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 Posted: Sun May 02, 2010 1:14 pm
My testing :3
Isami Kozakura <3
&& fantasticanne:]
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Posted: Sun May 02, 2010 3:46 pm
  ♂тяιაτคиჟჲაερჩωιℓℓιคოა♂
Where are you and I'm so sorry,
I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight
I need somebody and always
This sick strange darkness comes creeping on so haunting everytime ╔══════════════╗ You won't find me in the same spot, believe me. I could never stop. My life's turned upside down. Meet me out past those train tracks. I'm leaving and not coming back. You're right and I was wrong. This town will be the downfall of us all. The music echoed through his somewhat small room, having it practically blaring through his eardrums. He knew he was going to be deaf when he was in his thirties, he already predicted that. As his music continued to go off, he finally turned the alarm off. The neighbors would be over again, as usual, but he could careless, it was his alarm after all. But no, they never thought of him being early because of the alarm, always the opposite. He hated complainers and his neighbors were the ones who always made him want to do some nasty things to their home. It was a new day, nothing to get mad about, they hadn't even come over to yell so he saved himself the grumpy morning. He rolled out of bed and stretched his arms. For some reason he always felt his muscles a little tight when he woke up. Tristan practically tripped over a pile of clothes that he 'forgot' to put away and some cans (of soda) that he left when his friends came over one night. He mumbled something under his breath then headed straight to his bathroom. The bathroom wasn't any better than his room, the only thing that was possibly clean was the toilet bowl itself. Many of his things were cluttered on the sink: including his necessities.
As usual he would put off cleaning, it wasn't something he enjoyed but he was fine with the clutter. He stripped down and hopped into the shower, water a little on the cold side. A few curse words escaped his lips at the cold water and eventually it got to the temperature he preferred. The water felt good on his body and a chuckle escaped his throat. After he finished showering he dried off and worked on his hair. Unlike most guys, he had to put work into his hair. It wasn't just blow dry and do whatever, there was work he put into his hair. After roughly half an hour, which was fast even for himself, his hair was set. He muttered something to himself then made his way back into his messy room to his closet where his attire lingered. The thought of what to wear never occurred to him, he simply grabbed things and hoped that it matched. He turned on his music and rocked out for a moment before getting dressed. It wasn't his fault he enjoyed music so much. After glancing in the mirror, he nodded with agreement. Tristan grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet before heading down. He didn't feel like going back up to grab everything.
His parents had left long ago for work, which left the house empty for himself. He loved having the house to himself. It gave him a chance to have a drink before school. Yeah he did like drinking in the morning, it made his mornings at school so much relaxed. He busted through his parent's cabinet and found himself a bottle, and poured himself a glass.
"To another day." he murmured and drank it.
The whiskey made its way down his throat and a smile crawled its way upon his face. Oh how he enjoyed whiskey. But because it was natural for him, the whiskey stopped bothering him, in the mornings, and at night. Although on occasion he would drink a little too much. Tristan rummaged through cabinets attempting to find something to put in his stomach other than just the whiskey. Speaking of the whiskey he ran to go put it away, he didn't need his folks knowing about his little problem. At last he found bagels. With time ticking he stuck one into the toaster and grabbed butter. The toaster popped and out came his bagel. With a swift motion he spread butter onto his bagel and headed straight to his car. No need to stay home and do nothing.
As he made his way into his car he let the engine run for a bit and took small bites of his bagel. He checked to make sure he had gum in his glove compartment, which luckily he did. He put in one of his mixed cd's and turned the volume all the way. He didn't care if he woke the entire neighborhood. He ate as he drove and finally arrived at school. Some people turned to see what the noise was from but as soon as they turned they knew. Tristan finished up his bagel and then popped a piece of gum into his mouth. The mint was tasting good. He turned his car off and took out his phone to send a text to them all.
To;; bandmates
From;; Tristan
We meeting somewhere in the morning to talk about last night? And sorry I ditched after our show.
He usually never ditched after a show, but for some reason, he just felt really tired after the show. He sent the message and got out of his car. Tristan never carried anything and just headed in the school. Some kids were already there, at least half of them already at class to be early. Then the other half lingered in the hallway like normal human beings. He sighed softly sent a smile to a few girls then headed straight towards his locker. Tristan grabbed a notebook and closed his locker. He never understood why he was usually early to school. At home, it felt like he was late, and once he arrived, it seemed like he had all the time in the world. He hated that. Then he recognized a girl (with her group of friends) who went to their shows. He would've called them roadies, but they weren't a real famous band...yet. What was her name again? Oh that's right Rachel.
