Sincerity

Четверг, 29 Мая 2008 г. 06:45 + в цитатник

Sincerity

I want to be sincere to the one who will listen. My music...it is not a key of notes or a singing song of vitality for the one to hear it. It is not just one's emotion. My music...it is a tool within my reach, my power, my wrath- over those who have done wrong to the world. For those who will listen...it is a hypnotizer, a weapon to hit, to destroy!...I, the wonderful musician, recall things unimaginable. I...was the one to bring them back. The memories of others- the ones I called friends. I have used my weapon against them, the people. It was not until I realized...that I stopped myself from harming. To think twice...-Are my closest friends the ones to play foul, or are they my closest enemy to have done this with a purpose...?

I do recall a good deed. The day I came to life to love the one who took my hand...

But is the one I love...the one I am to destroy?

I must be sincere with myself. Or else...I will be the worst liar of those that I dispose of...I will be at the Sin Collector's hands, the then there will be nothing I can do. Nothing I can help!~

Рубрики:

[philosophy]
*my book*

Метки: sincerity

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The One who Desires

Вторник, 27 Мая 2008 г. 05:02 + в цитатник

Desire

He desires the moon in the night, the wind in the woods and the clouds in the sky. He gets all of what he wants. The moon is shadowed out by him, and the wind carries him wherever he wishes. The clouds caress his body wherever he goes.

He desires fate to be good to him, for a life that will spoil him and pay for all his needs. He gets all of what he wants. Fate will forever rain treasures on him, and his life will be that of a soaring dandy dressed in gold.

He desires to see the lives of others. He desires to see all of them. Pain, lies, happiness, betrayals...secrets he should not see. He gets all of what he wants. He watches the people suffer in their struggles to live; he watches the tears of happiness on an old man's face when he receives a kiss from his son after a war that made him lose everything. He watches a man die at the hand of his best friend, who stole his loved one and accused him of treason against the law. And...he sees the most sacred secret before his eyes. This is what he desired- this is what he got. It unravels before him like a beautiful blooming rose; but in a moment's worth he runs from it, having seen the secrets he should never have known!

Now he is blind. He got all of what he wanted.

He desires to befriend the one who took away his eyes. The wonderful musician with the deadly secret comes...He gets all of what he wants.

He desires once more, to receive a quill and parchment to write upon. He is seated at a window with daylight he cannot see, the parchment laid before him and the quill put in his hand. He writes with such beauty...because he gets all of what he wants.

He desires to be forgiven before the one who took his eyes. He is forgiven- because his desire is only pure!

Рубрики:

*my book*

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{The Talents}

Воскресенье, 25 Мая 2008 г. 00:30 + в цитатник

Those who live upon talent are not among the ordinary living.

Рубрики:

{sentence}

Метки: talent

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a.k.a. Death

Суббота, 24 Мая 2008 г. 10:15 + в цитатник

a.k.a. Death

Footsteps unheard passed among the dead leaves. He was coming. In this place called Eves, no one could go unnoticed. Yet...the snake did, having made a long way in search of souls. "Walk no further, for this is a holy land." Before him stood a shadow. A towering shadow of the sculptor, the wonderful sculptor. "Am I considered to be such filth in your garden of angels? Or are your souls not worthy of being taken?..." He smirked. In reply came a rustling wind, "Among us we have no sinners. This is not the place to spill blood!~" The sculptor seemed annoyed by this wicked look on the sin collector's face. But the wind stopped. So did the noise around them. One step forward made the sculptor step back. Slower...and slower. He turned out of the way...to reveal behind him a staircase of stone. He did not understand how this was happening. Through gritted teeth he whispered, "You won't dare touch my creations-..." but in reply he saw the same old smirk. "Oh? But what have you to fear, mage of talent, you who has no daughter to watch over nor a wife to protect...you sorcerers have no treasures of such for me to take, just as I have done to ordinary men for thousands of years...yet your hesitation is simple! Up there stands the heartless marble statue, innocent like marble, and white like marble. Yet about her is a presence that makes you tremble. What's this I see...among the lifeless stone you carve, there is a figure with a soul trapped inside...and as far as time goes, you think its deadly secret will stay with you? Ah, dear sorcerer, you are already made a liar with your own words...and to think that you would keep inside her the most sacred of sacred demons that have raged across the world..." With this he passed the awestruck sculptor and stepped onto the cold steps...only to encounter a wall he could not see, but a wall he could not pass. He smiled even more, this time with a warning, "Those who hide their secrets from me do not know that they hide them from none other than Death itself..!" His words were powerful like thunder...but even thunder fades in a moment...just like his courage did...when he saw the face of the magic actor.

Рубрики:

*my book*

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~The Boy who fences~

Четверг, 22 Мая 2008 г. 22:42 + в цитатник

[Today] I was told that there will be someone coming soon enough. Ah. A boy who fences- a world champion. Interesting...how will he be like? They say he needs a Russian love. Посмотрим...)

