nothing

I could see nothing.
I could hear nothing. .
I could feel nothing. .
I could smell nothing.

FLASH. The flash was so sudden, and though it only illuminated everything for a few seconds, I could now sense more than I had moments ago.

I could see Nothing but trees.
I could hear Nothing but the air whistling through branches
I could feel Nothing but the cold, moist earth I was laying on
I could smell Nothing but the plant life that surrounded me.

How had I gotten there?
Where was I? In a forest, it seemed.
Were there nothing but trees? Where were all the insects and small animals that inhabit forests?
After a moment I realized my questions weren’t going to get answered.
“Is any body there?” I yelled.

My mouth was dry and didn’t have as much volume as I could have liked. So I got up and began to wonder through the trees- hoping I’d find my way to the road.

I couldn’t remember anything that had happened. The last few days were quite a blur.

Where are you going? a voice I didn’t know asked. The voice seemed to be as much in my head as it was the wind. I looked all around me.

I could see nothing but trees.

“where am I?” I asked out loud. Wondering if it was possible I’d be answered.

Nowhere. And everywhere. Why, where do you want to be? the cryptic voice asked sweetly.

“home. And who are you?”

And where would home be? the voice laughed

Until that second, I had been picturing my home. Thinking about my friends, work, my house, everything positive in my life before. Now the thoughts alluded me. I couldn’t remember any of it. It was if the thoughts had been stolen from me.

“who are you?!” I yelled with more volume then the first time.

Why would I tell you that? It would ruin our fun. Now tell me, where do you really want to be? new images filled my head. Places I had never seen, but with the images I knew everything about the place, as if I had always known….

The first was of the streets of Spain. So many people in colorful outfits, shopping and laughing….

The second was of New York. Of a restaurant, so many different races, mixed and mingled around the bar while several tables were filled with couples…

The third was of London. Of the clock tower, tourist crowded around, taking pictures with their families.

The pictures continued like that for several minutes, I stopped and leaned against a tree while I watched the happy people. It was as if the feeling had been foreign to me, and seeing it now, feeling what the people in the images were feeling…. I was overcome by it completely.

“what do you mean?” I asked almost silently.

I mean, look at the images- wouldn’t you rather be there? Be happy? the voice began sounding frustrated, but ended with teasing. You could almost her the smile in the voice.

“okay. New York. To that restaurant.”

Your first wish. Are you sure? the voice asked teasingly.

“I guess….what do you mean? should I no-” I cut off, wt was like being moved at an incredible speed. The spinning and turning at such speed was making me dizzy… before I could make sense of amy of it. I was there. It was exactly like the image.

Exactly like the image. It only took a few seconds to realize nothing was moving. The people, the place it was as real as the forest had been, but it was all still. I walked around the people- hoping for them to come to life…

“what’s going on?”

you wanted to go to the image. I asked if you were sure. the voice seemed to sigh

“I want to leave” I said to the voice

Well, I’m sorry. I have something more important to do at the moment. I’ll talk to you later. impatience filled the voice.
“wait, who are you?”

But nothing answered.

I hope the voice comes back soon, I thought to myself- wondering if that was true. The voice couldn’t be too good, but evil? I didn’t want to think so. But what was it? Was it a person? Or something else all together? How could something hear my thoughts and communicate with me?
I was too freaked out by the concept to think anything more of it.

I quickly found that the still people in the restaurant were the only things I was going to see of the city. There was no way to leave. After what seemed like hours, I heard something other than silence.

Where else would you like to go? the voice was more polite now.

“I want to know who you are. And what’s going on”

Again, sweetheart, that would end the fun. That’s all this is- fun. Use your imagination. What would you like to do now.

I thought about a way to trick the voice. Maybe convince it to send me to a real place, a place where I could figure out what was going on…

No dice, dear. I’m not ready for this to end. it laughed.

My stomach clenched uncomfortably.

“I don’t care where we go. But what do I call you?”

Hmm, you can call me angel, the voice laughed.

. Interesting.

The voice just laughed. “well, I don’t care where we go.” I lied casually.

Yes you do, but okay, lets go to Spain.

“joy”

More laughing. angel really seemed to be enjoying herself.

This time the whirling and spinning didn’t make me as dizzy.

The Spain image was a lot like the New York one had been, only it seemed more like a large picture. Two-dimensional.

“are you going to leave this time, too? Or have you decided to answer my questions?”

What questions do you have? angel seemed to be trying to stay polite.

