Reminiscent...my 7665th Day Sunshine and Gloom Party...

 

Welcome...

to my Sunshine and Gloom Party.

 

7665 days I've been alive...

give or take a few,

the view was very nice from inside...

and I've saved a slice of Black forest cake for you,

the celebrations began...

in weather like mud,

with thin and frayed ribbons about flute stems..

my colour of heart,

and a mad second face...

we are the insane,

we say we claim...

Blinker flashes of memory,

with a feel stolen from islands...

songs of my soul,

and memory too...

twisted our night away,

those I care so very much about...

closer to me than this,

we swayed and dined...

drunk punch and wine,

as the hours aged and I felt the darkness crawl away...

 

 

Cold tiles beneath my feet,

the unveling of the night...

and a bottle of malibu in my hand,

and finally there was rest...

 another day passed,

and another piece of my heart joined me...

we ate sushi and talked,

felt the wonder of the world...

spoke about darkness and light,

before the spirit of the city revealed itself...

from a view up lightyears away,

after which we wandered hotel halls...

and gazed at brilliant glass,

watched the many stages of life...

 

 

Early morning blues,

wake me instead...

but the peace of the day is quick to embrace me,

as I find more of my dear friends...

through the magical lights of a building,

where a million different sounds and useless colour combine...

to create a world,

that brightens our heart...

then to pancakes in our quaky paradise,

and an airy room with Basil growing from the tables...

clear ice,

then upon a small oasis...

atop a concrete carpark we wandered,

and past a wall that spat fire, and demons, and fabulous hues...

until finally the plane calls...

finally the plane beckons,

and all is broken up again...

we are lifted from this earth for a last time,

and I wish I could do it all again.

 

 

 

 

 

           The photo just above was from my brothers birthday party earlier this month. Another wonderful and enjoyable night. Mainly I just feel worn out...and reminiscent...:]

 

    It's still raining here...and sometimes I wonder if it will ever stop. Maybe it's not meant to, maybe I need it.

 

    Much Love and Birthday thanks...

    Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

 



The Wind Swept us into the Folds of Night...and we changed...became BEASTS of hope.

 

 

 So this is what you meant
When you said that you were spent?
And now it's time to build from the bottom of the pit right to the top
Don't hold back
Packing my bags and giving the Academy a rain check

I don't ever wanna let you down
I don't ever wanna leave this town
'Cause after all this city never sleeps at night

It's time to begin, isn't it?
I get a little bit bigger but then I'll admit
I'm just the same as I was
Now don't you understand?
I'm never changing who I am

So this is where you fell
And I am left to sell
The path to Heaven runs through miles of clouded Hell right to the top
Don't look back
Turning to rags and giving the commodities a rain check

 I don't ever wanna let you down
I don't ever wanna leave this town
'Cause after all this city never sleeps at night...

 

(Lyrics from 'It's Time' Imagine Dragons)

 

Well Scar...you would like a band that was named that, wouldn't you? ;]

 

 

I feel like I did that day long ago...

when I wrote the Blog about running and wolves -

feeling as though I could become one and just...

rip and shred everything up,

that my blood was pulsing and electric -

in other words...

the way my character in my first book often feels when the mood takes her.

I feel it again today...

but in a desperation of things-to-come,

and long-gone...

it's my birthday tomoro,

and I can't decide whether I'm excited or not...

but despite this,

it will be EPIC...

 

Brief rays of sun have lit up my life,

and even with the wind still howling in my bones and dreams...

I can hear the silence,

or what was silence now broken...

I float worlds away,

away...

 

Will you lie down with me upon a hill?

Where the world is before us...

and we are strong,

and not forgotten...?

we shall live and die as original US,

as we were...

before they tried to change us,

because we don't need to be afraid...

and we shouldn't have to always be careful,

I'm not confusing stupidity with freedom...

and I never will,

if the red man tells you not to cross at the road...

cross,

if there are no cars there...

if everyone turns the telly on at five,

don't turn it on at all...

press your ear to the ground and listen to its' pulse,

maybe then we'll remember that it matches our own heartbeat...

and that the land doesn't care for our rules or ways,

we can unravel so quickly...

and sometimes I want it to be done,

 





 

Sometimes I want the rain to rage and carress and destroy me...

sometimes I want to be pulled out to sea -

crushed and made new by the waves -

but dear friends,

don't misunderstand me...

