tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58911190473326083912024-03-12T23:03:45.707-07:00Random RamblingsSee my creative, wonderful, open side here... and see to me talk to no one... Unless you listenlkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-84634615501598532832012-02-28T01:50:00.001-08:002012-02-28T01:50:19.165-08:00Colorless Eyes - LKJSlain<br />
Awake too late <br />
and I'm looking for the answers - <br />
too many questions in my head. <br />
Was it right? <br />
Was it wrong that I remember. <br />
Something left unsaid.<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm not the devil <br />
But I wear a good disguise. <br />
I'm not psychotic, <br />
I'm just strange. <br />
I have no sympathy for colorless eyes <br />
I need time to re-engage.<br />
<br />
<br />
The chance I need<br />
Is in your grasp<br />
You hold the rope around my neck<br />
Now it's time to gasp. <br />
<br />
<br />
I speak a lot of words<br />
that have very little meaning<br />
Around 1AM I pour out me<br />
Will you ever reach out to me <br />
or is that out of the question<br />
What do you need me to be? <br />
<br />
I write thoughts down that transcend <br />
your every fiber.<br />
Maybe you feel me inside your soul.<br />
And if that scares you<br />
then baby I've only just begun my fight.<br />
I need a moment to become whole.<br />
<br />
<br />
The chance I need <br />
Is in your grasp.<br />
You hold the rope around my neck<br />
Now it's time to gasp. <br />
<br />
The dreams I have <br />
are reflected in your mind.<br />
The one's we've always left unsaid<br />
Turning the page <br />
has never been easy for either of us<br />
It's time to do the thing that I dread. <br />
<br />
I know you think <br />
that I have my own agenda now. <br />
I know you think I see an end.<br />
But colorless eyes <br />
tell an entirely different story now<br />
Why can't it just be that you're my friend? <br />
Why can't it just be that you're my friend? <br />
Why can't it just be that you're my friend? - LKJ Slainlkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-65598470660638525602012-02-07T12:28:00.000-08:002012-02-07T12:28:38.754-08:00Admittedly, a no one<br />
So, at some point in my existence. (Okay, ever since I could speak really) I
have always had this idea that someday I would make a "play"
"movie" / something???<br />
<br />
I am standing here, in 2012 to tell you, that after filming a "pilot"
just over a year ago now - it appears that the actual series might be a total
reality. O_o... <br />
<br />
It looks like I have a cast (or at least most of) and as I sit and write up
character sheets and review script ideas, I can not even close to believe that
this could be a reality. It's really all just for fun. No one has any extensive
training on this, or anything. But, I've had multiple people tell me now that I
have some kind of natural talent and I need to go to school for it. <br />
<br />
Honestly? I would LOVE to go to school for all of this jazz. I have had acting
training (although admittedly, I need WAY more, and would love to get it) the
biggest problem (Which everyone faces now days) is a severe lack of cashola.
The exact contents of my pockets might actually create moths. <br />
<br />
Now having been part of Beckinfield since early January, I have been raised to
a point of realizing that when everyone keeps telling me that I can do this...
Maybe, in fact, I can O_o... I was contacted by the staff a few times and told
that I am doing well, and that I have produced "stellar" videos in
the past. But what is perhaps more exciting to me, is the fact that in the line
up of "most watched videos" - while none of them were "me"
and "my character" out of the twelve, FOUR of them were made by yours
truly. I was astounded. <br />
<br />
My father (who has actually written film scores before) has offered to not only
ACT for this project, but to also write us our OWN music. GASP! Then there's my
next door neighbor, who not only happens to be an actor, but also flat out
offered to be the serial killer character in this whole debacle! <br />
<br />
Uh... YES?!??!?! <br />
<br />
Even though this is all entirely for fun, and no one hopes to get
"famous" or "rich" or even really "noticed" I
can't imagine the amounts of FUN we will have just getting this off the ground.
