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Do you remember stepping into the dark? How long ago that was? You’ve been walking this road for too long.

But, of course you dont remember stepping into the murky world, no one ever does. You were only trying to walk away from people lying, people dying.

Every hope, every dream you started with flew off long ago, but you continue to wade through darkness.

So, why do you keep walking? I can’t figure it out, can you?

A glimmer in the distance, growing stronger, becoming brilliant. You begin to run, your entire being focused on chasing the light.

Until you hear the call.

“Evan, open your eyes!”

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TEGAN, THE SURVIVOR

“I’m gonna squirt lemon juice in your eyes.” She said, smirking.
“Go ahead, I dare you to.” I retorted, calling her bluff, bored out of my rotted mind. Having grown up with Deza, I was used to her demoralizing remarks, taunting laughs, and threats of painful mutilation. She wasn’t going to do anything, she was all talk. Basically, she was just another slum girl. Just like me.

Deza sloshed the bottle of lemon juice menacingly, slinging the loose cap in my face. My dull eyes focused on a tipped trashcan behind her, not following the movement of the canister, not daring to gaze at her face.
After a moment of this, she made a sound, halfway between a growl and a sigh, and dropped the bottle. She turned, retreating back into the shadows of the Plywood Jungle; she called over her shoulder, before dissolving back the way she came.

“Someday, we’ll break you, Tegan. You’re no different from the rest of us. Just some dirty, city trash.” A smile mangled her lips on the last words.
And I was left with only her two followers, Cam and Sarah. The two girls circled me, footsteps hardly making a sound in the rain flushed alley way.
“Ya know what’s really too bad, Cam?” Sarah said, sugary sarcasm dripping from her voice. The fervent desire to strike me was written all over her face, warring with the desire to make me cower, to draw this out.
“No, what?” Cam asked bluntly. Stupid as always. I saw a flicker of annoyance on Sarah’s face; her own sidekick was trashing her game.
“It’s really too bad Regan got that friend of yours, Tegan.” They slow orbit stopped, both of them waiting, expectation dominant on their faces.
I froze. No. No! She’s bluffing, she’s just like Deza. All talk. My breathing jacked up, my blood sprinting as though it were spiked.
“Yeah,” Cam chimed in. “Kelsey, right? Regan’s group had some conflict with her.” Both their expression were fixed in the same hideous, snaggly smile.
“She doesn’t believe us, Cam,” Sarah bellowed. “Well, it’s true. The brat always had a big mouth, and of course, you know Regan’s way with weapons. Kelsey never knew what hit her! It was late at night, and they snuck up from behind and—”
“Shut UP!” I screamed. With that, I wheeled, shoving through both girls, and sprinted out of the Plywood Jungle. Out into the open.
Hurdling fallen trash cans and sleeping bums, I tore through the slum’s network of alleys. I did not try to stay hidden, inconspicuous. I just ran, because Kelsey was not dead.
Sliding under a tattered chain-link fence, I entered into the industrial yard. I could see the sound now, the water being whipped into waves by the vicious wind.
Finally, I slowed. My breath was ragged, slicing my breath with every influx. I climbed over some stacked oil drums, hopping over some barbed wire that crowned a snaking fence, into The Lot.
The Lot was just a weed riddled plot on the edge of the ship yard, facing the bay. I sat on the edge of The Lot, inches from the steep, concrete drop into a mooring for smaller boats.
Kelsey…I knew Regan had been hunting her, she knew it, too. She had insulted him a week ago. So, basically, by rule of thumb in the dregs, that was a death sentence, especially with Regan, the top dog of his gang.
Tears slid down my cheeks, the harsh wind bite at them, and I curled my knees to my chest, dropping my head down onto them. Kelsey…
I sat like that for a very long time. The cold of the concrete seeped into my flimsy, thread bare clothes, trashed from weeks of wear. Kelsey…My best friend, dead. Kelsey… My mind tripped in circles as I sat, calmly crying.
A hand yanked my hair, wrenching my head back so that I was looking up into Deza’s piggy eyes. “Found you…” She whispered. “Did you really think you’d get away after shoving my girls?” She growled, her voice quiet, dangerous. Using my long, never-been-cut hair as a handle, she swung me momentarily to my feet, and over, forcing me onto my knees in a scum-and-oil filled puddle.
“Leave me alone,” I snarled, tears of pain welling in my eyes.
“Why?” Deza whispered. A hand cupped under my chin, slamming my head even farther back. Sharp nails dug into my shoulders as someone else secured my wrists, tightening whatever was restraining me. Wet nylon. I realized it was an old dog collar, from one of the strays. Its metal tags jangled on my back.
With an icy pang of fear, I knew something was different. Today, the Earth had jolted on its axis. Karma’s flip side was wreaking its havoc on my dead ended life. Today, Deza was serious. That also roughly translated into: I was dead.

