Limerence

A swallow longs for her southern nest
A brown field thirsty for the rain
My skin has a dire need
For your fingers' gentle caresses.

Black Thorn

Black Thorn by ~gingertom84 on deviantART

See now who is dead and who is alive. The living weeps for the dead, and you should ask why. Simply because the living knows too late the dead had loved him.

This is a story of dreams. This is the story of the Black Thorn.

You sleep now, and in the deeps of slumber, you see a thorn-tree, black as soot, under the gaze of the crescent moon. Before this tree, is a grass-covered mound, and you know the thorn had and forevermore is weeping over it.

Sit now under the black thorn, and he will tell you his reason for his being. I am the black thorn, and this is my story.

I had not always been this shape. I was a prince of the Twilight Lands, of Greenwood under the Stars. I was magnificent to behold, as of all princes of these hallowed trees. Hair jet-black, skin so pearlescent it shimmers, and my voice was – well it brought tears or laughter or make the rivers and stones speak if I will them. But … these - these memories, cannot be compared to the days I had spent with the one I’m weeping for.

O, sweet Selluin. I am happy to weep you. I, Ithrien Armellar, weep for you till World’s End.

Remember how I met you, Selluin? I was wolf-hunting at wood’s edge with my fellow princes, and there you were aftered by black spirits in wolf-shapes. I saved you with my gold-tipped arrows. You did not speak, you did not know how, but you held to me, knowing me your savior.

I wondered what moved me that day, perhaps it was pity, perhaps it was love-at-first-sight, to keep you at my side. I told my fellows I will teach this wild-man the ways of the Wood so that he could save himself from the wolves. My fellow princes shook their heads, and left only after they extracted an oath from me never to reveal the road to Dimloth.

The following days were our happy days. Selluin was mighty and beautiful as the warrior-kings of old. The velvety hair in his face, inner-side of the ears, chest, belly and palms were cream-white, whereas the rest were golden-brown. His eyes, blue like wizard’s stones, black within layers of blues, mirrors of souls. For that I gave him his name, Selluin, Silverglass. His small, black nose, it tickled him when I touched it. And I taught him all I knew, all the secret ways, secret songs and secret places of my people, except the road to Dimloth.

Those happy, happy days, sadly, were my shortest as well. Only two winters had passed, and my father’s messenger came to wood’s edge with solemn news of my father’s death-dealing sickness. None of my brothers and cousins was willing to do what I had taken upon myself, for they were happy to wait for his death. Greed for Power knows no family ties. Mayhap Innocence was still with me as I was youngest of my royal father’s brood.

I was set to find the cure for my father’s illness. You see, my people know no sickness, so a sage older than these trees could only tell me this be an evil done by one who cannot wait to sit on Dimloth’s throne. I am one of the lasts to be considered for the throne, and I couldn’t care less in face of my father’s impending death. The sage then told me of four hallowed herbs that will lift the curse killing my father. But they could only be found each in four different seas. It was a quest that brought me to every known and secret places of Old Earth.

I told Selluin of the dangers and the speed needed for the quest, and that he should stay. Selluin, he’d learned to speak then, will not be left without me. I laid a spell of slumber over him there and then, and made haste with my father’s steed. But I did not know he’d followed.

I’ve overcome all perils with my sweet-singing voice, and the people of the four seas welcomed me as a deity of plenty. For the hard ways of the world are made easy for one born fortunate in looks. But that was not so with my beautiful Selluin.

I’ve crossed four seas, three hallowed herbs already in my pockets, and I was about to harvest the last one. I remembered feeling warm and wet amongst those tall and ancient trees. The plant I was looking flourished on one of these very tall trees. I risked climbing it, though the guardian of this herb was nowhere to be seen. I was eager, so I did not care to look for and subdue it with my singing spells. At last, the hallowed flower shone white before my eyes, and I plucked it from its high perch. In that very moment, the guardian appeared, fully equipped in three rows of needle-sharp teeth, eyes and skin bleeding blood, claws and tail black with poison, but it did not get me.

