~~This Time It's Different by Evans Blue~~

Language Barriers?

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

~~You're KIDDING ME!!!!--A v.v Post~~

Alright kiddies, ya see that speech? Guess what I have to memorize....I have to perform it in drama class today. X.X Wish me luck!


My name is Haley. William Haley. I live in an apartment in a big city—it doesn't matter which. Every night my apartment is very quiet and…very empty. Dead. No sounds except for the traffic from the street below, maybe some background music on the radio. The clock.
My life is just as quiet. Just as empty. Dead. Every night after I fall asleep I have a dream. The same dream, night after night.
It always begins the same way, with a large black and white map of the city. At the center of the map is a heavy black X. around the X are a number of concentric circles. In the center of the X a small red dot appears. It's as if this tiny needlepoint of red light is somehow connected to some hidden part of my brain. The dot opens up and color ripples out around it into a scale that fades away at the edges of the outermost circle.
It's always at this moment that I realize that this is the kind of map that they chart the impact of a nuclear explosion on. I always feel hypnotized by it. I bend closer, over the surface of the map. Closer and closer, and slowly the inner circle expands and grows until it surrounds me.
It surrounds me. Suddenly I find myself standing in the middle of a downtown street. A clear day, in the middle of the afternoon. Windows glint in the sunlight. It's very quiet. There's no one else around. No cars in the street. Not a breath of wind. The city is empty except for me. I know—always at this precise moment—what is going to happen. I look down at the ground. There on the asphalt is a crude chalk circle drawn around my feet. the kind of circle a little girl might draw for a game. I know that this is ground zero. The bomb is going to fall. It's always the same and its always a strange feeling to realize that I'm not afraid, not at all afraid. A great sense of joy wells up inside me. A desire to raise my arms to the heavens, to exercise my entire body in praise of this moment. Because only by being destroyed, only through the ultimate annihilation of a nuclear explosion brighter than a thousand suns can I finally lose myself, turn to pure energy, become one with the universe. I will be totally cleansed of my mediocre existence, reborn into the cosmos. I will be truly free.
And as I lift my arms and feel the ripple of muscles wash upwards, a great white light is slowly bursting outwards from where I stand. This is it. And then I realize what this is. I'm terrified. I know it's too powerful for me. This is no dream. I'm gazing into the single eye of the fireball. I stare into that blank white point of light. It gazes back at me calmly, hypnotically. I'm frozen with fear. I know I'm going to die. I want to run someplace, to hide. If only I was back in my apartment….I want to shout, NO!

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

~~One Hell of a Year--New Video~~

Hey kiddies, I had free time tonight, Picnik, and a need to get the emotions out there.

So I made a video.

And here it is......:

~~Damn the Ukraine--A Rant~~

So not too long ago St. Petersburg, Russia, began the jump down the slippery slope into global homophobia against all LGBT. And now apparently the rest of the world is beginning to follow it.

It's starting in the Ukraine. And from there it's just going to keep spreading.

The law hasn't been passed yet but we NEED THE SIGNATURES NOW!

Someone stop the madness, PLEASE!!!

Go to Allout.org.

Join the petition.



Kiddies, I....I hate to admit this but, I'm scared.

I'm bisexual, and in many parts of the world, people like me are being killed.

And I don't wanna have my friends die!

I know that everything ain't lost but I'm just worried about it.

What if the worst happens?

I know I should keep my eyes on my own country, but....But this is just plain wrong.

I don't want things like this to affect us. We have enough issues without the differences between us being so violently made obvious. We're dooming ourselves--nothing more, and nothing less.

So someone out there make a difference.


For meh.

And the rest of the Lesbians, Gays, Bisexuals, and Transsexuals.

I know I'm only one girl, but I know I can make a difference--with help.

So help me.

And everyone else on this world.

~~I'm Sick of This~~

Victories, harsh cries, sin and salvation
Beauty and strength, the curse of our nation
We live and we breathe, not because we deserve it
But because the sweat of our forefathers earned it

All the lies, the false hopes, and goodbyes
All the things we see with the sun rise
I can’t stand it
I just can’t take it

We fight, but we don’t change
Nothing can ever rearrange
There will always be those that fall
And those that answer to society’s call

Will someone please give me a reason
A reason to hope, a true salvation
I can’t believe I am useless and weak
But my eyes always drop, so very meek

Will someone please give me a hand
I need someone to understand
To wash away my scars
And make me a part of who they are

I don’t know who I want to be
Through it all, I have always been me
But this is my life, can I take it?
At the end of it all, will I have made it?

Monday, May 28, 2012

~~An Attempt at Getting Over It--Life Post~~

I'm not even going to bother saying I'm trying.

As summer approaches and the sky lightens with blasting, boiling heat, the only things I can think are: Dairy Queen's going to have a big year with this blasted heat, and the world sucks. Why have my thoughts been so morbid lately?

I just don't know...

I'm growing up certainly, but I don't know how long I will be okay.

I keep moving forward going on past the things I had done and been through before, and I....I miss it! A lot of me still misses who I was, the people I knew....

Mohammed, Saquan, Danny, Saira, Amanda, Ara, EVERYONE!

Everyone I once loved and cared about.

I'm no longer online and.....

And I'm scared.

Now I don't know what to expect. Now, I have no knowledge of what will come, and the only certainties I possess are that I won't be alone and that I will have Ted to watch over me.

