Tikem, P and myself are currently working on a project and we need your help. Basically we want to do a set of shows kinda like Ghost Hunters, Destination Truth, Ghost Adventures etc where investigative teams go out and investigate paranormal and weird ****. Obviously we aren't doing it as a serious thing, but we want to investigate odd places and stuff from the internet, and this is where we need your input. Reccommendations and stuff plz edit: no we aren't bringing new people into it, we just want to know where people want to see investigated.
I bit my tongue. It hurts. A lot. That is all ;-; Also, I am bored. Now that really is all except Have some cheese
Spent the morning, as some of you know, teaching some kids (3rd and 4th grade) about archaeology. I just got home now, and omg, it was so AWESOME D: It was so much fun, some of them had really good questions, some of them were little shits and it was annoying being asked about dinosaurs so much, but aside from that it was amazing. The school want me to go back and be more involved and stuff D: There is a whole little bunch of kids that now want to be archaeologists D: I am actually seriously considering doing a PGCE and becoming a teacher.
You know we had like quite a lot over 2,000,000 posts? What happened? ._.
Taken me a while to write, it has gone through so many phases of editing and re-writing and I am still not happy with it, so maybe you guys can help me out a little. Practicing working with dialogue since it is one of the many things I suck at getting right. Comments are loved, advice is loved even more <3 knock yourselves out Spoiler Pancakes For Breakfast The sound of birds singing happily amongst the trees outside filtered into Lara’s room waking her from her sleep. She blinked in the already bright sunshine that made its way through the gaps in her blinds and glanced at her clock. It was 9:00 am but it felt much later. She stretched with an almost catlike grace between cotton sheets, smiling as she remembered the vague images from her dreams. She couldn’t remember the exact details but she could remember the happiness that they had brought to her and the feeling had carried on over as she awoke. Nothing would spoil her mood today. After lazing around for a short while she decided it would be a good idea to get up and get dressed; it would soon be time for the show and there was no way she was going to miss it now, especially after all the work she had put in. She dressed comfortably in faded jeans and a pale brown sweater before combing her hair and opening the blinds. Sunlight flooded the bedroom filling the air with bright cheerful warmth as she made her bed neatly and left the room singing along to a happy little tune that played from a radio somewhere outside. She skipped down the stairs lightly pausing only to pet her cat as it soaked lazily in a ray of sunlight coming through a window. She walked into the kitchen and tweaked a flower that had drooped from the vase before flicking the kettle on and fetching a grapefruit for breakfast. She paused with the knife held over the fruit trying to decide if she would just have the one half today or both before she decided that today was a day for pancakes. Pancakes drenched in sugar and syrup and fruit and cream, the more the better, screw the diet; today was special. Several minutes later with her plate piled high and a steaming cup of tea she sat down in the living room. After a brief game of let’s-see-where-the-remote-is-this-time, she switched on the TV and flicked through the channels until she found the one she wanted. She curled up on the sofa and took a bite out of the pancakes singing along to the jingle of the show just starting. The screen went black before lighting up to reveal an attractive woman in a smart suit sat on a raised stage in front of an audience, she held a microphone in one hand and was trying to get the attention of the chattering audience. When they had finally settled down she smiled a perfect smile and began to talk, “Hello and welcome to today’s show, today we are joined by up and coming author Lara Jones, who will be discussing her latest book Anomaly with us as well as a special live performance by the newest band on the block Funky Spidermonkey, but first lets see what’s got you all talking this week†the woman sat down at a desk and began to go through a pile of letters that had been sent in. Lara ate her way through her breakfast as the woman on the screen circulated around the audience collecting different comments and ideas on the issues raised, she didn’t particularly care for this part of the show but it was easier to sit through than risk missing her part. Excitement bubbled in her stomach as it went to commercial break - her part was coming next. She quickly ran her plate into the kitchen and rinsed it under the tap before running back into the living room and diving back onto the sofa. Just in time she wrapped her arms around a cushion and sat waiting eagerly like a small child waiting for a birthday present. She turned her full attention to the screen. ~~~ The lights came back on as the audience applauded and the presenter was now joined on stage by a young woman. She was pretty in an unremarkable way with