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Literature
How are you Today?
People always ask questions they don't really want to know the answer to; questions like 'how much is this?', 'do you really love me?', 'have you read the terms and conditions?' and the Big One. People are always asking things they don't want a real answer for, honesty is a highly prized commodity so long as no one's dealing in it; everyone is totally convinced they can live in a continued state of denial so long as there's an unspoken agreement that nobody digs past the surface of the issue.
Chances are you'll hear the Big One half a dozen times a day, unless you're agoraphobic or a hermit. And almost every single time you'll answer with a variation on the bog standard; 'not bad, thanks', 'good' or the mistaken 'great, how's yours?' Not one person actually expects you to tell them that you're afraid of dying alone, that you just got the phone call that your mother just died, or that you walked in on your husband doing the Nasty with his best mate.
If you answered honestly, the poor fo
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Literature
Dear Missing, From Forgotten(?)
Dear Missing,
I know I haven't written in a while, but I just thought I should let you know... That there's something I don't know that either of us ever realised about what we are, or were. (Or what we assumed we were at a dozen points in time.) You've changed from the person you were, the person I knew intimately, without ever being a part of you. You're more You, than you used to be; but you're still the You you were.
It's confusing.
And it hurts, or at least it hurts me because what are we? What happened to us being no more than what we wanted, to something that no longer exists except in my memory, because you've probably forgotten. I can't and don't really blame you either. I guess I kind of designed it this way, and Life was more than willing to help.
But as much as I hate that I can't talk to you about inane things, or that you can talk to me about... Whatever we talked about, I'm happy for you. That you're happy, and growing. Moving through things with a sharper smile, and a d
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Literature
The Dance
It twists and twines; enraptured and repulsed by its own measure
Thick and thin it spirals, never ending.
Not noticing the blush that stains like a rose's scarlet skirt
or the tattoo that bleeds out from a set of nervous fingers.
It descends on those unsuspecting
Sweeping forward to embrace; like a wave to the shore.
Outlasting or outcasting from the grammar of convention
existing in a world, regardless of day's fading glow.
Nameless in contention, but voiceless in rejection
defining the interaction of the flower with the bee.
A silver silence or the golden moment it is broken
the movement remains a tango of corruption.
Seduction of emotion, exploitation of moments into eternity
beguiled and enchanted into a fall of commotion
A moment of weakness, wrapped with a bow
stark against the patchwork of life
It lies bound in its own already altered form
fresh from the cradle of mutual devotion
Thirsty for the bloom of a bouquet
nature herself cannot imagine
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Literature
Thorns
They trickled down the window pane, and were deposited safely in an ever growing puddle on the sill. The little pieces of the pain given understandable form, created only so often as to replace the one that had finished the run. Simple tears. They caught and refracted the flickering light shed by the candle, the only source of light in the room. It seemed easier for her to deal with the pain, when she couldn't catch sight of herself in a mirror, couldn't increase the well of self pity she was drowning in. When she didn't have to face the light, the long nights seemed easier.
So caught was she within the depths, that the press of cold glass on her cheek was barely noticed. Hidden in the recesses of her mind. But the still present part was thankful of the harshness; it seemed in perfect harmony with her thoughts, so wrapped in thorns they seemed impossible to untangle.
The clarity of the thought shocked her. Thorns; digging into flesh, boring into the marrow of the bones, bleeding her dr
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Literature
City of Memory
Those that visit that distant shimmer over the horizon call it the 'city of desires'; place where dreams are said to be realised and then forgotten, between one moment and the next. Those that inhabit a city where towers scrape the sky, and all is edged in precious metals, inlaid with semi-precious stones, call it the 'city where dreams come to die'. It is said that no man has walked the streets and left with all that he came with. A select few can enter the walls and remain past those moments, free from the seductive song that seems to sweep along the alleyways, and byways that cross the City of Memory.
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Literature
One Thousand, Nintey-Five and Three-Quarter Days
One thousand, ninety-five and three-quarter days.
Thirty-six months.
Three years.  
That was how long it had taken to get a degree. It was how long it took to realise that the place you grow up in, is possible to grow out of. It was about thirty-six and a half times longer than the probationary period with International Affairs.
It was the amount of time since we'd shared more than a simple conversation. It marked time where I pushed you to a place in the back of my mind so I wouldn't have to remember you in the middle of the night. It was the space of time since I'd last promised myself I would cry.
I was happy. It wasn't just a superficial happiness either; there was a sense of contentment that had permeated me to the marrow. I'd also managed to irrevocably contract a pride in myself, in my work and at having put my official studies behind me. University had left me largely unscathed with a somewhat larger ego than I had started with, and yet my family seemed delighted at t
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Literature
Breaking...
She watched from the door way as the car pulled out from the curb, and drove down the street before it disappeared around the corner. It had been awkward, but she supposed things like that always were. But it was the first step.
*
  They offered each other small smiles. Small, fragile smiles offered from one fractured heart to the other. Uncomfortable hellos, which were often left to confused interpretation when they met. They weren't them any more, but neither really thought they would be what they were after it all. One didn't want the other, whilst the other wasn't sure what they wanted. But it was the second step.
