Life is just like this isn't it?

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 17:58:51 GMT

Ok, so i've never been that sappy kinda girl, you know the
one who cries when she's dumped and eats icecream with her
head under the covers screaming and shouting that it's not
fair. I'm more likely to take the offensise tack. Pick
yourself up dust yourself off and think fuck it, i'm guna go
and have fun. But what happens when the fun gets boring?
It's all very well being a party girl, but all party girls
settle down sooner or later and when your not feeling the
party anymore isn't it time to accept defeat and admit that
you're not ok?

But i don't do wearing my heart on my sleeve, so whats the
best course of action? How can i tell someone who used to
love me that i still love them? When i have no clue if they
still feel the same way.

Total distruction.

Thats what this is going to be.

Bollocks.

Then again what have i got to loose? We aren't really friends
we never see each other...

I guess the answer to that one is, well if it's the wrong
time to say anything i am totally fucked.

Brilliant.

I'm fucked.

This will be one big epic fail

Not that i'm a pesimist or anything...

S.

Random

Mon, 02 Feb 2009 14:26:12 GMT

Is indigo a real colour? Apparently some people don't see indigo. I always thought it was bluey purpley...well dark dark bluish...maybe i can't see it! :S

Haha saying "dark dark" always reminds me of the skeleton program. Opening was something about a dark dark house in a dark dark street. Don't remember what it was tho hmmmm

*goes googling*

"In a dark dark town there was a dark dark street
And in the dark dark street there was a dark dark house
In the dark dark house there were dark dark stair
Down the dark dark stairs was a dark dark cellar
And in the dark dark cellar some skeletons lived!"

Haha memories!

Bloggage!

Mon, 02 Feb 2009 14:13:23 GMT

"Boys speak in rhythm and girls in code"

Now that aint entirely true now is it? Boys can be just as criptic & often more so.
Personally i just tell it to you straight.
But i'm slightly unusual.

"Hang out with your mate? TKMaximus?"

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 17:32:37 GMT

New Doctor Who episode last night was FAB!

"Um, I'm Sparticus"
"And so am i!"

Hehe, well, it made me cuckle.

Just thought i'd post a couple of tennanty icons just because of his awesomeness! ^^

Sat, 12 Apr 2008 18:26:38 GMT

This is the start of a fic for a different POV fic i wrote.

Title: Thick Woolen Socks
Character:
Rating: G
Summary: Dumbledore acts as a guard and is stumbled on by an nighttime wanderer
Disclaimer: Rowling's fabulous characters do not belong to me. I'm just borrowing them for fun.

Albus Dumbledore was a practical man. If there was a problem, it would be dealt with efficiently, either on his orders or by him personally when the occasion specified.

So, late on Christmas night Albus found himself on an errand that he had made time for on his rather full schedule. He strode silently down the dark hallways of Hogwarts castle, unseen and unheard by all he passed, ghosts and portraits alike.

He hadn’t complained about the task at hand. It would be untruthful and foolish to say that he never complained about anything, but when the occasion arose it was rare, and tonight was not one of those times. This is a good line, but you are repeating yourself. You’ve said exactly the same thing in different words in two separate sentences

The fact that he was to spend three sleepless nights nights without sleep wasn’t appealing to him, but he had learned from years of experience (and he had certainly had many of those) that complaining was an option that never got anything done.

He reached a large oak door on the fourth floor and stopped. He ran one weathered hand along the door lintel muttering under his breath, then tapped the handle with his wand. There was a soft ‘click’ and the door swung silently open.

He left the door ajar, partly for his own amusement to watch the comings and goings of people and ghosts who should happen to pass the door but mainly because locked doors attracted unwanted suspicion. His eyes swept around the room. All was as it should be.

Albus walked across the room to the other side sparing only a brief glace for the ornate mirror with a gold frame that looked as if it belonged. Even in that fleeting look he still caught out of the corner of his eye a glimpse of vibrant auburn hair and the ghost of a familiar smile before he turned resolutely away, a pang of sadness crossed his heart, but he brushed the feeling unconsciously away. What is done is done.

He sat on one of the many desks cluttering the room, careful to position himself out of the mirrors direct line of sight, and settled himself down for what he anticipated to be a long wait until morning.