a bright smile that she couldn’t seem to hide, and from the way she fidgeted in the guest chair she was clearly nervous. The presenter smiled at her encouragingly and she smiled back, this was her time, her chance to get her work out there finally. The presenter began, “So Lara, you’re here today to discuss your latest book Anomaly with us, its expected to hit the bestseller lists here in the UK when it goes on sale, why not tell us a bit about it,†“Well its basically about a young woman who commits suicide, understandably it shocks her family and friends, even more so since to the outside world she had the perfect life; successful, pretty, intelligent, nobody can understand why she would do such a thing, throughout the course of the book the people who were close to her begin to discover that they really don’t know her at all; she was just hidden behind a very carefully painted mask†“So it is a book about death?†“Only with regards to the fact that it starts with a death, but mostly it is a book about perspectives that just because we see something in one way doesn’t necessarily mean that it is so. Lucy to the outside world is happy, bright, and positive, the last person you would expect to go through with the act of suicide, but away from the outside world she is a completely different person. In her mind she has no place where she belongs, nowhere that she fits in and no reason to exist, in short she feels as though she is an anomaly of the human race†“Ah I see†the woman shifted in her seat and looked at Lara, she seemed to hesitate before she began her next question, “The book deals with some quite serious issues, obviously the suicide, but also the events which lead up to it that are revealed throughout, what we want to know is, where did you get your inspiration for Lucy’s story?†Lara smiled as though she was used to the question being asked but she answered seriously, “If you read any magazine on the shelf you will find a dozen or more stories of the heartache and chaos that people go through on a daily basis, I think we can all relate to the isolation that Lucy feels, I can empathise with the things she goes through, but does that mean my past is a reflection of the one I wrote for her? Of course not, the issues raised in the book are issues that I think the public needs to face and work towards helping, so often cries for help are ignored, sometimes, as in the case of Lucy, a cry for help can’t even be made through fear of the reaction from society†“So would you say that is the message of your work? To encourage society to listen and help more?†“I would say that the message is different to every reader, I didn’t write with the intent to preach, rather I felt that Lucy’s story is a story of many people that needed to be told†“What do you hope to gain from the book being published, if there was one thing that you would want the public to take from it, I know you didn’t write with a specific message, but if you could have them take one thing?†“Hopefully the courage to be able to talk to their friends and family, to know that they don’t have to suffer and hold everything in. Lucy’s story is a mosaic of life stories and experiences all woven together in this dark world she creates for herself, but Lucy’s story doesn’t have to be your story†“Powerful words, I wish you success and shall be pre-ordering my copy†“Let me know when it arrives-I’ll sign it for you†Lara flashed a smile at the presenter, she felt confident, proud even, and the adrenalin of the interview had made her feel alive and she glowed with it. The two women embraced before Lara left the stage to applause. ~~~ The screen went black as Lara switched the TV off; she had seen what she had wanted to see. Hugging the cushion to her stomach she sighed happily remembering how good it had felt to feel alive, she had hoped that seeing the interview would reawaken that adrenalin but it hadn’t. It had only made her remember that her happiness was always short lived. She had tried so hard to fix the things in her life that were broken, tried so hard to talk, but she couldn’t. It was true that her life wasn’t a reflection of the character in her book; the character in her book was only the tiniest window into Lara’s life. In reality it was all so much more than she could ever put into words. Outside the sun continued to shine with confidence, it never had to worry about not being enough for the people of the world, it just was what it was. She was tired of never being enough, she wasn’t even strong enough to escape the fate of a fictional character in a story she had written in the space of two weeks. Weak, so incredibly weak, it was all she had ever been, all she ever would be, and as certainty caught hold of her mind she couldn’t help but laugh at the irony, so much for hope, the book hadn’t been the wake up call for people she had wished it would be. Her final cry for help. Yet somehow she feels calm, she feels content, today is still a special day and as she reaches into the drawer of the table and feels the comforting weight of metal she smiles. The click sounding loud and reassuring in the otherwise silent house, she stares down the barrel of her salvation and sees only freedom. She pulls the trigger.