I am totally stoked. <br />
<br />
We are looking at cameras, microphones, and trying to figure out where we can
get the money, cut costs, etc.<br />
<br />
Then there's me... The person who's writing, directing, and has (stupidly)
decided to take on one of the main characters. <br />
<br />
God...? O_O Admittedly, I am no one. <o:p></o:p>lkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-83194638871992625542012-02-07T12:08:00.001-08:002012-02-07T12:09:02.421-08:00One Breath - LKJSlain<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" class="blogbody" id="blogitembody">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td width="5%"></td>
<td valign="top"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">
</span><br />
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4f306d4fb5e519f00792839">
Just
one breath...<br />
if it's all the same.<br />
One moment and then I
realize<br />
Now, this is your game. <br />
<br />
<span class="text_exposed_hide">...</span><span class="text_exposed_show"> Quickly I am
cornered <br />in my very own cage.<br />Won't let you overcome me now<br />All I have
is my rage.<br /><br />There you are pounding,<br />and yes you're trying to get
in.<br />There you are knocking<br />against the inside of my skin.<br /><br />Crawling
like a weak animal<br />certainly won't save me<br />and trying hard to run
away<br />might even more enslave me.<br /><br />STAY AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE<br />And
yet... I'm just drawn to you.<br />It's the smell isn't it? <br />Can't breathe when
I'm around you.<br /><br />One breath, and it comes flooding back<br />The very thing
that turns me on.<br />One breath and I clench my fists, <br />and pray that it
will soon be dawn. <br /><br />Are you friend or are you brother, <br />Are you ghost
or real?<br />Leave me alone please? <br />I just don't want to feel. -
LKJSlain</span></div>
</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>lkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-61436432292778168392012-02-02T01:06:00.000-08:002012-02-02T01:07:08.478-08:00A Thought on LustDelightful image<br />
in my mind.<br />
Oh, delightful image, <br />
you are unkind. <br />
<br />
Go away, <br />
lest you fuel<br />
The aching <br />
that I have for you. <br />
<br />
You peaceful tormentor- <br />
you aim to snare!<br />
You make me insane, <br />
can't find the air.<br />
<br />
You drive me to madness<br />
You've only begun<br />
Your visage- a bullet<br />
and me- the gun <br />
<br />
Never so desperate<br />
Need to hide<br />
Never a thought <br />
of sweeter suicide. <br />
<br />
To my temple, <br />
pulling back<br />
kill me quickly, <br />
fade to black.<br />
<br />
Over come <br />
to feel your skin<br />
to drink you up, <br />
to take you in. <br />
<br />
To come over you <br />
as you lay bare,<br />
To whisper your name <br />
to touch your hair. <br />
<br />
Poisoned now, <br />
because it's hatched<br />
the salacious itch <br />
that I can not scratch. - lkjslainlkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-1892106622381317672011-02-18T09:22:00.000-08:002011-02-18T09:22:23.183-08:00My Rather Frightening Experience with J.WowDid I even spell that right? Ah, heck, I don't care. - <br />
<br />
So, my husband and I have been dating. (Each other, not other people :P) and upon our dating, we decided to make our way into a Borders books the other night. When we pulled up, I told him that I was sure that we wanted to be here. Outside, was a line of several hundred 14-17 year olds, mostly girls. <br />
<br />
The doors to Borders opened and they all stampeded in. We had no idea what the flip was going on. We were there to find books for our acting class.<br />
<br />
Anyways, inside the store, teenagers were left and right shouting, screaming, and holding J.Wow's book "The Rules According to J.Wow..." <br />
<br />
It just so happened that the "theatre" section was in an area that was apparently "forbidden" because the elusive "J.Wow" was just about twenty feet away. A heavy man came to us and told us that we could not stand there. My husband and I exchanged glances like he was crazy. "We just came here for a book!" I said. He shook his head, "No you can't stand here..." <br />
Some girl screamed "I LOVE YOU J.WOW!!!" <br />
<br />
Grumbling, my husband and I found the "drama" section elsewhere in the store. Thank God that section had everything that we were looking for. Apparently, this was a book signing, but, J.Wow wasn't even there for more than forty minutes. <br />
