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I finally put ABH on my shuffle ^_^ There's one song, "Thoughtless", that is actually by Korn, but Ev performed it. I like the beginning ^_^
Heartbreak follows swiftly where she walks.
"All of my hate cannot be found. I will not be drowned by your thoughtless scheming."
~nepie
Well, now that I actually have time to think ^_^
I went back and re-read a few earlier entries. I can always tell which ones are the interesting ones. They've got 3+ views ^_^ I'm laughing at myself now. I pretty much said "bring it" to a threat, freaked out b/c of something I may or may not have heard come out of my best friend's mouth, and had weird dreams. And was very cryptic, at times.
I drew this pic that was an elven boy. He's very handsome, I must say. But he's not really an Elf. He's a Tuxedo Mask-like character. Gotta name him, but I don't feel like working on it just yet. I'm working on my little story, "The Flower Maker". I had this sudden inspiration while looking at pictures earlier. I was a little sad at first 'cause I thought the only way it could be story-ized would be to write a whole new story, but then I realized how I could fit it in. ^_^ Here's what I've got so far:
Snap! A small brown piece flew up into the air and landed on the table. A few seconds later, another snap followed, accompanied by another flying brown piece. It landed alongside several other brown pieces and a few longer green pieces. Pieces of other colors littered the table and floor.
In the epicenter of this mess, Amy Lynn finally sat back and admired her finished rose. It was constructed entirely of pipecleaners. The brown pieces were the product of her snipping the thorns to the proper lengths. An hour of intense effort had produced a beautiful flower that could last far longer than any real flower.
Amy Lynn stood, holding the pipecleaner rose with utmost reverence. She walked carefully to a shelf containing all sorts of wonderments. The light was dim in this part of the room, but she could just barely make out the frontmost creations: a yellow and red pipecleaner poppy; a plack pom-pom cat with pipcleaner tail; an odd creature with a heart-shaped face, wooden body, and pipecleaner limbs; and her personal favorite, a figurine of her best friend Tory, the product of nearly two hours of glueing, braiding, and bending. She placed the rose in front of these creations, front and center, her most precious work.
Supressing a sigh, she walked across the room and gracefully settled herself in front of her computer. She turned and gazed at the rose as she waited for the machine to start up. She might hav stared at her creation forever, had the computer not beeped sullenly. Amy Lynn had long known that it had a mind of its own. It always knew what she wanted, but the wayward machine often did the opposite if it felt shortchanged. Today, however, it greeted her with the image she had wanted to see.
She gazed longingly at the face on the screen. The smooth, porcelain-white skin made it seem so much youner than it was. The dark eyes seemed to be looking into her own pale ones. She remembered gazing up into that face one time. Even in person, that face seemed so young, though the boy it belonged to was a month older than her. They had both known suffering, but it did not show on his face. He was as youthful and mischevious as a child, if no more so. He was so laid-back, so happy. Her face showed the pain, though. She barely managed to hide it from her close friends for the short whiles she was with them, so when she ran into him unexpectedly at the mall, the pain had shown through. "Be happy," he had said.
"How can I be happy if I have to give up the people I care about?" she angrily asked the picture. "Damn you, Blaine. I wish I had never talked to you. Then I wouldn't be suffering right now." She tried to close the window, but the computer froze. She pushed the reset button, but nothing happened. "Oh come ON! Stop torturing me, stupid computer!" She hit the side of the monitor angrily. Imediately, the screen went blank.
That's all I've got, for now. I'm working on more. I need a middle part. I know the end, but not the middle. Bleh, stories...
 nepie · Thu Aug 09, 2007 @ 06:30pm · 0 Comments |
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