knew his role too well for it too be changed now. His feet carried him till the mountain air became too clear to deliver enough oxygen to his body. Staring at the stone he fell into a deep meditation.

Fehu-possessions-ownership.
The air became so clear it ceased to be, the rite no longer matter, time ceased to be. Possessions are things that can be lost, things that cause envy. As a thing that can grant status only by taking it from someone else, possessions are inherently destructive. Throughout time the possession of belief has cause men who were best friends in childhood to kill each other. Yet almost all people seemed to want more. These things were the seeds of war. People are changed by their possessions. And while they would normally resist such a change, were it to come from any other source, they continually seek out more possessions.

Tym understood and opened his eyes slowly ready to impart the fresh wisdom he achieved. Standing up to savor the view of his village, he saw a dark cloud hanging over his home. An ominous feeling asserted itself in his stomach, as he told himself it was just a highly localize storm. Till he reached the ancient mentor's cave where he found Hagen collapsed in softening dirt. Tym flew toward the man hoping that a little life remained in the frail form. "Hagen," Tym pleaded more with some higher power then the dying mentor in his arms, but the non the less the eyelids thick with age and time grown short floated up as if called by a magic spell.
"Tym, what have you learned," Hagen's voice was almost too soft to hear and they may be the last words he spoke aloud but Tym heard him as clearly as if he screamed from the mountain tops.
"Possession have the potential to make our lives much easier but also more dangerous." Tym wasn't going to waste this great tutors last statement or waste arguing how these words should be spent.
"Then you are a man, go impart your wisdom to the world." Hagen christened him, normally that meant it was time for the initiate to work on his or her book, but this time they were much more literal. Hagen's head fell back and his eyes stopped seeing. Tym carried him to the place he buried his copies of the books knowing this was why he buried them. Underground they were safe from the fire. He quickly cleared a spot in the whole big enough for the surprisingly light old, by placing the carefully bound volumes in his bag, before tucking Hagen in with earth. And he said after burying the books now he repeated, "Soil black nurture this seed of knowledge and protect it, that it may bear future fruit in time of famine." Looking at the charred smoldering remains of his once prosperous village he realized the rune was right and it was time to do as Hagen told him and leave the ghostly fire pit.
He walked till the sunset and then decided there was no safe haven he could retreat to like the fading light, so he might as well walk till the sun came up. But when the moon reached its zenith he glanced over his shoulder one more time to see how far he'd come. The could over the town was just a speck on the horizon seeming very insignificant especially compared to three men right behind him.
The one who seemed to be the leader smiled clearing his throat, “now that we have your attention, what's in the bag?”
“Just some books, take them if you want them.” He would have been a fool to start ignoring rune now.
“I will.” The leader took the bag off his shoulder and the man on his left roughly pushed Tym out of the way, causing Tym to loose his balance and fall into the ditch. He wasn't hurt but he could seem to convince his body that it wanted to move before he passed out. After all he had been up for a whole week.

A woman cloaked in white descended through the treetops, the most beautiful music seemed to cling to cling to her. “Hello, Tym you've been through much you don't deserve. Take this and play with me. Remember the poems.” She drew a small lyre from the folds of her robe and handed it to Tym.
“But I don't...”
“Shhh,” she silenced his protest, “I'll show you.” Tym broke several strings but the lady's barest touch seemed to repair it.
After a time Tym heard the most beautiful emanating all around, Tym was just about to ask the lady about it when he realized she had faded.

The last rays of the sun drifted lazily over Tym, as he sat up with a jolt and the memories of the past 'day' explained why he was napping in a gutter. Looking around he notice small lyre lying near his hand. Memories of his dream flooded through him when he touched it. He picked it up and tested his skill, none had faded from the dream, he knew that it was a gift from the world. The road called to him to resumed his sojourn.
The night passed without event and the day followed suit and the next night and next day. Day and night began passing so quickly the lone traveler lost track how many had passed. He began to wonder at the road he was on and how much time had passed since it had seen use. A few scattered trees stood near the center, but the road was wide enough that it would take a long time for it to be completely grown over. Tym wondered what army trampled it and how long ago.
About this Entry
boom
Jan. 17th, 2006 @ 09:10 pm tunnels and trains
This flame is: hopefulhopeful
Read more...Collapse )
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solitare
Nov. 1st, 2005 @ 02:28 am Smoke
This flame is: anxiousanxious
Current Music: The shins
The wings were forever scarred, stained black by soot as the legions burned their faith. Flight was stripped of the dark wings, at least for this moment. Time regained meaning as the angel woke up, after being banished forever from the skies for loving man too much. Banished for trusting mankind to return even with knowledge of the great plans, the angel couldn't fall futher then that stream-bed. Soot formed small black veins as it rushed from the charred remains of useless wings that only brought the painful memory of being forsaken.
Without faith an angel is nothing, it shouldn't exist, so this being should have been only dust. With wings stripped of feathers, the being was practically chained to the ground. A little kid ran toward the stream that was perfect for playing.
"What are you doing mister?" the youth's bright blue eyes search the lost guardian.
The angel stirred to look at the child with vibrant green eyes resting under a fiery mane. "I have fallen. Run child before the demonic nature rises in me."
The kid giggles bouncing the golden locks that framed an innocent face. "That why you have wings?" the seven year-old asked before touching the felt like fabric of the angel's black wings. Traces of white could be seen where the small fingers touched but faded quickly like finger prints on a sunburn.
"Yes once they served a much more noble purpose."
"Why don't you just fly back to heaven?"
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because broken wings can't support anything."
"Why are they broken?"
"I lost faith."
"Why?"
"They burned my book."
"Why?"
"They didn't understand."
"Why?"
"I guess they just weren't ready for it."
"So you lost flight because some stupid people burned a book?"
"In a nut shell."
"Would you get it back if you had faith?"
"No faith can only stop me from falling now, and there's nothing to believe in."
"What about yourself, my mommy said you should alway believe in yourself." The child handed the falling angel a flower and ran off.
Without bothering to acknowledge what was lost, again, the angelic being rose slowly from the ground, such a mundane fall could not destroy such an ethereal creature. The wings floated carelessly in the wind, like sheets hung out to dry, before the astral creation hid the useless stumps so that the angelic beauty would be the only thing to make him standout. Immortality can be such a curse, especially when it comes without the normal benefits.
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solitare