.tales from the river/etc.

moving

2012-01-30T00:40:00.001+08:00

it always matters to me that I'm going somewhere
somewhere that will bring me to you
somewhere to leave these people and these
things behind.
it always matters that I move faster
than a man running: the cars
do not matter
they are not real
but I will not meet
a gaze for more than a moment
not until I reach you now.
wind and the world.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

Prelude

2012-01-14T14:56:00.001+08:00

There are things that live in the spaces between worlds
Creatures that follow between the planes
That dwell in the spaces of nothing
That feast on the echoes of memory
Beings who gnaw on meanings of existence
And they move, and we breathe, and they go unseen.

afterwards

2012-01-06T19:45:00.001+08:00

I stumbled into the nightFollowing your footprints in the soft sandas they were washed away by the tide and the seawhile above false stars twinkledleaving reflections of diamonds in the watersand I sat down to restand you came to meand told me to walk with youbut my hand remained emptyand the hole would not be filledand even as I struggled for a last embracefell into the seafoamswept into the oceancarried out to seatreading watergrowing wearyhearing you sing.

2012-01-01T00:42:00.000+08:00

I've seen mountains and rivers
Valleys never touched
covered in felt softness.
So you walked slowly
the very air holding
you feeling alone in the mist.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

RUST, FEEL, BEGUN, HEAL, PAY, WROTE

2011-12-31T20:31:00.001+08:00

wishes are wishes
as ashes to dust
and I have plenty
covered with

washed by tears
tempered by steel
piercing like nails
I must not

make no decisions
leave me with none
forget what you have
already

making we watch
telling me how to feel
loving me hurts
hurts never

silence is golden
golden is gray
blinding and then
that price I'll

leave me a message
leave me a note
say that you care
to you I

______

2011-12-31T13:35:00.000+08:00

skies of grey-gold glowing gather
intertwined ellipses never touching
leaving open noise narrating you
entering entropied emerging drained
not far from here the storm rages
careful deconstruction-who cares
everyone thinks for themself in the end.

ocean

2011-12-31T01:53:00.001+08:00

we are all drowning
sinking in an ocean of space
suffocating for the lack of love
next to each other
I am here
By your side
Always
Hold on,
Hold on.
Please hold on.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

Dancing

2011-12-29T16:58:00.001+08:00

and pantomine:
shadows casting figures swept along
by tangled string dangling
from open wires.
smoke and mirrors:
fire in the scaffolding
walking each step falling
in love and hate
and out the other side:
and breathe.
(we are but acting to act, or the craft has become, or we have.)

In short.

2011-12-20T14:24:00.001+08:00

I stumbled along forest trails
meandering on stone roads
and dirt paths
Living off whatever I found
Shouting out
to remember words
To record memories in the air.

I found a garden and you were inside.
Tall metal gates would surround
Like some relic of
Man's ideal.

Climbed the fences
Walked to you
And learned your name
and saw.

We lived in that garden
Occasionally coming across
broken remains
Climbing over them
Helping each other
The stars were our guide.

Storms came and blew you from me.
I ran
And I fell
and you found yourself outside
And I found the garden another ruin.

You stood there
Looked at me
across the wall in desperation you had finally found
the means to climb.

I found it had grown.
It had grown as the garden had.
I could not cross it.

Saw you walk
away to another
place as I broke myself on the wall.
Saw you smile
back at me as the night came
Forgot words and memory.
And I was quiet.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

its night

2011-10-27T00:47:00.001+08:00

its night
the sky
is tearing open
it strikes
and light
is searing in

the breeze
becomes
a sudden gale
its cold
the dark
begins to weep

colours and lights and odd little things
bells and whistles of small little things
folding in on themselves
collapsing into themselves
drawn into my heart
to try to fill the void

the room glows white.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

30

2011-10-01T13:42:00.001+08:00

the sunlight never felt so cold.
the road never sounded so loud.
the air never tasted so empty.

words never were so far.
life never was so lost.
death never is a choice.

the worst part
is not being with you
not being accepted as yours
not having the greatest gift
so great and gone.

The Way Home

2011-09-22T17:09:00.001+08:00

Waiting. Hoping. Leaving. You walk out quickly and set your bag down for a moment within the dispersing crowd. You close your eyes and ignore them. Wear the jacket which is as much a protection as a garment. Like a charm. Like the empty expression on your face, it protects you.

Your burden resumes its place on your shoulder, dragging you down. You walk with weariness almost comfortable in its familiarity. You embrace the silence and loneliness. Nothing else is there.

Someone knocks into you and apologises. You mutter a reply and hold yourself smaller to squeeze through the faceless crowd. Someone tries to talk to you. He does not know it but you wish he did not exist. Not that you hate him-no, you don't care enough for that. Its a cold resentment-things would simply be simpler if he hadn't tried to get involved. He smiles at you and says he thinks he's starting to understand, that it goes without saying.

You tell him he has no idea what he is talking about (really, he could not), and board your bus.

You get on the bus and make too pleasant small talk with two faces your recognise. But they're not really the one you want to see. And they both know that the feeling is mutual. Its okay. You sit next to each other and do your separate things. Your own escapes.

You decide to leave someone a message, but delete it from your mind before it is even complete. You consider leaving one with someone else. You decide against it. You think of the story you are reading- that of a dead man. The latest book in a long series you started long ago and resumed when the silences came back.

And all this time you were talking to yourself. Now you write it all down.

Synesthesia

2011-08-03T23:12:00.001+08:00

wondering what races
through your mind
as the scent of the touch of you
the taste of the sound of each syllable
rolling off your tongue
hangs in the air
like fireworks
bright and hot
but beautiful
burning
breathe.

On the Wing Full Cover

2011-06-13T22:00:00.001+08:00

Today's Song

2011-06-12T22:44:00.001+08:00

Garagebanding

2011-06-05T22:10:00.001+08:00

While my mixer's broken
I'll find other ways to write them
These are songs that found their way through
From my mind and all into
These sounds and recollections of synthsound
That've been waiting for far too long
Got some help with one of them now
And it sounds even better to bow
Cause it feels like broken mirrors
And sweet candy is so near us
If we reach out with our hands now
maybe we can grab it somehow
Maybe we can taste the sugar
or maybe sawdust is the flavour.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

Leaves

2011-06-02T12:10:00.001+08:00

On winter's eve
the frost touched still
the leaves upon
my windowsill.

And here where
the sun doth shine
I watched leaves fall
wondering "where was mine?"

Til break of dawn
I watched them fall
upon the road
where they still call.

So where were you?
And where was I?
On that cold day
Under that grey sky.

and fade away

2011-06-02T12:09:00.001+08:00

as the evening flickers to gold
I wait, false tears dripping
from real-enough eyes
watching true words
spin their tale-
and the world burns in orange
and fades

To Put To Song

2011-04-24T20:00:00.001+08:00

The following will be put to song

do we know if we will see the dawn?
do we know anything at all.
do we know if we can find a way
can we make it through the night to day?

we will find our paths in moonlit songs
as the birds serenade our rights and wrongs
pick up pieces that we left aside
til we find no more need to hide.

do we find ourselves lost and alone?
do we find a hint of what was shown.
do we find what we've been searching for
we will walk even as it does pour.

we will find our paths in moonlit songs
as the birds serenade our rights and wrongs
pick up pieces that we left aside
til we find no more need to hide.

c d e d c b c b c
e g e d c b c b a
c d e d c b c b c
e g e d c d c b c

c d e d d c c b a
c d e dbc d c b c
c d e d d c c b a
c d e d c b a g

and I was thinking;

2011-04-16T19:11:00.001+08:00

and I found myself thinking
thinking of you.
I found myself singing
a little song for two

and I looked down that lane
memory street,
found myself walking,
back to when we'de meet.

and we'de laugh as we gathered,
we'de smile as we spoke.
twas a game that we played then,
until it all broke.

5 Reasons Why It Is Really Very Important That You Vote

2011-04-14T00:33:00.001+08:00

1. The person you believe in the most is obviously the best for the job.

2. Everyone voting, like you, is totally impartial and objective and able to choose the candidate who best represents the best interests of our college best- thus you know best who to vote for and your vote will best reflect this.

3. The person you elect will immediately have real and useful power and will use it wisely for the benefit of all.

4. The people you are voting for are much superior in thought and ethics than the rest of us and the rest of the candidates.

5. Your vote really matters.

no seriously I'm joking

2011-04-13T23:57:00.001+08:00

Just to prove anyone can make a political poster. hahahaa

note the jacket=not allowed. Hahaahahahaahah.

Heh. Once again, disclaimer: this is all a joke. But someone requested I post this.

credit to Amy for the original picture

The Man Who Had It All- Introduction Draft 1

2011-04-13T19:34:00.001+08:00

An old idea. You'll see:]

He sat down, and he began to write. He had not done this in a long time.

As the nib of his pen scratched the paper, and in unsteady strokes the ink began to flow, so did his thoughts, drifting in the black sea of the soul to the first time. The first mistake. The first turn down the path that would lead him to where he was. Today. Tomorrow? Yesterday. They were all the same.

Endless grey. Endless gloom. Days of waiting... waiting for?

His thoughts slipped through his fingers like fine, fine sand the colour of gold. Slowly he gathered them, like autumn leaves strewn about by the wind. He felt like a man clutching at straws.

He had plenty of time.

It was time to begin.

Not so long ago, in a little flat by sixteenth avenue, whose lights glowed sickly-sweet inviting in the gathering dark, whose mouth was a weathered green door with a polished brass latch, who smelled of the man it swallowed every night and released every morning- not so long ago, in this very flat, a man met a girl in the night.

STAND.

2011-04-12T09:32:00.001+08:00

Disclaimer: I am not truly an anarchist or mean these things in such a radical way. heh. my stand against the cjc council elections tho, is that anyone who wants to be in a position of power probably isnt suitable for it.

We are the people and we will not be silenced by those who seek to oppress us.

I speak today to plead with you, my people, my friends, my family. Don't vote in the council elections.

Listen my brethren! We must not let these foolish floundering idiots con us into letting them take power- just so it looks good on their record.

We don't need leaders who want to look good, who bullshit and bluff their way through all the hard questions, who say that they know how to help us while they know nothing.

Sure, some of them know something. That something is wrong. No people can flourish under rulers from above them. They are students yes, but in becoming this "Council" they have elevated themselves above us. They make themselves out to be special, high up and mighty.

Their pride will be their downfall. Speak what they wish about representing us or serving us, the very fact that they stand above us as hopeful leaders shows that their words are lies.

I have a dream. That one day, we will stand. The people will stand. We are the people. The people are us. Let us throw off the shackles of oppression. Let us rise up. Throw down the vote. Reject the false democracy. Stand up for the people. For your brothers and sisters. Don't vote. Watch as they fall in their pride.

Don't vote. One small action, but together, with all of us, they face the power of the people. We can bring down the false.

And as people we will rule ourselves. And we will live, and we will flourish. Without these false, prideful, self-serving leaders.

Spread the word.

the art of flying (simplified)

2011-04-07T23:31:00.001+08:00

The Art of Flying

2011-04-07T18:49:00.000+08:00

Undisclosed Desires (Retabbed)

2011-03-24T19:39:00.001+08:00

I retabbed Muse's Undisclosed Desires, accurately:D

For the band.

undisclosed desires

-muse

Synth and Bass Tab by Martin Chong

CAPITAL LETTERS: SHARP

c4=middle c (a4=a below middle c, octave numbers start at every a)

(brackets are triplets)

[S: string pluck/synth] [B: plucked bass]

Intro (2x)

S: (g4 A5 g4) D5+D6 (g4 A5 g4) (g4 A5 g4) D5+D6 (g4 A5 g4)

B: D2 (D2 D2 D2)D2--------------------- D2 (D2 D2 D2)D2--------------------

S: (g4 A5 g4) d5+d6 (g4 A5 g4) (g4 A5 g4) d5+d6 (g4 A5 g4)

B: g2 (g2 g2 g2)g2---------------------- g2 (g2 g2 g2)g2-----------------------

Verse (4x)

S: (g4 A5 g4) D5+D6 A5 g4 (g4 A5 g4) D5+D6 A5 g4

B: D2 (D2 D2 D2)D2---------------------- D2 (D2 D2 D2)D2--------------------

S: (g4 A5 g4) d5+d6 A5 g4 (g4 A5 g4) d5+d6 A5 g4

B: g2 (g2 g2 g2)g2---------------------- g2 (g2 g2 g2)g2-----------------------

Chorus (x4) [slap bass]

S: (D4 g4 D4) A4 (D4 g4 D4) A4

B: c2 (c2 c2 c2)c2 -------D2 (D2 D2 D2)D2-------

S: (A4 d4 A4) g4 (A4 d4 A4) g4

B: g2 (g2 g2 g2)g2-------A2 (A2 A2 A2)A2---------

Outro/Second Verse (2x)/(4x) [pluck bass again]

S: ____________D5+D6 A5 g4 ____________D5+D6 A5 g4

B: D2 (D2 D2 D2)D2---------------------- D2 (D2 D2 D2)D2--------------------

S: ___________d5+d6 A5 g4 __________d5+d6 A5 g4

B: g2 (g2 g2 g2)g2---------------------- g2 (g2 g2 g2)g2------------------------

I know you've suffered

But I don't want you to hide

It's cold and loveless

I won't let you be denied

Soothing

I'll make you feel pure

And trust me

You can be sure

Chorus:

Cm D# Gm A#

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart

Cm D# Gm A#

I want to recognize your beauty's not just a mask

Cm D# Gm A#

I want to exorcise the demons from your past

Cm D# Gm A# D#

I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

You trick your lovers

That you're wicked and divine

You may be a sinner

But your innocence is mine

Please me

Show me how it's done

Tease me

You are the one

Chorus

Cm Gm x2

Please me

Show me how it's done

Trust me

You are the one

Chorus

D# Gm x2

The Kaoss Project

2011-03-18T22:27:00.001+08:00

Hey! My first album is up on bandcamp for download with no minumum price.

CLICKIE

Please take a listen:D You dont need to download to listen.

What They Will Tell You

2011-03-15T13:23:00.001+08:00

hide your doubts
and clothe your fears
hold your heart
away from tears

don't look up
the lights are bright
take a breath
but never fight

just be strong
and do as you're told
it won't be long
til it's time to be bold

none of this true
none of this false
you're meant to confuse
as your heart calls

let me tell you
what to think
be well little one
and fall and sink.

Merely Insane [to be edited]

2011-03-01T01:11:00.001+08:00

Rest your head upon this cushion
Rest your head and go to sleep
It's far to late to scream and push him
little girls and boys should be deep
in dreams now.

If you find you're still awake now
Maybe you're just strange indeed,
I have no songs for such weird children
you must not my words at all heed.
I am most

Mad at the fact that you look at me strangely
Without blinking and with your smile
You seem to have lost all sense of your manners
And still you stare at me
Like a ghost

There is white fluff coming from your
Back, and strings are trailing from your clothes
Your button eyes are insulting to see now
Please close them 'fore I rejoice
in madness

It is too late to stop me from talking
I found you left on the street
Sat you down by the bedpost that corner
Cause there you won't feel the heat.
I know that

The moon is out and I feel changes
Most namely it's a fraction brighter
I'm seeing your grin turn so bitter
Why must you hate me
for my sin?