“what’s going on? Where am I? and who the hell are you?!”

I already told you all of that, sigh, we’re having fun. We’re in Spain, and I’m angel.

I decided it’d be best not to argue with angel,, It seemed impossible. “okay”

This seemed to make angel mad. All at once, I knew that was something I did not want to happen. The consequence of that would be far worse then whatever was happening around me.
I doubled over in agony. Angel seemed too angry to speak. Searing pain coursed through me. All at once my vision blurred, I could hear my hearts horrid beating- threatening to stop. I could taste blood as I bit my tongue in efforts not to scream. I felt myself hit the brick road.


Then nothing.

I could see nothing.
I could hear nothing. .
I could feel nothing. .
I could smell nothing.

FLASH. It was exactly like the flash I had seen in the woods. Lasing only a second, then I was more aware of my senses. I was terrified, was I back in the woods, lost?

I could see a bright light-there were no trees obstructing my view.
I could hear beeping. From a machine nearby.
I could feel something soft under me, and a blanket of some sort wrapped around me.
I could smell….. It smelled… clean. It smelled like cleaning products.

Well, I am not in the woods. Where am I?

“How are you feeling?” someone asked me. The voice was familiar, but I could not quite place it.

“Umm, confused… what’s going on?” I sat up. I could now see that I was in a room that looked like a hospital room… the walls were decorated in a mural. I stared at the mural for a few minutes; thinking- there was something too familiar about the people in the mural… Something from when I was lost in the woods…

“It’s a lovely mural, isn’t it?” the familiar, unplaced voice asked. I took my eyes off the walls to look at her. She must be a nurse, I thought. “Oh, I’m your nurse.” she said, “We thought you’d a freak accident. However, the police will be in soon to ask you some questions. They think you were attacked” the woman said as I tried to figure out what was bothering me. Everything about this was too familiar…

“It was you!” I suddenly realized. The nurse- it was her voice I had been hearing when I woke up in the woods. Moreover, the mural was the last image I had seen. Spain.
Took you long enough, sweetheart. Nevertheless, you were not supposed to wake up from your coma. In addition, since you seem to know too much- I cannot let you talk to the men outside. The woman smiled. You will just have to go back to sleep.

I remember screaming. Then nothing,

I could see nothing.
I could hear nothing. .
I could feel nothing. .
I could smell nothing

Only this time- there was no flash.

Breath in for luck. breath in so deep this air is blessed, you share with me. This night is wild, come and dull these hearts they race from self-control. your legs are smooth as they graze mine, we're doing..... nothing at all.

The night is full of mystery. Even when the moon is brightest, secrets hide everywhere. Then the sun rises and its rays cast so many shadows that the day creates more illusions than all the veiled truth of the night.

Don't be afraid!
i love you.

Infatuation is blind and it likes to stay that way. It doesn't look at reality.

I should've seen the signs all around me, but i was comfortable inside these walls.

An angels crime:
An angel tantalizes me with heaven's fire, to covet a life just beyond my grasp. Years paint the path of forbidden desire, as his wings burn my skin. Woe to you, forbidden, Angel, oh blissful agony drown my cries, expose my souls ravenous despair, gratify me with your wings afire.

I'll fight, i'll defend, i'll stand my ground, i'll do what i need to succeed and believe you won't leave.

The silence, it tells a story you don't want to hear.
The silence, it screams a tale you can't bare to hear.
The silence, it says what you can't.

my head in the clouds, my mind in the rain, my heart in the storm, myself in pain.

There is not privacy that cannot be penitrated,
no secrets kept in the civilized world

Fill your empty room with the sun.!!1!.

can it be?

Then and now, i can honestly say, i am hooked. Fascinated by his charm. Curious of his parting. In love with the smell that radiated from him. It is impossible 2 describe with words. too good to be true, amazing.
most of that stil holds true. Only now i know. If i had the choice change that, to take the other path, i do not think i would. This path is hard, but nothing can be worse than not knowing who he was. Or maybe what is a better question; one i never would have thought to ask had it not been for the next night.

Maybe i should hate you for this, never really did ever quite get that far.

