i have a love/hate relationship with fiction novels. on one hand, they inspire me and well.... erase my boredom, but on the other hand.... they make me feel depressed at the fact that my life were not more of an exciting adventure ( Read more... )

there she sits ( Read more... )

"daddy's going to build a HUGE house for us, and you can even have a balcony in your own room!" the man said to the little girl with ponytails upon her head ( Read more... )

once upon a time, long, long ago, there was a land of the gods. they were beautiful and fragile but they were immortal. the goddesses had silky golden locks of hair and tall, slender bodies with piercing blue eyes. the gods had ebony hair and bodies like archers. they were intelligent folk. they spent countless aeons pondering on the paradoxes in ( Read more... )

navy blue shirt and white cap, tall, lean, laughing and mesmerizing. a smile creeps upon her face as she notices him. his ever so familiar smile, his voice, the way he walks, the way his head bends when he laughs, the way he raises his hand to touch his cap ever so often... the distinct twinkle in his dark eyes ( Read more... )

A pendulum swings back and forth, undeterred by the increasingly imminent force of friction weighing it down ever so slowly. Again and again it swings; and a pair of careless eyes; amused by the silence evading the stale, night air watches in absolute silence. Friction? This force whose existence--proven beyond reasonable doubt remains unseen; ( Read more... )

a solitary shadow moves slightly; caused by a heaved sigh from a tortured soul. his lashes flutter down as his gaze stays upon her closed eyelids. a lock of mahogany hair falls upon her cream-coloured skin and his hands instinctively moves toward her face; tenderly pushing the soft hair away. he stays on his knees by her bedside in the darkness; ( Read more... )

alone. alone and desolate. she crouches within the shadows, blending in the darkness, in the company of the tinkling, melodic tune projecting from the delicate music-box sitting on her lined palms. a tiny figurine stands tall in the middle. tall and alone. it dances in a circular motion. over and over again it dances. just like a hypnotic trance ( Read more... )

a heartbeat. a whisper. a voice in the wind. a tinkle. a melody, a cry within. a tear forms in her emerald eyes, glistening as the last rays of sunlight pierce through the twilight sky, signifying the end of yet another day. tall, eerie silhouttes dance mysteriously--shadows cast by the old, majestic oak tree. to her, the silence is deafening, ( Read more... )