| The Ghost Gate - Prologue |
[Nov. 9th, 2007|01:35 pm] |
You are hereby exiled to the territory of Earth, to live unseen until its demise.
The sentence was not uncommon. The council pronounced thousands similar each day, increasing in number throughout the generations. It was simply the way things were. She just never expected it to be pronounced against her.
The charges were shady - the crime vague. All the protesters along with her were sure to never be seen again. The only consolation that she could find in her doomed heart was that Earth wasn't so bad.
Comparatively.
It was all over soon. At least that's how she remembered it. Gate travel, when the proper procedures are not taken, leave the memory as nothing more than a shadow. The sentence was not only of exile, but to be unseen - to be completely alone, and to know nothing else for all of existence. It was considered worse than execution.
But she remembered the gate. Oh, did she remember the gate.
It was a rude wooden structure on the outskirts of the city, sharply contrasting with the dark metal of the skyscrapers, the spires that rose into the perpetually lonely white sky.
No one knew how to work it but the council. And they were not a group to share their secrets - to anyone but the technicians, that is. But the technicians were only a name to attatch to the reason things were kept up. No one ever saw them.
All that mattered was that it worked.
The wooden archway slowly creaked open, and she looked into the portal that had claimed so many others before her. There would be no return. There wouldn't even be another exile to keep her company. Earth was considered utter wilderness.
The other side of the free-standing structure was much like the front; characterized only by dry, brown grass and a few stones. But looking through was a different view. The ground was hard and grey, much like a strange mix of packed dirt and concrete. And that was all. The flat, featureless ground continued for twenty feet, where it was covered by a thick, white fog. She was thrown in, the gate closed, and that was the end.
There was nothing to do but walk. Which she did.
The yellow earth sun shone brightly on the black pavement, and on the faces of the inhabitants that roamed the street. Cars honked, radios blared, conversation hummed. Not a soul looked up as a misty portal opened in the sky and a body dropped to the road.
Because it had begun.
She was a ghost.
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| Considering Individuality |
[Oct. 25th, 2007|06:00 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | rant | ] |
| [ | Music |
| | Boys of Summer | ] |
Yes. I'm starting to blog about actual IMPORTANT things.
Not to say that your lives aren't important.
I just feel like the majority of the blogs I read are full of...well...nothing.
So I'm doing what I do best - filling the holes in my world by writing as if you have the same cravings as I.
Ooooo. Becca's trying to be smart.
-dirty looks from the crowd-
ANYwho.
What I am about to write in no way is an attempt to infringe on or poke fun at your rights of personal taste, only to point out some very poor examples of those who claim to give the advice 'just be yourself'. Because, in fact, I have found in my life that most people when they give you such advice, are complete hypocrites. They don't mean you can just be yourself, they mean just be yourself just as long as you don't offend anyone in the world, and you stay at /their/ level of modesty.
No one has the same style as you, and as long as it's within the realm of God's law, who can put another down by the way they choose to look? It's so easy to bring another person down, even if not a single word is said. It's in a look, it's in how you are around that person, that can speak so much more than a simple 'I hate how you look'. The church is made up of many members, and not everyone is going to choose to look alike. God forbid the day when Christianity is associated with conformity. It's what is so great about the church. Many members, who are all different, yet we still make up one body.
This is not about cleavage, or how tight a garment is, but of style and personal preference. Immodesty is doing something to make people look at you, to lift yourself up, to gain attention. But what about when something is /really/ just a matter of taste, and not a cry for attention? The style comes first, and no one should be able to look down on that person for their personality.
We wear a shirt in our favorite color, yet we criticize when someone does the same - only when their favorite color is hunter orange, black, or 'blood red'. Every morning you choose clothing that reflects your personality...why should it be forbidden to someone else?
Show some common courtesy. We don't give you a look over and then make a poor attempt at hiding the grimace, so return the favor. |
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| ... |
[Oct. 18th, 2007|06:08 pm] |
| [ | Attitude |
| |  irritated | ] |
| [ | Music |
| | I'm Just A Girl - No Doubt | ] |
I'm having a bad day.
I had a dream that I died of a heart attack while performing Welcome To the Black Parade.
And I'm dwelling on it.
That is all.
I just know my month is going downhill from here.
And I had a filling done. The right side of my mouth is numb and it's making me grumpy.
So cheer me up or shut up and go away. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 9th, 2007|03:59 pm] |
| [ | Attitude |
| | stressed | ] |
| [ | Music |
| | All You Need Is Love - The Beatles | ] |
ok.
I'm having one of those 'I hate you' and/or 'I hate life' days.
Cheer me up after I update. Because I need it. k? k.
