Wednesday, 1 July 2015

Prose #3

;fire meets gasoline


You were fire and no one dared touch you.

Not even moths, nor butterflies, nor people who "loved you". Because you were dangerous, yes, far too much. Yes, darling, speak a little, and they would rush far, far away. Yes, darling, they'd run away. Yes, darling, they'd grow afraid. Cause you were fire and fire takes away. Fire turns today and future days into ashes and yesterdays.

You were fire and no one dared touch you.

But I was gasoline and I could only love you.













-Desimandrius

Wednesday, 24 June 2015

Thoughts

Quotes from my High School Diary


I did the thing!

I did the most cringe-worthy thing I could ever do: I reread my high school diary.

Audible Gasp!

Okay, first of all - just to clarify - I never really kept a constant diary in high school and didn't even bother to write everyday. As a matter of fact, I either wrote diary entries everyday for a week or not at all for 4 months. I didn't even actually have a consistent diary notebook. My diary entries were scattered in all different kinds of notebooks (my favorite victims being my math notebooks - and you can probably guess why).

However, I managed to pry out as many of these diary entries as I can from the dusty abyss. And, reading through them, I found some very quotable things that I oddly felt like sharing.



1. Me getting super worried about birds:

December 27, 2013
"I saw 2 birds fly across the ocean, and I got to wondering, and worrying that it might take hours before they see a landing spot so basically they'll have to be flying on for hours nonstop, right? I mean, sure, boats are everywhere too but like what if fishermen drive them away? What if they get cramps or something? What if they grow hungry? I'm just so worried for them and it made me seriously wonder... further into that ocean, would I see a bird corpse? Will those 2 birds get across without a problem or will they become bird corpses in the middle of the ocean?
Sigh. I wish birds loved themselves more and not risk their own lives recklessly flying across the ocean like that. Makes my heart nervous."

2. Me getting my priorities straight:

January 3, 2014 
"Episode 2 of BBC Sherlock Season 3 airs at 4:30 AM on January 6, 2014. 
7:30 AM on January 6, 2014 is when school officially comes back from holiday break. 
This is a tight spot for me. I have to focus on what's important here. Sacrifices need to be made. And because desperate times call for desperate measures, I have decided to maybe stop going to school forever so I can fawn over BBC Sherlock till the end of time. 
Oops. Sorry mom?"

3. Me hoping that I was secretly in a romcom:

May 19, 2012
"I find myself in a cafe (the only one in my undercivilized town), The clouds have covered up the earlier pleasantness of the sun-kissed sky and here now falls the little drops of rain, making little splattering sounds that the cafe's TV desperately tries to drown out. 
I figured I was waiting for something. I don't really know what - or who, but there was something missing in this cafe setting I'm currently in. The rain fits. The coffee fits. The sandwich fits. And me pretentiously writing in a cafe with a coffee and a sandwich while it's raining outside fits perfectly. I've seen all of it before 
But, something's just missing! My writing instincts are mad! Must fix! Bad story! Not detecting: love interest. 
Oh. 
Yeah, that's what's missing here. A him. A perfect guy with great hair who writes as well and understands the world like I do who accidentally meets me in a cafe on a rainy day. Like, I can see it: he'd have been biking around the neighborhood when the rain catches up to him so he ducks into the nearest building he could find and he's all soaking wet and dripping all over my table nearest to the door and I get mad and lalala~~~ ROMANCE~"

3.5  Me realizing that I wasn't secretly in a romcom:

May 19, 2012 
"I'm waiting for fate, I guess. A chance at having something with the slightest more intensity than my boring life. But I've done this before. He never comes. I always and only ever hope, but I never get to meet him. Sometimes I think maybe he's dead or disabled or a hundred miles away and I get mad at everything keeping us apart like the ocean or a car that probably ran him over while on the way here to meet me. Rude.
But then, soon enough I get to the realization that maybe this is my fate. Maybe I don't have a him. Maybe my future is to sit here waiting forever for nothing. Maybe I'm just fated to be alone. 
Oh but sod that. I'm thinking positive here. He's just... dead or something! He died now. Poor thing. Didn't even get to meet me, his soulmate. Love you, hon. R.I.P. <3"

4. Me using strawberry-choco ice cream as a metaphor for growing up:

December 19, 2013 
"I also bought ice cream today. Two flavors in one, very exciting. It was strawberry and chocolate... and it was horrible. Oh my god. Is this what growing up is like? Does growing up mean hating ice cream or is this thing just really bad for everyone?! I'm so worried. I don't wanna hate ice cream. Come on, I'm like 8!"

