a silhouette of a gun [entries|friends|calendar] grace eve [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

(write dziesiec [15 Mar 2008|08:41pm] [ mood | gloomy ] [ music | vienna ] She awoke early in the morning And looked out upon an endless horizon. Her embattled heart beat nervously, yearning To escape the chains which had held her since birth. No smiles, no tears could come to her face As she glanced over her shoulder. No number of miles could ever erase All that she now willingly left behind. She started down the trodden road, Before anyone awoke for the day. If they would miss her tomorrow, She wouldn't know . . . But her childhood sat anxiously on the steps Discontented and afraid. It was a final unspoken farewell. And she pledged never to return.

(write dziewiec [19 Dec 2007|03:55pm] [ mood | pensive ] [ music | california dreaming ]

(2 wrote ↔ write osiem [18 Dec 2007|02:17pm] [ mood | calm ] [ music | your song ] pitter patter pitter patter . . . and it's days like these, upon which the entire house is bathed in shadows and there is no garish reflection to be found, upon which the sky is a uniform grey, and the entire world seems slightly closer to black and white, upon which the air doesn't smell of pollutant gases and all appears a little bit calmer . . .  yes, it's days like these that I love the most, alone in a universe of perpetual equilibrium.

(4 wrote ↔ write siedem [24 Nov 2007|12:07pm] [ mood | working ] [ music | reflex ]

(write szesc [14 Nov 2007|02:01pm] [ mood | apprehensive ] [ music | guns of navarone ]  We lay in the tall grass, staring up into the Heavens and quietly pondering the meaning of life, bees busily transferring pollen, birds buildings nests in nearby trees. Night was beginning to fall, and the setting sun cast the entire sky in a magnificent hue of red. The clouds were illuminated as I had never seen before, as though rhythmically pulsating with vibrance. A broad smile broke his serious countenance. "You know, Grace," he said, still looking upwards at the explosion of nature above us.  "I think God’s talking to us." I could hear the awe in his voice, and I couldn’t help but smile as well. "How do you figure?" I inquired.  Normally I would have expected a deeply philosophical and completely incomprehensible line of reasoning. He liked to sound intelligent, whether or not his words held any truth. Yet this time, it was different. It was as though the world had held out a hand to him, as though he had become one with a universe far removed from traffic lights and exhaust emissions and grocery store checkout lines. "Grace, look at it," he prompted. "Color like that is a direct reflection of the soul; even if you could mix the paints to match it, it could never have that effect. It’s like He’s telling us that there will always be something miraculous about the world, regardless of how much we have to endure. He’s telling us to walk away from the amalgam of all the terrible things that have taken us farther away from personal truth, because waiting for us is a different world, enveloped in the warmth of His love and the colors of nature at its most fundamental. He’s telling us to stop and smell the roses - or, in this case, to stop and watch the sun set." ( by the light of the setting sun )

(2 wrote ↔ write piec [14 Nov 2007|01:25pm] [ mood | pessimistic ] [ music | rocketman ] Tell me where this road leads, tell me for what I am destined. Tell me why everything I have ever wanted has dissipated into dust. Went home early.  The day was just too much for me to be able to take.  Going through one of my depression-exhaustion spells. I'd like to be able to drop everything and tell a story, yet I'm too overcome by the need to sleep and the knowledge that there are hundreds of things I should be doing.   But maybe I'll get around to it... maybe even today.  We shall see.

(2 wrote ↔ write cztery [07 Nov 2007|01:03am] [ mood | stressed ] [ music | wonderland ]

(2 wrote ↔ write trzy [28 Oct 2007|01:38am] [ mood | exhausted ] [ music | ...more persian techno ] ...and I'm hoping for a thunderstorm Why so many entries all of a sudden? I don't know.  It's a new beginning, and you know how new beginnings are. You're always excited to start with a blank screen or page or what not, hopeful in the idea of the finished specimen. And so you work feverishly at first, in a sudden burst of fervor. But it dissipates soon enough. Anyway, I seem to have lost my creative flair. This problem probably stems partly (if not largely) from the extreme exhaustion, yet I am too obstinate to allow myself a normal circadian rhythm. Nonetheless, it is in these dire circumstances that I still manage to find the time necessary to rant and purge myself of professed anger. Perhaps one day I'll find the time to tell a story utterly profound in nature or to take some photographs that actually resemble earthly objects. As for the picture above, it's an image of rubber tubing of some sort. "Life from the perspective of an ugly mass-manufactured industrial tube," as I suppose would be fitting. Ah, but for now, the work that is my incessant plague exasperates me further. ________________________________ There is nothing more beyond the lies and expectations. We have found a truth too unreal to be. We have found our place upon the anguish here. I know there is no way of escape now. I know we can never find a way out. I have sought protection years before And now am lost forevermore. I have seen all and nothing, too. There is no life Intertwined With such fallacy.

(4 wrote ↔ write dwa [28 Oct 2007|01:02am] [ mood | tired ] [ music | persian techno ] the difference between who I am and who I want to be  I am a child, entrapped in a world infused with hatred and malice and greed. I labor intensively to meet the expectations of others.  Yet I wish incessantly that I were somewhere else, because I hate this world more than anyone can imagine. I wish to escape it all. I wish to use polysyndeton and iambic trimeter in everyday conversation. I wish to publish a novel. I wish to have my dreams manifested. I wish to surround myself with those who share my passions... and with those who disagree with me with a fervor that stands equal to my own.  I wish to rid myself of ignorance and to be given the opportunity to feel the light of God in a land untouched by the detachment of humanity.  I wish to live as no one has lived before.

(3 wrote ↔ write jeden [27 Oct 2007|06:17pm] [ mood | melancholy ] [ music | budka suflera ] If only the world could be our fortune teller. If only the lives we live could be frozen upon a screen and edited to match our whims. My presence here is much like your own. My passions burn as remarkably, my hopes are as great. I am a storyteller by hobby, and hopefully one day by profession. My camera and notebook mean the world to me, for life is to be dissected, recorded, analyzed, and deconstructed until meaning can be found. I am Grace. This is my world.

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