Through the Lion's Teeth

I like those fields with tall green grass. :)

2010-09-12T21:34:00.000-03:00

So I was trying to get in the writing mood for my story that's due tomorrow for English. The one based on a life changing experience. I'm struggling with this assignment, despite my initial hopes that it would be a breeze. The fact that the teacher requires lots of description is a real bother to me. I know it's a very important aspect to a narrative but HELL I don't naturally have the talent for description, which is why I use to keep such things to a minimum in my little story attempts.

This I wrote in attempts to loosen myself up. This was easy to write, because I didn't feel restrained by the need to frikkin' describe. And some people may call that poor writing. So be it! I prefer it and I wish I could write my paper like this. ;o;

Anyway... I'll have to pray my English teacher won't ask for it tomorrow. D: (Also if you're wondering why it ends for no reason, it's 'cause I didn't have time to finish. So 'tis a drabble or whatever you call it.)

I could smell the scent of the moist earth filling my nostrils, as I walked with my bare feet through the lime-green, high grass that sunny afternoon. The sun was still high in the sky, its rays tingling my skin after a long time in my room.

Mama had locked me in my room after asking about Stuart, her recent boyfriend. She seemed frightened and shocked by this, her face growin’ white like a sheet of paper while she grabbed nervously at her short, dark chocolate brown curls as if looking for a lost screw.

I couldn’t understand why she would react like that. Stuart seemed like a nice fellow, for all I could tell, but Mama sure didn’t seem to like me mentioning his name. Before I could say anymore she grabbed my right arm firmly with her skinny fingers and brought me to my room, told me to sit down on my bed and to think about what I had said. Mama then quickly closed the door and a couple seconds later I heard the sound of the lock being turned. She really locked me in. Mama clearly lost some of her marbles.

I sat there in my dark room, the only window was facing the wooden fence that blocked most of the sunlight during the morning. I glanced at that very window, feeling a soft breeze. That is when I noticed that the window wasn’t ever locked and I could still fit in through it if I opened it a wee bit more.

That was it. I wasn’t going to sit here and figure out what was wrong with Mama or wait for her to come back. She obviously didn’t want anything with me at the moment. So I got down from my bed (...)

Moonlight

2010-05-04T18:09:00.003-03:00

I don't like it when there is no night,
With the moonlight
and the starts a bright,
Where that light
brightens up the void inside.

First attempted poem in ages! The first couple lines came from real frustration as I walked across the balcony to see there were no bright stars or intense moonlight this evening, only clouds which made it seem darker. I really like those moon lit nights better.

P.S. OK, so it doesn't seem much like poetry. But I had to try with something!

New layout!

2010-03-30T14:05:00.001-03:00

I've always wanted something like a layout that could really represent this blog. And I made it! I used a sketch of a lion found on google search as a reference to make the one you're seeing now. It was fun! The "ROAR" was just me trying to be amusing. Hope you like it!

Oh, and yes... I took it in a literal sense. But that's what makes it fun! :D

John Part 3 (Draft)

2010-02-17T22:04:00.000-03:00

Remember that "John" story I had a while ago? Quite a while ago, actually. But I was re-reading what I had posted here and I felt like writing a continuation... I couldn't get into the "I'm depressed," mood he had going, though. So it doesn't even sound like him. It might as well be somebody totally different. *pouts*

Anyway, since I am now going to post everything I write here, no matter how much I shun it, here it is.

2:30 PM
You know that sound of the bell that rings as a new costumer comes into a store? Some people find it annoying, others get startled by it, but today I found it comforting, as I walked through the door of Wise is Wiser bookstore.
As I expected, many people decided to warm up inside the store as they searched for their next book to read. Or not, since I’ve had experienced people coming here just to test their latest pick-up lines.

I approached my way to the register, past the counter, and into the employees only room, where I changed into my daily uniform. White shirt, jeans, black shoes and a blue apron with the logo of the store on it. Don’t ask me why it’s blue, or why the mascot is an owl with glasses. I don’t get it either.
The collar of the apron felt heavy on my neck, but I tried to ignore it, while taking a deep breath and heading out into the jungle full of books.

I didn’t dislike the job entirely. It was easy, actually. All you had to do was pretend you were busy with something, and once a costumer got the courage to talk to you, you’d help them with whatever book troubles they had. It only got annoying when the teenagers come with their fussy parents, with a huge list of books they need for school.

“It’s only so I can pass,” said a kid once to me. But he didn’t seem like he even cared if they got the books or not. I think I didn’t care either. But today was different. Today I needed to distract myself, and my J.O.B. was the perfect way to do that.

Aha! So there is something!

2009-11-17T21:50:00.000-03:00

I found this as a draft on the posting log. I don't remember now what it was supposed to be about, but I guess I didn't like it enough to post it. I guess it's up to you to say-- although even I can't think of much to say about it. It only gets curious at the end. It's said I wrote it in June. (No wonder I don't remember.)

The man was only a couple meters away, but with every glance of mine, it seemed like he was ever so more distant than in reality. The hallway was full of busy life, many people walking through the hallway in a hurry, others waiting in line like myself for their ticket number.

I was in a bank, waiting for my number to be called, expecting a afternoon full of bills to pay. The line was especially long for being Wednesday.

I peeked at the time, and it was 2 o'clock. Twenty minutes had passed since the wonderful man had entered the building. I wasn't the only one looking at him, for many other women seemed to sigh with every movement that he made. Even mothers with there children could not help but stare.

What's so special about this man? He had this elegance about him. Well dressed and not too young, he was in his golden years of the thirties.

He was nor in the line nor sitting on one of the chairs. He had been reading a small book intently, his glasses complementing his brown eyes. I was dying to know what the book was, but it seemed like a costom made cover made out of leather.

For one second I thought he had taken a glance at me, as I might have stared too long, but when my heart skipped a beat, as he raised his head up to look around, I always seemed mistaken.

It was only until I had 4 people in front of me left, that I realized he was coming towards me. Or at least I thought so. In reality he was greeting a friend, or a coullege, a very tall man in a suit, with the darkest pair of eyes I had ever seen. How did I not notice this man behind me?

"So you're ready, are you?" The dark eyed man asked.
"More than ready, Zac."

So long

2009-11-17T20:50:00.000-03:00

It's been so long since I've last written something, that I'm reluctant to try to now. It's silly, but I'm afraid I have lost the possible style I had, if I had any. Besides, I'm at lost at what to write about.

Well, poetry is off limits at the moment. It's what scares me the most to write. OK, "scares" is a strong word, but I'm the most reluctant to write poetry, because I don't feel the natural flow to do so anymore.

I've had two characters in my mind for years, which started out as fantasy-like mascots and then evolved into a modern, more mature version, non-fantasy-like. I'd like to write about them someday, but I feel the story has become very sad and I almost don't want a happy ending. Isn't that strange. Me, the romantic, doesn't want a happy ending? I mean, yes I like bittersweet, but I hate those stories where you go through an emotional roller-coaster, only to find yourself finishing it with a bad taste in your mouth, thinking "why did I go over the trouble of even reading all of it?".

Besides that, I need to create a good backstory, which I haven't stopped to do at all. And overall I need to create a decent story to back up the characters, other than the already existent fleeting & angst-y emotions.

Basically I haven't made an effort to flesh out a real story. And it's pitiful. v-v

Eventually I want to get back to writing. It was very satisfying to post and see it here. Sadly I have no other record of the older drafts which I never posted on this blog, because I lost them with the last computer I had that died on me. Next time I'm going to either post it all or keep it in a CD. It was fun to look back on the little bits I had written.

"John" continuation.

2008-07-14T21:06:00.000-03:00

If you're wondering where the beginning of this is, just click on the tag of this post. I wanted to write more than just this as a continuation, but... oh well-- I shall do so next time. Btw, the 15 min timeline really worked. I couldn't stop for just 15 min. XD Now all I have to do is try to do that more than just once a week.