5. Me actually thinking of growing up:

June 12, 2013 
"My point is, maybe growing up is seeing that no matter how big we become, somebody will still bury us under the earth. So we stop being excited about the first day of school, or really just anything going on around us. We just wait for that day, and wonder how it will go, if it’ll be peaceful, or sudden, or slow. As we grow up, we stop caring about Science and Literature and Mathematics, because who cares? It’s not like lines and cylinders will save us when it’s time we must leave and be forgotten.  Maybe growing up is realizing that all we’re really doing is dying."

So, that's about it for now!

Sorry to end it on such an existential note (oops). I might share more of these because my diary entries really crack me up.

Man, I had lots of weird thoughts!

-Desimandrius

Drabble #4

The Night of the Sentinels


(A/N: This drabble is set in the KRP Murderworld)
There was something about tonight.
There was something in the night air - it seemed colder than usual. Even if his ally Heron argued that they shouldn’t make such a big fire for camp tonight, Qiu insisted they should because the night oddly had him chafing his hands over the arms of his jacket. The hairs on the back of his neck rose after every wave of the cool breeze and the feeling prompted Qiu to be more cautious tonight.
There was something about how the night sounded - or, rather, how it didn’t. The chirping of the crickets, the croaking of the frogs, the constant rustling in the forest of the various predators that inhabited the island with them - they were all… not there. The night was silent… peaceful, almost.
And that worried him.
The night worried Qiu so much that he decided to survey the area around him and Heron’s campsite for the second time. His nerves were just telling him something tonight and wouldn’t let him get to sleep. They vibrated in his skin as he explored the forest, like they were looking for some kind of thrill, or preparing for some kind of danger. Qiu’s instincts told him that tonight wasn’t going to be a normal night.
He was just about to find out why.
A sharp pain to the side of the neck, an electric pulse sent through the transmitter before an audible sigh is heard through the speakers. The screen isn’t utilized this time, just the speakers scattered throughout the arena.
“Oh, fuck,” Qiu cursed, as he realized what was happening. “Fuck,” He quickly reached into his jacket pocket for a lighter and was ready to click a flame out at any time. He looked around him. He was deep in the forest. Trees that could harbor all kinds of dangerous shit surrounded him. “Fuck!”
There’s a pause before a voice speaks.
“As much as I appreciate the formation of alliances, the activity has been quite dull. It seems as if all of you have forgotten the objective of this arena, such docile activity and loyalty is plainly speaking — boring.
Heron. Shit. She was all alone. Like a reflex, Qiu’s feet immediately sprinted to her direction. Arcade better not fucking touch her.
“Hence, in order to remind you all, I have decided to send in a few companions. I would recommend playing nice, but I doubt they could comprehend such a command.
The cold wind bit at his face as he ran, his hand still tightly clutching the lighter. What kind of bullshit was Arcade planning this time? Doesn’t he ever grow tired of being such a piece of shit all the time?
“Kill or be killed, only the strong will survive.”
“Coward!” He screamed at the sky, still running to Heron. He knew Arcade heard. “If you’re so strong why don’t you come at me! Come on! Douchebag!”
When the robot dog stood in front of him, Qiu screeched into a stop, and once again, he was reminded that it was never really a good idea to curse at the very psycho that was running this place.
He clicked the lighter on, eyes fixed on the… creature in front of him. Qiu wasn’t sure what it was. It was metal, but its movements were light and it moved just like a wolf, but more sinister, and Qiu was certain it was also more dangerous. Qiu followed it with eyes as it encircled him, he noticed something on its side: 007 - those numbers were engraved on it and Qiu would be damned if he knew what that meant.
The flame that was initially on the lighter was now in every cell in Qiu’s body. The looked like feathers on him - a visible aura… of anger, of power.
Qiu watched it stop. He mimicked the move. It crouched. Qiu executed his battle stance: He stood firm on the ground facing the robot, right foot forward and both burning fists raised up to his chest. It lunged forward, its mouth open and in that moment, Qiu realized that it wasn’t a robot dog at all. It had sharp metallic incisors that, aside from looking like the blades that would deliver him his death, also very greatly resembled the teeth of wolves.
Qiu gathered all his strength to his right forearm and flung the mechanical wolf as far away from him as possible. And then, he willed all the fire from his body to run to it and swallow it, but Qiu heard no familiar wailing and what the fire spat out wasn’t burnt bones and ashes, but the same exact thing - but now…also on fire, and running towards Qiu once again. “Oh, fucking HELL”
He sprinted away as fast as he could. Looking around, he focused on converting his adrenaline into a plan that won’t get him killed. He also just realized that he was still running towards Heron’s direction which meant that - unless she had already been devoured by one of these metal monsters - he wasn’t just facing his death, he was also forcing Heron to face hers.
He pulled the lighter out again and created a flame. He threw wide boomerangs of flames around him, causing every tree he passed by to be sliced down to the ground, some of them even piling up. This would hopefully slow the metal wolf down. When Heron and his campsite was on sight, he stopped running and focused on finding anything that he could make into a barricade. He summoned every animal he sensed nearby with his flames - birds, foxes, wolves - he threw all their dead bodies at his mechanical enemy but everytime it stumbled, it resiliently got back up on its four feet.
But, Qiu, found his chance when he spotted a thick tree on the robot wolf’s path. He tried to slice it with fire immediately, focusing so much on getting down just in time. “Ugh!” He grunted, using all his energy to strengthen the fire he directed at the tree’s base.
As the precious seconds passed, the wolf neared and the tree neared to being cut down, until finally, the wolf was right below its range and Qiu, for the love of all things holy, finally succeeded and the tree trampled the metal thing into the ground.
His breathing was labored when he finished. That thing was probably done for. He scoffed as he walked back to their campsite. “That all you got, Arcade?” he said and stuck his tongue out at the sky.
And honestly, Qiu’s starting to hate himself now for never learning from his mistakes because right after he bad-mouthed the creator, he heard what creepily sounded like metal from behind him. And, looking back, his suspicions were confirmed. It was that damn metal bitch.
“Fucking. HELL!” He shouted before running again - as fast as he could - to where Heron was.
There was certainly something about tonight.
It was the Night of the Sentinels.


