I'm almost done with my second book and if feels like a dream it's gone so fast. I haven't showed much of it to mum, and I'm really afraid she won't like it. I mean, I don't care if she doesn't care for it, but in the first book, Hannah's mother is one of those rich snob types, and she doesn't like Hannah's interest in any art that's not stuffy and overpriced. She got onto me about making the mum look bad.
I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FISH. IT'S HOW THE STORY GOES.
So in the second book there's a city where the majority of the residents are sort of like clones, all of them wear white, white hair, blue eyes, and they look down on anyone who has color on them. The point I'm trying to make is that people who are different aren't wrong, and shouldn't be looked down on. I just know she's going to latch onto that and get onto me again.
But I'm going to write it how I want no matter what anyone says. The story is a part of me, and I'm not changing it for anyone but myself.
Wow. This is turning into a rant.
But that's what journals are for, ne?
I'm starting sort of a band with my friend. We can't get together much, but we're going to be writing some songs together. Mostly MCR, Evanescence style stuff, because we both like generally that style. I'm really excited, because she's someone I connect to on a deeper level. I could headbang and dance around like a crazy person and she wouldn't look at me like I have six arms...unlike other people.
I'm definitely going to post the lyrics we write here.
Band name suggestions? I can only think of Spydog. Sounds kind of indie/hard rock, yeah?
And because of my love of photography, I may post some fake CD covers and band photos. :) |
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| layout |
[Oct. 4th, 2007|11:46 am] |
ok.
Can someone help me make a better layout?
I am horribly inept at said skill.
I can't seem to get my color changes to stay. Or work. |
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| Sinner, Sinner |
[Oct. 2nd, 2007|08:59 pm] |
A song for Christians who dare to be themselves, even if it's different.
Written by me.
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Sinner sinner
you're different than us
believer believer
usn't that a plus?
Sinner sinner
you're going to burn
believer believer
when will you learn?
it takes all kinds
to shine through the night
yet you divide sheep from sheep
and against me you fight
it takes all kinds to shine through the night
yet you're all the same, and against me you fight
sinner sinner, is all that you say
I've done nothing wrong, I still walk in the Way
sinner sinner
you need the light of the word
believer believer
I have it, haven't you heard?
sinner sinner
you don't look like you should
believer believer
you look all the same, you think that you should?
hypocracy and hatred
disease within your heart
salt of the earth, shown to the door
because they're not just like you are |
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| song I learnt |
[Oct. 1st, 2007|07:26 pm] |
| [ | Attitude |
| |  chipper | ] |
| [ | Music |
| | Meant To Live - Switchfoot | ] |
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.
Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
-The Beatles
---
Today I had a guitar lesson, so I learned that. <3
I'm so happeh. |
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| birthday list |
[Sep. 20th, 2007|10:29 pm] |
my birthday's in november, but I thought it'd be fun to start a list now
For service:
1. Art of my steampunk character. ( Read more... )
2. Some pretty photography (just to see) :)
For buyable stuff:
3. Steampunky GOGGLES. I made a pair but they stink without good glue >< Preferably orange or green lenses :}
4. A Wonderflex prothstetic comission.
5. BOWLER HAT.
6. 1920-40's-esque patches.
7. Gear earrings.
8. Packages n packages upon packages of plastic glowy things!
9.Pre-enactment shirt - Lady's size medium
10.Angel Wing earrings
11. Dark Green Hook earrings
Yes, I can make sure you get it to me :Pfont> |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 20th, 2007|05:37 pm] |
okay.
what I want to go out of this crackerbox looking like is my own business.
some people need to just get out of my life.
because it's not theirs.
no matter how much they think it is.
in fact, how about I just leave theirs?
i wish it was that easy.
my whole family looks at me with distain for just being me.
my dad most of all.
and it hurts.
every.
single.
day.
i wish i could just leave.
my dad wishes I wore burlap bags all the time.
and i'm not happy about it.
[goggles almost done]
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| N.E.M.O. : Chapter 1 |
[Sep. 17th, 2007|07:49 pm] |
Whoever said practice makes perfect was a liar.
Or is.
Will be.
Depending on how you look at it.
I stumbled back into the void with a nausea that transcends all time and space. It's really a monstrous feeling- going back to non-existence. Atlhough I suppose anyone that suddenly lost all physical perception would acquire the same sensations I am repeatedly subjected to.
I remember the first time so vividly. As vividly as anything is in this place.
It's sort of like a dream- one that is so ghastly realistic and hazy at the same time. There is nothing, except the train of thought one happends to be riding at the moment. And even then, that feels a little shaky to me. But I suppose that comes with the wierd non-existence I am told to be in.
There's someone else. Or something. I'm not really sure it can be described in any words at all. It spoke to me when I first arrived. Or, rather...left.
