Friday, April 30, 2004
4:17 PM
i am having MAJOR writer's block.
i typed out about one page of stuff, and then boom! i deleted da whole thing cuz it was out of my standards..... and look at da crap i've been writing..? cliched. or extremely stupid. ahhh....i need a plot generator!!
tried reading other books for inspiration. got lots of out of this world stuff i wanna remember.
+an old woman on a subway who had pointy ears like an elf
+an old mansion where u can walk in the walls
+faeries and vampires
+poetry, goth art
+misty nights like in london
+pulling someone away just before a bad thing happens
+finding a coffin in the cellar
+brownies-little man-like things abt da size of a pencil,talk in rhymes
+descendadnts of a lost race
ok. all this probably won;t make sense to anyone, but im just trying to get my thoughts sorted out...like ouch. this very painful..i have no idea where to start...!XP
sighz. oh well back to pondering. hopefully in peace.
Thursday, April 29, 2004
8:40 PM
Let The Rain Fall
its raining now. and very heavily at that. The lightning flashes across the sky and blinds me whenever i try in vain to catch sight of it. it sorta reminds of those wet nights in new zealand, when i'd be sitting in my car on my way home after a nice dinner. we always went out for dinner on friday nights--it was kinda like an end of week ritual. it was nice to walk along the streets, with only a few shops still alight. you could feel the cold wind and the dry and crisp night air. people smiled at you when they passed, and your breath clouded before your face. the huge clock on the university clock tower could always be counted on to sound, steady, ancient noise booming across the town.
and then there was the cold rain, and the great knowing you were safe in your house while it was disaster outside. and you knew your next day of life would be better than the last, and that the happiness would never end. at leats it seemed so.....
i haven't thought much about new zealand much, and not for a long time. but i can remember every little detail, like the way the rain fell on my window, and the old bookstore at the corner of George Street, and even the small but cosy school library....i could even see my house, with its little garden and potato patch. and i could see my school, with its low wood fence and low-hanging trees. i can see those neat words on the board,in elegant cursive. i can hear my teacher's voice, reading from the first harry potter book....
was it so long ago?
i wonder....
i have not seen a single winter in 4 years. i have not seen my breath cloud, nor the frost on my car, nor that special kind of rain that is dear to only one place in the world.
i'm sidetracking again, but i wish i was still living that life, where i knew tomorrow was a brighter day and not a darker hell.
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
8:30 PM
=) im eating a cup of solero coffee crush.just thought i shld inform u. haha.
also thot i shld in form u i hav a HE prac exam tmr. n im missing a god awful dishtowel/tablecloth.
XP
6:05 PM
*LordLoser of Fyrestone Mansion*
The theatre was closed, and it was not surprising. It had been closed for almost a decade now, and no one ever bothered with it anymore. Musty old curtains hung limply from the ceiling poles. They were a faded maroon, a shadow of what was once fine wine red. The floorboards had long ago began to creak as one’s boots padded on their softening surfaces. The air smelled musty and old, and locked up. The huge golden sconces had rusted and fallen away, and bats resided in every dark cranny. Plush seats were now decayed, their innards exposed to the elements—screaming neglect. Faint streamers of sunlight filtered through tiny slits in the boarded-up windows, and the expensive threads in the carpet were frilling.
Nonetheless, a figure sat cross-legged in the middle of the stage, a lone candle aiding him in his conquest across pieces of parchment. Long, silvery hair was escaping from its loose braid, and turquoise eyes danced in the flickering candle flame. His skin—as pale and alabaster white as the moon—glowed eerily in the dimness, and slenderly pointed elfin ears peeked out form behind a mass of hair. His hand darted about in its conquest across the parchment. He found that he could write here. It was almost like going back in time, the elf thought. Had a famous actor walked across this stage once? Had a beautiful singer enchanted her audience form this platform? He could imagine the magnificent crimson curtains spread open, could imagine the fires burning upon their intricate torches. He could see the audience, immersed in their applause. He could almost hear the music playing, the sounds of rich voices—delivering some of the most exquisite and flawless performances of all time. Was the building speaking to him, he wandered. For with every hollow gale, every unfamiliar scent, he seemed to know something more about the place. It was as if he had been born here and knew it for all his life. For a scant moment, his quill paused in its tracks, and the elegant scrawl of cursive halted abruptly. Perhaps, he thought silently to himself. Perhaps somewhere in this old theatre was an entire store of scripts—plays dating back so long ago, they were hardly understandable.