Fear not for I am

Merely insane.

Interruption

2011-02-21T17:52:00.001+08:00

Sitting as the wind blows softly
Then the door in silence opens
Louder than the ear can hear
And with more force than can be felt.

Watching as the emptiness is broken
By the footsteps and loud breaths
Slowly, quickly, more come in then
Break the quiet into words.

Going Through The Motions

2011-02-16T17:08:00.001+08:00

Sitting alone in a dark room thinking
That these windows are always open
That this door is truly open
Just like those of my heart.
It so easy to find nothing
And so hard to look for you
It's in these quiet moments
That I realise the simple truth.

I know that it's wasting your time
I know that I shouldn't say
All these things that sound so stupid
But each word helps fill the day

Just going through the motions of love
Talking a bit or more today
I know that you love me baby
I know that I love you too.
I just wish that we could spend some
time together once again.

I don't want to talk about it
I don't want to think too much
I just want for one little thing
I just want for you to stay.

Every Breath

2011-02-04T16:18:00.001+08:00

turn your head and look
cause here behind you is me
I wandered in with the sun
uninvited, now you see

I told you it's okay
to live and let yourself love
the only rule is this
remember to ask above

trust that we'll be fine
as if you know we will
I'll be waiting here
here for you until

the sun and stars collide
and every single breath
that you exhale keeps us
a moment more from death

Feel Your Love

2011-02-04T00:03:00.001+08:00

When I go through the motions of the day
When on my cold and empty bed I lay
When I feel the wind on my skin
It's hard not to hear your voice above the din.

When I look upon the stars that shine so bright
Like little eyes of angels lit up in light
When I see that you're not here to stay
I dream and hope to find the words to say.

To call you back
To bring you here
To ask that you let me hold you in my arms.

To call you back
To bring you here
To kiss you and feel the love within.

Its a poem or a song or a letter.

Glass

2011-02-01T22:19:00.001+08:00

I had a heart of glass
A moving clear fragile mass
Gave it to you to hold
Forever for you I told.

My heart of glass it broke
Thrown to the floor it shook
Falling apart I tried
To keep it in a box

Many times I saw as
Each time you smiled as it has
Broken again, I cried
Tore up and bled as you sighed.

Sometimes you cried as well
Then I wouldn't let my face tell
Of all the pain I felt
And of it now.

Each time you held me as
I held you too.

Sketches of Amy:]

2011-01-21T19:45:00.000+08:00

Magic.

2011-01-21T19:28:00.000+08:00

I just can't stop can I?

2011-01-21T18:27:00.000+08:00

Another sketch of Someone:]

2011-01-21T16:56:00.000+08:00

Wistful

2011-01-20T09:17:00.000+08:00

Something I drew. Of Someone I know.

The Golden Floor (Snow Patrol Cover)

2011-01-16T08:11:00.000+08:00

Check out this video on YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5vkbk7Dy6I&feature=youtube_gdata_player

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

Little Rowboat (To the tune of row, row, row your boat)

2011-01-10T21:04:00.002+08:00

Sail, sail, sail away
Past the daybreak end

Close your eyes to drift away
Dreams begin to mend.

Bail out water as you sink
Deep below the waves

Take the time for a think
As you float away

The way you said it would all hold
It seems too long ago

The wind was singing in its cold
It tried to bring you low

Every rock and every sway
Of sea and sky to you

Brought you so much further away
From all I could do.

Dawn and Reconciliation

2011-01-02T00:39:00.003+08:00

Live
Breathe
Dream
Love

Live (After the day has broke uh-)
Breathe (-pon the shores of our love)
Dream
Love

Live (After the sea between our)
Breathe (hearts disappeared above)
Dream
Love

Live (We take our time to meet in)
Breathe (memory and in light)
Dream
Love

Live (The taste of honey and the)
Breathe (flame that burns for us bright)
Dream
Love

Nightfall

2010-12-29T23:15:00.001+08:00

if you stand still the world moves around you
if you breathe in you can taste the time
if you watch and wait through the thunder
you will find not a moment is gone.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

How I Fall Apart

2010-12-25T22:26:00.002+08:00

Filling up every sense with noise

Taking the time to lose my voice

Not a moment to spare or waste

I'm free as a bird caught in haste.

I miss your loving touch

Try to bridge the hole with much

Nothing makes an empty space

More of a home to this pace.

Resting in dreams of frenzied thought

Needless to say I've gone and fought

With apathy and won the war

Leaving me bruised and sore.

I need your kiss to save

Enough of my life to bathe

My soul in your healing glow

Stay for awhile and this I'll show.

Holding on to moments lost

Whenever our hopes are tossed

To the wind as plans are made

Not for us to choose, its said.

I've got to find a way to rest

Slow down and find my best

Give a moment and you'll see

That loving you is where I'll be.

As I Lie Here

2010-12-18T02:32:00.001+08:00

As I lie here
and listen to this old love song
after a journey across the sea
Back home,
but you're not with me.

I watch the light glisten on the glass
As the piano enchants the night
And spins a song that to me
Sings of you

And as I lie here
I can see your face
your sweet smile
and taste
the touch of your lips
on mine.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

Always Know

2010-12-10T17:04:00.000+08:00

Shadows chase midnight by moonlight
As ribbons of rivers spread wide
Standing here under the pure sky
Leaves my tongue completely tied.

Wishes are meant to be spoken
As whispers are shouted this way
Standing here hearing your heartbeat
Makes me burst with the words to say.

As my road leads away from you
the sun will follow your tread
Wait for me as I will for you
dream of me each night when in bed.

I'll cross the sea and the ocean
to somewhere touched by the snow
But in my heart if you will listen
I will love you- always know.

I will miss you, always know.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

In A Moment

2010-11-22T23:09:00.000+08:00

In a moment I shall be totally revamping my blog.

I will be slowly re-adding all my links, fixing any broken and adding my widgets again.

Don't Panic.

Songs To Do

2010-11-04T17:51:00.001+08:00

Songs for after the O Level

Piano Covers (All instruments including vocals played on piano):
You're All I Have
You Could Be Happy
Yellow
Set Down Your Glass
Looking Glass
To Die For
Memories
How To Save A Life
Clocks
Vertigo
Good Riddance
Don't Panic
Bodysnatchers
Desert Rose
I'll Hold My Breath
Starry Eyed
Remedy

Instrumental Covers (Replicated as far as possible):
Starlight
The Lightning Strike

Remixes/Modified Covers (My take on a song):
Lovers In Japan
Everything You Want
Please Just Take These Photos From My Hands
Set The Fire To The Third Bar
Lifeboats
I'm Yours
Under The Moonlight
Bad Romance
Shut Your Eyes (Redo)
Fields Of Gold

0riginal Songs:
We shall see.

Hopefully I have the time. This list isn't definitive.

Take Heart, Friend.

2010-10-23T16:53:00.001+08:00

It's been a long journey
Walking from start to end.
It's been a hard time,
Time to make or mend.

Now as we march to the battle
The final one we'll fight
Just hold on in and give your best
We're going to see the light.

Nothing can't be done
If you try your best
The time is past for fear
Let yourself do the rest.

Its true that we've had failures
True we lost something
But in this last hour
We're going to get everything.

Never let your soul drown
nor let your heart let go
Your will is what will keep you
sometimes you will feel it: you'll feel low.

But its just these final moments
We have to prove it all
Not that we know what's needed
But that we'll never fall.

So let your work come to fruition
Let your toil come to bear
The fruits of labours you have worked for
They're waiting just there.

Just around the corner
Just hold on and you'll see
Just a little longer
A little longer til
We're free.

Unsung

2010-10-22T07:46:00.001+08:00

My head throbs with unending pain
stems from my heart, seeps into my brain.
You tell me what you want to say
I follow you everyday.

My eyes burn as they run out of tears
I've lost all my hopes and my fears
You love me in your own way
I break for you everyday.

It's not true that I don't care
It isn't right that I am here
But after all of this is said
I have no time for this dear.

I have no time
No time to fall down
I do not want
To hurt you once again
I have no choice
but to phrase it this way

Cause I don't want to lie to you
If it hurts enough I stop feeling too
And I've got no time
to spend on this
Just wish that
I could kiss

you.

(Please just understand
That I love you but this time
It's one time too much for me
I don't dare to let you see)

My head throbs with unending pain
stems from my heart, seeps into my brain.
You tell me what you want to say
I follow you everyday.

My eyes burn as they run out of tears
I've lost all my hopes and my fears
You love me in your own way
I break for you everyday.,

I have no time
No time to fall down
I do not want
To hurt you once again
I have no choice
but to phrase it this way

Cause I don't want to lie to you
If it hurts enough I stop feeling too
And I've got no time
to spend on this
And after all I miss

you.

Tired

2010-10-11T23:43:00.002+08:00

Every song has a ending verse
This blessing has its own curse
Every one has a breaking point
I'm holding it in.

Every night we go separate ways
Waiting for the break of day
Every minute is loneliness
I'm falling apart.

Every word turns to broken glass
The fear doesn't ever pass
Every moment I need you
I'll wait for you now.

It's hard to smile
When all I want is
To run from this.

I don't know how to hold you more
Than simply warm and safe for
The times that are coming dear
You need to face now.

I will help you to get through this
I promise that you won't wish
That I hadn't tried to touch
Your life with my own.

Now baby hold tight onto hope
Cause time is a fraying rope.
And patience the only strength
That love can add to.

I'm Mumbling Here

2010-10-10T22:15:00.001+08:00

I find it sad to see
That every one like me
Falls to the trap of hate
Or to quiet anguish take.

Is it so hard to give
Life a chance to show
That if you love truth well
You will always know.

That even when it hurts,
Or when you break
That everyone goes through
Their own little fate.

And that if you, hold hope.
within your palm
Bring it into your heart,
with faith as well.

You will find that you'll
have a good story to tell.

And if you don't then you
Can be happy instead.

Headache.

2010-10-09T21:56:00.003+08:00

Leave me to wither in this darkened place
Tasting blood as it beads, falls from my face.
I won't take any of your time at all,
Remember that it is all fine to fall.

Spare me just a glance, a passing look
My eyes meet yours as I drop my old book.
I will steal just a minute of your day,
Just recall that I find it hard to pay.

Take my hand and pick me up to embrace
My skin is warm as we're near face to face.
I will ask for an hour now with you,
Forgetting echoes of fear and pain too.

just experimenting with blank verse and a simple idea. Felt a need to post something. Personally i think this is really bad:x

When I'm Alone

2010-09-21T15:52:00.000+08:00

When I'm alone is when I play
the sound of music helps me stay
In the empty home again
play on keys to mute the pain

And as the songs memories hold to
the every note that rings out true
Help me feel the love that's there
even then you're everywhere

So I pick up the pace
let my concert fill this space
In my head, in my heart
as long as I hear, not apart.

I'de dance with the sound itself
weave the light into my wealth
The phrases of words that sing
dreams of you I hope they bring.

Typography

2010-09-19T13:06:00.002+08:00

Just some pictures from my deviantart.

I'm thinking of using similar techniques to standardize all links on the left of this blog and by making them into buttons.

Stay Awhile

2010-09-11T20:46:00.001+08:00

Stay Awhile

there is a darker place
deep within the void
away from fear and violence.
where the dreamers go
to hide among the snow
untouched by cold silence.

in this place you'll find
that strangers find their way
down to the new-born haven.
here I find my place
as the shadows chase
to leave all scores even.

as we meet again
with only lives to mend
would your kiss heal all my heartbreak?
I give to you my love
pray you find some hope
in the dance that we make.

it is a true sad tale
that in this day and age
the darkness brings more comfort.
the everyday routine
you find yourself stuck in
it breaks the soul with hurt.

The Tale of the Wanderer Re-imagined: An Introduction

2010-09-10T01:09:00.000+08:00

The Tale of the Wanderer Re-imagined: An Introduction

I was never a child for long. They took care of that. They took my fear, my loneliness, my pain and my torment, and took it all away. They took away my memory, my past, my name. They gave me a purpose as theirs: throwing me on missions and quests never meant to be completed. Some helped me, yes, with gifts and small blessings. But I was their jester, their pawn and their tool. I was special, they said. Chosen, unique, gifted. All I knew is that I could see them when no one else could. And because of that they took my fragmented world and moulded it into the shape they desired.

They called me the Wanderer. A joke really. I wandered from place to place, perpetually lost, but never out of their reach. I travelled to the ends of the sphere and sometimes beyond, to carry out tasks for those who commanded me. I wandered not only in body, but in spirit, in mind. I lost my way for theirs a long time ago. But now I'm making a new one.

Oh, what is that you say? Who is this "Them", this mysterious "They?"

Faeries. The whole crazy, insane, dangerous and deviously-irritating lot of them.

But this, this is my story.

I thought I might start out redoing the Tale of the Wanderer. Just to get the direction clear. I will be revisiting each poem (recap: the tale of the wanderer was a trilogy of "novels" i wrote over several years in the form of many poems, on this blog, a long time ago) in order to bring the entire thing into a novelette of three parts and then hopefully publish under Creative Commons on an ebook store, just for the heck of it. Here goes.

42 things for after the O Levels

2010-09-05T20:02:00.001+08:00

Tomorrow I begin a mad rush to study for the O Levels. So here's my list of what I'm going to do after them. Looking forward to this.

To-Do List for After the O Levels
1.Throw a party
2. Form a band
3. Scan all chords, sheet music and notation and archive them in Ipad
4. Organise and Catalogue Library
5. Get Amy a Skype-enabled phone/device
6. Compile and edit Book
7.Compile Kaichou Wa Maid Sama! for Amy
8. Make money as a photographer
9. Build-a-Bear with Amy for Christmas
10. Choose a JC
11. Apply for the Humanities Scholarship
12. Master Drum Synthesizer
13. Learn all Songs from Archive
14. Obtain Grade Eight in ABRSM Piano
15. Teach Synthesizer/Keyboards to Prisca, Alison and anyone else who is interested.
16. Cycle around Singapore
17. Learn to sing
18. Write, record and sell an original song on the Itunes Store
19. Rewrite and complete the Tale of the Wanderer in mixed prose and poetry and publish on the Feedbooks and IBooks stores for free download
20. Learn to cook better
21. Hold a Public Concert with Band
22. Make mock Movie trailer with Amy, Angel, Tian and Lorraine
23. Rescue comics and books from under the stairs and sort them into Library with Michele
24. Finish the Dresden Files
25. Buy a Wah pedal
26. Throw a Beach Party
27. Organise a Picnic in West Coast Park
28. Spend lots of time with that Special Someone
29. Serve in Church
30. Find and purchase the perfect jacket
31. Make bestselling RJDJ scene
32. Organise a movie-marathon sleepover
33. Get an article published in a major newspaper
34. Make people happy
35. Master Touch-based Synthesis
36. Write more stories and poems
37. Find viable and important uses for the word "idiosyncrasies"
38. Go on a hike around Singapore with friends
39. Work out
40. Camp at a friend's house
41. Find and purchase the perfect Christmas Presents
42. Make Her happy

Not in Chronchological order or level of Importance.

