| If there is anything I have learned it's this: There is always something wonderful to look forward to. |
~blackpearleyes
Noelle Pico | beautybedamned |Plans.
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A love story.*A love story.
When my father first met my mother, she was standing with one arm drawn across her stomach; the wrist of that arm anchoring her other elbow as if the weight of unsaid things was too heavy for the hand and fingers curled over her mouth.
The photograph she was looking at was a print of a little girl about the age of three, gap-toothed and bright-eyed as small cupped hands offered up a flower. Though the intended focus was the girl, there was a bigger story around her -- drops of water on lashes and petals, one soft thing to another, told of rain. The flush on cheeks; of laughter and the e
by ~blackpearleyes
In Reflection.In Reflection
Do not worry; I have asked them to cut a branch from the bamboo that still sits outside of our old home. We do not need it to be much, a small one will be enough
and we will watch it grow, tracing a path up from the clay pot that will be a little bit bigger every year. You and I, we will go and sit to see the stems strain; these little hands that
grasp for touch. The elongated neck of a snail that inches itself towards where it wants to be.
.
by ~blackpearleyes
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Twisting Skeins of Time - 0PrologueTwisting Skeins of Time - 0
"One! Two! Three! Four! Keep your arm steady!"
THWACK! THWACK! CLACK!
Her heart pounded against her ribcage, her mouth open slightly as she tried to draw in as much air as she could. That was, however, proving to be a rather difficult feat to accomplish, especially given the fact that she was wearing a helmet that restricted the amount of sound that flowed to her ears, as well as the amount of air that she could breathe.
Through the bars of the cage-like metal piece that covered her face and protected it from any blows that may accidentally come that way, she watched her opponent ci
by ~autobotvierge
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Manila, Philippines
- Interests: writing, reading, music, dance, art
- Favourite movie: Lord of the Rings, The Last Unicorn, CenterStage, Transformers 2K7, The Italian Job
- Favourite band or musician: Vienna Teng
- Favourite genre of music: I'll listen to anything.
- Favourite artist: Brian Froud, ~Oniwanbashu, *nati
- Favourite poet or writer: (Writers) Tolkien, Lisa Carey, Guy Gavriel Kay, Peter S. Beagle, Gaiman; (Poet) Alunan, Lorca
- MP3 player of choice: My Sony w810i phone.
- Favourite game: text-based RPGs via journal sites
- Personal Quote: Let's not go there.
- Website: http://mlina.livejournal.com
- Email: beautybedamned@yahoo.com
- AIM: beautybedamned
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She thinks now, because she cannot be sure, but that plastic bag must have sailed away, forgotten, with the fuel leak that trailed a dark rainbow behind the whir of the big boat’s engine.
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She thinks now, because she cannot be sure, but that plastic bag must have sailed away, forgotten, with the fuel leak that trailed a dark rainbow behind the whir of the big boat’s engine.
beautiful writing
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quite.
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She thinks now, because she cannot be sure, but that plastic bag must have sailed away, forgotten, with the fuel leak that trailed a dark rainbow behind the whir of the big boat’s engine.
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