This is what goes on in my mind.
With school starting and other drama occurring, time will be of the essence and I have little to spare on the computer. Little bits of poetry, dreams, short stories, thoughts, and wonders will be posted here. Please note that most of this will at first be not edited, but in due time, it will be.
Hopefully, I will be able to make a post in this every night or so, before I start my posting rounds. If that doesn't happen, it will probably be once a week, depending on how busy I am. I do request that if you want to make a comment on one of my entries, that you take it up with me in a visitor message or a private message.
But its not always pondered as it is on paper.
Last edited by Omlyt; 08-27-2012 at 01:05 AM.
Three days in and I'm already broken.
Geometry's going to be the end of me and World Geography is going to be my best subject. Why is it so switched? So weird. Last year, I was good in algebra and then everything got to a college level.
Is this what I get for joining a high school that does only college level work? What was I expecting? The same easy middle school courses that were supposed to be hard for an 8th grader? Probably.
I'm obviously going to be doing some real work now. Using my brain and such. Staying up until odd times into the night to finish homework and other projects, only to wake up at 5:30 in the morning and pretend to be somewhat actually human.
Edgad.
What the hell did I get myself into?
Dare I say it, but the situation has gotten better
Cold eyes and wondering voices live on no more
In the hallways
In the classrooms
Everyone is kind and sweet
People are warming up to each other
We're a group
We're a family
My best friend is my sister, but not my biological or lawfully related to me at all
My biological sister is dating my best friend's brother
And I'm dating a girl
People don't care. They simply smile and nod.
I'm fine here.
And if I didn't have a motivation to leave the place after 4 years, I'd want to stay forever.
I don't remember
But it has been a while
My words have been stunted by the very idea of
work
school
and other things that take up time
I've grown tired
But stronger
I've grown older
Yet my state of mind remains the same
Love is still there
Gesturing me on with its warm arms
Asking me to go on with a smile
And with my lips curved up in that giddy grin
I go on as requested
The gentle caress of a cheek I have known so well
The taste of her lips, the feel of her skin- burned into memory
Her enchanting eyes, the way they catch their beholder,
Shining mysteriously with a glint of mischievous kindness
A soft smile placed upon those of her lips,
The way they curl upwards in that gentle, patient simper
That knowing expression, that while makes her seem wise
Also gives her that air of white innocence
From the dark roots of her hair to the tips of her eyelashes
To see that face that I know so well when I close my eyes
And to open them to find her not there…
Last edited by Omlyt; 12-31-2012 at 07:24 PM.
That moment
That very moment when you cry
Tears streaming down your face
The jeers of others causing your sadness
You thought you had the confidence
You thought you had the stride
The movement that you could easily brush them off
But you were wrong, sweetheart
Wrong when it came to "nothing"
To "rude"
Even when you know you're neither of those things
Even though you have neither of those traits
Even though you shed your tears in front of someone you respect
Pick yourself up
Dust yourself off
You have the whole world in front of you
All you have to do is clean yourself up
And grab the reigns and
Not listen to those who negate you
Now, listen up sweetheart
You're fine
You're me
Last edited by Omlyt; 12-31-2012 at 07:23 PM.
I've called myself rude
On accident
Not on purpose
I looked at what I did
From another's eyes
Saw what I did...
The way I went about
The things I did
Was not the best way
But it was a way
To get something done
And look where we've ended up
I'm happier where I'm at
Or at least I think
Troubles are gone
But again
At least I think.
Last edited by Omlyt; 12-31-2012 at 07:23 PM.
Allow me to give you a bit of a back story on this.
In August of this year, my girlfriend, her grandmother, her mom and I all went to a convention in an unfamiliar place. We went though the wrong exit that we were supposed to go though to get to the hotel we were staying at and pretty much got lost in a beautiful neighborhood of antique, vacant houses. We had to stop every once in a while as a break for my girlfriend’s grandmother, because she had shattered her heel a while back. While on one of these breaks, I looked though the window of one of these houses, and I could see all the way back into the house, and the back door was open, and I could see all the way back to the fence. There was nothing in the house, and I simply started to imagine it filled with things.
