A collection of ideas-- My thread for... stuff

[uranusbluedanger1]

I decided to take this thing out because, really, it serves no purpose. If the others served no purpose, this snipplet served no one and nothing.

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

.

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

Writer's block. Again. WHY??!!!

This has been a message from... of course... me.

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

Writer's block. Again. WHY??!!!

This has been a message from... of course... me.

Lol. To those who haven't read it, Serah is a charrie from Deceiving Darkness, as is Megan and Rodney... Ryu and others are part of Cookie.


Ryu.

Four sugar cubes in the bowl. Five in his coffee. Three each in Megan's and Michael's. One in Rodney's. None in Serah's. Nine stacked before him, one pinched between his fingers, two balanced on his spoon, and one fallen on the table.

Ryu frowned, distracted. He'd only let his guard down for a moment after Itso had opened the new bag of thirty, and one was missing. Weighing the temperaments and positions of everyone in the room during that fatal five-second gap did not help.

Next time, panda biscuits, he decided. Lower chance of accidents.

Serah licked her fingers.

Ryu looked up, and smiled, watching her jump in surprise.

It took a very sneaky woman to steal a sugar cube with him around.

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

(Took it out. )

 

[JaK89]

I just noticed that each time something gets posted, views actually do go UP! Wow. lol. If someone actually comes by... HI!!

Okay, so...

kinda bored... kinda stressed...

So, I was asked by Alex to write a small 'chapter' for his story on Xasha Vickosk, the character that is supposively Avi's wife. I think I made things hard on poor Alex. Only the second chapter and already I pulled a twist on him, but since I'm NOT the one who's going to write that WHOLE thing, I gave myself the pleasure of having fun with it...

Chapter title: Destiny is a little girl that likes to play with dolls.

"I'll be working as the tutor for a girl a little younger than you. She's French, but it seems she's lived in England almost her whole life. The only reason she moved to Spain was because her guardian felt forced to leave the country. Now, Alex, I don't want you to ask questions, and I don't want you to swoop around. You'll remain inside your room working on some scripts for me while I work and when I'm done, we can go out. I hear my new patron is quite nice and he won't mind if we spend some time outdoors." Her father fiddled with her hand, letting it fall up and down with the motions of her walking body. She merely stared at him intently with her penetrating brown gaze, letting her hand linger over a strand of unruly long black hair. "Remember your manners, Alex. You bow your head and smile politely."

She nodded, her eyes scanning the streets. "Papa, does this mean I'm not marrying--"

"No," he shook his head repeatedly, pulling her through large crowds, "No... for goodness's sake, Alex, don't even mention your mother."

"I didn't mean to upset you..."

He sighed, pulling her harshly up stone steps. All she could do was look down at her shinning black shoes and hold her breath. She could hear the knocking of the door repeatedly. It was like a mouse rasping at the paw of a lion. Finally, the door slammed open so quickly that her father jumped. Alexandra, though, remained tightly in place.

"I'm Nicholas--"

"Ah, yes. No need for introductions... names are of so little consequence," a warm, sarcastic voice replied, and they were ushered in quickly. "Allow me to lay some ground rules. There are a few things that are off limits. It's not for any particular reason; I'm a very private man, you see, and I enjoy keeping some things within the comfort of only my own gaze. This is a small house. It is only two floors. Most rooms can be found in the second floor, but I thought it best to give you and your daughter the downstair bedrooms. I'm sure you'll appreciate the luxury of privacy. Moving on, no one is allowed to enter the second floor room with the red door. And, no one is allowed to enter my office--it is the room with the blue door."

Alexandra couldn't look up; all she could see where shiny black shoes with her reflection clearly on the tip. Eventually she felt her arm be pulled forward and she walked. Her shoes were hurting and the dress was a size too small. Her wrist high gloves were itchy with too much lace, and her stomach grumbled from hunger even though she had eaten an apple along the way. She thirsted for the feeling of strong cooling winds drifting through her hair. She missed Russia where the weather was much cooler than in Spain.

