The Flip-Side of the Ocean and the Nine-Billion mile pathway to...........................THERE.

 

 

 

'Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its' goal;

Dust though art, to dust returnest,

Was not spoken of the soul.'

 

[Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - what a name]

 

Ware, ware!

Doctor Watson I fear we are far from the maps...

far from the maps indeed,

we Tip over the edge...

and to where we fall we do not know.

 

There are leviathans in our midst...

they take the shape of what we least expect,

the subtle shifting in the side-by shadows...

the white noise in your head,

they are the incredible word you never expected from a friend...

and the whisper in your ears,

telling you to press harder...

press harder on the pedal,

let yourself fly crazily along...

indeed wouldn't it be incredible to see the sky upside-down?

 

Step through into dusk...

shooting stars and a seat for me,

and a seat for you...

 

We were swept up by the waves,

taken captive by the sea...

we flew to Mercury,

and had a cup of tea...

we burrowed our way into the tunnel's of the earth,

and nestled between its skin and heart...

we saw the blind creatures crawl up from beneath,

and we heard their shrieks...

felt their cold iron breath,

we dug so deep until the light it blinded...

and things swam out from the hidden brilliance,

chortling in an array of sounds...

the beginnings of sorrow and the eve of fury.

 

The wind it whispered to me last night...

there are things you need to know,

secrets we kept well to give...

we give to you as this,

Listen...

hear behind our wail,

the smallest of tiny drums...

beating out eternally through the midnight hours,

we tug and jostle...

and prance upon the highest point,

to scream what could be what was what is...

and it is this,

They are coming...

for your deeds and words and heart,

a plague of soul-eaters...

a darkness that grows with the ticking of time,

with the years that crumble away...

from you,

 

 

we don't speak its' name aloud...

yet we hear it in our bones,

resounding out an echo of dust...

what did happen to those worlds?

 

The planets they spin...

they whirl,

they burn...

yet it is the fractures of forgotten societies,

 that lace those other worlds...

tombs of memory,

spinning and spinning for eternity...

mayhaps the stars will throw themselves from the skyy tonight,

perhaps they will reveal the most beautiful of voices...

mayhaps the wind is the sweetest of caresses,

who could ever love a faceless creature such as the breeze though...

and yet what other being dances?

To know of the wind is to know of love...

of frightful, ferocious heart,

 

My dear I have become certain...

that it is not the sort of love I desire,

to be clung to and wound up amongst invisible blankets...

no,

I would rather not be someones whole world,

give to me the adoration of the tornado...

the whip and club of the wind and rain,

the scream of the lightning in my ears beneath tin...

and the violence of the storm,

the cold distance of the moon...

that forever gazes down,

and the sea which breaks apart what we are and promises nothing...

these I have bound myself to in ways not spoken,

and I realised that that was what I wanted...

forget the flimsy love of those we know,

and take instead the eternal...

 

I sat in the dark,

sometime past midnight last night...

and it came to me two choices,

a pale slender hand reaching out against the regular path of life...

to me,

to follow your soul...

to follow your heart,

the only choice you know...

is that you can't live one life alongside the other,

the dark and gloom and figures you birthed...

that live between your skull,

will slowly tear you apart if you choose an appropriate life...

and the loneliness burns away like acid if the heart we follow,

better to run...

better to scatter,

better to let your feet cut to ribbons...

and the earth to take,

we are creatures of our own demise...

bound between fates encircling hands.

 

Yet oh the colour...

we have never before seen such a colour,

of beyond beyond the beyond of us.

 

   Heyhey hello dear creature who has decided to read this...

      My nights are becoming so strange, but I fill them with writing and whatever other poisons I can find....to pass the long hours till morning, until it begins to feel like the dreams and sleep I catch are much the same as the time that I'm awake. Things blur...things change, and our minds deceive us. But oh how sweet the lies we feed ourselves...until we forget that they were half-truths and illusions altogether. Then the madness feeds and begins...and once you let it in, there's no back door, no way to kick out the darkness that has taken root.
   
    Why would it leave when it knows how addicted we are to its' gloom?

