A Chocolate-Flavoured Mind

Glamourously Myself

darkblood — Wed, 19 Jan 2011 09:24:08 +0000

Myself

Oh captain, my captain….
I never know how things are going to turn out. Not really. Since you last heard from me, I have done and experienced so much. I have an account on deviantART.com, under laila~cake.
I am getting better and better all the time. I’m busy, and there’s a lot of pressure, but the sky is right in font of me. So, all of my love to you-

Filed under: Rhiara's Parlour

Dance Team: Melt-Your-Face-Off Hot!

darkblood — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 04:59:17 +0000

Well, I found the sport for me. The new MHS dance team, the Dance Cats, is now officially my “thing.” The other girls are awesome and supportive, the coach is great, and the routines are great! Since I joined late- the n00b as usual- I’ve had to learn all four routines in a third of the time, but I am owning it! This sport is definitely going to be a big part of my life from now on… go Dance Cats! RAWR!!!

Posted in Rhiara's Parlour Tagged: bearcats, dance cats, fun, new girl, school, sports, team

The Princess Bride

darkblood — Sat, 08 Aug 2009 02:23:09 +0000

I love the movie sooo much. This has to be the greatest romance/adventure/comedy/whatever movie of all time. “As you wish…”

Posted in Rhiara's Parlour Tagged: comedy, movie, romance, the Princess Bride

Finally: I got Pictures!!!

darkblood — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 21:02:18 +0000

So, I’m just going to post a picture and a poem today, as I’m busy (bored) waiting for my Maman Basorg (grandmother) to get here from Iran.

this is a picture my mom took for a class project of hers. I NEVER actually dress like this, trust me!

and a short poem of mine:

Love In Summer

Love is nice, but summer’s better

No heartache, and nicer weather

Love is nice, but chocolate’s sweeter

Tastes just fine but not as bitter

Posted in Rhiara's Parlour Tagged: bored, family, fashion, Iran, mom, poetry, summer

Dance

darkblood — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 00:14:08 +0000

i dance

i jump

i twist and shout

i kick and

let it out.

i sway

i turn

i close my eyes

i arch and

praise the skies.

Just a short poem for you there, letting you know that I’m still alive. So alive! Spring has sprung and been beaten back by rain more than once now, but hopefully- knock on wood!- this time, it’s here to stay. How much joy does this small world contain, and how do I share it, for at this moment I feel sure that my heart will overflow with the happiness.

There doesn’t have to be a reason for joy and gladness.

It just is.

Posted in Rhiara's Parlour

Love and Poetry

darkblood — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 05:02:37 +0000

Maybe, if Love was a person, it-he?-she?- would take the form of a being, sexless, neither man nor woman, but beautiful and ethereal like the timeless image of a golden angel. But, in my head, the picture I see when I wonder who Love looks like isn’t and angel or a cherubic, chubby Cupid, but my own dear Silverblaze. Both her and Darkblood are based on two completely different perceptions of myself and how I would be if I were like them. Silverblaze, unlike Darkblood, likes people, but isn’t very good with them. She’s a little shyer, and a lot sweeter in nature. Sil is the part of me that falls in love, adores animals- especially baby animals- with a fierce, protective, overwhelming tenderness, and believes that there is some good in everybody. I see her, my good side, my human side, as the personification of Love. Her hair- shoulder-length, dark brown and curly like mine- falling in ringlets over her huge, liquid dark eyes, full of a sweet, joyful love. This is the kind of love that is overlaid across life like rose-tinted glasses, making life brighter and people better. She is beauty and goodness and Love- a modern, human Aphrodite.
And before I log off, a poem:

Compelled

Steal a heart and bring it back
Tame as a broken colt
Feel a feather, snaps a back
Gently taking hold
All through time shall love sustain
Memory, beauty, grace
Across all land love bringing pain
A touch, a voice, no face.
A shadow worrying in my mind
Asking once again
If we were closer, space and time,
Would there have been this pain?

Posted in Rhiara's Parlour Tagged: heartbreak, love, musing, poetry, random, silverblaze, thoughts

Better and better, baby

darkblood — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 05:12:53 +0000

I’ve been doing so well in high school, in life, in whatever. My finals grades rocked, btw, and my social life is beautifully hectic. My art has improve hugely, I’ve written two more really great songs, my writing’s going well, and luckily there aren’t any huge crushes at the moment to make my life miserable. I’m so happy, and I can only hope that things continue this way. There’s nogalista, of course, and I miss my old friends- I always will. But life I moving on, and I plan to move right along with it.

To interrupt the cheerful, perky note, I am feeling lonely… especially being a dateless, boyfriendless girl at Valentine’s Day and Tolo… and as I’m listening to these two songs I’m really missing the feeling of being with someone. (the italicized bits are the really meaningful ones…)

With Me by Sum 41

I don’t want this moment to ever end, where everything’s nothing without you. I’ll wait here forever just, just to see you smile, cause it’s true. I am nothing without you. Through it all, I’ve made my mistakes, I’ll stumble and fall, but I mean these words-

I want you to know, with everything I won’t let this go. These words are my heart and soul. I held on to those moments, you know, cause I’d bleed my heart out to show, and I won’t let go. Thoughts went unspoken, forever and now. Listen as memories fall to the ground. I know why I did it and so, I won’t let this go, cause it’s true. I am nothing, without you.