I need...Someone to give me hope.

I'm still happy, and still brave, and still good, but I'm losing faith.

Losing faith that everything will be okay.

And, when you're an Angel who seeks to save people, faith that everything will be okay is the one and only necessary thing.

Someone help me!



Oh yeah, I think I'm changing the blog name to T.I.L.L: Tragedy, Insanity, Love, and Life.....

Normal Ain't Normal is good, but....I think that T.I.L.L will fit me better. I'm growing up and things need to be different as well.

Actually, I will change it.

Love ya kiddies, and thanks for reading. ^~^

~~Stab Stabbity Stab Stab--A You're Freaking Kidding Me Post~~

I'm just sick of all this ranting about emos and cutters and people with differences and goddamnit I don't even know why I'm writing this! O_O

I'm sitting in the library just bored and thinking. Thinking about life. Thinking about love. Thinking about the years to come.

When the dreaded teenage years fail and fall away, when we grow older and our hormones calm, how much will we change? Is it age that changes us, or is it the experiences we amass through the passage of time?

Or will we even change?

Will anything be...different?

No. I don't think it will.....

I don't know what will come in the years--but all I know is that this generation is in for one hell of a change. My generation will likely see the ending of the usage of fossil fuels and a complete switch, out of necessity, to other forms of energy. This generation is going to have the ability to change the world, and right now, all we seem to be in for is a globalized version of The Lord of the Flies.

We've always been possessors of a penchant towards the perhaps overly dramatic, and because of this we have been called less. I watched the documentary Bowling for Columbine, and holy shit it basically explains everything. I don't like this world, and I possess all of my reasons for it. Mankind has always possessed the ability to change things for the better, but instead all we seem to do is make things more profitable. Just think of what we could do if we loved the world, instead of our pockets.

We need to smarten up. And where do we start? With the youth. Like it or not, teenagers are our future, and we need to be raised well. Who knows what we will be in the years to come!

And yet there is something known as Ephebiphobia....THE FEAR OF TEENAGERS!

Of course there is a phobia named after us....


Another reason I like this world--all these annoying awkward fears and phobias are actually somewhat amusing. Sometimes. Occasionally. When they're not fears of me.

We need to change the system, change the society, change the world....But who has the power to do that? The president of the US? FUCK NO! He's American. And a large portion of the world dislikes them. But yet the President Barrack Obama has done a lot of good for us, and if we're lucky, he could go a long way to make this world be better. We need to change it, because at our current rate, all we're going to do is annihilate ourselves.

And the fact that emos are odd doesn't mean that they won't have an impact on the world. In this day of information and worldwide global contact, of Skype and chat sites and webcams, WHAT ARE THE DIFFERENCES ANY MORE? There are none. We are ALL human.

No matter what happens, we are human, there's only one world, and we are destroying it.

So please, I beg of you, LISTEN UP. Pull your heads out of your asses and get past these petty differences, weaknesses. GET PAST IT ALREADY! We as a species have more power to destroy and to save than anything before us, and we're wasting our capabilities on destroying each other.

I'm tired of hearing about the whining. About the weakness. We need to survive and godamnitall the TIME IS NOW.

Tomorrow never comes because all we have is today.

So kiddies, listen up.

We need to make a change.

Use less water by taking shorter showers, and by repairing taps etc.

Turn off the TV if you're not watching it.

Turn off the lights when you leave the room.

Stop buying so many plastic toys.

Recycle and reuse as many things as you can.


When you're done with your clothes, send them to Salvation Army or something like that.

Oh god kiddies, there are so many ways you can make a difference in this world!

Both a positive and negative difference.

And by the way...Solar power is the best form of alternative energy. Smarten up and use it. Did ya know that, if we covered 4% of the world's desert, we could produce enough energy to power the world?


So that's it from me mah lovely readers....

I'll leave ya with one last song--its lyrics; I am in school, so I can't post a link to it.

But here....


Heaven help us, we've lost control

This should be our finest hour
But were racing towards the end of days
Pulling back from the brink, despite our best efforts
The volume increases and the beat goes on
All the players marching to a different drum
The rhythm of the war dance, the beat goes on

What will become of us if there's no one to watch over us?
If we should face the certainty of our destruction
Forbidding everything, pointless cries, futile dreams
There'll be no laughter, there'll be no tears
When tomorrow never comes

This isn't a game, turn the safety off
Still we want more, and so the beat gets faster
Everyone must play, 'cause fame will find you
Put your face on the cover of a loaded magazine
We're proud of ourselves, our greatest inventions
Methods of killing have reached perfection
All the players marching to a different drum
The rhythm of the war dance, and the beat goes on

What will become of us if there's no-one to watch over us?
If we should face the certainty of our destruction
Forfeiting everything, pointless cries, futile dreams
There'll be no laughter, there'll be no tears
When tomorrow never comes

As the warning sirens sound, and the world is at an end
Render unto night creations torn asunder
What will become of us if there's no-one to watch over us?
There'll be no laughter, there'll be no tears
When tomorrow never comes

Sunday, May 27, 2012


Don't wanna go just yet, wanna write just one more post--grace you with the beauty of my wisdom (not) just a little more =w=

So what to speak about?

I was thinking while in the shower about how I would explain myself, my introduction....

