This Machine Will, Will Not Communicate

Ahhh, lack of internet and little to no time left in life isn't fun at all, no is it? But here I am, still alive and kicking, I assure you, assuredly. There are always concepts and ideas I have, wonderful ones that creap into my head throughout the day and I sit and think, MAN, that would be a good journal entry, but then when it's time to actual WRITE one, they all go bye-bye.

One though, I can think of, that I've been talking to about as of late is the concept of originality. She contended that originality is still alive and kicking and I contented that it's all a matter of relativity, that the more knowledge you have of any given thing, you come to realize more and more things come from something else, something in the past. Many songs, music, the concepts and ideas could be found in many different forms of music or literature years past and I'm certain if you look back even more, you'll find out where those things came from. I did, though, conclude and realize that it's more of a matter of knowing that things aren't different or new and to take the artist's thoughts and try and see where s/he is coming from. What are your thoughts?

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I've been on dA since 06 (this is the new one after I left... for like a MONTH! ha!) and never, ever been tagged, but, booya! I just got tagged. So, here we go, yo!

the rules are as follow:

post these rules in your journal.
each tagged person must post 8 facts about them selves in their journal.
at the end, you must tag 8 people and post their icons in your same journal.
go to their page and send them a message that they have been tagged.
no tag-backs.(though it would be really funny!!! then would be like 64 things about the same person!!!! heheh)

1) I love video games a lot, and got into writing really cause of them (read tons of fanfiction as a lad)
2) I sleep on the floor, cause it's more comfortable than a bed. I know. My back is that messed up!
3) I'm a romantic through and through.
4) I so want to visit and live and backpack through Europe.
5) I don't care if I'm never rich as long as I get to never lose the art of writing.
6) I'm too much of an optimist 98% of the time. The other 2% I'm often times depressed so much about everything I liked about myself, which is why I try to be an optomist.
7) I love animals and went to a school that had a farm with cows and chickens and horses and goats and sheep and everything. And it was in the city! How cool is that???
8) I constantly get discouraged over my poetry when I look at what's on the market, so old and done and bland, but the people buy it up! I don't get it!


And now, I tagggggg:

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Never since have I been so entralled by some new poetic talent I've discovered.

estallidos, who really needs a avatar, is simply amazing, and seems to have found a pretty huge following quite fast. It's all so regretful poetry, but it's amazingly done, each piece.

I like:

:thumb99592426::thumb99286680:
:thumb98788647:


Also . I like Sarah. And she likes giraffes. And that makes me like Sarah more.

I like:

love is a battle
She had fallen in love with his smile. With his eyes. With his laugh. With his words. But first and foremost, she had fallen in love with his hands.
Long and slender, his fingers are perfect for charming a piano.
And her.
He lures her in slowly, gently first. He flatters, teases, caresses, softens, hypnotizes her with merely his words, laying siege on the wall she has built around herself. He picks up the ruins of the wall he’s slowly crumbling and hurls them back at her, hitting exactly where he knows will break her down into his arms.
He overwhelms her next in a furious barrage of smiles, laughter, and secret glances. He grabs hold of her with merely a look. They lock eyes, but only he is in possession of the key. Nothing she says will make him surrender it. He tells her he knows that she isn’t trying nearly as hard as she could be,
that she doesn’t really want to be free of him, either.
And suddenly, his fingertips are kissing her cheekbones. It’s a surp sometimes i wonder if...
She always closed her eyes and tried to imagine pretty perfection.
Of herself?
Of course not. How silly would that be?
Or would it?
These pretty little lies: it's not that she doesn't want to believe them; it's just that she knows they're not true. You can't make them into the perfect happily-ever-afters she's always imagined.
& every time you say something like that, she spends a week's worth of nights, four frigid walks to school, and one very long shower rolling the idea of him around in her head. But she knows.
They're just
lies.
Still, there's that little flicker of...of something inside her that hopes—hopes so earnestly that maybe.
Just maybe.
& maybe, just for tonight, you can replace the faceless lover in her dreams.
But don't be here in the morning when she realizes you won't stay.
She doesn't need your pity.
There were nights she



And because she rocks. Still.

Statues in the Dark.
I'm lying again.
my hips are burning and I
shouldn't have but boy,
did I and it felt so BAD.
everything is good, though, for the
knobby-kneed soccer mom girls who
won't love, because they commit instead.
It's not so awful after all, living in
the land of smiles and
little kids without broken boys
on chandeliers and lovely girls with
hate in their fingers
(I will tear you apart and
grind your bones against
mine but it's just another
nothing because that's
how it will always be with
you and we won't see
each other again)
I will lie awake and intertwine your pinky with
mine because that's all
that I can bear to touch anymore
they haven't loved and
listened to beautiful liars
tell them that they're
flawless yet or heard
those noises in the night
of those who own it.
you have a lot to learn and a lot to lose
and you're going to hate but you won't LISTEN
The night beat you to covering your body in black,
and once again you're terrible at ending things. It's Coming To An End.
I hope your
thoughts rise up like
bile in your throat
with every word you
scream at me
and maybe at
the hundredth exponent
of your hate you'll
taste your words.
and I just hope they taste like blood.

(Be sure to actually click on and pics. They're just preview pics to lit pieces)
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I really adore this Swedish video:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=QfU-4Y…