All Nicholas could do was nod. He had a question jumping in the back of his mind, but there wasn't chance to fiddle around with it. The Earl walked with quick, short steps and they had to run to keep up. Nicholas scanned the house with his eyes. It was definitely not small. A second floor full of rooms and hallways that resembled a maze with all the doors being a different color, ranging from a light purple to a bright hue of red. The windows were closed, covered by thick muslin curtains. "Earl-"

"Aviare will do just fine, Nicholas. You'll meet Marcel in a few hours. She's out ridding. Oh," he turned around, and Alexandra looked up. Her eyes widened. She had never met a man that was quite a beautiful as the Earl. Her father had warned her that the Earl was an eccentric man. He had a different sort of 'vibrato' her father had opted to say, which, in few words meant that he was a peculiar man with French tastes and the convervative attitude of an English man. He looked almost feminine, though, with his large violet eyes and long thick eyelashes. Except... she scrunched her nose... there was something on his face that made him handsome at the same time. Not manly, but something that transgressed gender. His hair was darker than her own. His cheeks barely had any hint of pink. He smiled at her as if he had known her for ages and offered her his hand. Alexandra took it, being the only polite thing to do. Technically, she should have bowed her head. One did not shake hands with strangers in polite western European society. "You must be little Alexandra. It is a pleasure..."

He had a sing-song voice. There was a melody to it that bespoke of sadness and pain sugar coated to entertain.

"Same, Lord Earl."

He let out a small laugh. "I've never been called Lord Earl. Your father mentioned you enjoy reading and gardens? What is your age, mademoiselle Alexandra?"

She gave a little smile. She gave a small curtsy, almost falling forward, and stepping back quickly with her cheeks burning from embarrasement."I'm sixteen next week, Lord Earl."

"You're very beautiful, mademoiselle. Your hair is quite lovely and your bone structure is fine and elegant. All your neck might need is a string of gold." He seemed to be thinking aloud, yet, she couldn't tell. He cleared his throat, regaining a regal composure. His tone changed to a booming command. His tone, though, remained playful. "And, tell me, what is your favorite book?"

"François-René de Chateaubriand's Memories from Beyond the Grave," she whispered, looking down at her shoes. She felt a cool pair of fingers gingerly elevate her face.

"It is a terrible habit to look down, Mademoiselle," he whispered, "it gives people the impression that you are below their status, and that is never so for we are all equal. Do yourself a favor Mademoiselle and never look down..."

"Y--yes sir."

"I have made it a habit to have a library follow me... It should be the room with the green door down the same hallway as your room. Please feel free to go there any time. The books are dusty. I haven't read them in some time and Marcel is more interested in math than in literature, which is a terrible shame for my mother's books. My mother was an avid reader. She had a talent for writing too--mostly poetry, of course. She wrote very little on her last months of life, though."

"Ah..."

She thought back to her own mother for a second.

He shoved his hand down the pocket of his blazer until he was able to reproduce a thin gold band. Grabbing her delicate hand, he settled the object on her palm, and her eyes twinkled at the sight of the gold. He smiled, "You like it, I take it?"

She nodded. "Ooh yes sir!"

"Ah, I'm glad. I'm so horrible when it comes to welcoming presents, but I thought that there are two things in this world a woman can not resist: jewelry and a proposal."

"A proposal, sir? I daresay that is the easiest thing a woman is bound to resist... It is, after all, a compliment for a woman to have many proposals. She should not settle at the first."

"You're witty," he grinned, "how lovely. You and I are bound to get along splendidly!"

Nicholas remained silent, unable to quiet down his daughter, and fearing hurting the Earl's feelings if he thought about hushing Alexandra. His little Alex had never been outspoken. Her whole life, she had been quiet, like him, and beautiful, like his wife. Nicholas merely eyed the clock and wondered why the Earl was being so kind to his young daughter, not even sixteen.

