76 edad libra. mujer
De Montreal, Quebec, Canada
Se siente diamonds...
|Última vista:||Tue Nov 30, 1999 @ 12:00am|
|Personality:||Adventurous, Artistic, Eccentric, Flamboyant, Friendly, Humorous, Logical, Loving, Open-Minded, Self Confident, Unconventional, Wild|
|Music:||Alternative, Blues, Classical, Drum & Bass, Electro, Hard Rock & Metal, Hardcore, Hip Hop, Oldies, Opera, Techno, Trance|
|Dining Out:||American, Barbecue, Chinese / Dim Sum, Continental, Fast Food / Pizza, French, Greek, Indian, Italian, Korean, Mexican, Seafood, Thai, Vietnamese|
|Sports:||Badminton, Billards / Pool, Bowling, Darts, Flying, Golf, Ice Skating, Ping-Pong, Rugby, Swimming / Diving, Volleyball, Walking / Hiking, Waterpolo|
|diamonds||Thu Jan 28, 2010 @ 3:00am|
|poor||Sat Jan 10, 2009 @ 1:55am|
|piggy||Mon Jul 28, 2008 @ 5:11pm|
|evil||Sat Jul 19, 2008 @ 1:36pm|
|lovely||Sat May 31, 2008 @ 9:04pm|
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I had been thinking about this a lot. It's something I'm writing these days... though, there is only an extract. My actual text is of six pages... and far from done ! This is just a part which I feel it sounds better.
[...] She brought the boy to 'the other sides of the door'. A door had simply appeared on one of the boxes. Standing straight and ferm, out of moody wood with a 'too low' handle. Bright on one side, dark on the other. They both jumped to that one box, then both got in the bright side and both saw the same thing. The boy didn't know why all the things around him would change so drastically all the time. Though, he found it great not to see the same places everyday. So, they went through the door which ended up in a valley of grass and wild flowers. Some spots where the grass would be very tall, getting itchy to their knees. At others, it would be really short, giving the smell of freshly cut lawn. The door wasn't shut yet and the boy wanted to see the other side. He pulled the women's arm and got back on the roof. The women went in first. She really had insisted. Instead of a a yellow bright light, the second side seemed to expose a low red illumination. As if it had been extremely dimmed down. The boy got in at last. The first thing to be seen was a red bricked wall, in the back of a room. Not too big nor too small. Not too comfortable, either. But still, it was the kind of place the boy had already dreamt about. A place he wanted to visit. The women didn't seem so sure about the idea but she would never give out all of her thoughts, so it was possible for him to get many interpretations. She closed the door and gave a sorry look to the boy. She beat him. She beat him so intensly that the boy wouldn't stood up after he fell. Scrathes to his back, nuckles hitting his face. Blood coming out off his nose, his lips. Even his eyes bled his tears*. Violence was the only present thing.
-You will see, why...- She said.
Scared and excited, the boy left to his box, hardly running in between all others. His step were havy, his senses were getting numb. He slowed down to walking.
When he arrived, the cat was furious. He growled at the boy. He said
-Where is all that blood² coming from ?-[...]
And the cat attacked the boy wildly, which damaged him even more. The boy turned to the side. Sickness invading his mind. His body crisped and enlarged. Letting out from his mouth a really havy ancor. The boy stood up, bleeding ou of everywhere. He felt for some reason much more light and willing to be free.
-Get this in !- Screamed the cat.
The weight came back.
-My wounds won't let me handle this.- Said the boy.
-Try anyway, I'm a cat, I could never do it alone.-
The boy threw the ancor's chain to the cat on top of the box. This was really impressive to see. How come the cat had changed so much ? He was actually talking and on the roof, Outside.
* "[...]where did the blood-tears of Caine come from, if not from the original Curse ? Was he then a vampire at that point ? When did he exactly begin crying blood ? [...]"
The Book of Nod, 1997 White Wolf publishing, inc. edition.
Extract from : Notes to the "Chronicle of Caine".
² See 'The Book of Nod' for the whole 'blood' meaning.
New thoughts, new manners, new words, new inspiration.
And it goes like this :
[...] On the passenger seat, there's this Lady I once met. She was dressed all in black and had this weird shaped hairstyle with those weird looking sunglasses. The first time I saw her it was in one of the crapy room at my place, and I told myself : What a queer looking person. But by the time the thought had reached my brain, there she was. Standing right in front of me. And there I was, sitting in that brown and orange fucking-lame-low-class chair which was in my house... I was high that night, wat up there in the sky.
-I'm on E!" I shouted like an idiot.
She stood there as I was about to shout again, out of desperation, when the person whom she was with said :
-This is Nothing.
-Nothing..." She said."Nice to meet you."
That night, not much had been said and I could not get her off my mind. for a few months, we wouldn't see eachother so much, until that one night came by.
It was snowing on that day. Ô beautiful days where the snow would flood into my brain as nosebleeds. It was quite a special day for many of the people who were around. But we were there because it was a good reason to party. We were all in that little not so clean nor comfortable room where, at least, the snow was. We talked and had fun until sunrise. Then, we headed to her place. A room in someone else's basement. She, Rose, a friend and I had bought some more snow... Sweet snow, covering your skin as soft god-like touch, melting-in your brain and sticking to your nose, leaving a white stripe on the side. My friend, Rose, was laying on the bed with me. She had taken my soft stripe away so I wouldn't look like an idiot again. She knew everything about the other night;
-You look better that way." She smiled.
As I smiled back, I felt a look upon my body. I stared into the Lady's eyes, feeling there was something blocking my way in. I suddenly felt vulnerable, like she had taken a free pass into my mind, so messy, full of snow. As I let myself fall in the deep pleasure of feeling abused, I tried to figure out wether I was too frozen to look or if I really saw that red bricked wall in her eyes. It was like I didn't get the permission of seeing somethings...
Yet, till this day, I have never seen anything else but what I wanted to see in those eyes. Can a pretty truth really exist or is it just me who doesn't want to see the ugly of that side of the door? [...]