Message.

Here it is...

"hey..im guessin ur dad is [REDACTED]...sory 2 tell u but hes a total man whore he told me he was 38 dis was 2 yrs ago :/ i was like 17! bit sic dnt ya think i tried 2 politly say i dnt fancy u n he got all upset ffs! started threatnin me etc...u mite even no dis already tho jsut wonderd th hes bit of a freak! fuckin girls da same age as his son. eww"

I talked to him, and he doesn't know her. This fool simply made an account, messaged both of us, then deleted said account.
VERDICT: Troll. 

Mogwai - Special Moves

Mogwai's Latest Album. I thought I'd share.

Mogwai - Special Moves by Girlie Action

Lacking

So, I've noticed this blog has been lacking posts lately. That's due to my being busy. I'm currently 5,000 words into my novella. A select few of you will get it when I'm done. In the meantime, I'll try keep this stuff alive. I'll try to post things other than poetry; I've noticed that that's all that's been posted recently.

EDIT: The post below, Train Trips and Lyrics, got an Excellence in NCEA Level 1 Creative Writing.

Train Trips and Lyrics

I awaken, but keep my eyes closed for a moment, savouring the remnants of dreams. I find myself wishing it was reality, wishing she was here.


Sighing, I open my eyes to find I'm not where I thought I was. The familiar sight of my ceiling has been replaced with a glass roof. I can see the stars. It's still dark; the light surrounding me is artificial.

Rising, I swing my legs off the bench where I've apparently been sleeping. The area around me is slowly being recognised by my tired brain. It's the train station. And it's empty.

I sigh again, with my head between my legs. All of a sudden, I hear a hiss. Looking up, I see a train. I must not have heard it arrive. Strangely, no one gets off, not even the usual wardens. I sit there, in the empty train station, staring at the empty train. I get the feeling it's beckoning me, calling out to me. On a whim, I respond by standing, walking the few paces between myself and the open doors, and entering. The doors hiss shut behind me.

The train is just as empty as the station. There's no one there; the seats are all empty. I sit. No warden comes to collect my fare.

Looking out the window, I can see it's dark. I don't notice anything else. I can't see anything else, just the dark, empty night outside of this empty train.

Glancing around the carriage once more, my eyes land on something I didn't see earlier. It's an acoustic guitar, not unlike my own, resting against one of the seats. Curious, I give into temptation and wander over to it. Picking it up, I give it a strum. The tone is full, clear, louder than it should be.

Not really knowing why, I start to play. The carriage fills with sound, with music, but it lacks meaning, it lacks a melody. So I sing.

I don't know what I'm playing, or singing, but it's beautiful. My voice joins with the guitar, and it resounds through the carriage. It's the most amazing, indescribable sound I've ever heard. I've never played like this before.

The words flow from my mouth freely. They're new, unfamiliar, but they fit perfectly.



"All for you,

Everything I do,

Seems to be for you,

It's how I want to be,

For you."



As I sing, the darkness outside recedes, slowly being replaced by the light of a full summer's day. I see people walking down streets, holding hands. A family at a playground, smiles and laughter. A young boy running after his dog, laughing with joy.

I continue to play.



"And I count down the hours,

Till I return to you."



Couples hugging, friends laughing. Happiness everywhere.

The train stops.

The doors hiss open.

I continue to play as I walk out of the doors and into the sunlight.

She's there, a smile on her beautiful face.

I put the guitar down and run into her open arms.

And I sing the last line of my song.

"I love you, only you."

I'm happy once again.

Memories

Lazing about, together,



All alone,


Quiet, peaceful, happy.


Wish this could last forever.






My memories will never fade,


You will never be taken away,


You are the one for me,


And I'm thinking of you,


Tonight.






Spending time with you,


For you, for me,


I'm happy beyond belief,


I hope we will last forever.






My memories will never fade,


You will never be taken away,


You are the one for me,


And I'm thinking of you,


Tonight.