-Desimandrius

Friday, 20 March 2015

Drabble #3

The Thing About Dating an 18-Year-old


The entire week had been shit. School was – naturally – physically, emotionally, mentally, and socially exhausting, and when I actually had the time out from pop quizzes and fake classmates, my parents just had to utilize those moments to nag at me for whatever random reason they thought about. Not to mention, my mom’s Mazda broke down so, for a whole week, I had to be dropped at school with my dad’s 8-year-old minivan that he really loves but I – and most probably the rest of the world as well – don’t.

But the thing about dating an 18-year-old was that, as the sun was starting to set on a Friday afternoon, he’d be standing outside your door, leaning on his ancient, rusty red pick up truck while he spun the keys around his index finger with the same old crooked grin he wore the last time you saw him.

“Can I steal you away for a ride?”

“I don’t know, can you?” I smirked, trying to play hard to get though we both knew that I was already all caught up in the complete work of perfection that is Lucas Carson. But I don’t mean perfection as in the tall, dark, and handsome type. He was dark, yes, but we were almost the same height, and he wasn’t what most would perceive as handsome, but he was for me. For some reason, I adored his dark hair that never seemed to stay in place, and I loved the way his lips looked dry and chaffed all the time because he wasn’t a fan of hydration, and I think it’s cute how his teeth are still crooked even though he spent most of middle school with gigantic braces. He was my kind of perfect, I guess.

“Well,” he said. “I did just text your mom that you can’t come home for dinner tonight because you were going on a roadtrip”

My eyes lit up. “Roadtrip?”