Valcryn smiled wryly. Indeed, he told himself sarcastically. There you go conceiving the impossible again. His pen resumed its journey as he worked hard on the script, brows furrowed with concentration. He ignored the kinks in his stiff legs, the aches in his back from being in that position for too long a time. For hours more he sat and wrote, wrote what the theatre whispered to him—for it was like a friend to the young playwright. He never even so much as noticed when the candle became too short, and the flame sputtered and went out entirely. His hand felt gnarled and clammy, but he continued on. Just a bit more—just one perfect ending to grab their hearts. Yes, the theatre seemed to whisper to him. Yes, a perfect ending.
"Master?"
The voice caused Valcryn to start. He almost dropped his quill and toppled the ink pot. With no mild annoyance, he turned around to see Riggs standing by the theatre doors, a metal try in hand. He had not gotten use to the idea of a butler yet. Especially not one who smothered him like a boy and brought him ilk and cookies.
"What is it now Riggs?" he snapped. "I'm not hungry."
The butler shook his head, starchy white collar not joining in the movement. The older man lifted the cover off the tray.
"It’s a letter for you, master, not food."
Valcryn rolled his eyes and sighed. "How quaint."
He took the envelope from the butler and broke the seal—a lion holding a lance—his family's seal. Not another invitation to wedding, the young elf hoped. He was having quite enough trouble already, trying to fit into position of Lord of Fyrestone Mansion. The last thing he needed was another troublesome niece's fancy party. He asked himself again, why on earth he had taken the job. Oh yes, Valcryn almost muttered, Because it was the law.
He unfolded the parchment—not particularly new—and was about to start reading it out loud.
Riggs raised an eyebrow. "What does it say master, if I may ask."
Valcyrn glared at him.
"It says 'Dear Sir Valcryn Mastri, Lord of Fyrestone Mansion. I am writing to you as an unlce and a friend, on the issue of the Mansion. There are a few things you must know. One of which is that the attic is infested with bats, and you will need a wizard to help extricate them.'" Val snorted. "As if I never knew that."
Riggs looked at him sharply. "Master."
"Right." He said. "'The second thing is that my niece Florence is getting married in two days' time, and as a Mastri, it is only right that she have her ceremony in the Fyrestone Mansion. I seek you cooperation in preparing the decorations and making the place vacant.'"
Valcryn looked fiercely at the butler. "When did this arrive?"
"Two days ago, master."
The elf almost let out a pretty string of oaths form his mouth, but the butler shook his head sternly at him.
"I have taken care of everything, master." He said calmingly. "Do read on."
He almost slapped the old man. " 'The last and most important thing is never ever, in any circumstance, unlock the old theatre. Do not even go near it. There are things within you do not want to encounter.' "
Valcryn's eyes widened. He stood up immediately, taking his parchment and writing equipment with him. His eyes scanned the room, as if waiting for a monster or goblin to come charging out of nowhere. The theatre, however, remained as eerily quiet as ever.
"Come, master," Riggs said. "We had best adhere your uncle's instructions and leave this place."
The elf didn't budge. He was looking higher up, at the corners and shady areas. He thought he saw something move—something dark and swift. His heart began to pound, and he was assaulted by millions of apprehensions. Yet his eyes searched the ceiling relentlessly, as if he knew something were up there. Riggs grabbed his master's hand and dragged him out the door.
"You will be late for the wedding, master." He said frantically, shutting the theatre door.
Valcryn blinked and shook his head.
"Yes," he muttered. "Of course."
* * *
Valcryn was suddenly reminded why he hated social events. He fidgeted in the thick suit and high collar. He sat at the head of the long table, hair slicked back neatly. All thanks to Riggs, of course, who stood by his master's side. The young lord, almost sighed and swore, before reminding himself he was supposed to be one of the richest and most refined gentlemen in the town. Unfortunately, he wanted nothing more than to spit on that comment.
