Welcome to Gaia! ::

Projects:

Fiction:
Rose Petals
Rose Water
The Widow at Midnight
The Widow in Scarlet
Lilac Widow

Non-Fiction:
Living Thin: Skinny Girls Surviving the Big Girl's World

Essays:
Gatekeeper
Le Rêve
ADrien
Blind

Teaser:

Blind

I am filled with our daydreams, our plans for the now, and then. I am your model, your basis, and you are the secret truth, the stolen echo of a free life: a world without obsession, necessity, or greed.

I am the expulsion of your joy. My light moves from lady's hands, bejeweled with your words and my insecurities. I am what you created in warmth, but graced with a voice you did not intend to hear. My perfume is a pungent reminder of our distance; the desperate hugs and failed forgiveness. My cruelty you deny, forget, unable as you are to see the world and the desire you plague.

You are my excavated self, my broken struggle from a gilded cage.

She carefully wrapped her legs from the knees down and the rams from the elbows on. She pulled on her spandex suit and leather boots and gloves. She looked herself over in the mirror as she tucked her fiery red hair into her black sunburst helmet. Now she was ready.

The sound of footsteps came up the stairs. She ripped off the helm, uttering a curse.

“Rae, sweety?” came her mother’s voice as the door opened. “Are you alright in there?”

Rae stood in the middle of her room, covered in a long blue bathrobe. “Yeah, mom, I’m fine. Just getting ready to go out.”

Mom smiled. “Okay. I’m getting ready to take my shower. Don’t stay out too late.”

“I won’t.” Rae smiled. “Promise!”

Mom closed the door. Rae threw off the robe, grabbed her helmet, and listened until the shower began. When it did, she placed it back on as before, and made a quick exit through her bedroom window.

It was a clear night, but as always when Rae went out to meet the others like this, there was no moon. She zipped along the quiet country road, trees flying by on one side while fields passed more slowly on the other. Other side roads converged with hers, and soon her bike was joined by others bikes, jeeps, and more than one car whose true potential could only be realized on the Autobahn. The drivers looked at each other as they passed, but in no other way did the acknowledge each other.

As one they all turned, circled in a field, then stopped with all vehicles facing the center. All manner of costumed folk emerged. Most of the other bikers were dressed in tight-fitting garments, like her. Others chose more extravagant looks.

One woman walked to the center of the circle. She seemed to glide, more than walk, and the layers of kimono added to the illusion such that she seemed to float over the brown grass. They called her Princess Cherry Blossom, their captain.

Yes it is, and you'll just have to wait and see. mrgreen

Dudue your poems are really good but that story is fricken cool as hell that's really awesome with the whole perspective thing and i caught that skit was skitzafenia or how ever you spell it so then skit isn't really there he's just in pete's mind right ????

Nushi: wow. I mean, wow. That is some seriously awesome imagery, and a very interesting concept.

For some reason, I especially like this line:



I guess I feel like it captures the essence of the piece.

Heres a short story I wrote a while ago.

I have wept for seven hundred years. You may see me dear reader, sitting on
that park bench. You may see me laughing, walking with school girls. You
have even seen me in the faces of children chasing that ice cream truck. But
you may not understand who I am. I have taken on the pain. I have taken on
your joy. I watch you all as these eternal tears run down my face into a
pool of bitterness.

Silly me, my reader, you ask who I am. I am a vampire, you ask? A werewolf?
God? No, my loving readers. I am a spirt. I have been on this earth and have
wept, cried, and searched for seven hundred years. I am a spirt who has been
betrayed, beaten, and raped by all color, all gender. I am that homeless
woman who begs you for spare change as you are on the way to a job that will
provide you with a cushy house and a wife that spends your money for you.
Your children will always be in private school and want for nothing.

Its okay though. Everynight, you dream of things that may very well happen
tomorrow. Your children struck bilnd, your dog dying, your wife cheats on
that pool boy. And even there, I am there. Who am I, you ask?

I am depair.


And this is the song I wrote


I also wrote this song.

Nights of the silent

The stares would taunt you
Memories haunt you
They want to hurt you
Oh god, I miss you
Please believe me

Chorus:
When say I say I love you
I'm not ******** with you
I hope you love me too
But I'm not the one you choose

You won't cry when I leave
I want reprieve
My silence screams to you
Silence that helps you
To where you want to be

Chorus

I could have been with you
But I'm not the one that you choose
What do I have to do to prove
That I love you

Chorus X2

(Spoken) As long as your happy, I'm happy, right?

He, sorry sweatdrop