My poor, poor Selluin, he saved me that day. He leapt upon the guardian, and so both creature and he fell over the branch and made that most terrible bone-breaking noise. It was the most fearful sound I’ve ever heard in the long centuries of my life. With all haste, I made it to Selluin’s side, and with his dying breath he said, You taught me love, and so I looked for it. Have I looked wrongly? He spat blood and died, before I could answer him. On that day I knew my happy voice had fled me forever.

I carried him across the four seas, after I’ve embalmed him in enchantments so that nature will not eat away his flesh before I make it back to the Twilight. I retraced my steps, and the peoples and creatures along the road told me the one I carried suffered the way in great pain when I paid toll with my singing. Why I asked them, why have you done to him so? O, my prince, they answered, simply because you have princely bearing and your soul-soothing voice is coveted. Whereas the one dead in your embrace, he was rudely wearied and worn like a beggar.

The hard ways of the world – I curse them into the blood-churning bowels of Death. Indeed, my happy voice had fled me forever. O, for my Selluin is dead. He’d followed where I’ve trodden easily, but in his place insufferable pain. And I did not know until the last hour.

I returned to the place where Selluin and I first met at Greenwood’s edge. When I made it back, my king-father was dead. So I spent the four hallowed herbs and all my spirit in Selluin’s embalming enchantments only to look in remorse in his dying face looking for unrequited love. His soulful, blue eyes, though, by which Selluin was named, I cannot keep with any amount of magic. Thus was my state for unnumbered wheeling of the stars and seasons, till grass and crawling plants covered both our bodies like forgotten statues of fallen cities. And I was transformed into a black thorn. Mayhap the Lady Vel saw to this fitness of my being, unmoving in my remorse and despair like a tree covered in soot.

I am Ithrien Black-in-Despair. Leave this dream, and return now to where I cannot follow - to your warm, sunlit days and your lover’s loving embrace.

Anger Management

I've dog crap to deal with every day.

I've a husband who doesn't do his part of the laundry.

The house is a mess.

I'm feeling uncertain, nervous looking for a new job.

Since my ibook is stolen, I'm not sure where to begin compiling my portfolio for a job interview.

My spouse and I am spending money in more ways than I like.

It's a few more weeks to the end of my term at my current workplace.

To top it all, the boss laid out the facts for me, and told me to have some professional ethics even though these maybe the last days of my time here.

Fuck ethics!

I'm told my soon-to-be-no-more colleagues think that I've not put my mind, heart and soul to the job lately.

What on earth you want me to give to a job that I've no more interest in?!

You can all eat my big, bulbous cock!

Goodbye, iBook!

My iBook G4 was stolen a few months ago. I didn't write about it because I was going thru the bereavement process. Yes, it's more than a fancy gadget to me. It's a gift from my mother with promises of achievement and success in life. It's a habit for me to view it and work it every day since the last 5 years. My entire college life revolves around. My artworks and creativity that filled it. Videos and pictures for the keeps. All records of my teenage youth. My dreams and goals in the works.

Gone. All because I work in a company that did not provide the relevant facilities for me to complete my assignments. So I've to produce the facilities and my skills in order to complete those tasks. And I thought it was worth the risks of it being stolen (it's a retail environment; crowds rush in and out).

Gone. The bereavement process will never be over. I terribly embarrassed my friend who gotten me this job, who is my superior too with an emotional action: I resigned from this job. It was entirely emotional. But the underlying basis to the emotional action is logical. I can no longer work in a post that which had bereaved me my memories and dreams. What is Man without dreams, but another animal?

This store I work in painted white, filled with tools and necessities of artistry and creativity, has suddenly become ... sad. I scorn this place. Not at the persons, except the thief. But the place. Most of all, I believe, I'm utterly angry at myself. Self-anger towards my initial conclusion that the risk of theft was absolutely acceptable in return for completed tasks. And you know what I think? Self-anger is very much the last stages of the bereavement process.