"Hey Rachel!" he called over to her.
From the looks of it, she felt uncomfortable with those group of people, like him, she must have been early. A chuckle escaped his lips and he closed his eyes for a moment. She was making her way over. He was pretty sure that she wanted to be away from them. Of course at the show he never knew how pretty she looked, the room was too dark to see anything and the lights were constantly on the band, all he could remember seeing was some faces, but not the real beauty behind it. Of course her and others were always at their show, which he didn't mind, it just made him feel like there were people in the school who actually liked the band. As she walked up to him he couldn't help but smile.
"Saw you and your friends again." he started "You guys seem to really like our music..." he trailed off with a goofy grin on his face. "But in all of seriousness, what do you guys think of our band? If I remember correctly, I see you and your friends at every show, no matter where or what time it's at."
That was the honest truth. He did see them at every show, with playing lead guitar how could you not see who came to shows. But because of the lights on them it could only show a few people, and usually they were in the same spots as the show before. ╚══════════════╝     Out in the club,
and I'm sippin' that bub,
and you're not gonna reach my telephone_____________________________________________________________________ █║▌│█│║▌║││█║▌│║║█║█║▌│█║▌│║║█║
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Posted: Wed May 05, 2010 7:00 pm
Fixed :]  XXXXXXXX
_______________________________________Cɦαrotʈε Ӎʏa - ɭεe ɗuηɦαm ⊰
• • • Sweet - Sour Asian [ L e m o n a d e s ]XXXXXXX
( a go[ L ]d d[ o ]t on a [ c ]rumpled m[ a ]p of limita[ tion ]s :: Home → school || [ act ] out :: another day • • • )
( the auth[ O ]r has a c[ O ]nco[ C ]tion to serve :: n/a )XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
( W h i s p e r e d thoughts :XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXXX“ Another day. Another morning. Another argument. Another r u n a w a y. ” )
Charlotte’s hand was at her cell phone alarm, before the first note rung out. That, however, was not a surprise. Sighing softly, Charlotte turned onto her back. Her eyes scanned the star charts taped to the ceiling, trailing Ursa Minor, Cassiopeia, Cepheus . . . She loved the stars as much as her sleep. She really did, but how was anyone supposed to stay asleep with the noises downstairs? Her eyes closed, and her ears tuned into the yelling voices below. Mom. Dad. Arguing. Again. Charlotte reached for the calendar and marker that laid on the drawer beside her bed. The marker spilled red onto the calendar, and Charlotte lightly pulled that red into a star with the tip of the nib. There had been a star for thirteen days of the month so far. The girl had long stopped bothering to record the number arguments in one day or the ( mostly irrelevant ) reasons for the arguments. Putting the calendar back, she slowly slid out of bed. Unlike the average teenager, Charlotte’s walls were covered with star charts and posters of the Milky Way, along with other galaxies. It had started with one poster on the door, when she was twelve, and then, like the Big Bang, it burst its way throughout her room. The stars were able to say “good night” to her when she went to bed and “good morning” when she woke up. A simple pleasure, in drudgery of life. There were pictures of her girl scout friends too; one of which caught her attention with their smiling faces. Really, what would she have done without them? They kept her sane everyday, since she was little. They were her escape from “home”. Her parents’ shouting suddenly seemed to have gotten louder. Charlotte suddenly felt an urge to disappear far from where she was. Pulling her eyes away from the picture, she rummaged through her closet and drawers and headed off to the bathroom with the day’s outfit: thigh-high black stockings, pleated black skirt, plain t-shirt, and sweater.Changed and fresh out of the shower, she wiped at the fogged mirror with her hand. Her reflection stared back at her. It didn’t have her father’s clear, blue eyes or her mother’s dirty, blond hair or any of her parents’ Caucasian pointed features. The apparent difference in ethnicity between parent and child only screamed: Adopted! Her reflection’s expression seemed to droop a bit. The mirror just had to be a reminder every morning. Charlotte turned and grabbed the hair dryer. Once her hair was dry, she ran a brush through it and pulled the hair back in a pony tail. Her bangs were eager to fall into her eyes, and she blew those to the side. Some eyeliner was applied, and just a bit of make up. Charlotte struggled a sincere smile to herself. A smile that she wanted to say, “Everything’s okay.”By the time she was out and in the kitchen, her parents had quieted. Her dad was sitting at the table, staring blankly out the window. Her mother was standing by the cold stove, glaring at the wall. Her balled hands were shaking. Charlotte breathed a deep breath in and began, “Hi, Mom. Hi, Da–” Her greeting was abruptly cut off and drowned out by a snappy comment that her mom directed at her dad. Her dad was quick to reply back just as rudely. Thus, another argument was born, and Charlotte become completely ignored by both parents. Holding back a sigh, she shuffled over to the fridge, pulled out two frozen waffles and stuck them in the toaster. The argument between her parents seemed to had gone to deafening proportions. Standing in the middle of that argument was Charlotte, who found