____

And that was it. I can't wait to read what Alex does with my mess.

... And you tell us that we pair up Aviare and Xasha TOO much?!! By god, she's underaged! Just kidding. I feel the need to check your grammar. And I need to see chapter 25 of Aviare SOON. Good luck on AP m'dear.

JaK

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

,

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

The nothing that becomes something...

There are sayings that surround us, become us, come from us... And those are the ones that are important. Because, what someone said has little importance when it truly doesn't deal with us at all.

I believed in a tomorrow that wouldn't come. And then I woke up and figured out tomorrow was here.

There is nothing more sensible than showing sensitivity in times of fallen pride.

There is such a thing as to fall with grace. If you fall, be sure to do it gracefully. Don't get back up until you're sure no one has seen you fall.

Admit defeat in front of an opponent, but never in front of yourself. To admit defeat in front of oneself would require for the end of a romance with success.

You will find perfection everywhere, except in a mirror. If you find perfection only in a mirror, than your perception is flawed.

Religion moves the masses. Faith moves the individual.

The truth always hurts a little more when it lies precariously in the balance of improbability.

The first place to look for love is in one's own soul.

People always make the mistake of separating those things which they are afraid to deal with, only to see that it makes them so much more important.

If you don't want a human being to do something, then tell them they can.

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

-

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

An Attempt at a Triolet

And looking up at cloudless skies,
In the middle of the night.
Knowing what my heart denies,
And looking up at cloudless skies,
Thinking up of all the lies
That have come to the light.
And looking up at cloudless skies,
In the middle of the night.

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

An Attempt at a Triolet

And looking up at cloudless skies,
In the middle of the night.
Knowing what my heart denies,
And looking up at cloudless skies,
Thinking up of all the lies
That have come to the light.
And looking up at cloudless skies,
In the middle of the night.

The Silence that Kills
Speak out against child poverty. Speak out against a violation to human rights.

Poverty is an unkind and brutal force, particularly when it affects children. Poverty is known to manifest itself in many ways, ranging from the physical pain of a child whose bones are weak from malnutrition, the emotional pain of an orphaned child whose parents have died of AIDs leaving him to fend for his own welfare, to the social pain of a child who must live in unsafe and unhealthy surroundings without the resources to pay for an education. Children suffering under poverty not only struggle for survival, but they are cheated of a childhood, robbed of intellectual stimulation, and ambushed of the opportunity to realize their personal aspirations.Children who should become the next generation are currently dying before they can think of being part of the global community. And, sadly, they also work as a catalyst to pass poverty on to the generations after them. Child poverty is a contradiction in social opportunity as adopted by many nations, and is a violation of human rights.

Child poverty, in itself, is the beginning of adult poverty that ultimately leads to under achivement, poor health, teen pregnancies, criminal behavior, low pay, and unemployment. Over the last two centuries much progress has been made towards the idea that every child deserves an equal opportunity; yet, social statistics and experience indicate that children living under poverty are at a disadvantage. Child poverty is caused by people having children that they can not afford to "care for" in a basic sense, and is known to show its worst signs in girls, ethnic minorities, and children affected by HIV/AIDS, wars and other catastrophes. Perhaps the most important fact to keep in mind is that children are born into poverty. Children do not choose to be poor, and they do not have a say over the personal decisions their parents may have made.

A flexible and workable plan needs to be in order. The plan has to work towards the short term goal of aleviating current conditions of child poverty, and the long term goal of eliminating child poverty. Gender equality is perhaps one of the most important allies in combating child poverty because studies show that a mother's earnings tend to be the main source of funds for her children's food, education and medical expenses. Experience shows that when mothers have the financial means, they invest that money back into their families, resulting in better health, improved education, and stronger local economies. Women’s economic clout is virtually nonexistent in the developing world where two-thirds of the world’s 1.3 billion desperately poor are women and their children. Part of an effective program should focus on building strong local microfinance institutions which ensures long-term sustainability of any economic gains--underlying these programs is the assumption that the empowerment of women through small business activities will lead to better standards of living for their children. If small business organizations can be put to the task, a great change could be achieved in rural communities where moneylenders are known to take advantage of a family's economic situation through high interest rates that make a profit impossible. The program may have entrepenurial women form groups and agree to guarantee each other's loans (this could also work with families), thereby eliminating the need for collateral required by formal lending institutions. Each member of this agreement is eligeble for a small intitial loan and, as businesses expand, loans gradually increase in size to meet demand. The promotion of gender equality, though, should not only be economic but ideological as well.

