A Funky-as Soiree...a few octopus butlers and a promise of a night to rival any fancy-hoo-har that you can come up with...

You received the invitation in your teapot correct?

Though if you haven't found it yet,

it may very well be in the cookie jar...

as we all know

that the things we covet the most are in the most coveted of places,

and you do know, don't you?

 

That this...is a call.

A call to attend, a most marvellous event...

on this eve of nights numbering 365,

We want you right now....

we want you in your best,

and please do not hesitate...

to invest your best intentions and fun,

and heartfelt best guest.

 

The location is one of splendid descent...

and will guarantee a night for all.

Hosted by the dear Sinister Meeting Room...

and you know how it angst's them for a friend to refuse the call,

so best to come...

and enjoy the lights...

a festival it is,

for our local night sprites.

 

 



 

If you accept our call you shall arrive by boat...

and please don't mind,

the giant mice who float...

around to greet you,

and do not offend them...

oh no, I beg of you,

for they are as sharp as cut glass...

and their eyes can see for miles times two,

But really it doesn't matter...

which way you arrive,

For either way is beautiful...

and most certainly a ride,

You can drift in via the tattered wings...

we left with our note,

a simple case of pressing them to your back...

and casting all mishap thoughts aside should ensure,

a most lovely flight...

Though of course you will notice,

the way we have decked them with lights...

it is for your enjoyment and relief,

to burn out the night...

Then perhaps you will use the old methods,

of travelling through the labyrinth...

tossing the rice and spinning around thrice,

You should roughly meet up with your most excellent of guides...

For only he can lead you through the maze,

to our heart of hearts...

a curious fellow he is,

you might recall him...

as short as a long blade of grass,

and wearing green as though it were made for him...

But either here or either there you shall arrive,

at the city of Dwarka...

a magnificent place,

 

Simply follow then the Christmas beetles,

and fireflies and lanterns...

held by the ghosts,

of our long-dead friends...

ah yes you may ask,

what does this mean...

why do I see the faces of those closest to me,

who are gone?

Well dear, dear friend...

we happened to think,

that it really was quite unfair...

to leave the dead in their beds,

So we performed a little incantation...

a slight widening of the world and room,

and invited our dear departed friends...

to join in the merrymaking too,

Don't be alarmed...

for they will lead you to the cities' heart,

and there you will find...

a palace of white stone,

Inside you will come across staircases and halls...

grand as the grand canyon is tall,

Chandeliers made from polished glass...

and that feast you always read about in stories,

but have never before touched...

But I do not drink,

you say to each other...

my virtue my virtue!

My valour, my valour!

I implore you dear noble one,

to glance out the window!

See there,

in the pale trees...

three birds do feast on an abundance of berries,

 

So what...?

you do say,

and we smile at you...

because the fact of the matter,

 is that those foul are more drunk than you...

Laugh if you will,

but listen true...

if nature commits it,

seeks out tonics that cause a merrifying in one...

then it is wise to listen and join in the fun,

So go ahead please...

and drink from the fountain,

only the very best for you...

in these last golden hours,

Dine off the berries...

piled high on engraved plates,

and take as much rose champagne as you can hold...

We have as many delicacies ,

as there are worlds and lands under the sun...

and not one tongue shall go wanting,

Notice the butlers!

A merry old bunch...

of dear enchanted octopus,

the colour of ink...

they sway around on their chaos of legs,

offering up canapes and itsy bitsy treats...

despite the fact,

that they seem pretty drunk themselves...

do not make fun,

and please...

no octopus jokes,

 

 

just eat...

In this place you shall not gain weight,

as it is a night of forgetting...

later perhaps we shall all dance,

then further on still see the moon with new eyes...

If you like we can prance upon the hills,

and set up bonfires under the galaxies...

roast marshmallows,

be traditional children in adult bodies...

play cops and robbers,

Swim in the waves...

eat cheese from the moon,

and romp with the palace greyhounds...

who know a thing or two,

And once you have partaken...

as much of it all as you can,

we have one final gift for you...

From the night that lasts forever,

in the city named Dwarka...

we give to you a fabled sunrise,

in the place where time stops forever...

before thy life move forward,

 

 

A creature will carry you...

born of the light,

but reminiscent of the shadows...

its' arms encompasses all,

and it shall take you in...

bare you upon,

wind-currents of light...

until you find yourself sitting,

on a beach of pale sand...

and wavering colours,

and flight...

flight shall be who you are and were and can be,

You shall see a new sun...

