81. Submission

Lead me on
Yank my chain
I'll follow you anywhere.

I am a marionette
You hold my strings
For you, I'll do anything.

Create with me
This beautiful dance
Lead me, and I'll follow.

Command me
Whatever you fancy
I submit.

But what a poor lead!

I am alone
Without your guidance.

The puppet is lifeless
With no tension in the strings.

There is no dance
Without steps.

Tell me nothing
And nothing I do.

Command me,
I beg of you.

87. “The night is young…”

How late it is! Yet, the night is young. There has seldom been such times when I've felt so alive, so high. I've almost forgotten that I can't fly.

It feels like the feeling will last forever, and I can do nothing to stop it. Maybe if I stay up late enough, I'll trip and end up flying. At this point, it seems plausible.

I could have stayed out much later. I would have truly danced till dawn if the opportunity afforded me. I never really understood the saying before. I thought they were crazy. How long can one really dance? Forever! With the right partner, that's how long I want it to last.

The night will always be young.

74. Just for you

Just for you will I fly. I flew with you first. While I can half fly with others and have the chance of flying then, I can't. I don't know if it's a stupid, unreasonable loyalty or my stubbornness of not wanting to take another leap of faith. It took but a beckon of your hand to make me trust you, yet I cannot trust honest words. Perhaps it is that my body simply trusts you. You've earned that trust through yours. Words and bodies communicate on different levels.

I don't quite know why, but I trust you. Yes, you've dropped me, but once out of several times. The experience was too exhilarating and the fall not hard enough to make me want to stop.

I want to fly again. Just for you.

15. Escape

It's in the whirl of arms. It's in the quick steps placed ever so carefully. It's in the rhythm of you and me. This is the place I escape to. This is the place I can't escape.

Try as I might, my mind travels back through the steps to those nights and moves. Such an ecstasy would be insane to deny. It is the one place when I truly feel alive. It feels like the rest of life is just a waking dream. Every Wednesday night is when I truly awake.

Have you ever had a moment when you felt like your soul sings? It's just like that. It's as if I've found the perfect resonance for my harmony. At that moment, everything is suddenly right.

It's dumbfounding, and I'm in love with it because, hey, if you can't escape something, better to love it than anything else.

2. Growing up

She never wanted to. She was perfectly content to stay home and be taken care of. She never felt like she needed a boyfriend. Why bother? She had her home and her family. There was no want for affection. No need to add the drama of a boy. Never did she need a job. Money was never an issue. She certainly wasn't rich, but her mother had told her not to worry, and she listened.

If she grew up, she would have to leave all of this behind. She didn't want to. She liked being taken care of. She liked knowing that there was always someone right there that loved her. If she grew up, she would have to leave, and she wouldn't have any of that any more. Time and distance would irrevocably change her when she liked the way she was.

She was happy then.

43. Friends or lovers?

I met a boy today. He was sweet to me and smiled a lot. But then he does that to everyone. He's just very polite. Yet, I don't know if it's my fancy running away with me, but perhaps he's slightly nicer to me? I don't know.

He's nothing like the boy I met yesterday. That boy was still very attentive but in a different way. He seemed very forward, but then he's like that with everyone. Still, I can't help but wonder what inspired him to talk to me out of all the other girls. I don't know.

Then there's the boy I left back home. I grew up with him, so it's almost like he's a brother to me but not quite. I can tell him anything, and I trust him implicitly. Last summer I came back to find him and myself grown up. It was the first time he flirted with me. I didn't know if he was serious or not.

I don't know what these boys are to me. They seem too much to just be acquaintances. Those are the people you wave to but never talk to. And yet, I don't know if I can call them simply friends. It feels like there's some connection, some lure. Lovers? But that might be hoping for too much.

I don't know what to think.

85. “Dazzle me!”

Spin me around till I'm breathless. Wow me by showing me what I didn't know I could do. Guide me through the impossible.

The time for gentle teachings is past. I want to see what you and I can do. Show me something amazing. Dazzle me!

84. Too young

Oh why must you be too young for me, you young slip of a thing? Ordinarily, I'd say it did not matter, but a year means more or less depending on when.

There's a leap from milestone to milestone that cannot be easily bridged. One would almost think it's easier to wait for the other to cross. It would be.

Too young by a year, too young by a month, too young by a day! It's all practical nonsense. Conventions are there for a reason, but how foolish people are for blindly following them.

69. The many faces of me

I resent wrong first impressions. I resent the people whom take those shallow beliefs and apply it to my entire being. I dislike being written off as the "innocent one". I do not know nothing. Although my mind may not be as dirty as yours, it does understand. Don't think me ignorant just because I look like I should be. Don't think me naive just because you want to fulfill some little role in your world of the innocent girl.

I know I am quiet. In fact, to you I am almost cold. I do not see why you would find me innocent. Perhaps you are less perceptive than I would give the average person credit for. You have thrown my image to the fancy of the wind and let take on a completely different face. I am not who I appear to be to you.

There are many faces to me, and no, you will probably never see all of them. I highly doubt I will show you more than what you think because I find it will be too much energy to correct my image of myself in the mind of someone I dislike. Chances are that I shall let you run with your wrong impressions, and perhaps someday I shall watch you fall on your face with it.