I am confounded by this entire experience. The bereavement. The reactions. The emotions. The clarity of logic by which I observed the process in me. I'm utterly confounded.

I'm jobless once by 9/11. Talk about drama. I'm required to stay for another 3 months upon resignation, so that's that. Any help, you readers out there, is appreciated. But I guess you wouldn't want to forward an emotional wreck as help to another friend of yours. So be it.

Till then.

In the Name of the Empire: Ep. 3

Spaceport 1, Katarn Prime:

"I've bargained my honor in the army to escort you here," said Commander Pacorr Kay Naweth, First Officer of the Katarn Warship Nissardi. "So gimme that big Naweth smile, and a big hug."

Desi and Pelra, 6- and 7-year old daughters of Commander Naweth, jumped on their father, ears folded, tails wrapped around their father's waist, sobbing. "C'mon, I wanna see you girls smile. Smile for Daddy, will ya?"

"Now I've to deal with their tear- and mucus-drenched dresses," said Radirra, Pacorr's wife. "I've told you your escort is not necessary."

"I know you hate me for leaving for the war," Parcorr pried his daughters arms and tails to let them down, "but I now need that tenderness you've shown me the first years we were in love. At least, have some now for our daughters sake. They are very much your flesh and blood too."

"It's always your daughters!" Radirra dropped her luggage on the floor. "I'm not one of your crewmen! You have no right to command anything out of me." She shut her mouth with her hand. She had all the look of a person who didn't intend to say what she just said. Her eyes brimming with tears, feeling afraid, angry and ultimately confused.

Parcorr drew his wife into his arms. Radirra wept like her husband is already dead. "You're going to die," she said, "and I hate myself for not loving you better. I hate myself for being angry at you. For being a jealous wife ... Oh ..."

"Hush, woman," Pacorr ran his fingers into Radirra's long, white hair. "No one's going to die. I will be back. I promise you, I will not return with a princess from Ur, awrite?"

"I never have the courage to ask you," Radirra lifted her head to look her husband in the eyes, "but this might be my last chance: Have you ever ... ever have another woman?"

"No."

"You sure?"

Pacorr kissed her deeply. Their tails interlocked. If only a small room was nearby, they would go there now. A strange place and time to feel horny for one another, but they did. Jealousy is simply another face of passion and love.

"Oh, Aroth!" Radirra held her husband's chest close to her cheek. "Aroth will keep you, or I'll be your avenging angel."

The speakers blared, Mrs. Naweth. Please, report to Platform 5. Transport will depart in 3 minutes. I repeat: Mrs. Naweth ...

A crowd is growing at the closed glass doors, threatening to break through. Families already in the terminal were beginning to sprint to their designated platform for priority checkouts. Economics at work even at the brink of war.

"I've to get back to my shuttle," Pacorr pushed her daughters towards their mother. "Go!" And he took off in the opposite direction of the rush.

Radirra sat her children in their compartment, and looked out the porthole to make for a view of Pacorr's military shuttle. It should be up in the atmosphere now, heading straight for the Nissardi. She whispered, "I'm sorry ... I really thought you were like every other men." She wept once more. Could she blame her friends now at the social club for what they fed her about the nature of men? She could only blame herself when she slept with a number of Pacorr's subordinates throughout the years. And she thought she was avenging herself. The word cunt kept playing in her mind.

In the Name of the Empire: Ep. 2

At the Interstellar Politics forum in Ur, live telecast, public subspace channels :-

"... however, Dr. Sangcar, surely even if the assassination did not eventuate, the Katarn Ambassador might not have the aptitude to arrive into a mutually satisfactory agreement in the negotiation table," said Mr. Reglar Irithiss, Chief Operating Officer of the Nadh-Tekal Mining Consortium.