Dawn upon your world,

and as the night-dust droops your eyes...

the creature will sweep down,

You shall wake the following morning...

in real space and time,

with no more than a night lost to perhaps just dream time...

You shall wonder and doubt,

fear that it was figment...

until you see the note,

with your name inscribed...

 

'A decent good night, and many more to follow...all you need for this, is the heart within you...

you have greatness inside of you, and goodness too, if you ever wish to play again,

I certainly hope and believe...that you know what to do.

The key is the belief.'

 

 

  Hey darlings,

    I won't talk for very long, as I have already taken up so much of this post with my above enticement...:] Oh I do soo hope. I have only had some marvellous new years...one in the blanket-like-aromatic air of Bali, sharing a Baileys with my Dad and watching from our balcony the fireworks. The other was last year...in which I was still living on my island. We had an open-air (and bar) beach party, with fireworks right there on the jetty across from us, and music and disco and food...:] hmm, was wondrous...but I shall have more wonderful ones I know.

   For now I implore you to have a wonderful time, and I do wish that I could really invite all of you to the city of Dwarka for tonight, as I know it would have been a blast...
   At the moment though...I only wish I could be spending this new years with a certain special somebody...who I know is listening. ;]

  Much Love and happy 2013!

  Miss CLScarlett xx

  P.S. I finally got the review back for my book and it has so excited me :] yup, yup...I have also decided that based on it I will start re-writing it myself but also get a full book critique. Which means that it would be a line-by-line edit pretty much, as I seem to need all the help I can get with it with how busy my life is. But very, very happy with the review. :]





 





 

The Beast Whispers...as we became lost in the night...until we saw the dawnlight

I am waiting at the displaced railway station...

Running from the winds aged touch,

Beating my breath on a foot-race to the mountains...

and screaming from the top,

I'm leaving my shadow behind for a passer-by...

and sewing my tears into a shawl to cover me,

While the voices whisper into my left ear...

but never my right,

Sometimes the shades and hues become all there is...

and we travel down ancient paths,

I scry the sun, the stars and moon...

and whisper to you,

a tune a tune...

Your host has travelled back in time,

to a place more lost and kind...

and shall be indisposed for a length of time,

Some creatures find the wilds a part of their soul...

and mine grows forests that call and call,

It is only years...

that bring either ignorance of that haunted sound,

or a disregard of all else...

to follow it far and wide,

To cast off the boundaries of this life and world...

and to find a way,

to where the chaos quietens and...

the moths cease eating away at time and my bones,

 

 



 To be spun anew,

to leave what once was...

forgotten...

It is the memories,

rather than the days themselves...

that brings me love,

How can one feel so much and yet so little...

We are masked by ice,

yet a labyrinth of splintering wood lays beneath...

I can't, can't, can't sleep,

I can't wake...

Because I fear what is ahead,

it only drowns out the need for sanity...

and makes a criminal of those who are good,

One-day we shall all be the evil...

even though we never were,

Appearance and reflection is in the eye of the beholder...

and I do so long to shatter even that,

Hold tight...

less the ground swallows you,

and the waves break your back...

Then again maybe that would be better,

to be lost, to be mad, to scream...

We can no longer tell the difference,

Yet one day...

it is light we will see,

and it will be familiar, and yet...

alien,

Like the slow grinding away of water against shell...

we shall drift,

through the wind currents...

and air-paths,

Beneath a new Heaven of stars...

Until we reach the lanterns,

that show us how...

a guiding whisper,

and a tram-line that goes so far...

that there is no way back,

only forward...

and where we go to,

is something close to Home.

 

Imbued.

 

 
  Things trouble me lately...but, it is not so bad that I cannot live and love, and so I shall continue to do so...if I could speak plainly I would, but...alas, I am cursed like the cat, to speak in riddles. It is up to you, dear, dear reader to devise the meaning.
   I love all of you, and wanted to leave you with these few photos of curious gifts I recieved for Christmas.

   Much Love and wishes,

   Miss CLScarlett xx

My magical purple and yellow embroidered shoes...

  

A quill pen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lilac Shadows and a Shade of Darkness brighter than the Sun...whome I love.

Chimes beat...as the heat it slips,

away...

like a dream long-gone,

and in the streets,

the rivers meet...

and snow falls by the roadside,

A cherry tree to guide you through the storm,

and a pair of strong arms and wings...

to call your own.