But know this, that face that you think you saw does not exist.

3. Secrets

Something I've never really wanted to share.
Something I've wanted to hold up and shout about.
Something I gaze at from a distance under the show lights
Something I quietly admit, "Yes, that's mine."

But it can never be shared
For then it loses its quality.
Two can keep a secret
When one of them is dead.

And so these shall lay with me
Or be told
In the end.

44. Let’s play a game…

Let's play a game. The game is called Court. The rules are simple, all you have to do is follow the lead or lead the follow. It doesn't matter what your plans were. Drop them and go with the flow. Nothing else can matter except what falls inside your overlapping circle of interest. All else ceases to exist. By this way, you can win the game.

The game is a lie.

22. Forgetting

Elusive ecstasy
I cannot quite keep a hold of it
So wonderful
That I wonder if it's true.

In the moment, I know;
Yet, I doubt.
And how easily I forget!

It's just too good to be true
That I cannot recall it as reality
It seems as if I've painted the picture sweeter
Just how I wanted it to be.

I forget that it actually happened.
I forget that it's really true.
I forget myself
When I think of you.

80. Reason and Emotion

Oh, how I hate the battle between the two! You, you make it no better. One could say that you are the catalyst that sparks the argument. Reason says that this is ridiculous. Reason says you are not right for me. Reason says this could be used to simply have a first but is starting to be not worth the effort.

Emotion says to want you. Emotion has overfilled me and drained me. Emotion has convinced me of my own worth. Emotion builds me up and tears me down. Oh, how I hate how easily you pull my strings! The sad part is that you probably don't mean to, and I know you don't. Yet, I cannot help these accursed emotions from feeling. They insist on leaping for joy at your word, and they wilt from lack of you.

Reason tells me that this is stupid. Reason says to get off the emotional roller coaster ride because it isn't worth it. Reason is very wise and logical; I'd like to listen to reason.

But I can't. Emotions won't let me.

I'd have to say that emotions won this battle.

...So far.

Writer's Block

I am not entirely certain how or why it comes about. All I know is that I am in the midst of such. For some inexplicable reason I feel a sort of strange dread when I am about to put transcribe words to others' works. Perhaps it is simply my nature, and that my nature is somewhat of a control freak's when it comes to writing.

I've never really dealt well with roleplaying. The tenses threw me off, and I hated the fact that I had no idea where the story was going and had no control over the other characters.

Round robins weren't so bad. However, the more successful ones had outlined storylines and plots--not something round robins are supposed to have. I suppose the spontaneity of someone else's characters that I don't know scares me a bit.

Ah, but how to get over it? I know naught. I suppose maybe someday I may just sit down at my computer and type a post, and that will be it. Or perhaps it may not be so easily vanquished but haunt me deep into my years... Hopefully not. That would be a sad tale.

Whatever the method, whatever the means, I hope I find the remedy.

Don't loose your faith in men. There's all sorts of people out there, and not all of them are like him. Don't give up on love.

So she says to the girl being burned at every turn. She does not promise that the child will not get hurt again. The child feels like she's touched a stove and been told that it's alright to touch it again but only sometimes without being told when.

No one will ever know when.

She doesn't want to give up playing with fire. She's found that it can be fun even if it burns. However, she no longer wants to do anything more than pass her hand through the flame--a harmless trick.

Perhaps there's something more there, and she wouldn't mind finding out. It's just that she feels like her resolve is slipping. Faith was so hard to come by but so easy to lose. Once it begins to trickle from her fingers, a torrent seems to follow. Just how much trust can one hold?

Not so much. Trust too much, and it will overflow until it all drains out.

She's nearly empty.

"Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship."

Which is perfectly true, and I'm perfectly fine with it. The notion is not unfamiliar at all. What is not fair is that I was not in love in the first place, so why is friendship so hard?

I suppose that raises the question of what exactly did I have in the first place. I'm not entirely sure. It's something muddled that lies in the gray regions of undefined and indistinguishable.

But everybody needs something, and at least we understand each other now. Yet, understanding does not make what we're doing any better.

Perhaps it is better if I don't see you at all.

But I should hate to miss that. I do like your company for more than just that, and it would be a shame if I were to dispose of your friendship simply because we lacked control.

1. “Love me, lie to me, but do not leave me!”

And so the strain echoes in my head as I hopelessly cling on. My logic and mind tell me to let go to make things easier. Yet, if I cannot have him completely, can I not have this small piece?

It's a want on an instinctual level. I don't care why you're here. I don't care what we're doing. I don't care about the complications later. I only care that I can hold you close for a short while. I know you are not mine. I simply revel in the feel of a heartbeat next to my own.

I don't need much. I just want you here. What you give after that is up to you.

Unhealthy Living

You are not good for me
I find that I cannot eat
My sleep is restless
I cannot relax when I am so aware of you

And yet, it is when I am with you
That I feel alive
Your nature is infectious
And suddenly everyone is a friend
Every moment seems so bright

Never mind my empty stomach
Never mind my sleepless eyes
Never mind my jangled nerves
It seems to not matter
With this brilliant electricity
Wired through my bones
I am held up by something
That I can't quite name.

hm, you will learn alot through this, glad to see you writing again.

