The was me after The Queen asked me if my math homework was getting any better... whatever.
Well, Red should be getting home from school soon and she's going to kick me off the computer, so I might as well hurry up. Ah, everybody talks about hating Mondays and wishing they didn't exist, but... then it would just be hating on Tuesdays all the time... and the whole process would go on until weeks didn't exist at all. o.o which would rip apart the time space continium! So, sadly, we must endure them.
It getting colder and colder! Now we just have to wait for a rainy day. :)
Oy, rain and snow and coldness always gives me inspiration. I just wanna go write fifty poems about it all on my morning room roof. OH WAIT. I DON'T HAVE A MORNING ROOM ROOF TO SNEAK OUT ON ANYMORE. Thanks for ratting me out, T.D. But I did write a bit of a story I might continue on a website called Quizilla. Here it is:
She drummed her fingers on the keyboard, waiting for inspiration. She tried painfully to focus, but her eyes were always drawn again to the endless, repetitive rain that fell outside. It's maddening plip-plip sounds echoed through the huge house like a million pennies being dropped on the roof. The sycamore trees that lined the gravel driveway swayed in the violent wind, beat down by the inexhaustable pouring of water from the clouds that were ripped open that morning. The last morning Kale might ever be happy again.
Pain always brought inspiration. It was what drove her skills, her imagination. She harnessed the heartache and used it for something better than what it was. That was the only way to escape the despair. But now... for the first time in her life, the pain that seared into her memory the brand of James' facepealed at every layer Kale had ever closed around her. Every time she shed a tear, she pulled up another layer. Every time she screamed and threw her fist hard at the wall, another layer. For eight years she'd done so. Now... every layer, peeled back, burnt, destroyed. Her only protection, the thing that closed her in and shut even the sun out, ripped from Kale's hands in that hung-up phone call. Again.
The rain continued. It fell in long sheets as steady as ever.
Kale thought shehad cried every tear her body could possibly have produced. But one again, she felt a hot, uncomfortable line fall down her cheek and a soft plip as the single tearlanded on her lap.Kale ceased her drumming of the keyboard and put her face in her hands, feeling for the millionth time that daythe wave of dread and numb disbelief seize over the pit of her stomach. James couldn't be gone. It was simply impossible.
"I can't do this anymore," Kale breathed, her chest quivering. With her shell gone once again, she felt exposed, raw... vulnerable. She glanced back at the drive way. The rain could devour everything. The sky, the trees, the grass, the dirt, soaking and destroying and sweeping away every sign of happiness or joy. But somehow it was tauntingly comforting, painfully awestriking. Nothing could escape the rain. Just like how Kale could not escape the tearing of her heart and James took a piece of it away with him. Any minute now his cheap,scarlet truck would come noisily grinding up the gravel, her best friend waiting for her to come running through the rain to hop in beside him. She waited, but as she knew it, nothing happened.
Kale closed her eyes and focused again on the rain. All was unbearably silent but that.Every plip whispered to her like one voice: We are the tears wasted. You never should have cried for him. He never deserved a single tear. Every tear shedfor one who lied, pretendedcheated you of joy... we are those tears.Tears wasted.
Kale looked at the keyboard and for a fleeting moment, there was a spark of inspiration. With shaking hands, she began to paw over the keys, it's tapping drowning out the sound of the maddening, whisperings of the rain.
Tears Wasted.
So, yeah, we'll see where that goes. Showdown grows ever more interesting, while schoolwork does not.. this picture pretty much describes me:
:) Now, to my guitar lesson where I will surely push my fingers to the point of falling off and make up some excuse for not practicing. *sigh* I think I may have to stop the lessons... They make me feel like a terrible person xD Well! See you tomorrow!
Nightingale~
P.S. We got a new car! Did I already mention that? :/
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