Time
Time always to be slipping away.
I can never get it when I need more.
But when I'm pressed for it, it rushes past, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.
The hourglass is my enemy,
and the watch is my foe.
They seem to conspire against me.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm fighting a losing battle.
When you're young and old, time seems to stand still.
When you're anything else, you always seem to need more.
I think God has a sense of humor, don't you?
He gives us time when we don't need it; when we do, it's already wasted.
So don't waste the time you've got left.
Get out and do something with it.
Remember that time, no matter how much you have, is a precious commodity.
One we can't afford to buy back.
Hands
The stars seem so far away,
or maybe it's because I'm so lost.
I can't seem to find my way.
I think I need a hand.
If someone would reach out to me
and throw me a lifeline,
I'd gladly take the chance they'd give me
and hold on for the ride.
I can never seem to find the words
that will express what I'm thinking.
Perhaps that's why they say I'm dumb,
or pretend they can't hear me.
I'd substitute your reality for my own,
but that doesn't seem to be working either.
Life can pass you by and so can dreams,
but maybe that's what makes life worth living.
Taking risks - disappointments,
to me it's all the same.
I don't want my heart broken,
but it's bound to be along the way.
When I need help, I'll make a choice,
to be all I can be.
Maybe someday someone will see me for who I am.
Until then, I'll just have to try and see myself for me.
Further Drabbles
More drabbles of a completely bored mind.
Did that...
Small lines. Tiny people.
I wonder what they're doing down there.
Cold air. Tiny flakes.
I wonder what I'm doing up here.
Did something happen to me?
Dark smoke. Red fire.
I wonder what's going on down there.
Invisible air. Black clouds.
I wonder what's going on up here.
Did something happen to me?
Foaming water. Loud hissing.
I wish I could see better.
Warm air. Light rain.
I wish I could hear better.
Did something happen to me?
Loud cries. Tight hugs.
I wonder what they're doing down there.
Thin air. Trailing tears.
I wonder what I'm doing up here.
Did something happen to me?
Twisted metal. Scorched asphalt.
I think I know what's going on down there.
No air. Bright light.
I think I know what's going on up here.
Did that happen to me?
I know.
Did that...
Small lines. Tiny people.
I wonder what they're doing down there.
Cold air. Tiny flakes.
I wonder what I'm doing up here.
Did something happen to me?
Dark smoke. Red fire.
I wonder what's going on down there.
Invisible air. Black clouds.
I wonder what's going on up here.
Did something happen to me?
Foaming water. Loud hissing.
I wish I could see better.
Warm air. Light rain.
I wish I could hear better.
Did something happen to me?
Loud cries. Tight hugs.
I wonder what they're doing down there.
Thin air. Trailing tears.
I wonder what I'm doing up here.
Did something happen to me?
Twisted metal. Scorched asphalt.
I think I know what's going on down there.
No air. Bright light.
I think I know what's going on up here.
Did that happen to me?
I know.
Drabbles
Here are some short poems I wrote a few years ago. Just wanted to share. They're not very good, but maybe someone will get something out of them.
Don't Mean Much
Ignore me. Belittle me.
Make me feel worthless.
Don't look at my tears, they don't mean much anymore.
I'm just me. I don't dazzle.
I stay quiet. I stay calm.
Don't look at my hands, they don't do much anymore.
I don't ask for help. I just try.
I try to ignore the empty feeling inside.
Don't look at my lips, they don't say much anymore.
Help me. Love me.
Make me feel wanted.
Don't Mean Much
Ignore me. Belittle me.
Make me feel worthless.
Don't look at my tears, they don't mean much anymore.
I'm just me. I don't dazzle.
I stay quiet. I stay calm.
Don't look at my hands, they don't do much anymore.
I don't ask for help. I just try.
I try to ignore the empty feeling inside.
Don't look at my lips, they don't say much anymore.
Help me. Love me.
Make me feel wanted.
Don't look at me, I don't mean much anymore.
Life's Journey
Follow me down the lane.
See the leaves fall down again?
Walk with me until the twilight,
under the far-away moon, so bright.
Hold my hand and I'll hold yours.
I'll never pull you with too much force.
Stay beside me for all my days,
and I will help you ease your pain.
Friends, lovers, husband and wife.
They use those words to describe our life.
All I know is that we've never failed,
or looked with regret on our life's trail.
I'm a Sock!
