So thank you so much to a very awesome person I am back in action online. And its pretty clear I have a lot of updating to do....but however here is another ranting piece of writing to get us started.


Two worlds worth of propaganda sliding in through each passin nites moonlight. How could this little complicated set of rules possibly have made their way into a life that was torn to begin with?….To little to late?…chances?….but overall and more importantly where is the lane of permanent changes?
To go on now means a greater action of moments where everything needs to be well thought out and proposed in a neat design fit for a goddess. Nothing could have been more difficult then it was about to get now. Her world flipped upside down yet again in the matter of a small evening. Revenge was all that began to place itself in her heart. Confused with the formation of stars that found themselves buried beneath her eyes, and sunken into the furrows of her throat. At that moment a switchblade truly would have been easier to swallow. Who will run and who will stay? Or will she give up on herself? Is there a reason for why she must keep portraying and fighting as a noble Viking warrior. Truly born into the darkness this life has to offer she has conquered all….and now she realizes it was all just a lull….this is the storm but in the end it will work out either way. So many options and concepts lie before her the only to get to the end is to take the ball of furies twine and make an entry from the piled mess….how long will she have?…what proper amount of timing will be allowed considering the state in which she finds herself place in?
Desire and temptation play such a key role in the aspects of what may determine the years to come of her happiness. But two hearts are now thought for, the despairing moments of only one is no longer and available option but rather a twisted origin of her nieve creation. How he takes her away like this is far beyond the margins of her understanding, she cries as he shackles her heart and tears it from her chest, but neither does she fight his will. His persistant calls scream very loudly into the drums of her brain and creates a catastrophic explosion everytime she tries to ignore it….she cant. He’s both the headache and the cure. The resurrection and the finishing blow. The thorn and the rose. The earth and the air. The catch and release.\
Mind dizzy dancing the irregular jingle of perplexed forceful gates, possibly walking through that door made absolutely no sense and stayin reserved in the lobby of lost souls proved to be a far better ideal. Conforming to her own beliefs was a caddy choice of wording, actions none the less well imposed upon, but who really has the key to the truth for her?…who has the answer?….something that cannot possibly be known without trial and error. Breaking the barriers of dawn she acts on the impulse of hate, anger, pain, and revenge….but that all becomes a very centered lie, its only those who chose to look will comprehend that information. Imported into oneself with the over called numbers of electric blue eyes, with magnificent shades of understanding and illness. Something can be said for a lost cause, but what if it wasn’t so lost?…only temporarily blind. The only thing at this time that is clear is that there is no giving up and there is no quitting, spoken like a true warrior she picks up her failin entrails and carries on to another mountain side. Endangering everything within herself, everything she worked so hard to repossess, that doesn’t matter any more there is a greater cause that has presented herself and her focusing direction lies behind a wall she have no trouble walking through.
Hair line fractures of open messed fields range from the far depths of the northern borders that thought had themselves made. Tailored to the likings of her own imagination she has perfection but the problem lies because it comes in to many different forms of ways. Wouldn’t it have been easier to leave her dying, intestines out to the airborne infections, limbs severed and a head placed on a pole?…could she had not have been left there? Because now the wrong choice will only grant her a one way ticket into a place far more out of reach. Hold her up and hold her down, hold her hair under the ocean for Christ sakes. Throw the wooden box at her muttled and feet and leave nothing but the rest of your footprints.
Not an option, far to great for her own good, this was the curse and gift her mother left her with. Being both maniacal and loveable she becomes a statistic in the sadistic game some god created for human kind. Restless with fear and worrying, there is a different kind of sinking and burning that boils from the underbelly of her underworld. It is an excitement laced with fine shades of apprehension and dismay. Bruised to the gills with the thought of another failed attempt, conceptualized by the vision of the unknown. If there was ever a way to prepercieve a decision wouldn’t that be a wonderful gift. No answers or reassurance can be given at this time that will finalize anything she thinks or feels. The damage lies far deeper than what is understood and the even worse part is that it just cant be simply expressed. There is absolutely no way to convince herself of anything more or less, there is a very grey area in her that is holding a stop system with everything she thinks and proceeds to do.
So desolate but yet not alone, left on that cornerstone, a bridge she may have fallen off a few times. It was the iciness below that carried her to another passage way, but that damn path ended up reverting her back to the beginning. Although the object of it all is contorted and twisted into a wrenched situational bliss, somewhere it needs to make sense. Things are all so different but many of the famous elements remain the same. Had they known what toils inside her would they make it any easier?….not a chance. Had that been the case this piece of writing wouldn’t have been written in the first place. Manageable only through the means of darkness and the time spent there alone with thoughts and phrases, continious overhwelmin surprises in conclusional thoughts, which really at the end of a moment of thinking and sorting there becomes no outcome. What was it worth?…why was it the object of that affection?…what was seen that no one else saw?
Break the lines and barriers, there are no fucking boundaries people! There is a no holds barred policy left in place where someone who once had a heart sits. Like a goat takes flight to a tree that is how abstract it has all worked out to be, somehow there was a mild glitch in the system of how she weaved in and out of lives and now other lives are feeling the treasure she once believed she was. Confidence comes in many shades of green, green because it is the universal transition of envy. Anyone with 50 bucks could win a nine way bet based on the level of envy they carry towards her. She is more than a lady luck, possibly better than a trumped deuce overriding the entirety of a table. She holds a pair of dice that connected are deadlier than a wager made with a hand of nothing.
Situational bliss is how the educated may describe the complex surroundings of her whirlwind mind.
Then suddenly everything came to a leapin hault…it was over….it was easy….it had been lyin infront of her the whole time face to face. It was truly the greatest risk any woman could have ever taken in an few hours…but her mind soley found its path. It would be a long and tedious road ahead and the black and white art form she once hung on her wall would seen become a reality for yet another forth nite. He would learn the true value of her glass boots and the scene behind her eyes. She would have to mop the tears he created and he would have more than one war to prove worth in. Unsure if he really understood what he was takin on, she gave the benefit of the doubt that evening and even if it did faulter and she had found another path of destruction, at least this nite would still exist in her mind and soul for the rest of her human life. The moments upon his arrival seemed to drag on for days, but the time seemed to wander off into nowhere when his gaze met hers, freezing her into place as if nothing else was there except for the 2 of them.
Months have passed by now and for what?…desperately diggin for the answers that would have all of this make some sort of conceptional sense. Reason and fate displayed its nasty little thorns so clearly that day. It wasn’t over…too many missed communications and faulty lies that only spun a web of self destruction, leading to an explosion of emotion that had a buried face value for far too long. Within the crosswinds of it all, hearts were broken, spirits robbed and identities forfeited under the judgement of an impulse. Its not particularily fashionable to kill the insides of a man whos intentions were good, but he subconsciously embedded himself into a war that didn’t belong to him. As she threw time bombs, slung rapid fire from her hip and slaughtered anyone in the path of her detour, so many ended themselves as casualties in her grasp. Torn apart by her beauty and captivated by her pristine unique projection, the very eyes of her took them all to a place isolated by the warning signs of how dangerous she really was. Fury engulfing her as the black heart she possessed drove her to a point of becoming charcol, condensed and reduced to a diamond in the rough, only years of experience could have started compounding it in such a way that those who chose to look would see it.
Things have come to pass for abrupt and quick reasons, things have taken place that breath the air of 2 warriors that once fought side by side in an open sea of bratalian fields. A joining of great sorts put through the wash and still came out a bit dirty but larger in size.
There are so many words for it all….but it boils down to an obsession you just know