It was incredibly noisy. One would have thought a formal dinner would be quiet and respectful, but the hall was filled with endless gossip. The noblewomen sat in their frilly skirts and numerous jewels, chatting about the latest fashion or whose husband left who. The men droned on and on about war stories—for the older ones—and the latest weapons for the younger lot. Valcryn was disinterested in both. He was sitting beside his young nephew Ferrick, a strange lad who seemed more interested in staring at the groom's sister than his steak and potatoes. On his other side was the Duchess of Esime's daughter, Margot. And quite frankly, he might as well have been sitting next to a slug because despite her evident beauty, she was as fast as a tortoise running cross-country. She batted her lashes at him, and talked with an intelligible stutter.
"Margot is very gifted in singing, you know." The Duchess boasted. "Show him what you can do, dear."
Oh please no, please no, please no. Valcryn prayed hard and long.
The girl opened her ruby lips and the most god-awful sound erupted from her mouth. For a moment, he wandered why Margot was screaming and even considered checking if there was a mouse under the table or something. After a few moments of tuneless ups and downs, however, he realized she was crowing a very disbanded version of Amazing Grace. The entire table shook and goosebumps started spreading over his skin. Valcryn shuddered and hoped with all his heart she would stop. She dragged on hopelessly for about five minutes before the young elf lost his patience.
"For all the saints' sakes, do shut up!" he yelled. The girls closed her mouth immediately. Margot smiled at him sweetly.
"Did you like it?"
Val's eyes widened. "Like it?" he sputtered. "I've heard a cow sing better."
She seemed unaffected at first—or perhaps it was years of culture. But then her bottom lip began to quiver like a little child's. Then she broke into loud, noisy lachrymose sobs, and took off from the dining hall, her heels screeching as she ran. Valcryn bit his lip and tried to look innocent, but the dozens of angry stares reflected the mutual feeling.
"Go after her." Riggs hissed in his ear. Valcryn sighed.
"Right. But save me some food."
The butler's icy stare clobbered him.
He got out of his seat and quickly darted out the door, pacing the elaborately decorated hallways, wondering how he was going to apologise to the poor girl. He wasn't good at these things, and he wasn't good at being a High Class Lord. Valcyrn Mastri was reminded once again of the reason why he had abandoned his last name in the first place.
------------------------xxxXXXX~**||<<%%%:::::%%%>>||**~XXXXxxx----------------------------------------------------
ahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahaha....
^.^"
couldn;t help it. im being wacky today. so wacky mood=wacky story. yay...
contrary to any beliefs u may have, i am NOT one of them romantic freaks, thanks. its just wacky. wackywacky wacky WACKY
lol...i think im really going insane today. just had eng exam....and in a writey mood, but only to write WEIRD things. okay im seriously insane. well anyways, dis is da product of an insane mind. ahakz.
oh and learnt some badcool html today.see how smart i am??lol...okok.
cant wait for friday! and sports day!and slacking!
right.
-_-
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
4:41 PM
quotes stuff :)
Clinging to the fear of
Myself and the words
Of cutting lies
With truth I fall, into
An eternal blazed
With careless embers
A thousand moans I
Feel with my resonating
Fingers, I climb onto
The stray strands
Of hope and life
The light shatters
And I fling out
To capture the shards of
A lost fire but it dissipates
The air binds me
And I feel myself drop
As darkness encases me
In a velvet cocoon
I am left in myself
To heal, to breathe, be real
But what is it, to be real?
For summer comes and summer
Goes
But I live on forever
--me TM
This life's dim windows of the soul
Distorts the heavens from pole to pole
And leads you to believe a lie
When you see with, not through, the eye."
-William Blake, The Everlasting Gospel
You are not wrong who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream."
-Edgar Allan Poe, Dream Within A Dream
im jus bored. n realised i deleted my work. damn.
