Birthday • 1992-04-21 Gender •
Male Location • in my work space, writing Member Since • 2007-04-14 Occupation • songwriter, vocalist Real Name • winfield
Personal
Achievements • i'm in a band with my friends called "the mistake" :) Anime Fan Since • ever Favorite Anime • too many Goals • well, i want to make a name from my writings worldwide, and be paid for it Hobbies • music Talents • drawing, writing, and not math
myOtaku.com: Angel of Strife
Welcome to my site archives. 10 posts are listed per page.
especially cynical today
yes, this is me
hey, i'm just in a pretty shitty mood. i'm more cynical than usual today, so just don't do anything that might piss me off. i'm not in any mood. :)
Diary of the Heiress
yes, this is me
here's my first real stab at a thriller/horror story. ^^ enjoy
“Diary of the Heiress”
DAY ONE
Today is a very good day for me.
My, it’s a very good day indeed.
I’m driving with my husband. For you see,
His dear, old aunt passed away,
And I’m the heiress to her dear, old house.
Indeed, today is a very good day.
Now I suppose you can say I have greed,
But “greed” isn’t a word I’d like to use.
Ah, well, maybe you might not understand
How some things are meant for me to abuse,
That is, once those things are in my hand.
I suppose my soul may be heartless to be,
But I only liked her for her money.
DAY TWO
I don’t think the old hag ever liked me.
But then again, I doubt she ever had.
She looked at me like her worst enemy,
Even whenever she finally died.
But I don’t think I was really that bad.
I remember that day, when she lied
In that old-looking hospital bed.
I was filled with excitement, intense,
Since I knew she would never recover.
I faked all the sadness within my head,
As real tears filled the eyes of my lover.
Knowing what she’d give, being happy made sense.
I was sitting there, crossing my fingers
As miserable life somehow lingers.
She may have known I was happy for her death,
Since she murmured something vengeful in her last breath.
But I’m not afraid of her silly “curse,”
Since there isn’t such a thing as a “ghost.”
I’d have to say she amuses me the most
With her silly, little, useless, vengeful verse.
Don’t mention her “curse.” I’ll just laugh harder.
I’ll think about being nice, and humor her.
DAY THREE
The old woman amused me through the years,
Even today, when I should have tears.
She always said I had an ugly heart,
With a life that deserves to be torn apart.
Well, maybe it’s true, and perhaps she’s right.
But I’m the one with her money tonight.
However, my husband really owns it all,
But it would be mine once his body would fall.
Here we are, at his aunt’s dear, old house,
With its cobwebs, and perhaps a mouse.
Scurrying by, is indeed, a mouse!
And if my greed would happen to get me tonight,
I’ll slip my love too many sleeping pills from my purse,
So the money would be mine by the end of the night.
And even now, I still laugh at that old lady’s “curse.”
DAY FOUR
Perhaps this house would make a pretty penny,
But the problem is that my husband might stop me.
But I still remember, within my person, pills!
Then, the thorn in my side will be beneath the hills!
Oh, I suppose that you could say it’s a shame
That I’d bury him in the Almighty Dollar’s name.
But, come on! Is there really a “love,” anyway?
There’s really none, once you see it die every day.
Some would call it “sick,” and you might call it “wrong,”
But the Almighty Dollar’s what’s brought me along
This miserable marriage through all these years.
He has my “love;” I’ve his money, so we’ve no tears.
But then, I saw upon the age-old wall,
A twisting, bizarre shape that would appall.
It appeared to be my old auntie’s face,
And while I stared with sweat, my heart raced its pace.
I quickly turned, and looked at my husband,
And said that I think I saw our auntie!
When we looked, it was gone! Did he not see?!
Maybe that old hag really does haunt this land!
DAY FIVE
It can’t be! There isn’t such a thing as a ghost!
Oh Dear, what was I saying?! Have I gone insane?!
Dear God, have I completely lost my mind?!
What if she’s real?! It might have been wrong to boast!
God forbid I be the one the guys in white find!
But what if she does want revenge for my disdain?!
Now I feel something ice-cold upon my shoulder!
It feels like someone’s hand! It’s the old hag’s hand!
Don’t say I’m paranoid! Things won’t get better!
Why can’t my husband see her?! He won’t understand!