Remember This~ <3
Spoiler
It has been brought to my attention that my attitude as of late has been b!tchier than normal. I actually kind of feel like can’t do anything right where this place and my attitude are concerned, it is like I am always too this or too that or not enough of the other, but I guess I can’t please everyone all the time. Sometimes I kind of wish I could split myself into a million tiny pieces so that everyone could have the CtR that they want and I wouldn’t have to try so bloody hard and feel like I’m letting people down so much all the time. Anyway, before I go off on a tangent. If you have been offended by my behaviour or my attitude as of late, I am sorry. I have a quick temper and I don’t always think before I post. I never actually mean to upset anyone or attack anyone, but I guess everyone slips at times. Anyway, I’m sorry, and I’ll keep a better check on my attitude from now on. I dislike admitting when I am wrong, even more so than I hate being wrong. So that should tell you I’m serious. All I've done is succeed in alienating people and getting people mad at me, and I kind of want to stop losing friends because they think "I've changed". I have changed, it is true, but people change and that is normal, though I think recently more than ever I've changed in the worst ways. I’m sorry for being such a cow, and I’m sorry for letting people down with my attitude. I'll keep a better check over it from now. Love, CtR
Hello and good day to our viewers, now for a round up of the days news. First our headlines Valentines Day Massacre? As the most dreaded holiday of the year approaches the forum, tempers have become frayed as the hormones are rising. Recent reports have revealed that war is coming. Hold on to your partners tight, whether you're sharing your Valentines with a loved one or a carton of Ben & Jerry's this Valentines is sure to be an interesting one. Alt Account Madness With the majority of school coming up to their midterm break, the banned members of old are pouring out of the woodwork in altaccount style. The fashion this season appears to be reviving old accounts that were forgotten, wearing accounts of the last season appears to be a popular choice. Though some are going for the more undercover type accounts reflecting alting of days long gone by when an innocent I<3Demyx4eva was hiding the soul of a troll. Sweet Nostalgia This time of year is proving as popular as ever with older members coming back to impart their wisdom and nostalgia bomb over days gone by, say hello to your vets! UR SO GAY! ...and you really, really don't like men. THIS JUST IN, BREAKING NEWS, WE ARE GETTING REPORTS THAT X2 IS A LESBIAN. Kannira The Wolf has recently re-confirmed that yes, she is a female, and that yes, she likes girls. To some members this has come as a huge shock, however we believe it will settle down until the next time someone doubts the existence of bisexuals and lesbians. Now for more local news. Firstly progress has been made as a battle to remove a censor was effectively won. Members can now discuss Charles Dickens without having to bypass the filter. The last time a battle of the censors was successful was when **** was conquered by those in Intelligent Discussion. The News and Updates section has recently been taking a lot of hits from members uprising over lack of news and invasion of fan dubs. However this appears to be calming down now as invaders vanish left right and centre into the abyss of silence. Lastly it appears the Departure Lobby has become THE section to be seen in, with members leaving for personal, educational, social and a multitude of other reasons we can only salute and wave as they walk into the proverbial sunset. With some members leaving as many as five times a month, this section has become a regular hotspot of activity. And now for the weather With **** storms on the horizon the best advice is to take cover and stay indoors. Also predicted are showers of emotions coming in on a strong wind from the west and with temperatures rising it looks like things could be getting hot. Thats all for now, we shall keep you updated
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I'm writing this because I feel like writing it, got a problem with it? Stop reading now. KHV, what can I say? You're one of the biggest hell holes I have ever come across in my life. The members are ******s to one another, pretty much everyone has some form of superiority complex. Gigantic egos are a requirment if you want to join. Everyone seems to hate each other and it is like an endless competition to hurt and insult as many people as you can. To be honest this site is so far gone that it is nothing more than a decomposing, decaying sad testament to what it used to be. This isn't activity, this is what happens when a decomposing object gives off gases. However, this place has been there for me through some really ****ing hard times in my life, and I have met some incredible people, some of whom are now better friends than people I have known irl for my entire life. Some of you have become like family to me. Yes activity is slow, yes boredom is massively high, and yes sometimes we don't all see eye to eye, but you, just like me, and just like everyone else, we all come back, so many of us have left only to find ourselves pulled back into the abyss. I know others have also found help here when they needed it, and it is amazing how people can pull together in time of need and hardship. To some people this place has become a sanctuary, an escape from the issues they have in their real life, for others it is a place to work out their confidence issues by overpowering a smaller noob (don't pretend that you're innocent, we've all been there), or a cure for boredom. Of course there are those who are genuinely here for KH news (on the rare occasion we get it). I have seen so many members come and go, and I am actually embarrassingly proud of a hell of a lot of you because I'll be honest, some of you were complete noobs when you first joined, but for the most part you've grown up and matured. This place has taught me a lot, and the things I have learnt here have actually helped me irl to an extent. Basically, what I am trying to say is, KHV, sometimes I really hate you, but damn, I wouldn't be without you. So, here is to you KHV. <3
