Dec 11

Airs mixtes

He could never help but secretly be
A hopeless romantic,
(Just in the way that crickets cannot help but chirp
On a summer night.)

Early mornings
Selling his soul to pen and ink,
Paper and heart,
The coming day seeming irrelevant to all that he knew.
Late nights
Wearing down the experience of his fingers
Songs at the ocean,
Sand everywhere — where does it stop
And fade into the gentle plucking of his guitar?
Detrimental smoke
(Continue strumming)
Stop and listen
(You can't hear a thing.)

He can't help but fall in love
Through the sound of Queen playing gently on the speakers,
Or some forgotten song conceived by the Arctic Monkeys
That has been written by everyone who has ever listened to it
In his room
Accompanied by his thoughts and his words
And the steady ticking of a clock —
Nov 12

Chapter one of Tone Vestige, my novel

(A/N: This isn't the entirety of the first chapter, but it's just a little piece of it, There are a few things that are explained a couple chapters later, but for now here's this.)

Chapter One

“...Come back baby
Back into my arm
We're gettin' tired of hangin' around
Waitin’ around with our heads to the ground
I hear a very gentle sound
Very near yet, very far
Very soft yeah, very clear
Come today, come today…”

-When the Music’s Over by The Doors

Oct 12

Namikk gets stabbed by a fork (an excerpt from my novel.)

   (A/N: This is another excerpt from my novel! It's not in order, this is a piece from the middle, so it might be a bit confusing, but please read it! I'd love feedback!)

   Namikk had truly screwed up this time, and there was no denying it. He had no food, only a few hundred dollars that had to last him for god knows how long, and he was in a strange city he didn’t even know how to pronounce the name of. (Was it pronounced May-tune-shire? Or Mee-ton-shirr? Or something else entirely…) 

   Not to mention it was freezing outside. No, that didn’t even need to be mentioned. He dearly wished that he had taken a warmer coat. A longer one, too, would have been nice. The wad of money in his pants pocket was making him nervous; it was too visible, wasn’t it? He was likely to get robbed.
Oct 07

some drawings of green gender-less aliens

Oct 07

Prologue to Tone Vestige

(A/N: This is the prologue to the novel I'm working on, "Tone Vestige." Be warned, it's a bit... strange.) 

“Yes, star crossed in pleasure the stream flows on by
Yes, as we're sated in leisure, we watch it fly
And time waits for no one, and it won't wait for me
And time waits for no one, and it won't wait for me
Time can tear down a building or destroy a woman's face
Hours are like diamonds, don't let them waste
Time waits for no one, no favors has he
Time waits for no one, and he won't wait for me
Men, they build towers to their passing yes, to their fame everlasting
Here he comes chopping and reaping, hear him laugh at their cheating
And time waits for no man, and it won't wait for me
Yes, time waits for no one, and it won't wait for me
Drink in your summer, gather your corn
The dreams of the night time will vanish by dawn
And time waits for no one, and it won't wait for me
Jul 25

"Jacket Twins" (Excerpt from Tone Vestige, my novel)

   (A/N: Heyy this is just another excerpt from the novel I'm working on! Just a note on the characters, to make it make more sense: Percy is an adult but has a very childlike mind that just doesn't function like what the definition of a "normal" mind would; Kiato really REALLY loves Percy and wants to be his BEST FRIEND, and James hates and distrusts Kiato around Percy for reasons I'm not getting into. Feedback much appreciated!) 

   James viewed the spectacle from a distance, far enough away to not be considered an accomplice in the rather ridiculous situation, but close enough so that he could shout to the two men his opinions, if need be.

   Percy narrowed his eyes at Kiato. "You're wearing a periwinkle coat."

   The man lifted his chin up, a small, amused smile sliding onto his face. "And?"

   "I'm wearing a periwinkle coat!" Percy scowled. 

   "So? We can be jacket twins!" Kiato grinned, and Percy's scowl deepened. 
May 06

Trashcan Man

It was a matter of fact
Something Trashy didn't have 
All he had was a matter of time 
That was running out
Always something of flame
We knew Trashy was to blame 
I guess we never really understood
What he was about 

But his name
Became a game
I remember how we would shout

Come to get rid of the mess of the human race?
Soon you're gonna burn away the town
Are you gonna burn the whole damn world down?"
Young Trashy, Trashy was our clown

"Hey, Trashman
Don't you think it's best you burned off your face?
'Cause we're sick and tired of looking at you cry"
And to this day, I wonder why we felt so big 
When we saw our words leaking out of Trashy's eyes 

It was a matter of love
Something Trashy didn't know
Have I told you all the words we would call him? 
He was a matter of flame
Always hating at the rain 
Audio download:
Trashcan Man.m4a
Mar 28

Bonewhite Sailor

   (A/N: This is another part of my novel that I enjoyed writing... feedback -good and bad- are much appreciated!)

   Kiato stepped into the dimly lit room, his pulse racing. The heavy door slammed shut behind him, and he jumped at the loud noise that seemed to echo off every corner of his mind on agonizing vibrations. When his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he saw the bars that were supposedly keeping him safe from whoever was rotting behind them. "H...hello?" 

   "Come for my head?" A broken voice sounded from somewhere within the darkness of the cell, followed by a fit of manic, raw-sounding giggles. "They say they're gonna kill me, darlin,' any day now, they've been sayin' it for days and days and days and..." 
Mar 27

What is a right?

Daylight swims in puddled rain
Milking Sunday afternoons with pain
Shattering the weakest segment of chain.  
Daylight questions dreamers' answers
Dogs of hellfire, moonlit dancers
Feet pounding the Earthlight into cancer.

We've dug our hands into the dirt
Of society, planted our children there,
Letting grow into this corporate disease;
Is our future of weeds? 
We've grown ourselves off of so much hurt
So will anyone care