“I guess she was no good anyway. It’s not like we had a future or anything, right?”

I brushed the small amount of dust off the glossy picture in my hand. One of the last pictures I had of Denise and I.

At this last question, I turned my head to a complete stranger, as if waiting for an answer. The elderly man beside me merely continued to read his newspaper and drink his coffee; apparently not aware someone was sitting next to him at the counter.

I was at a small café that was only a couple minutes away from home. I seemed to always stop here when the weather wasn’t that great. It was cloudy that day, still wet outside from the recent rain. Most people still had their coats on, despite the heater inside.

I sighed. What happened to clingy women nowadays? They seemed to have vanished. Or at least I seemed to only fall for the complicated ones.

Looking back at the photo, I remembered the day before come back to me. She had left quickly after packing her bags; I had brought myself back to the veranda, not willing to say goodbye anymore. I barely waited for a minute, and she was out the door. Soon enough I could see her slender figure striding across the sidewalk with her bags, looking for a taxi. I was hoping she would turn back once she realized how stupid it was to wait for one to show up at this end of the neighborhood, but she waited stubbornly. Just as I waited stubbornly for her to disappear finally into a car’s door, and off, out of my sight. I regretted not coming down with her later.

I spent the rest of the day in my apartment, just dragging myself from the kitchen to the living room. I hadn’t watched TV for that long in a while. I stayed up till 3 o’clock in the morning, until I realized I had work that day, and grudgingly I went to bed.

Coming out of my thoughts, I put the photo down next to my empty coffee cup, and glanced at my watch. Exactly 2 PM. My work shift would start in a half an hour. If I were planning to get there on time, I would have to get going now.

Timeline

2008-06-09T04:26:00.000-03:00

Okay, so it's nearly 12:30 AM. I should really be in bed, since I have a test tomorrow (writing composition), but aside from that, I simply shouldn't be up this late. Anyway, I know this isn't exactly what you guys want from me, but it's something. So here it is. A poem... after a LONG time. A poem that actually has something to do with how I feel. Normally my poems are irrelevant and have no relation to myself... So this is different. Hope you guys like it.

We sit together.
In cheerful words we laugh,
Exchanging mostly smiles.

We hug in private acknowledgement,
Of our seemingly long journey ahead.

But I am aware of the kitchen’s timer.
I can see it in your eyes.
Although they are so strong,
I know one day you will drift off,
And I will have no one else to talk to.

Sometimes I think of the day I shall hear the alarm.
It rings in my head,
Like a nervous heart-beat.
My very own.

“Don’t think too much ahead,”
“Think of the now—you won’t regret it.”
So many say.
Yet here I am,
Catching your eye once again,
A caring smile falls upon you.
And I am once again shot with the sudden shock,
Of possibly losing you.

[EDIT: And if you're wondering who the heck this could be about, since the possibilities could be relatively endless-- it's supposed to be in regards to my dad. I was in one of my recent mood swings, and with that mood swing, I couldn't help but think about the things that I fear in the future. One of the many is the parting of my dad... ;( ]

My brand new shoes

2007-12-05T22:50:00.000-03:00

I tap my brand new shoes,
On the wooden floor
In a steady rhythm...
In hopes
That the sunset will not be as bright

May I stand strong when the day comes
Please...
To face them.

"No, John."

2007-10-19T03:30:00.000-03:00

Around 9:30PM today, I felt inspired to write. So I did. It was completly random. For some reason I got carried away, as you can see by the time now. Tell me what you think. (Forgive me if this seems over-acted, strange, or unrealistic... )

All ideas and characters © Tsuu (aka Samantha S.) Please don't steal.

Sometimes words are all you need.
All you need,
To get the message across
That seemingly confused bridge.

That’s what I thought. That is what I did.
Yet now, things seem different.

I try to say it.
To shout it. To whisper it.

But it all seems to be in vain.
Nobody understands what I try to say. As if people of today have become deaf to such things.

Such things as I love you. Did you know that? Well I do. Oh, and I’d also like to marry you.

I tried saying this to Denise one morning. She flipped. Well, theoretically speaking.

We were having breakfast in my small flat downtown, on the terrace, despite the rain of the night before. I remember clearly the moisture of the air. The left over raindrops on the terrace’s end. The cloudy sky.

Denise was smiling despite not being your usual morning type of person. I think it was because this morning I had made her favorite coffee. It tasted pretty much the same, but had cinammon added to it.

We ate our coffee and toast quietly. It was a Saturday morning, nearly 10 o’clock. But since this week was a holiday for most, I suppose this morning was quiet as well.

As I ate my breakfast, I observed Denise in her white cotton robe, reading through her designer glasses, the newest addition of VOUGE. Her short honey-like hair was still a little messy, but for some reason I couldn’t help but find it made her sensual, as some of it falled across her pale, thin face.

To me, she looked like an angel reading a fashion magazine.

And I loved her. That was it. I could finally picture it then. Us together. Officially.

But this was so sudden. I had to digest my suprising discovery. Before I burst it out and said it too soon.

Yet I had to say something. Anything before I could let this feeling disappear too quickly.

So I did.

“Denise.”
“Yes John?” Denise did not lift her head.
“Why don’t you stay here a little longer?” I tried not to sound eager.
“Oh? But I thought we agreed to make it a a couple weeks. The those weeks are over, John. I need to go back home. Back to Florida.”

I was silent for a couple seconds. But then:
“Why not make it a month?”
Denise snorted impatiently. This time she stopped reading her magazine, put it down, took off her glasses and looked at me, and said:
“Look John. I have a life back home. A really busy one. I just can’t stay here with you.”

“Then I come with you to Florida. I can rent a place there.”
Denise seemed suddenly startled. Then she started shaking her head.
“No, John. That wouldn’t work. It just wouldn’t. Besides, you have your life here too. No.”

I wish she could understand by what I was asking that I wanted her to become part of my life. Be my life.
Denise was still talking.
“You have to understand John. We’ve known eachother for very little time.”

“You call a year very little time?” For some reason I had to get up from my chair to say that.
Denise at that point crossed her arms. She wanted to retort. I knew it. But she didn’t. Instead, she was very straight forward. Painfully so.

“John, I realize now that you may feel passionate about our relationship, but you must know that I have no plans to get married. Nor do I imagine this relationship lasting. That is why I have kept our visits short. Don’t you see that?”

I couldn’t help but feel hurt. Anybody would, right? And when one is hurt, you’re more vulnerable to say things you know you shouldn’t say.

“But I love you.” I knew I was creating a dead end at that point. But I couldn’t help myself.
Denise scowled. “Oh damn it, John! Don’t be such a wuss!”

I suddenly realized how cold Denise really was to emotions. She was so tender, so affectionate when we were normally together. Or maybe it was me. Maybe I was dreaming it all, and I never realized it. Maybe I was the only one who was affectionate. Who loved at all.

If this is how Denise was acting, it was obvious she didn’t care for me. I comfirmed this when she got up from her chair and started for the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” I could feel a lump in my throat. I felt pitiful. But despite that I followed her.
“I’m packing my things, John.” Sure enough, she was already taking her belongings out from the closet and bathroom and putting them in her bags that were now laid on the bed. I didn’t stop her necessarily. But I tried in words.

“The least you could can do is stay till tonight. Your flight is only until 6PM. I can drive you there. Besides, where do you plan to stay?”

“I know a good hotel around here.”
“Why not here?”
“No John.”
I raised my hands in the air in sudden frustration. The feeling of hurt was starting to wear off.
“Stop “No John!”-ing me! You are not my mother, and I’m not a child, you know!”
She turned her head to look at me. Her expression was blank. Yet I knew at that moment what she meant.

She really did consider me a child.

Ack. I'm feeling iffy with my dialouge.