"You have underestimated the Ambassador." replied Dr. Sangcar, resident political scientist of the Chronicles subspace network. "It's typical of you of the Inner Sectors mentality to view the Outer Rims denizens to be backwater, underclass. The late Jarcorr Larmethiss had had a commendable track record to the advantage of the Katarn government. One of his most notable achievements is the Cos Skathi Treaty, which had at one hand consolidated Katarn legitimacy of government in Cos Skathi and appeased the rebels with an economic compensation package. The Skathian rebels were at one time considered irreconcilable."

"That's where you are wrong," said Mdm. Suniddos, System MP of the Asrecta System, an Inner constituency. "The Ambassador has no experience in dealing with Inner system politics. No matter how commendable his track record is, the Empire is no rebel government. In fact, Dr. Sangcar's little comparison is an insulting insinuation of the nature of the Imperium. The near-barbaric, impulsive reaction of Katarn Prime to the death of their ambassador is evidence of non-intent in reaching an amicable agreement. Or has a certain member of the floor forgotten the original objective of the Second Imperium Act being created in the first place."

The forum chair spoke before the MP could continue, "Mrs. Suniddos, may I remind you this is not a jousting contest. Please, keep your opinions objective."

Dr. Sangcar's nostrils flared with rage. "Chairman, allow me to salvage my integrity of character: I am one of the staunchest supporter of the Imperium Act! I too believe that a singular Galactic Government is the surest guarantee to overcome the impending threat from the Left Arm, and perpetual peace and prosperity. However, Katarn Prime is the sole, powerful challenge to the creation of the Empire. Without Katarn Prime's allegiance, the Empire does not stand a chance against the first Left assault. It is truly regrettable that Katarn Prime does not share our idea to the solution of the Left-threat situation, but if war is the only way to unify our systems, let it be swift and with minimal casualty."

"Time is almost up," said the chair, "The audience may now begin their inquiries."

A man in a blue suit with white vertical lines stood, "Uhm ... I have two questions for Dr. Sangcar. I'm Ceigan Pellar, a political science student of Central University. How long do you think the Katarn-Ur War will last? Will the Empire even have sufficient resources to face the Left threat after the War?" Ceigan sat.

"The Empire has yet to test the newly created Imperial Forces. However, your question is most relevant, time is of the essence now. It has been a year since the threat in the Left Arm has been made known to us. Citizens of the Empire have now feeling restless to the state of unreadiness of our defenses. In my opinion, a quick surgical strike in the heart of Katarn Prime will dissolve the Katarn Conflict immediately. Insurgencies will result across the Katarn systems, but without central command, pacification measures will not be difficult in dealing with these cell groups. We want to keep the Katarn infrastructures intact so to add to the strength of the Empire."

In the Name of the Empire

"What do you think of my new jacket, Mr. Jamna?" said Ambassador Jarcorr.

"It looks representative of the Katarn people, Mr. Ambassador," replied his aide.

Jarcorr raised his left brow, looking annoyed. "Mr. Jamna, I was fishing for flattery even though it does not become you. I'm looking to be amused. A nervous diplomat needs amusement."

"Perhaps I can press the jacket again for you."

"You're not going to do that. You'd burn the fur-lining ... " the ambassador slaps his forehead, laughing. "Right, Mr. Jamna pressing the jacket. I'm amused now."

"We're running late, Mr. Ambassador."

Jarcorr nodded. He turned to the glass-wall, which could be frosted with voice command for privacy, and looked at the misty, morning cityscape of Old Ur, a planetwide city and the center of known space. The many steel and glass towers punctured Ur's skies like abundant corns in a field.

"This is where it all started, Mr. Jamna. One cannot help but be overwhelmed by the overbearing history and antiquity of this planet. Don't you think so?"

"I think the colonists that our ancestors were had built Katarn Prime one-thousand years ago for their posterity to call home. We've turned our backs from this reliquary long ago. The Katarn is now a people of its own."