4:32 PM
Gurl wif 5 colours in her hair
maria has officially influenced me with that mcfly song. stupid maria. XP
oh well...
today, ideas were few and far between. i got round to barely strating on that scripwright idea, and it turned out quite alright..i shld be studying for mah english exam tmr..but i guess im jus lazy. how can u study 4 eng anyway? its so...weird? yeah i sppse dats da right word. u cant build ur vocab overnight, and if u have that inedifnable it...well, u dun really hafta do anything at all. haha.
found farah on friendster and i was kinda happy. miss dat gal ya...she was dman fun to sit wif during mnaths class. and we were always tokkin abt music, and orlando bloom, and lotr....ahakzz. yeah i wish she were still in 2A.
^.^"
okay im off tracking as usual. alethea saw my hayken pic and she was-- surprisingly-- happy wif it. =) yay at leats i noe i did something right LOL.
wondering if i shld post up the tiny para of story i did.....well i think so. haha. im indecisive so sue me.
waaa. my arms are achin from doin 8 laps in swimming todayz. so sick ya? and some stupid extra-wannabe gals wanted 2 learn butterfly. like wadeva....*rolls eyes* we happen to be in the BRONZE class dears... im not planning to be an olympic medalist or anything -_-"
missed out on da third board.
sigh.
momma is buggin me. no ideas contributed. will post da beginning later.
ps, alethea was jokingly saying that mayb i shld write abt these ppl dat have 2 travel to diff. realms and everytime they finish their quest, they forget everything. all the beginning i have could then come together...now that i look at it seriously, i hink i might actually consider....
=X ok. im offcially insane.
Monday, April 26, 2004
5:17 PM
FAVORITE:
.dayofweek.: sunday
.leastfavoriteday.: monday.detestable
.flower.: black rose.violets...which are,quite obviously,violetXP
.specialskills/talents.: writing i guess. and arguing with ppl.
.shampoo.: herbal essence.and those they make in new zealand.
summer/winter.: winter
.trampolines/swimmingpools.: trampolines.
PERSON WHO LAST
.calledyou.: kway teow i think
.sleptinyourbed.: me.full stop.
.saw you cry.: gen n ale. during the passion.
.madeyoucry.: erm.my best friend nat.but that was err....9 10 years ago?
.went to the movieswith.: alethea.peter pan.
.yelledat.: kavya.
.sentyouanemail.: nat
HAVEYOUEVER
.said I LoveYou and meant it.: define the said love
.gone out in public in your pajamas.: haha..does swimming for bronze badge count???
.kept a secret from everyone.: lots.
.cried during a movie.: yes.passion.lotr.les miserbales.gladiator.
.been to Hawaii.: no
.been to mexico.: nope
.China.: yeah. the toilets suck.
.South America.: noo
.wished you were the opposite sex.: sometimes i guess. when i wanna play soccer/badly need a ps2...and also when im in a cmic shop n whole grp of dumb guys crowd round the shelf, n its embarassing to squeeze btwn them =X
.apples or bananas.: apples
.blue or red.: blue
.spring or fall.: fall
.what are you going to do after you type this.: study english
.what was the last meal you ate.: doritos.eating now
.last noise you heard.: my ice cream cup toppling n oaths from ym mouth
FRIENDSHIP/LOVE
.do you believe in love at first sight.: dun believe in love at all
.do you want children someday.: debatable
.most important thing to you in a friendship.: loyalty.trust.respect
OTHERINFO
.do you speak any other languages.: duh
.last book you read.: arthur-the seeing stone
.name some of your favorite things in your bedroom.: my pillow.mogu.saiyuki file.GBA.comp.
.things you dislike most about yourself.: blunt n sarcastic.yay for me.
.worst feeling in the world.: when everyone around u seems so fake, and u cant be sure ur real either
.who you love.: god
.who you miss.: nat n nigel
USER INFO:
.glasses/contacts.: glasses
.braces.: yep
.you get embarrassed.: when i trip over words in an argument. n when someone insults my anime lol.
.what makes you happy.: god.anime.writing.dreams
.what upsets you.: dreams.fags.phonies.wannabes.snobs.
FINISH THE SENTENCE
.i love to.: write and watch the ink flow, because every stroke brings me closer to what i can envision
.i miss.: nat.gen.happiness.
.i wish.: the world isnt real.
.i hope.: i'll go to heaven soon
.i am annoyed by.: people.