We meet in the shadows,

and lilac light...

to throw kisses and wishes under the

mistletoe.

We sleep the sleep of forgetting,

as the red snow falls...

and we are carried,

carried,

far away from here.

Listen to the silence...

the cold it reflects,

what's there Beyond,

and merely listening to the tones...

opens the gateway.

Step through,

let your blizzard swirl...

Keep the tea-light held high,

and embrace the cold.

Dedicated to someone I care very much about.

  I feel lavishly exuberant....
     Breathtakingly exhilarated.
In other words...I'm happy to be writing to you, dear dear ones. And hey, I hate to admit to it...but I am a mortally romantic creature, and I do so love Christmas time. (I know, you've heard it enough heyy).



   Songs themed by this time and the craving for snow and pale times fill me the more by the day...
But....
   I fear that I feel the need to apologise to everyone who has been decent enough to keep reading or (occasionally read) this Blog. Yes...I pulled another number on you all. I said I'd host an end-of-the-world party and, I didn't. I said that I'd be much more involved in that whole list and I haven't, so I am sorry.
   We have no control over where events will take us, and lately my life has been filled with the working hours. However, surprisingly - even for me - a great number of things on the entire list have been fulfilled:
   
    Playing chess. Experiencing love. Going to the beach more. Writing more and putting my writing plan into action. Discovering a few theories and ideas. Partying more...

    I still haven't invented something....which was on the list mind, but I think, considering everything...it's a good achievement. Although, it has kinda freaked me out that as soon as I made the list pretty much...things started to come true on it! Call me superstitious, but...it seemed to me that if this has all just started to come true, then maybe something will happen after the 21st, today?

  I have decided however that since it is Christmas, and the...end is nigh hehe, I shan't get into the big deep dark stuff I usually get into. I think, being close to people we know and care about and just...I know, cliche huh? But if the world is going to end, I plan to drink all day...and just do normal things, go out to a movie with my mum and then write. :]

   To all those who love and fear and laugh and...:] whatever else, I wish you a jolly old time and a million-billion Christmas joys....or if you're not into these sort of festivities...I still wish you a good time.

  Much Love,

  Miss CLScarlett xx

 P.S. I saw a movie today called The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Never read the book but...my gosh, it wasn't what I expected, and...I understood. Seriously, if anyone else (kinda like me), experiences tormentors in the mind through memories or just thoughts....or circumstances: you're not alone. Cliche I know, but...it's true. Sometimes we do forget...when we build walls and faces and mirrors around us to not let people see the chaos underneath our skin...that we can't even control about its' being there. And in that, we can forget eventually that the mask we wear is a mask, and soon they become our real faces. Sometimes we forget to believe or understand that there were and are still good parts to us, and that the darkness isn't who we are.
   I love you guys, everyone I've known or don't...so much. I love the idea of you, and even if I don't care for myself...at least I care for you.

  Scar xx



 

A Small Glass of Pink-Python-Pink-Blossom for you Herr Rabbit...oh shucks, oh shucks!

A Lazy Beat...

(a night in Bali)

From his seat upon the house ornings, the stars his hanging roof,

Sat a man with no regards, music twisting from his throat...

He smiled his moon-like, Cheshire grin, his eyes glowing slits,

As he looked down upon me, sang and hissed 'Hey kid.'

His voice a lazy beat, as his heart beat a writhing tap,

His body coarsed with reptile electric as his feet spun him up the roof,

Sweeping a look behind, he gestured once to me, 'Wat's your game kid?'

As he spun and danced out of sight...

I caught a look again, as he played with the shadows and made soft hues with his voice,

He rounded upon me, grasped my hand and pulled me under...

further from light,

He inspired greatness, swang in corners, danced the streets with stars sparking fires...

his eyes their kinder.

Oh walking shadow, eternal mood...

Sing me at night, show me the way to your moon...

He smiled at this, tilted his hat, crept off into mist, swung back...

'Come' he said 'Find it yourself.'

Eyes alight, with a cats gleam...

hardened skin, he leaps...is gone.

Night.

 

 

I have been gone for a century and one...

returned from behind the earth and in it,

I took the sailing boat right and then north-east...

and told an old tale for passage across,

they took me to be another...

with the broken trails of silver and gold,

I tug here and there about...

Through a hallway,

where shadows take form...

and grin at me with yawning mouths,

moths...

