Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Sequel
I've also decided on the names for all three of the books. I won't tell you them just yet, but the whole trilogy will be named: 'The S.S.S.A.N. Super Secret Special Awesome Ninjas'
Anyway, I'll tell you this much: The first book was all nonsense and humor. The other two books will be angst. And more angst. On top of some angst with pain spiced on top of that.
And yet, I'm still gonna manage some humor. People wonder how I do it all. It's tough. But I guess I'm just awesome like that :)
Peace Out~
Britney
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Song of the...eh...week. Close enough
The Lonely: Christina Perri
(Skip to the thirty second mark to get straight to the music)
Peace Out~
Britney
Sunday, September 4, 2011
New poem
Panting.
Stale, humid air.
No cracks for light.
Or oxygen.
Panting.
Remnants of fabric strewn across.
Dust settling.
Exhaustion.
Panting.
Stomach rumbling.
Tears falling.
Alone.
Silence. I stared down at my body. Light poured into my vision. Going in a million places at once. Searing heat. Pain.
Blinking.
I looked down at myself.
Poked my arm.
Breathed.
I was real.
Peace Out~
Britney
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Skate Day and Cathy's
Here's to another great year of homeschool!
Peace Out~
Britney
Song of the Week
So, the song of the week is:
*drum-roll please*
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gjt80iTmg5g
One More Round, by Barlow Girl. I'm really starting to like them:)
Enjoy!
Peace Out~
Britney
Friday, September 2, 2011
Another Book Part
“Hyah.” “Take that. And that. And how about some of this?” In the background, you could hear the punching and kicking and heavy breathing. Jared smiled, his whole face lighting up.
“Home,” he breathed. He walked into the changing room to get his gym clothes on.
“Yep. He’s a weird one,” Alecter said, sighing a little.
“Ah, but he is our weird one,” Roza replied. “I think you keep forgetting that part.”
“You know, you are absolutely right,” he said.
“I know. I’m the brains of the operation, remember?”
“Ah, so funny. I’m guessing you’re the comedy of it too?”
Book Part
Hades stood near the window, moping in his own quiet way. Stupid Zeus. Always getting the attention. And he didn’t act humble about it. He didn’t even pretend to act humble about it! At least Poseidon would occasionally be on Hades’ side. But Poseidon had other things to deal with, more “pressing matters”, he called it. So most of the time, Hades was stuck, in the same house, in the same room, staring out the same stupid window, alone.
He could here Zeus down the hall, talking to the parents of some girl or other. “Hera,” he thought. “That was it.”
“So,” Zeus started, “I was just hoping by chance, that you would let me escort your daughter out to dinner for her birthday. I just figured it would be some way of showing her how special she was. Though, no food on a platter can compete with her gloriousness.” He turned toward the father, and only someone who truly knew him could hear the sarcasm in his voice as he bowed and said, “Sir.”
Hades snorted. He couldn’t help it. This was the seventh time this week he had asked some girl out on a date, and it was only Tuesday.
“Why, I’m sure she would be flattered by your offer. With your charming good looks and charisma, we might have a wedding before long,” gushed the mother. She started imagining her daughter, walking down a rose covered aisle, wearing a beautiful white dress, with pearls and diamonds, and having glitter trail behind her, like pixy dust.
Zeus smiled, but it was hollow, meaningless. He didn’t care. He never cared about these girls, or about these families. They were just a distraction for him. A…pleasurable distraction.
Even though his smile meant nothing, the mother’s heart fluttered. “Handsome boy,” she thought.
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It was nightfall. Poseidon walked through the door, a satchel strung loosely on his shoulder, a couple books gripped tightly to his chest. His lips were purse, a line had formed between his brows, and each breath sounded more like an agonized moan than an intake of oxygen.
Hades slightly stepped out of the shadows, the lamp light casting strange orange-ish glows on his face and eyes, looking like fire burning from within.
Poseidon didn’t look up, merely sensing Hades’ presence there. He didn’t utter a greeting either. “Too busy,” Hades thought. “Always too busy.”
Still, Poseidon was all the family Hades really had. So, even though it hurt, he ignored the fact he was brushed off by the one person he could confide in, the one person he didn’t completely hate on this retched planet.
So, instead of ignoring Poseidon as well and going off to sulk in his room, he started the conversation.
“What’s wrong? You look weary.”
Poseidon finally looked up, only to glance briefly at Hades as he walked past him and say, “I’m always weary.”
Hades snorted, and then said, “I meant that you look particularly weary today.”
“I merely came across something in my studies that gave me a bit of a shock. Nothing more.”
And with that, he finished walking to his room, and shut the door. Though the echoing in Hades’ ears, and the remnants of stirred dust in the air left the impression of something much rougher.
Hades walked back up to his room, and even though he had waited for hours at the door to see his brother, that brief moment of contact was enough for him to sleep that night without nightmares.
For once.
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Song
Every Time It’s Just Me
Every time I leave
The tension seems to breathe
On its own
And I am left without a home
And every time I wake
I sit in my bed and shake
And wait for the convulsions to end
And every time I blink, I see
A world of black
Just like my dreams
Except I don’t wake up from my life
Every time I cry, I scream
I’m too young to die, it seems
No one cares about such small details
Every time I shrug, and blink
Everyone, seems to think
That I don’t really care
And every memory kept away
In the deepest crevice of my brain
I keep hidden, and locked
And I threw away the key
And no one seems…
Every time I cry, I scream
I’m too young to die, it seems
No one cares about such small details
They were much bigger details
To me
Every time I hear the clock
Ticking away
As if to say
All your life is just a waste
And every time the music ends
I still like to pretend
That my life has meaning
And you’ve just been stealing
Me
Every time I cry, I scream
Every time I cry, I scream
Every time I scream, I cry
I’m just too young to die
Every time I cry, I scream
I’m too young to die, it seems
No one cares about such a small detail
As me
Poem
You are a deceiver.
You are so evil you resemble the one that shall not be named
For his name brings fear
And fear gives power
You are a bottomless pit that sucks in anything that's near
You are a soulless void
In modern terms
You are the electricity bill