My name is Ruth A. Marigold

2007-10-13T23:09:00.000-03:00

Alas! It has been far too long. Forgive me, but I am not a dead writer just yet! I've been wanting to write something different, something fresh. And well.. I've realized something. I can't write one story, or focus on one at all times. I have to vary, or else I lose my creativity and inspiration all together. (Which explains why I don't want to be a full-fledged writer.) Besides, this way you guys won't be bored anymore!

This came from an idea I suggested to Chai to help her on one of her story projects she had for class. If she used it or not, I don't know. But I just wanted to try it. So this is just a start... A test. to see how it goes.
All ideas and characters © Tsuu (aka Samantha S.)

My name is Ruth A. Marigold. I was born in the winter, of the year 1832. We are now in the year of 1851, and it is spring. I am known for my grand status, by my inheritance of my former father, who invested in the now famous Marigold Manor.

The Marigold family is one of those gems of society. They have lived in riches for centuries… and we do not plan to change that fact in history. I in fact plan to raise it.

What in the world is a silly young woman doing in the hold of so much money, you must be wondering, kind sir or lady. There must be some other relatives older than her, who can take charge, you must be thinking.

My parents, pity their souls, were not blessed with a son. Instead they had a healthy baby girl. My mother died when I turned seven. My father, anxious to then marry me off, started his search for a possible husband by the time I was thirteen.

My father started to invite me to parties, give me luxurious gowns, pearls—much a girl’s dream. Many for my sweet smile and charming exterior praised me. I had many bachelors ask for my hand in marriage.

This was when I tasted the true taste of decadence. Wine was sweet, money brought many desires come true… As I soon realized what society was made of—I made a decision. Something nobody could change, not even my father.

I would become heir of the Marigold inheritance. No one else would hold it from me.

But life has its distractions. Other than money and greed, there does lie many mysteries. Many very powerful…

This is where my true story begins.

Chemistry

2007-09-15T02:35:00.000-03:00

Chemistry
It is not for me
It's just too hard to breathe
As I try
To speak the words
So mundane,
They must be

There's no equation
To explain what's
The matter, or the weight
Of such things
For what is
In the heart
Can never be seen.

Since I have no words

2007-08-30T23:01:00.000-03:00

I shall say it in pictures...
(AKA: Sorry for not posting lately!)

My Recess

2007-08-04T20:28:00.000-03:00

I miss writing poems. And yes-- I felt like changing the blog's title on a whim. So don't think you're in the wrong place or anything.

All ideas and text © Samantha S. unless otherwise stated. No stealing.

It's through these
Frustrated tears
That I speak my
Chorus
Oh chorus
The words that seem
To come
In uncertain waves
Of confusion

What was that?
The bell has rang
I am to be finished
Yet
I will never be free
To go to my recess
Until
I sort out
The many boxes
In my heart.

Just to say

2007-07-18T19:10:00.000-03:00

I haven't forgotten my promise with my story and do have a rough draft done, although it ain't complete yet. Not sure if I'm happy with it yet, either! But you can rest assured that I am progressing. Hope you guys can wiat just a bit longer.

Oh my Joker

2007-07-11T14:59:00.000-03:00

All text and ideas © Samantha S. (Tsuu) unless otherwise said so.

Oh my Joker
I must say
Your jokes are not quite funny
Neither are they gay.

They are bitter,
and sorrowful,
and speak nothing of the heart.

And yet your smile
It reaches into my heart
Ripping it apart.

Only to grow back,
To the seed
You water back to
Health.

Where is the joke in it?

The sky is so grey

2007-07-09T18:34:00.000-03:00

Just something I found in my files today-- wrote it in April, 'suppose.

Oh it's such a beautiful day,
And yet the sky is so grey,
why, oh why, oh why.. oh why?
Can such a color be so irrelevant,
on the day you find something sweet
to be reminded of...
It's such a wonderful feelings,
these sweetful thoughts of life and it's endless possibilities.
I wonder why... I feel this way.

P.S. Promise, I do, that I shall have new chapters up soon! Um, sorry-- that didn't sound right. I promise I will have more chapters coming up in the next couple weeks, hopefully starting now.

"KATHERINE" Chapter 2, Part 2

2007-06-25T21:21:00.000-03:00

I feel so good right now. Who'd have thought doodling some of the characters would suddenly inspire me to continue and finally get out of the writer's block? I'm just relieved that I did, at least for now.

This is pretty much a draft, like anything I write, specifically 'cause I just wrote this afternoon. So if you find anything awkward or funky in some parts, please say so. :)

This starts off from the part where Kat' finds herself with a whacky cut on her right thumb. From that point, I sprouted new ideas which resulted in the short search for her friend. Trust me, drama and excitement is sure to come soon! It's not much, but I hope you guys like it and comments would be much loved. <3

All characters and ideas © Samantha S.

It was a “K” all right. A very fancy one, no doubt. And at first I thought my imagination was finally getting payback on all the times I neglected it for studies. I laughed nervously despite myself. This had to be the lack of sleep from driving!

For a moment, it continued to drip and bleed, leaving drops on the grass and tiles, but then it suddenly stopped. It now had become a dry blotch of red, although the K seemed to shine through it all. Definitely a lack of sleep, I thought to myself desperately.

I looked at the rose that had caused me these bizarre results in disdain. My left hand was unscathed, I noticed. For some reason the flower decided to only prick my right thumb. Good thinking, flower.

“I can’t believe I’m believing this crap!” I muttered to myself. The swearing was the result of many years with Jane.

And as if the thought of Jane was the call of my salvation, she was all of a sudden there. I didn’t know it at that moment, but in a few seconds that exact person startled me.

“BOO!”

I whirled around, nearly screaming, only to see Jane clutching her flashlight in one hand and holding her stomach in the other, in total laughter. Her cheeks were rosy, as if the thrill of my expression was too much to bear.

At first my all I noticed was my fast heartbeat, as I just stared at Jane. Then I grabbed my friend by the shoulders and shook her slightly. “Where were you this whole time, Jan’?! I was worried!”

But she continued to laugh. When she attempted to speak, her voice was breathless, as if the laughing had taken all her strength. Catching her breathe, Jane put a hand on my shoulder and said with a sudden serious face that bewildered me: “ A ghost had possessed me last night, Kat’.”

“…What?!” I half believed her, my brow furrowed.

Jane simply stared at me blankly. Then she bursted out laughing again. “I can’t believe you took me seriously!” she said, pointing at me teasingly through a grin that would not seem to wear off.

“ I didn’t believe you!” I sputtered. But my cheeks grew pink even so.
“Look, Kat’—you just read too many spook novels! I’ve been telling you to take a break on those.” She leaned her left arm across my shoulder in a playful way.

“So where have you been this whole time, then?” I turned to my friend beside me.
“Me? Here. At the manor. Though I did stop at the van to check on you last night. You forgot to lock, by the way.” Jane smirked knowingly.
“But… when I woke up this morning, it was locked.”
“Then you must have locked it after I left again, Kat’.”
I stared at the ceramic tile for a moment, its pattern suddenly very busy, muttering to myself: “I didn’t lock it. I know I didn’t.”
“Maybe it was someone else.” Jane suddenly spoke.
“Who?” I looked at her increadiously.

Jane looked at me with an odd expression, but then suddenly she smiled and said: “Nobody, silly. You locked it, ‘probably just had been half-sleeping when you did.”

I still didn’t feel like dropping it. But there was nothing else I could do. “Let’s get out of here, Jan’. I don’t like this place.”

“Aaaw. Why not? Already chickening out, eh? Sure, most of the doors are locked, but some places have awesome views. “

“I’m not chickening out, Jan’. I just don’t like it.”
“Why?” She inquired.

I showed her my right thumb. “Because who can when the place grows flowers that do this to your fingers!”

My friend took hold of my thumb for a better, close up inspecion. “Ooh. That’s some fancy cut,” she smirked, then her eyes widened in fascination – “ Cool! It has a “K” on it! …How’d you do that?”
“I didn’t, obviously! That’s what creeps me out.”
“Sure.”
“I’m serious!”
“Fine. But I still ‘am going to show you the place, of what I could find or get into, anyway. Then we’ll go. Deal?”