waiting for the waffles torturous. She glanced longingly at the kitchen doorway. Then as if on cue, her drowsy, little brother came walking in; an empty bottle to his mouth. Unlike her, he had his father's blue eyes and his mother's blond hair. And despite being three, he still drank from a bottle in the morning. He was also smarter than most gave him credit for. Charlotte greeted him, “Hi, Nathan!” She didn't shout, but her parents still heard the name. The effect was immediate.Her parents froze. The waffles popped out of the toaster. Charlotte held back a sigh of relief. Mom left the kitchen, hugging Nathan as she left. Dad went back to his seat. Watching them, Charlotte couldn’t help wondering. Perhaps if she was born pure lily-white, like her brother, with her parents blood coursing through her veins, also like her brother. Perhaps. Perhaps just her presence would at least make the outside family picture seem happy, like it was . . . with Nathan around. “Want a waffle?” She asked the boy, suppressing the sick feeling building in her stomach. He nodded, climbing onto the chair beside his dad. Charlotte took the bottle from him, refilled his it with cold milk from the fridge and then reheated in the microwave. She grabbed a plate from the cabinets, laid a waffle on, slathered some butter on it, and drizzled syrup all over. The bottle was fetched and given to Nathan. The plate were swiftly set before Nathan, along with a napkin and fork. Charlotte grabbed her own waffle, added some syrup, and with a napkin, ran upstairs to get her stuff. She rushed back down stairs with a messenger bag slung over her shoulder and a half-gone waffle. “See ya, Nathan,” She said and kissed his forehead. He responded by vigorously rubbing his forehead with his hand in classical, childish disgust. Charlotte glanced at her dad and then said, as she began to leave, “Sorry, can’t drop Nathan off at daycare today. Vital meeting with the scouts before school.” That was a lie, but Charlotte needed to get out. She didn’t think she could handle being in the house with her parents for more than two hours a day, excluding sleep. Not to mention, lies were the least of her worries. Her parents either believed them all or had never heard and never questioned her disappearances. She felt like a dead being around them. No way would they ever suspect the parties, the rockers, the fun of secrets, nor would they care, if they found out. Nathan, though, was loved and perfectly safe . . . or rather with him around, her parents were safe from each other.In her black boots and her red car, she opened her glove compartment and smiled. Bangles, chain bracelets, string, leather, she had taken to storing all her jewelry in there, instead of at home. It gave her less of a reason to be home other than to sleep. Once she piled an assortment of bracelets on her wrists, she drove off. Her cell alerted her of Rachel’s text, and suddenly the car seemed to be driven with more urgency.At school, she soon found Katy with Rachel, and there was one other, a guy. Tristan, right? He was facing her direction. Eyes meeting with his and a soft smile on her face, she lazily saluted him with a hand to her forehead. Her hand then slid down to a single finger at her lips (shh), as she carefully sneaked up behind Rachel and Katy. Being a ninja was easy. Rachel and Katy’s attention didn’t seem to be too much on their surroundings. It was just a matter of being quiet, which (not to sound arrogant) Charlotte excelled at. Once close behind them, she let out a mischievous, “Roar.” The girl broke out into a grin but then quickly and childishly pouted, as she began wrapping her arms around her two friends. “Don't I get a hug too?”
____________________________________________________________________
• • • ⊱ “ [ C i r c l e ] me
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXAnd the [ n e e d l e ] moves gracef u l l y
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXBack and [ f o r t h ]
XXXXXXIf my heart was a [ c o m p a s s ], you'd be [ n o r t h ]. ” • • •
XXXXXXXX
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Posted: Thu May 06, 2010 12:45 pm
 Samuel J. Evans
We only got 86,400 seconds in a day to
Turn it all around or to throw it all away
We gotta tell them that we love them
While we got the chance to say
Gotta live like we're dying ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Only the sounds of a clock could be heard throughout the room. The smell in the room was heavy with the stench of marijuana. All he could remember was going straight home after their show and smoking a few blunts with a few girls (who were from somewhere else) who had returned with him back to his place. Luckily for him his parents had left for a business trip and wouldn’t be returning anytime soon. Sam opened his eyes squinting as the sunlight made its way through the cracks in his blinds. He could see a few of the girls still on his floor and some of last night’s events ran through his mind. Sam slowly made his way to the window and closed the blinds hoping to keep the sunlight out of his room. He enjoyed the darkness, especially in the morning. The girls were finally awaking from their deep slumber and they smiled at him rubbing their eyes. There was an awkward silence for a moment but the two knew that they would come back for another at their next show. It wasn’t like it was their first time coming. They carefully made their way to him and hugged him tightly whispering words of ‘See you at your next show’ and ‘can’t wait to smoke the good stuff’. Sam hugged the two back and couldn’t help but smirk to himself.