How would I feel if I was a sock?
Always being pushed around, pulled on something, pushed in something.
I think I'd hate the shoe.
Mean ol' smelly shoe.
I think I want to be a polka-dot sock.
Or maybe I'll have stripes, like a prison sock.
What about a solid sock? Too boring.
Holey socks are no fun.
Maybe I'll be a toe sock, ten little mes warming ten little toes.
I'd be a thick thermal sock, keeping toes nice and warm.
I don't want to be a sock puppet.
What about a slipper-sock? The ones with soles on the bottom.
No shoes!
Never mind. Being a sock is more work than I thought.
I'm a Sock!
How would I feel if I was a sock?
Always being pushed around, pulled on something, pushed in something.
I think I'd hate the shoe.
Mean ol' smelly shoe.
I think I want to be a polka-dot sock.
Or maybe I'll have stripes, like a prison sock.
What about a solid sock? Too boring.
Holey socks are no fun.
Maybe I'll be a toe sock, ten little mes warming ten little toes.
I'd be a thick thermal sock, keeping toes nice and warm.
I don't want to be a sock puppet.
What about a slipper-sock? The ones with soles on the bottom.
No shoes!
Never mind. Being a sock is more work than I thought.
Introspekce
The moon hung bright and full in the black sky. Obtrusive clouds drifted in front of it, their silhouette eerily illuminated by the cold orb.
On earth, Uzume stood under such a sky and closed her eyes. The silence bore down around her, countless lives echoing in the charged air. Goddess of the dawn, she relished in the night sky and the power such a moon granted her. Daughter of an unfortunate union between an archangel and ancient creature, the reincarnation had many things unexplained about her and she preferred it that way. Still healing from her battle with the hunter, she soaked up as much power as she could from the sky, drawing on the moon itself.
She could feel the bright light soak into her skin, penetrating to her very soul as she released the breath she had been holding. Dawn and dusk merged in her soul, sun and stars reflected in her golden eyes as she turned to the shadows. The bond had alerted her to the demon-were long before, she had simply chosen to ignore him.
Theirs was a complicated relationship. Mates in their formers lives, it seemed impossible they would ever be united in this one. A bond formed by instinct, a battle in which lives had hung in the balance. Uzume had been forced to take control of Fukurokuju when he had attacked her mortal father, manipulated by those damned druids who had wanted to sacrifice her heart to summon their devil-god. At first the bond had been one-way, but as the days passed she wondered what she had done. She was constantly aware of him in her subconscious and was able to siphon energy from him when necessary. But she found herself drawn more and more to him and wondered if her love of night had been influenced by the demon.
He padded towards her, a huge black wolf with crimson streaks stretching from his eyes to tail. Massive black wings were folded against his back, crimson feathers brushing against her had as he sat down next to her, staring straight ahead. The look in his blood-red eyes were full of reproach - for her injury, for her neglecting to rely on him, for something else. She shrugged, unable to trust the demon-were just yet. He was proving far more reliable than the angel, but past behavior indicated a turn for the worse...
They remained that way, side-by-side, under the unnaturally-bright moon.
On earth, Uzume stood under such a sky and closed her eyes. The silence bore down around her, countless lives echoing in the charged air. Goddess of the dawn, she relished in the night sky and the power such a moon granted her. Daughter of an unfortunate union between an archangel and ancient creature, the reincarnation had many things unexplained about her and she preferred it that way. Still healing from her battle with the hunter, she soaked up as much power as she could from the sky, drawing on the moon itself.
She could feel the bright light soak into her skin, penetrating to her very soul as she released the breath she had been holding. Dawn and dusk merged in her soul, sun and stars reflected in her golden eyes as she turned to the shadows. The bond had alerted her to the demon-were long before, she had simply chosen to ignore him.
Theirs was a complicated relationship. Mates in their formers lives, it seemed impossible they would ever be united in this one. A bond formed by instinct, a battle in which lives had hung in the balance. Uzume had been forced to take control of Fukurokuju when he had attacked her mortal father, manipulated by those damned druids who had wanted to sacrifice her heart to summon their devil-god. At first the bond had been one-way, but as the days passed she wondered what she had done. She was constantly aware of him in her subconscious and was able to siphon energy from him when necessary. But she found herself drawn more and more to him and wondered if her love of night had been influenced by the demon.
