|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 20, 2012 6:58 am
ι ωαит тσ ƒlÿ ℓιкє тнє вυττεɾƒlÿ тнαт ι αм ιиѕι∂є ωєℓ¢σмє!Once upon a time, there was a magician who lived deep in the woods. The magician was an adventurer, who had ventured to every nook and cranny of this world. He loved the sights, yes, and he loved the adrenaline rush just as much. What really set the spark for his adventures, however, was his love for all the smells of this world.
He wanted to share with the world all the smells he had smelled, whether it was a beautiful smell or a pungent smell that made you flinch. At first, he wasn't sure how to carry all the smells to the world without bombarding the denizens' senses. That's when he invented the first candle.
In essence, a candle is a stick of wax that emits a scent when ignited. The magician soon made 364 more candles to his liking. He slowly sent a candle out into the world, one by one, on a daily basis.
The first smell smelled of his small home in the forest. After all, that's where everything had began. And this post, my sweet, contains the very first candle ever made. It symbolizes new beginnings; and, as new beginnings go, it is short. It seems to be meaningless, but without a simple beginning, a story would be nonexistent.уσυ нανє 361 ∂αуѕ σf ¢αи∂ℓєѕ ℓєfтxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon May 21, 2012 6:55 am
тнє ѕє¢σи∂ ¢αи∂ℓє - сαυṡε αṉḋ 僃εсτ If someone dies, it's obvious many will grieve. The magician hadn't always lived alone--once upon a time, he had been the man of a family of three. His daughter, however, died by disease--and his wife had committed... suicide... in her distraught faze. Not a day passes when the magician remembers his once-family's smiling faces, laughter--and their deaths.
With his candle, he wants to send out a seed of hope into this world. The magician wants to cause well-being in the world where there may be sorrow. He gets crafting, and his second candle just barely emits a peachy scent. He wants it to help remind the people that some things cannot be reversed--that it's time to look forward, not back.
If something happens, its aftermath will soon follow. And there's a chance that you won't know what the cause even was, in the end.. The wizard doesn't want the people to blame themselves for what they cannot explain.тнє тнιя∂ ¢αи∂ℓє - ρєα¢є σf мιи∂ Today, the wizard has finally reached peace of mind. Now, he is no longer attempting to humans something he has not yet attained himself. He is no longer being a hypocrite. He knows that things must change, and he knows that things have changed. The wizard is not the master of time, which flows on and on and on and on.
The wizard decides to go on a journey. Instead of mailing the candles out, one by one, aimlessly, he will give those candles to those who need them. And, besides, it always means more to have received from someone near you than to have acquired something through mail.
His third candle smells like grapefruit. It's a bit tart - no, it's more than just a bit - yet there's' a luscious, delicious taste once you try it enough. That's what life is like, the magician firmly believes. He closes his book and leaves his house. The adventure begins today.тнє fσυятн ¢αи∂ℓє - ¢нιℓ∂нσσ∂ мємσяιєѕ Beatrice smiles as she looks into the mirror. Her auburn hair, her rather huge lips, her knotty nose, and her determined eyes... Everything's just the same as they had been fourteen years ago. The only thing that's different is that she looks older, what with the wrinkles and all - after all, you cannot fool time. She's going to some high school reunion today, and she can't help but be a little sad that she has stayed the way she was so many years ago. After all, her once friends and acquaintances probably look much different now.
As she drives her Prius to the high school she once attended, she can't help but feel a bit nostalgic. She remembers the way she and her friends had pranked so many people, and she remembers her first boyfriend... her first kiss... Instead of going forward in time, her memories go back. It's like miniature flashbacks that are played in reverse order. Soon she remembers her first crush, second grade. She remembers the first friend she made by herself, and not from her parents' and teachers' intervention, first grade.
She is too lost in thought, that vacant look plain in her eyes. She keeps walking, though, and soon Beatrice trips. Her fall forces her back to her senses, and someone - an old man - lends his hand to help her up. Beatrice takes that hand, and mutters an half-apology, half-thanks. The old man looks into her eyes, and she can feel him scrutinize her. She feels a bit freaked out, but holds her composure. Just as she's about to ask him if anything's up, he hands her a candle.
"Just in case you need it."
With that, the old man disappears before her eyes. Vanishes. Beatrice stares, not quite sure what just happened to her. Had she hallucinated it? The candle, however, is still in her hand. It smells faintly of grass. Beatrice knows, somehow, that the smell will become a luscious smell filled with a wilderness scent once ignited. Wilderness, uncharted and free as her past. She shudders, as the incident with the old man is a paradox she will never forget. But somehow, the candle pleases her. Comforts her.
Beatrice smiles as she struts into the high-school with new-found swag that she'd never known she had.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|