Who I was and who I am. If you want to understand what someone will be in their following years, you must first dissect the person's character in their earlier ones. To grasp what comes before is to know what comes after--the Gift of the Logos. Look up R. Scott Bakker and the Darkness that Comes Before etc. to understand that very simple and basic principle.

So if I am to introduce myself to you, I would go on rambling about my past, and my present. I would begin with my first memories, my old guilts, and then...Then and only then would I move onto the next stages.

I make no claim to fame.

But I also beg and shriek to be known, to be remembered....To be loved.

But if I make no claim to fame, if I don't claim to desire nor to deserve any blessings, why do I seek them thus?

I seek them because I want to make myself sound noble, even though I flood myself with falseness. Falseness and weakness. I coat my scars with diamond, trying to...Trying to what? To strengthen them again?


I coat them with diamond to attract attention to them. I scream and I whimper and I make a bulwark of my misery--just take a look at this blog. Think of all the pain poured into it! All the emotion. All the soul, and all the bitter-sweet memories and lies. I coat my body with diamond so I am sure to be seen, and I dress in black to show my old wounds. The jewellery that adorns my neck, middle finger, and wrists is black, always black....Showing grief. Loneliness. Depression. Sorrow.

And strength.

Pure, tainted, beautiful, harsh strength.

I am, at my core, strong.

I have gone through hell and heaven, and through it all--I have been strong. And god knows I've broken--god knows I've begged for it to end!

But now....

But now I am here again, and I can't speak any more for fear of lying once again.

God knows....

God knows there is no God.

I believe not in him.

So who do I believe in?


I believe in myself, and I accept no greater power nor strength, no greater reason. All this world is is a beautiful chaos, a sickeningly sweet tragedy....The most beautiful death in the world is the death of the world itself.

And we are all a part of it.

And we weep and howl at our chains, refusing the Masters, the Mistresses....But we are but slaves to the world. If we need a god, then that God needs to be TIME.

Time heals and causes all wounds.

There is no greater force on Earth than the tick, tick, ticking of the clock....

And now.....I must go.

Time is ticking fast.

But I will go with one last futile attempt at wisdom and fame....

I'm Angel.


And no more. No more than who I am.

No more than me.

And I deserve fame.

~~Dear Russia: Life/Love Post~~





I love you guys!!! Most of my views inevitably come from Russia....I have absolutely no idea why, though...And the amount of views has even been increasing ever since my blog was able to be translated into any language under the sun. With a few errors of course.

And things have been like this for a very long time, pretty much all the way from the beginning....

I don't know why, though....

Could it be that my blog definitely offers support to those on the outside? Why, I'd kill for you guys to email me, message me, something, anything....

And right now I'm giving a listen to the Russian National Anthem. It's actually so much more powerful than the Canadian one....*National pride down ten percent.*

I never realized how much I adore Russians....And no I don't just adore you guys because you read my blog a lot :3

I love you for your personality, your language, your culture....




*National pride decreasing by a further ten percent.*

Now, I adore you guys, so keep right on reading and following....And, oh yeah, email me. In your own language of course--I can google translate it. ^~^

As always, hit me up at annashadowlight.ca, and I love ya Russians.

хорошо и безопасной!

~~An Ode to Silence--A Ramble~~

I can't.

I'm just lying here in bed, feeling the wind, feeling the sky. I feel the darkness, but I also feel the light. Memories flow thicker and sweeter than blood, and my tears taste of copper. The cuts on my skin seem to flow with an inner light.

I lift from my dreams, and think...

Who am I?

No one and everyone.

Alive and dead.

Sinner and saint.

Beautiful and ugly.

True and false.

Real and fake.

I am alive and I am alone and I am dead and I am by his side.

I feel faint but I feel strong.

I'm me.

Does anyone care to change me?

The anger that leaps from my lips has the strength to shatter the world, and the grief that falls from my eyes has the power to drown it.

And the words of comfort that slip like honey from my lips? They can soothe, cool, heat, boil, and tempt anyone. They are words of support, of adoration, pride, and worship. I can call and I can claim and I can be anyone and I am anything I want to be.


Because I have learned not to speak.

I know the words to say, but I choose to keep them to myself, demonstrating by action instead. I make no claim to wisdom, nor to greatness, but I fight to prove myself nonetheless. I will prove myself, earn the name that lies upon my silken flag: Angel.

I am Angel. I am Dumah. I am Angel of Darkness, Angel of Despair, Angel of Lust, and Angel of Beauty.

I have danced across the stars.

I have sung the songs of sorcery.

I have leapt from the highest cliffs into unforgiving waters.

I have written the stories of angels and demons.

And now, oh delectable reader, I have one last thing to say....