Humming a tune he had heard on the WWN earlier that day he let his thoughts wander. Presently, voices interrupted his musings. His senses sharpened immediately, however he stayed perfectly calm and still listening intently, waiting to turn a deaf ear to anything that he shouldn’t be overhearing. He knew of unorthodox meetings were bound to happen amongst the staff and amongst the students. He did not disapprove of eavesdropping as such, but he certainly knew when it was ill advised or inappropriate to listen.

“You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody’s been in the library—Restricted Section.” Ah, it was Filch. When the man actually slept was completely beyond Dumbledore, but nevertheless…

“The Restricted Section? Well, they can’t be far, we’ll catch them.” Dumbledore smiled, amused at the relish in his potions masters tone. Dumbledore chuckled softly. Severus, of all people should know that students sneaking around in the dark are elusive and resourceful and therefore unlikely to be caught. Part of him doubted very much that either Severus or Argus would catch any student who had the means of being discovered in the restricted section and escaped escaping undetected.

He could hear the firm footfall of Severus and Argus’s shuffling steps drawing closer. A slight movement in the corner of his eye made Albus turn to frown at the door. The already ajar door moved ever so slightly, as if a cat had just brushed it on the way into the room. It was most curious for there appeared to be nothing there. He frowned at the door.

Filch and Snape’s footsteps passed, Dumbledore continued to stare at the door. He seemed to sense rather than heard it; someone making their way across the room, towards the mirror. He waited. Was this, perhaps, Filches night time wanderer who had strolled (unwisely as it turned out) into the restricted section of the library? From across the room there came a gasp.

Well, though Albus with the mild feeling of relief, at least it was only a student, an invisible student none the less. He smiled to himself. He should have known really. He watched the mirror in silence. After a few moments he saw movement. The cloak slipped down to reveal, as he had expected the black haired head of Harry Potter. Shortly followed by shoulders, torso and his whole pyjama clad figure.

The bespectacled boy let the silver folds fall unchecked to the floor his gaze so intently fixed on the mirror he seemed not to notice it. He reached behind him, groping in the air behind him to no avail. Albus observed the scene silently. He had little doubt in his mind of what Harry would see. A sad pang pulled at Albus’s heartstrings Harry stretched out his hand and drew closer to the mirror, his nose almost touching the glass.

“Mum?” Harry whispered “Dad?” The anguish and sorrow in those two simple words laid clouds of unseen despair about the room that seemed to weigh heavily on Albus’ heart.

He watched as Harry pressed both of his hands against the glass, gazing longingly through the barrier that separated him from the wonderful illusion before him. An illusion that was, unbearably, out of his reach.

For a moment Albus made an involuntary movement as though to make his way to the boy, but decided better of it. Instead he did not move or speak. He did not rise and tell Harry that he should not be here; he did not alert him to the fact that he could be caught.. He did not go and comfort the boy who by now was feeling the shattering despair and loss, which filled the chasm that had formed there as he realised who stared back at him out of the mirror.

No, silence and self healing were the things that often help ease the deepest wounds. The old sorcerer knew this only too well.

How long Harry stood there, Albus did not know.

Eventually, they both heard a distant noise somewhere in the castle. And Harry Potter tore his gaze from his parent faces and walked to the door, cloak in his arms, whispered,

“I’ll come back” and vanished from view. Albus listened to Harry’s soft footfall recede down the corridor, until that sound too was gone. He let out a sigh and got up from the desk. He began to pace the room, as was his habit.

He needed to think.

Thu, 10 Apr 2008 22:34:42 GMT

Ok, now trying to get my LJ-cut to work.

Basically i'm looking to see what this layout looks like.

Plus picture =)

I can't believe I missed his gig! Grrrrrrr!

First Postiness! ^^

Thu, 10 Apr 2008 21:18:50 GMT

"Silent and sure, keeping watch in the night..."

Reading Emily Dickinson in an English lesson I discovered that I quite like her work, however dismal it seems to often be! The poem was "Because I could not stop for death". Also, after that, whilst reading a poem a friend wrote i have realised how annoying i find poems that don't scan! If you are going to try and make them rhyme, also try and make them scan people!

Random Facts: Don't trust people to not steal your art if posted on the internet. I know someone who did that and just.....why would you??? Attention seekers really do get to me!

Anyway, gig tomorrow, woooooo! Should be good. =)

I'm never any good at first posts for anything.

Ah well over now.

Tra-lala.

fieryxspirit

Life is just like this isn't it?

Random

Bloggage!

"Hang out with your mate? TKMaximus?"

First Postiness! ^^