Jane held out her right hand in a attempt for a hand shake. I drew mine despite the sillyness of it. “Fine.” I said. “As long as we stay together from here on out.”

She looked at me as if I was crazy. “Of course, silly! We’re like a pencil and the eraser, inseperable. You’re the pencil, who makes things interesting with your imagination, and I’m the eraser who takes out the bad stuff.”
I laughed at her description. “You got that right.”

“OK. Lead the way, Jan’.”
“Right this way, madam.”

Let's get started.

2007-06-20T18:40:00.000-03:00

I've been overflowling with nothing but poems... Sorry about that. Now that my major tests are pretty much done, I can focus on my stories. I just have to brainstorm a little. But I'll get there, I promise. Soon enough, I'll have something posted here, most likely in relation to the Katherine story. Or so I hope!

Wish me luck.

Take Care

2007-06-18T04:43:00.000-03:00

I was waiting for my dad outside of school, while I tried to remember the words of "Michelle" from the Beatles. Between it, I was staring at the tiny yet-to-bloom flower that I picked up. Then I just started coming up with different words, which resulted in the first stanza you see. After that, I wrote the rest at home, now, while, oddly enough, 'was listening to the crazy-like "Rock n' Roll Music" song sung most likely from John Lennon. Chai asked me to do a poem with stronger feelings. I don't know if this is really what she was asking for, but it's my first attempt of something less jolly (although random).

Your soul…
It’s the flowers.
From the deepest pond,
Of which the fish
Are afraid
To meet the eyes
For fear
Of being judged.

Your look
Is of the dandylion who was blown away
What’s this? I’m lost. I can’t find it.
What’s that, sir?
My place in the garden.
It’s gone.
The weeds have taken over.

Your hands
They fidget
Uncertain like the spider,
Stuck in his web of…
White lies.

Yours truly,
Is the most sincere
Pair of unmatched socks

Your queer stripes,
of uncany pride,
They hurt your inner ego,
As laughter is to be heard
Across the hall.

Your lips hesitate
To speak
The words
You buried in the earth long ago

Should you cross?
It’s just a bridge of bandages
Overused

Take care
Of where you tred
Take hold of the handle

Make sure
You hold on tight.

For the grip of the world is upon you.

Looking back at this, it sounds really cheesy. -__-

:D

2007-06-17T01:30:00.000-03:00

I was listening to one of those upbeat songs and I kind of felt like writing something, anything, so this is what I got. (I am in desperate need of inspiration!)

The tune
It's your voice
Of you heart
It's so queer,
With that hidden
Smile.

Forget the words
They mean nothing.
It's the notes
The high and low
That makes these
Days so fine.

I was...

2007-05-28T20:04:00.000-03:00

...looking through some of my old notebooks, most likely from last year, and I found a poem I wrote. It's kind of cheesy, but it rhymes cutely, lol.

"False Hope"
Those words that you spoke...
They were like honey,
Honey in my mouth;
Warm and sweet.

I swallowed them with ease...
As it went down my throat,
It covered my heart,
Protecting me...

Did I realize it too late?
Those words...
I had made a mistake.

In the end,
You and your words...
They were nothing but fake.

But then turning some more pages, I came across this. Some random phrase I made up, I guess. These are the kind of things that normally tend to inspire me to make stories. They'r meaningless, in the sense that I just was mumbling words in my head without any specific goal other than to entertain, but yet, it's all so very curious.

"What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here... Those tears, they are not to be seen... Today is not your day... The world is not ready for you."

Hope you guys liked it. D:]

In my literature class, I couldn't help myself...

2007-05-25T20:04:00.000-03:00

I was bored, and in result, 'wasn't paying attention much. So I just started rambling in my agenda.

In this world we live in
A fairytale,
It seems
In the highest moments,
Where heaven meets

A tingle,
A shiver,
A cry of something
Imaginable,
Like music,
In a box
It stays there,
Unheard,
Unspoken,
Only to be discovered
At dusk,
In the chest of our dreams.

Don't expect this to make any sense.

Quarter Past Wonderful

2007-05-19T04:46:00.000-03:00

Quarter Past WONDERful

As I sit on my windowsill
I think of the day,
You turned off the alarm
Unaware of the time
The sun against your skin
The sky,
Bluer
Bluer then we knew

We were a young delight,
Asking ourselves of what have we done anyway?
The guitar chimed its way into our hearts,
As we run across the green lawn,
Telling me, oh you,
How the sky was so blue.

You see that?
It’s a cloud,
A cloud, light bright,
Puffy, cotton candy thing.
It smiled at us, so we thought, as we ran across,
Across the smiles,
Across the laughter
Of the witty comments…
The grass tickled our feet.

And we knew,
Some day,
It would come to pass,
Yet we were oblivious
It was,
For all we knew
Of the blue
Quarter Past wonderful.

---

I was inspired by a bit of a song called "Quarter Past Wonderful", by Oren Lavie that I was listening to. Actually, I have yet to hear the whole song, for all I have heard is a 30 second preview on iTunes, but nonetheless, it was enough to bring me a mood that you may detect in the poem. I actually really liked how it came out. Bigger than usual. :D

Btw, I want to say that I am still keeping my word. I still cannot post any stories until sometime in June, but I may just post some poetry if I find myself inspired like today. Though I doubt it, since school starts on Monday again. :(

I can't help but think the first stanza/paragraph turned out the best and the rest is so-so..

Okay, I lied.

2007-05-19T04:25:00.000-03:00

In this box
There is something
mundane,
simple,
normal,
regular -- to your eyes.
But to the girl with eyes of milkyway
It is something of dreams,
of sugar and spice,
but sadly not
everything nice.
But yes,
a dream of sorts.
A dream of dreamer,
it sparkles shyly, giggling and holding daisies at your doorstep.
"Would you like my box of chocalates, sir?"
"How much are they?"
"I'm afraid it will cost something."

SORRY AGAIN.... :(

2007-05-15T16:42:00.000-03:00

Only during June I can actually start posting. Can't say when. But before that I have to work on school.

Trying to find it. (the words)

2007-04-29T21:55:00.000-03:00

Thoughts, images, sounds
Inspiration is what surges.
Yet
Today
Yet
Lately
It doesn’t
Seem to be
Destiny’s
Liking.

---

Life gives you its sweets,
Yes, its dark chocolate is the most
Fascinating.
My teeth are white,
My shoulders are heavy from deliveries,
And I am waiting for my box of chocolates...

---

Ignorance is bliss, my friend! -- the "fool" says.
Or so what people call him,
And yet-- yes, he is more than a fool.
A clever fool--where for once his word is true.

--

p.s. I want to apologize for the lack of posts. All I can say is that I hope to continue my stories soon.

Mystery of music

2007-04-05T18:28:00.000-03:00

When I am lost at what to say,
I listen to music--
searching for the words
the meaning behind them,
behind the endless sound waves
that go through my sun colored headphones.

With a suprised smile
I find myself humming
to the song that is someone else's
story
as if it were mine.

-- Can't say this is a poem...eh.

childish quarrel.

2007-03-31T01:28:00.000-03:00

Just something to amuse myself, once again featuring these two tykes, or so I like to call them... (Luken is the dreamer, btw.)

