|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
Joseph and MauriceIt started as a marriage of convenience, really. Maurice was the best nutter in the colony, and Joseph always remembered where he'd put his stash. They figured that their teamwork would net them not only more nuts personally, but also the opportunity to start a small business storing and locating nuts for the elders. The King allowed them the union reluctantly. There was no law against it in the Kingdom, but he detested that type of marriage, personally.Joseph and Maurice by perceived-nobility
The ceremony was held atop the gazebo in Pioneer Park. Maurice and Joseph perched on the spire while the rest of the colony lined the railings and the rooftop. The King read from the colony's charter, then from its constitution. He tucked both documents back into their acorn-top binders and gestured to the couple. Tails intertwined, they fed each other seeds from the white maple tree and rubbed noses. Paw in paw, they scampere
The Love ShackThe Love Shack by gilad
Far away, thousand of miles from here, there is a black mountain. And on that black mountain, hiding in the mist of a forest, there is a small shack. And inside that shack there is a box, and in that box there is a heart. My heart, so no one can ever break it. Not even you. Even if you try, you will not be able to break my heart.
I'm here, with you.
I'm all here, touching your skin, gazing at you naked, inviting as silk.
We're together, but you are angry at me for meeting with others, for not living together. You're angry at me for not telling you I love you.
I can't love you. My heart is far away, thousand of miles from here, inside a shack, inside a box.
You are always so serious. Smile once in a while; don't take life so hard. We are doing all right as it is, aren't we?
No heart. We don't need the heart to have a good time. You don't have to handle commitment with this kind of seriousness.
"I'm leaving you, and you will end up alone" you said. "Good" I said.
"If you want to
To Write Love on Her ArmsWere riding in the car like we always do, always on our way to somewhere else. Im driving, passing highway sign after mile marker, counting the interstates until we get where were going.To Write Love on Her Arms by moonfreak
Shes asleep in the passenger seat, skin porcelain pale in the choked dawn sun. Its streaming through the windowpane in flashes that mark time with the gaps in the trees, just a few hundred miles more.
Somehow I cant see how this is a real thing, real like the way hearts break, but like floating up above here, just looking down into her beautiful face. I shake myself like it was only a dream, but here she is, right here in the passenger seat.
Concentrate, just for a second, curve around the bend before I return to contemplation. I don't like where were going now, because to me she is too perfect for the fate that awaits her there, somewhere out beyond my lovers reach.
But still I drive on through the puddles of sunlight, hoping that she wont wake up
I Love You MotherI watched them smile happily at each other; I stood wide eyed at the fluidity of their movements: bending with each gust of wind and the sun warming their leaves, making them shift slightly. I kept my distance as I observed them, they tracked the sun with a hidden compass and never straying from their designated path. Each day they would lift their heads to the sky and gaze longingly at the pale golden rays blazing above them.I Love You Mother by IrrevocableFate
They would twinkle little melodies each time the sun would break from a stray cloud and shine even brighter. Their green hands would fold downward when the rain fell from the above, like tiny, clear pearls dropping delicately to the ground. I'd watch in amazement at the long complicated dances they would perform for their only audience, the Sun.
With their leafy tendrils they would carry loved ones high in the air, illuminated by the sheer joy the sunlight brought them. Raising their voices in unison they sang praise for the shower of golden rays that woke them e
|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"