"You're right, Mr. Jamna. My mission here is to protect the rights and interest of our people. Enough of the view, lets move."

"I thought you'd never do so."

A sharp noise of particle weapon fire was heard the moment both ambassador and aide walked out of the diplomat's suite, and the headline of tomorrow's Ur Herald was written: The Katarn Ambassador Assassinated: Katarn Prime Declares War.

Eternal Sun

[ Eternal Sun ] My latest work. One of my online friend even noticed my "quantum" leap progress. I'd dare say I did make a leap in my skills' progress! I feel almost fearless ... Determination is the key, my friends. Keep getting it right, keep practicing, and one day, like where I am now, you'd be no longer afraid of what you could do and where you could go.

Love Without Hesitation

Work
Work is a bitch, but I'm getting used to it. This is where I'm working at now: http://www.craft-haven.com . Meh manager and I am gonna buff and spruce the website up one of these days ... Everything is new to me in the store. I've not work in a retail setting before. But when you made a sale, you know that money goes into your pocket. It's satisfying. Not to mention all the interesting characters you get to meet that walk into the store. I wouldn't say more, but interesting should cover the spectrum of human stereotypes. It's awful to judge people, but the human-animal is an animal after all. Encounter enough of 'em, you'd develop an instinctive ability to categorize everyone you meet. And service them accordingly. People are far easier to read than they imagine themselves to be. Love learning new things.

Art
Let's list my WIPs:
1) Siamese Kitten - polymer clay sculpture painted with acrylic. About 2.5" tall, I think. 1" wide. It's almost done, so expect it to be posted soon. It's for sale. Store work.

2) The Qing Princess Calendar - I forgotten to take their pictures ... I made four of those direct mailer thingies. The A5 sized calendars went into purple-glossy handmade paper bags (made by me) together with a promotional letter of course. It wouldn't be a direct mailer if there aren't a sales literature with it. The letter is atrociously pink, so suffer it soon! Store work.

3) Map of Mythical Ur - 6000 x 5000 pixel. A world map of my fictional universe. And it's not as big as I like it. Not enough for all the details I wanna incorporate. Plaster-white cities. Dragon roosts. Mermaid coves. Et cetera. You get the idea. But my Wacom® tablet has given up on me! On Me! I'm gonna burn her on the Black Altar of Things Best Forgotten. And replace her with something bigger. Size does matter.© Personal work. Category: Project Ur

4) Aroth Ceinar - The Guiding Sun. Pencil work. I've done enough line work so far to have defined the figure and pose. Approximately A3-sized drawing block. Because my tablet has given up On Me, I'm forced to revert back to my original calling. Pencil work. It's the image of the handsome felinoid Sun-God Aroth hovering in the sunlit sky, pointing for his believers the Door of the World. As Rothaur had passed the Door to keep the Sun in the sky, so shall all the noble souls i.e. the believers of Aroth pass under the Black Arch to enter the Void and join the Creator in creating new worlds. Personal work. Category: Project Ur

5) Felinoid Cyber Punkster - It's still something swimming in the embryonic fluids of my Muse. But the image is of a tall, scrawny man with cybernetic implants and suspicious fashion taste. So my inspiration is swinging back and forth through the deep mythical epochs and distant futures of my fiction, which happens all the time in disconnected chains of reasoning. Category: Project Ur

Life
I decided to visit the movies by myself from now on. In secret. Due to something that my hubbie does habitually everytime we go there. We have different ideas of how to enjoy a show, and definitions of a good film. Among other things.

Quote of the Day
Something I picked up from the anime AQUARION last night: The miserable deserves to be. Because the character hesitated a nanosecond to take the hand of her beloved when a mark of the enemy appeared in him. For that nanosecond, her beloved was turned to the enemy. She blamed herself for adding another formidable opponent in the enemy's rank. A simpleton consoles her with Why should you do anything at all in the first place? in relation to her beloved being born with the enemy's mark. For there was nothing she could have done ... but to love him without hesitation.