Ideas & characters © Samantha S. (Tsuu)

“What in the world are you doing?”
Two boys resided by the beach shore down south of Edner Shore.
“Can’t you see? I’m making a sandcastle, doofus.”
There was a moment of silence…
“What did you call me, Luken?”
Luken looked up from his sandcastle still-in-progress to his friend, attempting to look innocent.
“A doofus.”
“You’re going to regret that, dude.”
“I haven’t yet.” The boy Luken shrugged with a smirk, turning back to his castle. That was when his friend abruptly snatched the quite large sea shell that had been placed on the castle’s main entrance and replaced with a nice big rock, deforming the hole slightly.
Luken’s face was crest-fallen, much to his friend’s satisfaction.
“HEY! It took ages to find that thing! Give it back!” Luken made his best pouting face-- his trademark.
His friend smirked like a fox, feeling like king of the situation. “Sorry, I can’t do that,” and threw it in the ocean.
Luken ogled his friend like he had just done the un-thinkable. Several seconds pasted until he said: “That was so wrong.”
“I know. But you’ve learned your lesson, right?”
“What lesson?”
“About calling me what I’m not.”
Luken looked puzzled. “But you are a doofus.”
“You want your precious castle to suffer some more damage?”
Something clicked in Luken’s brain as he realized a possibility. He glared at his friend.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh yes I would.”
“Well, don’t even try you---“
But it was too late, as Luken’s castle met the fate that he was dreading--- it was crushed under his friend’s feet.
“NO! YOU IDIOT!”
“HEY!”

2007-03-29T20:44:00.000-03:00

“ Who is this fair blossom that has planted herself into my cherished garden? ”

It never seems to be satisfying enough. When you finish writing something, you just made an attempt to take out ideas from your mind... Unfortunately, after being done, even though that feeling of accomplishment may be there, it is very hard for it to stay. And once that feeling is gone, you’re dying to bring it back, either by writing something completely different, or just plain better.

One of my problems is that when I write something, once I’m done, that is, even if I leave it there to sit without looking back on it for a few days, once I do re-read it… those little mistakes and funky written sentences jump at you like bright yellow flying in your eyes. It’s irritating and makes me only want to re-write it all over again. But if I do that, then I’d be re-writing things over and over and over again, non-stop. I would never continue and I’d never progress in the story.

But then again, if I don’t re-write what I could improve, then I’ll always look back on it with a annoyed feeling...

I’m sure it’s a regular dilemma for any person who does any piece of work, may it be writing, singing, drawing—it never manages to be perfect. But nonetheless, there’s got to be some logical solution to approaching it. (?:/)

Is it...

2007-03-18T22:16:00.000-03:00

I was looking to shake off some frustration and stress... Dunno what I really mean in this, though.

....Ack, I just realized I messed up the date.

Katherine // Part 2 ( aka Chapter. 2?)

2007-03-17T03:22:00.000-03:00

It's 11 PM, but I don't care because I was finally able to do something productive and artistic other than HOMEWORK, GAH.

Remember the story about the 2 girls, Kat' n' Jan'? If you remember that-- to the part where Katherine is waiting in the car for her friend, then great. If not, re-read it here. Once you've done that, be aware that what I have written now is a re-written part after she wakes up. I'm not a 100% happy with it, since it's still a draft, and the beginning of this sounds a bit rushed, but in any case it's an improvement in comparison to before. So I hope you'll like it better. *shrugs*

All characters and ideas © Samantha S. (Tsuu). No stealing, please.

“Katherine” someone whispered to me. I opened my eyes; frustrated to find myself at the exact place I did not want to be. It took me a moment to realize I was alone. I pulled back my wavy brown locks, hoping the grogginess would go away. As I took a deep breath, my eyesight started to clear and I could finally see the wood clearing, as the sun that probably woke me up peeked shyly through the innumerous trees. As I already knew Jane was not beside me, I rolled down my window to look outside, reluctant to simply step out. I scanned the ground, the trees, around the manor that was visible--- she was nowhere to be seen. My heart dropped in disappointment. Typical of Jane. I let Jan’ wander off to explore, and now I have to find her. As if I was her mother! I thought to myself irritably, as I unwillingly took hold of the door’s handle and stepped out, taking the key and locking it afterwards, slipping it gingerly into my back jeans pocket.

I felt a momentarily chill as a soft but cool breeze passed by me. Who would have thought it could still be so chilly in the early spring. I zipped my jacket closed and with a tired face and headed towards the only building present.

As I walked toward every child’s favorite spooky story, I started to backtrack my memory and remembered that I had heard someone whisper my full name right before I woke up. I shrugged it off, for it was obvious, now, that I had dreamt it. After all, nobody had been in the car with me—and I had locked the car. Unless the boogieman is out to get me, I joked to myself.

I smirked to myself despite my restlessness the night before. Somehow, things seemed easier to deal with in the daylight. The sun and the clear sky was a reassurance to me. Even the manor appeared less daunting in the day, I noticed, as I stopped in front of what seemed to be a tall oak door. Its center displayed a pretty tainted glass window, featuring many different flowers. Beside the main door were the walls of stone, almost completely covered by moss and vines. Scattered across them were, strangely enough, lilies.

I looked behind my back at the van. It looked inviting. I sighed. There was no way out of it.

I opened the door of the manor, and as if on cue, the door’s rusty hinges creaked as I opened it wider. I felt like I was in a novel, where the heroine was about to discover her true identity.

But instead of discovering my identity, I found myself stepping inside and discovering something that by no means looked like a regular old manor. For all I knew, at first I felt like I had just stepped outside again. I was expecting grass beneath my feet, but instead my sneakers met the cold tile floor. I simply stood in mid stance, staring at the tremendous amount of plants, small trees and flowers scattered across a very, very spacious, “living room”. Even the ceiling had a large sunroof to lighten the room.

The last owner must have been some nature fan, I concluded with an open mouth.

I was dazzled to say the least, as I let go of the door and took a few steps forward toward this exquisite garden, forgetting the sound of the slight bang of the door closing. Walking closer to the center of the room, I spotted a charming wooden bench that sat behind a small concrete fountain that even now, seemed to be working, as the water sparkled in the sun’s reflection.

Something came over me, as I became excited and quickened my pace to the bench, momentarily forgetting completely what my main goal was, or any logic of what I was seeing. I sat down, like a child receiving her first toy, and smiled contently as I took a better look at my surroundings.

The room itself was enormous, the floor, a mix of grass and ceramic title. Bushes of many kinds made almost a hedge behind from where I sat. And beyond that were large oak doors, all going in different directions, all with tainted glass. Flowers, any flower you could possibly think of, were present. It was a rainbow of color, never ending, always beautiful. I looked up to see the glass sunroof. The sun was high in the sky, and sky itself, clear blue, with not one cloud to be seen.

Then I noticed something more, as I finally took a better look at the fountain before me. It had three bowls. On the very top the water trickled gently down…

But something was erect in between the water that flowed from the top. A white rose. My favorite flower... I stood up to take a better look, almost not believing my own eyes. I touched the petals delicately, and sure enough they were soft as any rose. Its stem stood sturdy between the constant flowing water. The flower had a strong, sweet smell to it.

And yet again, something came over me—I acted before I thought straight about what I was about to do, and plucked the flower out of its place. Knowing roses, they have thorns, and sure enough, my thumb was bleeding. I cursed under my breath and was about to suck on it until I saw that this cut was far too diferent.

The cut that at first was just a mere line, was now becoming something else. The cut opened more, making a journey around my thumb, tracing something. I was shocked as I realized that my thumb did not emit any pain, it merely tingled profusely. I watched the cut finally finish its course and stop bleeding, my thumb now numb, and finally saw its goal. It had traced a letter, in a elegant, old-fashioned script. The letter K.

"K" for Katherine.

Btw, I'd LOVE to have some pointers on how I can make this seem interesting and catch the reader with such a piece with no dialogue. I find it hard to write nicely without dialogue... Open to criticism. <3

The joker.

2007-03-04T03:42:00.000-03:00

“What to do, what to see?
In a word, it’s three.
If you solve my riddle,
You shall be heard your plea.”

Such were the words of the joker. Meaningless and yet unfathomable behind his cheshire smile. Hands swift, caught was the apple that fell from my hands, into the endless dance of spheres it went. Brave and confident, he seemed to be, as he balanced on the trapize of the world, almost as if believing he could overcome it. Yet behind the painted face and diomond filled smile, his eyes, ever so dark, said otherwise.

