The District of Never Die

Falling through the clouds
on broken angel's wings,
beautiful sorrow.

...
That was my sad attempt at a haiku.
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An angel's eyes and pure feathers in your hair, you must have fallen through the clouds.
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Both inspired by:
  Falling Through the Clouds

 Time to post my responses to some all_unwritten prompts. I have been responding to some, I just haven't done my normal copy pasting them into the journal here. So now, after responding to today's prompt (or, technically yesterday's seeing as it's past 12:00 am), I shall take the time to refill my journal :)
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424 "Graves"

434 Libation

 Prompt 384 for all_unwritten , another picture entry.

     "What a beautiful night," she breathed, allowing her quiet voice to reach him slowly over the sound of her dress grazing across the stone path. Her white dress glowed palely in the silver moonlight.
     "Yes, but wait till you see the church."
      She couldn't believe this was happening. It was just too perfect, too good to be true. He was going to be hers forever and she couldn't believe he felt the same way.
      He smiled his brilliant smile, and scooped her up into his arms. He climbed the stairs slowly but with a deliberate pace, taking his time to reach the next step both in their lives and on the stairs. She pressed her face against his chest, breathing in his sweet scent. The huge wooden door grated easily open in his grip and the church stood open in front of them.
     There were as many candles as the stars across the floor, but all she could look at was him.
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Weeaaaak T_T
I suck at writing romantic stuff.

 Prompt 383 all_unwritten 


     "What the hell did you just give me?" He tipped the blue mug over trying to find any clue as to what this liquid was.
     "It's your coffee!" she hissed.
     "This sure doesn't look like any coffee I've ever asked for. It looks like liquified . . . Oh nevermind, I won't say it, but I want another cup of coffee. And make sure it's coffee this time!" He watched the cafe doors swing shut behind her knowing he wasn't going to get what he wanted when she came out again.
     He couldn't care less about what he drank; it was just so cute when she was angry.

AN ENTRY TO CATCH UP TO ALL_UNWRITTEN, AND TO EXPRESS MY CURRENT REAL LIFE SITUATION.
 
Prompt 376, picture prompt:

     The mushroom ring had taken a hold of her backyard. First she thought it meant something like a mushroom cloud, that the world was going to end if it stayed there, but then her father told her an old legend that the mushroom ring was a gateway into the elfin kingdoms. He said fairies danced in those circles and sometimes, if you were lucky, you could watch them.
     She stayed up that night, lying on her window sill, hope keeping her awake. But hope wasn't enough and exhaustion soon took her small form as she fell asleep. She dreamed of fireflies and fairy rings and dancing with the elves. She dreamed of blue, clear skies, her father's face, and the mushroom cloud. She dreamed of her mother, an angel's wings, and a rainbow. She mostly dreamed of fireflies. They spun around in awkward circles, blinking in and out, their wings beating furiously to keep them aloft. They twisted in tight circles and spun around one another, but never seemed to make a mistake. It was a very delicate procedure, and yet it seemed so effortless. Their forms never left the fairy ring.
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It's awkward and feels unfinished. I was going to say something about the little girl watching the fairies, the fairies finding out and taking her back to their world, and her dad finds her dead in the morning, hence relating it to the mushroom cloud, but I thought that might be a bit too morbid. And I lacked the motivation to write it anyway.
Prompt 377, "tie dyed T-shirt"
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     She read the list out loud, trying to grasp what her sensei really meant when he wrote the words. "Tie dyed T-shirt, nylon string, and some duct tape." Now how the heck am I going to kill a man with those? Stupid eccentric old man.
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I changed it from when I posted it to all_unwritten  At least this way it has a bit more substance than someone reading a list and asking wtf to do now. It's still a stupid and pointless response though.
Prompt 378, "when there's nothing left to do but . . ."
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 Damn sun; you're blinding my eyes.

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For all_unwritten prompt 363, picture prompt.
Short response because it's all i felt like writing, and the glossy eyes of the crab reminded me of a blind person. That is all.


Man, i really need to get back to writing again . . . my poor journal has been neglected for who knows how long now >.<
And this poor responses to the prompts. . . well, at least the sins are over :D

    The little boat tossed and turned upon the raging waters, fighting the low clouds and sustaining considerable damage with each lightning bolt that struck it's tattered bow. The black clouds blotted the horizon in every direction as it fought it's way up another wave, the tiny flag whipping around as the squall pushed the wind into the sails. It seemed that this storm was going to last for quite a while, with no hope of the lighter clouds defeating their more powerful adversaries below. Another wave passed and the boat dropped down to meet the next one head on. As it began the tiresome climb for what seemed like the hundredth time, it felt like this tempest was never going to end.
    And around the little boat went, forever circling the storm on the rim of a tea cup.