He opened the car door and it creaked but still he motioned for me to get it with his head. “Get in”

“But I’m wearing a track suit right now. And my bunny fitflops.”

He shot me an impassive expression. “Do you honestly think I care, Kathryne?”

I laughed.

***

The next thing I knew I was poking my head out one of the tinted windows of that old, rusty red car – the cold wind on my face, the sense of freedom in my heart, and Lucas Carson trying to scream into my ear that I shouldn’t poke my head out of car windows.

“You sound like my dad,” I told him.

“I sound like the adult that I am,” he corrected.

I scoffed. “You’re eighteen.” I turned to him to give him a glare. “We’re two years apart, Luke”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t go around poking your head out car windows,” He smiled, obviously so proud at how maturely he answered that question.

Whatever.

I pulled my head away from the window and crossed my arms, pouting. “Fine”

The thing about dating an 18-year-old was that after 15 seconds of pouting and deciding that you want to hate him for the rest of the evening, he’d blast your favorite band in his low-tech, 90’s car stereo, and the next thing you knew, you’re singing along, and he’s singing with you even though he barely knows the words and you’re laughing at each other because guitar solos aren’t supposed to be sung but you sang it anyway and it was more accurate than any other part of the song you’ve sung so far.

***

“Where are we even going?” I asked.

Luke has been driving for hours. It was already dark and he still didn’t tell me where he was taking me out for dinner. It better not be anything fancy because I sure can’t show up in a 5-star restaurant wearing a track suit and bunny fitflops, most especially not with my hair being this frilly mess.

“I actually have no idea,” he answered. “Pizza, I guess?”

“There are like tons of pizza places in our town, Luke. You didn’t have to waste so much gas”

Wow, Luke.

For an 18-year-old he sure is pretty dumb.

“Yeah, but-“ he trailed off, not speaking again for a long time.

“But what?”

“But I wanted to be alone and this close to you for 2 hours or so”

It’s been 6 months since I wrote “yes” at the back of my math exam results and threw it at him while he was at basketball practice, but I still blush at these little things.

No, it’s not blush. More like completing metamorphosis for a tomato.

I didn’t speak for a while.

“So, when are we getting that pizza?”

***

The thing about dating an 18-year-old is that he’d always pay, and he’d buy like four whole pizzas because he knows how big your appetite is. You’d eat in the car, even though it smells like cheese and whatever else his ancestors left in there to rot because you both are too ashamed to be eating four whole pizzas in public.

So, there I was, in that same old pick up truck, betting Lucas Carson that I can finish a box faster than he can, and trying to tell him afterwards that it was an unfair game because he was a guy, he was 18, and he had a huge appetite, which led us to another bet of who can finish an entire liter of Coke first that he ‘purposely’ lost (obviously didn’t. Duh. It was my clear victory) because he felt bad for me.

Ten minutes later, we sit in regret, in the pick up truck, rubbing our bellies and exchanging lame jokes, and laughing because this was our idea of a date.

***

On the way back home, Coldplay was on the stereo. I looked at the stars and mapped out constellations.

Luke turned the music down, like he always did when he had something really important to say.

“Kathy,” he said softly.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks” It was almost a whisper. But I heard it. Even if I didn’t, I could see it in his face.

“What do you mean? You did everything. I was just here”

“Exactly. You’re always there for me”

“Awww,” I teased, poking his shoulder. “You’re always there for me, too, Lukey wookie”

He laughed. I laughed. And then only Coldplay and the wind were making noises.

“But, seriously, though, Kathryne”

“Yeah” I understood. I always did. We didn’t talk about it on a daily basis, but we knew most of all what feelings we held for each other – that’s the thing about dating an 18-year-old.

“Thanks as well, Luke. A lot”

Of all the stars I’ve seen shining that night, none was ever as bright as Lucas Carson.

***

“So”

We found ourselves back in front of my house, leaning on his ancient, rusty red pick up truck with our hands clasped together, which kind of just happened.

“Yeah”

We both looked at our hands and how they just fit, and how close we were at the moment, and how good it felt to be this close.