*
  She managed short conversations. He studied his shoes whenever he replied. Meaningless, yet somehow meaningful to whoever was watching. They weren't sure what to say, so much had changed. They'd gotten what they wanted; now they weren't sure how to handle with the aftermath. But it was the third step.
*
  It was strange for them to attend
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Literature
Dear Almost Perfet
Dear Almost Perfect,
Don't know why I'm writing to you again other than I needed to talk to you... I guess you could say that I miss you. But at the same time I really don't. I hate knowing that after everything we're not going to see each other any more, because we both want to forget. Don't we? I guess it's "Life's Lesson". I found something today that reminded me of you. Hated that you were the first thing I thought of though.
Has anyone told you that you're addicting? The perfect combination of sounds. You made the flaws disappear into something that was almost tangible. I know you said that you weren't perfect but being human means you're not.
I never once wished that you were different. People're always looking for perfection when it's sitting right in front of them. Perfection is relevant I've decided, you see. Maybe you don't remember it all... You're always looking to forget until it's something unavoidable. Maybe it's time you opened your eyes and realised...
Everything's dif
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Hidden Vineyard by Blissful-Day-Dreamer Hidden Vineyard :iconblissful-day-dreamer:Blissful-Day-Dreamer 2 0
Literature
After the Bombs...
It was a full moon in an almost cloudless sky, the occasional wisp would dash across the full face like a veil, or a badly hidden smirk. The city was dark. The street lamps were extinguished at 12 am, leaving the few lurking earthly shadows only the moon as illumination on the auspicious night. One night a week they were given to wander the ruined city, it's once immense skyscrapers half collapsed from the bombs. For those that hadn't been unlucky or lucky, depending on who was asked, to be caught in the radiation this night was called the Night of the Fallen. In the underground circles it was called Hellion. I called it a night on the town.
***
I was thirteen when the bombs first fell.
Whispers in the night, and only ones you could hear if you listened very, very carefully, spoke of the coming war. World War III was what the adults had called it. I had called it unlikely to happen. First to fall was America. Then went the United Kingdom. And then China... It was the domino effect at i
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Literature
Heartless
She looked down at the book. It sat turned to the page covered with an archaic scrawl. A slim finger ran down the page, stopping at words almost too faded to decipher before continuing on its journey. The ritual itself was simple. The theory and rumours surrounding the legend made it seem impossible. But there was a smile that made the lips twitch.
Too perfect, and almost too easy to believe for what it was to accomplish.
One eye on the page, she focused on the knife work with the other. Through fire lit from a holy candle it wavered. Then slid through water from the Dead Sea. It carved through the earth from a saint's grave and still shone in the artificial light.
To her left sat a velvet lined chest. Inscribed with a language said to be the base of the Tower of Babel, it sat with its lid back. A gaping mouth waiting to receive a treat.  To her right sat the book. One line left to follow.
One instruction before completion.
One incision before absolution.
No rhymes, or pretty
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Literature
A Reunion to Remember...
I held up my hands in surrender as I backed out the sliding door, the unofficial front door to the house belonging to Liss and her daughters, as the yelling quickly downgraded to what I was sure would be a tug-of-war over the Wii remotes and then sulking by one of the Twins until Jen tormented her out of it.
My own laughter echoed inside my head as I slid the door closed on the somewhat more controlled cousins in the smaller home. I smiled and shook my head in delight at having all the family in the one place, chaotic and hellish as it was. But then... We'd not expected any less.
The boys had, for the most part, escaped to the top pub for what would be three or four hours of drinks in celebration of my father's sixtieth birthday. I was unsurprised that my uncle, father and the two Denman husbands were crowded around some collaborative invention of Wayne's, drinking Steven's home brew while suggestions were thrown around. Trouble waiting to happen... Mum or Liss is gonna shoot 'em I bet
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Literature
Holly and Oak
I sat leaning against the trunk. Branches stretched out above my head keeping me from the sun's rays. It felt like the middle of summer despite only being early spring. I'd escaped from the stifling indoors to where the breeze could reach me. It was nice, different from the cold of winter. I closed the book in my lap. It was obvious I was going to get no further. Not when I felt like running. I took off shoes and stockings. To dig my toes into rich, cool earth. I shook off the grass that clung to my skirts and took off in the direction of the forest boundary.
The sun filtered through in spots, the leaf litter and dirt bright in contrast with the rest. It was humid under the canopy. The air was heavy with history and moisture. Forests always feel old, even the youngest of them are older than we are. It's nice to know that, no matter how dire your problems are... A walk amongst the trees reminds you that they have seen far worse and lived to tell the tale. It's nice to feel insignificant
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Literature
Why Tonight...
The dripping of a single continuous drop seemed to echo in her ears, the grey of the overhanging clouds seemed a mirror of her mood and her knees were stained black from tears. Her words had torn at him she knew, and she didn't even remember the reason. Perhaps it was because he wasn't focused upon her; harsh and thorned like a desert cactus, instead of someone that threw off beams of light.