Muse Map of the Problematique Instrumental Cover

2010-09-01T19:38:00.002+08:00

No video, but still. :D

My instrumental cover of Muse's Map of the Problematique

I FINISHED IT! WHOOOO! Done by ear.

okay so its a little different, but its all on ax-synth+mini kaoss pad+garageband so excuse me. haha.

Lyrics:

Fear
And panic in the air
I want to be free
From desolation and despair
And I feel
Like everything I saw
Is being swept away
When I refuse to let you go

I can't get it right
Get it right
Since I met you

Loneliness be over
When will this loneliness be over?

Life
Will flash before my eyes
So scattered and lost
I want to touch the other side
And no one
Thinks they are to blame
Why can't we see
That when we bleed we bleed the same?

I can't get it right
Get it right
Since I met you

Loneliness be over
When will this Loneliness be over?

Loneliness be over
When will this Loneliness be over?

Swan Part Four- Cue the Music

2010-08-31T22:19:00.002+08:00

Liam stretched in the early morning dark, and his fingertips brushed something warm and soft. He turned, and saw Swan, lying half off the bed. Sliding a hand across her delightfully warm skin, he lay her back on the mattress, pulling the covers over her carefully.

He did not notice the dried blood on her fingertips.

Getting the kinks out of his back, he moved to the table by the bed, lit a new candle from his pack, and began to work.

~

Swan leapt out of bed, near-mad with the need to leave the small, confined cabin. Seeing Liam at her desk, she restrained the urge to claw again at the stone walls, and managed to squeeze out the words she needed.

"Let me out"

Liam looked at Swan, nodded somewhat absentmindedly, and lay the strange piece of machinery he was working on down on the table. Rummaging through his pack, he withdrew a corked glass vial from a small compartment, uncorked it and sniffed it quickly. Glancing out of the window, he flicked the contents of the vial towards the wall where her door had been. His aim was true, and a colourless liquid lined the intersection of the wall with the ceiling. The liquid dripped down, spreading across the stone, and was absorbed by it. With a soft hissing sound, the wall dissolved, leaving behind a small puddle which soon disappeared.

Swan nearly kicked the door open, but instead found her hand on the handle, which was miraculously untouched by the effects of the liquid. Opening the door with a twist, she burst into the cool morning air with a sigh. It was not as good as the night, but it was something.

Swan glanced back to the cottage to see that the door closed again, and, peeking through her window, she saw that Liam was working.

Swan shrugged off her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the ground. Stepping onto the smooth stones of the stream's bed, she settled down into the streamlet that ran from the lake past the cabin, letting the shallow waters wash away the blood, sweat and sleep of the night. It was like being born again. She finally felt human. Clean, comfortable, and, she realised, at home.

Be careful what you think, she chided herself.

You don't want to lose yourself do you?

For once, Swan was not sure she could answer herself.

It was then that Liam came out of the cottage. He was grinning widely, cradling something small and metallic in his hands. A wire ran from the object to another device on his hip. These items and grin, along with his hair which half stood, half flopped across his face, gave Liam the look of a dangerous madman.

Swan wondered how far this description would be from the truth. He was, after all, rather strange. Then she remembered her nakedness, and grabbed for her clothes. It seemed to matter more now.

Her clothes, however, had had the audacity to be blown straight towards Liam by the wind.

Amber and the Star: Finished

2010-08-30T23:24:00.000+08:00

Amber and the Star

Prelude

The stars watched the faerie child.

It was the night before her thirteenth birthday. Watching out of the window, once her mother's, now hers, she caught a glimpse of a falling star. Rubbing her eyes, she yawned wearily. She wanted to see the dawn of her maidenhood. Yet her body betrayed her. Her eyelids fluttered and she consented to lie in her bed. Instinctively pulling the covers over her, she turned over and slept.

Fallen star, oh fallen star,
Take me away to lands afar,
let me see that place beyond,
take me, please as here comes dawn.

In dreaming, she uttered these words, and in reply the heavens sang.

Wish upon a falling star,
my dear, you must look far.
Catch it by it's tail and ask,
for any gift or any task.
Remember though, that the tongue is a blade,
every gift a gift repaid.

Amber slept dreamlessly that night, so still one would think she slept the eternal slumber. Something in her twisted, changed, grew. Sonething with claws and eyes that glimmered in the night.

And all the night was still.

I

Amber sulked in her room. Twisting one platinium hair around her finger, she fumed at her father. He had refused to take her to Neverevermore. Her mother had come from there, and although she knew little of it, her small stature, dark hair and rounded ears attested to the strangeness of that world.

It was the thirteenth sun of the thirteenth moon of the Bridge Year, the one day when all portals between the two realms swung open for precious little time, when The Folk and the humans mixed, traded, met and sometimes interbred. Today was the only day the Fey could leave Faerie, though mortals often entered by mistake. It was this day, thirteen years ago, that Amber was born. Her mother had actually come to Faerie sixteen years before, but it was only later that she met her father.

Her father. The Moonlit Shadow, The Raven of the Dark Forest, once a lowly groundskeeper, now risen through years of service to Chief Ranger of Faerie. The flash of his blade was feared, his aim unerring. He had wed the human daughter of the Queen, and Amber was the result. Today was her birthday. He was protector and wanderer, conqueror of more hearts than her mother was pleased with, but over all, he was Amber's father.

And he was away, protecting the Queen, trading with mortals.

Amber cursed him. Her mother was at court. There she studied the mortal ways and was consul to the Seelie
Court. Amber cursed her too.

"Amber! It's time for your lessons!"

"Yes Aunt Liane! I'm coming!"

She sighed. Today was going to be a long day.

A black raven alighted from outside her window and dived, spiralling, til it hit the ground with a muffled thump, spine snapping.

II

Estelle skipped across the afternoon sky, hidden by the light of the sun. It was her day. Her day to visit, chosen as she was by the Council of Night in their dances, to trip down through the clouds and meet with the fey. She would renew magick in the land, and in return they would give the stars light.

And the night sky would blaze with beauty.

Catching a breeze, she floated down, down, down, white shift billowing in the crisp, chill high air, warming as she neared the ground.

III

"One more time. Concentrate. Focus your will as a knife. Cut the stone cleanly in one strike"

Amber focused for what seemed to be the thousandeth time, and the rock shook, turned red hot, and exploded.

"Well, atleast you did something", Liane remarked dryly.

Amber was frustrated. Maybe that was why the rock exploded. She glanced at the fragments. They were like her birthday really. Ruined. Broken.

She sensed, no, knew, that Liane was secretly pleased. Well, it had been the first time she did something apart from glare at stones and frown. She was mostly useless at combat, healing or other white magicks. Dark magicks she had not yet learned, but they were notoriously difficult. She was good with glamours and what her father called "empathy", but quite hopeless otherwise. She sighed.

A piece of blasted rock hissed. It was starting to rain. Droplets came down, and as the wind began to pick up, swept the clearing.

"Time to go", Liane said.

"About time", Amber muttered.

"What was that?", Liane snapped jokingly.

"Nothing mam!", Amber replied smartly.

Although Liane and Amber were aunt and niece, they were close. Will, Amber's father, was often away, and her mother was inept at the craft, so her education was Liane's responsibility. She was like an older sister to Amber. Their teacher-pupil relationship was a farce, a private joke ever since Will had declared that the two "Weren't nearly serious enough".

Liane cast a glamour with a wink, appearing as a golden-blonde cat the same colour as her hair. She had not actually transformed of course, no one could do that, but the illusion would be enough to get through the forest unmolested by the tree-spirits. Amber followed suit, turning into a platinium-white kitten. Together they bounded back towards the castle.

IV

"Greetings young star". Elsea motioned towards Estelle, extending a hand.

"Just a short walk to the palace"

Estelle was puzzled, but consented. Surely she could mean no harm.

V

Amber and Liane slinked into the castle. Maintaining the feline illusion, they slipped into their secret entrance: the servant's kitchen. Her grandmother would have a fit if she knew, but no one suspected them.

The rain was getting heavier, and to add verismillitude to their disguises
they allowed some of the wetness of their clothes to drip, leaving wet pawprints and appearing soaked.

The wards, of course, would sense them and pierce the illusions easily, but they would identify them and let them in. The Queen and King would only know that they entered, not how or from where. If, of course, they were paying attention. Most of the time, they ignored the magickal pulses from the wards. After all, they already only let known fey in, burning all others to ash unless they carried the King's seal.

Amber's father had helped to craft the wards when they had to be replaced, and so gave Amber a bit more freedom, which he later extended to her tutor.

Liane jumped through the doorway and padded forward. Amber followed suit, but was caught in mid leap. Her skin prickled, and her illusionary self smoked. She cried out in pain, loosing the thread of power sustaining the glamour in the agony. Suddenly the pain stopped. Amber crumpled acrose the doorway, the hem of her dress singed. Her skin and hair though, were untouched, save the small bruise from where she had hit the floor after the ward halted its assault.

Liane, glamour removed, carried Amber past the astounded servants bearing trays and bowls of food.

An eyelid cracked open.

Ugh, thought Amber. This day is even worse than I thought it would be. Drowsily, exhausted and with a faint headache, she lost consciousness in the gentle sway of Liane's hold.

An old woman in black, chopping up meat from a recent hunt, left the kitchen and calmly stabbed herself in the heart, methodically twisting and yanking to quicken death.

VI

"There are three things I don't understand. Firstly, why didn't the wards let her in? If there is something wrong with their senses we need to check with the Queen. Secondly, if it wanted to keep her out, why didn't she die? Thirdly, why didn't they stop her once she killed the glamour? If a thirteen-year-old's glamour can baffle those spells we should really be worried."

Amber opened her eyes and saw two Lianes staring down at her. No, Liane and her sister Elsea. But she had not seen Elsea since she was six...

Her vision lapsed back into darkness.

VI

She was swimming in a sea of darkness. A light, and a tall, pale, shining figure. It beckoned. White light. Warmth. "I will see you when you wake" the figure said. The voice was feminine, musical, like thousands of chiming bells sounding softly. The very words seemed to twinkle and shine.

VII

Amber woke in her bed. Something wet and dark pooled between her legs and soaked the sheets. Blearily she caught some of the liquid with her finger and brought it up to her face. Blood. It's ruby-red colour was clear in the warm mage-light of her bedside latern. She felt sick. She had never seen this much blood before. She got up, legs unsteady, and heaved herself heavily to the window. Blood ran in rivulets down her legs.

"Mother!" She cried out.

VIII

"A day late"

"Yes, yes, but she is halfblood after all"

"The star is ready"

"Oh, go away"

A figure of the Folk slipped away into the shadows, melting into them with each step, til she was no more.

And a little blackbird gave up it's life, like a candle extinguished by the cold midnight wind.

IX

Amber, wearing the the woven starshine dress of a Lady of the Court, descended the spiralling staircase. Uncertainty tainted her step and fear gnawed at her heart. Her mother had arrived, but carried news. She had been summoned to the Seelie Court at midday.

She could have flown down, of course, could have grown her own first pair of wings, chosen their colour, declared her maturity more openly, but somehow it did not seem fitting. Today was special, but not a celebratory, joyous day. It was a day of beginnings, of changes and new stories.

If she had known that she felt this, it was overshadowed, overshadowed by fear. Had the Court found out about her entrances into the castle? Surely it was not important enough to be
brought to court, but the workings of the Fey never made sense.

The workings of Fey never made sense. How true, she thought, how true.

I don't make much sense either.

X

Amber stood amidst the Seelie Court. The court sat on spidersilk chairs arranged in the crescent of the new moon. At the easternmost side of the formation her mother sat, her slight, human form and dark hair making her seem out of place among the tall, elegant, golden-haired courtiers. In the centre, the King and Queen, her grandparents, rested on thrones adorned with violet sungems.

The King looked down at Alyss somewhat questioningly, as if he did not believe nor want to believe what he saw. His wife, the Queen's half-smile was perplexing. It was the smile of a cat, when it has snapped the spine of its prey and is beginning to feast. It was the smile of a secret told, the smile Amber had learned to fear and mistrust. It was a smile that could mean anything.

Anything, but definitely something.

Amber remained silent.

The Queen did not say a word, simply gestured, tracing out the runes for travel, now, and the court hall, along with two names Amber did not recognise. She blew the smoky figures away and the glowed and dissipated.

But Amber's attention was on the shadows, for the realms of Faerie and Neverevermore had closed to each other, the Queen had returned, and her father should have as well. Where was he? He should have been guarding the Court and Queen, a silent and unseen shadow with a deadly blade, and fast-whistling mercy. Amber could always see her father, in any light, much to his mock dismay. He would smile at her knowingly, blow a soft kiss to her mother. He was not here.

With a flick of her eyes her mother caught Amber's attention, and shook her head ever so slightly.

All this happened in a moment, and a moment later, Aunt Elsea and a young woman, tall, pale, shining, before Amber, back to the court.

Shining? The dream. Amber's eyes widened.

"Amber, this is Estelle, the Star, and you have been Chosen"

"Or rather, she has Chosen you"

Curiosity. Delight. Confusion. Fear.

Estelle stepped forward and reached one semi-translucent, bright hand towards Amber. The tang of iron filled the air.

XI

Blood flowed from her hand, and Amber felt herself falling.

She found herself floating in a dark, grey void, the whisper of wind caressing her skin, holding her aloft.

The now-familiar tang of iron, drifting in the darkness, wanting to scream.

And a voice. The same. The one she now knew as Estelle.

XII

Amber, know yourself, said the Star

And Amber did.

Amber saw herself as she was. A changeling girl. She belonged to no world, and could be the one to hold them apart.

She saw the vast, frightening chaos within, saw how much she he held inside. She Saw each one of here futures, like spider silk threads reaching out into the night. She Saw what she was, Saw what she was meant to be, Saw her destiny and Saw what she was foreordained to become. She was the sacrifice. She was the catalyst. She was the conduit and the channel. She was the wall.

She would renew the magick of Faerie, with her blood, and with her dying words ensure balance for the next age. She would be reborn in fire, become one of the stars in the sky, waiting for the next. She would forget, and remember only how to hold the worlds apart.

But why?

Glimpsing down another path, hidden right in the middle of all these shining futures, one future showed. It was this in which Amber saw the other that she could become.

And Amber Chose.

It was not that hard, once one came to think about it. It was natural. Easy. True. She would come back to visit. She would not forget. This was her choice, and not any other's.

XIII

Two cats, one black and one white, sat on a wall in a city. The black one turned to the white and looked it in the eyes, searching, looking, reading. It turned away, and left. The white cat followed.

The day before, something had changed, as a young changeling gave her life as payment to jump across to another line of fate, push the worlds down another course.

Angels and demons danced together on rooftops. Fey conversed with men. Magick leapt from world to world, changing everything it touched. All doors were opened, all roads became highways.

But what do cats know of such things?

The black cat touched a man and he wept.

The white cat slinked past a woman and she smiled, holding some secret joy of hope.

The black cat is called Tristitia,

The white cat is called Laetitia.
The black cat has deep green eyes.

The white cat has eyes of amber.