I looked at him, and I remembered that at one point in time I didn’t even find Lucas Carson handsome, but as I got to know him and spent more time with him, somehow, he became more and more attractive to me, and I found myself drawn to him each passing day, until that day when he stood in front of my house with pizza, saying that he was sorry that Gavin Connors broke up with me and if I wanted to talk he would listen, and all of the sudden, Lucas Carson became the most handsome person I have ever laid my eyes on – not because of what he looked like, but because of who he was.

“I guess I’ll-“ he said.

“See you-“ I continued.

“Yeah” We sighed.

The thing about dating an 18-year-old is that it would take 1 or 2 weeks before you see him again, because he went to school in another town, but another thing about dating an 18-year-old, is that, right after your lips brush, you don’t really mind that much.




-Desimandrius

Friday, 13 March 2015

Announcement

HIATUS

Until Wednesday, March 18
Because of FINALS
a.k.a. my impending doom

Wish me luck? :)



-Desimandrius

Thursday, 12 March 2015

Thoughts

About Thoughts




Being a teenager and a high school student, I'm always doing something highly stressful, and if I'm not, I'm always putting something highly stressful off, and then that becomes the highly stressful thing that I will be doing.

Being young, I always feel like I'm chasing something or that I'm being chased by something - time, perhaps. So many people tell me that my youth doesn't last forever and so if I've got dreams now, I have to act on it and try to make it happen as soon as possible or I might lose the opportunity to do so and the next thing I know, I'm 70 and dying and I still haven't been to New York.

But the thing with me is that I've got so many dreams - too many, probably.

So I've developed a constant now or never reaction to everything. I always think that right now is the only time to chase my dreams because later I'd lose the opportunity completely.

My mind is in a constant state of panic and planning and stress and then suddenly, I've got a billion and one thoughts on everything around me and they are all interacting as a highly entropic society in my head.

I never stop thinking anymore. Maybe that's good but sometimes it just isn't. I need to chill out. I need a cup of coffee and just a cup of coffee - no notebook or pen beside me so I can stress over writing - just me and a coffee and some peace for my head.

Thoughts are great but when it's everything you have and it's making you feel so unsettled, you need to stop having those thoughts. Or put them off at least. Relax. Chill out. Or chill in. Make a blanket fort and stare at the obnoxious dust particles that become visible when the sunlight seeps through the fabric.

You only live once - but I swear there is time for everything. So give yourself a break sometime, yeah?

-Desimandrius

Wednesday, 11 March 2015

Drabble #2

More Awkward Than Awkward But Perfect Nonetheless


There exists only two types of boys: one, the eye candies, and two, the rest of the male population.

James Hampton was not in the first category. He was the type of guy who just accepted natural order and thus, did not care enough to improve his physique in any way, shape, or form. Basically: he looked like a nerd – plaid shirt, black-rimmed glasses, and lanky as a palm tree – but was not a nerd. Surprisingly, he was a drummer in the band, who refused to wear contacts because he was scared his iris would fall off when he took it off.

Weird: that would describe him.

I'd say so because at one point he's joking around in class and another point he's sitting alone on an oak bench in the park like a friendless introvert.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" I asked, as I approached his lonely bench.

He looked up, surprised at first, but his expression softened almost immediately when he recognized me. "No, not at all, Allie,” he smiled softly, to which I smiled back. “Please help yourself with the empty space that's been keeping me company recently," he stated sarcastically. "I'm sure this bench has been dying to get some lady to sit on its face the whole day"

“But it got you instead,” I faked a pout at him as I sat myself down beside him, keeping a fair distance in between us. “How unfortunate,” I added, stroking the bench in mock concern.

“Hey,” he stared at me, a serious expression on his face. “It would be a privilege for this bench to have my butt on its face” He laughed, and his laugh was really funny; it was breathy and broke into small parts, with a lot of heh heh heh’s which was contagious enough to make me laugh along with him for about a solid minute or so.

He adjusted his glasses when our laughter subsided and the silence ensued.

“Why are you even here, all alone?” I asked a little while later, staring ahead at nothing in particular.

“I – uh. I’m just… I’m a bit conflicted, at the moment, I guess.”