P.s. A great thanks to my ПЧ and friend for the thumbs-up ; )

Рубрики:

~dreams~

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Sin Collector

Четверг, 22 Мая 2008 г. 05:28 + в цитатник

Sin Collector

He carries a book of sins uncompleted and takes it wherever he goes. His eyes pierce through people's souls like those of a snake searching for prey. Oh, how lovely is his gaze at first glance, and how terrifying at the next! His hatred seems to go unnoticed under the face of glory and wisdom. And no one knows...that every secret will be pulled out by him, extracted to the last bit, until a sinner may no longer stand under the piercing gaze of the snake...the snake whose eyes are red and hating. But it is impossible for the collector of sins to see through a statue of marble and a statue of stone. One symbolizes the dignity and will within a young figure of a nature unknown...the other symbolizes destruction and punishment to all who have caused pain and agony to the four saints...within a man the snake has always feared as the worst possible opponent in life- the magic actor. This is when the collector of sins curls up in the farthest corner of hell, only to watch in fright as the shadow of fear itself gains in on him and laughs, breathing revenge over him...

Рубрики:

*my book*

Метки: story

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Desperation

Вторник, 20 Мая 2008 г. 21:16 + в цитатник

Desperation

I am falling down to darkness,
Where my eyes will see no light,
Where I'll never see the nightmares,
Or the comet in the sky.
I descend down in the waters,
Thinking deeply of my life-
People crying over matters,
Wars that tore their hopes apart...
But my heart begins to tremble,
There is nothing I can do-
I have failed this world forever...
I have failed to save the truth.

Рубрики:

Poetry
*my book*

Комментарии (2)

P.S.

Суббота, 17 Мая 2008 г. 04:37 + в цитатник

Тот любезный человек который поставил симпатию- благодарю вас.

;) но дело в том, что в эпиграфе моего дневника нет ошибок.

"...we will be cruel if we will want to -

это грамматически-правильная фраза, элементы которой взяты из некой американской книги.

Да, я возражаю, да- я немного драматизирую. Но я это я =).

Ибо...I am a child of America, and having grown up there, I know this language better than the one I call my birth language. в)

Рубрики:

Poetry
[philosophy]
{sentence}

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~heat~

Суббота, 17 Мая 2008 г. 04:30 + в цитатник

As the days get hotter, by and by...I see a dream come up closer. Whether this is a hallucination or whatnot- I do believe it leaves a sign in my mind, over and over...and it cannot stop.

Рубрики:

~dreams~

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The Sun, The Moon, The Californian Wine.

Пятница, 16 Мая 2008 г. 00:00 + в цитатник

As the sun will boil our blood,
We will laugh and drench ourselves;
Through us the wine we taste will flood,
And make us drunk under the elms...

The Californian sun is hot,
The valleys swim among its rays;
So seems divine its name- whatnot,
A flaming spirit set ablaze.

I worship not this sun up high,
Or what we call the ocean blue;
I worship moonshine in the night,
And drink my wine under its hue...

Рубрики:

Poetry

Метки: california wine

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The Return home

Среда, 14 Мая 2008 г. 22:07 + в цитатник

Ah. I am back in SF. yes XD

[there are two types of men in this world- the ones who hate to admit that they love, and the ones that admit that they hate to love...]

Рубрики:

{sentence}

Метки: home

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My name is...

Вторник, 06 Мая 2008 г. 12:40 + в цитатник

My name is Провидение.

It is so...

I have added a new section- I hereby call it sentence!

And here it is.

-Beauty in all is unprecise.

06.05.2008

Рубрики:

{sentence}

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{Stay, Love...}

Понедельник, 28 Апреля 2008 г. 13:45 + в цитатник

--{-(@ { Stay } @)-}--

Stay with me- I do not wish to leave;
This night will kill me if you close your eyes.
Your heart is cold- there's nothing it can feel...
Yet you can feel the beat of my own heart.
You are and always- the demon of revenge,
But what is hidden under your existence?
You are a saint- the one that can avenge-
But you are silent and love-ridden to the end.
Please stay- your burning tears will heal-
And after that, I'll stand alone again.
If you will wish it- you may come with me-
But to this end of night- I beg for you to stay...

+ @)-}-- +

Рубрики:

Poetry
~dreams~

Метки: edmond dantes

Комментарии (4)

Смерть Моя х.х

Суббота, 26 Апреля 2008 г. 15:20 + в цитатник

16240343_1201559872_opormore__Trinity_Blood__Innocent_War (473x699, 97Kb)

О нет,

Настал тот день, которого я боюсь как....как fear itself! no х.х!

Этот день называется смерть интернету. Боже...помоги мне.

Я...уезжаю. И только Бог знает, сколько дней (а то и недель) не будет интернета.

А куда я еду? Вопрос особо тупой.

Сначала- к так называемым родственникам...а потом- в Новый Свет, господа.

Gomene за то, что автор "дневника" так и не смог сделать качественное фото на своем 10.5 megapixel фотоаппарате. Эх. Ну что тут...зато когда автор "дневника" вернется к себе домой на Новый Свет (а это есть Калифорния, США), то он (она) откроет новую галлерею в фотоархиве. Чего пожелаете- и природа, и косплей по мотивам любимых аниме...поезия и т.п. Весь этот бред.

