(no subject)

 

Is there really a song?
I thought I remembered
A scrap of a shadow,
The clearest of notes

I was lost for so long
I thought I'd discovered
A hope of escaping
In fragments of tune.

I once thought I was wrong
Was just an illusion
A thing misremembered
Of simpler times.

And yet still there's the song
Melodious rapture
Still haunting my mem'ry
From just out of reach.

And I think, though I long
To truly remember
Twas merely invention
There was never a song.

- The Song That Never Was

 

It occurs to me that I could do poetry requests or commission probably more easily and better than stories, but I'm not so sure anyone would really be interested >.> Ah well.

Anyway journally things: I'm going back to university in a couple of weeks, and my major has expanded to become a double major in English and Biology, which I have high hopes of getting done in only one extra year of school if nothing goes pear-shaped. Still have no real plan for what I'm gonna do after that <.<

Also, my roommate for the past two years has decided he can't afford to live in residence any more so I'm going to have an unknown factor as a roommate, which is pretty scary because autism and all >.< But we'll just have to see how it goes. The res people do know I have autism so hopefully I can trust them to give me someone they know I can deal with <.<

Lessee what else... Oh yeah, one of the Alibi stories I'm working on is coming along magnificently, wordcount around 4300 ^-^ And with more of an actually-thought-through plot than anything else I've written thus far, I think. Here's a sneak peek for yas ^-^

 

 

“That’s ok.  Have you seen, um, have you...” Marty faltered.  Had Skywing really been telling the truth?  Even after the magical gate and the giant pillar of blue fire, it was hard to swallow.  I mean, you expect to find weird things through magical portals, you don’t expect to bump into them in internet chatrooms.

“Sorry, I can’t quite hear you there,”

“Have you seen a dragon?”

Who are you and why should people care what you have to say?

"Who are you and why should people care what you have to say?"

Once upon a time, in a annoyingly personal high school course called 'Career and Life Management', I was asked that question on a worksheet. I found most of that course annoying and silly and awkward, since I hate talking about myself, but this question struck me. I wrote a poem to answer it, and rereading it recently I still think it describes me better than anything else I've written, so I've replaced the cryptic nonsense I had in my profile before with it and I'm just gonna stick it here as well for the heck of it.

I am a student of incomplete wisdom.
I am a sailor on oceans of light.
I am a dreamer adrift in the heavens.
I am a star in the brilliance of night.

I am a walker on paths well established.
I am a map-maker sitting at home.
I am a gazer who sees from a distance.
I am preceded wherever I roam.

I am a spinner of shadows; a weaver.
I am a wordsmith; a forger of truth.
I’m a magician, a worker of wonders.
I’m an apprentice, an untested youth.

I am a wanderer far from the city.
I am alone in the midst of the crowd.
I am a silence when thunder is crashing.
I am a voice in the silence, unbound.

I am a nothing; all vacant and empty.
I could be everything, boundless and full.
I have a dream of a future that’s gleaming.
I am in dread of one listless and dull.

I am no more and no less than a person.
I am a song that deserves to be known.
I am a poet; my words hold a power.
I will have strength and speak out on my own.