.i am.: different
.i want to be.: a writer who writes with her spirit, so that every sentence carries a mystic aura that screams different.
.i would never.: betray.
.id rather be.: what i am than what others want me to be
.im tired of.: feeling like the most insignificant person in the world.
.i will always be.: the one He loves
LAST
.movie you saw.: The Passion of the Christ
.phone number you called.: joanne's
.last show you watched on tv.: beverly hills cop 3
HAVEYOUEVER
.thought you were going to die.: every day of my life.
.wanted to run away.: mostly
.think that you are beautiful.: i dont care. my words are what is beautiful and everything else doesnt matter.
i dunno. just saw n i like these weird stuff.
just finished reading a compre about slavery in ancient rome. talked about how spartacus led an army of ard 100 slaves tp battle and conquered almost the entire rome. however, dispute broke out among the diff. races and so they disbanded. they reutrned to their homes but were turned awya. eventually they fell in a battle with the roman emperor, and spartacus was killed.
i can see it all now.
the sun blazes like a furious ball of titanic fire in the crimson streaked sky. shadows limned the horizon, blades cutting the heavens like needles upon a pincushion. blood soaks into the sandy ground, and cries of battle resound for miles across. metal clanks upon metal, a screaming, screeching sound-- painful yet sweet. in the midst of it all, a lone warrior stands up to the giant, his sword a meagre fly in the face of the enemy. he swings, but misses. with powerful fists crashing down, he is speared through the heart and out the spine. his mouth gapes open, as he watch3es all he has lived for, fought for, diminish away with his spirit. all his senses comprehend is the irony of it all. rome taken in months, claimed back in a day. the truth and the freedom he fought for-- his hope crucified on a cross.
a lone pearl, a dazzling tear, streams down his cheek. all he has fought for. everything.
everything has turned to dust.
4:22 PM
i dunno wad to say abt this. i jus feel a bit drawn to it. not too good but it was my first try wityh dodge and burn on adobe
this one i quite like. done in charcoal pencils.
-----~**+++xXXXXXxxXXXXxxXXXXXxxXXXxxx+++**~--------------
some ideas for my story i got today(very messed up)=
=>the rogue heir of some rich family has inherited the family mansion from his father. he assumes it is nothing but an old building, but littel does he know something more lurks in the hidden corners of the mansion...
=>a portal rogue takes part in a deadly battle with one of the gods, and loses. she is then banished to a far off realm, where she seeks to survive....
=>a vampire hunter, she seeks out her prey-- an arrogant victorian bloodsucker in the streets of london. however, when she is cornered by the vampire-- weaponless and helpless-- she is given a choice: to become a child of the night. she choses the dark path, and must face the consequences.
=>an actor in a travelling theatre and an excellent scriptwright, he skecthes out a living in the damaged world. all this changes when one rainy night, he searches through an ancient chest, and finds a play that goes beyond the realms of theatrical brilliance-- quite literally
i kinda like the last one. mayb i shall expound and play around with it when i have time. tonight probably. right now, i hav english to study for. have i mentioned how much i love english? needless to say.
haha. glad theres no training tomorrow. i can rest and study.
have u noticed how things seem so messed up lately? i dunno why. it just seems so. i keep feeling very weary of the world. thats why all these gothic era ideas keep popping into my head. and i have this urge to read Spiderwick Chronicles by holly black&lemony snicket(was it?) so strange.....
yeah well. i AM strange.
on my wishlist today::
--the davinci code
--outlined linearts
--raspberry icecream^_^
-tribute to my uncanny immaturity. i dun wanna grow up-
hello=)
i've decided to move here. at least, n one will see this. this is meant to be a private blog, and if u noe ur not sppse 2 b here, then go away.
unlike all my other blogs, this one isnt gonna hav a story, or daily reports of my life, or countless moanings. this blog is my notebook. in here, i will write my ideas, pin up my dreams. in here, the most private solace of my life can be found.
do not violate this, please. if u hav come across this place, i pray u do not steal my ideas because they mean alot to me.
well now that's done, i guess i shall get on to other things. i will post a few pics up for any comments. and then i have story ideas to pen in.
perhaps u noe why im doing this, perhaps u do not. either way, i do not noe do i care.