He padded towards her, a huge black wolf with crimson streaks stretching from his eyes to tail. Massive black wings were folded against his back, crimson feathers brushing against her had as he sat down next to her, staring straight ahead. The look in his blood-red eyes were full of reproach - for her injury, for her neglecting to rely on him, for something else. She shrugged, unable to trust the demon-were just yet. He was proving far more reliable than the angel, but past behavior indicated a turn for the worse...
They remained that way, side-by-side, under the unnaturally-bright moon.
Truchlit
Wow, my blog really sucks! It's kind of depressing and mean...
*hangs head in shame*
Well, I can't apologize. It's the only place I can feel I can vent. So what if I bunch of strangers read it. Some of this is stuff I feel bad for dumping on my friends, and some of it is spur-of-the-moment stuff I need to get off my chest before I explode.
I always feel better after typing, though. I actually have characters I keep around just to kill when I'm mad. It's very therapeutic, no matter how weird that sounds.
.......honest!
*hangs head in shame*
Well, I can't apologize. It's the only place I can feel I can vent. So what if I bunch of strangers read it. Some of this is stuff I feel bad for dumping on my friends, and some of it is spur-of-the-moment stuff I need to get off my chest before I explode.
I always feel better after typing, though. I actually have characters I keep around just to kill when I'm mad. It's very therapeutic, no matter how weird that sounds.
.......honest!
Disgust
I hate feeling like I'm in competition. With friends and classmates, it's bad enough. With my own mother? It gets really tiresome.
I love my mom, I do. She's my mother and there's no way I can't love her. I think it's genetically encrypted in me somewhere, because god knows I've got enough reasons to hate/be indifferent to her over the years. But she's selfish, self-centered and acts like we're in competition 3/4 of the time. The other 1/4, she acts like a mom and makes me feel guilty for getting mad, then does it all over again. It's a vicious, complicated cycle that I can't snap out of no matter how hard I try.
What set this off? I'm getting my hair cut today before I start classes, since the pool and sun tend to create split-ends galore. I ask mom if she wants to go, to hang out. Next thing I know, I'm being told to move my appointment up two and a half hours so she can get her nails done at the same time, lest I inconvenience her highness. And when I made the appointment in the first place, she kept giving me a guilt trip about how much it's gonna cost (not much), doesn't your father know (he told me to make it and when'd be best), is it really necessary (unless I want to take scissor to my own head), etc. But it's okay for her to get a manicure that's totally unnecessary that she'll bitch about after she gets it done anyway?
Not fair. When my ex got me a DS for Christmas two years ago, she had to go out and buy one too. When dad got me a desktop because we had one computer and I needed to be on it constantly for schoolwork, pissing mom off in the process - she had to go buy a new computer too. If I'm going out to pick up a game I preordered eight months ago, I get, "Oh, find me some games too." The only reason she didn't get a car when I did, or take mine and give me the minivan, is because my dad nearly went into hysterics when she tried. I was watching a TV series with my friend, one she's got on DVD. I only made it up to the second disc of season one. After watching some with my mom one night, trying to be nice - now she's up to season three and is constantly watching it, doing nothing else.
I know. I'm petty. If she took an interest in stuff to share the fun with me, or something stupid like that, it'd be different. But every time I get something good or nice, she has to either get the same or one-up me. And if she can't, I hear about it. I constantly hear about my car and get guilt trips about it, like I'm going to give it to her or something. Screw that!
I hate it. I want a consistent mom. Either be a bitch all the time so I can decide to hate you, or act like a decent mom all the time so I can maybe work through all the shit you've done to me over the years. She threw a hot frying pan at my head one time, for christ's sake. And my dad? He says I need to just suck it up and be a better daughter.
Goddamnit, people, throw me a fuckin' lifeline.
I love my mom, I do. She's my mother and there's no way I can't love her. I think it's genetically encrypted in me somewhere, because god knows I've got enough reasons to hate/be indifferent to her over the years. But she's selfish, self-centered and acts like we're in competition 3/4 of the time. The other 1/4, she acts like a mom and makes me feel guilty for getting mad, then does it all over again. It's a vicious, complicated cycle that I can't snap out of no matter how hard I try.
