New Beginnings

dazwolf @ 2004-01-31T20:33:00

2004-02-01T03:35:48Z

I'm going on hiatus for a while until things get settled in my life. I'm sorry for putting you all on hold, and I'm doubly sorry for this being cross-posted on who knows how many journals.

Cya later guys.

dazwolf @ 2004-01-26T12:25:00

2004-01-26T19:30:03Z

I can't believe that he's gone...He was fine last night...I talked to him last night...He can't be gone...

dazwolf @ 2003-12-25T09:12:00

2003-12-25T16:34:54Z

Well, Merry Christmas to everyone out there who are sitting here reading updates like I am right now. So, thought I might tell everyone about my wonderful Christmas Eve antics, and I'm being very sarcastic.

I spent most of yesterday in a daze, feeling like a pile of bricks were on my chest, not the most comfortable thing. I've gotten used to it because I've been an asthmatic for most of my life. Well, last night things took a turn for the worst and I ended up in the Emergency Room, hyperventilating. I've never had that happen before, and it was not a fun experience. As I'm sitting here, I didn't end up dying, but I hope that never happens again.

In other news, I've been working on an art project for my brother's Christmas present. And although it won't be done in time (we all know this, I've been working on it right in front of him the whole time I've been here), dad got a new digital camera that I've had the honor of playing with. So, we get to show you some work in progress.

Kingdom Hearts is a video game that crosses Final Fantasy and Disney films, and is my brother's favorite game at the moment. Yay, here we go.

I know you can't see a lot of the detail in the later pictures, but I'll try to get close-ups later as more of the project is completed. Hope everyone has a good day.

The Epic is Complete

2003-12-17T16:57:29Z

I'm still trying to soak everything in that I watched this morning, and all I can say right now is 'wow.' Of course, I'm talking about Return of the King. Some nice person bought me a ticket to go since my friends from home all ditched me and went somewhere.

There will be no spoilers in this post since I know there are a ton of people who haven't seen it and would rather just not know about it. Yes, I can say it is a good film, easily in league with the others, but I'm still drifting back to The Two Towers as being my favorites out of the three. There are just some scenes that I wanted to groan at, but I'll go into those in another post later on. It was worth the wait.

Looks like I may not be moving home for Christmas, unfortunitly. Seems as though no one will buy my contract, and to buy it out myself will set me back $900 that I do not have. It would be more worth my while at this point to just stay and work my rear off and save up for May when I can go home and get out of here. Can't say I didn't try.

So, like usual, I've found myself in another bout of depression, and I don't know if being home for Christmas is going to help that out at all. The worst form of artist block, and it's hit me head on. What a mess.

Merry Christmas everyone, if I don't talk to you before then.

dazwolf @ 2003-11-16T22:59:00

2003-11-17T06:07:37Z

I did something really stupid tonight, and even though it seemed like nothing to me, I really hurt a friend's feelings badly, something that I would never want to happen, ever. The fact that it was over playing a game makes me feel even worse. I pride myself in the characters that I choose to play with, and the fact that this is what hurt this person, I really regret doing it now. They are the best player I've ever had the pleasure of playing with, and I wouldn't be where I am without them.

I don't know if they ever want to talk to me again, but I'm leaving this public as an apology to them. I know I screwed up, and if there's anything I can do...I just feel horrible, and I wish there were some way to get over this. :-\

dazwolf @ 2003-11-11T17:00:00

2003-11-12T00:19:06Z

I supposed I ought to update sometime, and not seemed as good as ever. The layout has been reworked, but eyes are about to fall out, and I have the graphic artist munchies. Art is like drugs yo, only good for you. Maybe it's just me, I don't know right now. I do know that now it's all purple and tealish and stuff, so it's all good.

So, the big show is in three days, and I don't know what to do with myself. I'm running out of time to have things done, and I'm hoping I pull together long enough to crank it all out. Guess I ought to say that I'm seeing Good Charlotte on Friday night. Should be an experience to write about.

School sucks, but you already knew that. I'm moving back home for the sake of my sanity. I can't live up here anymore, I just can't do it. And then there is all the RP stuff. Shall we count how many journals I have? Spread across three sites, I have: 8 Must Be Pop journals, 3 Fake Reality journals, 1 Idoless Punks journal, and 2 personal journals. I've lost my mind. That's 14 total that I write in and update. The challenge is, how many do you know that are actually me?

New Fic!