And these memories,


They are priceless.


And these times,


They are perfect.


And my love for you,


It's eternal.






You and I will never fade,


We will never be taken away,


You are perfect for me,


And you are on my mind,


Tonight and forever more.

A Collection To The One I Love

A collection of... things, I think I shall call them that I have, well, collected. Along with some of my own material.
This stuff makes me feel like a Hallmark writer. Never a good thing.

Though life may have just begun,



And there are surely many days ahead,


I'm happy with where I'm at,


And where I'm at is with you.






The time I spend with you is priceless.


Time is too slow for those who wait,


Too swift for those who fear,


Too long for those who grieve,


Too short for those who rejoice,


But for those who love,


Time is eternity.






Love is a friendship caught on fire,


Love is a friendship set to music,


And music is love in search of a word.


Love is too strong a word to say too early,


But it has too meaningful a meaning to say too late,


To fear love is to fear life.






So, let me say this.


I love you, not only for what you are,


But for what I am when I'm with you.


I love you, not only for what you have made of yourself,


But for what you are making of me.


I love you for the part of me that you bring out.


I love you, not only because you are perfect,


But because you are so perfect for me.






I say the word 'love',


And others may argue that I don't know what it means,


Or even that it has no meaning.


But, if I know what love is,


It's because of you.






And it's been said,


To love is to be vulnerable.


If that's the price,


Then I pay it willingly.


For to you, I am vulnerable.


I am open to you.


But, when we are together,


We truly are invincible.






So, I've said it before,


And I'll say it again,


I love you.

Flight

I await my vessel,
The one that will take me,
To you.

Waiting patiently,
Writing soothing words,
To calm the flight in my stomach.

Here we go.

And Again?

Again, I seem to be in a creative mood. Perhaps it's distance, time, or the Forum of the Banned.
But, more poetry it is.

The music resonates around the room,
The fire the only source of light.
I sit in the dark warmth,
And count down the days.

Time flows slowly, sluggishly,
Mocking my wait.

My mind skips forward,
To the day I see you again.
The impatience leaves,
Replaced by an excitement,
A happiness previously unknown to me.
Disbelief in my luck astounds me.
A grin spreads across my face.

The figurative pen flows across paper,
Literal fingers flying across the keyboard.
I put into words my emotion,
My feeling,
My thought.
This is how I pass the time without you;
By writing for you.
All for you,
And only for you.

There it is. Not as good as the last, perhaps.
There may be more later tonight.

Otira

Deep in the Southern Alps lies a town that is now nearly empty. The sections, once filled with houses, are now empty, only concrete blocks remaining.
Some of the few houses there have smoke leaving their chimneys; the only sign of life. The others are seemingly empty. All the houses are as derelict as the next, inhabited or not.
The local hotel is 'bustling'. Both its fires are lit.
People in this town are lucky to get 2 hours of sunlight a day. And yet, this town is situated directly on the coast to coast train line. The trains occasionally make brief stops, simply for assistance through the nearby tunnel; the third longest in New Zealand.
This town is a ghost town. The tunnel is the most well known part of it.
And here, it ends.
To be continued.

True story, bro.

Something Different

Right. This is all ad-lib, just cos I have the urge to write. Don't even know what I'm going to be doing yet. But, here goes. Poetry, I think.

The sun sets,
The cold mountains,
The fresh snow,
The pale sky.

I sit here,
In a silent house,
And my thoughts are with you.

I pick up my guitar,
And break the silence.
Melodies fill the air,
Calming, soothing.
My voice joins them,
And my mind drifts.

I think back,
Look over the past.
My thoughts zoom in on the past few weeks,
Lyrics propelling them along.

Originality flowing free,
Creativity abound.
You are my inspiration.

That night,
My fluke, my luck,
My amazement at the discovery,
Of someone akin,
Someone alike,
Someone beautiful.

Happiness.
That simple leap of faith,
Leading to so much joy.