What set this off? I'm getting my hair cut today before I start classes, since the pool and sun tend to create split-ends galore. I ask mom if she wants to go, to hang out. Next thing I know, I'm being told to move my appointment up two and a half hours so she can get her nails done at the same time, lest I inconvenience her highness. And when I made the appointment in the first place, she kept giving me a guilt trip about how much it's gonna cost (not much), doesn't your father know (he told me to make it and when'd be best), is it really necessary (unless I want to take scissor to my own head), etc. But it's okay for her to get a manicure that's totally unnecessary that she'll bitch about after she gets it done anyway?
Not fair. When my ex got me a DS for Christmas two years ago, she had to go out and buy one too. When dad got me a desktop because we had one computer and I needed to be on it constantly for schoolwork, pissing mom off in the process - she had to go buy a new computer too. If I'm going out to pick up a game I preordered eight months ago, I get, "Oh, find me some games too." The only reason she didn't get a car when I did, or take mine and give me the minivan, is because my dad nearly went into hysterics when she tried. I was watching a TV series with my friend, one she's got on DVD. I only made it up to the second disc of season one. After watching some with my mom one night, trying to be nice - now she's up to season three and is constantly watching it, doing nothing else.
I know. I'm petty. If she took an interest in stuff to share the fun with me, or something stupid like that, it'd be different. But every time I get something good or nice, she has to either get the same or one-up me. And if she can't, I hear about it. I constantly hear about my car and get guilt trips about it, like I'm going to give it to her or something. Screw that!
I hate it. I want a consistent mom. Either be a bitch all the time so I can decide to hate you, or act like a decent mom all the time so I can maybe work through all the shit you've done to me over the years. She threw a hot frying pan at my head one time, for christ's sake. And my dad? He says I need to just suck it up and be a better daughter.
Goddamnit, people, throw me a fuckin' lifeline.
My Soapbox
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/us_med_hearing_loss_teens
Please read first, so you'll understand what I'm referencing. Trust me, it's worthwhile. Be sure to have a bag or bowl handy.
I am 21, as you can read in my profile. I've been severely hearing impaired since birth; I am deaf in my right ear and mostly in left ear. I have to wear a hearing aid in my left ear in order to hear most anything. When I was five, the school nurse did a routine hearing test and said I was profoundly deaf. I was taken to a specialist and the bastard said I was faking it for attention, as my parents were going through a lot of issues. So for another five years, my parents constantly punished me for ignoring them. Kids my own age thought I was weird and/or stuck up for not paying attention to them and responding. When I was ten, my dear mother finally noticed something was wrong when I always turned my head to look at someone if they talked to me from my right side. To another specialist, I was whisked, to calm her guilty conscience.
Well, my poor doctor. He just about a stroke and spent about thirty minutes berating my parents, demanding to know how they could have a child that's only a few steps from being stone-deaf and never notice anything. My question exactly. When 'deaf' hearing is normal, I obviously couldn't go to my parents and say, oh, I can't hear you. When I did, I was yelled at for back talk. I compensated with lip reading and just guessing at what people were saying - nods and murmurs work very well if you have no idea what the fuck the other person just told you, it's a great party trick.
I got a hearing aid at eighteen when I started college. I was miserable my high school years. People who knew about my 'problem' thought I was a freak and not worth the effort. People who didn't thought - again - that I was stuck-up when in reality, I had no idea someone was sitting in my blind spot, on my deaf side, speaking to me. I had no boyfriends and only two friends who stuck by me. I was homeschooled because the only option in public high school was to have the teacher wear a microphone and I wear a receiver. I'm not stupid. I did not want to be labeled as needing 'special treatment' the first day of high school; so, I fought with my parents until they agreed that as long as my grades remained high, they would keep me home. And so I survived another four years.
College was - is - hell. Professors aren't too bad, as long as they speak loud, because I can see them and read lips for the most part. As for other students, no one likes getting 'what?' back every other time they say something. I can't say I blame them, I get tired of saying it all the time. So, people don't like to repeat themselves every other sentence and I'm tired of making them try. I'm starting a university in two weeks and I'm scared to death. I can't lip-read eight people at once; I can't make everyone turn to face me in a class discussion; I can't, I can't, I can't.
Bitter? You bet. Pissed off? Yep. REALLY FUCKING PISSED after reading that article?
Hell yeah.
The line that really torqued me out was in the sixth paragraph from the top: "A teenager with slight hearing loss might not be able to hear water dripping or his mother whispering "good night."
Well, poor fucking baby. I was called a bad kid, disrespectful, disobedient, bratty, etcetera by my parents and family for years. I still am, since now I apparently use my handicap as an excuse to ignore my parents, because I just love to do that so much.