-
We opened the back door and slipped in through. I went out first and looked around. A crowd of rich people were lounging about in their floating chairs, and talking among themselves as a small band was playing music in the corner. Usually, it was us who were playing the music, but the mistress was kind enough to allow us to take a break. We all settled in the corner as a bland group of young girls, and just swayed to the music.
Little did we know that there was a man climbing in though my bedroom window. Of course, not just anyone could do that, but this man was managing climbing up to the second story and sonicing the lock of the window open. He pulled it open and just plopped down onto my rug. Immediately, he shot up to his feet, looking around to see if anyone heard him. There was a man down the hallway, standing guard with a gun that seemed to be taller than himself. He had his back to the man who came in through my window- a perfect time to attack.
You see, this man was usually not one for violence or anything of the sort. He preferred to do things without bloodshed or weapons, but what he was rescuing were the most precious things to him. He grabbed the knife that I kept in my nightstand and then walked down the hallway silently before stabbing the man in the back of the head. While not the most clean way, it was a way to attempt to get the man to be able to die without causing a scene. It didn’t work though. The victim still made a noise loud enough to get the attention of those twenty or so men downstairs.
“No.” he sighed, running a hand through his matted hair. He turned around quickly as stomping came from the stairs, and ran back towards my room before diving out the window once more.
All the men were up in my room, looking around for something, suspecting me for the death. I had always been the one to be suspicious about. I had always been the one to fight back. Not to say that my best friend wasn’t a biter, but I was the most violent out of us.
The man whom jumped out of my window was now entering through the front door, going into the living room with the step of a confident man, ready to get what he’s always wanted. Someone came up from behind, wrapping a hand with a piece of odd smelling fabric over his mouth, causing him to fall unconscious.
I closed the comic book I had brought outside with me. It was titled “L Madaline” and was actually the comic book version of what was going on inside of the house, only no one in the backyard realized it. I picked up the next book, called “La Madaline” and started to read.
The comic book was about my grandparent’s house. It started off with a group of small, index finger tall people trying to put on a play. There were on the staircase, doing flips and trying desperately to get my attention, only I didn’t care. I was trying to get upstairs. I looked over as I was unlocking the door to the top floor, to the 40 foot tall bookshelf we had that extended up from the floor of the wall beside the spiraling staircase. My grandfather’s collection was at the very top, with the old books I’ve seen in his office from the house before.
We had just moved into a bigger house.
The door wouldn’t open, no matter what key I tried to use, so I simply went back down the staircase and peeked into the living room, where I could see many boxes of porcelain dolls. Their eyes stared blankly back at me, freaking me out some. I hadn’t minded them too much when we lived in the old house, but now it bothered me to death. I went back up the stairs and sat at the top, holding my body close to itself.
I picked up the next book for “L Madaline” and started to read.
“Haunting, chanting, go to sleep…” The men from before were starting to chant. Jake, or Doctor Jake (the man who came in through my window) was in the middle of an inflateable bed thing. It was purple and as long as he was tall, and was as wide as he was wide. Jake woke up and started to sit up, only it didn’t work. He was held to the bad. The more the men chanted around him, the more the room started to feel dizzy, and he closed his eyes, and fell asleep. As he drifted off to sleep, the bed started to rise around him, extending like a tentacle monster, or a glob, and encompassing his being.
The next time he awoke, the three of us were standing around him with our arms crossed, studying him. His eyes shot open and he sat up in a flash, looking around him frantically while gasping for air. His arms flailed about before he came to a sudden stop, analyzing our faces. He came to a stop on my face and a bright smile appeared on his face.
“I’m to recue you all.” He said a laugh in his voice. As he started to stand up, there was a knock on the back door and a sound that the three of us knew very well. It was a call to send us away. We all began to shake before we began to cower in fear and then we ran away.