Because Deza had me, had me cold. Had me bound, unable to move. I was at her knees, but I didn’t think begging for mercy would help.
Rule 50: Slum kids don’t know mercy. Kelsey…
“Get your filthy hands of me!” I screamed, ripping my hair free, leaping to my feet.
Only, I hadn’t realized just how close to the drop I was. I staggered back, unable to find my balance, wobbling erratically.
Sarah walked up to my, one hand extended.
“Leave me alone, Sarah!” I yelled, desperately trying not to fall. She grasped a handful of my t-shirt, pulling me farther on to solid ground. I gasped. Was she rebelling? Why would she bother to save my now, she hated me.
“Bye,” She breathed, and pushed me out into the open air.

Thank you to all the awesome people who read what I write! You guys encourage me to write more!

Matryoshka. The russian word for those little wooden nesting dolls. Matryoshka. A song about going insane. How do these two connect? I had no clue, until, while stumbling through comments on a Vocaloid music video, I found one explaintion that worked.

My take on the meaning of this song:

The references to Freud and Matryoshkas leads me to believe this song is about the ever-famous theory of repression, which is applied to people who repress memories as a mental defence and subsequently develop many ‘layers’ (like a matryoshka doll). A Keloid is a type of scar, which could refer to the trauma from which the issues stem. The song is basically about the layers of insanity/going ******* crazy and using music as an outlet for that.

NekeNyo

But, to really understand this comment, you’d have to read the lyrics, to find what it is refrencing to, and the orignal song is in japanese, so some lyrics may sound wierd in Enlgish.

WARNING: Its a bit of a long song…

One two, one two three four! This message that I think way too much about Others might see it, but how can you tell? No, I don’t think I’ve changed my ways A patched up crazy, matryoshka!
The package is sung by one’s headache Clocks’ hands refuse to leave 4 o’ clock Keep your lips sealed, don’t tell a soul Or else our world will go upside down
Ah, I feel so very torn forget everything that you remember, too Ah, how I want to know everything deep down Well you know If you could please keep on dancing
Kalinka? Malinka? Just keep playing the chord What should I do about these feelings? Can’t you give me just a little tip?
Hear ya loud and clear, 524 Freud? Keloid? Just slam on the key Truly you can laugh at anything Hurry up and dance for me you fool
Clap your hands, it’s not really all that childish Just keep watching this tune, it’s meant to be crazy But really, it doesn’t matter if you choose The world is starting to freeze into ice
You and me go rendezvous? Rendezvous? Go rendezvous? Or maybe out on a jumping adventure? Just don’t go walking straight 1,2 1,2
Ah, It’s about time for me to explode could you catch me? Ah, bridal style catch my body for me Well you know Could you listen to me just a little bit
Kalinka? Malinka? Could you pinch my cheek for me? I have no control anymore Should we find more fun things to do?
Yes I do feel pain without tears Parade? Marade? Just keep on clapping Wait, now you’re asking me to wait? Before the number drops to one…
You and me go rendezvous? Rendezvous? Go rendezvous? Or maybe out on a jumping adventure? Just don’t start walking straight 1,2 1,2
(Yai, Yai) Are you getting sick? (Yai, Yai) From hearing this song
(Yai, Yai) Yeah, I know I’m still a patched up, crazy matryoshka Hey, hey, hey If you could please keep on dancing
Kalinka? Malinka? Just keep playing the chord What should I do about these feelings? Can’t you give me just a little tip?