Ok, this is a suggestion that has been discussed a few times, and yes I know it has been rejected before, but hear me out. Can we please uncensor dick? Mainly because more than a few times I've been talking to someone, or seen someone else talking about the author Charles ****ens, and it either censors half his name out, or people have to bypass it. I'm not asking you take the entire censor list off, but to be honest it is a word rarely used on the forums so it isn't like removing it will damage the eyes of the innocent, besides, the majority of people who do use the word to be negative or insulting will bypass the filter anyways. So, are you going to make me break out the puppy eyes or what? 'Cause I'll do it. edit: my point is proven in this post -_-
[I have a scroll button thing on my mouse, I just noticed that if you scroll it back and forth really fast, it looks likes everything is bouncing, only the background moves slower than everything else. This has been your information alert of the hour, Love, CtR] Miaow
It has been a long time since I uploaded anything creative writing wise on this place, heck its been a long time since I have been this active on this place. I write a lot as some of you know, but a few months ago everything I was writing was being given such **** poor reviews that I just stopped sharing any of it. Except I've learnt that if you don't share, you can't get advice, so here, have this, and be brutal <3 Spoiler Treasure Hunt The woman patted her greying hair in its neat bun and smiled fondly as she ran her fingers through the treasure that lay before her. Humming a song to herself she carefully scooped the precious pieces up and deposited them in the ornate wooden chest that lay open in wait at her side. Task finished she closed the lid with a reassuring click and locked the small delicate padlock that sat snugly on a worn handle. The key, small and silver, was hidden in its home inside a pin cushion inside a sewing box inside a drawer inside a cabinet before the chest itself was put away underneath an elegantly furnished dresser. Still humming the same tune to herself she walked with careful steps out of the room, wincing as her joints ached she made her way to a small (albeit comfortably furnished) living room where she eased herself into a worn looking armchair, flicked the TV on and promptly fell asleep. She didn’t notice the staring eyes that watched her from the staircase in the hall. Didn’t notice the way those same eyes positively gleamed as they registered the signs of sleep in the gently snoring woman. Two pairs of eyes, one bright blue and inquisitive, the other pale green and curious. Two pairs of eyes in two faces, cheeky faces, with wide smiles and with a splash of freckles across button noses, that hinted at an unknown mischievousness. Anna and Mickey were siblings, twins to be precise. Aged 7 (and 3 quarters!) and five times their age in inquisitiveness. Like small birds that hunt for the tiniest crumbs in the middle of winter, these two never missed a thing, and one thing they had definitely noticed was the chest that was kept in their grandmother’s room. Since their eyes had first picked up on the shiny lock they had spent their weekly trips to their grandma’s waiting for the moment she would fall asleep so that they could hunt for the desired key. So far they had been unlucky in their searching and had only uncovered ribbons, clothes, a collection of hair pins and an underwear drawer that had left Mickey disgusted and Anna in fits of giggles. This time however, they had paid extra special attention to what the old woman did. They crept down the stairs painfully slowly desperate not to creak even a little; after all, it had been bed time an hour ago at that point Carefully, ever so carefully they crept past the living room, their little hearts missing a beat as their grandmother moved. For one long moment they thought they were done for, for one long moment their heads were filled with a million excuses that they could use to explain why they were stood in the hallway, but luckily for them she turned over in her sleep and soon the sounds of her gentle snoring filtered through to them once more. Breathing deep sighs of relief they continued to creep across to their grandmother’s bedroom. With one glance backwards to check the old woman was still sleeping, they almost ran into the room, lightly skipping over the floorboards that they had learnt would creak when pressed upon. They shuffled over to the cabinet that looked at them innocently as though it had nothing to hide; little fingers grasped the brass handles as the decorated doors were pulled open in eager anticipation. Searching hands pulled at drawers that fit snugly to the side. Searching hands found the pretty wooden sewing box decorated in scenes of mothers and daughters content in the art of embroidery. Two pairs of eyes lit up with anticipation