2003-10-16T11:09:41Z

Title: Shameless Information
Part: 1/1
Author/Pseudonym: DazWolf
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own them, don't know them, never said any of this
is true. No harm is meant, and no profit is made.
Fandom: SR-71
Pairing: Mitch Allan/?
Summary: Mitch comes home to find someone waiting for him.
Warnings: *Actual* smut. Don't blame me, blame the evil little muse
who calls himself 'Aaron.'
Notes: Taken from the journal of m_allan_sr71 (aka Mitch Allan).

I can smell him, can smell the sweetness of his sweat when I walk in
the door, wafting to me like a message loud and clear. I can taste
the salty tang against my tongue mixing with the memory of his skin.
It speaks in my mind, soft and giving against my lips and fingers,
warmth and feeling balling up inside of me. I close my eyes and let
it assault me, flood me, take me and violate me. I let every memory
rape me from the inside out as my feet move forward, making no sound
against the carpeted floor.

The pull gets stronger on me as I move through the kitchen, my
fingers brushing against the counter, flooding the space behind my
closed eyes with vibrant color. He's been here, pacing and watching
the clock swing the time away deathly slow, leaving his mark on
everything he touches like a flaming brand. I can see it, like he had
marked his territory, claimed my home for his own, my possessions for
his.

He had left his jacket hanging over the back of the couch, the black
fabric inviting to my fingers as I grasp it and hold it tightly to my
chest. I take a deep breath, inhaling all the scents that described
him and where he'd been. The smells of late summer are there, smells
of the city and of the wilderness. The trail of his musk holds me
entranced, drawing my entire attention back to him, his form in my
mind.

I put the jacket back reverently, brushing away the wrinkles that I
have put in it. I feel as if everything has to seem untouched once
more, as if the new master of this territory would come looking for
an offender, perhaps to even claim the offender as another of his
possessions like all the rest that lay random in my presence. I was a
trespasser in my own home, but it didn't stop my blind movement
forward.

I can hear music, his music, drifting from the back of the hallway,
invading me and drawing me in. My heart is beating frantically in my
chest, making my blood pulse and throb in my veins. It pounds in my
ears, my face burning hot as my own sweat fills the space around me
with its scent, mixing and combining with his. I feel drunk with
lust, licking and moistening my lips with a gentle flick of my tongue.

He is waiting for me, I can feel him burning holes into me with his
gaze, my eyes still closed. I know how he would look, crouching there
on my bed that I feel is even too small for what we usually manage to
do in it. His hair would be hanging down over his face, his eyes
would be glowing darkly at me, begging and demanding all in one
moment. He would bend my will and my soul until I melted and gave
into him, and he never failed.

"Open your eyes, Mitch."

I don't want to do it. Something inside of me wants to tease him,
taunt this new master to let him know and understand that his word is
not law. I still want to feel that I have some semblance of control
over him, though I know as soon as he ask of me, I will obey. I will
be his in heart, body, and soul for as long as he will have me.

I tremble as I feel his fingers brush over my cheek, his breath
ghosting over my neck as he kisses me softly. He pulls one of my
hands against his chest, the warmth of his bare skin sending shocks
through me as he nuzzles close. I can feel his heartbeat under my
fingers, pounding against his ribs like a caged animal fighting to
get free. What nearly breaks me is the sound of him murring deeply
into my ear, pushing himself against me.

"Mitch, I want you so bad baby. Mmmm, I want to feel you around me."

The words roll off his tongue like butter, slick and smooth. His
breath is hot, scorching as a bead of sweat slips from my brow, down
my neck and into my shirt. I know his eyes follow its trail, his
tongue creeping along my neck, tasting the salty liquid. I can feel
him against my thigh, hard and hot through the fabric of my jeans.

I open my eyes as his lips part with my skin, every other inch of him
still pressing against me like he was a part of me. His hands slide
under my shirt, easing it up and brushing against my skin so softly
that I begin to whimper, rubbing my thigh against his cock. His
fingers falter, a shiver running through him as he moans, his voice
thick with lust. He pulls my shirt off, tossing it behind him.

His hands move to my pants as he starts to move me back towards the
bed. I wonder how long he has been waiting, but the thought is stolen
from me as he thrusts his tongue into my mouth. He strokes it against
my own as his hand wraps around my length tightly. I gasp into his
mouth as he pushes me down on the bed, falling with me. He moves to
straddle my waist, his hands wandering as he pulls his tongue away.

My lips are parted as he looks down at me for a moment. There is so
much in his expression that I can never read it all before he changes
his tactics again. He attacks my chest, our cocks grinding together
in delicious heat as his teeth scrap over my nipples. I groan,
sparking a smile to grow over his features, finding more joy in
tonguing my hardened nubs. I writhe beneath him and he knows that he
has won, I have no control left at all.