The mistress came in through the back door, and went to the couch. She wore a long white feathered boa that wrapped around her neck and went all the way down onto the floor, and a long white dress that seemed to stick to her skin and float around her at the same time. It was as if she stood in water. Her hair was something else. When you first looked at it, it was black, curly and huge. The next moment, it was long and white and straight. The next moment it was short and blue. Every time you blinked, looked away or even changed your train of thought, it changed.
“Who are you?” Jake asked, his voice deep and grave, sitting down on the floor with his arms and legs crossed. He had a pouty look on his face, like a child.
The woman started to laugh. A booming chuckle that filled the air.
The lights went out.
And then came back on.
The woman was gone, but the twenty men from before were. Jake, without a second thought, jumped out the window. He looked up from his bloody fingers and then up at the mistress, who held out a piece of glass. He looked at the piece of glass and took it, studying it for a moment. When he looked back up, the woman was gone, and the men inside were gone too. He looked back at the piece of square glass, and broke it.
All the men were back inside, aiming their guns at him through the window.
And I woke up as the fire was released onto the man.
Last edited by Omlyt; 12-31-2012 at 07:23 PM.
A journal
To some
A collection of pointless thoughts
Statements unmade throughout the day
My ideas
What I've wanted to say to you
What you've wanted to say to me
Questions
Unguarded
Not hidden
In plain sight with
almost no hesitation
I will hand this
collection of...
pointless?
No.
Just thoughts
questionsto you.
ideas
possibilities and dreams
Keeper of my heart and mind.
Last edited by Omlyt; 12-31-2012 at 07:21 PM.
Everything fades from white to this girl. She has blue eyes, glasses, light brown hair and the stature of a well endowed woman. She stood only five feet and inches tall, but nonetheless, I could tell that she had a spirit in her that was kind and sometimes felt small. I understood this feeling.
This girl stood in the middle of a mall’s food court. I don’t know the mall, but it was a place my own mind had made up. She reached her palm up towards the ceiling and closed her eyes. At this point in time, I had gotten a full view of her. She wore a dark brown vest dark jeans and a black dress shirt. Her shoes? Bright yellow Converse. A beam of red light shone from the palm that was lifted to the sky. It was a brief moment, but she was turned into this little dark haired Chihuahua with red eyes.
Everything spun back to me, a mirror of her (not in Chihuahua form), without the blue eyes or Converse. I wore a pair of black flats and had changing hazel eyes. I stared at the little dog, which was foaming at the mouth and threatening to attack. I felt the need to go after it, to get it before it got someone that it could cause actual danger to.
It sent a dangerous warning bark at me before ducking under tables and people’s feet, and I went on after it, changing into some kind of bird that went unnoticed among the people in the food court. When I found it, I had cornered it. People walked behind us, blind to what I was going to do next.
“I’m going to kill you, you know?” I murmured, tilting my head this way and that. It barked again, its fear not there. Someone, a stranger… A man ran between us, breathing heavily. He looked up at me with his bright blue eyes, but not only did his eyes stare back at me, but the many piercings did as well. There were at least five in his eyebrow, three in his nose, one in the dip between his nose and lips. I didn’t even bother counting the ones in his ears, or along his bottom lip. I knew him, but he didn’t know me. At least not in this form.
“Get away from it.” He whispered his eyes wide. The poor human was unknowing, but quite obviously in awe of all that I was. I smiled some at this thought and shook my head.
“I can’t. If I let it go, or even move from where it is at, you’ll die.” My voice had grown small rather quickly; he still didn’t understand the severity of the situation. I needed him.
“Wha-what?” he froze for a moment and kept his eyes locked with mine.
“If you stay just like that…” I raised my hand, a blue collection of light around it. He kept his eyes locked with mine even still. I had to close mine to focus. “Don’t move your gaze from my lips. Stay staring at those as I do this. When I tell you to close your eyes, do so.”
“Don’t listen to her.” A snake-like voice hissed. It was the Chihuahua.
“Close your eyes, Elex.” I ordered. I could still feel his eyes on me. “Close them now.” And then he closed them.
I fired the ball from my hands and then something screamed. The Chihuahua was dead. Evil was gone. Finally.