and almost disbelief as they found a small fluffy pin cushion. Two pairs of hands fought to claim the prize. Fingers tugging at the edges of the cushion they each pulled in their own direction until the fabric ripped and both little monsters fell back with a thump as the silver key fell through the air towards the floor. Freeze-frame as two small hearts are barely beating, as eyes are glued to the path of the key as it spirals down to the ground on a small white ribbon, as ears are focusing on the snoring from the living room, both terrified that it would suddenly stop and the game would be up. Thankfully for them, the terrible twosome was lucky again. Their grandma remained lost in her dreams far away from the reality of the two small adventurers on their quest in the room across the hall. Cautiously they allowed themselves to start breathing again as they got to their feet and hid the pincushion back away in its home. The little wooden box was closed and replaced in the drawer. The drawer was shut gently back in the cabinet. The doors were closed with the slightest of creaks. They key lay glinting in the pale light on the floor, as though it was speaking to the children, “Pick me up!†it was saying to them, “Use me!†it was calling, not wanting to disobey they reached for the twisted metal, grinning at one another as they looked at the destiny that lay in their hands. After all this time, they would finally find the treasure! Together they each held a side of the chest and dragged it out from its home underneath the dresser. Their fingertips ran over the decorated engravings of the box before taking deep breaths and taking hold of the padlock. Mickey solemnly handed the key to Anna, who took it with trembling hands. She held the key above the padlock before slowly connecting the two. Turning the metal the twins heard a satisfying click as the padlock sprang open. Placing it to one side they looked at each other wide eyed in anticipation and excitement. Their hands pushed the heavy wooden lid backwards as the light from the moon outside the window shone into the room in such a way that it fell in spotlight beams directly into the box. They leaned over the box barely able to contain themselves as they thought about what they would do with all their treasure. But something wasn’t right! Where were all the diamonds? Where were all the pearls? And aren’t treasure chests meant to be full of pirate gold? Instead there was a bunch of faded enveloped tied up with ribbon, a photo album decorated with silver flowers, rose petals dried and old. Ticket stubs, a cork, in once corner there was even a pair of baby shoes. What was all this junk? The two were horrified as they dug down deeper hoping that the real treasure lay underneath all of the rubbish but all they found was more letters, pieces of material, a small box which contained a lock of hair and some tiny teeth. At the bottom was a framed photograph of someone who looked like their grandmother, except she had brown hair instead of grey, and smooth skin instead of wrinkles, she was stood with a man who looked like their grandfather, except he was tall instead of shrunken. They were both smiling and behind them was a church. Anna scratched at the frame but even that didn’t seem worth anything to the twins. Muttering to themselves angrily the twins dumped everything back in the box; they locked the padlock angrily and shoved the chest back into place before moodily putting the key away. After all that and the treasure was a box of junk! Their grandmother must have been on to them, clearly she had hidden the real treasure somewhere else, yes, they must be it, they thought to themselves as they made an escape back to their rooms. Next time, next time they would make sure to find the real treasure. Diamonds and pearls and gold and gems and jewels, not tickets and letters and photos and ribbons. Still muttering darkly to themselves they fell asleep into dreams of pirates and adventures, blue skies and the open seas. Downstairs their grandmother smiled in her sleep, dreaming peacefully in kaleidoscopic images of her most precious treasures; her memories.
[Ok and one from Autumn so sue me ¬¬ ] So its been a while. Linkage Linkage Linkage Linkage (lol smiley face) Linkage Linkage Linkage Linkage Linkage Linkage Comments would be lovely if you have the time~
If I could have a moment of your time imma space whoar derp Y[OvO]Y t'woo t'woo
What is the oldest subscribed thread you have in your subscribed threads folder? also, how many do you have? My settings are set so that if I reply to a thread it gets added to my subscribed threads. I currently have 4564 which is a lot less than I was expecting since my oldest one is from August 2007 http://www.kh-vids.net/showthread.php?t=23179 I don't have the heart to unsubscribe from it now xD