I stood in the great, black expanse, thinking nothing at all but what was around me. Which was nothing.
What is this.?
What is this?
What is this?
Was all I could think. But not even then did my thoughts form words.
You are Nemo.
You are nowhere.
You are here.
Well, that made perfect sense, I can assure you. Nemo is far from a proper name for a young girl. But wait...was I a girl? Was I a human? Did I even exist?
It was the first time I had felt my new state. I was nothing but a mind.
What is Nemo?
I found the strength to direct my thoughts into a single point.
From the void came another message. Not words. Merely a message.
Non-existent Material Opposite.
Desire for non-existence has been granted.
You will serve.
Serve what?
Doing what?
Serve time.
Right the wrongs.
Serve time.
And that, simply put, is what I have been doing. Serving time. But it's been so jumpy I don't believe it can be quite described as such.
My job is to go whenever an wherever in time I'm told to, and make sure things go smoothly. Or, as rough as need be, depending.
I go back into a sort of existence for a period, manage what I'm supposed to, then pop back into the void. Which is, as I told you, constantly unnerving. Not to mention my missons.
There are simple things, mostly. Let out a farmer's sheep so he will meet the love of his life on the road, speak to a shop owner in favor of a certain patron so he may buy what he needs on credit, to invent some sort of glowing glass thing or whatnot. But now and then I must do the dreadful-sell an assassin a getaway horse, set a barn on fire, or even play cards with the captain of an icean liner so he will be distracted from a warning telephone call.
You may know the instances I mean.
And it's not just for me to make sure things go correctly in the first place. It's for me to smooth things out once someone's meddled with the time line. Now, I can't say I've ever met one of these troublesome entities, but I've been told that they exist.
After each of the missions that are so dreadful as I described, I am granted one more question by those who pinched me out of existence. I work to keep time how it originally was. But there are others who believe they are skilled enough to remove history of its blemishes.
It's kind of eerie at times, not knowing if a faceless stranger on the street is someone I'm working against. In fact, I've been told that there are a great many others like them and me. Did you know, that roughly half the beings you see on any given day, really don't exist at all? They are the people whose faces you forget forevermore.
Actually, it's likely that you've seen me at least once.
I never have the same face, but rather, look from behind the eyes of another. It's always been this way, I'm sure of it. It ensures that the timeline is not altered by the presence of new matter, that really shouldn't be there in the first place.
Yes, I'm sure it was always like that.
Until the mission where I was given back my face.
I'm not sure whether it was worth it, because the mission was the worst of them all. |
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| N.E.M.O. : Prologue |
[Sep. 17th, 2007|07:44 pm] |
Prologue
You may have had one of those days recently. Everyone does; When you feel so absolutely low, you simply have no other desire than to run at full speed, never to return. But for many, those times pass.
Me, I was one of those people whose whole life was nothing but those times. Why, you say? It doesn't really matter any more, not that anything terribly vivid, or, in fact, anything sticks in my memory besides the fact that it happened once. Not that time is the same for me as it was then. All I know is the present, but then that's not really concrete, is it? Time is really a simple thing, in a way. Properly handled it can be manipulated as any physical matter. But no matter how hard I try, I can never go back.
I don't know if it's that, deep down, I don't really want to, or that I am simply unable. All I can do is my job.
It was a rather gloomy day- when I left. Not only in my heart and head, but also in the sky and air. It is not quite accurate to say that was when this tale began, but it's as good a place as any to start.
I did something I had always thought, but had never done.
I said it aloud.
"I wish I didn't exist!"
And then I didn't. |
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| My Fursuits C: |
[May. 5th, 2007|05:48 pm] |
Allo y'all.
I joined livejournal mainly for the fursuiting community. So here are the fursuits I've finished so far C:
That's my first one :]
I think that one was fall of 2006.
The only thing I made was the head. I bought a commercially made tail and pair of gloves. The gloves were actually labeled as black bear...but they work :D
Sorry about the sidewaysness o-O
This is a red furry dragon I made for my brother, who's wearing it in the picture. For a costume party.
And I have to admit I got lazy on the eyes x.X
But it actually came out pretty well :D
And you can't see it in the picture, but he's got my bow-tie on :3
This was MY costume for that party :3
Since the nose was gigantic, the jaw didn't work, and I had to prop it open with a stick x.X
But this one also came out very well, in my opinion :D
And in case you're wondering, those are christmas lights. I had a battery pack in my pocket that made them light up - but I didn't have them turned on for the picture.
I'm almost done with my fursona's head. It's framed, foamed, and I'm testing the fabric pattern. I'm EXCITED X3 She's the one in my icon. And I'm testing the glove pattern at the moment. |
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