I raised at eyebrow at his answer, turning to him for an explanation.

“You see,” he started. “Today, I sorta… kinda… asked this girl out”

“Sorta kinda asked a girl out?”

“I mean, you know,” he faced me. “Well, I guess you don’t actually know since you don’t ask people out, right?”

I nodded once to let him know that I was listening and was just waiting for him to get to the point already.

“You see, I didn’t actually ask her out, like, in person? I mean, I would have, but I’m too scared of rejection, you know? So it was more like… I wrote her a note and snuck it in her coat?” he explained, although it seemed more like he asked a long, complex question. He took a few moments before continuing. “Two hours ago,” he sighed. “And she didn’t call or text or give me the smallest hint to whether or not she likes me too. So, right now, I’m not sure if I just got rejected, or she just hasn’t read the note yet”

I held back a giggle. How cute is it when boys stress over girls and act like girls doing it? Like, seriously, I would have already pinched his cheeks by now had I not been made aware that check-pinching was not in the list of things that inflate a man’s ego.

Instead, I settled for a pat in the back. “Hey, stop over thinking things, okay?” I told him. “She probably just hadn’t read it yet. You’re not nearly that bad”

“Nearly?!” he exclaimed, feigning shock.

I chuckled. “I mean I would totally date you”

“What?”

“H-hypothetically speaking, of course,” I added immediately.

“Oh,” he nodded. “Well, hypothetically speaking, I would totally date you too.”

“Good”

“Yeah”

“So...”

“So…”

“Hmm?”

“It’s getting pretty late now,” he motioned at the sky (which has looked the same the entire day because the sun never knew that England existed somewhere), before he bolted off the bench and shoved both his hands on his coat pockets. “Want me to walk you home?”

I stood up with a grin. “Sure”

It wasn’t a long walk; my house was only about 3 blocks away from the park. As we walked (pretty slowly, I must say), we talked about music and reality shows and how Hitler could have very possibly been satan’s offspring with a human and how weird that could have played on. It felt like we talked about anything and everything before we reached my front door.

I told him my thanks and turned the knob but it was locked. My face dropped. “Guess my parents are out,” I told James, who was still on my front porch because he insisted he won’t leave until I’m inside the door because a wild bear might pop out of nowhere and attack me and he had to video tape the entire thing.

“Don’t you have keys?”

“Right. Keys. Clever thinking, James”

“You know me, always the brain,” he joked and I laughed before rummaging through my coat.

“It should just be here in one of these pockets,” I said, trying to find my keys but instead finding a piece of crumpled paper hastily shoved inside one of my coat pockets.

My gaze immediately went to James, then back to the paper. “Is this…?” I trailed off, but was cut off by James, who suddenly popped out of nowhere, now a few inches from my face.

“Wait!” he put his hands on top of mine to stop my hands from opening the note. “If it is – and I’m not saying that it is – I’m just saying if it is, and you don’t want us to be like that, then we can just forget about this whole shebang and act like nothi-“

“James,” I interrupted him, waving my hands in front of his face.

“Y-yeah, what?” his entire face was redder than a tomato.

I moved my face closer to his. “Shut up”

He nodded, and I could see his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed.

We were so close to each other now. Just a few inches. I can feel him breathe.

And then, I laughed, really loud, throwing my head back in amusement.

He just stood there: puzzled, embarrassed, red.

“This is my shopping list”

I swear he just became a tomato then and there.

I nearly rolled on the floor laughing at his unmoving form as I explained, “I read your note two hours ago. You’re not really that good at shoving things into people’s coats without them completely noticing what you just did. But, you are good at running off. I looked all around for you, you know. Took me two bloody hours”

“Wait, just to be clear, did you come looking for me to reject me or-“

“Of course not, you dweeb” I said, playfully punching his arm.

“Then does that mean-“

“Yeah”

“So, we’re-“

“Yeah”

“Just to confirm, we’re officially-“

“Yeah”

“So, you’re saying-“

“Yes, James, I will go out with you now, god, will you just kiss me already?”

“Okay” he took a deep breath. And after a few moments, “Wait, what?”

