Explanation

Alright, so here's the deal with this journal. If you're looking for an actual journal, go to my BLOG, and you'll find all that stuff there. This LJ is going to be used as a place to put all my writings, even the stuff I don't consider good enough to put up on Mystical Fields (my site. You can find a link on the bottom right there, I think). So here you can read everything, and hopefully find my writing grow into something better, ^^ Feel free to leave comments. In fact, I love comments. So go ahead. ::points to comment button::

Beginning of Story With No Plot or Title or Anything

Alright. I'm just gonna start posting stuff here, ^^ I've written the beginning of this story many different ways, but I like this one the best, and I think it's written the best as well. I know it's kind of unrealistic, but it's a work in progress, alright? And besides, I wrote it after watching Dawson's Creek, if you couldn't tell. Alright, I'll fix it later, I promise! Also note: the moods I have are moods from the story/poem/whatever.

Lanif Garrow walked toward the library with a steady gait. A messenger bag hung from his shoulder and rested on his side, under his arm. Walking towards him was a girl who looked angry. No, a closer look revealed she was crying and trying to fight it back. Lanif looked away to give her privacy, but found his eyes traveled back to her. This girl went to school with him – Timria, if he remembered correctly. Her tears broke free of the frantic rein she had been holding on them and she sat down on hard on the pavement, crying. He kept walking, embarrassed for her, and then stopped in mid-stride. Oh, hell, he thought, and turned around.

“Hey – are you al-“ he stopped, realizing the absurdity of his question. People don’t just collapse on the pavement in tears if they’re perfectly fine. He squatted down next to her. Gave her a sidelong glance. He opened up a pouch of his messenger bag and pulled out a package of tissues. “Here,” he said, gently pressing them into her hand.

“Thanks.” Her voice still wasn’t stable. She wasn’t sobbing any more, but her cheeks were still wet with fresh tears. Lanif studied the ground, following little black ants with his eyes.

“Ugh,” she grimaced, obviously disgusted with herself. She stood up, and he did the same. She blinked, and her eyes narrowed.

“Why did you stop, anyway? What do you want?”

“Uh…I don’t want anything. I just saw you crying and didn’t think I should just leave out here by yourself like that.”

“Oh.” She fell silent.

“So, what’s wrong?” he asked, resting a hand on the railing.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about me.” Lanif searched her eyes, pleading with her to open up, but she refused to meet his eyes. “Well, you better get to the library. I don’t want to hold you up. Seeya,” she said, walking away.

“Hey,” Lanif said, pressing his hand on her forearm, “Don’t just leave like that……” Timria’s eyes widened and then narrowed.

“I’m fine, all right? And I need to get home. So.....whatever. Bye.” She shoved her way past him and walked, one of her hands clenched in a fist. She had taken no more than five steps and she could her him walking behind her. She whirled, irritated.

“What is your deal?! God!” They both stopped walking.

“Okay, so we don’t usually talk, even though we have the same classes. But you were crying like you’re completely alone and hating it. And someone like you doesn’t deserve that. So....here I am.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“...What’s what supposed to mean?”

“Someone like me? And who am I, Lanif? Do you know enough about me to know who I am? Because I sincerely doubt that you do. You’re being a typical male and trying to take advantage of me because I was crying – weak, in your eyes. I don’t need your crap. I don’t need you. And you don’t know me. Now leave me alone.” Now Lanif’s eyes were the ones that narrowed.

“You know, maybe the reason you were all alone and crying is because you don’t let anybody in. Any time somebody shows compassion toward you, you shove them away like you’re doing to me. God knows why.”

“Yeah. Me and God. And that’s it. Why are you so adamant about this, anyway?”

“Me?”

She glowered. “Yes, you.”

“Well, if I don’t press the issue, who will?” Timria frowned.

“No one.”

“Well, all right then. I’m pressing it whether you like it or not. So I suggest you start liking it, because I’m not going anywhere, Timria. Now I’m walking you home and I don’t care whether you want me to or not. You need a friend and if you don’t want one, that’s too damn bad because I’m coming along for the ride. Now start walking.” Surprisingly, she simply pressed her lips together and started walking. The corner of Lanif’s mouth turned upward into a grin, and he started after her.
Timria glanced at him. “Weren’t you going to the library?”

“Yeah, well, I think I found what I was looking for.”

Cool Guy

Okay, so sometimes I just write weird things. This is very, very short, but whatever. I like it, so :P
~*Written on 1/30/01*~

The figure walked in silent darkness over his memories, playing and fading. Moonlight casted two shadows, one on either side of the snow. All three step in unison. The figure looks to find his constellation just for solace, but the stars wear a veil of clouds tonight.
There, but not seen.
Believe, and walk on.

