Ready for the time of year
Where little faerie bugs hum in your ear?

Remember the summers
Where everything was exciting,
Our hearts igniting,
And there was no dream  of fighting?

I recall the past
Where our feelings were true,
Forever wanting them to last.

And now we're here.
I feel your denial coming in quite clear.
The summers are not warm,
They're cold.
Longing for the days of old.

'Tis a shame,
For my summers never end.
I want you now
Just like I wanted you then.
But I'll wait for you to be done playing pretend,
So we can get on with the greater joys again.

What Will Grow Crooked...

When the light shines and it burns our eyes, we look away in denial because we can handle anything.

Supporting the underdog doomed to die only ensures a fixed position in life, 6 feet under the underdog.

Making the wrong friends to piss off the right ones will get you far for sure.

Living in pain everyday is an indicator of nothing?

I laugh my ass off because crying is getting old.

Old Alunae Snippet

I've been writing a lot recently and I've been sifting through the ever-so-impending stack of papers that is everything that is Alunae up until this point.  Let's see, 3 binders, 2, 3 subject notebooks, and 2 folders (including a Chuck Norris one) folder filled to the limit with all my past notes, writings, alternative stories, versions, etc... I've re-started that particular novel 5 times and have more or less written it entirely 2 times over.  Needless to say, there's a lot.

Anyway, one of the best finds was a brief excerpt from Captain Jonathan's point of view, originally written April 10, 2011.  Ironically, I found and read this exactly 3 years after it was originally written... so I thought, "That's pretty neat."  So Ima share it...

    What makes her that way?  The way she teases me, tortures me without a word.  Her gaze deconstructs everything I have ever known and reassembles it all back according to her design...  And quite honestly I'm unaware of what that is precisely.

    What to do?

    This is no pleasant or desired state to find one's self in... somewhere between the walks of life's true beauty and utmost agony.

    I study from afar, I admire in proximity, and there I shall remain.

    Others do not understand, let alone appreciate her for how truly remarkable she is.  They tread so closely, so blindly, so confidently.  Alas, they do not deserve her.  I do not deserve her.

J. Harold


Aw.  What a sad romantic.