it's not that I want to die,

it's that I want to live...

and feel every part of it soaring through my veins,

I want to cast off this old me...

and become something else,

maybe anything is possible...

maybe I have electricity running through my body and blood,

I feel channelled by the weather sometimes...

and a part of it,

:]

and the harder it would pour when I was on my way home...

on my bike,

the more I found that I could scream and laugh back at the weather...

that's what it wants,

the rain, the ice, the wind, the eddies...

their all screaming at and breaking and clashing at us,

because they want to wake us up...

when life can create such a deadness in us,

rather...

the routine of it,

I believe the skies want us to rage back at it when it rages at us...

that it even enjoys it,

 

 

we are magical creatures...

in a world that is trying to make us forget that we are.

 

We musn't forget.

Keep the faith,

don't be afraid to be wild...

but never let them see,

let them instead see how quiet you are...

when inside you're as loud as a fighter jet.

 

 

  Much Love and freedom-rapping dear friends,

  Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

  



The Wind-Eddies that Grew wings and Sang a Song for Thee...oh horizon Melt...

 

 

 

I feel as though Autumn and Winter is stretching out their claws to reach me...

that the days are becoming shorter and more filled with violent and magnificent weather.

I was absolutely drenched riding home from work on the small electric bike I have...

Meteors in other countries and yes,

a fabulously crazy world we live in.

 

Ah...but dear friends, I know I have not written to you for a while.

The wind has become my soul...

and each night the rain embeds itself in my skin,

All I feel beneath my feet and toes is mud and rushing liquid...

the fiery-storm-skies bellow down at me,

and the streetlights blink on...

as I pass them byy,

Chase the fevers and chills away with burning hot showers...

Moon-Teas and caramel mochas,

Huddle inside...

and watch the world up-end itself,

hoping for another Sunny day...

But at the same time,

they whisper...

we whisper,

the rain isn't so bad...

it washes away how we were and what we've done,

and each night I can feel it remaking me...

these storms,

To ride the eddies...

and the false wind-starts,

to dive into breathless...

everlasting paths of shattering reflections,

This is our Day.

 

A moody blizzard for you...

a Moody monsoon for thee.

We shall become the fish...

that swim in its' wake.

And perhaps one day we shall wake up to find...

that we have grown gills and scales.

To a paler, stiller land I leave you...

I go there now,

to wait for you...

and hope that you will journey there too,

we only live once...

and I shall only ever be 21 once,

Search for me...

and the ghouls that trail my shadows,

for the place of soft breezes...

and wide opens,

By Sweet Dwarka...

we make our rest,

between the lazy sun.

 

  Much Love and warmer weathers and Dreams,
  Miss CLScarlett xx

  P.S. I promise to Blog more...even if it is at one in the morning...or that I'll try :]

 



 

 

 





One Triple Fox Latte Please...St. Valentino.

 

 

Valentino...Valentine,

Ah but do you know the story?

Listen for the chime...

 

It was by a well that He first saw her,

leaning down to wash her hair...

such wondrous locks of gold and red,

a setting fire on her shoulder blade...

He was besmitten,

wanting to know...

her name - and why,

she was so alone...

but He was a god among men,

rather ludicrous in ways...

and so He set out,

to whoo her heart away...

On the first day of His hearts' unwinding,

He sent her forty-two thousand partriges and doves...

hoping that she would see that their love could have wings,

All she did was release the birds to the sky...

saying not a word but appearing to cry,

distressed that He had caused her grief...

He sent to her the heart of the moon and its' key,

Hoping that she would always be lit by light...

Fear instead washed over her face,

and on a lonely night...

His hearts' true gave the moons' heart back to the sky: and the key,

 

In growing frustration He went to look...

in the book of Incants and Ancestory took,

He read the words...

of an age-old spell,

not once uttered in twenty thousand years well...

 

'To create a love where none seemed to be,

to turn back the seas and wish for thee...

let thy heart always be mine,

I the cupid...

do commit the hallowed crime,

in return for my heart and the soul within mine...

for all of Time.'

 

Yet to His horror...

the next day that came,

his lady of the well was nowhere to be seen...

not a brief flash of her marvelous hair,

or a glint of her cool blue eyes...

from underneath their,

Instead a stone statue...

sat in her place,

and when He ventured out -

seeking comfort from others -

they could not see his face...

 

 

And so the story goes that he was forced to bear love,

the desire that denied Valentino his one true love...

and give instead to the world,

a many layered love...