The joker was a gamble. A gamble of wits, a gamble of hearts. A gamble of kings, queens, knights—a gamble of life.

More gibberish.

It's the COLOR.

2007-03-04T02:47:00.000-03:00

Color is the music, music is the color.
Stars are its melody, twinkling each note like a chime.
Always in tune, always in line.
They are your eyes as they are mine.

A churning mix of paint,
never changing,
always turning,
as our orbit takes its daily course.
This colorful piece of bitter chocolate we call Earth.

Random stuff.

Me and the Pencil.

2007-02-25T01:37:00.000-03:00

Me and the pencil.

I love the pencil. He’s my best friend when things get hard and I am at lost at what is supposed to be interesting in class. He’s an “almost” when I need him, an outlet of creativity, and sometimes even boredom. Creative boredom.

But lately Mr. Pencil is giving me a cold shoulder as my mind of fantasies of different worlds and characters… go hither. Why must he be so distant? It frustrates me if this dilemma become a bigger one.

Or is it my problem? Maybe what Mr. Pencil was saying to me months back was true. My lack of dedication is lacking, which is resulting in the lack of art. (LOL).

And I imagine he must be laughing at me in my self-frustration, as he watches me be consoled by the ever-kind Mr. Word. He has been far kinder and generous with me lately.

…

Why must I be so…

silly?

LOL. Just something I brewed up right now. I am bored and decided to entertain myself by explaining my dilemma in some funny words. Hope it amuses you like it does me. :J

Boyish dreams.

2007-02-17T14:20:00.000-03:00

(I forgot to say this last time.) All ideas and characters © Tsuu (Syama, ME, haha)

"Wouldn't it be nice."

The young boy who spoke such abrupt words was sitting on the edge of the wooden canoe that rested at the dry shore, with his best bud', observing the view of the beach and the sun taking its journey down the deep debts of the ocean.

His best bud' was puzzled.

"What would be nice?"
The boy just smirked, and said: "Nothing."
Pouting was no doubt to be counted for, for his bud' was not satisfied. His friend nudged his shoulder.
"Come on. You can tell me."
"Promise not to laugh?"
"I promise!"
"I think it'd be awesome if we could just fly away from Edner Shore."

There was a small moment of silence between the two, almost as if what had just been said had been taken very seriously. But the boy quickly realized after this that his best bud' was far from taking him serious, as his friend burst out laughing without warning.

The boy with his dreamy thoughts was least to say embarrassed, as he felt his cheeks grow warm. He turned to his bud', who had actually fell into the boat now, holding his stomach tight and laughing like there was no tomorrow.

"Hey, I told you not to laugh!"
"B-but it's so funny!"
"Fine, I won't tell you stuff anymore!" And with that, the boy turned his back, arms folded and pouting.

His best bud' stopped laughing at this, got up from the floor and sat once again beside his friend, spreading an arm around his bud's shoulder.

"Aw, come on. Don't be like that. I get what you mean."
The pouting boy almost looked doubtful, but hopeful at the same time.
"Really?"
There was a moment of thought.
"Um. Well, no, actually."

The boy could only stare at his friend's response in incredulity at this, but then decided to look back at the ocean. It was a better sight.

"Idiot."
"Aw, come on! I was joking! I believe in you, man. Sort of."
The boy just sighed, disappointed.
"Okay."

There was once again, a moment of silence between the two. And as if on cue, his best bud' started laughing again. The boy was irritated.

"What is it now?"
His best bud' just grinned and wiped his teared filled eyes.

"You gotta admit, though. It was pretty funny."
"Oh, just shut up," embarrassed once again.

-- Another scene that popped in my head. I wasn't planning to make this so big. It was actually supposed to be quite small. But alas, I got carried away. Something simple and hopefully likable. :) P.s. I find it waay annoying that if you use either blockquotes or not, you can't use that whole cool way of dividing paragraphs, the old fashioned way. So sorry if it don't look nice and all.

Sorry.

2007-02-16T22:17:00.000-03:00

“Sorry.”

The room was dim and cold. Cold because of the rain, dim because of the curtains obscuring the light. Cold because I was hurting inside. The young man who stood in front of me, who I had learned to know so well, looked at me as if such a word was bitter in his mouth. I fiddled with my chain bracelet nervously--the one he had reluctantly gave me--just trying to not look straight.

“Sorry?”

I didn’t have to look at him to know. He was outraged, though his voice was a mere whisper.

I shouldn’t have broken the statue of the porcelain princess. I shouldn’t have hidden Janis’ favorite clothes. Janis’ favorite earrings. The things that Daniel gave to her. What he gave to his fiancé.

The fiancé that I wanted to be.

My dreams were only fantasies, a child’s mere wishful thinking. But I could see that that would soon be over as Daniel spoke what I thought would be his last words to me.

“Pack your bags, Ruth.”

I struggled to not break my bracelet right there. This was going to be hard.

But strangely enough, as he said those bitter words, things indirectly became clearer. As I would soon realize later… that the room suddenly became brighter.

-- A random scene that popped in my head. I've finally realized how to get out of writer's block. Sort of. <:) Sorry about the lack of words lately and thanks for waiting nonetheless.

Diamond shoes

2007-01-26T20:33:00.000-03:00

I take my diamond shoes.
In hope of a new dream.
A new dream--
As they sparkle in the sun.
Woe is me--
this glamorous life.
In the end--
life is what you make it.
Let's make it a dream.

Writer's Block

2007-01-18T19:22:00.000-03:00

I tried doing the same thing I suggested Chai to do-- to write a scene that I had a vague idea on how it would be. I tried doing so, but the result did not make me feel any better. Basically I tried writing just a rough draft. The "scene" started out slightly different than what I had in mind--I got new ideas while I wrote-- but other than that, I didn't get anything out of it. I can imagine the scene in my head, sort of write, but nothing that would be wordy satisfactory. What do you do when you can't seem to find how to describe a scene? Just try again in a different approach?

Any suggestions?

Character sheet: Johnathan Banks

2007-01-10T22:19:00.000-03:00

This is a character from a story I am co-writing with a close friend of mine. This little character here is one of the characters I created, Johnathan Banks, college/university student in London-- studying Literature. (Wow, he don't look british at all, right?)

Anyway, don't bother trying to read the huge amount of text in there. It's all in Portuguese, yo. And there's no way I'm going to translate all that now or anytime soon. It's basically just specifying his age, which is 22, other details, like nationality, and his likes and dislikes. Other things along the page is a detailed explanation of his personality and etcetra, plus his appearance as far as clothing goes in the first chapter. He's a effeminate dude, I am aware of that. But I like those kind of character-os. :)

On a side note, I hope to continue Kat' + Jan's story some time next week, hopefully. If I find the time and patience and motivation, 'course.

Hope you guys like.

1st Try at Vector-o

2007-01-10T16:44:00.000-03:00

I recently came upon one of the many admirable vector artworks on the internet one day-- I was inspired to make one too-- for the first time. It's actually quite fun, and loads more loose and free for creativity in comparison to actual sketching and drawings. Vectoring is ze bomb. <3

You can try using it as a wallpaper if you like. I didn't make the size desktop/wallpaper worthy, but nonetheless, I think it's usable as a wallpaper. Hope ya enjoy it. :)

Little did I know.

2007-01-03T16:41:00.000-03:00

There once was a girl who sung in the dead of night. She seemed to look angelic from afar, her silky hair shining against the glow of the night sky. Little did I know.

Some called her a daughter of a witch, for she only came to the village when the moon was its fullest. But how could such a thing, with such peaceful eyes, be of a witch? Little did I know.

She later cast a spell on me. A wonderful spell called "love". I was lost in what to do, so I approached the local priest. He looked me in the eye as if to say: What do you speak?

Little did I know-- she would soon be a mother, and later my wife.