"God, you are so beautiful. You're perfect."

He likes talking and watching me lose myself. I've seen the look come
across his face in the throws of passion, and I know how beautiful it
can be. We don't fake our feelings, and all I can see is love burning
in his eyes. I half expect him to act like he's cleaning his
whiskers, for I am always his prey.

I lick my lips, waiting for him to make his next move, getting
slightly impatient with his pace. He knows what he is doing to me,
slowly driving me crazy as he grinds down on me. He goes back to
nuzzling into my neck as he moves his legs in between my own,
spreading them with soft strokes against my thighs. Everywhere he
touches feels like it is being licked by flames, and I am lost again.

His fingers drift down over my balls, making me groan again at the
sensation. It doesn't last long as he slips his fingers lower,
pressing against my opening. I whimper and buck my hips when he
thrusts a finger into me, moving it slowly in and out of me. He has
me writhing again, wanting him buried within me.

He pulls my legs up around his waist as I feel the blunt head of his
cock pressing and teasing. Even though he's been gentle so far, I
know he won't be for long. He thrusts, driving himself into me with
long strokes. I shudder and moan, grabbing at his shoulders and
pulling him down against me. He kisses me deeply, sliding his tongue
against mine. His rhythm starts slowly pounding into me, both of us
sighing into the kiss.

I'm throbbing against his stomach, rubbing against his skin with each
of his thrusts into me. I tilt my head back, digging it into the
pillows behind me as his eyes burn into mine. He's at my neck again,
sucking and nipping, hissing in my ear.

"Ohhh fuck Mitch. You feel so good…"

He speeds up, pounding into me harder with every movement, driving
deeper into me. I close my eyes, hearing the beautiful sound of a
choked moan drifting from him. I know he's close, and he starts to
pant as his sweat drips onto my chest. He thrusts a few more times
before he comes hard within me, his warmth flooding into me.

His forehead rests against my chest as his hand finds my length
again. I gasp as he starts stroking me off as fast and hard as he
can, pulling me over the edge and into my orgasm. I cum all over his
hand and his chest, feeling it drip back down on me.

He stays on top of me, both of us breathing hard as we come back
down. I rub his back softly, sighing happily as I listen to our
heartbeats. He nuzzles my chest, murring deeply and vibrating against
me.

"Mmm, love you Mitch."

I know he means it, and I tell him the same. He falls asleep on me
and I watch him for a few long moments. He's so peaceful, the
moonlight filtering down through the window and across his still
features. I brush my hand against his cheek, kissing the top of his
head before I snuggle down into the blankets.

"Love you too, Puppy."

Story Time w/ Pictures!

2003-09-09T14:45:16Z

Yeah, okay, I don't usually do this, but after messing with ideas for the past two days, this begs to be written and a few things beg to be shown off.

I finally got around to 'drawing' again, though I hate doing CG art because I've just got this really crappy mouse, so everything takes forever. Someone told me to draw something on this BBS board two nights ago, and I thought I'd give it a go. Heaven forbid that my coloring could have been any worse. I should have just left this as a black and white and walked away, but...ew...

No one even comments on my stuff over there...it's very discouraging. Anyway, yesterday while my connection and my roommate were warring over if I could get on the net or not, I was listening to my Win Media Player and started messing with the little Randomizations that you can watch, whatever they're called. There is one titled "My Tornado is Resting," and after watching it go around for an hour I decided to get artistic. I hopped into Photoshop and recreated a screen shot. The original that I made is the neon green/white one that you'll see later.

After tweeking with filters and other lovely Photoshop things, a friend told me I should draw another picture to put over the tornado thing because 'it looked magical.' It took forever and a day, but I came up with some line art for a couple role play characters over at Must Be Pop, though this is their furry side.

I was pleased with myself, but I thought that since what had put me in the slump in the first place was coloring, I decided to ditch the tornado thing and just go back and color the two wuffies. For my own clearification, the one one the left is Aaron Zilch, and the one on the right is Mitch Allan. This is the second time I've messed with Mitch, you can see the first one with Phoenix if you scan back in my posts. I think I like this version better, just because.

After finishing the awesome coloring job, there was only one thing left to do, and that was to put it back on my original tornado background that I'd done in the first place. All in all, this weeks 'Boredom Project' lasted about fourteen hours, but it's done and great all in time for 'Mitch's' 100th post and 4 month anniversery. Don't you love gift pics?

dazwolf @ 2003-08-28T01:36:00

2003-08-28T07:42:49Z

I am alive, really truly I am...I guess it just looks like I'm dead because I never tear enough time away from MBP to update my personal journal. Yes, I'm a slacker, I admit it.