Thursday, May 24, 2012

~~Her Chapter Three: Eternity~~

--Jamie's POV--
I stagger to my feet, forcing away the rough sweaty curls of my dark hair. Gasping for breath, I gaze around, my eyes dark, my heart begging, Please, Logan....Please be okay!
But I knew he wouldn't be. He was with Her now....Now that She haunted him Logan would never be the same again....He would live, but he would lose his life. She would never let him live it....Just the way She had never let me live mine.
I straighten suddenly, ignoring the burst of lightheadedness that floods through me. I was free. I was free....
I burst from the trees, and back into the park. The families just look at me, not even bothering to speak. They were quieter now--they couldn't get up the strength to feel, to speak, to act after an encounter with Her.
And then I remembered.
I needed to find him!
I pulled out my cell, and eyed the screen. I had called every number, spoken to everyone I had in my contacts but one: Logan.
My heart in my throat, sitting onto a park bench and leaning back against it, I dial.
He picks up on the third ring.
"I knew you would call," Logan says, his voice so familiar but yet so strange, "I must speak with you, Jamie."
"Same to you, Logan." I reply, my words shorter than my breath.
"She's not with me," he says, and I can sense his trembling, "I don't know what to feel....Afraid, or relieved?"
I think for a moment, before sighing, "I don't know what to do....This hasn't happened before."
Logan doesn't reply.
In silence, him and I sit, distance yawning between us but still hearing the soft sighs of each other's breath.
And then, in a single instant, I decide: I break the silence with a single sentence, one I've always wanted to say, "I forgive you, my friend."
The silence returned, before I hear him sigh, and his tired voice reply, "I don't forgive myself."
He hangs up on me without another word.
I lean forward, and grasp my head in my hands, wishing I could reach into my mind and tear out every thought, every memory.
At least it would mean I was free.
--Logan's POV--
I should have stayed with him! I forced myself to my feet, and screamed. I punched the wall, again and again. Where was She? Why was I missing her?
The neighbors call to me, startled by my cry. I don't reply--let them think I've been attacked! Let them think me insane--I might as well be both!
I fall to my knees, and think hard, forcing away the feelings, shoving away all emotion. I told Her I loved Her....The thought forces itself through my mind, obliterating all others in its path.
Did I mean it? Do I love Her still?
After....After everything?
I raised my head, and the answer came to me in a tide of knowledge: I did.
I loved Her.
Even though I killed Her, even though I had shoved Her from the balcony, even though I had done so many things to Her, I loved Her nonetheless.
I drop my head into my hands.
And then I stand, and brush myself off, and go to the washroom, eyeing the blood staining the case of my cell phone.
I wash the blood away.
But I know that I can’t wash away the memories….There are some scars that don’t fade.
I know people speak about how time heals all wounds, but there are some things that never fade, that stay with you, locked inside, until the day you die. I know there are people that say that it will all fade, that you will be okay again, but to heal you need to get rid of those scars. Of those memories.
It has been so long since the night She died, and I still feel the scars. I still feel the guilt.
As I stand there at the sink, watching the red drift slowly down the drain, I whisper, ever so softly, like silk: “God, forgive me….”
--Her POV--
I watch the boys play. I watch them suffer. I laugh as Jamie sprints from the park, looking for Logan. I smile as Logan washes his blood, and clean the wounds on his knuckles, not even wincing as the rubbing alcohol pours over his wounds.
Ah....Such sweet agony I could inflict!
Such sweet suffering....
And I wasn't even doing a thing!
I watch from the binds of Eternity, the Realm of the Left-Behinds. I watch them flinch and gaze around, sensing me everywhere, but not finding me.
I watch Logan especially.
His agony is somehow made all the sweeter by his love for me....And his love for me was great.
Greater than I ever could have wanted.
I let my eyes lose focus, drifting. Laughing. I wonder, when would it be a good idea to up the stakes? To add onto the game even further?
I knew the end game had to be coming soon, but….Why not toy with them?
Could I not bring in all the players, and then watch them dance and die?
Wouldn’t that be just marvelous,  watching Nick, Stacy, and Ann all die and burn? Just like they had all watched ME die?
Then, with focused eyes, I spy the two boys find each other on the steps of a building, hugging each other tightly. I watch as Jamie unwraps Logan's bandages, and asks him about the wound. I watch as Logan looks away, and by some cruel trick of the gods looks straight at me.
I flinch back from the strange joy in his eyes.
They were happy.
They were reunited. I was a fool to think they would not become friends again!
I could not let this happen.
I rise from the couch in Eternity, and walk into the gate and back into the world of the living.
If my Eternity was hell....
Than their short, short lives would be worse.

~~Memories of Past Sins~~

Oh lover, no longer
I can't take this anymore
Hold me close, make me stronger
Before I slam the door

My eyes lower
I can't look you in the eyes
I will be sorry forever
I drowned within the lies

Now take me, hold me
Oh god why did I lie?
So much bittersweet memory
It's with me until I die

I still feel his eyes
I still feel his love
I still feel the ache between my thighs
I still feel the moon up above

I can't do this, should've stayed quiet
I thought confession would help
But it had only known my....
My own bittersweet hell.