All these streets, where I walked alone, with nowhere to go, have come to an end-

I want you to know, with everything I won’t let this go. These words are my heart and soul. I held on to those moments, you know, cause I’d bleed my heart out to show, and I won’t let go. In front of your eyes, it falls from the skies, when you don’t know what you’re looking to find. In front of your eyes, it falls from the skies, when you just never know what you will find. (What you will find)

I don’t want this moment, to ever end. Where everything’s nothing, without you.

I want you to know, with everything I won’t let this go. These words are my heart and soul. I held on to those moments, you know, and I’d bleed my heart out to show, and I won’t let go. And I won’t let go.

I love that song, even though I makes me sad… i don’t have enough time/ energy to post the other (With You, by Jessica Simpson, it’s really good)

I guess I’ll go take a bath now to cheer up. Hopefully, I’ll post again soon, so just hold on for now, and here’s this brand-new original poem to tide you over till then:

Beauty worshipped, always worth it.

Beauty blooming, bask in crooning

Beauty lasting, ever fasting

Beauty dying, lovers lying

Beauty faded, alone and jaded

Posted in Rhiara's Parlour

Very Short Post

darkblood — Sat, 27 Dec 2008 09:24:16 +0000

It is 1:21 and now officially December 27th. I am sitting in bed with my laptop and WHY can I NOT SLEEP?!?? This is ridiculous. I… I am very very tired…. but I’m not sleeping… why is this?

Posted in Rhiara's Parlour Tagged: late, short, sleep, tired

Twas the day after Christmas… yawn.

darkblood — Sat, 27 Dec 2008 02:34:21 +0000

And I am dog-tired. The expression makes no sense, but there you go. The family couldn’t get here yesterday and we couldn’t get to them (snowed in, of course, by over two feet of chilly winter evil), so we’re having a delayed Christmas dinner with the rellies: my Nana and Poppop, my uncle, his Austrailian girlfriend and her sister (both really cool people, my stamp of approval for them), my padres, the Twins, and I. Nannie (great-grandmother, she lives in a little “apartment” downstairs that takes up a bit over half of the first floor) is at my Uncle’s staying the night, so we have exactly ten people, which is exactly the number of chairs at our awesomely cool dinner table.
The table is actually a huge converted DOOR that used to be the door to an ancient Indian montastary. It’s made of acadia wood, and has these gorgeous carvings along the sides. Very antique, all that junk.
Now, I just HAVE to tell you what I got for Christmas (only the main stuff, I won’t list all the stocking-stuffers or anything.) I asked for, and recieved, a Waveboard- if you don’t already know what it is, look it up- a Christmas outfit from H&M, and the complete boxed DVD set of Monty Python’s Flying Circus, which is 16 discs long, and no slouch of a present either. Oh yeah, and my Nainnie gave me a plain red flannel throw blanket. Goodie.
At the moment, I’m avoiding being sociable by sitting in my room on my zebra-striped beanbag trying to reconfigure the settings on my stupid hand-me-dowm laptop. Which I totally love and am grateful for, by the way (trying not to inflict the wrath of the Slow-Down-Your-Piece-Of-Crap-Laptop gods here).
Darkblood is being put on hold for Christmas vacation. I’ve discovered that I do my best writing at school, and subsequentially all three of the books are being written simultaniously as scattered across about a dozen different notebooks. Progress is slower than one would expect, but writing is really hard to do in my circumstances. Most of the time I’m at school or doing school related work, and the rest of the time I tend to be sketching (on the plus side my artwork is hugely improved), reading, playing Gameboy, watching TV, surfing the Net, writing songs or poetry, or hanging out with friends. The time I get to write is pretty tiny with everything else that I have to do.
And now, here’s a piece of a song I’m working on.

Longing And Frustration
What good is a love of music
if it never goes your way
I’ve heard the song of the world inside my head
but it’s a tune that I’ll never play.
What good is a love of rhythm
if I’m a step behind the beat
if the drumsticks always clatter down to the floor
and the dance is too fast for my feet
What good is a love of playing
if your instument can’t be tuned
if the guitar strings just snap to cut the back of my hand
if your flute’s broken and silent, ruined
What good is a love of singing
if nobody knows that you can
if you’re alway put down and never get your big chance
and if you only have one real fan
What good is a love of music
if my arias I sing alone
if the melody falls beyond my grasp
if the tearstains blur the notes
What good are my heart-song’s lyrics
if nobody wants to hear
if nobody cares to know, oh
what good is a love of music like this if
nobody wants
and nobody cares to know.

Posted in Rhiara's Parlour

Poem: Seasons Cycle

darkblood — Wed, 17 Dec 2008 02:58:42 +0000

I wonder why the world wheels round
and never stops to rest.
I wonder if it makes a sound
in space, as one might guess.
We only see the shifting sky
when days and nights exchange
But colors do not pass us by
in seasons they arrange
The brilliant blue of summer skies
its gold heat shimmering
The verdant lawns and children’s cries
warm nights in starlight glimmering
Red-orange-golden autumn trees
your breath as thick white mist
Back to class in a chilly breeze
faces of friends you’ve missed
Then creeping winter lengthens night
silver etchings with frost
White snow, warm holiday firelight
a cozy sleeper lost
And spring comes green along with rain
gray skies, rainbow flowers
Preparing for the warmth again
through melting, growing hours
The seasons change and seasons go
leaving us in a blink
Leaving us wondering how we know
if time is what we think.

Posted in Rhiara's Parlour Tagged: cycle, musing, random, seasons, year