I wonder how many times my mother whispered 'good night' to me and I didn't hear? Anyone want to bet?
These kids are stupid. Of course you're going to screw your hearing up by blasting your MP3 players in your ears constantly - I can't even listen to music without windows down, no headphones for me. And I'm expected to feel sorry for these kids?
I'm deaf because of a medication my mother took when she was pregnant with me.
They're deaf because they're too arrogant to think that yes, perhaps this can happen to them.
I'm deaf because of a choice my mother made.
They're deaf because of a choice they made.
And I'm way more deaf than these little fucks. I don't even tell most people - it's too much of a hassle, I'd rather fake my way through a conversation than have people yell at me in their ignorant attempts to 'help'. I don't go around looking for sympathy because I never got any and I don't get any now. Every once in a blue moon my parents will feel guilty about it, briefly, for all the punishments and lectures and all the times I was told I was a bad daughter.
You wanna know what happens after they have that brief moment of guilt for something that they didn't cause out of malice and ignored for ten years because they didn't want to admit they had fucked up?
They ask me, "Do you hear that?"
No. I fucking don't hear it. Stop asking me.
Please read first, so you'll understand what I'm referencing. Trust me, it's worthwhile. Be sure to have a bag or bowl handy.
I am 21, as you can read in my profile. I've been severely hearing impaired since birth; I am deaf in my right ear and mostly in left ear. I have to wear a hearing aid in my left ear in order to hear most anything. When I was five, the school nurse did a routine hearing test and said I was profoundly deaf. I was taken to a specialist and the bastard said I was faking it for attention, as my parents were going through a lot of issues. So for another five years, my parents constantly punished me for ignoring them. Kids my own age thought I was weird and/or stuck up for not paying attention to them and responding. When I was ten, my dear mother finally noticed something was wrong when I always turned my head to look at someone if they talked to me from my right side. To another specialist, I was whisked, to calm her guilty conscience.
Well, my poor doctor. He just about a stroke and spent about thirty minutes berating my parents, demanding to know how they could have a child that's only a few steps from being stone-deaf and never notice anything. My question exactly. When 'deaf' hearing is normal, I obviously couldn't go to my parents and say, oh, I can't hear you. When I did, I was yelled at for back talk. I compensated with lip reading and just guessing at what people were saying - nods and murmurs work very well if you have no idea what the fuck the other person just told you, it's a great party trick.
I got a hearing aid at eighteen when I started college. I was miserable my high school years. People who knew about my 'problem' thought I was a freak and not worth the effort. People who didn't thought - again - that I was stuck-up when in reality, I had no idea someone was sitting in my blind spot, on my deaf side, speaking to me. I had no boyfriends and only two friends who stuck by me. I was homeschooled because the only option in public high school was to have the teacher wear a microphone and I wear a receiver. I'm not stupid. I did not want to be labeled as needing 'special treatment' the first day of high school; so, I fought with my parents until they agreed that as long as my grades remained high, they would keep me home. And so I survived another four years.
College was - is - hell. Professors aren't too bad, as long as they speak loud, because I can see them and read lips for the most part. As for other students, no one likes getting 'what?' back every other time they say something. I can't say I blame them, I get tired of saying it all the time. So, people don't like to repeat themselves every other sentence and I'm tired of making them try. I'm starting a university in two weeks and I'm scared to death. I can't lip-read eight people at once; I can't make everyone turn to face me in a class discussion; I can't, I can't, I can't.
Bitter? You bet. Pissed off? Yep. REALLY FUCKING PISSED after reading that article?
Hell yeah.
The line that really torqued me out was in the sixth paragraph from the top: "A teenager with slight hearing loss might not be able to hear water dripping or his mother whispering "good night."
Well, poor fucking baby. I was called a bad kid, disrespectful, disobedient, bratty, etcetera by my parents and family for years. I still am, since now I apparently use my handicap as an excuse to ignore my parents, because I just love to do that so much.
I wonder how many times my mother whispered 'good night' to me and I didn't hear? Anyone want to bet?
These kids are stupid. Of course you're going to screw your hearing up by blasting your MP3 players in your ears constantly - I can't even listen to music without windows down, no headphones for me. And I'm expected to feel sorry for these kids?
I'm deaf because of a medication my mother took when she was pregnant with me.