“See you ladies at the next show.”
The two giggled and left. Glancing around the room he felt a little disgusted with what they had done to his room last night. Of course they had their little fun before indulging themselves with marijuana. Sam yawned to himself knowing that he’d have to clean his room up, but he wasn’t one who enjoyed doing work, cleaning was work, it would be for another day. Heading straight to his bathroom he turned on the radio listening to tunes that was playing. He stripped down and quickly made his way into the shower. As he turned the water on, he turned at the sound coming from inside his room. Putting on a pair of sweats he glanced around his room from his bathroom. Was another girl still here? There was only 2 that had come home with him right? Sam shifted his weight slightly hoping that he was only hearing things. He closed his bathroom door and got out of his sweats and back into the shower. The water trailed down his body leaving him peaceful in thought. After washing every part of him he let the water run down his entire body for another five minutes. The water felt good against his skin. Finally he got out grabbing a towel from the rack to dry himself off. As he wrapped the towel around his waist, Sam heard the noise again, this time, it was running, almost as if it were someone running across the room multiple times. But he was almost certain that it was just him. This time he heard the steps near the door. Was this person trying to find his stash? He opened the door to reveal a girl who was embarrassed at the event.
"Give my stash back." he pointed to her bag that contained a bag of marijuana, his good stuff.
She was pretty smart for knowing that this was the good stuff. She was silent and looked at the ground. He remembered the girl from one of the shows. She mumbled something softly but he didn't hear her, she was too quiet.
"Hey, I won't let you come over with the other two to have some with me next show, now give the stash back."
She backed up slightly and quickly he grabbed her and brought her against the wall. She dropped her bag and he kicked it away from her so she didn't try to do anything sneaky. He pinned her against the wall and she let one of her hands reside on his chest. Sam could tell that she was only smart enough to stash it in her bag, which was good for him, he really didn't want to do a body search. Sam brought his lips practically centimeters away from hers. Oh how she wanted to kiss him. But he pulled away and smiled at her.
"See you at the next show."
Why his words came out as if nothing happened seem to surprise her, she was expecting him to freak out, but Sam was in a good mood, nothing to made a big deal about, unless she really did get away with taking his good stash. He went to her bag and removed the small bag of marijuana and handed her bag back. She blushed and nodded at him and left. Sam couldn't help but chuckle at her actions but headed straight to his closet. What to wear? The weather seemed nice enough to wear shorts, and that's what he planned on. After moments finding the right set of attire he looked into the mirror. He checked his phone for any text messages. There were some from last night that they were all leaving, which was fine with him, it just meant that they didn't care that they all ditched last night. Then there were a few from this morning.
To;; bandmates
From;; Tristan
We meeting somewhere in the morning to talk about last night? And sorry I ditched after our show.
--
And another:
To: Mates
From: Vik
Sub:Re:
How about the cafeteria or something before classes? Sorry for my dumb s**t last night as well.
So they were meeting at the cafeteria. Worked for him. He sent a text back to them all.
To;; Buds
From;; Sam
Works for me, cafeteria it is, see you guys soon.
As he hit the send button he made sure it was sent and grabbed his phone. Before leaving the room he sprayed his room with his regular cologne and got himself as well so he didn't smell like marijuana when he got to school. Finally, his room smelled normal again. Taking a whiff of his body spray he headed down phone in hand and straight to the kitchen. Popping a few waffles into the toaster he grabbed himself a glass of juice. Like he predicted the waffles popped and he slavered them with peanut butter. He did love his peanut butter. As he gulped the remaining of his juice down his throat and grabbed the keys to his car. Sam turned his music up as loud as it could go and smiled to himself. Just the way he liked it.
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ____________________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________ Drain the pressure from the swelling,
This sensation's overwhelming,
Give me a long kiss goodnight
and everything will be alright
Tell me that I won't feel a thing
So give me Novacaine ____________________________________________________________________________
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