<br />
What I found frightening about this whole thing is that, I have no idea who J.Wow is (except that she is on Jersey Shore, which I don't watch) but that ninety percent of the people there to buy her book and get it signed were very young teens. Like I said, some of them were groups of no older than 14 (the other 10 percent were an odd mix, but a good chunk of them were older men...). Giggly, cussing, hanging off of one another, it was really quite a frightening scene. I was wondering where all of the parents were. It was also frightening because the sea of raging hormones trounced and stampeded into this store for all of forty minutes and then all disappeared. No one was there to read, or look at other books... They were all there to get J.Wow's book signed by J.Wow. <br />
<br />
My husband and I helped a friend find something and stayed for a few more minutes to get me an extra journal. This is suddenly when I realized that I don't quite know HOW, but somehow J.Wow had VANISHED... The entire back of the store was open again. <br />
<br />
During my entire book shopping experience, I never ONCE caught a glimpse of J.Wow... not even a blink. I told my husband "I don't know who she is... but, I most certainly wouldn't be listening to her rules..." <br />
<br />
What do you think? Do you know of/like J.Wow? Do you think she's a good role model for hundreds of fourteen-seventeen year old girls?lkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-12084584004787394822010-12-05T10:20:00.000-08:002010-12-05T10:20:46.609-08:00SALE SALE SALE!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpRZ9Aw5Gg_ZA_zoIbaQEnMINI5iwxFBDgAGT5SOvsfBNqzqXbkg25bqGgue1C0wGQc0_-UevuG1XNsMXQyQujl1iUARrsjwMazs7YvgvSiChtwRvssg7RYrq9gDpfgBCgIhi_m34geeY/s1600/IMG_0443.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpRZ9Aw5Gg_ZA_zoIbaQEnMINI5iwxFBDgAGT5SOvsfBNqzqXbkg25bqGgue1C0wGQc0_-UevuG1XNsMXQyQujl1iUARrsjwMazs7YvgvSiChtwRvssg7RYrq9gDpfgBCgIhi_m34geeY/s200/IMG_0443.JPG" width="188" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_l5ov05NurxKIcIbHxLpMubwk5e2ZkFDAQ_-iPQWqsYwFRqTAGj2JelzmGKbWaf39Jyz8hR2YUnoUNPmS5VOfp99xRD6lQLzgBRpAX0GxtWdiqi-Qmc8h6rJwneQGxtJKTs6CASjvI2M/s1600/il_430xN_78923367.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_l5ov05NurxKIcIbHxLpMubwk5e2ZkFDAQ_-iPQWqsYwFRqTAGj2JelzmGKbWaf39Jyz8hR2YUnoUNPmS5VOfp99xRD6lQLzgBRpAX0GxtWdiqi-Qmc8h6rJwneQGxtJKTs6CASjvI2M/s200/il_430xN_78923367.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
~~~~~~~~ SALE!!! 25% OFF ENTIRE STORE UNTIL DECEMBER 20TH~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
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CHECK IT OUT!!!<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUqsAryErq8u1I-oCXlzincA6TDxq_Ww2R2b6PLPAXN6G32hdEUr4uFEQJSDb5WYi8OEMopY-e1_HQpuKvxww7dXUECMd5jU7O9OgVYhImrkIcSJKXPSNakdmm5fsBpDNeA41NC4YXr6c/s1600/Oceans+Forever+Necklace1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUqsAryErq8u1I-oCXlzincA6TDxq_Ww2R2b6PLPAXN6G32hdEUr4uFEQJSDb5WYi8OEMopY-e1_HQpuKvxww7dXUECMd5jU7O9OgVYhImrkIcSJKXPSNakdmm5fsBpDNeA41NC4YXr6c/s320/Oceans+Forever+Necklace1.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.lisaslittleluxuries.etsy.com/">http://www.lisaslittleluxuries.etsy.com/</a></div>lkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-10694922279194058532010-11-22T17:11:00.000-08:002012-02-07T12:09:10.664-08:00Fireflies video<iframe frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/P32DA_rQN-k?fs=1" width="425"></iframe>lkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-23518379860886187172010-11-15T00:35:00.001-08:002010-11-15T00:35:12.281-08:00The Woman in the wellI cannot take another step,<br />
For great fear that I may fall. <br />
I’m only eggshell at it’s best,<br />
A buffed up china doll. <br />
And though I try so hard to find<br />
The best way to forget, <br />
my hardened, burning heart it bleeds<br />
And makes another bet. <br />
I’m mocked and licked, <br />
And kissed so hard, I cannot feel the pain.<br />
I have only a slight hemorrhage <br />
with nothing left to gain.<br />
A deep hole is before me, <br />
And one that leads to hell<br />
And no one stands beside me<br />
