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Thursday, March 1st, 2007
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| Time: | 4:24 pm. |
| Mood: |  indescribable. |
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This is probably the last post I will ever do here. To honour my dishonourable retreat from being sothissalmarien, I hereby proclaim:
This is the first of March. I am eighteen years old. Getdrunkable, pornseeable and habouring great hopes for the future
Goodbye and Thank you.
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Comments: Read 6 or Add Your Own.
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Thursday, January 26th, 2006
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I do think my life is going down the drain. My muses have left me. No physical or spiritual manifestion. I have no Quendi. All I have right now is a 180cm tall death god with a facial expression deficiency and ivory curlers in his hair. I cannot spell and I cannot get out of bed. I am going to fry the BIG EXAM. I am so screwed.
I am also antisocial and trapped. I hate my life. I would rather fight monsters.
Byakuya: You know that this is really a plea for help.
Moi: Fuck you. Fuck off. I don't want to see you ever again.
Byakuya: You are out of it.
Moi: I am out of it.
Byakuya: Chire, Senbonzakura!
Moi: Fuck....so out of it. *dies*
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Comments: Read 6 or Add Your Own.
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Back from Scotland. Didn't buy kilt >.< But saw lots of hot men in kilts >:D Aberdeen. Nice Place. Nice Weather. Nice People. Nice Accents. Nice Architecture. Nice ... Seagulls.
:D:D
Must live there for a while some day.
Edit: Nice Alcohol too. No one IDed me although it said NO UNDER 18's in BIG BLACK Letters outside the bar >:D
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Comments: Read 9 or Add Your Own.
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Off to Scotland for the next week. Payeth not a cent. Aberdeen Festival of some sort.
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Comments: Read 4 or Add Your Own.
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| Time: | 7:59 pm. |
| Mood: |  depressed. | | Music: | Rebel Prince---Rufus Wainwright. |
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Finally able to boot computer, with the help of my computer-genius-cousin-in-law. Downside: lost all previous records of everything. A large portion of my picture files I had shoved up on photobucket and thus escaped this little digital massacre, but the rest, well... God, I am so depressed I can't even spell properly, like that's some excuse. No songs. No previous essays. Kind of like a loss of identity. I so love ff.net right now, just because they have backup.
I lost my little neverfinished sequel to For Maeglin, the only slightly coherent manifest-idril that had ever graced my little grey cells. My neverfinished deep-dark-in-the-forest-are-spirites Daeron fic, the only one where his presence is easily detected, something tracing his origins and his paths in many myths. And I lost my neverfinished Morgoth-Maedhros fic, where Morgoth was a god with ink-drawn brows and in possession of a slightly tipped foot, from where a drop of scarlet dangled unfalling, crystallized; where Maedhros was a ghost-child with a cross-section of an arm and eyelids painted with greyish, typical Noldorin eyes, all fire hidden; where there were black holes and wonderful infinities. I remember that much. It was a story about imperfection(and splintered glass, and drops of mercury rolling off broken mirrors and dust-coated chandeliers and Vardavardavarda). (Perfect, imperfect, plagal, interrupted, he remembered through the eyes of a musician, the eyes of his brother.) Was it like that? like that? I cannot remember like he did.
Is this a divine sign that I should never write fanfiction again? I mourn. Just that it should properly never had seen the light of day doesn't mean that it could be buried in the Information Sea like it has never left. I want it. I want it so much. Didn't remember wanting my own writing so much. Reminded my why I named my computer after the headmistress of my school.
Gawdawful.
P.S. Test tomorrow, haven't revised. Also one project to do. I now proceed to shake my fist at whatever deity watching.
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Comments: Read 6 or Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, April 26th, 2005
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| Time: | 1:14 pm. |
| Mood: |  literally sick. |
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My computer is still completely inbootable. Therefore speaking from school. bleeeeeeeeeragh.
...
...i hate people who have no sense of drama or tragedy and thinks they do. they do they do. NOT.
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Comments: Read 3 or Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, February 15th, 2005
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I do not like Dumas pere. Not one bit.
*kicks Dumas!Louis XIV*
I am so NOT growing up.
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Sunday, February 13th, 2005
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Honestly. I am thinking of changing Gondolin!Daeron into ...
either
or
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Comments: Read 8 or Add Your Own.