The End.

This is how the worlds were joined. This is how a balance is struck. This tale is not finished, nor dead. It is simply wandering elsewhere. Waiting, resting, learning and exploring. But never sleeping.

I wanted to write more, but it was getting draggy. I honestly have a lot more all planned out for Amber, but it needs to be a seperate story. Sorry folks, my writing was getting worse progressively. Oh well. I will rework the idea someday, but honestly I just want to get this hanging story up. So i can think clearly again:x Hope its still readable.

mumble

2010-08-29T00:52:00.001+08:00

Am I mumbling far too loud?
is the clicking of the keys your song.
Am I far too tired now?
isn't this day just a little long.

I'm too tired to think too much,
but sorrow is not of thought.
I need you more than anything,
In truth I need a lot.

Would you come and set me free,
from stranger miseries yet.
or the tale I tell myself:
you do find what you get.

Just need to hold on to you dear,
and be held safe and tight.
Just not alone on this lonely night,
you are my only light.

Swan Parts One to Three

2010-08-26T17:11:00.001+08:00

Edited the first part, and added the next two. more to come but I shall be going back to Amber first I think.

Swan

Part One- A New Day

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, over the mountain colonies of Dawn, past the candlelit shores of Dusk village, a thousand leagues from the city of Day, was a hut;almost a cottage in the forest. From this cottage a path led to a clearing, and the lake within.

Ages had come and gone, kingdoms risen and fallen, storms and floods changed the very bones of the many-coloured land, but still the moon waxed and waned over the lake by the forest, bringing the tides of memory washing gently over the overgrown shore. And for generations, until the hunters drove them away with their fire and metal, a pair swans would swim, skim, grace the lake whenever the moon was full.

It was here that, one midsummer night's eve, a girl-child was to have been found. A pale little slip of a child, she grew to be graceful beyond her years, wise beyond her years: indeed, there was little about her that betrayed her youth. Save, of course, for her smile, gentle and innocent, yet touched by a beauty that seemed almost ethereal. The townsfolk of the nearby meadow, when they saw her, called her Meira -light, for she came and went with the morning light.

She knew better, and called herself Swan.

She woke every morning in the hut in the forest, bathed in a streamlet which ran from the lake. Sometimes she would find berries for food. Other times she would swim, floating effortlessly across the water, before striking out suddenly, a movement as deadly as it was beautiful, and in her hand would be a glistening fish. She would cook these over an open fire, enthralled by the capering flames as much as the aroma of fresh-cooked dinner.

One such morning, she floated on her back in the lake, naked save her hair, which was light and smooth, her eyes closed. She felt the warmth of the sun caress her skin. She heard the gentle lapping of magnified ripples cresting over the bank, kept an ear tuned, just to be safe. She pursed her lips and ran her tongue over them.

"Sun", she said, the word coming from between her lips like the rays themselves, warm and comfortable.

She had been teaching herself, listening to the townsfolk when she ventured near.

"Water", she said, and the words slipped from her lips like droplets of gentle moisture.

"You're beautiful"

Swan startled, and kicked off in the water, arriving at the lakeside in a flurry of movement. She had not heard anyone. She turned, observing the intruder, as she backed towards her hut.

He was a young man, stripped to the waist, drifting lazily in the water. He bared his teeth at her. Startled, she tripped back to the door and slammed it behind her. No one had done that before.

She peeked out of her window. He was gone. She breathed a sigh of relief, but decided to stay inside to be safe. She rested her back against the wall, shivered, and grabbed a handful of the clothes she had been given by a kind old lady in black in the town, donning them to halt her shivering. She did the buttons on the back up quickly, fingers long used to the still-strange task. She wrapped the cloak around her shoulders. The remaining water quickly slid off her pale skin and hair, forming a small pool on the floor. She traced circles in the water on the floorboards, using the tip of her toes to guide the path of the liquid.

There was a knock on the door.

She peeked out the window, and a dark shape suddenly filled her vision.

"Hello Meira"

She kept quiet as the man, noticeably sinewy and, now that she could see, younger than she had thought, examined her quizzically.

"I'm a traveller: a tinker really, I...make things and sell them wherever I go. I heard a beautiful lady was living here, alone, in the village. An old lady told me your name and told me to come see you"

She examined his sculpted collarbone, chiselled jaw and easy, dangerous stance. Like a wildcat, she realised. Relaxed, but an aura of danger surrounded him. As if he knew...things. He was not extremely muscular, but had the look of one who was used to a life of hard travel, revelled in it. She understood what he said. Understanding was easy. It was speaking that was hard.

"She told me to give you something"

He disappeared from her view, before returning with a large pack which jangled with metal: a sound like bells, and a sound like blades.

He held out a small glass rose to her.

"She said that it was a luck charm or something."

Swan reached out hesitantly before snatching the rose from his hand. Her skin brushed his for a moment, and she felt a tingle of electricity. She noticed that he shivered, and wondered if he felt it too. She examined the rose. It was crystal, pinkish, nearly transparent. She tucked it into her hair. It stayed. Things did when she wanted them to, just like they did not when she did not want them to.

A flush heat rose from the rose and filled her body. Her awareness expanded, grew.

"You're not really a tinker are you", she said, marvelling as she spoke, that she had not been able to speak before.

He blinked.

"No, not really. I make things, but not pots and pans like a tinker. I make-"

He did not get to finish his sentence. A loud crack, a scent of burning. Death had come. He ducked, and grabbed something from his pack.

He held a small metal disk. Clicking down a lever, it unfolded into a larger disk, with handholds folding out with a click. Holding it with a hand, he sighted over it and called back.

"Let me in, I can help"

Swan kept quiet, crouching under the windowsill.

A hole appeared in the wall beside her.

She curled into a ball, hugging her knees.

Outside, she heard a clang of steel on steel. She peeked out the window to see the man holding another contraption in his other hand. He thumbed something on the handle of this one, and a flash of light enveloped one end of it, causing the shooting (for somehow she now knew what the deadly fire was) to stop momentarily. He used this time to circle around to her door.

He knocked on it, causing it to shake in its frame. "Let me in!"

She uncurled, stretching out to flick the latch open.

He tumbled violently in and shut the door, tossing his pack inside with the same movement.

For a moment the lay, face to face, on the floor.

Tearing his gaze away from her eyes, he pushed himself up to the window, where he withdrew something from his pack. It was a small, grey square. He blew on it and threw it at the door and it exploded, covering the door in some grey material that quickly hardened. He did the same to the rest of the walls, covering the window with a different coloured square that produced glass of some kind.

"They're porous, so we can breathe, and should keep everything out for now"

He pulled out another device, a small tube, and pointed it towards a candle that lay on the small table by her bed. A spark flew of its tip, and the candle lit the hut with a soft orange glow. He thumbed a small depression on the tube, and a rush of flame from its tip leapt to her fireplace, causing it to crackle to life. Stowing the tube in his pack, he turned back to her.

He bared his teeth at her again. Smiled, she corrected herself.

"Can we try that again?" He said, still grinning.

"Hello, I'm Liam, and I'm here to protect you".

Swan was confused.

End of Part One

Part Two- Interlude

Swan hugged her knees, finding it increasingly hard to keep her drooping eyelids open. Liam had told her that he really was a traveller. He was, however, also a technologist and a bit of an alchemist. Whatever those titles meant. What she had understood, though, was that for some reason unknown, someone wanted her dead. He had told her the details, but they were unheard names and meaningless descriptions to her. She was still coming to grips with her newfound knowledge and comprehension, and the most of what he said to her was lost. Her new thoughts were overwhelming.

She found herself admiring him, as, she would grudgingly admit, a rather attractive man, if he did talk a lot. She wondered how he continued to talk, his torrent of language unimpeded by her adamant silence. The last thing she had said before losing herself in reverie was her name. She drifted off once again as he begun speaking anew, head full of warm, pleasant thoughts, that still somewhat frightened her in their multitude.

~

Liam watched the girl drift off once more. He knew, really, that he was rambling and that she was not listening but he needed to do something to keep himself occupied. Here, alone with a beautiful, vulnerable young girl, in a small, private cottage in the middle of nowhere, temptations abound. But that was not his place, He was simply a guardian.

As she began to slump onto the floor, Liam picked Swan up and placed her on the bed gently. He sat himself back on the floor, recalling the words of the old lady, curse her soul.

Take her away to somewhere other
Take her to someone, another.
Take her by the break of day,
or her heart will break away.

She had given him the rose then, to give to the girl. He might have gone to her at that point, he would like to think, but at that moment the old crone sealed his fate, in the middle of the town, for all to see.

Go to her or forfeit
Your last chance to keep
your failing wit.

Then he had felt something like clamp around his mind, probing and holding, where the old battle-madness remained. He had been pushed down by sorrow and guilt, his own but not his own. Something had snapped. He had howled, like an animal, and run, wild, to the forest. Possessed, it seemed, to the townspeople.

He knew better. It was full moon.

The girl though, something about her calmed him, contained the madness. From the moment he crept up to her, mind still lost in that of the beast, something about her reached out to him and soothed the pain of the change inside, brought him back.

Now he knew someone was out to get her, and had even more reason to stay with her. He would protect her, as well as he could. He lacked the training his brothers had in combat, but thought that his creations might make up for it. They had certainly worked just now, but he had lacked the means to eliminate the threat of the gunmen. Unable to see them, or, even if he could have, to dispatch of them, he had blinded them with a flare pistol, only able to deflect their shots with his discus-shield in place of actually doing something. He needed to make something to go on the offensive with. Perhaps a dart-launcher or flame-powder? He could do something... He needed to be able to if he wanted to guard Swan.

He looked at her. Swan. What an odd name. Something in her manner, some quirk of her behaviour, reflected the silent grace of those creatures. But to call herself one...

He considered asking her when she woke. It did not take too long to decide against it. It was enough that he had bored her to sleep. He did not have to bother her about her choice of name.

Examining the quick-stone and steelglass to check for cracks or deformities caused by the rapid expansion of the compressed material, he propped himself against the foot of the small, single bed, and prepared to sleep. For all your bravado and boldness Liam, he though to himself, you worry too much. A last, lingering glance at Swan's delicate yet shapely figure, and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

End of Part Two

Part Three- Captive

Swan tossed and turned in her sleep. The change wanted to come, but would not. Her skin remained skin, hair remained hair, fingers remained fingers, and the freedom of the night was not hers. It was not unpleasant. It was agony. Her eyes swept the cottage to see that the fire had gone out. A faint red glow lit the walls, and it seemed to come from her hair. She tried to wake Liam, who lay by the foot of her bed, back against the board. He would not stir.

She pounded on the rock walls, until her fists bled ruby-red.

End of Part Three

Swan

2010-08-25T22:00:00.000+08:00

Just a little story, the start of something. A prelude to this would be the poet and the swan
I am still writing Amber and the Star. This was written as a gift.

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, over the mountain colonies of Dawn, past the candlelit shores of Dusk village, a thousand leagues from the city of Day, was a hut;almost a cottage in the forest. From this cottage a path led to a clearing, and the lake within. Ages had come and gone, kingdoms risen and fallen, storms and floods changed the very land, but still the moon waxed and waned over the lake by the forest, bringing the tides of memory washing gently over the overgrown shore. And for generations, until the hunters drove them away with their fire and metal, a few swans would swim in the lake whenever the moon was full.

It was here that, one midsummer night's eve, a girl-child was found. A pale little slip of a child, she grew to be graceful beyond her years, wise beyond her years: indeed, there was little about her that seemed young. Save, of course, for her smile, gentle and innocent, yet touched by a beauty that seemed almost ethereal. The townsfolk of the nearby meadow, when they saw her, called her Meira -light, for she came and went with the morning light, never straying far from the touch of the warmth she seemed to crave.

She knew better, and called herself Swan.

She woke every morning in the hut in the forest, bathed in a streamlet which ran from the lake. Sometimes she would find berries for food. Other times she would swim, floating effortlessly across the water, before striking out suddenly, a movement as deadly as it was beautiful, and in her hand would be a glistening fish.

One such morning, she floated on her back in the lake, naked save her hair, which was light and smooth, her eyes closed. She felt the warmth of the sun caress her skin. She heard the gentle lapping of magnified ripples cresting over the bank, kept an ear tuned, just to be safe. She pursed her lips and ran her tongue over them.

"Sun", she said, the word coming from between her lips like the rays themselves, warm and comfortable.

She had been teaching herself, listening to the townsfolk when she ventured near.

"Water", she said, and the words slipped from her lips like droplets of gentle moisture.

"You're beautiful"

Swan startled, and kicked off in the water, arriving at the lakeside in a flurry of movement. She had not heard anyone. She turned, observing the intruder, as she backed towards her hut.

He was a young man, stripped to the waist, drifting lazily in the water. He bared his teeth at her. Startled, she tripped back to the door and slammed it behind her. No one had done that before.

She peeked out of her window. He was gone. She breathed a sigh of relief, but decided to stay inside to be safe. She rested her back against the wall, shivered, and grabbed a handful of the clothes she had been given by a kind old lady in black in the town, donning them to halt her shivering. She did the buttons on the back up quickly, fingers long used to the still-strange task. She wrapped the cloak around her shoulders. The remaining water quickly slid off her pale skin and hair, forming a small pool on the floor. She traced circles in the water on the floorboards, using the tip of her toes to guide the path of the liquid.

There was a knock on the door.

She peeked out the window, and a dark shape suddenly filled her vision.

"Hello Meira"

She kept quiet as the man, noticeably sinewy and, now that she could see, younger than she had thought, examined her quizzically.

"I'm a traveller: a tinker really, I...make things and sell them wherever I go. I heard a beautiful lady was living here, alone, in the village. An old lady told me your name and told me to come see you"

She examined his sculpted collarbone, chiselled jaw and easy, dangerous stance. Like a wildcat, she realised. Relaxed, but an aura of danger surrounded him. As if he knew...things. He was not extremely muscular, but had the look of one who was used to a life of hard travel, revelled in it. She understood what he said. Understanding was easy. It was speaking that was hard.

"She told me to give you something"

He disappeared from her view, before returning with a large pack which jangled with metal: a sound like bells, and a sound like blades.

He held out a small glass rose to her.

"She said that it was a luck charm or something."

Swan reached out hesitantly before snatching the rose from his hand. Her skin brushed his for a moment, and she felt a tingle of electricity. She noticed that he shivered, and wondered if he felt it too. She examined the rose. It was crystal, pinkish, nearly transparent. She tucked it into her hair. It stayed. Things did when she wanted them to, just like they did not when she did not want them to.

A flush heat rose from the rose and filled her body. Her awareness expanded, grew.

"You're not really a tinker are you", she said, marvelling as she spoke, that she had not been able to speak before.

He blinked.

"No, not really. I'm a technologist. I make things, but not pots and pans like a tinker. I make-"

He did not get to finish his sentence. A loud crack, a scent of burning. Death had come. He ducked, and grabbed something from his pack.

He held a small metal disk. Clicking down a lever, it unfolded into a larger disk, with handholds folding out with a click. Holding it with a hand, he sighted over it and called back.

"Let me in, I can help"

Swan kept quiet, crouching under the windowsill.