They're deaf because they're too arrogant to think that yes, perhaps this can happen to them.
I'm deaf because of a choice my mother made.
They're deaf because of a choice they made.
And I'm way more deaf than these little fucks. I don't even tell most people - it's too much of a hassle, I'd rather fake my way through a conversation than have people yell at me in their ignorant attempts to 'help'. I don't go around looking for sympathy because I never got any and I don't get any now. Every once in a blue moon my parents will feel guilty about it, briefly, for all the punishments and lectures and all the times I was told I was a bad daughter.
You wanna know what happens after they have that brief moment of guilt for something that they didn't cause out of malice and ignored for ten years because they didn't want to admit they had fucked up?
They ask me, "Do you hear that?"
No. I fucking don't hear it. Stop asking me.
Důvěra
What if I told you I was not the person you think I am.
What if I told you the most outrageous things.
What if I told you there were things in this world you knew nothing about.
Things that no one in their wildest dreams could possibly believe.
An entire other world that existed within ours, encompassing us all whether we know about it or not.
Would you trust me?
What if I told you there were things I couldn't explain.
Things I couldn't tell you about, but I can tell you they are there.
Could you trust me?
There are so many things that can ruin a relationship.
Lies, secrets, old hurts.
Outlandish things, hurtful things, silly things.
Can you trust me?
Trust is a fragile thing.
Hard-won and easily lost.
Trust is a precious thing.
Would you trust me with yours?
What if I told you the most outrageous things.
What if I told you there were things in this world you knew nothing about.
Things that no one in their wildest dreams could possibly believe.
An entire other world that existed within ours, encompassing us all whether we know about it or not.
Would you trust me?
What if I told you there were things I couldn't explain.
Things I couldn't tell you about, but I can tell you they are there.
Could you trust me?
There are so many things that can ruin a relationship.
Lies, secrets, old hurts.
Outlandish things, hurtful things, silly things.
Can you trust me?
Trust is a fragile thing.
Hard-won and easily lost.
Trust is a precious thing.
Would you trust me with yours?
New Layout
After much searching, I believe I have found a blog I can keep for more than a few days before getting bored with it. Excitement and joy overwhelm me.
Okay, that's a serious exaggeration. It's late - early - however you want to word it, since it's 5:24 am and I haven't slept yet.
I did some serious overhaul. Most noticeably in the layout, of course, and the title. It's in Czech, one of the many cultures I can call my own and one of the most prominent in our family. I thought it would make it more unique, that's my only excuse. I know some foul language, but then thought better of it. If anyone who actually knows Czech saw my blog - which is highly unlikely - I could be banned for the words. So, it's simple.
I hope someone reads my post under this one, I'm rather proud of it! Even if it is sort of depressing. I don't know, something different.
Okay, that's a serious exaggeration. It's late - early - however you want to word it, since it's 5:24 am and I haven't slept yet.
I did some serious overhaul. Most noticeably in the layout, of course, and the title. It's in Czech, one of the many cultures I can call my own and one of the most prominent in our family. I thought it would make it more unique, that's my only excuse. I know some foul language, but then thought better of it. If anyone who actually knows Czech saw my blog - which is highly unlikely - I could be banned for the words. So, it's simple.
I hope someone reads my post under this one, I'm rather proud of it! Even if it is sort of depressing. I don't know, something different.
Dying
She was wounded, limp on the ground. The empty gaze of her dead enemy stared at her from a pool of blood, some of it her own. The moon still hung high in the sky and no other creatures dared draw near the bodies, fearing their power. Destruction was left as a testament to their strength, trees uprooted and lying on their side like twigs.
The pain was unbearable. He had used an angel-slaying sword. Thank God her father had dallied with a Zodiac and not another archangel, or else the poison that was spreading through her body would have killed her by now. It was enough to weaken her to the point of death, however, and she struggled to move. A glimpse of feathers caught her eye and she gagged. Her beautiful left wing, the shades of dawn from the white tip to starry top, was lying on the ground near her. The hunter had ripped it from her body and tossed it on the ground like garbage.
They had said she could kill him herself. He was powerful, this hunter, and knew what she was, knew what to use against her. She asked for help, knew how strong he was, that he was a match. But they had said she could handle it, they had faith. Look where their faith led her, she thought bitterly, as she tried to push herself away from the ground. She had expended too much energy fighting him. The poison was weakening her further, keeping her from healing her wounds. And the pain from her missing wing was worse than any injury his sword could inflict on her.