Ok, this is probably one of the longest things I have written. I spent two days on it. I am not going to lie, it is pretty ****. I've fixed the things people pointed out to me last night but I am sure there is whole ton of other things that need changing to. So if you see anything then please say, I need to improve. Last night I got pretty down because one person was very insulting about my writing, it completely knocked my confidence down, but I have decided I need to grow a thicker skin and stop letting negativity for the sake of negativity get to me. Anyways, enough rambling, I've put it in spoiler tags because it looks less messy that way. If you do read it then please comment <3 comments are love and I need them. Spoiler Thirty Nine Daisies It was a beautiful morning, the kind that comes very rarely and surpasses just about every other. The sun rose gracefully, slowly, washing the sky in a flood of different colours and hues. The silver tint of the dying night leading to pale blues and vivid pinks, fiery reds and oranges as the sun said good morning to the world. The soft rays drenched the top of the trees in colour, rising higher to soak into the grass of a small clearing, the daylight spreading across the ground like searching fingers to the edges of a small silver pool, before finally settling to shine down on Sirena Dancer. The gentle rays of light illuminated her lovely face, and lovely it truly was. Sirena was the kind of pretty that made you stop and look twice; she had full lips accompanied by a wide smile, cheekbones that a model would be envious of, and eyes that were a mix of blues and greens, almost similar to the sea. Her tall frame was graceful and slender and she moved like her name, her limbs always poised on the edge of some dance to a song only she could hear. She sat on the edge of the water her feet bare and swirling in the shallows whilst her hands worked on turning the bunch of daisies in her lap into a long chain. She paused, glancing up at the lightening sky and sighed happily with the air of one fully content. Her fingers trailed through the mass of waves and curls that was her honeyed colour hair lightly working a knot out of a small lock before returning to work on her daisy chain. She checked the delicate silver watch that decorated her slender wrists, he would be here soon. Today Sirena was meeting with her lover to celebrate their fifth year as a couple. She added another daisy to the chain, each new flower representing a different memory of her relationship. The first flower in the chain represented their first meeting. The First Flower: It was a Sunday afternoon when Sirena’s mother sent her into town to buy ice-cream for desert, she chose to walk taking the chance to enjoy the late summer air before it faded completely into the approaching autumn. She wandered along lost in thought swinging her bag backwards and forwards as she went humming along to some song within her mind. Backwards and forwards her bag swung, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, backwards and connection. Pause. Sirena turned around found herself face to face with Michael Rose. Their eyes connecting, she was the one who looked away first, the faintest traces of a blush gracing her pale skin. She had apologised for hitting him with her bag, he had laughed and told her it was ok, he should have been looking where he was going better. They had walked the rest of the way into town together before parting at the ice-cream parlour, but not before Michael had taken Sirena’s number joking that it was the least she could do after bashing him with her bag. She splashed her toes happily in the water, the noise breaking the quietness of the morning; breaking it but not disturbing it. Birds continued their roles in the dawn chorus perhaps thinking that the strange human who sat on the waters edge was one of them as she hummed along with their melodies. Graceful fingertips touched her lips as she bought her hands to her mouth brushing away a stray hair that had fallen loose from the locks tucked behind her ears. The Fifth Flower: Sirena looked out of the ice-cream parlour window looking for Michael, it was their fifth date. Since meeting for the first time a little over two weeks ago the pair had been inseparable. She checked the clock on the wall; the hands were shaped like mini ice-cream cones that ticked around almost teasingly. She willed them to move faster glaring at the smiley faces that decorated the clock face so intent on watching the seconds that she didn’t register the ‘ting!’ of the bell over the door, nor did she sense the presence behind her until a long stemmed carnation appeared in front of her eyes, the yellow petals frilled edged and perfect. She smiled and turned around to greet Michael, his fingers traced her jaw line before tucking a random curl behind her ears. Later that afternoon as they shared an sundae sat in one of the booths he had wiped away a faint trace of toffee sauce from the corner of her mouth, tilting her chin upwards before leaning down and kissing her full on the lips. Their first kiss. Sirena smiled to herself as her fingers worked through the shrinking pile of stems and flowers, brushing away stray petals from her skirt. She picked up one particularly long stemmed daisy, its petals tinged with deep pink, she twirled it between her fingers wrinkling up her nose at it before taking one of the petals between her fingers and pulling it away. She watched it twirl to the grass as it spun in the breeze. He loves me...he loves me not...he loves me... The Twelfth Flower:...he loves me not...he loves me. Sirena smiled widely as the final petal slipped to the ground by her feet. Warm hands covered her eyes from behind as she felt soft lips brush her ear “Guess who” “Hmmm I don’t know, you’ll have to give me a clue!” “I’m offended by that.” “Is that your idea of a clue?” “Then how about this?” The whispering mouth moved lower trailing kisses down her neck as the hands moved themselves from her eyes to wrap around her waist. “Happy six month anniversary.” Sirena stretched her arms, yawning lightly and wriggling her shoulders in the still rising sun. She set aside the daisies and stood up reaching her arms up towards the sky. She took a sip from the bottle beside her as she stepped out of the water and stood on the mossy grass, her toes pointed as she twirled around. Sirena glided around the