Hmm, I think the boy not only takes away my will to eat but also my writing inspiration. @_@ Or perhaps I simply need to be in an angsty mood to write. xD

There's a girl that wonders about fate. She thinks it would be a nice thing if it existed--like string theory. She wonders why people believed in notions like that. She supposes that it would be too depressing for some people if life was just made out of chaos. Wouldn't it be pretty if everything was somehow--almost magically--tied together?

But then there are those that resist the idea of destinies. What fun is it if everything is decided for you? Where's the beauty in that?

She doesn't really know what to think about fate. She doesn't really care most of the time. She's a girl that enjoys living in the present. This moment. This touch. This taste. Now is what she finds important. Perhaps the future would be nice to know about but does that really matter? Does it really matter why the universe so willed or did not will this or that to happen? What matters to her is that it happened, and that's that.

She smiled in what she hoped was a secret way and hurried off. Keep them guessing.

She wanted to appear a mystery. She was never obvious about her interests because she thought herself boring. She would simply leave questions unanswered because she figured that their guesses would be more entertaining than the actual answers. Honestly, she was just a regular girl. There was no big secret that she was hiding. The only thing she was hiding was how ordinary very she was.

Perhaps it was deceptive, she admitted to herself. Yet, she couldn't help it. It was her only ploy. Without it, she would be nothing. No, not even nothing. The poverty of life was more interesting than the ordinary. The mundane faded right out of the picture when there was something different. What else could she do?

At least she wasn't pretending to be something she wasn't. She just wasn't saying what she was. There was nothing wrong with that, right?

The boy was obsessed with beautiful girls. He was so obsessed with beauty that his friends jokingly called him a woman. He was far from such tendencies, however. He simply fell in love with every single beautiful woman that he saw.

There was something about them. A woman that put effort into her looks cared about presentation and impressions. A guy could always count on a girl like her to be the best girl at parties. Yet, a woman that didn't bother with anything but still looked amazing was absolutely breathtaking. Those women never seemed to know that they were beautiful, and there was something attractive about their shy, embarrassed way of receiving compliments that appealed to him.

Yes, he knew there was something to do with personalities and insides, but it was beauty that got him. It wasn't that he wouldn't look at a girl if she wasn't beautiful, but it would certainly take him longer to notice her. So he was shallow, so what? He was human, and he just couldn't get enough of them.

Tell me that you want me, baby. Tell me that it's true.

This was an unhealthy relationship. Maria really should not have let this get so out of hand. So an evil genius was in love with her. That really was no excuse. So the evil genius was enchantingly charming and far too good looking for his own good. That should not have been an excuse either.

He was so good to her. She really didn't deserve it. She was the queen of her own little corporate world and caused a world of pain and irritation to anyone that got on her nerves. She played hard to get with all the would be suitors because she quite frankly did not think they were good enough for her. She played hard to get with Marcheva because it suited her purposes.

Say the magic words, and I'll destroy the world for you.

She didn't desire much. The plans of grand destruction and takeover of the world belonged to that of her evil, far-too-smart-for-his-own-good boyfriend. She was a simply girl. All she wanted was domination over her world, control over a tiny little island of power. Was that really so much to ask for?

An army for the broken hearted marching through the streets...

And was it really coercion when he was so willing to give it? She was quite certain he'd do anything to get her, which was exactly why she had to stay out of reach. Her perfect puppet.

The city is surrender, and it's falling at your feet.

Yes, it may have been unhealthy, but it was just what she wanted.




[Lyrics from "I Wanna Hold You" by McFly]

Love wasn't supposed to be like this. He had always thought that he would find some sweet girl and fall in love with her lovely smile and twinkling eyes. She would be kind and gentle, and she'd unwittingly bewitch him with her innocence. He would take it slow and love her gently. Their love may not be a passion written about in a soap opera, but it would be sure as a slow river flowing.

Yet, with this girl his heart felt like it was beating too fast. Sometimes he'd be so nervous that he wouldn't be able to eat. This girl was shameless. She'd flirt with him without seeming to mean to, but not innocently. She was the sort of girl that simply flirted with everyone without meaning anything. Yet, when she looked at him, he felt like he was special. He wondered if every guy she looked at felt like that.

She lived vicariously. He fell for the brightness she seemed to inspire with every smile. She was an ambitious girl and didn't hide it. If there was something she wanted, she took it. If it couldn't be taken, well, she would take it. For some reason, he admired that about her.

The life inside her was intense. She presented a collected front to the world, but the word calm could never describe her. Even sitting still, she was a collection of hyper energy. Each movement was charged with purpose, and when she closed her eyes it was with such a sense of definiteness that it seemed hardly restful.

There was something terribly addictive about her energy. He knew that love did crazy things to a person, but he wasn't supposed to feel like this. This was turned inside out and around and backwards till he didn't know where gravity applied. Love would make one daydream and perhaps be a bit less conscious, but this? This was madness.