Didn't it?

I fell in love with everything you said,
Too bad I didn't notice, that, the sea had swept me away.

The words were always just hollow birds.

Has to be done.

RIP Micheal Jackson.

It's fair to say that without your inspiration the music that we jam to today would not be of the quality it is. Honesty, one of the greatest musical inspirations of the 21st century.

There will only ever be one Fred Astaire, Elvis Presley and only one Micheal Jackson.

Fear

I can't think how to begin to phrase this thought. How strange? But yet this feels like something that is apparent to everyone everywhere - even if you don't like me.
In this life time it seems to be true that many people often say that we, as one person, are only one half of another and somewhere for the chosen of us there is that perfect otherhalf. I've always believed in that - and I know that if something that good strikes me down then I have pure solidarity. But then if it doesn't then thats life. To be more specific to the point though, the reason behind this blog is the journey to finding that. Now I'm not sure if this is just me, although it probably isn't, but in this cortex we each carry inside even after a feeling has left us for some reason theres this sweet nectar still lingering. Of course, this is for everyone - jesus christ - that would be tiring!
But even though we try so hard to hide our dread - our inner most fears - we still persevere in them anyway and persevering is just as bad as failing on certain occassions. This fear though for some reason beyond the idea of being eaten alive and all the pain that comes along with every glance, we still torture anyway. Sometimes it would be easier to live alone?
Sometimes how it would but the road we walk never runs smooth. And now my heads going all spirrally so I'm going to bed.

Love.

Where?

I don't think she cares. She just walks away and pretneds everythings rosey.

Its not, truly.

Lol at your failure

I hope you tweens are happy, 'cause you ruin everything. Haha.

You've all officially slaughtered Twilight.
Your destroying Elliot Minor.
And...your killing every kind of good music.

I mean, you actual fool - comparing radio head to Hannah Gaytana. To be honest - shes a plastic barbie and radiohead are just awesome.

Ftw with 'satanic' music ;)

A snippet :)

Requiem (snippet)

It was about half past ten when Hayner took off from home. The soft Saturday sun wept from the sky and gave grace to the soft lands surrounding Abberly. Days like today were that of which invited the premeditated flaunts of spring into the imprints of most minds in the area. Some thought about the money tourism would bring, others thought about the experiences that the warm weather would give, but Hayner – well he couldn’t think.

Young Maple trees lined the paths that let into the deep forest thicket on the north eastern side of the town. However warm it was today – Hayner was aware that few people would bother hiking around here after the past circumstances. It was still like a comatose dream to the boy, the news articles and the words in the wind; nothing seemed real because in reality every segment of every memory was in the surreal aspect that it wasn’t believable. It was like a dream from the night before, when you can remember parts but yet some sections are so dark – so terrifying – that it throws all true prospective out of the water. Yet – it was all truth, hand on heart.

The town was in the distance as the boy continued to track at an even pace towards the large array of greens and browns. Rather than having stone paved walkways, the paths around here were worn in dirt from the hundreds of uses in the past. The thick rogue grass crept onto the side of the channel at times but there was never a section were the dirt was disturbed from its harmony. The odd daffodil crop etched into the grass – the wonderful shades of yellow softened the texture and wove with the occasional buttercup. Both were ready for the young mothers and children of Abberly to harvest. The yellows seemed to disappear though, as the trail led further into the forest. Light was stolen from the skeleton limbs of the oak trees and the thick smell of damp wood replaced the softer of spring pollen. Hayner didn’t seem to mind as he marched – his head drew to the floor infront of him – and only did he look up when the path split off into two separate directions.

For those who weren’t aware of the deep forest on the north eastern side of Abberly, you would cease to know what it held within. Now like any human curiosity, exploring, is something that many – young and old – enjoy to seek. Here in the thicket lay an array of wildlife from beautiful little rabbits to disease ridden foxes. In between the shadows of the trees and the underlay of the heather bushes predators lay patiently waiting for their dinner to fall into their skilfully planned traps. Heather lined between trees everywhere making it prime from the damp to form – it was perfect for a parasites den. Nature wasn’t always beautiful.