~~Her Chapter Two: Loss~~

--Jamie’s POV--
I wept, frozen there, Her surrounding me, laughing in my ear, watching me. She torments me with Her voice, Her touch, Her laugh. I can't control this...! I can't escape from Her....I try to force myself to move, to run, to escape. But I can't leave Her.
Soft hair brushes against my cheek when She leans against me, breathing softly, Her body cold as night. "Leave me...."I beg. "Let me go...."
She laughs, whispering, "Never....I told you we were forever...."
I trembled, and finally escape from Her, bolting away. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" I cry, bolting away, howling. Families turn to me, startled into silence, thinking me mad as I sprint towards them, among them, away from them. I give them no glances, just keep running right on through.
And I feel Her come after me, hear their gasps and cries as they sense Her move among them, through them, changing them and freezing them cold.
I just keep running.
But I can't escape Her.
I never can.
She waits until I reach the privacy of the outskirts of the park to come to me, resting Her hand upon my shoulder, whispering in my ear. "You know you won't ever escape me, lover....You killed me...."
"I never was your lover....Logan was! Why must you torture me so...?"
"Because it was always you I wanted...." She murmurs into my ear, pressing up against me again. I shiver at the cold of Her, but I warm at Her touch. Why must She do this to me...? How can She control me so?
I break away from Her again.
I hear Her laugh behind me: "You may run from me, Jamie dear. I will go and visit Logan...."
I halt in my tracks, and yell, "No! Stay with me!"
Better me than him....
She laughs, but it fades into silence, and I no longer smell Her sweet scent, no longer sense Her nearby.
I fall to my knees, and pray.
--Logan's POV--
How could I leave him behind?
I punch a wall, pulling my fist away and eyeing the blood. My eyes darken--why wasn't I bleeding more? I had left him behind! Jamie....My best friend! I had abandoned him to torture, to hell! Only because I wasn't strong enough to face the torture I was putting him through....The torture I caused! If it wasn't for me being a cold bastard who can never love....If it wasn't for me being drunk that night, I never would have gotten mad at Her, never would have followed Her up the stairs, never would have pushed Her from the balcony....
And then I feel Her.
Sense Her near me.
I smell Her skin, Her hair, and I feel Her hand on my shoulder. I tremble, filled with guilt and fear. Let the torture begin....I deserve this.
I feel Her press up against my back, and I hear Her voice, hauntingly familiar, in my ear: "Hello, Logan...."
I scream.
She only laughs, and I feel Her slip around me, stand in front of me, sling Her arms around my neck.
"I love you," She whispers, before She kisses me, "And I won't ever leave you...."
I shudder, but I kiss Her back. "I'm sorry for what I did to you...."
She pulls back, and even though I can't see Her I sense Her smile. "Don't be, love. I don't blame you....I just want to be with you...."
I gently push Her away, my hands freezing. I walk to the window, and gaze out. I feel Her touch my shoulder gently, but I don't turn to face Her. "I lost you..." I whisper, watching the world go by. My hand drips blood onto the wooden floor, and I lower my forehead to the glass so I can watch the blood fall.
I sigh, and I don't speak again.
She doesn't touch me.
Instead, I sense Her step away from me, and feel Her eyes focus on me. She doesn't say a word.
But, then, I feel Her slowly fade away, Her voice murmuring as if from a million miles away: "You never lost me....I won't ever leave you."
And then, in an instant, She is gone.
I fall to my knees, but whether in relief or grief I do not know.
I cover my face with my hands, and burst into sobs.
"I love you...." I whisper.
I felt so weak, so cold. My eyes stayed locked open, even though the tears fell fast and hard, like rain. Like blood-red rain on the purest white snow. I gasped and groaned, fighting to breathe, but I couldn’t halt the unending flow of tears. Why did I feel so weak? It was just….It was just Her.
All the things we had done, all the memories, everything ran to my mind. I felt the memories consume me, flood me, horrific desire and tempting pain.
Oh god…..Oh god….
But a part of me knew—oh, how it knew!—that God had nothing to do with this. That He was not responsible for the love, for the desire, for the insane mad lust, that flowed within my veins whenever She was near. My Goddess. My false, fallen, broken, shattered, beautiful Goddess. Who I had adored, worshiped, loved, needed, craved….
Craved, and killed.
I thought back to when we had first met—the playground, grade five. Jamie had been climbing the tree, and he had spotted Her, higher than he could ever have even attempted to reach. She was small, dressed in long socks and black shorts, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles adorning Her skinny, skinny torso. He yelped in surprise at seeing her, and fell down, down, down….
And what was I supposed to do? I fell with him, reaching out in an attempt to catch him. We lost sight of Her in the scuffle that followed, and we didn’t see Her again for a long time.
But we spoke of Her enough to make it seem that She was always with us. We were obsessed with Her, and we did not know why we were.
I closed my eyes again, trying to force away the memories, but I knew it was useless. I knew it was hopeless.
She was with me, until the day I died….
And maybe even beyond.
--Her POV—
Such foolish boys! I laugh, staring at the images of them in wonder. Poor Logan, lost his mind, his body flooded with my memory—sex the only thing on his mind. And poor Jamie—what life could he have with me constantly so close?
Oh how delightful this was! Oh how easy they were to torture….A quick kiss on their cheek to send their heartbeats racing, a quick run kiss on the neck to make them beg….
And tada. They were mine. Driven mad by desire.
It was almost pathetically easy, but I delighted in it. I knew it was time to stop the games, and move them into checkmate. I had been toying with Jamie for so long now….
It was time to give the others a turn.

~~A Crazy Kick-Ass Idea: Life Post~~


That's been the entirety of my mental dialogue for the past while.

So guess what.

In the next 30 days, I am going to write a total of 22,222 words. Just like I did in NaNoWriMo.

I'm going to put it all into Her. And any other stories I can.

So I love ya kiddies--and I'll post chapter two of Her as soon as I can.

Love ya all!