Cursed He is to roam,

to see hearts entwined mysteriously...

and know that he is the cause,

but not once again could it ever be he.

 

So you see dear friends, I think that there are three facts to consider here.

The first, is that it is 1.30 in the morning and I can not sleep, the second fact is that I worked a crazy day today, and so unfortunately could only post this Blog now... :] slightly after Valentines day itself hehe.

The third fact is that I think stories need a bit of tragedy and yes, even a bit of melodrama and pain. But the good, always the good. I guess, there isn't so much a happy ending to my little story, and I'll leave it to you to decide on it...it's just that I always thought that...wow, it would kinda suck to be cupid and see everyone falling in love but you...that perhaps he can't, or isn't allowed.

 

Woo-woh.

 

 

      A million bowls of spaghetti, moon-lit nights, names traced in trees and running in the rain together...

       Happy Valentines day...for all you beautiful late-to-arrive and wandering dreamers out there,

 

  Much Love,

  Miss CLScarlett xx

 

   PS. If you don't have a Valentines tonight...I shall be yours. Sending you hugs and wishes across the stars...

 

                                                                                          

 





 

 



 



Taking Advice from the Blue Crow - a shield in arms good fellow, a shield in arms...

 

 



 

 A sensation of light,

black fur hovering over your stomach in the coldest nights,

old fads and yowies,

doors opening within,

the way a night could expand beyond lines and proper things,

the Writing DreamTime,

times when we were so cold that not a breath of fire existed,

lonely trails,

and whales,

searching for hidden things amongst the tree roots,

shifting shapes and shadows,

or the cascade glow-warmth,

Of a different kind,

a dragon kind,

Either it was warm enough for magic and faeries to exist -

daemons too -

or freezing enough that it created a beauty around you and others,

muddy earth pounded by rain,

squeezing between your toes,

hair saturated,

skin cold-blown,

eyes open wider and wide and wider,

at the swirling greys high above,

we forget,

we reminisce,

we move on,

though time and fate does not forget us,

we are lead by the guiding thread,

and I can feel them,

the forces and creatures at work around my cells and path,

and the paths of others,

chattering,

and consoling,

and arranging.

 

 

My dear good friends,

I do greet you...

to a merry old bunch of hollar-ballooo,

we sit to the right,

we sit to the left,

but please do not escape your quest...

I welcome you in to the FilmTheEatre of Olde,

you shall glimpse many things between its walls...

but perhaps more than anything,

you shall learn to stand tall...

Many theatres I have known for a time,

when I was very young I'd dance in a feast...

that would occur over the year,

and create music in the air...

an open-sky theatre you might call it as we say,

a night-air theatre to chase the blues away...

another I happenstance's across well deep below the ocean,

Its' curtains swayed to an un-felt breeze,

while the emptiness inside -

the power also-

was tangible in taste and memory too,

then another I did find...

in my Writing DreamTime,

a Theatre of ages past...

that I had dreamt of too,

long ago...

 

 

A hallway of souls,

perhaps it was...

but more than that it was the Red Mirror Room,

Glance into its mirrors...

to reveal your true face,

and admire the velvet red curtains...

that hide them from clean sight,

a small empty place it is by fact...

but a theatre it is so,

and I urge everyone to go...

But nevertheless how it happens,

you are in a theatre of your own...

quite a charming,

albeit frightful place...

where the judges love to break you down and see you shine,

we are toys for their strings...

but we dance so beautifully,

and in the end there are rewards waiting for thee...

Come to our club,

come to our banquet...

and perhaps we shall lead you the right way,

but then again maybe...

you are sold to the Sinister Meeting Room,

and have answered the call before...

and so cannot enter,

the Film TheEatre...

but hasten now not,

there is still some time...

and all that is left,

is to wiggle free of that chain...

jump over to our side,

there really is no difference...

in the end we're just the other face of the same coin,

between our darkness and their light.

 

Lately, you know...

I've bought my own electrical bike,

she is a beauty...

who I have named Jaqueline,

sometimes I become scared that her name will become Betsy...

sometimes she seems to want to be called Betsy,

but Jaqueline is her name...

But driving her from work and back everyday,

is like a mind-numbing experience...

that shakes and rattles away all my deep dark thoughts,

to allow me some relief...

But...

times a-waisten, times a' cookin,

 

and the day is nearly done.