Chad Explanation

Finally, maybe some of you will know what I'm talking about, hehe. Anyway. This is that song that LeAnn Rimes sings (I know Trisha Yearwood sings it better. I don't care. This is the song that made me cry back then). Stuff that in italics is the song. Stuff that isn't is the fic. (Hence, songic :P) The fic part is like, answering each lyric of the song. You'll get it, if you're actually reading it.

::dramatic sappy music::
How do I get through one night without you? If I had to live without you, what kind of life would that be?

I guess I just sleep, neh? I think it'd be a sad life without you. You're a good friend.

Oh, I-I need you in my arms, I need you to hold. You're my world, my heart, my soul. If you ever leave, baby, you would take away everything good in my life.

Well, maybe I don't need you specifically, but I'll admit I need someone. Dang, that last part already happened.

How do I live without you? How do I breathe without you? How do I ever, ever survive? How do I live?

Well, I think about you, I accept what happened. You broke my heart and I'm left with the pieces. You didn't mean to, of course not, you stupid fool. But what do you do with a handful of heart pieces?

Without you, there'd be no sun in my sky. There would be no love in my life. There'd be no world left for me. And I, baby I don't know what I would do, I'd be lost if I lost you, if you ever leave, baby you would take away everything good in my life.

The sun's still there, except when it rains. Not even you can shake my faith. True, I haven't been in love again, but the whole world's still there. I already lost you, so I guess I know what I'd do, huh? Sit and write dumb answers to song lyrics like I am right now.

(Repeat Chorus)
(Repeat Chorus)

You were the stuff dreams were made of. Hell, you were my dream. But Kristy was yours, and you were Kristy's. I guess best friend didn't fit into your schedule, huh? You never cared about me enough to see what you did to me. You broke my heart, Chad. I let you get closer than anyone else. And you never even knew, did you? Well if you did, you probably just didn't care. Haha, no one cares. At least, that's how I feel. You know why? Because I can't trust anyone any more. I can't let people get close like you did because I'm scared as Hell it'll happen again. There's not much you can do about that, is there? I'd ask you what you thought about it, but you'd just get defensive and not know what the hell to say, and you'd tell Kristy anyway. Screw this. I'm going to bed.

~*Written 8/20/01*~

I like this

Obviously I was a little craptastic at the time.
~*Written 9/16/01*~

Her hair hung in her face, as tears wet her cheeks. The room was dark, and she was hugging her knees in the corner. Alone, all by herself. Her wings sagged against her thin back, torn and bloody. You couldn't fly - not with wings like those. It was cold and raining outside. Ironic. Even if she was capable of flying the wind would force her to the ground anyway. Her friends had left, and all the angel had left was herself and her bloody, torn wings.

Poem

This was written for History class. It's a poem I wrote after reading 'Night', by Elie Wiesel. It's about a Jewish boy going to a concentration camp. It makes sense if you read the book, ^^
~*Written 12/2/01*~

Litte Tzipora, it was too heavy for her.
The heavy bundle, slipping, whilst they yelled "faster" and struck the others.
She gritted her teeth and she didn't complain
And it was from then on that I hated them.

From the first night on, it's always been Night.
Children, scared and afraid.
Before, they laughed and they played.
Now I see the smoke. The children.
Drifting up towards God.

Now, here is my father.
Beaten with an iron bar.
Collapsed because he is not strong enough.
It's his fault. He should have known better.

The gallows, the hangings.
"Long live liberty!" they cry, before their end.
The child hung, but still alive. Still fighting.
I wonder why. Why does he fight?

They throw morsels into our midst,
And we descend upon each other like dogs.
Sons, killing their fathers.

My father lying, dying.
I give him water to quench his thirst.
The guard clouts him on the head.
And he dies, I'm free at last.

Juliek, making msuic in his grave.
Notes of purity in the silence.
His life on violin strings,
His audience was death.

Long, long ago, I could weep.
I would talk to Moshe about God.
"You'll find the true answers, Eliezer, only within yourself!"
Man questions, and God's answers are burned in your soul.
His answers are within me. If only I knew how to find them.

Dried, Faded Corsage

All right, I've gone through one journal, ^^
~*Written 7/9/02*~

You stood on my porch with your hand sbehind your back. Smiled sheepishly and pulled out a pretty corsage with a pale pink ribbon in the center. A corsage your mother no doubt bought and made you give.
"Thanks for being my friend," you say. Thanks for being your friend? Should I thank you for all the nights I cried myself to sleep? For wanting to die because of the pain? For breaking my heart? For throwing me away? Gosh.
I've forgiven you. But I just...it still hurts. It's still so unreal. After all this time, I can't accept that you would choose love over friendship and pretty much kill me. The Chad I loved would never do that. I don't think the Chad I loved ever really existed. I never realized how blind you were. How could you not know that I loved you? Maybe you just didn't want to accept it. I don't know. It's been a long time since you severed our friendship. But I still want to cry.

Attn: Live Journal:

Listen - you telling me "my account type won't let me do that" every other time I try to do something isn't going to make me get a paid account. Knock it off. :P