Education, therefore, must also fall into place. First, the idea that merely giving money randomly solves the issue must be erased and obliterated. Giving money to an alcoholic parent does not mean that his child will have food that night; the parent may simply go out and buy lichor--the money would be far better spent if the child is actually given food, and the parent is placed in a rehabilitation center. It is the way aid is spent that will be important in combating this world issue. While this is also an issue in the developed world, the developed world is the one place that may become a savior. Public awareness can be increased by encouraging public figures to come out and speak about the issue at hand. Not only should these public figures speak of child poverty, but of other contributing factors like AIDs, and the importance of promoting primary education at the global level. Many children who suffer under child poverty are orphans of parents who have died of AIDs. Currently, the fastest growing affected age group are 15-to-24-year-olds Children are often stigmatized and discriminated against and are exposed to abuse and exploitation because of this disease. Others never get a proper education because they are too busy caring for infected family members. HIV prevention programs must be put into place and must have orientation for adults and teenagers, teaching them about AIDs and how to prevent becoming infected. Considering that children are poor because their parents tend to be poor, education should also be focused towards their parents. Parents should be given education that may help them gain skills to build small businesses or get better jobs. Studies show that people who are better educated tend to have less children seeing as they think of affording education, food, and the essentials. Thus, planning education may allow people to consider waiting to have children that they can afford and care for adequately. Community schools may become self-sufficient if group of parents are taught to become teachers by giving them the neccesary tools. Education of children would break the cycle of child poverty many of them fall in and are unable to get out of.

The elimination of child poverty will only be succesful if government policies, family efforts, labor market conditions and the wider forces of social change unite. This is an issue of global proportions that affects developed and developing nations alike and can be solved if all the programs make the step together and work in sync. Furthermore, to turn a blind eye to the current situation is to turn a blind eye on the charter on Human Rights many nations signed.

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

Yay! Views gone up again.

Rock it
Drabble

Breath. Breath. Breath. Breath. Breath. Okay, no breaths coming in... Am I not breathing at all? Oh damn. Butterflies. Flip. Flip. A flop. Flip. Flip. And... still not breathing! I have a clan of butterflies flipping burgers inside my stomach and I have a ball stuck in my air sockets... obviously, I'm going to die from pre-show jitters. Whoever said that they could live on a stage obviously never had any pre-show jitters.

"Hey!" Blu slaps his hand on my shoulder, awakening me from my limbo state.

"Hey..." I respond, my knees knocking a little. I'm that shaky. "...t--this was a bad idea."

He shakes his blue died locks. He is so cute. In my mind, he used to be this unreachable semi-god, and now, he's so real. Him in his blue haired glory. Wonderful smile with dimples... guitar pick in hand... He messes up my 'big' blonde fro reminiscent of the 80s. An omen to the terribleness of it all. To the fact that things are bound to fall apart... like my hair. "Chillax Green. We're going to blow them out of the stadium, baby! We're going to..."

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!" Marlon holds on to us by the back of our necks and shakes us. Great, now the butterflies want to come out. Oh please stay inside! STAY INSIDE! "How's the super team of future Jimmi Hendrix's?"

"Ahem." I cough, reminding him that I am in fact a girl, even if he doesn't quite believe, or want to believe that a girl, much less his little sister, has joined the band he started in the garage. And that was NOTHING until Blu came around.