 

 

I took up the coat,

took up the banner-flute...

and called the dark creatures,

that are more and more to me...

like an old forgotten tune,

that is true and belonging to me...

What is shade is not always hideous,

and what sounds horrid can be

 the most marvelous of fates...

I travelled back to the halls of stone,

where the statues creep...

and the flowers weep,

at what we have done to gain our names...

I see through the dust,

to a faded light...

I seize the rice from the bowl set there,

I turn around twice

and chant 'lot's of rice'...

the Sinister Meeting Room calls,

I am ushered in to begin again...

with someone standing with me ten thousand years before.

 

 



 

     

  Well hello there....

 

    I have recently had so much inspiration for my stories and just life in general. Maybe I'll learn to become an architect...maybe I'll create a character called Miss May Be.

    The other night I happened to be chancing a casino under the guise of Scarlett to any questionee there and I stumbled across four or five different people that so...intrigued me. They all wore black outfits, including the girls with them and they were very well-made clothes. It was also that they just held an atmosphere about themselves...that they knew something and even though they were there and gambling, it was all a mere bit of humor to them.

     They also...ahm were wearing identical matching amulets. Very goth...and [I'm serious] in the rough shape of a dragon with a drop of red glass beneath the creatures' tales.

 

    I soo wish I knew if they belonged to some elite, dark and intelligent group...or cult. :]

Gave me heaps of ideas for new stories...but, alas...I have so many other stories going on in my head right now, and that I'm working on that it may need to sink back into the Story DreamTime for a while...until it develops more.

 

   Wishing you a merry Christmas and a billion pink pythons...

 

    Much Love,

    Miss CLScarlett xx

 

   



The Tides Greet and a small Instance of Conversion with the Enigmatic Mr. White n S.

I found it again...that place,

Something I'd forgotten.

I never would have expected to...even when it used to be so my love,

and what inspired certain parts of my writings...

 

Envision...

closing your eyes,

and a deep, dark space.

But not...scary dark,

but a heavy dark...

that is almost more a cool presence

 than anything else.

I don't know how to say it....

except that it is such a depth-ful and lucid thing,

that you feel you could begin seeing objects;

and places...and pinpoints of gold,

There in the darkness.

 

I used to see images in it,

moving scenes...

and it was so much like the

doorway to eternity that occasionally opens to me...

that I feel they are,

or belong to...

the same force or presence.

 

I slipped the ordinary shadows of my mind...

in a movie theatre today,

and saw again that heavy,

Creating-pregnant darkness

 to the side of my eyes and just behind them,

 

I smiled...

It was almost,

euphoric.

 

  Mr. White n S. : 'Driving you so....really Scar, how much more can you stand, when life has almost completely filled your mind with broken shards? It only becomes more crowded by the minute, and I know the holes thrown in glass inside are beginning to match the holes you make in walls...out.'

 Scar: 'Holes? There is light...there still is. And to stop treading around the shards only results in fatal collapse, and you know, You know...what happened the last time the string broke.'

Mr. White n S. : 'Such childish words...when there's more, so much more, and I know you will break. You're already enough like me already...the ice, the voidness...a creature bred with no more than a turmoil of emotions that belong to another beneath a hardness that grows by the second, and a machine. Only mechanical the motions that you go through, and the words you speak...in an attempt to sound nice, because the truth is far simpler. Come on...make me show them. I...dare you. I'd be more than happy as it seems far too distasteful for your own hallowed self.'

  Scar: 'Pleasant words from a manipulative-shape shifter.'

  Mr. White n S. : 'Avoidance...count your costs dearly child. They're all you seem capable of noticing these days.'

  Scar: 'Rah-rah-rah...go stab yourself in the foot.'

  Mr. White n S. : 'You're only proving my point.'

  Scar: 'And what...is your point?'

  Mr. White n S: 'That you are at war...any fool can see if they merely look close enough. Or no...perhaps you have built yourself up strongly enough: I'll give that. Though, the tale of three sides and a million smaller versions of the same, imploding into one another...is not new. Though you consider it to be and I shall be there...the being you shall become when it all finally converges. Who you turn to child, turn into. You have always been the gateway to my first physical step.'

 Scar: 'Only when the sun touches the earth.'

 Mr. White n S. : 'Well they say that isn't too far away either, don't they?'

  Scar: 'Only in your deluded mind.'

 Mr. White n S. : 'Keep whispering...keep lying. The only person you're wonderful at lying to is yourself Scar.'