A hole appeared in the wall beside her.

She curled into a ball, hugging her knees.

Outside, she heard a clang of steel on steel. She peeked out the window to see the man holding another contraption in his other hand. He thumbed something on the handle of this one, and a flash of light enveloped one end of it, causing the shooting (for somehow she now knew what the deadly fire was) to stop momentarily. He used this time to circle around to her door.

He knocked on it, causing it to shake in its frame. "Let me in!"

She uncurled, stretching out to flick the latch open.

He tumbled violently in and shut the door, tossing his pack inside with the same movement.

For a moment the lay, face to face, on the floor.

Tearing his gaze away from her eyes, he pushed himself up to the window, where he withdrew something from his pack. It was a small, grey square. He blew on it and threw it at the door and it exploded, covering the door in some grey material that quickly hardened. He did the same to the rest of the walls, covering the window with a different coloured square that produced glass of some kind.

"They're porous, so we can breathe, and should keep everything out for now"

He pulled out another device, a small tube, and pointed it towards a candle that lay on the small table by her bed. A spark flew of its tip, and the candle lit the hut with a soft orange glow.

He bared his teeth at her again. Smiled, she corrected herself.

"Can we try that again?" He said, still grinning.

"Hello, I'm Liam, and I'm here to protect you".

Swan was confused.

Tonight

2010-08-22T00:17:00.001+08:00

everywhere and everyone
actors on a stage
call on lead, backdrop fall back,
the scene must fit the page.

talk to me or take of me,
or give but I cannot take,
hear a cry, or silent tear,
the strongest always break.

the things we're told
to break our bones
and make our spirits dance

to their tune
or once again,
fall and take the chance.

its not about you
or anyone
or me to say the least.

its just that every moment alone
the wolves and ravens feast.

I think I shall have
a nightmare tonight.

ramble

2010-08-21T20:54:00.001+08:00

please no more shouting
please no more pain.
a home is fragile
washed away like a stain.

inside my mind
I long to be held
inside my mind
the silent anguish-failing meld.

I have to be strong
I have to hold tight.
It's easy to be wrong
so hard to think right.

I know I fit the mold
of some desolate, lonely fake
but inside this world
it's ourselves that we make.

the work is not bad
it simply eats at your soul
using papers as walls
takes a papercut toll.

I have no time
to wallow in this
no time to spare
I'll have to miss.

dry as dust on the tongue

2010-08-03T21:50:00.000+08:00

the painted masks of caution and insight,
they breathe and live on our skin.
the day passes like every other,
and softly, silently, I wonder,
how much truth can hold.
When everything is but a shadow,
and no one can give back what's sold.
there is no one reason for these thoughts and miseries,
nor reprieve from this black tide.
the days turns slowly from me,
and all my efforts fall wide.

I'm just tired,
or dead,
or waiting inside
for a few words,
I might hear.

I used to spin gold to spiderwebs
or so I thought,
but thinking so was enough.

I don't mean to be glum.
It's not that I'm unhappy,
I'm simply suffering
from a little apathy.

so I type out a little verse.
lost all sense of meter or rhyme.
tasting words that fail to capture,
what I feel this time.

Map of the Problematique Intro

2010-08-02T18:14:00.005+08:00

figuring out the intro..
where Cm, Eb, Ab, Fm are chords, [numbers in brackets denotate the notes in the chord being played with 1 the tonic and so on]
1- representing the note held for 1 count and 11 represents two notes in one count (two quavers)
individual letter in CAPS are notes (eg C) and letters in lower case are flatted notes (eg e)
| represents one downward strum and | a softer strum, not counting echoes

This is for a cover i will finish after the exams. did this bit, with a lot of errors i have just fixed in my new notation, in the video below.

Muse-Map of The Problematique Intro (by ear)

Intro:

DISTORTED LEAD GUITAR (sustain bass note throughout)

Cm (x4)

[1-818-1-

88-1-8-]

and then, Cm, Eb, Ab, Fm (x2 silent then x2 in ) [1-8-8 18181 1-8]x3, [1-8-8 181888--]

during silent, DISTORTED RYTHM GUITAR start [ whole Chord || | |]

during silent 2nd time CLEAN ELECTRIC GUITAR start [Cx8 Dx4 ex16]

then [ex8 Dx2 Cx2 Dx8 Cx2 Bx2 Cx8 Bx2 ax8 G]x2

during silent, ECHO PIANO start [DeC Deb DeaeC DeC Deb Dea]x2

(interlude to be figured out later)

POSSIBLE ARRANGEMENT FOR VIDEO (highlight for spoiler)

DRUM SYNTHESISER (iElectribe)	DISTORTION LEAD BASS GUITAR (AX-SYNTH)	ECHO/REVERB PIANO (AX-SYNTH)
DISTORTION RYTHM GUITAR (AX-SYNTH)	LYRICS	CLEAN ELECTRIC GUITAR (AX-SYNTH)
SYNTHESIZER BASS (AX-SYNTH)	SYNTHESIZER VOCAL LINE (AX-SYNTH)	EFFECTS (Mini Kaoss Pad)

INTRO VIDEO (PRELIMINARY)

Messing Around on the Hosanna Intro

2010-08-01T10:50:00.001+08:00

nothing

2010-07-27T22:20:00.001+08:00

a response/revival of a certain train of thought, as inspired by Amy

i spent three years examining this system last time and decided i liked it. now that its been mentioned ide like to say a few things through my own profile, that i will not say. im being extremely blunt as it is. im hoping this post willbe read by the right person and that person will get what im trying to say. (nothing negative, the message lies within the profile itself)

oh yeah before i start, im an ENFJ (Giver/Teacher) This profile is how i see myself but other sources have agreed and redoing it over the years ive got the same result so for me its pretty consistent. then again only a proper psychologist can confirm anything. and then again only for the moment.

to be more accurate, im an XNFJ cause my introvert/extrovert ratio is hardly anything

PERSONALITY
The Giver

As an ENFJ, you're primary mode of living is focused externally, where you deal with things according to how you feel about them, or how they fit into your personal value system. Your secondary mode is internal, where you take things in primarily via your intuition.

ENFJs are people-focused individuals. They live in the world of people possibilities. More so than any other type, they have excellent people skills. They understand and care about people, and have a special talent for bringing out the best in others. ENFJ's main interest in life is giving love, support, and a good time to other people. They are focused on understanding, supporting, and encouraging others. They make things happen for people, and get their best personal satisfaction from this.

Because ENFJ's people skills are so extraordinary, they have the ability to make people do exactly what they want them to do. They get under people's skins and get the reactions that they are seeking. ENFJ's motives are usually unselfish, but ENFJs who have developed less than ideally have been known to use their power over people to manipulate them.

ENFJ's are so externally focused that it's especially important for them to spend time alone. This can be difficult for some ENFJs, because they have the tendency to be hard on themselves and turn to dark thoughts when alone. Consequently, ENFJs might avoid being alone, and fill their lives with activities involving other people. ENFJs tend to define their life's direction and priorities according to other people's needs, and may not be aware of their own needs. It's natural to their personality type that they will tend to place other people's needs above their own, but they need to stay aware of their own needs so that they don't sacrifice themselves in their drive to help others.

ENFJ's tend to be more reserved about exposing themselves than other extraverted types. Although they may have strongly-felt beliefs, they're likely to refrain from expressing them if doing so would interfere with bringing out the best in others. Because their strongest interest lies in being a catalyst of change in other people, they're likely to interact with others on their own level, in a chameleon-like manner, rather than as individuals.

Which is not to say that the ENFJ does not have opinions. ENFJs have definite values and opinions which they're able to express clearly and succinctly. These beliefs will be expressed as long as they're not too personal. ENFJ is in many ways expressive and open, but is more focused on being responsive and supportive of others. When faced with a conflict between a strongly-held value and serving another person's need, they are highly likely to value the other person's needs.

The ENFJ may feel quite lonely even when surrounded by people. This feeling of aloneness may be exacerbated by the tendency to not reveal their true selves.

People love ENFJs. They are fun to be with, and truly understand and love people. They are typically very straight-forward and honest. Usually ENFJs exude a lot of self-confidence, and have a great amount of ability to do many different things. They are generally bright, full of potential, energetic and fast-paced. They are usually good at anything which captures their interest.

ENFJs like for things to be well-organized, and will work hard at maintaining structure and resolving ambiguity. They have a tendency to be fussy, especially with their home environments.

In the work place, ENFJs do well in positions where they deal with people. They are naturals for the social committee. Their uncanny ability to understand people and say just what needs to be said to make them happy makes them naturals for counseling. They enjoy being the center of attention, and do very well in situations where they can inspire and lead others, such as teaching.

ENFJs do not like dealing with impersonal reasoning. They don't understand or appreciate its merit, and will be unhappy in situations where they're forced to deal with logic and facts without any connection to a human element. Living in the world of people possibilities, they enjoy their plans more than their achievements. They get excited about possibilities for the future, but may become easily bored and restless with the present.

ENFJs have a special gift with people, and are basically happy people when they can use that gift to help others. They get their best satisfaction from serving others. Their genuine interest in Humankind and their exceptional intuitive awareness of people makes them able to draw out even the most reserved individuals.

ENFJs have a strong need for close, intimate relationships, and will put forth a lot of effort in creating and maintaining these relationships. They're very loyal and trustworthy once involved in a relationship.

An ENFJ who has not developed their Feeling side may have difficulty making good decisions, and may rely heavily on other people in decision-making processes. If they have not developed their Intuition, they may not be able to see possibilities, and will judge things too quickly based on established value systems or social rules, without really understanding the current situation. An ENFJ who has not found their place in the world is likely to be extremely sensitive to criticism, and to have the tendency to worry excessively and feel guilty. They are also likely to be very manipulative and controling with others.

In general, ENFJs are charming, warm, gracious, creative and diverse individuals with richly developed insights into what makes other people tick. This special ability to see growth potential in others combined with a genuine drive to help people makes the ENFJ a truly valued individual. As giving and caring as the ENFJ is, they need to remember to value their own needs as well as the needs of others.

Jungian functional preference ordering:

Dominant: Extraverted Feeling
Auxiliary: Introverted Intuition
Tertiary: Extraverted Sensing
Inferior: Introverted Thinking

Relationships

ENFJ Relationships

ENFJs put a lot of effort and enthusiasm into their relationships. To some extent, the ENFJ defines themself by the closeness and authenticity of their personal relationships, and are therefore highly invested in the business of relationships. They have very good people skills, and are affectionate and considerate. They are warmly affirming and nurturing. The excel at bringing out the best in others, and warmly supporting them. They want responding affirmation from their relationships, although they have a problem asking for it. When a situation calls for it, the ENFJ will become very sharp and critical. After having made their point, they will return to their natural, warm selves. They may have a tendency to "smother" their loved ones, but are generally highly valued for their genuine warmth and caring natures.

ENFJ Strengths

Most ENFJs will exhibit the following strengths with regards to relationship issues:

Good verbal communication skills
Very perceptive about people's thoughts and motives
Motivational, inspirational; bring out the best in others
Warmly affectionate and affirming
Fun to be with - lively sense of humor, dramatic, energetic, optimistic
Good money skills
Able to "move on" after a love relationship has failed (although they blame themselves)
Loyal and committed - they want lifelong relationships
Strive for "win-win" situations
Driven to meet other's needs
ENFJ Weaknesses

Most ENFJs will exhibit the following weaknesses with regards to relationships issues:

Tendency to be smothering and over-protective
Tendency to be controling and/or manipulative
Don't pay enough attention to their own needs
Tend to be critical of opinions and attitudes which don't match their own
Sometimes unaware of social appropriateness or protocol
Extremely sensitive to conflict, with a tendency to sweep things under the rug as an avoidance tactic
Tendency to blame themselves when things go wrong, and not give themselves credit when things go right
Their sharply defined value systems make them unbending in some areas
They may be so attuned to what is socially accepted or expected that they're unable to assess whether something is "right" or "wrong" outside of what their social circle expects.
ENFJs as Lovers

"To love means to open ourselves to the negative as well as the positive - to grief, sorrow, and disappointment as well as to joy, fulfillment, and an intensity of consciousness we did not know was possible before." -- Rollo May

ENFJs make warm, committed lovers who are willing to go to great lengths for the sake of "The Relationship". They're totally dedicated to the relationship, and to their partner, and have a special skill for warmth and affirmation which brings out the best in their mates. They take their commitments seriously, and are likely to put forth a lot of effort into making a relationship work once they have commited themselves to it. In the event that a relationship fails, the ENFJ will feel a lot of guilt, and take on blame for the failure, but they will move on with their lives with relative ease, without looking backwards.
Since relationships are central to the ENFJ's life, they will be very "hands on" and involved with their intimate relationships. They may be in the habit of constantly asking their partner how they're doing, what they're feeling, etc. This behavior may be a bit smothering, but it also supports a strong awareness of the health (or illness) of the relationship.

Sexually, the ENFJ looks forward to intimacy as an opportunity to express love and caring. The ENFJ is generally very interested in the happiness and satisfaction of their partner. Because they achieve much of their personal satisfaction from making others happy, they're likely to be skilled lovers. Like other Judgers, the ENFJ is likely to follow a schedule for intimacy, and may be prone to becoming routinized. For the ENFJ, the most important aspect of a sexual encounter is the affirmation of love and affection.

Although the ENFJ will probably not ask for it, they need to be given sweet words and loving affirmation. Since they are so externally focused on serving people, they do not always pay attention to their own needs. Since much of their personal satisfaction comes from bringing happiness to others, they're able to ignore their own needs and still be happy much more easily than other types. However, if they focus entirely on giving without doing some taking, they may find themselves in an unhealthy, unbalanced relationship. They need to work on being aware of their needs, and being OK with verbalizing those needs to their partners.

A problem area for ENFJs in relationships is their very serious dislike of conflict. ENFJs will prefer to brush issues under the rug rather than confront them head-on, if there is likely to be a conflict. They are also likely to "give in" easily in conflict situations, just to end the conflict. They might agree to something which goes against their values just to end the uncomfortable situation. In such cases, the problem is extended and will return at a later time. The ENFJ needs to realize that the world will not end if there is a disagreement, and that dealing with things immediately initiates closure. Ignoring issues will not make them go away.

In general, the ENFJ is intensely and enthusiastically involved in their personal relationships. They bring fun and warmth into the equation, and are willing to work hard to make things work.

Although two well-developed individuals of any type can enjoy a healthy relationship, ENFJ's natural partner is the INFP, or the ISFP. ENFJ's dominant function of Extraverted Feeling is best matched with a partner whose dominant function is Introverted Feeling. An ENFJ and INFP are ideally matched, because they share the Intuitive way of looking at the world, but the ENFJ and ISFP are also a very good match. How did we arrive at this?

ENFJs as Parents

"You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth...
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable." -- Kahlil Gibran

ENFJs take their parenting role very seriously. They consider the task of passing on values and goals to their children as paramount, and will strive to consistently be a good role model to their children. The ENFJ considers it their responsibility to make sure that their children turn out well. This characteristic, combined with the ENFJ's definite values and ideas about the way things should be, usually results in the ENFJ parent being rather strict, and having high expectations for the behavior of their children. On the other hand, the ENFJ is also warm and affectionate with their children, and very supportive and affirming. The ENFJ can also be counted on to take care of day-to-day necessities for their children.