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Thursday, February 3rd, 2005
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| Time: | 9:24 pm. |
| Mood: |  exhausted. |
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Once I found a beautiful beach, isolated from the world. I jumped into the sea and splashed and played. Then I looked at the grains of sand. I found them to be like raw stones of gems. I touched them and polished them for many many times, until you can see jewels instead of sand if you stare long enough. I kept my beach secret for months until it was ready, and I brought my friends to see my creation. But they cannot see my jewels, and said "What is this all but sand?" For they have not looked at my jewels for a thousand times, and they could not see.
I was sad, but I did not hid my beach. I let it among the many beaches of the world, and I waited for some who would look at my own little piece of miracle and see it for what it was. But their is none who consider it as dear as the one who had made it, and no one came.
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Friday, January 28th, 2005
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FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK MY ANCIENT COMPUTER WHY CAN'T IT WORK FOR ONCE ONCE ONCE ONCE ONCE ONCE ONCE ONCE ONCE
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Wednesday, January 12th, 2005
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And I had not written anything for Ages upon Ages uncounted. My classmate is trying to stop me from day to day swearing. Which I can hardly resist when her maties drop all their bread and all their crumbs on my drawing book.
*hobbles* *whacks children with walking stick*
Young brats. *shakes head*
Daeron: We are losing it. Finally.
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Comments: Read 10 or Add Your Own.
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| Time: | 9:26 pm. |
| Mood: | exhausted. |
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*is dragged by one haughty elf from the depths of school-hell*
O my god I am fifteen and a half and already so OUT. I sat beside cantopop stars and counted money with them for two hours without recgonizing anyone.
...
On the other hand. Out. *brain-loading* Tired. Don't really care. I saw Indian money and Indonesian money and money from the Bank of Cairo and Italian money and francs and pound notes and RMB and German notes and Hong Kong money and Argentine money and Brazilian money and Thai money and piles of Netherlands and New Zealand and Australian and Great Britain coins, and Euro and Japanese money and they were all touched by me and I felt I touched a bit of the world. My hands smelt of currency. Soap. They still do.
Strange. Not one whim of desire for the pile of foreign moneymoneymoney. Some curse on volunteer workers, I think. Or blessing. Crumpled papers.
What pointless crap.
*slips back into school-hell*
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Comments: Read 3 or Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, December 28th, 2004
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| Time: | 12:34 pm. |
| Mood: |  frustrated. |
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world is fucking ending. not even appealing to the geographer part of my mind. >.
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Sunday, December 26th, 2004
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1. Comment and I'll pick one of your LJ interests and draw you a picture, using MS Paint... anything I can think of.
2. You have no say in what I draw you! Or in how much it will suck!
3. Put this in your journal. And the pic someone drew for you.
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Comments: Read 19 or Add Your Own.
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| Time: | 10:35 am. |
| Mood: |  mellow. |
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Merry Christmas.
Mwahuahuahuahuahuahuahuahuahua.
Or Something.
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Comments: Read 6 or Add Your Own.
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Thursday, December 23rd, 2004
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The Rule of Four is a good book. everyone should read it.
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Monday, December 20th, 2004
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| Time: | 9:35 pm. |
| Mood: | in despair. |
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It is truly terrible when you had lost something and you do not know what it is, nor can you find it again, however hard you search for it.
It is terrible to be lost within yourself. Daeron said. He is a worm. He slithers away through the nonexistent rain, leaving a trail of mud. And Finrod, who was lonely, came, and smiled. They whirl and whirl away like bits and bits of scrap textbook in a artificially induced storm.
They must hate me.
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Comments: Read 4 or Add Your Own.
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Wednesday, December 15th, 2004
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| Time: | 7:32 pm. |
| Mood: |  blank and uninspired. |
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Thank you people. Not dead yet. But tomorrow we shall know of the results of that goddamn Chinese paper MoA mentioned. What a mess.
Daeron:"You are still not a celebrated writer."
And I had lost him, too. Dreamlike existance.
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Saturday, December 4th, 2004
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| Time: | 11:58 am. |
| Mood: |  quite murderous. |
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Exams. Gone for a while. Pardon Daeron.
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Comments: Read 3 or Add Your Own.
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sothissalmarien's journal
bundle of red hearts.