 
  Ahm.....

      So...merry Christmas Cherubs! I feel like I haven't Blogged in such a long time, and the way things are, the ideas only cluster and grow more and more when I don't write: so that must be an upside. You know...
      I heard the term a few days ago, that our brain is filled with trees...that the memories themselves are a lot like trees. Growing, and wilting whenever fog drifts through.
      I also discovered that apparently...in some countries in the 18 and 1900s, cats were born with mutations: particularly, wing-like flaps on their backs that looked like wings, but of course...didn't allow them to fly. Maybe it was a hoax, but there were a lot, and in different countries and time periods. I've even read old poems about cats like that.
     It's fascinating, I think.

    I went to see Rise of the Guardians today, and...it was beautiful, and I just...forget. How easily we do. And I end up thinking, that it really is true that our words have powers. Sometimes you can say so much shit about yourself, and be thinking it and feeling it, that it becomes a cloud that obscures so much else...hence often resulting in a shadow-like dark presence that seems to follow one around, I think.
    But for the first time in a little while I spoke some positive things out into the air....and it was just, an instant weight almost, lifted from me. And hey, with the fact that I keep saying and thinking to myself that fate and death are following me around...then no wonder it would eventually happen.

   What I'm saying, is that...words do have power.
   
    But this movie....it brought me back to a happier place, and just...made me feel how important and life-giving belief of some sort is...that's what I often forget.

    Anyway...the villain in it, Pitch, made me nostalgic for Sodom; my Mr. White n S. Problem is, when I see movies like this I'll often end up feeling the moths for days afterwards...and in the past, when I was younger, after I'd seen a similar sort of movie, I'd do my drawing adventures: my Writing DreamTime, and it would cure it...to an extent. :]

    Enough chit-chat anyhoo...

   My book is currently being professionally evaluated, and so I shall leave you.

   Much Love,
   Miss CLScarlett xx

   P.S. You can like my page on Facebook now by clicking on the link at the top of the page (that of the peculiar bottle cap), and by doing so can ask me questions or just chat. :]

    
  
 

 



The Ghosts Wedding Dress: a creature Birthed from the Ice and Stone...a Wood.

   They told me we were floating on the edge of something...

   Some kind of an age, or way of being...

and that if we didn't go back to the Sea,

   We would all be lost.

 

   Sometimes I feel like my more natural place is between the layers of water. My skin and eyes and face feel alive and young and eternal and nymph-like again.

   Often throughout the day (and especially in this heat wave of late), all I can think is that the skin - all our skin, and mine - is crying out for water in the form of sweat. We are mostly filled with water, and we cry water and we sweat water and we drink water...if not for our desire for oxygen, maybe we should belong deep in it.

  I believe it even more as a Pisces. :]

 

  In the place I used to live - before Here, with all its wide streets and uneasy similarity to the home of my Cara from my books - we had this salt-water pool [as well as a creek], and :] we often reffered to it as a valley. Because even though it was very close to huge shopping malls and bright lights, in the area we were in...none of that was visible. Walking to the top of our property, all I would be able to see were rolling hills and the power lines: chattering away with their alien talk. We were at the base of this sweeping hill with houses positioned right at the top, so we were always in the base of the valley.

   And the pool...

It was always as cold as ice, and even though that made it harder to escape into, we did and...it was incredible.

   I'd often get myself into the water by envisioning myself as an ice dragon, with smooth, blue scales, that dwells in the water and longs for the chilling embrace of that water. I'd close my eyes and leap in...and I could envision it and see it and it was euphoric. :]

 

   There are many things I miss about that home.

 

    I wonder if anyone ever watched LOST...it, it's the story I wish I had written, or could write now as a novel for the people behind the idea. I had so many dreams about it and most particularly, about Richard...it really started with my brother, and he was the one who prompted us to start watching every episode, until I had seen every single one.

  It still haunts me, and I think...that the things and beings that plague us the most, are so close to being loved things. Because the most terrifying things, go hand in hand with beauty and yearning I believe.

 

  
  Why else would we be so attracted in so many ways to gloomy and rather chilling things; because despite their nature, there is something hypnotic in them that calls to us.
   It's why I love Sodom, my Mr. White n S so fabulously, despite his often dry humour and cruel remarks...he's always the first to put his arm around me when I'm truly down.