"Oh, sorry Tay--"

"Green, man, Green..." Blu corrects him, strumming a few chords on his guitar.

"Yeah, Green..." Yello' retorts, spraying some more washable dye on his hair. I fear telling him that he looks like an old man with his newly dyed white hair.

"So, ya ready, lil' sis?" Marlon spats at the word 'lil' as if it defined me. Well, it might have defined me when I was eight, but now I'm fourteen, and grown. And I can play the heck out of a guitar.

I nodded my head, my legs still feeling soft and liquid.

Yello' and Marlon leave. Only Blu and I remain. He pats my head lovingly. I think he once said I remind him of his own little sister, which kind of broke my heart until he made the comment to Yello' that I would look hot with blue hair. Which I tried. And it ended up Green due to my blonde hair. And that's when I became Green. Marlon and the Colors. We were hot. I could do this. I could be hot, and cool, and... damn butterflies... still flipping burgers... adding ketchup. Yuck. I hate ketchup.

"So, what was I saying?" Blu ponders to himself. "Ah yeah... wait, not..."

Marlon called to us. Five. Four. Three. Two...

"Oh, yeah. Forget the scene." He smiled, leaving me behind. "Just... rock it."

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

Two Words

Angel wings
Soaring beneath
Gentle skies
That Escape
The burning
Jail of
Society and Class.

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

Because words mean little when you expect them...

We fall. Two people trying to find the way to climb up again. Yet, we fall. It doesn't say something terrible about us; it just highlights our humanity. It is human to fall. It is human to get back up.

We smile. Mostly because we have met our goal; that primal instinct that has driven us is finally quenched. It is not natural to compete--it is natural to let our emotions overwhelm us. The excitement that is felt at the pinnacle of glory can only be matched by the certainty of knowing... knowing that I can predict what another will do...

Because it is human to misinterpret. It is human to understand. It is all too easy to insult. It is all too easy to joke... and yet you'll never understand the irony behind that wicked game.

We cry. Our hearts left with a void. Not that I mind the insensitivity of words. Yet, I rejoice... because you cry with me. I am not alone. It is not possible for a human to be alone. No one's world could ever be that small.

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

The last

The last thought that crossed my mind was selfish.

Then again... every thought one has is in fact selfish.

The last smile I gave was not for you. It was for me.

All smiles belong to the giver. If you really think of it, all smiles are selfish.

The idea of what is selfish and what isn't defines. It limits.

It soils the purity of the emotion behind the action. It puts you as the protagonist. In truth, it should be the outcome that defines you, not the action itself.

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

The last one for today...

I forgive

I forgive. When you forgive, you are not saying that what someone did was okay. You are not justifying actions that brought you pain. Instead, you are liberating yourself.

When you say, 'I forgive you,' you are really saying, 'I do not want to hold on to this anger and pain in reponse to your actions that poisons my soul. That breaks me from who I can be.'

When you can say this to yourself, you know you have reached that greater level of maturity. You are truly saying, 'I am ready to truly love myself. I am ready to find bliss.'

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

Lullaby of the forgotten
(Amy's song)

I'll be the one who's always there.
I'll be the sunshine on cloudy days.
For every tear that you shed,
I'll give you a smile instead...

I'll be the rain to wash your face
Of all the sadness that remains.
I'll be your blanket when it's cold
I'll be the one that keeps you strong...

I'll be there...
Always.

It doesn't matter
How bad it gets...
You can know
That I'm there,
All the time,
You have a
Place where you can hide...

Because,
I'll be the wind that strokes your hair,
On those days when no one's there.
I'll be the gentle sound of a song,
That sings for you, and you alone...

I'll be the stars that light your way,
Through the darkness and despair.
I'll be your dreams when you escape,
I'll be the dawn in the day...

I love you,
You're my baby.
I held you close,
When your eyes were wet...

I knew you,
Felt you,
And all the sadness that lied therein...

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

:lol

 

[uranusbluedanger1]

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