 

We shall stand with the crows -

who watch -

and they shall caw to us.

 

 

Much Love,

Miss CLScarlett xx

The Discontinued thought-process of the Turtoise and the Elk-Fairy....oh mee oh myyyyyy

 

 



 

I give myself to the trees...

for they speak towith me,

I give myself to the wind...

because it blows a familiar note through me -

because I become stretched within,

I give myself to the waters, coral, springs and tide...

whose sign spins my core -

a siren song to guide me home,

I give myself to the night hour...

that softly whispers to me -

peering beneath the dark hues of laze,

I give myself to the afternoon glow...

that fills me with sunshine fire,

and I give myself to you...

dear reader, dear new, dear you.

 

'Dragons are coming Mr. Watson...

and there ain't notin' you can do about it.'

 

 

 

     It's odd...the way it is in the world at the moment. On the one hand we have been met recently by the seemingly-imagined chaos before the beginning of 2013. Not just the doom and gloom predictions but the money tremor that ran through the world. Before I put you into a boredom coma yet, at all the same-old, once-was, now-isn't, I wanted to say one last bit.

 

       Quite suddenly, everything - all the worry and fear that the economy will go into a cliff-dive - it's all tapered off. Makes me feel like we're in the eye of the storm. The quiet place, where things have seemed to go back to normal and that the BIG BAD December 26th had come and gone. We are safe....

But are we, are we...are we...hehe

 

My only advice is to buy silver and gold:

buy it by the bucket if you can.

:]

 

I happened to experience three peculiar things over the last three or so days:

The first was that finally, at my job as pastry cook for Seaworld resort, it has been so quiet that I have been able to make some of the cakes that I created on my island: my last job. It was as though I'd been transported back, and I even felt the way I did back then. I was so incredibly at peace again and it wasn't all listless. It's like the cakes are a crucial part to me...a pretty odd thing I know.

The second thing was that...I have discovered and bought an electric bike by the name of Jaqueline ( or if the bike seems more male one day, I shall call him Jack) which rides so smooth and lovedly. It is a sort of freedom and I can drive as long as the battery stays charged lol.

The third was that I discovered three precious and curious objects to me:

a starfish, a voodoosortaHindu metal-thing shaped to look like a woman and a silver-like medallion that is rumoured to grant me what I would wish for. 

 

Bobby knew things in that moment, without knowing how he knew them, or why.

He knew drums were the oldest instrument. Older than guitars, older than singing. Older than language. He knew drums could be made of sticks, that they could be made of bones. He knew they held a need for passion. A hunger for violence. In that moment he knew drums were as old as fire. That they were the sounds of battle, anger, war. That the sound of a drum was a collection of hits, knocks and punches.

He knew this drum wasn't just a drum. He could feel it.

The snare was pulling at Bobby, tugging his blood towards the lane, where hidden things grew with his sudden belief in hidden things.

 

Pg 13 of Hot Nights. Cool Dragons. Matt Zurbo.

 

         Maybe we really are just little rag toys for fate or between two great forces or something else. But I did have a night thought last night, between a fold that opened in my sleeping mind. It was that we are soo connected. The earth moves throughout the solar system in a complex pattern that is determined by the stars, the other planets and the sun and who-knows-what-else. The moon pulls at and rages the tides, and we are all made up of the same particles and basic atoms, and we ourselves are made up of so much water. We are pulsing energy and ideas and convictions and possibility. It made me wonder if the fact that we're made up of so much water, would mean that the moon can move us, or that everything that shifts...shifts with us.

Or vice verse.

 

 

I guess I'm not sure what I'm getting at, but mainly I had this image of the earth being the wrong way up and a woman still connected to the planet just by her hands. I also dreamt a lot of cats, and kittens. Most of my dreams are just traces of dreams now...

 

Snow my winter away...

we come trekking through long paths,

to escape what we left...

and see the sun rise,

we left where we met...

the fields and beds,

to travel and travel...

see a land reveal something to us,

well met we are...

we are taken far,

away from the smoke...

over valleys and inlets and streams,

we dream a dream...

the city of Dwarka,

calls to me more and more...

maybe a time hence,

or perhaps another minute has passed...

she shall open her doorway to me,

and I shall step through...

to the city by the sea,

waiting for us ten-thousand years.