   There are the real people too of course, and in the end, there's nothing like a real hug or kind word, but sometimes they aren't available and you have to make do.

   But lately there's definitely kind words for me...from a dear, dear friend.

 

    I have also discovered a rather home-like place.

   It's called FanStory, and it's a website for all writers. You pay $2.88 to become an actual member (per month), and you can post your stories and poems and millions from around the world can review and grade it. It really works and it has so heartened me.

    Love, love, love it.

 

   I also believe that I have found the person and friend I shall take with me to the Night of Writing Dangerously. Am so looking forward to one day doing it.

 

  However now...I shall go and work on my second book in the series, as lately I have not written so much in that area, and it's needed. In the end, you can read about writing and advice and other stories for eternity, but unless you go back to the actual writing itself...everything else (all that advice), becomes pointless to an extent I think.

 

  Falling deep and falling asleep...

we while away the hours and hows,

Noises deep...bring the sleet,

and We lay upon our ice-cold sheets...

We turn around stumbling,

to the monsters we create,

and we Surrender ourselves to fate...

Hidden we are,

As not,

Until down that fabled road we walk,

Be here now and less unbidden...

Make the stars shine,

From underneath heaven.

 

 

 

 

  Merry Christmas Cherubs!

  Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

  P.S. Come and look at my page on Fanstory.com, I am listed as Miss C.L.Scarlett.

 

 

       

 

A Malient View of Dogma and Cloudlesness For You.

 

 

 

Things connect...I believe...

like tiny strands on a billion-strand network

of the most delicate computer.

 

And we all can snap so easily...and break so hard.

Turns out fate enjoys freezing us cold every once in a black moon,

But Oh the...thrill and otherworldly light life takes on when you...

believe that you're going to die.

 

It's not how people expect...

that looming shadow always trailing you,

That has a physical weight almost.

Death has brushed up against me closer than normal lately,

and it's taken me on a trip: in a manner of speaking.

 

All I understand about it is that I'm glad a majority of it has passed...

what still remains is merely like an impression,

and the even greater belief that anything can and possibly will happen.

It's...

it's the sort of mad, terribly sad and furious desperation

that you see in the movie,

Blade Runner,

with the Replicants of real people.

They burn ferociously bright but die younger than any other,

and just the fact that they know they will die...

sends them into that state of mind.

 

Recklesness of a sort goes hand in hand with close encounters.

 

A light switched on,

and a Blade gently pressed to my heart...

sometimes you can't feel any of it,

Sometimes it's all there is,

and the world pales...

and the voices call.

 

 

 

I grew wings yesterday...

and flew away to a place,

Where I saw old friends,

and drank down the violet tonic

and danced in an empty pub.

 

       Oh really darlings...it was my friends' 21st birthday...and the last time I went to one of hers, we all went to a midnight screening and dress-up themed Harry Potter event. :] I know...such a dork heyy?

The dress is awesome...if I can be a gal about it :]...

Very goth and from this curious little place that I found up a narrow staircase that always

has equally curious music playing and a somehow nice but somehow off-beat scent to it.

TrashMonkey....

 

I am in love...

 

   But I dressed in my winged shoes, my dark Alice dress, my home-made wings and racoon-baby-ring eye shadows...was soo fun. :]

 

Hell Bunny...

 

A few days ago...the door to eternity opened up to me again...

as it usually does at nighttime.

But, maybe it's just that...like when I mentioned that one time that sometimes I feel like when I walk along a path, the trees and air around me and to my sides somehow...

presses in against me.

But in the case I'm referring to, it was so intense,

that I could actually pick up bits and peices of how others were and felt,

just from a brief glance or way...

and heyy, maybe I am imaging it all, but it sure feels real,

and...

Sometimes I hate it, sometimes I love it...

Because it's not so much from wanting others to just be happy and okay,

but more that if they aren't...

I pick up all they're off and pain-ridden emotions.

 

Perhaps not so melodramatic as that hehe :], but sometimes it's like that.

 

In fact, it's exactly like this movie preview I saw ages ago where the main character had the ability to see auras and shapes and presences in all these brilliant colours around certain people where no one else could.

:]

Believe what you want to believe dear friends, but there's always unexplainable things I think,

and explaining them...or trying to understand them kinda...

unravels them.

 

 

A touch, a soft breath...

Takes the wind soaring,

to a bed...a land, a place.

I once dreamt...of a red mirror room.

Each dream I'd have of it,

I'd know it was there...