clearing twisting into the breeze and bending this way and that her hands moving and changing direction as she danced. She spun in the morning light around and around and around her arms outstretched from her sides as her face soaked up the warmth from the early morning sun. Round and round she spun The Seventeenth Flower: “You’ll make yourself dizzy if you keep spinning like that!” Michael told her as he watched her spin. “No I won’t, you forget I’m a pro.” “You’re making ME dizzy spinning like that!” Sirena laughed as she spun, each rotation she snuck a glance at Michael as he leant against an old cracked fence post watching her. They had spent the day at the annual fair and were meant to be on their way home but had decided to take a detour and go through the corn fields alongside the river path. It was early evening, still light enough to see but with the kind of glow that come from approaching night. Sirena carried on spinning until rough hands caught hers and caused her to stop. Her balance distorted she stumbled and the pair fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs and wheat. “You did that on purpose!” she accused him with mock anger, he grinned and poked her shoulder, “So what if I did?” he asked in mock defiance. “You’re so mean to me!” “Oh what lies are these?” “Bully!” “Yeah well, you have candy floss stuck in your hair!” The random timing of the statement made them both laugh as Michael tried to untangle the sticky sweet pink mess from Sirena’s hair. Their fingertips brushing he took her hand. “You know, I’ve wanted to say something for a while...” “Is this the part where you tell me you are a transvestite named Sven?” “Yes, yes it is, and I am leaving you to marry a man called Consuela” “I knew it!” “Sirena?” “Yes?” “I love you” “I love you too” They had stayed there watching the sky grow darker until they both realised they were meant to be home an hour earlier. They laughed as they ran down the lane towards their homes, holding hands and happy in love. Sirena leant back until she was lying down in the still dew-fresh grass. She put her hands up to shield her eyes from the early morning sun as she watched clouds float across the sky. She formed pictures amongst the cotton wool with her imagination smiling to herself as one cloud took on the characteristics of a rabbit grazing on a plant. The Twenty First Flower: “I don’t know, it looks more like a dog to me” Michael said ponderingly “Are you kidding me? How many dogs do you know that look like bunnies?” “Hey you didn’t say it had to be based on REAL animals and objects, only that I had to use my imagination!” “...smartarse.” “And you love me for it.” “That is beside the point!” “I love you.” “I love you too.” They were lying in the grass of a small clearing that they had found the previous day whilst hiking. It was peaceful, almost dreamlike and the perfect place to camp for the night. They had woken early to watch the sunrise. Sat cocooned in blankets as the sky raced through a thousand colours they stayed watching until the day shone blue arguing over the forms the clouds took. Tentative kisses and shy fingers they made love for the first time amidst the dew. Sirena danced her way back to the daisy chain at the waters edge. She sat back down taking a sip from the bottle of water she had with her before checking her watch. She could barely believe that it had already been five years. She closed her eyes and pictured Michael’s face the way he smiled and the way he sang in the shower in the morning. The way his hair never did what he wanted to and always stuck up more than it should at the back no matter how many products he used and no matter how many times he smoothed it down. The Twenty Ninth Flower: Michael raised his hand to flatten his hair, the back still sticking up; he glared at the mirror blaming his reflection for messing up his style. Sirena shook her head and smiled to herself as they got ready. Finally done preening himself Michael helped Sirena into her coat kissing her gently on the forehead as he brushed her hair aside. Outside he helped her into his father’s car before he drove them to the restaurant, “I’ll have lasagne please and my girlfriend will have the chicken risotto.”, he hadn’t even needed to ask her what she wanted knowing instinctively what her choice would be. They gazed at one another in adoration over glasses of wine and a three course meal. They knocked glasses celebrating another year together. It was their third Christmas together. A gasp from a startled fellow diner caused them to break out of their bubble as they glanced up to see snow falling outside the window. They walked home leaving footsteps in the icing sugar scattering of snow that covered the pavements whilst they caught snowflakes on their tongues. Sirena sat up slowly her eyes lost in past memories. She threaded another daisy into the chain absentmindedly bringing the total to thirty three flowers. She had more memories than daisies, she had more memories than there were daisies in the clearing let alone the ones that remained in her lap. Six daisies remained waiting patiently as she twisted the thin silver band on her left ring finger. The Thirty Third flower: She had awoken to find her room covered in flowers. Carnations to be specific. Yellow and perfect. She rubbed her eyes almost expecting them to vanish with blinking, they didn’t. she got out of bed and walked over to her dresser finding a handwritten note, ‘Good morning princess’ she smiled and went downstairs following yellow carnations that decorated the floor and were strewn around. Hearing noise in the kitchen