YEAH!!!!!  Anyway, I don’t actually knw where I’m going with this post, so go make a sandwich while I think about it! While you ponder that sandwich, listen to the actual song!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JGaQ3g8WU4&list=PL6614F3D466A4BB15&index=14&feature=plpp_video

Life skills. A course in school I’d found to be useless. But, today, we did something besides wandering through unclear topics. We had a workshop on social justice called: Blowin in the Wind.

Mrs. Hawk read us a book of that title, which had the lyrics of Bob Dylan’s song: Blowin in the Wind as the text. It was illustrated, beautiful paintings, children being the main characters.

How many roads must a man walk down,
before you call him a man?
How many seas must a white dove fly,
before she sleeps in the sand?
And how many times must a cannon ball fly,
before they’re forever banned?

The answer my friend is blowing in the wind,
the answer is blowing in the wind.

How many years can a mountain exist,
before it is washed to the sea?
How many years can some people exist,
before they’re allowed to be free?
And how many times can a man turn his head,
and pretend that he just doesn’t see?

The answer my friend is blowing in the wind,
the answer is blowing in the wind.

How many times must a man look up,
before he sees the sky?
And how many ears must one man have,
before he can hear people cry ?
And how many deaths will it take till we know,
that too many people have died?

The answer my friend is blowing in the wind,
the answer is blowing in the wind.

The answer my friend is blowing in the wind,
the answer is blowing in the wind.

Why is it that a man must conquer quests to be equal to those who knew of no such challenges? How many times can a man turn his head and pretend he doesn’t see? That question struck me. We see something bad happening we turn our heads, because it’s not our problem, right? No. We talked about this, why we turn away from those in need., why we cannot hear those around us cry, if it doesn’t concern us, we pretend it does not exist.

The teacher passed out paper, and told us to answer a question on it. We could make up the question, but I chose one that was written on the board, Why do we fight each other? I folded my paper into a paper airplane, my answer filling the entire sheet. Because, the songs says the answer is blowing in the wind, the truth is all around us, just take yours fingers to the breath, and catch an airplane.

I threw my plane, and watched it spiral and glide. Maybe it’ll reach someone, who can say?

i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me someone must accept me for who what how i am i am strong i am powerful i am loved i am not worthless i know there is a reason i am here someone needs me

So there was this beautiful princess.

And she lived in Tokyo. And her royal family were the keepers and protectors of the Sacred Shrine.

And this girl, she had large, glimmering eyes that poured out searching light. Her long black hair hung in in locks, shadowing her mysterious doe-eyes.

And there was this aggravated Knight.

Who had long, radiant white hair that fell down his back. Brilliant amber eyes glared and ridiculed the world.

Tired of being the shadow of his big brother, he desired the SAcred Jewel, in which he would become powerful. Mighty. Able to kill the ice cold figure that was his eldest brother.

For he was only half the demon his brother was, literally.

But this boy fell in love with a priestess, protector of the  Shikon Sacred Jewel. But greed got ahold of his heart, wrapped its steely claws around it, and pulled. The boy killed his love.

He was sealed to a tree by a sacred arrow, and never regained consciousness.

The princess(not priestess) fell into the old well in her Family’s Shrine, and woke up at the other side.

She climbed out. And all around her was the world of a thousand years ago.

She wandered, into the forest, and came across the snowy-haired knight, held to a tree by grasping vines, shot through with an arrow. Climbing up to meet him, she stopped dead.

Wolf ears, This boy had wolf Ears.

tentatively, she reached out to stroke such ears. The boys eyes flicked open.

“Yo, Kikyo,” He said, mocking anger heavy in his low, sarcastic voice.

 

Time

Elusive

A devilish fox

Staring you down

Or slinking

Around corners,

Behind your back.

He’s obvious,

If you thought to look,

To wake up.

And if not,

You’ll catch

His shiny red tail

Just flitting out of sight

Around the bend.

Because he is gone,

So is your time.

The time to cry

To laugh

To fight.

But one last time awaits.

The time to die.

Why didn’t you wake up earlier,

And live life?

Instead of barricading

All thoughts of awareness.

Fighting the call

To interact.

With a last fleeting glimpse,

The fox grins,

Before

Dragging his stopwatch to his next child.