It is not usually easy to be the child of an ENFJ. The ENFJ's life focus is centered in the sphere of relationships. They take their relationship roles very seriously. They are very "hands-on" in relationships, always monitoring it's progress. This behavior may be smothering to some individuals. ENFJs have very definite value systems, and well-defined ideas about what is right and what is wrong. Since they believe that part of their parental role involves passing their values and ideas to their children, and since they are so concerned and involved with their children, the ENFJ has a tendency to be a strict, controling parent, who is very aware of their children's actions. The ENFJ needs to remember to allow their children the room for growth which is necessary if they are to evolve into healthy, well-adjusted adults. With a bit of effort, it will be possible for the ENFJ to balance their need to pass their values and ideals down to their children with their children's need to develop as individuals.

The ENFJ will put forth a good amount of effort to make their children's home environment warm, comforting and cheerful. They will be ready with a kiss and a baid-aid for any hurt. Their normal attitude towards their children will be loyal, proud, warm, and affirming.

As is the case with most types, ENFJ parents may have problems with their children as they reach puberty. Their children will need more space at that age, and will begin to resent the over-protective tendencies of the ENFJ. This problem will be magnified in situations where the ENFJ is very manipulative. Since ENFJs are gifted with exceptional people skills and personal presence, some ENFJ individuals who are not supported by life's circumstances get into the habit of using these skills for personal gain to get what they want or need out of situations. As they grow older, their children will inevitably see the manipulative tendencies for what they are, and will begin to question their parents' value systems, and strongly resent being forced to comply with a set of values which may be somewhat hippocritical. The manipulative ENFJ, who still has strongly-held values which they are driven to pass to their children, may then find themselves "a day late and a dollar short". As an ENFJ, your best bet is to be aware of your type's manipulative tendancies and to make every effort that you are not using them in a negative way.

Usually, the ENFJ has nothing but the best intentions with regards to their children. They are remembered by their children as very warm and supportive (although strict), and are valued for passing on their goals and ideals.

ENFJs as Friends

ENFJs are warm, sociable people who are keenly in tune with other people's feelings and perspectives. They enjoy supporting and bringing out the best in others. They are energetic and fun to be with. They seek authenticity in their close relationships, and are very sensitive to the needs of others. All of these characteristics make the ENFJ valued by their peers as a warm, supportive and giving friend.

ENFJs are interested in all sorts of people, and are likely to be able to understand and relate to all of the personality types. The will excel at getting along with all sorts of people when the situation demands that they do so. However, they will not choose to spend their personal time around all of the types. They may resist spending a lot of time with Sensing Perceiving types, whose carefree "live for the moment" attitude may conflict with the ENFJ's strongly held value system. When seeking companionship that is not romantic, ENFJs will be drawn to other Feelers who have similar values and ideas. Since they live in a people-oriented world, they are not comfortable with objective judgments which do not consider people issues. Consequently, ENFJs are not likely to have close friendships with strong Thinking types. They will be likely to especially enjoy the company of other iNtuitive Feelers, as well as Sensing Judgers.

its still so strangely accurate. esp the relationships bit. then again me thinking that could be influencing my behavioural patterns.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

Shut Your Eyes [Somewhere Cold Mix]

2010-07-26T16:06:00.000+08:00

my own cover/remix of Snow Patrol's Shut Your Eyes.

beautiful song which i have failed to do justice. well. i tried.

Pray with me

2010-07-24T16:47:00.000+08:00

The Prayer of the Damned

Give me strength, O Lord I pray,
Give me strength and will today.
You know I've failed you
time and again,
but please forgive me,
and to me lend
Your helping hand
in time of need
in my darkest hour
though I do misdeed,
save me from myself,
and let me hurt not any other.
My soul Lord is yours forever,
help me find my way in You.

Lord let it be,
that your light will shine,
in love and mercy,
help the blind to see.

This age is unkind Lord,
you know this heart.
I am nothing before you Lord,
and every good thing thou art.

Take my brokeness,
my young and foolish spirit,
take it all Lord,
Find a use for it.

Give me strength O Lord,
and let it be,
Your will be done,
in and through me.

Amen.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

The Vase and The Rat

2010-07-21T17:21:00.003+08:00

Once upon a time, somewhere in a city like every other, in a dumpster, in the shadows behind a home, a rat came upon the fragments of a broken vase.

“How long have you been broken?”, squeaked the rat, whiskers twitching ever-so-slightly.

“Ever since she dropped me”, the shards chimed.

“Why are you in the trash?”, the rat inquired, blinking at the meager light of the street lamps reflected off the brightness of the shards.

“I brought myself here so that I would not cut anyone”, replied the shards, humming in a tinkling, broken sort of way.

“Does she notice that you are gone?”, the rat tentatively touched a less sharp piece with a dirty-brown paw.

“She sees my shadow on the wall”, the shards whispered.

“And that is enough for her?”

“She has not checked to see the difference.”

The rat scurried away as she scented food.

~fin~

clear

2010-07-16T02:02:00.000+08:00

just some lines to a tune

you've never felt so alone
til the clock chimed it's silent tone
found yourself working through the night,
never opened your lips to fight,
never did anything but try,
but that's never enough -you cry.

it's like a vice of cold black steel,
it's the old and ancient reel.
it's the nightmare in your eyes,
and the dream i spin in my lies.

Tell myself I'll hold on still,
can't let go my heart will,
run to you as always i crave,
but i won't make that last save.
I'll just be honest dear,
just speak out for once and clear.
with all my heart I love you,
just want you to love me too.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

BB PAN WORSHIP

2010-07-05T18:41:00.002+08:00

Full Worship Session for BB Parent's Appreciation Night 2010. Included live playing. No vocals tho

Happiness essay (English Homework)

2010-06-25T15:16:00.001+08:00

I thought i would do something different, so instead of choosing my normal choice and doing the argumentative essay, i thot i would try the one word one. last time i did one i failed for being "too weird" but i kept this. normal. boring.

Happiness

Rob sat in the darkness of the basement. The only light came from the soft blue-white glow of the television. The only sound was the commentator, half muted, and the continuous blare of the vuvuzela horns in the background. Shadows capered along the wall, phantom figures thrown by light of the dance of man and football across the television screen.

A click, and the light went out. Rob sighed. He closed his eyes, took a swig from the beer can in the hand not holding the remote, and welcomed the onset of stupor that was his only relief.

Three hours of fitful sleep later he would wake, blearily wipe the sleep out of his eyes and begin his rounds. Rob was the garbage man. This was his life. He would meet his partner Harry at the dump before leaving for collections, but the two were usually too tired to talk. That was fine with Rob. He had his own internal colloquy.

It did, however, get lonely. Rob found himself drifting through old memories in the monotony of work.

Rob remembered one night as a child. Thirty-odd years ago, or longer. He remembered playing video games, late into the night, waiting for his father to come home, his mother to return from her night out.

He was young and ignorant then, the only child of a relatively well-to-do family. He remembers that one night when his father came back and his mother was still out. He remembers
the bitter, shouted argument, words lost in time, only the emotions: fear, worry, mistrust, preserved by mnemosyne.

He remembers the clang of metal on metal, the dull thud, and curling into a ball, trying desperately to hide from the home that seemed so foreign and frightening. He remembers the salty tang of urine in the air as he wet himself, and the sharp taste of iron when he bit his lip. Then, the next morning, the portrait of pain and anger painted in blood on the carpet downstairs. He remembers the police, with their earsplitting sirens breaking
the already ruined morning silence like the final hammer blow to a cracked glass. He remembers being carried away by one of them, his limbs frozen in a fear-inspired imitation of rigor mortis.

Rob shakes himself, wiping away the lone unbidden tear that trickles slowly across his unshaven cheek.

Frowning, he returns his attention to the collection. He stops the truck and presses the button that opens the back, climbing down to assist Harry.

He has not smiled in years.

He begins picking up black bags of rubbish from the opened dumpster. He starts at the side, hauling them
out, grunting slightly from the weight.

Crying. Someone is crying. It sounds like the wailing of a child. A baby.

Seized by urgency, Rob removes his rough, dirt-encrusted gloves and searches for the source of the sound in the dumpster. After gaining a few scratches and cuts from a broken bottle, he finds a pink bundle. He picks it up, gently, carefully and unwraps it when he has it in his arms.

A few months later, after a lengthy court case, a lot of research and no regrets at all, Rob leafs through a book simply titled "Naming your Baby".

He stops at a page, studying it carefully. He wants to get this right. Ever since he found the child, meaning had come into his life, doors had opened he never considered before, and he had stopped dwelling in the past. More importantly, something had changed.

His finger circled the text uncertaintly before it centred on a single line. "Leticia. Gender: Female. Origin: Latin. Meaning: Joy, Elation, or Happiness."

Leticia, newly named, called out. Rob dashed into the bedroom of his flat, scooped her up and rocked her to sleep.

In her sleep, Leticia smiled, grasping Rob's arm tightly, as if he was all that mattered, that he was the reason she smiled.

Rob smiled.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

Amber and the Star X

2010-06-23T10:39:00.001+08:00

X

Amber stood amidst the Seelie Court. The court sat on spidersilk chairs arranged in the crescent of the new moon. At the easternmost side of the formation her mother sat, her slight, human form and dark hair making her seem out of place among the tall, elegant, golden-haired courtiers. In the centre, the King and Queen, her grandparents, rested on thrones adorned with violet sungems.

The King looked down at Alyss somewhat questioningly, as if he did not believe what he saw, and neither did he wamt to. His wife the Queen's half-smile was perplexing. It was the smile of a cat, when it has snapped the spine of its prey and is beginning to feast. It was the smile of a secret told, the smile Amber had learned to fear and mistrust. It was a smile that could mean anything.

Anything, but definitely something.

Amber remained silent.

The Queen did not say a word, simply gestured, tracing out the runes for travel, now, and the court hall, along with two names Amber did not recognise. She blew the smoky figures away and the glowed and disappated.

But Amber's attention was on the shadows, for the realms of Faerie and Neverevermore had closed to each other, the Queen had returned, and her father should have as well. Where was he? He should have been guarding the Court and Queen, a silent and unseen shadow with a deadly blade, and fast-whistling mercy. Amber could always see her father, in any light, much to his mock dismay. He would smile at her knowingly, blow a soft kiss to her mother. He was not here.

With a flick of her eyes her mother caught Amber's attention, and shook her head ever so slightly.

All this happened in a moment, and a moment later, Aunt Elsea and a young woman, tall, pale, shining, before Amber, back to the court.

Shining? The dream. Amber's eyes widened.

"Amber, this is Estelle, the Star, and you have been Chosen"

"Or rather, she has Chosen you"

Curiosity. Delight. Confusion. Fear.

Estelle stepped forward and reached one semitranslucent, bright hand towards Amber. The tang of iron filled the air.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

musical theory

2010-06-22T14:03:00.001+08:00

rock empowers you and releases you
pop listens to you and understands you
dance brings life to your spirit
alternative brings you to face other sides of yourself
metal laments you
electronic explores with you
punk demands and screams with you
rap vocalises thoughts you never had

music defines you but does not control you
influences you but does not rule you
is a tool and a weapon
a healing touch and poison

all this is true, and all of this is false.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

Amber and the Star (I-IX)

2010-06-16T12:59:00.001+08:00

not done yet, quite a bit to go. planned everything out but lacking the inspiration to execute and write the right way. heh. oh well. in time. added a bit more

Amber and the Star

Prelude

The stars watched the faerie child.

It was the night before her thirteenth birthday. Watching out of the window, once her mother's, now hers, she caught a glimpse of a falling star. Rubbing her eyes, she yawned wearily. She wanted to see the dawn of her maidenhood. Yet her body betrayed her. Her eyelids fluttered and she consented to lie in her bed. Instinctively pulling the covers over her, she turned over and slept.

Fallen star, oh fallen star,
Take me away to lands afar,
let me see that place beyond,
take me, please as here comes dawn.

In dreaming, she uttered these words, and in reply the heavens sang.

Wish upon a falling star,
my dear, you must look far.
Catch it by it's tail and ask,
for any gift or any task.
Remember though, that the tongue is a blade,
every gift a gift repaid.

Amber slept dreamlessly that night, so still one would think she slept the eternal slumber. Something in her twisted, changed, grew. Sonething with claws and eyes that glimmered in the night.

And all the night was still.

I

Amber sulked in her room. Twisting one platinium hair around her finger, she fumed at her father. He had refused to take her to Neverevermore. Her mother had come from there, and although she knew little of it, her small stature, dark hair and rounded ears attested to the strangeness of that world.

It was the thirteenth sun of the thirteenth moon of the Bridge Year, the one day when all portals between the two realms swung open for precious little time, when The Folk and the humans mixed, traded, met and sometimes interbred. Today was the only day the Fey could leave Faerie, though mortals often entered by mistake. It was this day, thirteen years ago, that Amber was born. Her mother had actually come to Faerie sixteen years before, but it was only later that she met her father.

Her father. The Moonlit Shadow, The Raven of the Dark Forest, once a lowly groundskeeper, now risen through years of service to Chief Ranger of Faerie. The flash of his blade was feared, his aim unerring. He had wed the human daughter of the Queen, and Amber was the result. Today was her birthday. He was protector and wanderer, conqueror of more hearts than her mother was pleased with, but over all, he was Amber's father.

And he was away, protecting the Queen, trading with mortals.

Amber cursed him. Her mother was at court. There she studied the mortal ways and was consul to the Seelie
Court. Amber cursed her too.

"Amber! It's time for your lessons!"

"Yes Aunt Liane! I'm coming!"

She sighed. Today was going to be a long day.

A black raven alighted from outside her window and dived, spiralling, til it hit the ground with a muffled thump, spine snapping.

II

Estelle skipped across the afternoon sky, hidden by the light of the sun. It was her day. Her day to visit, chosen as she was by the Council of Night in their dances, to trip down through the clouds and meet with the fey. She would renew magick in the land, and in return they would give the stars light.

And the night sky would blaze with beauty.

Catching a breeze, she floated down, down, down, white shift billowing in the crisp, chill high air, warming as she neared the ground.

III

"One more time. Concentrate. Focus your will as a knife. Cut the stone cleanly in one strike"

Amber focused for what seemed to be the thousandeth time, and the rock shook, turned red hot, and exploded.

"Well, atleast you did something", Liane remarked dryly.

Amber was frustrated. Maybe that was why the rock exploded. She glanced at the fragments. They were like her birthday really. Ruined. Broken.

She sensed, no, knew, that Liane was secretly pleased. Well, it had been the first time she did something apart from glare at stones and frown. She was mostly useless at combat, healing or other white magicks. Dark magicks she had not yet learned, but they were notoriously difficult. She was good with glamours and what her father called "empathy", but quite hopeless otherwise. She sighed.

A piece of blasted rock hissed. It was starting to rain. Droplets came down, and as the wind began to pick up, swept the clearing.

"Time to go", Liane said.

"About time", Amber muttered.