she walked in to find Michael at the stove making pancakes, he turned around and smiled at her before pulling out a chair at the table. She sat down as he put a stack of pancakes in front of her. The syrup on the top spelling out the words “Marry Me” she turned around to find him on one knee holding out a ring. Her fingers worked the daisy chain almost on their own as she thought through a million memories all circling around her mind and clamouring for attention. The memories that she didn’t want to face surfaced unbidden. The Thirty Sixth Flower: They were driving, both singing along to some love song that was playing on the radio. It was a warm evening and they were on their way to the ice-cream parlour. It had been a long time since they had been there and on a spur of the moment they decided to revisit the place of their early dates. They stopped at a red light waiting to go. Red flashed to amber, amber flashed to green. Michael pulled off at the same moment a speeding car raced through its red light straight into them. There was a sound like glass splintering and the crunch of metal as they spun around and around collecting another car as they went before coming to a stop with a crash into a lamppost. Sirena wiped away a tear that was threatening to fall from her lashes. The crunch of metal and glass echoing through her mind. The Thirty Seventh Flower: The noise of sirens, the noise of people screaming, somewhere the noise of something was hissing. Sirena came out of a foggy daze the sound of ringing rushing in her hears. Almost perversely the radio continued to sing out love songs, “Michael?” There was no answer, she coughed on smoke and dust, and it hurt to breathe, “Michael? Michael are you ok?” No answer, she turned her head to the side, her right arm hung awkwardly and useless at her side. Michael was still unconscious, a thin trail of blood snaking its way from his forehead down to his neck. She traced the scars on her arm lightly. She barely remembered the physical pain of the crash now but it had left her with half a dozen silvery scars along her arms and one at the base of her neck. The Thirty Eighth Flower: Beep...beep...beep... the machine beeped away next to the bed. Each beep was a reassuring sound meaning an extra moment of life, an extra moment that he was ok. Sirena sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair at the side of the hospital bed. She hadn’t moved from the spot except for bathroom breaks and the occasional cup of coffee since she herself had been released. Her arm was still in a cast but the doctors said she had been lucky. Michael had not been so lucky; he was still now in intensive care. The only thing that kept Sirena going was the beep...beep...beep of the machine. Sirena picked up the last remaining daisy from her lap. She supposed it was fitting that this would be the last one in the chain. Carefully with perfectly manicured nails she pierced the stem and threaded the daisy into the chain. She set the spiralling chain down on the ground beside her and swallowed down the rest of her water before standing and facing the pool in front of her. She walked out into the water her skirt becoming soaked, her flesh coming up in goose bumps. The Thirty Ninth Flower: Sirena watched behind a veil of black lace as Michael was interred into the ground. It was fitting that it was raining so hard, as though the sky was crying for him too. The physical pain of the crash was nothing compared to the complete and total pain that gripped her now and had done since his death. He had looked so peaceful as he slipped away even as she had screamed at him to live, to live for her, but the beeping had stopped and there was nothing anyone could do to bring him back. Sirena stood in the rain long after everyone else had left the cemetery. The sleeping pills that she had added to her water bottle began to take affect; Sirena stumbled as she walked into the water landing with a splash. She didn’t fight to break the surface, the calmness of being underneath making her feel like she was flying. She floated to the surface watching the sky, making pictures with the clouds before sleep took over and the weight of her soaked clothes dragged her down to never wake again. It was a beautiful twilight, the kind that comes very rarely and surpasses just about every other. The sun sank gracefully, slowly, washing the sky in a flood of different colours and hues. The flaming tint of the dying day leading to pale blues and faded purples, dark greys and silver as the moon said good evening to the world. The soft beams drenched the top of the trees in silver white, rising higher to soak into the grass of a small clearing, the moonlight spreading across the ground like searching fingers to the edges of a small silver pool, before finally settling to shine down on Sirena Dancer. Tonight Sirena was meeting with her lover to celebrate eternity as a couple.
Today I came across this site, and on this site I found this thread: Linkage I am actually at a complete loss for words, the only thing I can say is holy **** at the lengths some people will go to, I mean ****ing hell, this is just scary. Thoughts?
I actually **** you not. A friend of mine went to Belgium for two weeks to do a project on war photography, whilst visiting the fields she found a bomb shell, and she decided to bring it home as a present for me. Which is fucking awesome. Except, we don't know if it is live or not. So much for rock and postcards, I got a fcking bomb. There is a potentially dangerous explosive sat on my dining room table. I don't know if this is awesome of fucked up.
