//:The Cre♥tive Cognition

I feel like I've neglected so much. Not just me not updating this - my online journals as you can call it. But... it feels like I've just realized things. Like I see and understand so much clearer now. Not to be emo - that's beside the point and besides I don't agree with emo and its -ings - but have you ever felt so numb in your life? Question yourself. 
I have. So I can fully testify it's something that God knows I wish would never happen to anyone. 

WOW! 

It feels good to breath. 

And how good does it feel to have someone constantly in one's mind that could drive you potentionally isane. I mean, it's getting on my nerves, but like my friend Michelle said, it's good to have someone to think about. And no matter how I would turn things around in my head, how I would smack my forehead because scenes just keep repeating in my mind, and how I just have to deny every single time, the fact remains. I think I've fallen. Not in love. But something close to it.

And because of that - this is where I will leave you for now. Other than that, I just want to share just two icons I made. It's because I've wanted to post something creative here for some time now. But then, none of my writings is ever complete. And even if I do feel creative - deviantart is keeping me off my own artist's utensils and gaping open mouthed at people's work. How appropriate. It's about Paris. They're one and the same, and they are from a section of a photo I took when Laura and I were by the Eiffel Tower [credit if you use]:

It has been many months since I last touched Livejournal - this and my other account. New Year has passed. I hope everyone had a blast! To those who as not been greeted by me, belated Happy New Year!!!

Here is a short piece I found on someone's imeem profile. I think it was somewhere in the begining of last year. I liked the feel and texture of it so much, it appealed to my visual asthetics, I just had to save it and tuck it away somewhere to re-read at a later date. Since my last laptop went and busted itself up (more like we broke it's charger and now it has no power source). All my files, especially my video streams (mourns that she can no longer download FMA for free), are more likely lost til further notice. Anyways, here it is, short and simple:

Poor summer, it doesn't know it's dying.
A few days are all it has. Still, the lake
is with me, its strokes of blue-violet
and the fiery sun replacing loneliness.
I feel like an animal that has found a place.
This is my burrow, my nest, my attempt
to say, I exist. A rose can't shut itself
and be a bud again. It's a malady,
wanting it. On the shore, the moon sprinkles
light over everything, like a campfire,
and in the green-black night, the tall pines
hold their arms out as God held His arms
out to say that He was lonely and that
He was making Himself a man.

I did however uploaded some files onto mediafire (a great relief), so I do have some files saved. I also have some available music downloads which links I will post at a time when I basically feel like it =P

Here is something I wrote last year as well - in my throes of fraustration and agony and somewhere where I had a compulsion to open every story (that I plan to write but never finish) begining with the sky! Don't know why, something about dramatic effect or other that I'm not sure on - but it's suppose to be mood building!

                     ~: Untitled 1
It was a starless night. Quiet, passive. No real threat to the angry storm clouds rolling in like waves, changing the border from the here to the world just beyond the reach of sight. Within minutes, rain fell. At first a drizzle, a quiet sombre murmur heralding the coming storm. It rained gently as if on a black parade, blurring the grey lines of the cityscape; trapping all noise and silence into one coalescing cadence. And then the heavy downpour: angry unyielding and relentless shards of dew-shaped water, in their unnumbered numbers, leaving no scope for the people to hide – with the only refuge under strong built roofed structures. It fell, heavy, pinioning down proud green leaves in their upright stance against the brazen weather; drumming quicken heartbeat rhythms on cage windows that trapped and sheltered souls within. These were angels’ tears. A silent morose requiem for life.

A shadow leaped behind the background
snatching half of the light.
It scared off almost every audience but
some remained, calm.
The lights flicked open.
Penetrating the deep darkness and soon it faded.
The room remained casual after the shock,
everyone chattering away
and the shadow was forgotten
and so the show went on.

Brand new layout, still Bleach by still the same bulletscarnage