I went home again, I've been doing that a lot lately. I've seen family, I've seen the family friends, and even made the mistake of getting drunk this last time. What can I say, Mum and Da sitting right there, and Da's friend the birthday boy thought it would be a grand idea. Yeah, I think we were all a bit fuzzy that night.

Monday night I got to go out with my best buddy to go hang out at the Shakespearian Festival. Yes, my home town is speacial, they're still gloating that we won a Tony three years ago for regional threater. Of course, the quality hasn't gone down at all. We went to see Much Ado About Nothing, and I don't think I've ever laughed so hard. I studdied the play for three years, so I know it well, and it was great seeing how it was done.

I got back later then I had planned and completely missed my first class of the Fall semester. I'm not going to talk any more about school, I'm not doing good in it, and things are looking bleak. I'm afraid that I'm bound to be stuck behind some greasy grill for the rest of my life because my talents are unnoticed by the greater population. My doomed life...

So, other than that, it's life as usual. Nothing ever changes, ya know?

dazwolf @ 2003-08-12T17:20:00

2003-08-12T23:38:49Z

almightyfroggie fired these up...here we go.

1) Have a hammer. Whaddya wanna do with it?

I'm going to kill a friend's computer. XP is an evil thing, and it keeps shutting them down in the middle of our RP sessions.

2) Where is Bin Laden hiding?

In the pits of hell where he belongs...Well, alright maybe not. I don't know. Our Intelligence Services have been rather vague, but I imagine I could find him if they wanted ;)

3) Dumbest thing you've ever done?

Ermmm....hmmm...Probably thinking I could actually be someone who I wasn't. I won't go into details because the ones that know about it now are the only ones that need to know. Yeah, I lied through my teeth and kept it up for years, but it eats at you after a while...

4) What item could you not live without? (Please don't say something ultra-sensible, like water, or air - it's too late for sane-ness)

Music...My world would mean absolutely nothing without it, and any of my friends can testify to that...

5) Say you could have the one thing you desire the most, but you can't tell anyone about it. Would you rather have it, or go without? (ooh! Thought-provoking at last!!)

I would rather have it. I can live in a world alone and be happy with no one else knowing anyway, I don't see why this would be any different. I know that sounds horrible, but I'm terribly anti-social. So is my life...heh.

Questions A-Go-Go...

2003-08-12T21:54:28Z

Anyone here to be interviewed?

1 -- Leave a comment, saying you want to be interviewed.
2 -- I will respond; I'll ask you five questions.
3 -- You'll update your journal with my five questions, and your five answers.
4 -- You'll include this explanation.
5 -- You'll ask other people five questions when they want to be interviewed.

Questions courtesy of ssgypsy

1. Why do the good girls always want the bad boys?

A very interesting question, and it may have just become clearer to me after having to think about it. It's common knowledge, at least to me, that you can't change a man, he got to do it on his own, and that means that most likely, the bad boys are going to stay bad. Perhaps it's some inner trigger that all the good girls wanna be bad too. Hell, if I wasn't so bad already, I'd go for that explaination...;D

2. Is love a catastrophe?

In the fondest sense of the word. I have never heard of the 'Perfect Relationship', and I'm convinced that it doesn't exsist. Since it's 'love' that leads up to these things, I seriously think that even if it's not a fleeting emotion, people just don't get along with it very well. I draw it down to people, because it is said that we are social creatures, and that's right up to a point. It's right up until the point where they figure out that we're animals too, and living with someone is a lot different from messing around. So yes, it is, and one hell of a mess at that.

3. Do you think freedom is just a state of mind?

Absolutely...I think of it in the way that we are all slaves by our own means. A man in a cubical for eight hours a day isn't free, he's bound by the laws and rules of the being that put him in the cubical. He could feel like a complete prisoner, but he would simply be told that he has his 'freedom.' Likewise, a convict could be locked up for life, worst treatment possible, but he could be free as a bird in his mind. It's all in the perception.

4. Are you someone who likes to give good advice?

I am when I'm asked for it. I've learned the hard way about chirping up where I don't belong, and it wasn't all that pleasent. Remember, never *think* that you know everything, because you never really do.