А пока, после этого вечера, придется попрощаться.

no-o-o! why must I say goodbye to Trinity Blood and Gankutsuou?? TT_TT I won't be able to bear it...

P.S. Я конечно понимаю, что кто-то привык к моим весьма грустным и скучным причитаниям о жизни- но иногда эмоции заставляют человека вести себя как idiot. XD

Рубрики:

[philosophy]

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[ let's go dancing under the rain ]

Пятница, 25 Апреля 2008 г. 10:50 + в цитатник

I want to dance under the rain with someone who will come along and laugh out his worries and give no damn about the problems one has

Проснулось вдохновение...да оно как сама жизнь! Я не знаю, что происходит- просто глупо было бы называть это "позитивом" - нет- это пробуждение и свежий вдох воздуха...красивые закаты...от них немало воспоминаний. Одиночество пропало- и куда? В нем я больше выплескивала свои чувства через карандаш (да и он стерся) - а сейчас...ну непонятно, господа...я себя потеряла в этой странной весне.

The artist is losing it.

Damn...

Рубрики:

[philosophy]
~dreams~

Комментарии (0)

asterisk

Четверг, 24 Апреля 2008 г. 13:07 + в цитатник

~~[ nothing is alright ]~~

*when it comes to looking at yourself in the mirror with eyes full of anger and deprived wishes

Рубрики:

[philosophy]
*my book*

Комментарии (0)

Leave...those dreams

Среда, 23 Апреля 2008 г. 13:32 + в цитатник

The time is coming for me to leave behind whatever I had a tie to...it may be the last time I see some people, and a long time before I see others. It may be a chance that I may never come back to the place I once called home, or it may be a chance to continue the life I was given beyond the borders of my birthplace. No nostalgia. There will never be a dream of the things I saw...only words will come to my ears, the words I used to hear from those I called friends. I once called friends...and there will be no forgetting.
(452x600, 64Kb)

Рубрики:

[philosophy]
~dreams~

Комментарии (2)

[ Fight ]

Пятница, 18 Апреля 2008 г. 13:37 + в цитатник

A war we cannot lose

There is no time to cower,
There's only time to run.
To make it to the hour,
The final shooting gun.
We'll never hide from bullets,
Behind another's chest-
We'll bleed and cry our tears out,
We'll fight for what is best...
There's no point, whatsoever,
In proposal to give in;
We'll live- it's now or never,
We'll fight until the end!

I can no longer make out those people in the mist, among the crowds of gray. I can no longer see what is best for this world, and I will not, until there will be a ray of light in what we call the eternal darkness. I will no longer lose that ray of hope...

[the world is cold, forevermore, and that way it will stay until the people change their ways]

Рубрики:

Poetry
~dreams~

Комментарии (0)

[the silent place]

Понедельник, 14 Апреля 2008 г. 12:52 + в цитатник

Злопамятные, былые времена...не хочется вспоминать прошлое...это чужое прошлое из сплетенных в клубок жизни мыслей. Глаза с отвращением смотрят на беспомощность людей. Глаза...смотрят вдаль, жмурясь от вечернего дождя, смотрят на летящего сквозь мокрую пелену ворона...он улетит далеко, и никогда уже не увидет эти глаза, что так отчаянно смотрели. А я дышу весной, ночной сыростью, пропитанной запахом великолепных, вечно унылых берёз. И мне хорошо...оттого и плачу, что в моём мире этот момент длился бы вечно. А глаза мои не видят творения людей, эти застроенные земли, сожженные и утомленные роптанием желаний людских...мои глаза помнят лишь одно- где-то я уже видела это, где то, в городе тихих душ...

~~[и пусть будет дождь на лице её...чтобы не видали слёз болезненных тени за окном]~~

Рубрики:

[philosophy]
~dreams~

Метки: rain

Комментарии (2)

[стих про кукловода]

Суббота, 12 Апреля 2008 г. 14:49 + в цитатник

Dietrich

His lips are like a thousand stars;
They shine like dewdrops in the dawn.
His eyes go yonder, ceasing sighs,
So deep and drenching, drowning all.
He holds his tongue to lie once more,
To keep from her his dirty deeds;
He makes her heart and spirit soar,
For what he gives is what she needs.
A thousand strings will pierce her skin,
But she will never notice it;
A thousand kisses kiss her lips,
And take away the searing pain.
His lovely lips will touch her neck-
Until his hunger takes no more:
He'll bite her deeply like a snake,
And drink her soul forevermore...

Рубрики:

Poetry

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Перейти к полной формеБыстрая запись

Sincerity

The One who Desires

{The Talents}

a.k.a. Death

~The Boy who fences~

Sin Collector

Desperation

P.S.

~heat~

The Sun, The Moon, The Californian Wine.

The Return home

My name is...

{Stay, Love...}

Смерть Моя х.х

[ let's go dancing under the rain ]

asterisk

Leave...those dreams

[ Fight ]

[the silent place]

[стих про кукловода]