Why can’t that useless husband of mine see she’s there?
All he sees when I scream is just thin air!
Oh, my darling husband can be dense at times,
And he can’t realize I only want the dimes!
My word, can he be the annoyance to me?!
He’s too dense to realize I only want money!
Somebody! Heaven! Hell! Tell me what’s wrong with him!
Tell me why the brain in his skull is so dim!
I think inheriting the house will be fun.
I’ve always enjoyed the night, especially this one.
But tonight, I would have to wait until he’s sleeping.
It’ll be so painless, he’ll not think of weeping.
From within the air, what’s the sound I’m hearing?!
Is it that old woman’s ghost I’ve been fearing?!
It can’t be! But what else could it ever be?!
That old hag came back to terrorize me!
I feel her cold hands on me, and I hear her speak
As my blood rushes and sweat drips down my cheek!
I hear the old bat’s whispering in my ear!
That old woman’s here! She really is here!
I can hear her, but I don’t know what she’s saying!
…Must not think of her…Must not think about her…
Need to forget about her wants for murder…
…Just hold on to that plan to get the house before…
…Everything’s mine when his body hits the floor…
…Midnight now…he should tire any minute now…
Who cares if I’m mad? Soon his life will take a bow…
…Now! He grows weary, and leaves up to his bed…
I can smell the reaper though he’s not yet dead…
His precious auntie watches every move I make,
Every breathe, and every single step I take…
Oh, it really isn’t a bother, anyway…
…As long as the land is mine before the next day…
You know, sometimes, I’ve regretted marrying him…
He’s got money, so it’s worth him being dim…
That almost useless man should be asleep at this time…
…I’ll have it all once I get rid of that slime…
…My, these stairs seem almost without an end…
Each step, they squeak and squeak and squeak and squeak and squeak!
Oh, Darling, soon you’ll join your aunt without a shriek,
And perhaps then, she’ll be your even closer friend…
Ah…here in this comfy bed, my darling lies…
He swallows my pills in his sleep, and soon, he dies…
DAY SIX
Oh, and good morning to you, my now deceased love…
Oh, how I weep false tears for your soul to take flight
To the heavens from the start during the night…
I guess it turns out we weren’t truly hand in glove…
Now, what’s this? It feels as a cold breeze ‘round my throat…
…Now, the chilly breeze turns into an icy coat…
Heavy breathes come from the entity before me…
As the squeezes tightly and painfully…
Now, I can see its face with rage in its eyes…
Such rage from his auntie that could dare despise…
Now, blood in my neck starts to cease as my breathes do…
Well, I suppose this is the end of my tale…
As her icy wrath will continue to hail…
Goodbye, World, and who reads this journal, you too.
Maybe I’ll see you if you visit someday.
Who knows? You just might. I’m not that far away…
I'm just depressed right now. It's just that I really miss Sami, and sometimes, I just lose every bit of hope. I might as well just sit here until something happens, and I finally roll over. I probably won't see her any sooner anyway :'(
CHILDREN ARE PEOPLE, NOT THINGS
yes, this is me
This is about the godless act of child abuse. I have first hand experience with child abuse, so don't think I don't know what I'm talking about. Children are people, not objects. They need us, so we should protect them. People don't realize that out of human beings, children are the most innocent and fragile.
“Beaten Lamb”
That child has a lot more feelings than you know.
You stand there, and scar the child’s innocent mind,
And somehow, you can walk about with a smile.
Whenever you beat him, it scars more than his skin.
It scars him down to his petrified soul within.
When the beaten lamb looks for love, what will he find?
Maybe he’ll find a dream where he’s loved by his mommy.
Maybe he’ll find a dream where he’s loved by his daddy.
Or maybe a dream that will only turn vile.
When the beaten lamb runs away, where can he go?
On black midnights, when the child should be asleep,
He’ll lie there, without a dream, and only weep.
When he cries for help, will people just pass him by,
Or will other scarred children maybe hear his cry?
When the beaten lamb looks for peace, what will he see?
Maybe he’ll find open arms, or just more cruelty.
Maybe one day, all of the screaming will cease.
Even if it’s in the next world, he’ll still find peace.
especially cynical today 
Sing me to sleep 
The man in gauze! King Ramses!