You put yourself in stupid places. Yes, i think you know it's true. Situations where it's easy 2 look down on you. I think you like 2 be the victim. Think you like 2 be in pain. I think you make yourself the victim, almost every single day. You do what you do, say what you say. You try 2 be everything 2 everyone. You know all the right ppl, you play all the right games. Always try 2 be everything 2 everyone. Yeah you do it again. You always do it again.

failure

i can hear the heart beating in your chest, it makes me aware your alive.
that there is life is your body.
flowing through your veins is the blood of a thousand failures, and just as many have givin up.
you'll be different, i tell myself...i tell you.
i shall tell the world.
you can prove them wrong..
you can live without the sorrow;
you can live with the happiness.
you can forget that the chances are screaming for your faiure.
you tell me you know you can.
"i did," you say.
i strive to believe you.
you lied to me.
your lies, your ghost,
will forever haunt me...
your blood flows in my veins,
the blood of a thousand
..failures

hearts

"there are only two kinds of tragadies in life :

• one is to lose what our heart desires
• the other is t gain it"

it is clear, that though i don't know who originally said this, that he's had his heart broken. must suck. music will always be the best medicine. ; )

hooker mcdonald

i don't really have any new writings....
but i would like to say:

"i only burn bridges so that i can build new ones that can burn only bigger and brighter"

-hooker mcdonald (holly)

when i'm with you: the stars are dull and the sunsets are boring because the only thing i see is you"

-same

"if your gonna crash and burn, you might as well do it gracefully."

-same

hooker and i haven't been friends more then 2yrs, but her writing - not just her quotes that happen to find their way to the page of my journal - but her writin, so in deph and inspiring. she inspires me to keep writing and face the truth, eve when i'd rather curl up with my bag facing it. she helps with the blocks i come across.

i just want to give her her props. : ) and maybe i can get my hands on her main work....

sid vicious

"we had a death pact, i have to keep my half of the bargin. please bury me (pto) next to my baby, bury me in my leather jacket, jeans, and motorcyle boots. goodbye." - sid vicous ( the sex pistols ) suicide letter
sid died at the age of 21, of a herion over dose.

in previous yrs sid was a laid back guy who often siad things like " i'll die b4 i'm 25, and when i do i'll have lived the way i wanted to," and "today everything's a conplict of intrest"

sid vicous had suffered a tragic loss, his girlfriend was found stabbed to death in their hotel room the previous febuary. :( sid was arrested on suspison, even worse.

i can still hear nosies

life is just a noise, listen to the noise, it may trick you at times, but it's always chattering ], always sounding alarms of departure and alarms of warning as well as lust.
weather you listen to the alarms or not, they'll be there, telling you to make choices- some you may not want to make. i use to listen to the noise, but now i believe it's just that- noise.
endless chattering; endless voices chattering into the distance, and yet they sound so close- almost as if right outside of your ear... or even just in your head...
believe in your noise. it believes you to be there, listening, always listening.. weather truth or lie, wrong or right...you contribute to that endless noise.
-hannah kirkland ( wrote on january13, o9)

immortal!!!

I detest life-insurance agents; they always argue that I shall some day die, which is not so.
Stephen Leacock (1869 - 1944)
ironic. this dudes like "i shall not die"
well he did live like 75 years so thats pretty good, i guess. considering everything.... i wonder how he died...
i am going to google it.
brb

[This, my little Jane, is why Pauper Children have to die.Pauper Children underfedDie delirious in Bed;Thus at Malthus's CommandMatch Supply with true Demand. (Oh! Mr. Malthus!, 23-28) ] stephen leacock was a poet!!!


(these aren't by stephen leacock, just the one above)

Let the boy try along this bayonet-blade
How cold steel is, and keen with hunger of blood;
Blue with all malice, like a madman's flash;
And thinly drawn with famishing for flesh.
Lend him to stroke these blind, blunt bullet-heads
Which long to muzzle in the hearts of lads.
Or give him cartridges of fine zinc teeth,
Sharp with the sharpness of grief and death.
For his teeth seem for laughing round an apple.
There lurk no claws behind his fingers supple;
And God will grow no talons at his heels,
Nor antlers through the thickness of his curls.



What thou lovest well remains, the rest is drossWhat thou lov'st well shall not be reft from theeWhat thou lov'st well is thy true heritageWhose world, or mine or theirs or is it of none?First came the seen, then thus the palpable Elysium, though it were in the halls of hell,What thou lovest well is thy true heritageWhat thou lov'st well shall not be reft from thee
(EZRA POUND, PISAN CANTOS, LXXXI)



"well stephen died of throat cancer on March 28"
now you know

quotes

"the only thing for certain is that nothing is"

"without music life would be mistake"

"without my light, i have no life... without my love, i have no soul... without you i have nothing."