Waiting for me,

Like some strangely calling land.

I'd scamper through corridors,

and down winding ways,

to Find what had eluded me...

a Spell in-bound Bound.

I walk along a path,

I walk along a bridge until I come...

To a place where I choose,

I choose to walk past the gentlemen There...

they bow to me,

With Lost Star eyes...

a Darkness that glistens and draws me in,

With soft acknowledgements and suave calls...

Yet I turn,

and they watch me pass...

Wise and yet hungry smiles on their suddenly sharp faces,

Until I am gone,

and I have lost sight...

But I continue,

And it goes round,

and further in and to...

Darker,

But it is always darker between the light and the shades.

The shades are more beautiful,

for their...

Hidden-ness.

Call, call...

and slip through the edges,

Until one can look into the mirrors hidden behind the scarlet curtains of that room,

And see oneself, ourselves...as we actually are.

 

 

 

An umbrella for you love...

Whispers, whispers.

Stay with me,

and always watch the ocean...

Because one day,

It will be where They appear.

And where we will go...

When it's edgeless,

and we're edgeless,

and we are given our Eyes...

again.

 

 

 

 

Much Love,

 

Miss CLScarlett xx



 





A Road to a Road to a Road to a Road to a Road to a Well.



It's strange...

this, wanting.

It's like I've finally been shot through with life -

like a syringe of fleuroscent candy-light...

I put my whisp-thin palms firmly-trembly against a surface,

I notice a bottle that reads Drink Me printed on its side in old cursive...

I drink it,

I put it down...

There are soon more - soon many others more - and I drink them also.

We weigh...and we weigh up the consequences of our heart and nature,

and soon we are consumed,

I feel like I'm seeing the light for the first time or the last...

and lately...

It feels more like the last than anything else.

But if it's true...if it's all true,

then I'll have realized that fate and death had never truly stopped knocking,

and hey...

they do so looove to hit me in the most unexpected -

and unguarded -

places.

Needlessly said...

It's more a detached-incredulous-relief-bitter-

making-you-want-to-scream-and-cry-and-laugh-

bewilderment.

And then there's it,

the most...

I never expected this sort of a situation to feel like

This.

You've created the greatest electricity collar...

Herr Fate,

My body a ticking time-bomb,

and the penalty...

a drop of blood for him, forced unwillingly -

and by my own hands -

more times than I can count,

So as to live.

What kind of a life is that?

No.

None.

But...

To choose,

a life lived pacifying death...

or death,

or until fate just decides,

to run his blades through.

 

Un-melody just,

the only kind...

of decent act in any state.

Is to allow this one,

to wings she grows,

and a life lived on despite the blows...

To the sorrow we will go,

Until we can turn the light on again,

and then amend,

amen...

am.

Downtrodden - beaten back...

down the old devil's track,

I'm scared...

but maybe that's the whole idea of enduring,

Of staying put,

even when you are terrified.

At least,

at least I have an exit strategy!

Bahahahahahaha!

 

My gosh I just feel reckless and wild and

I wish...

that it would storm.

That the clouds would bulge ugly and purple,

and that the lightning would shriek and tear trees apart,

and that the thunder would be so deep and long and wide...

that you can feel it trembling in the core of your spine,

and in the space between the skin of your feet and the bones there.

That the wind would blow so feircely and

with such arctic wild coldness and

clear-ness,

that the grey would be stripped from buildings,

and the smog would lift and...

the trees would bow with its' weight

and their leaves blown into spindly threads.

Like wool.

Like tall grass.

Then the rain would splinter through the clouds and...

everything,

would be washed away.

There'd be nothing...

and all the medical papers would be

washed

down-streeaaaaam,

and

the records,

and

the darkness

and

the drowsiness

would lift.

 

An endless, clear rain-water,

that would wash away all the maps and clocks and presumptions.

And I could just...

wander away,

follow a pale, cobblestoned path...

to a city by the sea,

where there are no walls,

and all things stop...

as does time,

and it all just...

Where the long road ends,

and the streets are wide

and ...

I can feel my edges again.

 

  Much Love...and know that I miss all of you, my friends out there in, :] , the 'real world'.
     Yes I know...the place I work is a cult :] .
  But please don't worry about me too much yet, all of these things are really only what my body
seems to be telling me, and...I haven't even, I don't even know if it's true.
  It might, hopefully...just be all in my head. :]

  Miss CLScarlett xx