Uzume caught her breath as she heard someone approach. It was her brother, sent to guard her friend and arriving too late to help in the fight. The youkai and fae had stayed far away; she couldn't blame them. She had been able to kill him, but not without cost. Loki bent down and hauled her to her feet, ignoring the blood she dripped on his finery. A god he may be, but he couldn't heal her. She didn't have the strength to astral project, to leave her body and go to the Realms for healing. And Raphael wasn't coming. He usually came.
Nathanial appeared moments later, distress evident in his eyes as he took in her mutilation. He tucked his own starry wings away and looked at the wound. It wouldn't close, like a leaky faucet that will eventually drain the water dry. Uzume knew that this battle had been far worse than what they had expected - at least, worse than Loki had expected. Her comrades had sent her to fight it alone. They had to have sensed the battle, her waning strength, and yet no help came.
She pulled at the bond with Fukurokuju. It was the first time she had done so and could sense his indignation, his anger as she took his strength as her own. The demon-were could put up with it, would recover quickly. She felt her injuries slowly wrenching together, save for the gaping hole in her back. Uzume wanted to use the bond again, but knew she would kill him if she took anymore. So she went limp as Nathanial did his best and tried not to scream very much when Samael arrived to burn the wound close. There wasn't much strength for screaming anyway.
The sun rose the next day and she drew energy from that as well. From the sun, the air, the distant storms that carried lightening and fire in them. Uzume didn't know how she returned to human form, how she found herself in her own bed, safely locked behind wards lest another enemy come near and sense her weakness. She felt exhausted, drained. As the second day passed in much the same manner, she knew something had to be done lest she die. Crawl to her comrades, tenuous her trust may be, and demand healing. Call in a favor from the vampire she had saved and receive the crudest form of a blood transfusion.
Dying. A young woman in her mortal form and a powerful supernatural goddess in her soul. And she was dying.
The pain was unbearable. He had used an angel-slaying sword. Thank God her father had dallied with a Zodiac and not another archangel, or else the poison that was spreading through her body would have killed her by now. It was enough to weaken her to the point of death, however, and she struggled to move. A glimpse of feathers caught her eye and she gagged. Her beautiful left wing, the shades of dawn from the white tip to starry top, was lying on the ground near her. The hunter had ripped it from her body and tossed it on the ground like garbage.
They had said she could kill him herself. He was powerful, this hunter, and knew what she was, knew what to use against her. She asked for help, knew how strong he was, that he was a match. But they had said she could handle it, they had faith. Look where their faith led her, she thought bitterly, as she tried to push herself away from the ground. She had expended too much energy fighting him. The poison was weakening her further, keeping her from healing her wounds. And the pain from her missing wing was worse than any injury his sword could inflict on her.
Uzume caught her breath as she heard someone approach. It was her brother, sent to guard her friend and arriving too late to help in the fight. The youkai and fae had stayed far away; she couldn't blame them. She had been able to kill him, but not without cost. Loki bent down and hauled her to her feet, ignoring the blood she dripped on his finery. A god he may be, but he couldn't heal her. She didn't have the strength to astral project, to leave her body and go to the Realms for healing. And Raphael wasn't coming. He usually came.
Nathanial appeared moments later, distress evident in his eyes as he took in her mutilation. He tucked his own starry wings away and looked at the wound. It wouldn't close, like a leaky faucet that will eventually drain the water dry. Uzume knew that this battle had been far worse than what they had expected - at least, worse than Loki had expected. Her comrades had sent her to fight it alone. They had to have sensed the battle, her waning strength, and yet no help came.
She pulled at the bond with Fukurokuju. It was the first time she had done so and could sense his indignation, his anger as she took his strength as her own. The demon-were could put up with it, would recover quickly. She felt her injuries slowly wrenching together, save for the gaping hole in her back. Uzume wanted to use the bond again, but knew she would kill him if she took anymore. So she went limp as Nathanial did his best and tried not to scream very much when Samael arrived to burn the wound close. There wasn't much strength for screaming anyway.
The sun rose the next day and she drew energy from that as well. From the sun, the air, the distant storms that carried lightening and fire in them. Uzume didn't know how she returned to human form, how she found herself in her own bed, safely locked behind wards lest another enemy come near and sense her weakness. She felt exhausted, drained. As the second day passed in much the same manner, she knew something had to be done lest she die. Crawl to her comrades, tenuous her trust may be, and demand healing. Call in a favor from the vampire she had saved and receive the crudest form of a blood transfusion.