I need ya guys to help me out a ton. If ANYONE out there in the big wide world possesses R. Scott Bakker's email, or even a snail mail address, I would kill for it. R. Scott Bakker changed my entire life. I first started his novels when I was very, very young--actually right around the age of ten. As you may have guessed, that might have messed me up a ton.....But I just want to talk to him. I want to learn from him. He is one of the most amazing authors I know, and I just want to talk to him. Tell him how much I love his books. He's an amazing guy and I love his blog. So please!!!


As a blogger, as a teenage girl, as a fangirl, as a fan, as a freaking WORSHIPPER of his novels I beg. I beg you to get me a way of contacting him x.x If any of you guys have information, please email me at annashadowlight@hotmail.ca. People pwease....!

Me wuvverz him and his books.

Ted seriously thinks I have a crush on him, and yeah I think I do.....I just wanna talk to him. I think he could really open up my eyes, get me to understand a lot more about this world. And besides I need some tips on my writing and how to make all of this work better.....

So kiddies, help out chur fave blogger chick, will ya? :3

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

~~Oh Little One~~

Oh little one—how small and sweet!
Dancing all around
How I love the sound of your little feet!
Your wings too small to lift you from the ground

You pout, look up at me
I’d forgotten the candy
Oh silly, silly me!
You giggle, and so swiftly forgive me

I lift you up, hold you close
Spin you right around, tossing you high
How I had deserved you, God only knows
But now I’ve got you until the day I die

You smile and laugh, so small and cute
I grin and clutch you tight
The laugh and voice, sweeter than a flute
Please don’t leave me alone tonight

But god knows I can’t protect you
But god knows I wasn’t meant to keep you
But god knows they’re waiting for you
But god knows they’ll take your innocence from you

But for now, oh dear sweet little one
I will dance with you
Until our final day is done
And I need to let go of you.

~~Little Black Winged Demon~~

Little black winged demon, what hides
Within the pools of night
That act as your eyes?
What caused you to turn from the light?

Was it a lost love? A betrayal
One you never recovered from?
Were you pinned by Heaven’s Nail
And your tongue struck dumb?

You seem to fierce, so cold, so heartless
Is that you, or an image you seek to cultivate?
The darkness in your eyes—do you wish to confess?
Or is this coldness inside something you sought to create?

Who were you? Were you born this way?
Or did society force you here?
I look at you today
And whisper: “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

~~Forgotten Angel~~

 Hey, you are so beautiful
Why do you remain so lost?
The wind that blows, it blows so cold
I know you need to find the sun, no matter the cost

But you won’t let me cut the chains
You won’t let me take you down
Soon you’ll be nothing but remains
That drift piece by piece to the ground….

Forgotten angel, why were you left behind?
The look within your eyes
Speaks of someone very good and kind
Someone free from the lies

You try and smile, seeing me
I wave to you, looking pleadingly
At the wounds, so bloody
Inflicted by the knives that dig so cruelly

“Why are you here, beautiful one?”
I ask, almost afraid to know why
“Were you trapped here by someone?”
She closes her eyes, and lets out a sigh

“I chose this fate for myself, stranger.
“So my child could fly free.
“A devil had sought to endanger
“The lives of my family and me.

“To earn their freedom and lives
“I was enchained and trapped here
“Pinned to this fate by dozens of knives
“So they would have nothing to fear.”

I stare at her, so beautiful, and say brokenly
“Can I take your place?”
She laughs, and shoos me
Then, the light in her eyes fades, without a trace.

~~Testing Testing 1 2 3~~

Wondering if I can post by email, so I'll fire off a quick test shot, see if it works. If so, then I'll be able to post at school. Which would be epic. So here we go!

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

~~HER Chapter One: Haunted~~

--Jamie's POV--

I walked alone, listening to Unintended, daydreaming of Her. I could feel Her touch, hear Her voice, hear Her laugh. I could sense Her beside me, touching me, Her gentle laugh like a song to my ear. I smell the sweet perfume of Her skin, feel Her breath tickle my skin, tremble when She nestles Her face into my neck.

My gaze is drawn upwards, to the dimly shining sunlight broken by the network of branches, a net of night to catch the sun. I inhale the gentle scent of the wild: The perfume of the dew-wet grass, the musk of animals, and the soft scent of the trees. It soothed me, whisking away the scent of Her, gently washing away my agony. I paused, feeling the sensations: The gentle breath of the wind, the coolness of the shade, the idle warmth of the sun. I sigh, breathing deep, for once free.

But then I feel Her press up against me, feel Her breath warm my skin, feel Her tongue tickle my neck, feel

Her lips kiss and wander the tender skin of my throat. I gasp, and murmur, "Oh, angel....Why do you torture me so?"

She laughs, and murmurs into my ear, soft as a dream, "Because you killed me...."

I force out a choking sigh, and She laughs once more, "But I didn't kill you...."

She whispers back, Her voice soothing and tempting, "Because I haunt you....Like you haunted me...."

"But....I didn't kill you...." I say again, trembling at Her touch.

"You have my blood on your hands...." She whispers, Her hand taking mine and raising it so Her eyes can gaze at the red upon it. I pull my hand away, and She slips around me, so She can gaze into my eyes. "You killed me...." She says again, "You have my blood upon your hands...."

I break into a sprint, running straight through Her, gasping at the sudden shock of cold as It blasts through me.

As I burst through the trees and into the clearing, startling families and halting conversations with my screams, I hear Her laughing behind me....

Torturing me.

But then I feel Her hands take mine....Draw me back into the shelter of the trees....