For better days and nights to all of you,

   Much Love...
Miss CLScarlett xx

 



The Bell that Whispered in the Night.......hey you, you forgot to fall out of Bed.

 

'When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold
When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood's run stale

I want to hide the truth
I want to shelter you
But with the beast inside
There's nowhere we can hide
No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide

Don't get too close
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide

When the curtain's call
Is the last of all
When the lights fade out
All the sinners crawl
So they dug your grave
And the masquerade
Will come calling out
At the mess you made

They say it's what you make
I say it's up to fate
It's woven in my soul
I need to let you go
Your eyes, they shine so bright
I want to save their light
I can't escape this now
Unless you show me how...'

 

[Parts of the song Demons, by Imagine Dragons]

 

A whisper by the street-side,

shadow eyes amongst the shadows...

the shudder of wings,

against a cobblestoned walkway...

the smallest of threads,

running through the mist...

a waving hand,

reaching across an abyss...

a silence that stretches with the tide,

a sudden swirling in a silent pool...

the smallest of fears in a tiny breathing fern,

we watch ourselves turn to dust...

knowing that we will live again and die again,

trying to make it right...

trying to make things different,

when we are destined to make the same mistakes...

wrought from blood,

wrought from our self...

that we deny,

a shade softer than the grey...

the briefest of outlines on a blank wall,

in the shape of a door...

memories chipping away,

beneath a billion miles of fractured wood...

discarded highrises,

and dead rooks...

we flee as our feet bleed,

from our shadows...

which we forgot belonged to us,

and from the candyman...

the candyman can,

the candyman cancan

the candyman can eat...

us,

while we run...

eating on the run,

 

Waves beat away patterns into the bones of the earth...

drum beatss creak out between the fractures they make,

and the old charriots and their horses awaken...

to prance and dance their way through the midnight of all towns,

as we try not to watch...

Grit and pebbles and chilled water grasping at bare ankles,

we watch our old skin be torn and swept away from us...

silted into dust and thin wool,

so that we can create something new out of what remains...

let it not be banished,

merely strengthened...

and straightened into something that can be accepted enough,

to be ignored...

and left alone,

deeds done...

words said,

burn baby burn...

scream and cry and festoon,

oh dear oh my our Scar's a witch...

oh har oh harharhar,

 

 

The tiniest of bubbles rising into the sky...

If the soul had wings,

well then perhaps we all would fly...

a slow movement amongst the leaves on a path,

a dry dusty whisper...

calling you forward,

you step into the dark beyond...

the light sparkling behind you,

and a sudden dropping in the blood of everything...

a breathing and familiar embrace,

of cold and black ice...

and rivers running dry,

we drink our own misery...

for it is to our taste,

we compare our misfortunes to see the deserving of the two...

while Sir fate sits there laughing,

as we tear ourselves to bits...

In the firmest of holds the ice grips and reaches,

crawling its way throughout and beyond...

blasting open the passageways of the mind,

it whips sense into the irrational...

and makes irrational sensibility and pride,

cold arms...

dark arms,

embrace me tonight...

fear not silent creature of bone and water,

sink into the cool deep...

and there'll be no more,

no more struggling or complaining or darting around...

just silence,

and the close-knit net we weave about and through you...

feel our ten-tonne weight pressing down,

surrounding...

don't be afraid of the cold,

once you stop fighting...

it becomes so very warm,

so very warm...

and sometimes the stars sway,

and  sometimes the stars grow more ferocious...

and sometimes the stars are more cold,

and it seems that our planet really is billions of lightyears away from everything...

we dream....

...

..

.

.

 

 

  Hi there...

    It's been a while, hasn't it? Do I sound morbid...? Well yes Scar, yes you do. No matter.

 

I finally recieved my critique back from the company I sent it to. It's marvelous, but I have a lot of work and a way to go to finish it, but as they say...RAWWWRrrrrrr I so don't care, I'm doing it anyway, harhar harharr... XD

   I may be a bit more absent though because of this but my dear Sirs and Madmadams...just think, in two years time, if my plan goes right...I may just start popping up in bookstores. Who indeed...whoo indeeeed, can tell?? :]

 

   Miss Scarlett has to step out for a while, as I'm losing my mind at the moment, so with all my love,

   I wish you a fabulously adventurous and thrilling winter.