I just happened to be holding a pen and had a notebook in front of me. I was bored, looking to kill time, so I just wrote whatever came to my mind. Just a bunch of jumbly blabber that don't make much sense, neither is it very poetic. I'm posting it here anyway.

Jack + Jason (Ghost Story) end of chapter 1?

2007-01-01T00:43:00.000-03:00

I stared at the man in front of me, my mouth slightly open. Jack continued to show his teeth to me in his grin, which was miraculously white—as he noticed my slight frustration. He could see it in my eyes, as I started hard at him, thinking.

I took a glance at the sword in my already sweaty hands, adjusting my fingers to hold firmly, closing my eyes, as I consoled myself with my thoughts and slowly came to a conclusion. A drop of perspiration finally fell down my forehead.

“Jason?” I could hear Jack take another step forward. “Jason, you know that won’t work.” He whispered this in my ear, as he placed his hands on my shoulders. His grip tightened as he said: “It’s no use.”

I opened my eyes abruptly. For a second, Jack was almost embracing me. That’s when I reacted. Gritting my teeth, I took a risk and gave a swing with my sword with all the strength I could muster—yelling what seemed to be a war cry. But Jack realized my actions too early for he was already 15 meters away from me.

“Damn it.” I sweared, as I let my shoulders slouch, breathing hard once again. I forced my neck to look up at Jack. He looked bored, as he rested his back on the stone with crossed legs and his arms laid back behind his head. That little—

“I already told you, Jason.”
I advanced toward him, almost dragging my legs with me.
“What you are doing is useless.”
I was walking.
“So, let’s just be civilized and act like…
I was running.
“Intelligent, grown men.”

My sword seemed heavier than ever, but I lifted it to attack once again. I was in front of Jack, ready to strike. He stared at me with one brow lifted in question. “Don’t tell me you’re going to do something stupid again,” he said.

I yelled in frustration as I aimed my sword to his stomach. It slid through almost too easily. I breathed hard. Jack merely twitched his left eye. He looked irritated. Good for him.

“You know Jason, I understand you’re trying. But sometimes…” Jack slowly slid the sword out of its place. You could tell by his gritted teeth that part was more tedious. “Sometimes… trying just leads to doing something…” He pressed his lips and grimaced as he gripped my sword and gave it one last strong tug.

"Stupid."

Because I was still holding my sword, I was also thrown away with Jack’s strength of the pull. My body met the floor, and so did my sword meet my right arm. I felt a shot of sharp, heavy pain as I yelled in slight agony, curling in my spot.

I heard Jack’s boots walk across the floor. His figure shadowed me. He kneeled down to his knees and looked down at me condescendingly. I took a glance at his stomach. It was now a gaping, gruesomely made hole. I shivered at the sight. But I also could have shivered because of the fact that I was completely drenched with sweat. I couldn’t be sure.

“Oh.” Jack looked at himself, only to look at me once again. He smiled despite his real annoyance. “You like my holy body, eh?” Jack chuckled to himself as he lifted himself up from the floor. “Well Jason, I’ll just have to return your honest favor.”

Jack was cruel. He took hold of the collar of my shirt, lifting myself from the floor, letting my sword slide achingly against my injured arm as it made its way to the floor. I gritted my teeth, refusing to moan in front of my enemy. I strained to look at Jack in the face as he leveled my face with his.

“You know, Jason… you haven’t changed at all.” Jack laughed. “Hell, you’re still being as idiotic as ever.” The man stopped smiling and looked serious. “So, what is your last word? Maybe… sorry?” He looked into my eyes. I stayed the same, teeth gritted in defiance.

“No? Fine.”

I closed my eyes, expecting the worst. I could feel his grip loosen on my collar. He then punched me. His fist seemed to have a harder knuckle than most. Before I knew it, he had already let go of me. I met the floor once again. My ears were ringing and I started to feel a pain sharp pain in my forehead. I took hold of my head, my right arm hurting even more. I tasted blood in my mouth. I curled in pain.

I heard another body fall to the floor. I struggled my eyes to lift my head and look in front of me. Jack was sitting against one of the arches, looking tired. If that was even possible. Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me. In the end, it didn’t matter. I laid my head back on the floor, utterly exhausted. I could have just slept right there.

My eyes started to grow heavy. It was too much. I had to rest. There was no way I could get up otherwise. But I was startled by Jack’s faint voice.
“I would have killed you if I didn’t need you, you know. So don’t get the wrong idea.”
Need me?
“I need to get somewhere, and I need you to be my escort.”
Escort?
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? I would have to see this devil tomorrow too?
But my exhaustion got the better of me. I was too tired to retort or protest. I closed my eyes, trying my best to ignore the pain.

“Sorry it has to be this way, Jason.”
Alas, I was already asleep—I couldn’t hear Jack anymore. I couldn’t hear him as he got up and walked deeper into the old stone manor. All I could hear was the soft ringing in my ears while I slept. And dreamt. I dreamt of my hometown. My friends. It was good that I did, for it would be quite a while till I would last see them.

Happy New Year peeps! As you can see this is continuing the story about Jack & Jason. Not sure if I totally like it.. but oh well. Hope you guys do!

What more can I say?

2006-12-30T15:22:00.000-03:00

What more can I say?
Today is today,
Tomorrow is tomorrow.
Everybody is an actor,
And we are in but a play.

Ain't that funny.

2006-12-25T23:09:00.000-03:00

So far I have used Penny Paint for writing usage, but my real goal was to not only use it for writing, but for my drawings as well. I just never got to doing it. But alas, yesterday I decided to stop being lazy and just draw something. After a lot of mental struggling I ended up with this-- that you see now. <3 And please forgive the mistakes as far as proportions go. This was drawn on a Wacom Graphire 3 tablet in Adobe Photoshop 8.0. (Why am I even going technical? ...Because I sound smart this way, lol.)

Art and character © Samantha S. // Tsuu (MYSELF)

Continuation of what left off...

2006-12-09T00:34:00.000-03:00

“Hey Kat! I got a great idea!”

No answer.

“Uh, Kat, are you there? Back to earth, oh human being…”

I saw a hand waving by my face. It gave off a nice breeze. I smiled sleepily, until I realized that Jane was actually talking to me. I blinked twice.

“Huh, sorry?”

Jane frowned at me, almost disapproving.

“What am I going to do with you and your daydreaming? I can’t leave you alone for one second without you going into another dimension!”

I laughed shyly and smirked at her. “Sorry Jane, but what am I going to do with you? You are the one who always comes up with crazy ideas.”

“Aha! So you were listening after all.”
“Vaguely.” I grabbed my glass of milk and took a sip.

“So, you want to hear it?”
“Shoot.”
----
What was that infernal noise? A long, deep, high-pitched noise. It sounded familiar. What was it? Is that…the horn?!

I woke up with a jolt, almost swearing as I realized my akward position. My body was sprawled across the two front car seats, where my foot miraciously managed to find its way to the steering wheel.

Still drowsy, I tried to see where I was, squinting my eyes as I adjusted my sitting position. Trees…lots of grass, a very blinding sun, and…

The manor. It then hit me. Jane was not back yet. I looked at the clock. 8:30 AM. I then searched through the van, looking in the back seats. Nothing. The car key was still in its place. The car had been running its engine the whole time…

What could have possibly made Jane not come back? For a moment, my imagination went wild. It gave me the chills to even think that anything bad had happened to her.

I took a deep breath. “No, Kate. Nothing happened. Jane is probably perfectly fine. It’s just a matter of calling her.” I whispered to myself.

Grabbing my cellphone out of my sweater’s hand pocket, I dialed her number. I waited… and it rang! My heart started to race with anticipation. I heard a beep. That meant someone answered!

“Jan’?! Is that you? You okay?”

No answer.

“Jan’..?”

It then beeped again, only to beep several times. She… hang up?!