I let Her.

As I lose myself in Her sweet torture, watching the families slowly return to their laughter and their games, I spy a single young man rise from his seat 'neath a tree, walk forwards, long-fingered hands slipping golden hair behind many-pierced ears.

As I hear Her laugh and as I tremble, I meet his all-too-familiar deep green eyes. He walks forward, his eyes wide, and I scarcely catch his murmuring voice on the breeze but I hear it nonetheless: "Jamie...?"

Her spell shatters, and She goes.

I fall to my knees, gasping for breath.

Logan runs to me, falling into a crouch beside me, grasping my shoulders. "Jamie, is that you?"

I fall into my old friend's arms, crying. "Logan...." I force out, and he hugs me carefully, gently.

"Jamie....What has life done to you?" he asks, pushing me to arm's length, regarding me with worried eyes.
I laugh, and regard him in turn. "Life has done nothing to me....You haven't changed."

He lapses into a frown. "Then what has changed you...? And just because my pretty face hasn't changed doesn't mean I haven't," he cracks a grin, trying to make me smile, "The last time we saw each other....You had Her blood on your hands, and I was all but dead. So I HAVE changed....I'm no longer bleeding out!"
He tries to smile again, but he fails.

We sit there, regarding each other, remembering. Struck by a sudden recollection, I say in a rush, "Do you remember when we climbed the tree that day--in grade five? I fell off the top branch, and you jumped after me, only to turn into a landing pad when we hit the ground."

He laughs. "How could I forget? You always were a twig--but I didn't know how much skinny bones can hurt until you stabbed me with your elbow."

I laugh with him, thinking back. "If I remember correctly, you cried and punched me."

He raises his eyebrows, smirking. "No....If my memory serves me rightly, it was you who cried when I punched you. And what could you have expected, young Jamie? You could've killed me with an elbow like that...."

I punch him on the arm, and he mimes a hurt expression, dropping his lower lip into an unhappy pout.

"Aw....Little Jamie thinks he can take me!" Logan cries, laughing.

I tackle him, and for a while we fight, wrestling, pinning each other like we had so many years ago. Logan, a young man who I hadn't seen in three years, a young man who I had once viewed as my brother, who I loved with everything I was. This young man and I fought as we had once fought, before....Before Her.

But then we stop, and roll away from each other, pulling each other to our feet, gasping.
Gasping at Her touch, and hearing Her mocking laugh.

Logan's eyes focused on mine, trembling, grasping my hand tightly. "Is it always like this...? Does She always...." He falls into silence, unable to speak as he trembles again.

"Tortures me? Yes....Now that you're near me, She tortures you, too...." I reply, and his hand tightens on mine one last time before he whirls away, breaking free of my hand, leaving me behind.

Before he returns to the park, Logan turns to me one last time, and yells in farewell, "I'm the one who killed her! I'm the one....I pushed her from the balcony!"

He starts back towards me, as if regaining a sense of strength.

I look at him, and gesture for him to go. "But you're not the one She haunts...."

Logan's eyes meet mine one last time, only a hundred meters away but yet so far, before he nods in thanks and goes, leaving me behind him forever with the girl he killed.

She laughs, calling, "Goodbye, Logan dear! I will see you again soon...."

I tremble, and watch him break into a desperate run, escaping from the dark world he had cast me into, leaving behind his greatest friend.

"Goodbye...." I murmur.

~~The Key to Her Wings--A False Angel Story 1~~

Alice tried to remember who had given her the key.

It wasn't a very big key. It was simple, black, but shaped a bit oddly--almost like a feather at the back. Or maybe a wing...She stared blankly at it, her earbuds pounding Emilie Autumn's Hollow Like My Soul, her cracked-screen iPod lying clenched in her onyx-skinned hand. Alice had plucked this key from her pocket on her walk back from the supermarket, her stolen groceries banging on her back, encased in the protection of her ragged leather pack-sack.

She frowns, her thin black brows drifting above her emerald eyes like thunder clouds over an ocean of forest. "I wonder what it opens...." she whispers to herself, looking around with interest. Could it open something nearby?

She starts wandering, knowing Momma Dear wouldn't bother to check if darling seventeen year old Alice had come home or not--Momma Dear would be too drowned in her alcohol to care. And Daddy Dear? How would he be able to tell where she was from Texas, several hundred kilometres south of her?

"So....Where to start looking?" Alice asks herself, feeling the material of her jeans chafe at the tender skin--she'd tripped and skidded on the sidewalk yesterday, chasing the guy who'd decided that groping her breast in the shopping mall would be a good idea.

Alice ducks her head as she passes the church--she hated looking at it....Memories of her Momma's wedding always came to mind.

That rat bastard that she married--what had Momma been thinking....!

How much Daddy Dear drank was psychotic....Even more than what Momma Dear did.

Alice shook her head, her ragged black curls bouncing over her chubby face. She was thinking too much! She'd never figure out this key, thinking the way she was....

And then she felt it.

A single tap on her shoulder.

She whirls, and spies--an angel.

His hair was jet black, fiery red, violet blue, and forest green. His eyes were a soft, tender gold--a gold that shimmered--as if they were backlit by a bonfire. His wings were massive, a ten foot wingspan or more, but despite the size of his wings he seemed to be only five feet tall, his spiked hair appearing to make up a good portion of his height. His clothes were elegantly simple--a simple black suit jacket, a Tool T-shirt, a silken tie, jeans. He was a mix of businessman and high school kid.