The scene switched to something else. I was now a waitress at a small café attached to the mall with the food court. I was in the back area though, near the Macy’s and… A Nickelodeon office. I was serving the man from before, only he was missing his piercings and was wearing a suit. The only piercing left was the one in the dip of his lip. I was having a kind conversation with him, until the scene suddenly changes once again.
He was wearing a pair of ripped up jeans with holes in the knees. A dark grey and black striped short sleeved shirt with a light blue jacket on top of it all. He had all of his piercings in and his hair was slicked back. He didn’t seem like the business man he really was.
“You know, you should go to the party. It will be good for your reputation.” He said, his voice edging on snapping. I turned to him, the heel of my flat digging into the concrete of the sidewalk. I could feel the expression of my face of utter discomfort. I hated the parties. It was just too many people in one place, at once.
I wore a summer dress that was white and came down to my knees. It had a beautiful lacy pattern that tickled my skin. He seemed to have a blush to him as I walked towards him, my eyes ablaze with a passion. I really didn’t want to go to that party.
“I will not go. You know I am an introvert.” I said, my voice edging on dark. He rose an eyebrow. I knew this look. He wasn’t listening to me.
“You will. It will be good for the company!”
“I don’t care about the company, Elex. You know this. The previous owner just thought that I wanted the position.” I said, obviously exasperated. I put my hands on his shoulders and stared into his eyes.
He looked away. “You should go though…” he murmured. I could feel his heartbeat in his shoulders.
“Listen to me. Please? I’ve read ten articles on social interaction with introverts involved. Three of them were absolutely weird, but the other seven made sense. I am allowed a break, Elex, between interactions.”
“Okay. Fine…” he looked as if he was going to continue, but two nosey teenage boys were leaning out of the café door, grins on their faces. He noticed them before I did.
“Off with you! Go, go!” I took my hands off of Elex’s shoulders and started a shooing motion with my wrists. The laughed and laughed as they went back in, and I looked back at the man.
“Well, I have to go back to the office, Lyra.” (My name was Lyra in this, I do not know why.) He reached over and then hesitated, his fingers just shy of my cheek. Being the oblivious self that I was in my dream, I simply smiled and offered a curtsy before going back into the café.
My view stayed outside with Elex, who had this look of confusion on his face. I knew that expression myself, for it was one that was a confusion for love.
The scene changed. I was with a friend, no, my girlfriend. She was smiling at me, and holding my hand. We were walking through the Macy’s store to get the Nickelodeon offices, on the top floor. For some reason, we were walking towards the stairs, instead of the escalator. We passed by racks and racks of clothing before ending up at the door to the stairs. I swung opened the door and we were greeted with wind. And no stairs.
“Oh.” She whistled and then she looked over at me. “Escalator it is, then.” I nodded and shut the door.
Again, the scene changed. We were climbing up the spiraling stairs of the offices. We were chasing each other and then we got to the very top. Elex was talking to a headset at his desk, working on what seemed about a million things at once.
He smiled at us, wanly, and for only a moment before going back to his conversation. He was speaking in a foreign language, one that I recognized as Japanese. He watched me from the corner of his eye, as if he thought that I couldn’t see him.
“What a lovely young man.” She spoke in a voice that was older than she was. I smiled and nodded.
“Yeah. He told us he had things for us, though.” I said quietly.
Something beeped in my book. I didn’t realize that I was carrying a copy of “Percy Jackson and the Olympians and the Last Olympians”, and it was ever changing like a computer. Each page seemed to writher with words.
“Don’t read it yet…” Elex said after a moment. I was just about to read the book, but he stood and came around the desk, taking off his head piece. “Read it when I am finished with it.” He tapped a piece that was still attached to his ear. He was uploading it from his mind. I nodded.
“Oh! Tryston, I’ve something for you. Lyra had said that you’d like this kind of thing.” He opened his closed hand and handed her a key to one of the lockers in another room. She obviously knew where it was and then squealed before running towards the room, leaving me with Elex.