But the woman in the well. – LKJ Slainlkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-27761430419313710672010-11-11T21:05:00.000-08:002010-11-11T21:05:02.158-08:00Your face<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO7XUqBLTXNMA5kiYaW8QdmzAk4WgtyoiH12iq6j2CdnyNodMjnLu7OtWsKBAiNWU7IFDqVyVVm5C9UWPeo2GsN5FYp-ALGHihhIseSmUvSrEenSHYslTy1MOgrJMTMFgagRFxqSNDHf8/s1600/36955_402451836923_617206923_4987753_4252984_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="234" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO7XUqBLTXNMA5kiYaW8QdmzAk4WgtyoiH12iq6j2CdnyNodMjnLu7OtWsKBAiNWU7IFDqVyVVm5C9UWPeo2GsN5FYp-ALGHihhIseSmUvSrEenSHYslTy1MOgrJMTMFgagRFxqSNDHf8/s320/36955_402451836923_617206923_4987753_4252984_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Sometimes, I only need to see your FACE <br />
<br />
<br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">And it reminds me of why I'm doing what I am. </div>lkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-50643134800608219542010-11-04T02:24:00.000-07:002010-11-04T02:24:51.635-07:00Jewelry commercial<object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HP9EiK-TaNo?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HP9EiK-TaNo?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>lkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-7485271660099600512010-10-29T14:55:00.000-07:002010-10-29T14:55:23.937-07:00The October VLOG CHALLENGE<object style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/xMs5Adl3oYw/hqdefault.jpg)" width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xMs5Adl3oYw?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xMs5Adl3oYw?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>lkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-5268974475316975222010-10-26T12:05:00.000-07:002010-10-26T12:05:01.629-07:00SALE has been extended!<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="173" nx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3uQuKRrrT_z5UrLwz4jXA14hmOl3YgLxUHPvD_ZrJYAxuczMZIkzyagJtp6JLEhwIn_BfjClgFxkgC9DQdApr7eHmtLnm81RyXBzpp0FgAr8ihgxgfghcReepSIIUvD1mRzWayvC1Itc/s200/IMG_0342.JPG" width="200" /><br />
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/49594034/vintage-brass-emerald-city-earrings">http://www.etsy.com/listing/49594034/vintage-brass-emerald-city-earrings</a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Until holloween, get 30% off your entire purchase! Refund through paypal~ <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq20yIbonwd_DcRXkjNNRZzAA_7LvstZ9MpgL3bEH3t0SstuWjWZG0gez68j8LzVY9_N_nLMKtxs1yl_MjWNJ-1P_PNmVdp_qT6S5b5OebD60_OKDYqXXLBfutxtvVdtCkhvtve7Wyp4s/s1600/IMG_1939.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq20yIbonwd_DcRXkjNNRZzAA_7LvstZ9MpgL3bEH3t0SstuWjWZG0gez68j8LzVY9_N_nLMKtxs1yl_MjWNJ-1P_PNmVdp_qT6S5b5OebD60_OKDYqXXLBfutxtvVdtCkhvtve7Wyp4s/s320/IMG_1939.JPG" width="267" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/56535520/paramore-necklace">http://www.etsy.com/listing/56535520/paramore-necklace</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8fC39-yC69wenh6ZW3QY3-fd4vtNve0w8xB7r01yoijTopB35Wz3xU87HFLqI_XOMGcPPiKkpwqEEBOg2OD89S5pO4x4ub1Oo0Bw2JvOoGl8xRaW2qWIcmarOq52017yGJOQxZRDZZ8/s1600/IMG_0327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8fC39-yC69wenh6ZW3QY3-fd4vtNve0w8xB7r01yoijTopB35Wz3xU87HFLqI_XOMGcPPiKkpwqEEBOg2OD89S5pO4x4ub1Oo0Bw2JvOoGl8xRaW2qWIcmarOq52017yGJOQxZRDZZ8/s320/IMG_0327.JPG" width="234" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/48287946/glass-pearl-crystal-fashion-your">http://www.etsy.com/listing/48287946/glass-pearl-crystal-fashion-your</a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKYDVFXI6j8c1-Uanin3_xZQ1NQtzJiYbMva4MxjUBBH6iAQiZCvDd4Nc09gfQtan_nJM27E5V4jvUmONAtTLznjaaCKfcvkkon9Ryh8ScEk8ZVfS4sGMNgEqKEuiG5JPEVVl5DV5wdbY/s1600/IMG_0609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" nx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKYDVFXI6j8c1-Uanin3_xZQ1NQtzJiYbMva4MxjUBBH6iAQiZCvDd4Nc09gfQtan_nJM27E5V4jvUmONAtTLznjaaCKfcvkkon9Ryh8ScEk8ZVfS4sGMNgEqKEuiG5JPEVVl5DV5wdbY/s200/IMG_0609.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/41787495/antique-gold-paris-france-earrings">http://www.etsy.com/listing/41787495/antique-gold-paris-france-earrings</a><br />