"What was that?", Liane snapped jokingly.

"Nothing mam!", Amber replied smartly.

Although Liane and Amber were aunt and niece, and they were close. Will, Amber's father, was often away, and her mother was inept at the craft, so her education was Liane's responsibility. She was like an older sister to Amber. Their teacher-pupil relationship was a farce, a private joke ever since Will had declared that the two "Weren't nearly serious enough".

Liane cast a glamour with a wink, appearing as a golden-blonde cat the same colour as her hair. She had not actually transformed of course, no one could do that, but the illusion would be enough to get through the forest unmolested by the tree-spirits. Amber followed suit, turning into a platinium-white kitten. Together they bounded back towards the castle.

IV

"Greetings young star". Elsea motioned towards Estelle, extending a hand.

"Just a short walk to the palace"

Estelle was puzzled, but consented. Surely she could mean no harm.

V

Amber and Liane slinked into the castle. Maintaining the feline illusion, they slipped into their secret entrance: the servant's kitchen. Her grandmother would have a fit if she knew, but no one suspected them.

The rain was getting heavier, and to add verismillitude to their disguises
they allowed some of the wetness of their clothes to drip, leaving wet pawprints and appearing soaked.

The wards, of course, would sense them and pierce the illusions easily, but they would identify them and let them
in. The Queen and King would only know that they entered, not how or from where. If, of course, they were paying attention. Most of the time, they ignored the magickal pulses from the wards. After all, they already only let known fey in, burning all others to ash unless they carried the King's seal.

Amber's father had helped to craft the wards when they had to be replaced, and so gave Amber a bit more freedom, which he later extended to her tutor.

Liane jumped through the doorway and padded forward. Amber followed suit, but was caught in mid leap. Her skin prickled, and her illusionary self smoked. She cried out in pain, loosing the thread if power sustaining the glamour in agony. Suddenly the pain stopped. Amber crumpled acrose the doorway, the hem of her dress singed. Her skin and hair though, were untouched, save the small bruise from where she had hit the floor after the ward halted its assault. Liane, glamour removed, carried Amber past the astounded servants bearing trays and bowls of food.

An eyelid cracked open.

Ugh, thought Amber. This day is even worse than I thought it would be. Drowsily, exhausted and with a faint headache, she lost consciousness in the gentle sway of Liane's hold.

An old woman in black, chopping up meat from a recent hunt, left the kitchen and calmy stabbed herself in the heart, methodically twisting and yanking for a faster death.

VI

"There are three things I don't understand. One, why didn't the wards let her in? If there is something wrong with their senses we need to check with the Queen. Secondly, if it wanted to keep her out, why didn't she die? Thirdly, why didn't they stop her once she killed the glamour? If a thirteen-year-old's glamour can baffle those spells we should really be worried."

Amber opened her eyes and saw two Lianes staring down at her. No, Liane and her sister Elsea. But she had not seen Elsea since she was six...

Her vision lapsed back into darkness.

VI

She was swimming in a sea of darkness. A light, and a tall, pale, shining figure. It beckoned. White light. Warmth. "I will see you when you wake" the figure said. The voice was feminine, musical, like thousands of chiming bells sounding softly. The very words seemed to twinkle and shine.

VII

Amber woke in her bed. Something wet and dark pooled between her legs and soaked the sheets. Blearily she caught some of the liquid with her finger and brought it up to her face. Blood. It's ruby-red colour was clear in the warm mage-light of her bedside latern. She felt sick. She had never seen this much blood before. She got up, legs unsteady, and heaved herself heavily to the window. Blood ran in rivulets down her legs.

"Mother!" She cried out.

VIII

"A day late"

"Yes, yes, but she is halfblood after all"

"The star is ready"

"Oh, go away"

A figure of the Folk slipped away into the shadows, melting into them with each step, til she was no more.

And a little blackbird gave up it's life, like a candle extinguished by the cold midnight wind.

IX

Amber, wearing the the woven starshine dress of a Lady of the Court, descended the spiralling staircase. Uncertainty tainted her step and fear gnawed at her heart. Her mother had arrived, but carried news. She had been summoned to the Seelie Court at midday.

She could have flown down, of course, could have grown her own first pair of wings, chosen their colour, declared her maturity more openly, but somehow it did not seem fitting. Today was special, but not a celebratory, joyous day. It was a day of beginnings, of changes and new stories.

If she had known that she felt this, it was overshadowed, overshadowed by fear. Had the Court found out about her entrances into the castle? Surely it was not important enough to be
brought to court, but the workings of the Fey never made sense.

The workings of Fey never made sense. How true, she thought, how true.

I don't make much sense either.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

Alyss

2010-06-15T20:41:00.003+08:00

the following was written by Amy and I. I started and we then took turns. Conclusion (italics) by me.

Alyss
A walk in the park
~
the voice of a lark
~
the tinge of song, and the coming dawn
~
rustling leaves ,
in the forest breeze
~
and the silent cry,
of the mockingbird's sigh
~
softly tread on leaves of red
~
and skip across the little brook,
vault over the thorns and take a look.
~
a gold-tipped butterfly flew past her face
with widening eyes she said "what is this place?"
~
and no one answered, til a little leaf flew away,
then all was quiet, as never is by day.
~
carefully, cautiously, she felt in the dark
searching for some sign or some mark
~
a splash of a puddle, a reflection of the moon,
and little Alyss fell through far too soon.
~
tumble and stumble, fast yet slow
when she would stop, she did not know
flying? floating? sinking through air?
she knew where she was, yet she knew not where
~
neither reason nor rhyme,
could help her this time,
so Alyss turned to another.
"Alyss?" asked she,
do you know where we may be,
and if so where might we be going?
~
"oh my" Alyss replied, "what a bother,
it appears there's another me!"
"Look, Alyss!" exclaimed Alyss. "Why, dear me!"
"The ground seems to be approaching!"
~
"approaching? more like enchroaching!"
oh dear oh my.
I wonder if...no it can't be" Alyss did sigh.
Alyss looked at Alyss and decided it was
quite strange indeed,
to have two of herself, two voices to heed.
Then while little Alyss mused this thought away,
she came to land: in a bale of hay.
~
"Queer, indeed, this appears to be.
Wherever am I, i mean, are we?"
And then as they paced the floor,
out pops a small sweet-pink door.
She-They- searched for a knob or catch,
But nothing they did could lift the latch.
Suddenly, a table materialized
Right before their very eyes
Three-legged, glass, was the table.
On it, a bottle, on its neck a label.
"Drink me" the label said.
But a decision could not be made.
~
"Drink me? most suspicious,
most interesting indeed"
I'de better be careful, Alyss,
whose advice shall I heed?"
Alyss looked to Alyss and she said,
"Well, could it be poison, this little drink?
Well, it doesn't seem strange,
neither does it stink"
"Well, Alyss, let's try and see,
there's no telling, no clue,
whatever it may be."
Alyss then concurred, one and two.
Alyss picked up the bottle
and tilted her head back
And then, with one great gulp
she swallowed the liquid black.
~
"Strange, indeed, this seems to be.
It does not taste bad at all."
But little did the Alysses know
That they were becoming small.
"Oh dear, oh my, i forgot the key!"
Alyss cried despairingly.
If she had known she'd be 10 inches tall
she would not have drunk at all
A glint, a shimmer, and suddenly
A little glass box appeared
"Eat me, it says, ha! How silly!
How ridiculous and absurd!"
Obstinately she turned around
But no other solution has she found
Defeated, she plucked off a current
Lest she becomes too big a giant
~
"Hello arms, hello feet,
why you seem so far away,"
Alyss looked down once more,
"Why, so much more than yesterday!"
And against the ceiling, Alyss found herself,
To tall, Alyss felt, for her to be herself.
"Ouch!" She cried as she bumped her head,
"How will I ever, ever fit into bed?"
"This makes no sense!
No sense at all!
I'm far too large
to be Alyss-small!"
"Well, who could I be?
And what about you?"
Alyss asked Alyss,
Although she still grew.
~
At last when she stopped
she was 3-storeys high!
Poor Alyss could hardly move
Poor Alyss could barely try.
~
And Alyss, dear Alyss,
began to cry.
~
She cried so much
She cried so hard
The tears rolled down her cheeks
They stained her skirt
They wet her dress
They gathered at her feet
~
"Now, Alyss", Alyss chided,
"Don't cry, stop it this instant!"
"There's no time,
for another miscreant"
And she was right,
for as a giant you see,
her tears were changing,
the room to a sea.
Then Alyss an idea she had,
Remembering the bottle, a drink
Recalling before,
so she may shrink.
~
She picked the labelled bottle up
Daintily, for it was small
Desperately, before the ceiling broke
She drank it all
~
Down came Alyss, limbs and crown and all,
quite forgetting a detail.
"Oh dear, My tears!, I'm far too small!"
Alyss, now swimming, did wail.
She then grabbed the heavy brass key,
as it bobbed pass far too merrily,
(for somehow or other it floated)
"Oof!" she cried, as, she swam into a door, quite so accidentally.
This luck, Alyss thought much good fun,
if such a strange day could be a good one.
She opened door with brass key in hand,
Water rushed out, and something caught her hand.
~
"You, over there," a voice thundered
"come here, play croquet with me,"
Alyss could not believe what she heard
Neither what she could see
A queen, in red and arms akimbo
A flamingo at hand and porcupine below
which desperately tried to burrow
itself before anyone should know
~
Alyss looked at the queen and she looked back,
remembering her truly sad lack.
Of experience playing croquet.
"Your highness, I fear I cannot say"
"Nonsense my dear! Come at once!
I refuse to allow you to be such a dunce!
Come here and play or else it will be said,
that indeed girl, off with your head!"
It was indeed fortunate,
at this hour, not too with a tut.
A rabbit, in waistcoat, bearing watch-chain entered,
and said, "Your highness, a new bird"
So he passed a new flamingo to the queen,
Alyss stole off, quite unnoticed and unseen.
Running across the floor so quick,
as if flames her little feet did lick.
~
And suddenly she fell head over heels
over and over as if on wheels
she stood and saw, to her shock,
two small round men; she could barely talk
"hello, good day, your name would be?
im tweedledum, he's tweedledee"
Alyss regained her cat-gotten tongue
and from her lips odd words sprung
"Do cats eat bats? do bats eat cats?
Oh my, i've only seen Dinah eat rats!"
Would you two kindly bring her here?
Oh, how i miss my Dinah dear"
~
"Well that's a strange one",
said Tweedlee to Tweedledum
"Not strange at all, unless she is",
What is your name little miss?"
"Alyss" Alyss said, quite over her head,
wondering still if it were time for bed.
I must have gone quite mad, quite really mad,
to be thinking of that, oh Alyss bad.
Pinching herself, she scolded herself,
(For Alyss was not a child she knew sanity's wealth)
"She's Alyss!" "No she's not, stupid, you"
"We need to ask the caterpillar blue"
A smile appeared, floating in the air,
all tooth and eyes, not a single hair.
"I'll take her", said a voice, issued from the smile,
"I'll take her to him, a foot for a mile"
~
"What are you?" Alyss gasped, amazed.
"oh, I am confused, I am dazed."
Fading in, it said "A Cheshire cat,
Don't be surprised, dear girl, don't fret"
"I must certainly be quite mad, to be
seeing cats appear out of nowhere!"
It purred "Certainly not quite as mad as me
Come along, now, lets visit the March Hare,"
~
What of the caterpillar?", "Oh, he can wait"
"But move along my dear, or we shall be late"
Little Alyss, followed the cat,
as he hummed a tune, Alyss heard the word "Hat".
~
Hat?" Alyss thought "well, i should like one!
Perhaps pink, blue, and oh! Ribbons and bows!
"Alyss, hurry up, if you must, run.
Oh look, its the red queen, there she goes,"
~
Not long hence, Alyss came to meet,
a couple of fellows who leapt up to greet.
"Hatter's the name, Hatter at your service",
"March Hare they call me...DISH!"
With that shout a saucer flee past her head,
Hatter said to Alyss, "Jam and bread?
or stay for teatime? It's a marvelous rest
tell me, why is a raven like a writing desk?"
"i have no idea, none at all
My apologies dear Hatter but since my fall,
everything seems to strange in my mind,
this riddle the answer I cannot find"
"Well, what is the answer then?"
Alyss asked, counting to ten
(For she wanted to know if her numbers were right)
"I've no idea at all! But look at the light!"
"It's getting late, come over here,
And Hatter will send you off dear.
Climb aboard, hold on tight, yes that's the way!"
Places he Alyss upon his hat to go on her way
~
Come now, Snowdrop,
Come now Kitty,
Come here to Dinah, it’s time to go.
No, no my dears, the story’s a bit off,
the verse and rhythm not straight or posh.
Then again, we’re cat’s and we say what we like,
isn’t that right? now come it is night.

I'm sitting alone wondering if you'll call. or should i do something? or should I fall?

2010-06-13T21:26:00.001+08:00

there are silences between us,
between every word we say.
each silence another meaning,
ten thousand everyday.
there are silences of sadness,
and those of breath to take.
that silence that mean's I'm thinking,
the one that asks if youre awake.
there's the silence wondering if things changed,
the silence of hopeful intent,
the silence waiting for you to say it,
the silence thinking what you meant.
there's the silence of mournful contemplation,
the silence of unexpressed love.
the silence of a thousand moments,
just wishing for help from above.
the silence of needing you to trust me,
the silence wanting you to start,
the silence that closes eyelids,
the silence that opens your heart.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

the girl by the wishing well

2010-06-13T18:34:00.000+08:00

The Girl By The Wishing Well

Long ago a young girl used to spend her days, dawn to dusk, by an old well on a hill. Storms would come, wind would sweep her choppy black hair up and tumble it down across her eyes, lightning lit her view scorching bright, but she would remain there, thoughtfully lying on the ground watching the clouds. Her eyes held the intensity of a dreamer, and she never once looked at the well. Her mother would come every day to drag her home, but her eyes never let the reflection of the sky leave them.

By night she dreamed of the starry velvet of the heavens.

One day a boy came to draw watee from the well. No one ever did, for the water that came from it tasted metallic and old. But he came, bucket in hand and tousled brown hair carrying bits of bramble and leaves. He climbed up to the well, and with careful tread walked over to the winch and loweres his bucket down into the damp depths. It was then that the storm came.

Alarmed, the boy took off his oiled-leather overcoat and held it over the girl.

"Get it off! You're blocking the sky!"
the girl cried, lips unused to the unfamiliar taste of the words.

"But you'll get sick!"

"I'll get better!"

Lightning-streamers trailed from the boy's fingertips and up. The girl knew what that meant. She tugged his leg and he fell flat on his face. His momentum carried the two of them rolling down the hill. Behind them, lightning flashed.

Brushing herself off, the girl said softly. "Stupid boy."

The boy lay dazed.

"It isn't a water well anyway you idiot. It's a wishing well"

"Well, what did you wish for then?" The boy said, snapping out of his astonishment.

"An angel".

"Well, I'm no angel, but nice to meet you"

He got to his feet, pulled a few leaves out of his hair and offered a hand, grinning.

She refused the proffered hand, walking away herself.