Alice liked him already.

He grins, revealing pointed teeth, and he reaches out an impossibly cold hand to push my chin closed. "Hello child of the night--would you like to escape from this world, and dedicate your life to constant adventure and freedom?"

Alice felt her mind go blurgh.

She barely heard herself speak, but she knew she answered: "Yes."

He grinned, and held out his hand: "Take it, little Alice, and follow me into Wonderland...."

Was he high?

Did it matter?

Alice shrugged, and she reached out, taking the offered hand that almost disappeared inside her grip. Such small hands he had! So delicate he was.

But then....

He leapt into the sky, his massive night-black wings snapping open, carrying her high into the air. He laughs, delightedly and maniacally, tossing her into the air above him and in front of him with a snap of his wrist so he catches her against his chest, his skinny skinny arms clutched around her, underneath her armpits. She can't bite back the screams that echo into the howling wind, but she doubts that anyone can hear her cries.

He carries her higher, higher, higher, into the sky. He laughs, his laughter somehow the only thing she can hear above the snapping of his wings and the wolf's howl of the wind. Her eyes snap shut and she shakes in his arms, clutching him so hard she fears that she might slip the angel's slim form.

Finally, they reach their destination--a tiny hut upon a cloud. He lands upon the cloud, and the mist drifts to reveal a platform of marble, floating mid-air. Alice lands on her butt, dropped a bit unceremoniously onto the platform. She blinks up at him, shivering in her ragged jeans and tattered blouse. "So, you came with me child," the angel remarks, "Without even knowing my name, I might add. I suppose you are just as hurt and as alone as I had feared....The key you found in your pocket, do you still have it?"

She nods, and holds out the key, still clenched tightly in her hand, now greasy with sweat from her fear. He takes it and examines it for an instant, before nodding casually and continuing to speak. "Child, do you want to be immortal? Do you want to be free?"

She nodded, biting her lip. Freedom from everything...!

He could see the desire and intentness in her eyes, so he lifted her to her feet and guided her towards the hut. "Once you use this key, you will say goodbye to your entire life. You will never again speak to anyone you know. You will create a new life as an angel. Do you understand this?"

Alice nodded, and looks at the keyhole. She bites her lip, tasting the blood--she must have bitten it harder than expected.

Alice slowly slides in the key, turns it, and is blinded by gold. Pain and bliss explodes through her body, incinerating and intoxicating every atom and cell, polluting and cleansing her completely. Memories crack and scatter like morning dew as the sun dries the tiny droplets.

When the process is complete and she has collapsed weakly, the angel leans down, and says ever so softly..."You are to be my wife."

She drifts into unconsciousness, her red wings spread across the granite.


~~Normal Ain't Normal Has An Extra Author!--Important Notice~~

Hello hello hello, admin, creator, and owner of Normal Ain't Normal here. I wanna have a wonderful hand to the glorious Fatum, who is now going to be posting on Normal Ain't Normal as well. She has a lot more political views than I do, and she is a lot more....Well Fatum than I am. I love this girl--as a friend/sis so don't give me that look ~_~'--so let's give her a warm hand everyone!!!

~~Human Nature and STORIES --Thoughts Post~~

I don't like people.

I really don't.

I find us annoying, obnoxious, evil, confusing, overly emotional, dramatic, pathological liars, addicts to all kinds of idiotically stupid things, bullheaded, lewd, rude, and just plain mean. I have NEVER liked us. Not very much at least.

So which begs the question--why do I find us so fascinating?

The answer to that delightful little turn of phrase is this: We are one hell of a contradiction. We're good, we're bad, we're sweet, we're kind, we're rude, we're just plain amazing. I've been talking a lot about the nature of the human condition, so I think I'll move onto a different topic....

Alright, I'm done. Time to get to business. I'm going to write three--count em THREE--stories/poems tonight. I will give em all a quick edit so I'll post em soon.

Time to get going!

~~Me, Me, Me, and RANDOMNESS!--Pictures Post~~

Alright kiddies, so here--have a couple of my assorted pics x3.

BOOKS HEAVEN--if a place like that existed, I would kill to go there....x3 Best library I have ever seen.

So freaking cute!!! I mainly like this image because of the fact that she's an angel--which is what I'm called after all. But she is also just too cute....I wanna hug her x.x

Me from a few months ago....An attempt at being cute x3

Whenever I read this, I feel like I'm going insane....o.o

I think this image actually depicts Ted and I pretty well x3

I've always loved this saying--it seems pretty good.

I just uploaded this because she is HOT

Sometimes, all it takes is a look in the mirror to see who you truly are...As well as how people see you.

BLACK BUTLER!!! If you guys don't know this, look it up. It is so good!!

This is what you can blame for breaking my mind :3 I love this anime so much....

I know very well how that goes....

Raimi Matthews: A Character from Broken Saints. Mah hero :3

Ciel Phantomhive of Black Butler in a dress. Yes. He is male.

This is a picture from the anime Mushi-Shi--one of the best ones I know x3

Some of the best books in the universe x3

I'm still strong, no matter what comes
Angel....Such a beautiful angel.

NEKO GIRLS FOREVER!!!!! She's so cute....