Grab something for the holidays! :D </div>lkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-57921609811476643232010-10-25T16:18:00.000-07:002010-10-25T16:18:32.012-07:00A New Day<object style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i2.ytimg.com/vi/1yYNJ5rkakU/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1yYNJ5rkakU?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1yYNJ5rkakU?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>lkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-11644047892436621332010-10-24T12:47:00.000-07:002010-10-24T12:47:45.423-07:00Thoughts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The sounds of a wandering soul are sorrowful, and full of mourning. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnQATe2Af5UTTUyVJYKfaXb254ThQkWE-faZ8i-RGDX8qr_BlnL4B6-bw4cUEXXlAjCZ0sIsRj_UefoAAm_ezCW8uyRrM9IE6pzeT1gI2Cd9cy4lffH1qGt0OkaViTgnr70iCsPVIbLrA/s1600/9973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnQATe2Af5UTTUyVJYKfaXb254ThQkWE-faZ8i-RGDX8qr_BlnL4B6-bw4cUEXXlAjCZ0sIsRj_UefoAAm_ezCW8uyRrM9IE6pzeT1gI2Cd9cy4lffH1qGt0OkaViTgnr70iCsPVIbLrA/s320/9973.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>The sounds of a soul in love are rapture and delight, moving freely through time, and space. Sit now, and hear them. - LKJ Slainlkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-30552885291462773862010-10-20T15:09:00.000-07:002010-10-20T15:11:02.846-07:00I'm having a sale!<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">For the rest of the week (Until sunday) <br />
<br />
Grab 30% off your entire purchase from Lisas Little Luxurires! The refund will be given through paypal! <br />
<a href="http://www.lisaslittleluxuries.etsy.com/">http://www.lisaslittleluxuries.etsy.com/</a> <br />
<br />
Come check out some of my NEW BEAUTIFUL WORK! <br />
LOVELY long necklaces and their matching earrings -<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDWRYwTbRBmfZaDzIYiEkevXRMX1kGuUJ47uKCxXRP3Y6iZNVMWkr8lpMslMdAZ_TVduzkWzQ_pN3NV_WzY4YhECzrFXJoQcmVEVDBIAeJ_YlteMpygBRHYXJxJMrsG0Hanegy5vcwE78/s1600/Oceans+Forever+Necklace8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDWRYwTbRBmfZaDzIYiEkevXRMX1kGuUJ47uKCxXRP3Y6iZNVMWkr8lpMslMdAZ_TVduzkWzQ_pN3NV_WzY4YhECzrFXJoQcmVEVDBIAeJ_YlteMpygBRHYXJxJMrsG0Hanegy5vcwE78/s320/Oceans+Forever+Necklace8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/59497638/glass-and-antique-gold-oceans-forever">http://www.etsy.com/listing/59497638/glass-and-antique-gold-oceans-forever</a><br />
<br />
</div>Come grab something for the holidays! I'll give you 30% back!lkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891119047332608391.post-23607703287857339542010-10-20T14:54:00.000-07:002010-10-20T14:54:34.009-07:00Dark Secrets -So, this just exploded into my mind... andddd, I have no where else to file it right except "This crazy scene that I wrote that has no connection to anything else..." I KNOW the rest of the story, which also got downloaded into my mind in about twenty five seconds, but only in a "this is what happens" sort of way. - <br />
<br />
I give unto you, THIS THING THAT I WROTE!!! <br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><em><u>Discovering that Randy Peretti is not the man that she believed she married, Alicia closes herself off from the world in an attempt to cope with his dark truths. She is ordered to pretend happiness, and smile, and for awhile she obeys Randy fearful of what he’ll do. Eventually however, she can’t take the silence anymore. Realizing her own strength, and becoming tired of the prison that he has put her in, she goes on a spree of her own –</u></em> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“This was not for your eyes!” he cried, pointing. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">She leaned against the wall. “Is it true?” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was silence between them for far too long. It seemed like an eternity. She saw within him the struggle, the conversation. What was he going to tell her? </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes.” He replied coldly. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She felt numb all over. Staggering away, she somehow ended up on the couch. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Her eyes were moist, and glazed. Her focus was on some thing that Randy could not see. It was as though she were caught somewhere between here and reality. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">She sat like this for many moments, before her jaw slacked and she turned to her young husband- too young in fact, too young to carry the weight of an assassin. He was small too, not tiny, but not the kind of man that she suspected would be a killer. How had she never known this? How had he kept it from her? She was trying to remind herself of the actions that would allow her to breathe. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">His eyes were cold, with a hint of sadness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Her mind flashed to their wedding day. It moved over the velvet on the tables and the yellow cake- the brightness that his eyes lacked completely now. The vows had been spoken in a way that would have made the coldest non-believer fall in love. They’d written their own vows several nights before, and when they had, they’d made love. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">It left a stale taste in her mouth, and made her throat dry as sand. She looked to him, wanting any of the kindness that he’d shown her in dating. Wanting any of the reassurance that he’d given to her on hard nights when he had held her close. She found nothing. This man was a stranger. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Who are you</i>?” she breathed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I’m your husband,” came his very soft reply. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“You <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">are not </i>my husband!” she cried, slapping her knees manically. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “My husband goes to church on Sunday, he’s a body guard, and works security.” She put her face to her palms and wept; now not holding anything back.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I’m still your husband.” He said, and he slowly put himself beside her on the couch, she felt herself leaning away from him. His entire demeanor was cold. He was trying to soothe her, but it was false somehow. His eyes held no expression. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Look at me…” he took her chin, and gently, but firmly moved it to his face. She looked back at him with hatred now, “Look at me,” he was still calm, but there was something threatening in his tone. She obeyed and her expression softened. When she softened, her tears began again. “Be at peace.” He said calmly. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">She jerked away. “Peace? There’s no peace now!” she sobbed. She stood, and tried to back away from him, “Women, and children?” she demanded. He arose, his air was confident and frightfully elegant, he nodded only once. “How could you do this?” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“It’s what I am.” He took one step towards her. Her heart pounded and she laid herself against the wall. Somehow, she never expected to be afraid of Randy. Randy of all people! He was quiet, and kind. He was the guy who raised his glass to toast first at charities. He was the guy who’d offered to take care of his brother’s children last year when he and his wife went away on a cruise for their anniversary. He had stayed up every night to tell them bedtime stories, tuck them in, and pray for them. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Her eyes met his. She loved him didn’t she? </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Randy’s face seemed to see the internal monologue that she was having with herself. She loved him, she hated him, she loved him, she hated him. He took another step. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Don’t come near me.” She whispered, again taken with this new information. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Alicia, this can go two ways.” He whispered, and she immediately took note of the warning in his tone. Her eyes widened in fear, “Until now, I’ve protected you…” he said, and he was reaching his hand out to touch her forearm in that loving, yet mildly possessive way that he always had. She got the feeling however that when his hand actually reached her, it wasn’t quite going to be the same. She lurched back again, tight against the wall. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He grabbed her wrist, and pulled her up against him. Again, she didn’t know who was handling her. This wasn’t Randy! This was a dream! </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“You will continue to be my wife. You will go to the charity tonight, and wear the dress that I picked out. You will smile, and you will converse, and you will not say a word,” he forced her to stop squirming, “to anyone about any of this.” He smiled and lifted a curled finger to her tear, “Do you understand?” she closed her eyes, how could she bear it? “Alicia? Do you understand?” he asked, and this time, even though there was still something false about it, the question seemed more genuine, more caring. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">She weighed her options. She didn’t have a choice did she? She clenched her eyes shut and nodded, tears streaking her cheeks. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Randy half smiled, “Good girl.” He whispered, pleased with himself. His eyes were so dark. She wasn’t sure if she was in the clear at all. “Now… go to the bedroom…” he said, his tone slightly sinister. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>* * * </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Alicia looked at herself in the mirror, a goddess really- holding her head high even though inside she was dying. She wore the dress that he’d wanted her to wear. It was blood red. Perhaps, to Randy, it was ironic. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">She gently put the red lipstick to her lips and began to smooth it over, she felt her eyes begin to moisten, and jerked back, putting her chin up in the air, refusing to cry any of her mascara off. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She didn’t want to upset Randy, but she shook as her eyes spotted his reflection behind her. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Dressed mostly in black, he put a champagne flute to his lips and sipped. Then his hand fell, and he cocked his head to one side, eyes running up the back of her body as he swallowed. She was noticing at this moment, as if for the first time ever, how elegant he really was- how very composed, how very sinister. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He saw her look at him, but then noted that she focused on her reflection again. She continued to apply the lipstick, afraid now. She was afraid that if she even went a small bit outside the line, he’d be furious with her. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Internally, she was trying to come to grips with these facts. She was the wife of a killer, and somehow, she’d never known. Somehow, she’d been hoodwinked for the last four years. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Um,” she cleared her shaky throat, “I can’t decide which necklace to wear,” she murmured. Her hand shook as she reached for the marble jewelry box. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She heard his footsteps approach, she closed her eyes, blocking out the fear. Those steps that once brought her happiness, and joy, would now always cause her dread and concern. She figured it was just another thing that she’d have to get used to. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She felt his breath on her shoulder, and it turned her to ice. “The gold one.” He whispered. She nodded, reached for it, and knew that he saw her hand shaking. She tucked her fingers into her palm.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hey…” he whispered, and he drug his fingertips up her neck, causing her to shake more internally. He didn’t see it. “Don’t be afraid,” he said putting his mouth near her ear. “You know a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">very </i>important secret.” He said, stroking the spot that would be her Adam’s apple were she a man, “That’s all.” He finished</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">His hand traveled to her shoulder blade. She flinched in pain at the bruise that was forming. He looked at her, she was still refusing to look back, “Was I a little too rough?” he asked. She glared at him, her eyes filling with hatred, “I’m sorry,” he said, it was false. He tipped her chin, “My beautiful wife.” He said with pride. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">She looked back at her own reflection, a puppet on a string. This woman in the glass was a shell, void of its internal contents. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Put your shoulders back.” He whispered, “and smile,” he gently poked her side, “Come on, smile baby.” He said. She did so, but drug her gaze to the ceiling to hide the moisture in her eyes. “That’s a good girl.” He backed away and left her to the mirror, sipping the champagne again. “You have a few minutes.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">She listened to his footsteps grow fainter and fainter before crumbling to the ground. She’d have to reapply her mascara. <br />
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I'm filing it until further notice. I'm sorry for what is probably many gramatical errors.<br />
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- LKJ Slain (me) </div>lkjslainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12533597433921496612noreply@blogger.com0