Unfortunately, the ground seemed
more wobbly than usual, and she fell.

The boy caught her before she hit the ground.

"Shall we try that again? Hello, my name is Michael. What's yours?"

Dear Diary

2010-06-08T20:53:00.001+08:00

it's true, I feel so far away,
so far away from you dear.
Come, these voices that entice,
are nothing next to you dear.
But every time I see your face,
and I hold you tight dear.
we, have to part our ways
and I fear you forget dear.
Sometimes it feels like love,
it is a game dear.
And I'm playing all my cards,
while you sit and watch dear.
It's not that bad a game,
unless I lose dear.
But I, I want you to play,
play and win or lose dear.
Just try, come on play your hand,
just don't lose faith dear.
Know, whatever may come,
you'll always have my heart dear.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

Amber and The Star I-VI

2010-06-08T15:27:00.001+08:00

added prelude and several bits, edited ad added another segment.

Amber and the Star

Prelude

The stars watched the faerie child.

It was the night before her thirteenth birthday. Watching out of the window, once her mother's, now hers, she caught a glimpse of a falling star. Rubbing her eyes, she yawned wearily. She wanted to see the dawn of her maidenhood. Yet her body betrayed her. Her eyelids fluttered and she consented to lie in her bed. Instinctively pulling the covers over her, she turned over and slept.

Fallen star, oh fallen star,
Take me away to lands afar,
let me see that place beyond,
take me, please as here comes dawn.

In dreaming, she uttered these words, and in reply the heavens sang.

Wish upon a falling star,
my dear, you must look far.
Catch it by it's tail and ask,
for any gift or any task.
Remember though, that the tongue is a blade,
every gift a gift repaid.

Amber slept dreamlessly that night, so still one would think she slept the eternal slumber. Something in her twisted, changed, grew. Sonething with claws and eyes that glimmered in the night.

And all the night was still.

I

Amber sulked in her room. Twisting one platinium hair around her finger, she fumed at her father. He had refused to take her to Neverevermore. Her mother had come from there, and although she knew little of it, her small stature, dark hair and rounded ears attested to the strangeness of that world.

It was the thirteenth sun of the thirteenth moon of the Bridge Year, the one day when all portals between the two realms swung open for precious little time, when The Folk and the humans mixed, traded, met and sometimes interbred. Today was the only day the Fey could leave Faerie, though mortals often entered by mistake. It was this day, thirteen years ago, that Amber was born. Her mother had actually come to Faerie sixteen years before, but it was only later that she met her father.

Her father. The Moonlit Shadow, The Raven of the Dark Forest, once a lowly groundskeeper, now risen through years of service to Chief Ranger of Faerie. The flash of his blade was feared, his aim unerring. He had wed the human daughter of the Queen, and Amber was the result. Today was her birthday. He was protector and wanderer, conqueror of more hearts than her mother was pleased with, but over all, he was Amber's father.

And he was away, protecting the Queen, trading with mortals.

Amber cursed him. Her mother was at court. There she studied the mortal ways and was consul to the Seelie
Court. Amber cursed her too.

"Amber! It's time for your lessons!"

"Yes Aunt Liane! I'm coming!"

She sighed. Today was going to be a long day.

A black raven alighted from outside her window and dived, spiralling, til it hit the ground with a muffled thump, spine snapping.

II

Estelle skipped across the afternoon sky, hidden by the light of the sun. It was her day. Her day to visit, chosen as she was by the Council of Night in their dances, to trip down through the clouds and meet with the fey. She would renew magick in the land, and in return they would give the stars light.

And the night sky would blaze with beauty.

Catching a breeze, she floated down, down, down, white shift billowing in the crisp, chill high air, warming as she neared the ground.

III

"One more time. Concentrate. Focus your will as a knife. Cut the stone cleanly in one strike"

Amber focused for what seemed to be the thousandeth time, and the rock shook, turned red hot, and exploded.

"Well, atleast you did something", Liane remarked dryly.

Amber was frustrated. Maybe that was why the rock exploded. She glanced at the fragments. They were like her birthday really. Ruined. Broken.

She sensed, no, knew, that Liane was secretly pleased. Well, it had been the first time she did something apart from glare at stones and frown. She was mostly useless at combat, healing or other white magicks. Dark magicks she had not yet learned, but they were notoriously difficult. She was good with glamours and what her father called "empathy", but quite hopeless otherwise. She sighed.

A piece of blasted rock hissed. It was starting to rain. Droplets came down, and as the wind began to pick up, swept the clearing.

"Time to go", Liane said.

"About time", Amber muttered.

"What was that?", Liane snapped jokingly.

"Nothing mam!", Amber replied smartly.

Although Liane and Amber were aunt and niece, and they were close. Will, Amber's father, was often away, and her mother was inept at the craft, so her education was Liane's responsibility. She was like an older sister to Amber. Their teacher-pupil relationship was a farce, a private joke ever since Will had declared that the two "Weren't nearly serious enough".

Liane cast a glamour with a wink, appearing as a golden-blonde cat the same colour as her hair. She had not actually transformed of course, no one could do that, but the illusion would be enough to get through the forest unmolested by the tree-spirits. Amber followed suit, turning into a platinium-white kitten. Together they bounded back towards the castle.

IV

"Greetings young star". Elsea motioned towards Estelle, extending a hand.

"Just a short walk to the palace"

Estelle was puzzled, but consented. Surely she could mean no harm.

V

Amber and Liane slinked into the castle. Maintaining the feline illusion, they slipped into their secret entrance: the servant's kitchen. Her grandmother would have a fit if she knew, but no one suspected them.

The rain was getting heavier, and to add verismillitude to their disguises
they allowed some of the wetness of their clothes to drip, leaving wet pawprints and appearing soaked.

The wards, of course, would sense them and pierce the illusions easily, but they would identify them and let them
in. The Queen and King would only know that they entered, not how or from where. If, of course, they were paying attention. Most of the time, they ignored the magickal pulses from the wards. After all, they already only let known fey in, burning all others to ash unless they carried the King's seal.

Amber's father had helped to craft the wards when they had to be replaced, and so gave Amber a bit more freedom, which he later extended to her tutor.

Liane jumped through the doorway and padded forward. Amber followed suit, but was caught in mid leap. Her skin prickled, and her illusionary self smoked. She cried out in pain, loosing the thread if power sustaining the glamour in agony. Suddenly the pain stopped. Amber crumpled acrose the doorway, the hem of her dress singed. Her skin and hair though, were untouched, save the small bruise from where she had hit the floor after the ward halted its assault. Liane, glamour removed, carried Amber past the astounded servants bearing trays and bowls of food.

An eyelid cracked open.

Ugh, thought Amber. This day is even worse than I thought it would be. Drowsily, exhausted and with a faint headache, she lost consciousness in the gentle sway of Liane's hold.

An old woman in black, chopping up meat from a recent hunt, left the kitchen and calmy stabbed herself in the heart, methodically twisting and yanking for a faster death.

VI

"There are three things I don't understand. One, why didn't the wards let her in? If there is something wrong with their senses we need to check with the Queen. Secondly, if it wanted to keep her out, why didn't she die? Thirdly, why didn't they stop her once she killed the glamour? If a thirteen-year-old's glamour can baffle those spells we should really be worried."

Amber opened her eyes and saw two Lianes staring down at her. No, Liane and her sister Elsea. But she had not seen Elsea since she was six...

Her vision lapsed back into darkness.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

Amber and the Star I-III

2010-06-04T23:25:00.001+08:00

this is practically just the introduction. a lot more to go but felt like posting. heh. might recognise those involved (see Faerie Tale)

Amber and the Star

Wish upon a falling star,
my dear, you must look far.
Catch it by it's tail and ask,
for any gift or any task.
Remember though, that the tongue is a blade,
every gift a gift repaid.

I

Amber sulked in her room. Twisting one platinium hair around her finger, she fumed at her father. He had refused to take her to Neverevermore. Her mother had come from there, and although she knew little of it, her small stature, dark hair and rounded ears attested to the strangeness of that world.

It was the thirteenth sun of the thirteenth moon of the Bridge Year, the one day when all portals between the two realms swung open for precious little time, when The Folk and the humans mixed, traded, met and sometimes interbred. Today was the only day the Fey could leave Faerie, though mortals often entered by mistake. It was this day, thirteen years ago, that Amber was born. Her mother had actually come to Faerie sixteen years before, but it was only later that she met her father.

Her father. The Moonlit Shadow, The Raven of the Dark Forest, once a lowly groundskeeper, now risen through years of service to Chief Ranger of Faerie. The flash of his blade was feared, his aim unerring. He had wed the human daughter of the Queen, and Amber was the result. Today was her birthday.

And he was away, protecting the Queen, trading with mortals.

Amber cursed him. Her mother at court. There she studied the mortal ways and was consul to the Seelie
Court. Amber cursed her too.

"Amber! It's time for your lessons!"

"Yes Aunt Liane! I'm coming!"

She sighed. Today was going to be a long day.

A black raven alighted from outside her window and dived, spiralling, til it hit the ground with a muffled thump, spine snapping.

II

Estelle skipped across the afternoon sky, hidden by the light of the sun. It was her day. Her day to visit, chosen as she was by the Council of Night in their dances, to trip down through the clouds and meet with the fey. She would renew magick in the land, and in return they would give the stars light.

And the night sky would blaze with beauty.

Catching a breeze, she floated down, down, down, white shift billowing in the crisp, chill high air, warming as she neared the ground.

III

"One more time. Concentrate. Focus your will as a knife. Cut the stone cleanly in one strike"

Amber focused for what seemed to be the thousandeth time, and the rock shook, turned red hot, and exploded.

"Well, atleast you did something", Liane remarked dryly.

Amber was frustrated. Maybe that was why the rock exploded. She glanced at the fragments. They were like her birthday really. Ruined. Broken.

A piece of blasted rock hissed. It was starting to rain. Droplets came down, and as the wind began to pick up, swept the clearing.

"Time to go", Liane said.

"About time", Amber muttered.

"What was that?", Liane snapped jokingly.

"Nothing mam!", Amber replied smartly.

Although Liane and Amber were aunt and niece, and they were close. Will, Amber's father, was often away, and her mother was inept at the craft, so her education was Liane's responsibility. She was like an older sister to Amber. Their teacher-pupil relationship was a farce, a private joke ever since Will had declared that the two "Weren't nearly serious enough". While the lessons were not her favourite part of each day by far, Amber's rapport with Liane helped them be bearable.

Liane cast a glamour with a wink, appearing as a golden-blonde cat the same colour as her hair. She had not actually transformed of course, no one could do that, but the illusion would be enough to get through the forest unmolested by the tree-spirits. Amber followed suit, turning into a platinium-white kitten. Together they bounded back towards the castle.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.

the poet and the swan (edited)

2010-06-04T18:17:00.001+08:00

the poet and the swan

Once upon a time, in a faraway land called Neverevermore, there lived a sad little poet. His name was Nathaniel, but all who knew him called him Nat. Nat stayed in the forest, where he had a small little hut he called his sanctuary. By day he scribbled with ink on parchment, trying to write a poem.

For this was his failure: calling himself a poet, he had not yet written a single line of verse. By night he would visit the nearby lake, where by moonlight he would skip stones on the crystal waters and gaze at the moon. When the first clouds covered the moon, he would trudge back home, where he would sleep fitfully, crying out with the ghosts of demons in his nightmares.

His friends he had left behind long ago, as they demanded he spent time with them in the noisy tavern in the nearby town.

One day, Nathaniel fell asleep at his desk, dreaming of faraway places and beautiful futures. When he woke, he wrote

“Under the moonlight,
Past the milky twilight,
I…”

His victory was bittersweet. He strove to complete the verse, but could not.
Halfway between laughter and tears, he decided to go out to the lake, which he had never seen by day.

Plodding down the muddy but clear path that his feet knew so well, Nathaniel found his way to the lake. Pushing aside the reeds, he sat on his favourite stone. Looking around, he marveled at how changed the place was in daylight. Looking up for the moon, the sun scorched his eyes. Closing them for a moment, he looked around again. Blinking the spots from his eyes, he noticed something. Lying in the water, a little way off, was a girl, dressed in the purest white. He dress cascaded in ripples and folds in the water, and the shallow rise of her chest was the only indication that she lived.

Pulling off his boots, Nathaniel dived into the water and swam over to her. Hauling her over his shoulder, half drowning, half swimming, he struggled and managed to get her to the shore. Bending over her he reached down to check for her heartbeat.

And her eyes flew open. Deep brown they were, flecked with black, ringed with light. She gasped, and coughing, clutched Nathaniel’s arm. Holding her until she stopped coughing, Nathaniel’s heartbeat sped, raced, flew. Without realizing it he realized he was holding the girl to his chest. Surprising him, she leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Why is your heart beating so fast?’

Nathaniel wished he knew.

Later on in the day and the girl was in Nathaniel’s shed, drinking honeyed tea and staring at everything in wonder. Embarrassed and nervous, Nathaniel continually tugged at his muddied clothes, and tried not to show how he felt.

The girl smiled and Nathaniel’s heart leapt.
Nathaniel looked at her. “You’re beautiful”
She looked at herself “I think not”
Nathaniel shook his head.
She smiled, and he could not have resisted any longer. He broke into a grin.

And so passed most of the day. Quill and parchment lay forgotten on the table as Nathaniel and the girl, who had no name, but Nathaniel had chosen to call Beloved (his secret pleasure as she knew not what it meant) laughed and talked. No one had laughed with him truly before, and when he fell from his chair in nervousness, she examined his small bruise as if it were a fatal wound. He could not help himself and wrapped his arms around her and squeezed in a hug. Surprised, she squeezed him back. Before he knew it his lips were pressed against hers, hot, moist, soft, enveloping his heart in a gentle warmth that spread like fire throughout his veins. She flushed pale pink on her fair skin, and her silken hair covered them both.

Breaking the kiss, Nathaniel apologized. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that". She shook her head, and the look in her eyes was bright with a spark of something.

The next day, when Nathaniel woke, the girl was gone.

He searched everywhere. He ran out of the house, down the path and to where he had found her. Nothing, save a white dress floating on the water. Desperate, he fetched it, and sobbing, held it to his tear-stained eyes.

Night came and Nathaniel remained by the waters. The moon came, bright in the sky, and as Nathaniel gazed into the dappled light on the waters, he felt a soft tap on his shoulder.

Turning around, he saw a white swan. He pet it’s soft side, still crying. Turning back to the dress, he noticed it was gone from his hands and began to weep bitterly.

A soft, warm breath on his neck. He turned.
And there stood the girl

“I cannot stay”

“I will go with you”

Nathaniel kissed the girl once more, under the moonlight,
“You really are beautiful,

and I love you”

The girl smiled and Nathaniel’s heart warmed from within. It wasn't that hard, thought Nat. It was never that hard.

Two swans flew together towards the moon. They circled around each other, white wings reflecting the wan light, and were gone.

At the desk, words appeared on the parchment, completing the verse

“Under the moonlight,
Past the milky twilight,
I found you,
Found how love is true.”

Sometimes love can be given in more ways than one. Sometimes the greatest gift is to receive graciously.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"

out.