The boy was slowing in his trail now as the soft lapping of rushing water echoed from beyond the distance. The splashes and the spills rimmed from the large rocks and turns that meandered in the river, it cut through the further side of the forest. Hayner halted as he found the paths disappear.

“Wrong turning,” He muttered with a sharp tone.

The voice awoke at the first sound the boy had made in at least an hour. The haunting howl of laughter rippled around the cells inside his head. A grimace folded across his face as the piercing tone rippled around his mind. In that spot, right there, he would have passed out.

“I refuse to give you the honour,” He bit hard against the soft spring wind.

Another howl of laughter forced along the membrane – grimace in hand – Hayner shook his head potently. It dawned on him then that coming out here could have possibly been a very bad idea. Without the knowledge as to why or as to how this, voice, could be responsible for the countless murders that had occurred in the outskirts of Abberly – including this quaint little wood. He shuddered at the thought.

Ignoring the cackles now, Hayner moved along the grassy edge of the reasonably wide river. He attempted not to think of his chances if he were to fall into the deep waters or even what those deep waters held – insisting – he grasped onto a branch of the tree. It was sharp under his paw, as he dug on harder he felt it scratch at the surface of his skin, allowing the blood to ooze slightly from the thinnest layer. His mind was too busy to care. For one he was focusing away from the cold voice, and for two he was aiming his direct current of thoughts onto the dead log that was resting on either side of the river. It was a perfect bridge. In a swift movement Hayner darted his palm from the sharp branch and onto the damp limb. The blood from the cuts previously kissed from the branch mixed with the wet dirt lingering along the log, he whimpered slightly as the adrenalin drained and the true depth of the cuts sunk in. Biting back the pain he clasped onto the limb with all strength – crouched like a monkey – he pulled himself over the lapping waters. Not once did he look down for the fear would probably cause him to fall. As he lowered himself eagerly off the log at the opposite side he threw away the tremors his muscles had gained and stared triumphantly at the feat he had successfully overcome. Out of the corner of his eye something swung - hanging in the wind off the oak tree was a rope swing that bounced freely in the wind. Panic ran through him then – he prayed, oh so prayed that the children that created that did not come here this year. Especially at night, the thought of what would wait them was unbearable as he sighed slightly.

“That was pathetic,” The voice mocked, finally breaking its icy silence inside his head.

Every segment in Hayner’s brown eyes widened as the voice trilled through his body, and then he continued walking.

“This is even more pathetic!” The voice was laughing manically now. Not a single nerve was left unwrapped from the lacy voice. The forest rushed past Hayner as he ran quicker, hastily picking up the pace. He ignored the sights flashing past his eyes – the pinks merged hand in hand with the browns and greens. It was like someone had placed everything inside the forest into a blender. The music the voice played was cold but yet invited as it snarled in pleasure at the new found speed of pace. It had the tonality of a soft minor chord as the icy ringlets of age rolled over the cracks that were once there.

Hayner’s eyes were firmly shut as he attempted to drown out the sound of the ever so inviting voice. A sigh protruded his lips as he split his eyes open for a second – then the speed dawned on him. The air seemed to flush from his lungs in unison with the colour from his face. He must have been travelling at triple the speed of any normal human? Then again, he did have a voice murmuring inside his head. He had to be crazy, he just had to be.

Don't steal :)

Midtown to Downtown

1. There's this feeling I can't seem to shake off.
2. Nevermind my mind.
3. My own personal brand of herion.
4. New York City blues.
5. The silent song (You and Me)
6. Honey, you don't have to stay.
7. Old habits die hard.
8. 21
   
9. Beauty and the beast
10. Don't let me down.
11. Heading back east.