“I’m done with it now.” He said after a moment. He looked over at me and then went back over to his desk.
I opened the book to find a poem.
One that made me cry…
One that I’ll never see again or remember.
It spoke of the sky, the wind, fire and gold. It talked about my heart, my eyes and the oddness about me and love.
Something that I couldn’t feel back for him.
The ending line was, “And nothing more shall stop the quiet raging that is of my heart, and the love that I hold for you.” And everything went black… And I woke.
Last edited by Omlyt; 12-31-2012 at 07:31 PM. Reason: Added an important detail
Numbers jumble themselves up in such a careful way that make me seem insane
As well as the pounding stress that whips at my back, crying at me to go on, to break down and then pick myself up again, uselessly
I am steadily headed down a dangerous path that circles on itself over and over again
I know I'm not right
I know I'm not wrong
I know that those numbers, those shadows, those voices, the stress, the school, who I pretend to be
Define who I am
Sometimes I wish that I didn't have to conform to society's standards.
I believe in something that most do not
Some that believe what I believe in as a trend, as a way to look cool
When something else "cool" comes up, they adopt it
"Oh! I have a learning disability!"
"Oh! I see things in the shadows!"
"Oh! I hear voices, and they don't like you!"
All things that they giggle and laugh about
All things that they have no right to stop and mock
But who am I to say such a thing?
I have never before let such a thing stop me.
Stress, my mental functions?
They've only been a way to motivate me
To overcome them
To find a way over them that will not let me feel the terrible wall of failure
But I've hit it hard this time.
And it has crippled me.
Goodbye, self confidence
Goodbye, my need to be friends with everyone
Goodbye, my want, my need to lead, to teach
Goodbye, my desire to go on
But here I am everyday, pretending to do all the the things that I am not anymore
Slowly becoming the shell that I've never wanted to be
But I have inspiration
To get over that wall at least
I have a desire to just get over myself and the big ego that has replaced that wall of failure
To become the human that I know
Desperately HOPE
That I am.
But not for myself.
I see them. I don't if the little girl in the white dress knows that I can see her though.
Just moments ago, I can see her in my periphial vision, and she's standing right in front of my door, in front of my laundry basket. She just stands there next to the man with the stetson, who has been in front of my doorway for the past year. I'm used to him. The little girl is new, however.
Her eyes look at me, not maliciously. They seem to have a longing look in them. What do I have that she wants? Is it even me? Does it have to do with me? Who knows? I've tried to answer this question a couple of months ago and they got angry. They started to scare me, to get me to stop my questioning.
But the problem is that I am a questioner by heart. I NEED an answer and these things are repressing my need to get the answers.
And my greatest fear is that I would be able to communicate with these things. That they'll have voices themselves and that I will have officially gone off the cliff of sanity. I'm hanging there now, just because I can see them, and know that they might very well be real.
That sinking feeling that occurs
When you have realized that the people you surround yourself with
Are a bunch of thoughtless zombies
And want nothing to do with real work
Real motivation or
Real hope
All the thoughtless zombies want are more zombies
To make them feel better about themselves
Whereas I
Just want an intelligent conversation
And reasoning and real things
No nonsense
While I have found the rare and few
They are but rare and few and far away
And not where I want them when I want to
Speak
To spare my sanity
I hide away from those zombies I associate myself with
And do something real
That makes sense
To be a thoughtful zombie
Last edited by Omlyt; 06-10-2013 at 02:22 AM.
A hop
A skip
A jump
A spin
The whole world like a whirlwind as I move
Graceful movements that aren't my own, but that of comfort that I can call home
I forget who I am
And know only the music, the urges to sway
to hop
to skip
to jump
to spin
To feel the heated air against my skin and someone else's eyes upon the motions and emotions
As I move with the need to portray a story
One of a girl
that needed a passion and a reason to move
One of a girl
that needed to lift her spirits and not over-think the easy things in life
One of a girl
that needed a reason to dance
Last edited by Omlyt; 04-16-2013 at 11:13 PM.