Dying. A young woman in her mortal form and a powerful supernatural goddess in her soul. And she was dying.
Update of my Life
Nooot that anyone cares, since only my friends read it and they already know what's going on with me.
After much soul searching, I've decided to go visit my dad's mother in NJ with him on Wednesday. The decision was hard for a few reasons, all of which are too complicated to get into on a blog. I don't hate the woman - I just don't give a shit whether she dies or not in the end. At first, I told my dad that I didn't want to go up. And then I started thinking about it and realized that I don't want to be like the rest of my family, all of whom do nothing but hold grudges and never take the moral high road because it's harder. I also realized that if I don't go up and it ends up being the last chance I get, I will be disgusted with myself for the rest of my life for being so pathetic and selfish.
Besides, as my friend Anne pointed out - someone needs to remember the halva.
My brother's coming back from boot camp in about two weeks. I can't wait, to be honest. Partly because I miss the kid and partly to get my parents out of my hair! Oi! I'll get the house to myself for four days while they're gone, so I'll have plenty of time to sit on my video games and turn into a vegetable. Hooray!
Wow, my blog is really boring and not full of insights in the least. I'll have to work on that....
......next post.
After much soul searching, I've decided to go visit my dad's mother in NJ with him on Wednesday. The decision was hard for a few reasons, all of which are too complicated to get into on a blog. I don't hate the woman - I just don't give a shit whether she dies or not in the end. At first, I told my dad that I didn't want to go up. And then I started thinking about it and realized that I don't want to be like the rest of my family, all of whom do nothing but hold grudges and never take the moral high road because it's harder. I also realized that if I don't go up and it ends up being the last chance I get, I will be disgusted with myself for the rest of my life for being so pathetic and selfish.
Besides, as my friend Anne pointed out - someone needs to remember the halva.
My brother's coming back from boot camp in about two weeks. I can't wait, to be honest. Partly because I miss the kid and partly to get my parents out of my hair! Oi! I'll get the house to myself for four days while they're gone, so I'll have plenty of time to sit on my video games and turn into a vegetable. Hooray!
Wow, my blog is really boring and not full of insights in the least. I'll have to work on that....
......next post.
RANT
I HATE this. I really, truly do.
I go out today with a group of friends. I actually go on a semi-double-date with my friend, her boyfriend, and their friend. I had fun, went to see The Sorcerer's Apprentice and hung out at the mall. Then spent most of the night with said friend at her house talking. In a really good mood.
I get home, after much harassment about being out late when I'm never out late to begin with. Am asked if I had fun by mom. Yep, lots! How was your day? Etc. I look at my dad and tell him the movie was really good, we'll have to go see it sometime. And I get, "Well, I'll just go by myself."
I HATE THAT.
He always does that. They both do it! They're always telling me to go have fun, do whatever, don't worry. So I do, sometimes. And WHEN I do, I get a passive-aggressive guilt-trip by, oh, he's just kidding, stop getting mad! But it's mean and it hurts my feelings. Because how am I supposed to be a 21 year-old woman and go out and do new things with my friends if I'm made to feel like I should have waited for my parents - and when I do, I usually miss out on said thing anyway. So what the fuck? Hello!
I go out today with a group of friends. I actually go on a semi-double-date with my friend, her boyfriend, and their friend. I had fun, went to see The Sorcerer's Apprentice and hung out at the mall. Then spent most of the night with said friend at her house talking. In a really good mood.
I get home, after much harassment about being out late when I'm never out late to begin with. Am asked if I had fun by mom. Yep, lots! How was your day? Etc. I look at my dad and tell him the movie was really good, we'll have to go see it sometime. And I get, "Well, I'll just go by myself."
I HATE THAT.
He always does that. They both do it! They're always telling me to go have fun, do whatever, don't worry. So I do, sometimes. And WHEN I do, I get a passive-aggressive guilt-trip by, oh, he's just kidding, stop getting mad! But it's mean and it hurts my feelings. Because how am I supposed to be a 21 year-old woman and go out and do new things with my friends if I'm made to feel like I should have waited for my parents - and when I do, I usually miss out on said thing anyway. So what the fuck? Hello!
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