myOtaku.com: sailorcrystal

myO Still <3's You

Vitals

Birthday
• 1991-01-05
Gender
• Female
Location
• throughout the vast infosphere network
Member Since
• 2004-05-05
Occupation
• metal collecter
Real Name
• Nazo or what most of my friends call me...Dracula..

Personal

Achievements
• pulling myself apart for others, achieving peace with myself
Anime Fan Since
• 5, ( sailormoon 1st aired)
Favorite Anime
• descendents of darkness, tsubasa,chrono crusade, FMA, rurouni kenshin,fruits basket,naruto,trigun, full moon,aria,ghost in the shell, clamp works, and others
Goals
• collect even more manga, and rid the world of my misfortunate cousin
Hobbies
• reading, collecting manga, sometimes writing poems, and collecting pieces of metal.
Talents
• expressing emotion in the ocassional poem, and serious devotion and loyalty

myOtaku.com: sailorcrystal

Wednesday, August 9, 2006

the last romantic demo
Starting off at a point in the center leaves you at no end. As I sit here in the dark, under candles and shadows dance on the walls. Words litter pretty sheets of papyrus only to be torn at the crack of dawn. I have a story to tell, but I want to refrain from too much exposure. This tiny fable is fragmented as I throw it against a wall.

As an innocent, you spend your time dreaming of happy endings and passionate nights that only a youth could paint.
When in the reality outside your dream world gives a rude awakening. I want to refrain from too much controversey, let the atheists rest my soul. I still seemed to be stuck at a crossroads in my unrelenting tale. Not like I expect anyone to listen to my woes. A glance toward the clock shows 4 in the morning, yet I still want to finsh this tale, this long rant of a woe.

I do not expect cynics to understand these feeling that are rapping on the door to my battered heart. I am famished, exhausted and tired, yet still the papyrus litters the floor as an ocean of beige contour. A sigh of disappointment here, and a crowd of nasty rumors there. I still seem to be suffering. My personal woe is as the stories that litter the papyrus ocean on my floors.

Stories incrypted with bloodlust, betrayal, and broken hearts. I saw them and my petty sufferings faded as their profile was in my heart as my mind. A slow friendship followed as I grew rather more fond of their inner light. I spent my days dreaming of them and sighing with a private happiness. I was laughed at, but then one could care less. There was plenty of romantics, the century was filled with them.

this is just a test run.

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