I stared at my cellphone… It read: “18:56:00 – End call?” I bit my lip as my thumb lingered on the button to hang up.

I pressed my cellphone to my ear one more time. Maybe I was mistaken. Maybe she didn’t hang up.

I listened, and my heart skipped a beat. I could hear someone’s heavy breathing on the other line.

Startled, I quickly pressed the hang up button. My cellphone was slippery in my hand. Maybe it was from the sun? I tried denying it, but it was useless.

I was afraid.

I ain't exactly happy with this, but I can't think of any way to really "fix it". Sorry if it sounds so silly and predictable. Like it's really obvious that at the end you've gotta go *gasp!*. As goofy as it may seem, though, while I was writing this, I couldn't help but feel nervous and look around me. It was at night. XD

cackles of amusement

2006-12-07T00:16:00.000-03:00

I started this yesterday, but only managed to finish today. Another idea incomplete.

My boots slid across the stone floor. 'Missed him. I gritted my teeth in frustration as I swore. Where the hell did that damn thing go? I strained my neck to look around me.

Other than my battered, heavy breathing and the slight breeze that passed through the empty, stone-like room, it was terribly silent. Too silent.

But then it came. A stronger breeze passed through, no, a gust of wind went across the arched entrances, into the room. He was coming back...

I clenched my sword in defense, though I knew it would do me no good. "Come out!" I said under my breath.

I could hear a cackle of amusement in my mind. Did he think me a toy? Something cold touched my shoulders, but nobody was behind me. I broke out into a sweat despite myself. He laughed some more in my ear.

"Cut it out already and face me, you creep!"

It was relief to not feel his cold touch anymore, but I would have preferred it if I knew what I would be seeing next would be much worse.

There he was, the one who had escaped the camp long ago. The famous...

"J-jack? Is that you? Wha-what are you doing here?"

Yes, it was Jack. It could only be Jack, with that grin only he could do. That crazy, malicious grin. He bowed, draping his nearly non-existent cape, his tangled hair falling in a mess over his smokey-blue eyes. The man then took a step forward, almost inches away from my face.

"Did you miss me, Jason? Well, I'm back to haunt you, I'm afraid."

Great. Just dandy. And here I thought I was dealing with a regular poltergeist.

A word

2006-12-06T23:30:00.000-03:00

This one came to my mind out of nowhere. I don't know why. I was walking across the living room and... yeah. Very random indeed.

It's a word,
It's a word,
A word I can't describe.

Is it sweet,
is it sour,
Is it something divine?

I'm starting to really like making these, whatever they are. They can be simple, direct, or mean nothing. It's fun playing with words.

Pitter patter

2006-12-04T23:54:00.000-03:00

Mind you, this "poem" or whatever you want to call it, has nothing to do with me. Let's just say when I wrote this, I was in someone else's mind. I also was listening to one song that, well, its mood was kind of ...angsty.

Pitter patter,
pitter patter,
do you hear it as it shatters?

My heart,
It moans and whines,
as I walk a ever fine line,
speaking to you in riddles,
only you can find.

I swear,
I do not care for you.
I feel more blue,
believe me,
when I am around you.

For all you give me is agony.

Life?

2006-11-30T22:40:00.000-03:00

A spur of the moment kind of poem.

What is a word that summerizes life?
Life is unique to each,
It surprises, but also repeats itself.
Like a knitted pattern on your sometimes favorite rug,
Sometimes you must face it.
Face the facts.
Face the music,
The constant ever changing flow.
Life is conspicuous.

Possible story

2006-11-26T00:44:00.000-03:00

I didn’t want to be there.
I looked at Jane beside me. She had her reddish hair in a ponytail, sporting her favorite cap as usual.
“Are you sure we can stop here, Jan’? What if it isn’t safe?”
“Don’t worry, Kat, it’s perfectly fine. We’ll just sleep here for tonight,” said my friend at the steering wheel, as she pulled the gear to stop the van and unlocked her seatbelt. Jane paused, as she was about to open the door, then turned her head and said: “Why don’t we take a look around before we hit the hay?” I could not believe she said this while grinning!
I looked at her incredulously. “Are you serious? Nu’uh! I’m not getting out of this car, Jan’!”
She was already out of the car, flashlight in hand, the door still ajar.
“Oh c’mon! It’ll be fun! Didn’t we come out here for some adventure? This old abandoned manor is a great place to start.” Jane was silent for a moment. I hated it when she did that.
“What is it, Jan’?”
The woman laughed, the laugh only Jane could laugh. Loud and heartfelt...
“You hear those crickets, Kat?” Jane grinned in delight and looked up. She made a dramatic stance as she lifted up her arm to point up to the sky, her mouth open, and eyes wide. “And do you see those stars?! Man, it’s like space out here!” She giggled one last time, and then said:
“Look, if you really don’t want to come, then fine, but it it’d be so much fun.” She smiled at me hopefully.
I looked behind Jane. All I could see was grass, trees, and darkness. Then I looked at the window beside me. A tall, intimidating building of cold stone stared at me blankly as the pine trees swayed in the wind.
“No… no, I don’t want to go.” I stared at the glass as I said this. I didn’t want to see my friend’s disappointed face.
In the back of my mind, I could see Jane smile sadly.
“OK then. That’s fine with me… but make sure to lock, okay? And if anything happens, you can call me on my cell phone. I’ll be back soon.” I heard the click of the keys put into its place, and the door shut. Seconds later, I saw Jane waving at me as she headed towards the stone manor.
I counted the seconds on the clock. 7:30, 7:35, 7:39, 7:40. When the clock said 7:56 PM, I realized she really did go. Just like Jane would. I started to feel the empty space of the car seat beside me. I looked at the window one more time. My breath fogged up the glass… and I felt it. Loneliness. I wished I had gone with Jane.
I frowned. But there’s no way I’m going to go out there now. Even if I do have another flashlight... I leaned back in my seat and grabbed my newest book I bought that week, and turned to page 145. I will read until Jan’ gets back.

Little did I know, it would be quite a while till Jane came back...

This is an idea that came to me after listening to a song. I don't remember which song it was... But this is just a draft. As you can see, I am not into even describing the narrorator, Kat'. I guess you are free to imagine her as you like, but my image of her is a brunette, with brown eyes, shoulder length hair, and a baby face.

And I know. Two girls in the middle of nowhere is really stupid. But it's just the beginning. XD

Let it begin.

2006-11-19T12:53:00.000-03:00

This new version of blogger is quite nifty, to say the least. I like it, and therefore want to make a new blog using it. So, I decided to use this as a place to record my writing and drawings. Thus, "Penny Paint," which no doubt is quite the silly name, but nonetheless, I like it. It's fun and simple. Not like my other blog, Never Ending Prologue.

I'd really like to start, or if not, end this post with something other than an introduction. So I searched my files on my computer and as much as I find it silly to post, this is what I made this blog for, so here is one draft. Not that I think it is even worthy enough to be even called a draft. More like a drabble.

“Her name is Adrianne,” said Mrs. Dellings earlier that day.
I was to fill out a detailed paper, answering all questions asked, about my current health status, my current residence, my past, my criminal record, and how long I would be willing to dedicate myself to the patient, or rather, Mrs Dellings daughter. Mrs Dellings wanted as much protection for her daughter as she could get.
When I finished answering the questions, I looked at Mrs Dellings with a serious expression.
“Your daughter will be in good hands, Mrs Dellings.” I handed her the papers, and she took them warmly. “I am very grateful, my boy. ” she said.
I turned my head to look across the hallway to see the various docters and nurses walking, the white walls blending with their uniforms, only to clash with the cold dark tiles that scattered the floor.
“So when should I begin?”

If you've seen my other bits of writing on my other blog, then you should recognize that I have a habit of keeping the reader hanging at the end, much to my convenience. It gives me an excuse to not be obliged to write more if I can't think. And that's speaking honestly!

You are free to say what you like. Just don't steal my writing if you can.