 

 

   I have also been thinking, that I want my own crest - I mean, the idea of family crests has always intrigued me - and I thought maybe I could create something that related to my pseudo name: Miss CLScarlett and was also a symbol that maybe someone out there reading this now could recognise and remember.

   Why? You ask?

   For the revolution maaan, the revolution. When things go belly up I plan to get revolutioning!

 

That....among, other things. :]

 

  I won't bother you any longer. Hope your February is shaping up marvellously...and that if not, you know that eventually, a light will appear on the horizon.

 

   Much Love,

 

   Miss CLScarlett xx 

 

The Galaxy that Existed inside the mind of Two Rabbits...

 



 

A smallest tale...

on a hill we cry,

to the moon and stars.

I once had a dream...

of two rabbits perched on a mountain-edge,

beneath the milky way...

they whispered to each other,

stories of countries we had forgotten...

in Time,

These two debated the mysteries of the world...

why can't we make new what is now old?

Why is it that the grass grows even when it is burnt?

Why is it that we hear noises in the sky...

or why is it,

that the wind blows?

Everything under earth and above has purpose of a sort....

So tell me rabbit-friend,

what is the purpose of the wind?

 

We travel through wayward moments...

and absent thoughts,

to reach one of the seasides of Dwarka...

  

 

Where we shall sit and discuss,

with the jest-cat that dwells there...

the nature of these things past,

His name is Whip...

a wiry thing,

who was written about in song...

and cursed to live here,

You may recall...

his notes,

 

I lost my wings across the sea,

now true love canst rescue me...

doomed to walk the sands for time,

many a pawprint pave the twine...

come and love me lest you dare,

or else the seas will be my share...

 

We two wabbits sat and talked,

with dearest Whip for a length of dawn...

he descried the cloudy morning sky,

to discover what answers lay up high...

'Oh dear two friends,'

he began at once...

'I have gravest news,

concerning your querie...

the wind does not give up its secrets easily,

and this one in particular...

is a most hallowed remnant,

But this the wind has chosen to tell...

to you two rabbits now,

Why the wind blows is like asking why bread rises...

or why people die,

or stars fall...

perhaps we can speculate,

for the stars are another matter...

that an answer would lie there,

if only these elements would unveil their glamour...'

 

 

In respute of this we two carried on,

diving into the depths of the ocean...

most forlorn,

with our unanswered queries...

and moody tears,

that by the Sea of Dwarka...

we could not reveal,

Presently we came across a cave amongst the rocks...

and the shells,

and the coral down there...

holding our rabbity breath,

so that we would not burst...

we swam and swam up,

to discover what was in there...

a cave that opened,

onto a gloomy piece of rock...

a small pocket of air,

at the depths of the sea...

and there we saw a creature,

who we knew knew the truth...

so to it we went to ask,

 

 

It sat there silently for a while,

tilting its' head...

and by and by,

it began to murmur old words...

for the creature was many centuries old,

hewn of wood...

and years-drifted-by soot,

Its' thoughts hosted planets...

and its' eyes had captured a part of the moon,

an in-between thought process...

that had barely room to move,

we asked of it our question...

wary of its rows of teeth,

and with a barely-there smile...

it responded with this,

'Why the wind blows...

nobody really knows,

but if you're looking for an answer...

may I suggest this instead,

the answer is because it wants to...

and cares not for your or my disbelief.

Disbelieve in the sun,

disbelieve in the stars...

disbelieve in tiny molecules that fight to survive,

because they don't really mind...

one way or another,

they'll still continue their business...

up there in the ether.'

 

 

We left hastily so,

and travelled back the way we came...

stopping to tell Whip,

then continuing on to our hillside...

the stars were still out,

and we felt a peace inside us...

as we thought and said,

perhaps it was best for us not to know...

but now we do,

and us two wabbits are the smartest wabbits in the world. 

 

 

 

  Just a tale, about two curious rabbits I thought of. Things go on, don't they? I always thought that it was a marvelous idea to gather together as many cider bottles as I could (ahm, the ones left from my various hours of drinking), and then filling them with messages and lovely things and throwing them out into the sea. That someone I don't know could one day find one and be made happy because of it...it would mean that I've found a way to reach out and affect the world in a small way.

   As to if I'll get up the will to do it...and escape the people who just might think I'm polluting the oceans, ahm...I may one day. These are just some of the ideas floating around my head lately.

 

 

   Much Love and Sea-Dreams,

 

   Miss CLScarlett xx