 

And, a glass raised please to many more future Blogs and letters to you wonderful readers, I LOOOOOOVEeee you all.

 

    xx

 

 

 

Demons...Imagine Dragons........ROCKSthe socks off!

 

 

Or...

 

if this is way too depressing for you in a video,

listen to THIS one by Imagine Dragons...

 

RADIOACTIVE...dumdumdum

 





 

 



 

 

 



 

The Weaving of the Cats Feet and the tinieSt of Early-Winter Wishes...

 

I met a cat one starry night...

in a small village by the sea,

we were drunk and swaying at the early-night inn...

and then we travelled and scattered across roads to the bars of Ireland,

there we drank from teapots and soup dishes...

and snuck smokes in the alley back that wayy,

like haunted feline we entranced and danced...

singing our blues away,

we headed South...

across country and bone,

seeking a new path to lead us from home...

for we were wild of spirit and shunned from the righteous,

and so we ran and laughed and fled to alone...

Heaven help us give us wings,

we spirit along to commit the deed...

We fled down alleyways,

we skittered across twine...

we were touched by moonlight and devoured by shadow and mire,

Scarlett...

would you race a storm?

Friend...

would you chase and embrace a storm?

 

 

we crept beneath hedges...

and down secret ways,

through torrential rain and soot...

abandoning our hearts in the puddles and drains,

eventually we came to the end of our strength...

at a place where ivory grew,

it clawed and strangled its' way up pale white walls...

and crippled the chimneys of homes and saloon,

there we sat in the sudden grey quiet...

by the side of a silent pool,

we gazed and stared into its' saphire depths...

and saw the setting moon reflected grinning back at us,

we cast our souls into the darkness of its' deep...

until we found that we were floating,

two creatures of forgotten lives...

we dove and sunk with the eddies,

we were swept up by the tide...

and squeezed of breath by hands of ice,

we were jostled and thrown and tossed to and fro...

until that water,

it vomited us up onto land...

we had been battered and re-made,

by the cold and the wet...

our minds hammered down,

and our souls deeply nest...

between the paths of us,

 

and out onto red dust...

we saw the hills,

heard them swayy...

and we knew that we had to run and fly awayy,

so upward we took...

on the wind and burning sand,

whipped up high and darting down the lows...

we raced the sandman,

the sky blue ever above us...

as we wove with our new wings,

until eventually we paused...

on the very top of a dune,

and gazed out far...

towards the new morning sun and there,

a sudden glow...

a brushing of gold,

moving and billowing high above the desert horizon...

it moves and shifts,

flaring larger...

dipping down from between the few clouds,

a Brilliance we saw...

of otherwordly light,

that screamed with laughter and wept with delight...

It sunk and reached down towards us,

vibrating and whispering...

a cloud of galaxies and suns,

grasped us and whistled us up and away...

we travelled again for aeons,

or what could have been mere seconds...

in the embrace of that Brilliance and splendor,

that darted around us...

until eventually it set us down,

as gently as a kiss...

onto the pale earth of Dwarka,

where we knew we would be safe...

we bounded to the city,

and heard tales amongst the eaves...

chatter in the markets and bays,

oh city of palaces...

the lost wanderers have come home to stayy.

 

 

 

 

   Hey there wanderers....

 

       Things are still spinning and colliding, and sometimes I know that if you pause, and if you lose focus, eventually the madness that you took to escape the worse madness has become the new prison and chain around your neck. Things creep up on you...and they won't always wait forever.

    But....there is always that hope, still curling somewhere beneath the murk.

Ah! I also wanted to relay a message from the Sinister Meeting Room....they, wish to thank the people that have been adding me on google lately, and all the people who still read this mumbo-jumbo rhymsical nonsense. We tip our hat to you good Sir and Madmadam.

 

     Much Love and Light [or something close to it]...

  Miss CLScarlett xx

 

     P.S. I've been glimpsing Sodom again....it seems he's decided that he missed me and has as such started to haunt me. Jolly good Mr. White n S....at least the company I keep now is humorous.