She could feel her heart breaking; cracks forming then growing, spreading across what had once been fertile, fracturing in ways she wasn't sure could be repaired. It was the kind of ache that came from the loss of family, the suffering of loved ones and the knowledge that it was all because of you.
She curled into a ball, pressing her back against solid stone. Feeling the tears rise within her, she clenched her fist driving nails into her palm, drawing blood. Her only though was 'why did you have to be right...'
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Literature
Hell
It was a blank canvas of a place; all shadows and flickering light that had no source but seemed like lightning; illuminating one rock face than another. Again. And again. It seemed to the figure that it was as if the earth had opened itself, revealing the darker heart. He raised a hand to block the flashing light, only for it to change directions and cast shadows where it had once shone. What he did not notice was the female figure that was in shadow one moment light the next and then vanished into the darkest places along the rock face, coming towards him. Stalking more like eyes lit from within by a feral glow, fangs an unearthly white when the flashes saw fit to strike her pale skin out from the blackish rock.
Then there! He saw the flash of her teeth before the light blinked out. Then again he caught the whites of her eyes as she leapt at him before dissipating into smoke. "Are you afraid...?"
The voice echoed in the chasm seeming to be far away, sounding feminine but strong. He t
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Literature
Fire and Water
Fire burns. Water drowns. The two combine destroy.  House forces unlike any other in one tiny place built of flesh. And watch the two consume. Not any other than themselves.
Fire lives. Water breathes. Yet neither have a pulse. Give them one and watch the dance begin in truthful earnest.
Opened hearts to the strengths and hope you aren't burnt out. None survive the endless dance.
Walk along a razor edge. Dare to leap from foot to foot. Fall to watery grave? Or die by candle light?
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Activity


Small journal, just to get rid of the last one..

Starting university is one of the scariest, most exciting thing someone can do. But sometimes, it's where you end up because you don't know what else to do.

Roads are not always easy to travel, or easy to find until you're standing right on top of it.. But the fear of treading off the beaten path shouldn't stop you from walking where your heart tells you to go.


~~~~


I haven't been writing much for the past few months, being caught up with my studies and life, but hopefully I'll get some new pieces and maybe some new photo's up.

Hope 2012 is being good to you.
  • Listening to: Lady Antebellum
  • Reading: Sebastian-- Anne Bishop
  • Watching: Game of Thrones

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Blissful-Day-Dreamer
Nobody Special
Artist | Student | Literature
Australia
I walk a lonely path...
One of shadows and light.
I exist in a realm of dreams,
hidden behind the hills of reality,
where no-one can reach the depths
A place where I can rule
and no one sees the darkness that lies within...
But within that darkness burns the light.
Trials and hardships make me strong,
but the lunar tides sooth the savage soul...

Current Residence: Dancing on Dreams, Swimming in Stardust

Personal Quote: I'm a condradiction... Stop trying to figure me out
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Friends

Comments


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:iconcelem:
Celem Featured By Owner Jul 19, 2014  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the :+fav: on my stream and shiny rocks pic :)
Reply
:iconblissful-day-dreamer:
Blissful-Day-Dreamer Featured By Owner Jul 20, 2014  Student Writer
It's very lovely :)
Reply
:iconsurvy:
Survy Featured By Owner Sep 4, 2013  Professional General Artist
Hey  !
Thank u soo much for the fave on my Tattoo Ricky!!!!
greetz
:frail:
Reply
:iconblissful-day-dreamer:
Blissful-Day-Dreamer Featured By Owner Sep 6, 2013  Student Writer
Pleasure, you've got some pretty epic designs in your gallery :D
Reply
:icontvd-photography:
TVD-Photography Featured By Owner Nov 23, 2012  Professional Photographer
Thank you for the faves :huggle: ^-^
Reply
:iconblissful-day-dreamer:
Blissful-Day-Dreamer Featured By Owner Nov 23, 2012  Student Writer
My pleasure, you have some wonderful shots in your gallery :D
Reply
:iconwordofchen:
WordOfChen Featured By Owner Nov 21, 2012  Professional Writer
Hey there matey, thanks fer the watch on me poetry. :iconponyclapplz:

I'm probably really late with the thanks and all but that's how it happens eh :iconderpplz:

Anyway, I hope you'll continue to enjoy my works now that I'm back from me exams and all, plus I've got more live episodes of my show out, so come check those too :iconbadassplz:

Um, nothing much else I can say except that I'm honoured that you'd watch me ^^. Thanks again mate, may the winds be ever at your back :iconahoiplz:

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:
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:iconblissful-day-dreamer:
Blissful-Day-Dreamer Featured By Owner Nov 21, 2012  Student Writer
My pleasure sir :D
Reply
:iconwordofchen:
WordOfChen Featured By Owner Nov 22, 2012  Professional Writer
Ain't no sir here. I'm just a pirate xD

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:
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:iconstonedsour887:
stonedsour887 Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thank you for the fav :)
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