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For all_unwritten, prompt 352, a photo prompt. There is a small sail boat on the inside left, but it helps if you have a bigger picture to see it.
I don't really like this one >.< but whatever

    The sounds of home. . . oh the memories they bring to mind. Some are full of joy, of laughter, of stories about the good times. Others are annoying - the crying of a newborn baby, the neighbors upstairs partying late into the night, the smoke detector alerting me to my burnt cake. And, of course, some are sad, like when my mother came crying to me about my father's diagnosis, or when a phone call brought the end of a relationship.
    But all are the sounds of home, and it would not be home without them.

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That was for prompt 345 of all_unwritten, "sounds of home."
and this next one, posted one day late >_< is for prompt 344, "mental illness."
This is the picture that inspired my response, which belongs to lastscionz of deviantART (http://lastscionz.deviantart.com/art/the-Call-of-a-Hero-95321009)


    Her first thought was of how cute the little frog was, sitting on his mound by the pond. Her second thought questioned if she had acquired a mental illness recently as the frog began to speak to her while waving a tiny sword.

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Nice and short :) haha
And now it's time to catch up on my paper journal but I really don't feel like it >.< I just moved into my dorm and there's still a lot of stuff to be done . . .

    This was a wish for luck, a wish for romance, a wish for safe travels, for friendship, for good food and good times. But, most of all, it was a wish for adventure. That was what she wanted most.
    Turning away from the half-naked statue over sparkling water, she pinched her eyes closed and gripped her coin as hard as she could, willing the rest of her wish into the grooves of metal. With one light toss, she turned around to watch her coin break the surface.
    Another wish floated silently to the bottom of the Trevi Fountain.

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that was for all_unwritten prompt 331, a photo prompt if you couldn't already tell. That's a picture taken by lady_aduial of the Trevi Fountain in Rome. When I started writing this, I thought it would be cool to write it from the coin's point of view, but it didn't really work out that way >_< Oh well though, it still works, I think :)

This next one is a response to yesterday's prompt from A Creative Writer's Kit, "I was listening to something I heard before." It's kinda got a sad tone to it, but I don't know if it's depressing o_O Just read it, and you might see what I mean, haha.
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    The playlist played over and over again, the repeat button on iTunes permanently pressed. She thought the speakers might be getting tired of playing the same six songs again and again, but she didn't care. She needed this music, these lyrics in particular. It was her break-up playlist and it was definitely something she'd heard before; she never did get tired of the music though, no matter how many times she sobbed/sang them. It made everything alright, almost even justified the break-up. Two more hours of repetitiveness, one long bubblebath (candles included), and half a gallon of Edy's Chocolate Fudge Chunk ice cream later, she knew she was going to be fine - all thanks to those 6 over-played songs.

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Depressing? Yes/No? Hah, I'm not even sure and I wrote the thing, lulz. Anyways, it's now 1:21 am and I shall be going to bed.

The night sky exploded in front of them, a silhouetted Eiffel Tower blocking the view, but no one cared. They were here to have fun, to enjoy themselves in the shadow of a monument. Crowd surfers passed by on shaky hands, their drinks driving both the surfers and the "waves" to uncontrollable laughter as they rode further and further away from their friends. The crowd danced in the glow of reflected images from the giant plasma screens. Firework after firework came to life and then died, one after another until there were no more. Even after the last of the fireworks stopped, the people still stayed, dancing till they were too intoxicated to stand. Some managed to make it back to their hotel rooms in one piece.
One man stayed, standing in the midst of the crowd, watching. He didn't have any alcohol, nor did he sing or dance with the others. He was just there. He saw the same fireworks, but they didn't seem to have the same affect on him. He heard the same music, but it didn't drive him to dance. He was under the surfers, but his hand didn't go up to help. He waited, and waited, till no one was left. He knew what they'd be doing. He knew their worlds would be exploding one more time tonight, this time without the help of fireworks. And he knew he was lonely.

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My responses sure have been a bit on the depressing side lately >_<
I'm sorry, I'll try to fix that in the next prompt
for all_unwritten Prompt 325


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OMG OMG OMG!!!!! The moderator of all_unwritten lady_aduial actually commented on my response!! ahah! I feel so honored! I can't stop freaking out about it, it's so cool! :D :D Yaaay! thank you so much lady_aduial!!!!!
This is what she said: "I think writing what you feel like writing is therapeutic. Especially depressing things. Good job. Good take."
. . . :D

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In other news!! I actually used my journal today :D the one I bought about a month ago >_<
Yeah I wrote my first entry in there and it was pretty cool. It does take a lot longer to actually hand-write something than to type it out, but hey, that doesn't really matter I guess unless my thoughts are coming too fast >_< haha