I just kissed him, to shut him up, and we just clicked. Like yin yang. He wrapped a hand around my waist, pulled me closer to him. I tangled my hand in his hair, making him jump a bit in surprise but later took it as an encouragement to kiss me more passionately. I felt him smile as his chest rose and fell rapidly against mine. And in that moment, we completed each other. Like yin yang.

We barely pulled away, breathless afterwards. I got my arms around his neck and his arms around my waist, and we just smiled at each other, not speaking or moving for a long moment.

“So,” I murmured, still grinning like mad, my arms still not leaving his neck.

“Yeah?” he said equally as soft, smiling from ear to ear.

“How’d you like to help with shopping?”

He let out a low chuckle as he pulled me into a hug and moved down to nuzzle his head on the dip of my shoulder, which tickled a bit but was a good kind of tickling feeling. “Aliesha?”

“Hmm?” I hummed at his chest.

“At this point, I would do anything for you”



-Desimandrius

Tuesday, 10 March 2015

Thoughts

I haven't picked up my mom's old digital camera for a long, long time. A few weeks ago, a photography activity prompted me to hang out with the little guy again.

I remembered then that cameras were wonderful things, and I'm so glad that the world thought about that one.

Here are some of the photos I took around my neighborhood and in school...










 





-Desimandrius

Saturday, 7 March 2015

Music Corner

ALBUM OF THE WEEK


Album
Rose

Artist
The Front Bottoms

LISTEN

Rating
5/5

Perfect for...
  • Chilling
  • Singing Along
  • Dancing Along
  • Open-Window Car Rides
  • People-watching soundtrack
  • People-judging soundtrack

Comments

ABSOLUTELY PERFECT. This EP made me fall in love with The Front Bottoms. Their lyrics are just so genuine, and their music really has a way of making you want to sing and dance along. It's the perfect mix between indie, rock, and punk. Very unique. When my bestfriend recommended this to me, I think I put it on repeat until the next one or two weeks. It is just SO. PUNK.

Favorite Track: Jim Bogart
Favorite Lyrics: "Since when did 'I wanna hear your voice' not become a good excuse?"
Fun Fact: The EP was named after the drummer's grandmother, "Rosemary."


-Desimandrius

Drabble #1

Lily & Lysander

(Harry Potter Drabble)




"Thanks, Sander," Lily said, after long minutes of laughing the wrackspurts out of herself as she and Lysander laid themselves on the grass.

Lysander adjusted his head to take a good look of his bestfriend. Needless to say, she was beautiful; her flaming Weasley hair matched perfectly with her bright brown eyes; she looked exactly as kind as she is, and as friendly and as welcoming as her warm heart. She may be a little crazy but so was he; they were just equally insane.

"For tricking James into eating those puking pastels?" He finally replied, slightly recovering from all the laughter. “I’ve always wanted to do that"

"No, not just that, silly," Now Lysander’s eyes were glued to her as she laughed and he swore to Merlin that memory was gonna stay in his mind for a long while. She looked so innocent, so happy, so into the moment. He admired the way she broke into a wide smile at just the memory of James puking (which, Lysander would admit, he was disgusted at, at first), life poured into her features, teeth glistening in a wide, slack jawed grin and then there was a crinkle in her eyes that made them sparkle, she was just so beautiful to him.

"For what, then?" If anything, he thinks he should be thankful to her. She understood him so well, and made him know that it was normal to believe in the weirdest things and that it doesn’t make you crazy to stare at supposedly invisible creatures; she was just so kind to him.

She placed her hands on her stomach and stared at the cloudless blue sky before giving him the answer. “For being my bestfriend and playing with me and listening to me when I wanna be heard, for understanding me—" she trailed off, looking somewhat unsatisfied like she knew she could have explained it better. "—and stuff" but then Lysander always understood what she meant, no matter how senseless it was, just as he always understood him.

She turned to her side and smiled at him, strands of red hair sliding down her face. “I just want you to know that I appreciate all of that"

Lysander mirrored her position and pushed the strands away from her face and tucked them around her ear. He smiled as well. “I appreciate you too, Lils" So much.


-Desimandrius