|mi casa es tu casa|
it rains on you a rainy letterI read your letter your nice expressive letter. I'd be lying if I say I did not cry magining your eyes wetit rains on you a rainy letter by iGabo
from the rain watching the raindrops falling from your windows hiding your emotions while you put it on paper.
I read your letter once, twice and many times. And now I write back at you from my lonely place.
The rain has a vague secret tenderness, some drowsiness resigned and friendly
a humble music wakes up with her which vibrates the sleeping soul of the landscape.
It is a blue kiss the Earth receives, in which primitive myth becomes realized.
It makes the cold heaven and old earth meet together in a constant gentle blue sunset.
It is the dawn of seasons. Which brings us flowers and anointed the holy spirit of the seas.
The life that spilled over the fields sadness and soul of what is not known.
The terrible nostalgia for a lost life, the fatal sense of having been born later,
concerned by the illusion of a possible tomorrow and a cold winter night.
Love wakes up
De Vliegende Hollander"Sometimes I wonder if all the watery places in the world are haunted."De Vliegende Hollander by CrackedMack
I looked up, mildly startled, from the tankard that I had been dreamily staring into. When last I had checked, I had been the only one about; the common room of the Cutty Shark tavern had been dark and empty, the innkeeper having long ago retired for the night and my only company being the muted sound of rain hitting the shingled roof. But I was no longer alone.
Into the dying lamplight, from the direction for the front door, came the speaker. He looked to be an old salt, dressed in oilskins to keep off the weather. The way he hobbled up to the bar, hood pulled up so as to nearly hide his face, one might mistake him for some wayward goblin off the road, yet he nimbly climbed onto the stool beside me. When he turned to face me, I could see a smile of crooked and missing teeth hidden amidst a salt-rimed gray beard. His skin was pale, wrinkled and cracked with the consistency of old leather.
"Here now, lad," said the
Expedition Letters to GraceDear Grace,Expedition Letters to Grace by CrackedMack
You told me, back when we were visiting Peru and I was feeling down, that I would eventually find my calling in life. I write to you now to tell you, quite happily, that I have.
I can't explain much about it at the moment, only that my sudden absence from the university is for a reason. As I write, I am currently en route to New York City, to visit their museums and get a taste of the culture. I told you before how I wanted to visit New York while I had the chance, and now I travel with purpose.
I will say now, that while what I am about to do may seem strange to you, even mad, I can promise you that I am of sound mind and am determined to see my ambition through. Never before have I felt so strongly about the rightness of my decision. I will explain more in time. All I can tell you now is that I am launching my own expedition, and that it will be unorthodox, to say the least. I write you because you are my oldest and dearest friend, and I feel I can trust you.
Give my best
just a story...It's dark. very dark. I can't see a thing. is it already night? there are no windows here, just a door and four walls.just a story... by Engelmoon
"What time is it", i ask through the room.
"right befor midnight", a well know voice answers. someone sets his arm around me.
"are you ready?", the voice asks. I can't see his face.
"yes", i whisper.
The door openes. A man, all dressed in white, comes in.
"Numbre 3000, its time..." I stand up and walk to him. He lookes at me.
" Why are you in civilian clothes..." the man falls to the ground. A man comes out of the darkness. he is the only one i can trust here.
"Come, we have to go."
we run down countless corridores and no one crosses our way. the plan is very good. everx corridor looks the same. white with here and there a door, that are also white. we keep running, not realy knowing where we realy are.
"short stop." my partner is out of breath. not like me. damit....
A red lamp starts blinking and a voice comes out of hidden speakers and sends out a warning.
|awesome wrt works by awesome artists|
puff... talking about my self
is one of the hardest things for me to do.
I like reading Lord of the Rings and watching "Anime." I like football soccer, such-ii, reading (even tho i never loved literature) and writing stories as scripts. I value honesty, commitment, scholarship and kindness.
These are hard and true facts, but there is a lot I do not know about myself. I don't know how I feel about the death penalty, I have mixed feelings about religion, and I don't know what I think about a cashless society. I have no stock answer to offer about a life-changing experience or a moment of enlightenment, and it is hard for me to give a comprehensive proclamation of who I am, for my identity unfolds more every day as my experiences grow, and i don't have much. Since I am only 20 years old, life has a lot of unfolding to do.
I dislike saying "I am trying to find myself" because my identity is not lost, it just needs more uncovering. Luckily for me, what I love to do and want to be helps me uncover more about myself. I want to be a an Artist (photographer, Film Maker, Script-writer). I may not end up a professional but I will all ways be behind a camera, even if I am the only one interested in my work, because Art is my self-reflection.
When writing, drawing or designing, I sometimes get worked up into such a fervor that I barely know what I am doing. I just let my hands fly and the ideas pour from my head. When I go back through the mess of ideas, I notice a theme running through the work. I don't try to put a moral in the theme, but sometimes it happens. Evaluating the theme and the rest of the the Art (if you can call it that way) helps me interpret my own character and decipher my at times bottled-up feelings. In opinion my images and stories, my values show and express my general beliefs.
Every day my experience and knowledge increase, and I learn more about myself. Each time I write what is in my head as honestly as I can, another piece of the identity puzzle is revealed. Mostly, I like what I am (though this varies depending on how "emo" I'm feeling). I am not worried that I don't know everything about myself. As I get older, I'll figure it out.
Any other thing you can find out by your self.
Ps: I love the rain...and its raining now.
Current Residence: HELL
Favourite genre of music: rock!!!!
Favourite photographer: ansel adams
Favourite style of art: conceptual
Operating System: mac...duh
MP3 player of choice: ipod
Wallpaper of choice: one of mine
Favourite cartoon character: spiderman
Personal Quote: :love is an act of blood and im bleeding"