I read the Bell Jar last night, and I must admit I am in love with it. It's so hauntingly beautiful, and I'd like to think I am somewhat like Miss. Plath in my writing style, but one can only hope.

Anyway, To Do List: [Because I have an awfully lot to do]

Finish my Draco/Ginny fic.

Start my Society and Culture

Extension English

( Read more... )

I am tired.
Because I know how to be.
I am quiet.
Because no one will hear me.
I am alone.
But not quite enough.

I am alive.

So, friday night, home alone, bored senseless. New layout, new profile. [Both the same as my current myspace layout, but you get that]. Uhm. I have nothing really to say, other than I am so glad to be on holidays. Even if they are a ( Read more... )

Can you hear them?
Of course not.
You're not really alive.

And I'm sorry you think you are.

not one letter in the whole entire alphabet would describe me
not even clumsily put together
but i try anyway
i try and try and try and try
it’s never good enough for you
[i’m never good enough for you]
it’s no semaphore secret.
always,maybe,forever,not
i quote and ( Read more... )

i. hate. school.

Practical Art Assigment due next term.

Ancient History speech.
Advanced English essay.
Extension English analytical response.
Photography research task.
Drama speech.

All due next week.

gah.

Anyway, I wrote this a while ago.

It is only a faint whisper of broken wings, just the crisp smell of burning words, the embers of a long ago fire; the ( Read more... )

New layout because I'm bored like that.

I need to write something, my creative juices are running empty; my imagination sprouts no meals and my french windows crumble at the imaginary boulders of others. Worst of all, there is not much I can do about it.

But the point of this was to wish my darling Mikaella a happy birthday. 
May Peter visit you on ( Read more... )

In the darkest night she forms them. In the soft cell of shadows she creases snowy wings and cocks tiny heads. In the depth of mossy water she lines their wings with words, tiny, almost indecipherable writing. In the rustle of pages she straightens each perfect fold. And with the waves lapping around her ankles, she sends them on their way.

She is ( Read more... )

Okay, so I was tagged by  ( Read more... )

I haven’t felt the need to type my secret scrawls upon your pages in a very long time, and perhaps I don’t have the need to now.

But I will anyway.

It’s a New Year, which means a lot of New Things.

But before we can start on the New Year, we must reminisce on the year that’s past.

The end's not near
It's here
Alleluia
Spread the cheer
And watch the ( Read more... )

And there’s loose pages and promises of forever and more
And there’s a smell of yesterday, of tomorrow she’s sure,
And there’s laughter and raindrops and ice creams and wings
And there’s a flower and magic and of their castle they’re kings,
And there’s seven, and dancing, and wishing to fly,
And there’s a soft sort of smile as they set fire to the ( Read more... )

Of my Christmas hall are as follows ( Read more... )