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'phantasmagoria,' they call it [May. 18th, 2005|06:35 pm]
[mood | guilty]
[music |Super Drive- Gravitation]

What can I do to so I won't hurt you anymore?
I hurt people. It's one of my few talents. Most of the time, I don't even mean to. It just happens that way. I've been alone for so long that I don't know how to deal with people, with relationships. I don't want to hurt you, but I'm afraid I have to. We have both changed. We will change even more.
It was once a dream of mine- to love and be loved.
Upon waking, I discovered I lived in the Hell we both created. Flames dancing around, licking, biting, burning. Somewhere along the road, my dream became my fever-induced nightmare. It hurt so much.
But now, we have a chance to be rid of the pain and suffering. We can choose to return to the fallacy that once was, or we can wake up to our mistakes and count our losses...turn our lives back into the individual works of art they used to be.

phantasmagoria-
phan·tas·ma·go·ri·a ( P ) Pronunciation Key (fn-tzm-gôr-, -gr-) also phan·tas·ma·go·ry (fn-tzm-gôr, -gr)
n. pl. phan·tas·ma·go·ri·as, also phan·tas·ma·go·ries

1 A fantastic sequence of haphazardly associative imagery, as seen in dreams or fever.
A constantly changing scene composed of numerous elements.
2 Fantastic imagery as represented in art.

Ignorance may be bliss, but Pain is beautiful.
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tongue tied [Apr. 27th, 2005|08:32 pm]
[mood | grateful]
[music |Wait a Million Years- The Grass Roots]

What is happening to me? Hell if I know.
Yes, I often ask rhetorical questions and then answer myself. How sad is that? Very...Damn.
I realised a few very important things this past weekend-
1. People change.
2. I was naive.
3. Some things are valuable to know and will cost you dearly to find out.

These revelations only cost me about $200, a lost cell phone, and 4 hours on the road.
I got off lucky, Fate.

Well, at least I know things now...and I got my phone back, only slightly water-damaged.

Love has set me free. I have been purged.

Thank you.
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Fables and Dolls [Mar. 6th, 2005|10:30 pm]
[mood | dorky]
[music |Blind Game Again- Bad Luck (Gravitation)]

Yeah, I finally beat Fable. Now I'm just going around killing everybody and charging rent. Yeah, I *own* Oakvale, bitches. I also took over the world by killing my blind sister...Don't look at me like that. It had to be done. Playing landlord can only be so much fun for a while, yanno? So I made a 'me' doll. It actually does look kinda like me...except for the wings. But if my wings were *visible,* they'd look exactly like that. Other than that, it's pretty accurate. Hmm, except I'm not experienced in this 'lj' thing enough to know *how* to put the damn thing in this entry. Oh well. C'est la vie.

Maybe I'll figure it out one day and edit it in.

 

S_A

 

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breakfast of champions [Mar. 6th, 2005|11:14 am]
[mood | frustrated]
[music |I Walk the Line- Johnny Cash]

I had an odd dream last night, but the sad thing is that it's one of the most normal dreams I've ever had.
I was in the checkout line at the supermarket to buy some tampons, a soda, and ketchup (yeah, I don't know why). I only had ten dollars in change, so I couldn't afford everything, so I told the checkout girl to just get the ketchup. I guess she took pity on me and my three items, however sad they were. She told me that she would just ring up the ketchup and soda (a lovely ginger ale, might I add), and she'd throw in the tampons for free.
I can understand the tampons and soda....But the ketchup???
I don't understand myself most of the time...
How odd.

A_S
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old beginnings [Mar. 4th, 2005|07:25 pm]
[mood | melancholy]
[music |Vesti La Guibba]

There are two sides to my personality. Sometimes, it's like I lead two lives- Lives that are bound to each other, but cannot touch.
There are two sides to my mind. Sometimes, it's like I have someone else living in my head- Who is this Stranger?
I have two journals- One for general thoughts that my friends have access to...
and this one..with such wonderful anonymity that I could be anybody.

I *am* anybody.

I am the two year old child, sitting in his chair with spaghetti everywhere but in his mouth.
I am the twelve year old girl, crying from her first heartbreak.
I am the twenty-two year old boy, drinking himself stupid to forget the pain.
I am the thirty-two year old woman, disgusted with herself for yet another failed marriage.
I am the forty-two year old father, wondering where the time has gone.
I am the fifty-two year old grandmother, watching her family grow up.
I am the sixty-two year old grandfather, secretly writing a book and his will.
I am the seventy-two year old eyesore, crying herself to sleep while thinking what could have been.
I am the eighty-two year old monstrosity, pretending to be twenty-two again.
I am the ninety-two year old crone, watching everybody around her die.
I am Death.
I *am* everybody.
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