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Fly
Lisboa Miraflores
Tastey, aint'cha?
21 April 2020 @ 12:43 pm
09 September 2009 @ 03:59 pm
25 April 2009 @ 02:20 am
Strange how a person always feels peace right before time traveling - maybe even calm, as if they're going home.
I'd rather think it'd feel like your soul is being torn in two.
I'd rather think it'd feel like your soul is being torn in two.
30 March 2009 @ 01:19 pm
I have nightmares sometimes about my brother wanting to kill himself.
Since he works on a Navy Ship, in my dreams he always has radiation or maybe he just can't take anymore. He's giving all his stuff away and saying his last goodbyes, and I'm just there watching him.
It makes my head hurt, because I don't want him to go.
Since he works on a Navy Ship, in my dreams he always has radiation or maybe he just can't take anymore. He's giving all his stuff away and saying his last goodbyes, and I'm just there watching him.
It makes my head hurt, because I don't want him to go.
24 December 2008 @ 04:25 am
Another Teaser, because I can.
Still brainstorming..
Naruto is in the desert. He's an immortal, so his story will never end.
--
--
He had out-lived them all..
And dark things lived in the desert. Dark, unmentionable things that thrived and flourished in the dead of night where not even the sun could reach. They squirmed beneath the heaving sands, always unseen. Always reaching through the unbreakable surface to grab at unwary prey.
Over the years, Naruto learned to think as of the mind of one. When they squirmed, he squirmed. When they broke for the surface, he broke for the surface.
Needless to say, they never latched around his feet.
-
The sea was like sand -- No. That is to say, the sand was like a sea; a great, thriving, massive sea tainted yellow. The color of gold, the color of a plusing sun.
-
There are no roads, where he has gone.
The sky ends into land. As far as the eye can see is one horizion, one long line of wild blue burning into gold. Gold, gold, as bright as the sun -- No. Brighter even. A fury of fire sweeping beneath his feet.
The grass ends, the ground ends. There are no roads here.
Only fire.
-
Dark things live beneath the ground. Dark, unnatural things.
The sand is pitted against itself. It is a thriving sky unto it's own. It tosses and thrashes, darkness falling between flat dunes. The shadows rave.
They call, sometimes .. It is an echoing, almost enchanting sort of melody that leaves no words. What is almost not a voice moves through the underneath, lingers there.
The sound chills his bones.
-
A wave, a wave of wind and grains carts over the horizon, flashing into being with a screech and a roar. It churns and rolls, more than water could ever hope to be, and covers everything seen with a deadly fog.
And then, the heavens part, and he steps forth.