5. Is space travel in your opinion worth the while?

If we actually found something worthwhile, then maybe it would justify it all. I know they want to explore and learn, but has it actually done something usefull for the human race besides make us dream of living out there some day? The one reason I can come up for to make it all alright is the amount of jobs that researching, developement and building have created. I wouldn't be here now without it, because my father helps build the parts and mix the fuel that gets the rockets up there.

dazwolf @ 2003-07-31T07:45:00

2003-07-31T13:42:46Z

Stealing this from Linda...who stole it from someone, who probably stole it from someone and so on and so forth.

</p>"Let me be the one you call. If you jump I will break your fall"</p>You are a tortured soul, sad and lost in a world which is truly cruel and loveless in your eyes. Hang in there, there are blessed moments of silence and comfort that can come around, let yourself be loved and never forget to keep loving.</p>

Hah!

2003-07-31T13:17:03Z

I now have something to blame all the fictional deaths on! Yes, his name is Norritt, and he's evil...He just doesn't look it in this pic. He would be my evil muse if ever I had one, and now I think I can move on. I've been working on more promising things over the night ;)

Nothing For Now

2003-07-29T08:23:59Z

Alright, when I went home one of my friends dropped off an insert from the local paper down there that had one of our local bands on the cover. Even though it was just a little local thing, it was cool to see that they were actually getting somewhere. I'm going to type up the article since it really isn't that long. After many hours of searching around, I couldn't find any actual pictures put up, and I've already yelled at them to get their site finished, however I did find them on MP3.com which hosts three of their rereleased songs:

Nothing For Now @ MP3.com

And for those wondering, I went to school with them. I'm friends with the lead singer (Dan) and the drummer (Breyde), and used to hang out with them all the time. I was instudio with them during the recording of their original CD, 'Means To An End.' This is that good 'Indy Punk Rock' flavor that you just don't usually hear from out here.

By Elizabeth Miller

Moving towns and transitions in band members brought two brothers and two strangers together, resulting in Nothing For Now, a band breaking into the Southern Utah music scene with dreams of platunum record status.

Breyde Bentley and Colin Howells, both of Cedar City and brothers Jake Reed and Dan Reed of Ely, Nev., became the atypical "boy band" in the fall of 2001, forcusing on alternitive/punk music, not pop and hip hop.

Bentley and the Reeds said they have always been into making music. They feel a need to creat things, saying it's therapeutic. The guys work together to create music to meet the bands' creatice needs as well as their own.

"We just sold our 400th CD, so we are out of the red," Jake said. "It feels good."

The band's self-titled CD is available at Groovacious in Cedar City and Eden Music in St. George. E-mail requests for the CD can also be made by e-mailing the band at nothingfornow2002@yahoo.com.

The success and creation of the band has evolved, having first began with an argument.

"I met Breyde and went to his show, which was his band's (Kid Ikerus) last show," Dan said. "I said we should hook up and play."

Bentley was reluctant because he had played with a guy earlier in the week who he was also interested in starting a band with.

"I said, 'You have to meet my brother, he's the best guitar player,'" Dan said. After arguing about who Bentley should form a band with, the two came to a realization. "After a while, we realized we were talking about the same person (Jake)."

So the three got together.

The first night they practiced together, Howells heard them play and since his band had just broken up, he opted to join them.

The first time the group played together they were asked their name. Bentley said when they answered "Nothing for now," they meant they didn't have a name yet. That name, however, was announced and stuck.

Nothing For Now's alternative/punk music is full of energy and hope.

"Nothing For Now is really country music," Jake said with a smirk. "I think there is a lot of patriotism in the country right now and we're a country band that rocks out."

The personalities of the band members vary, but all their energy and goofiness contributes to the band's success. The house the brothers share is full of skateboards and wakeboards, couches and video games. These guys know their music, and how to host a good time.

"There is lots of energy at your shows...we want a positive vibe," Dan said. "There is blood at all our shows, but it's usually our own."

The guy's parents attend all the shows they can and the band even has some groupies.

"We played at Jodyn's Jamboree, a benefit show," Dan said. "We had $14,000 raised during our portion of the show. It was a good show and really fun."

A lot of adults didn't thing a "country band" could do that, Jake said.

While the group feels that they get a balance of males and females at their shows, they like the guys in the audience.

"It's hard to jump on a crowd of girls," Dan said.

While the members claimed different or no religious affiliations, many other influences contribute to their songs and lyrics such as authors and playwrights.

Home again...

2003-07-26T09:10:59Z

Here's the story of the week. Mom was brought up to Murray (a small town just South of Salt Lake) for back and neck surgery two days ago. I had known that she was having problems, but not that badly. I went to go see her Thursday morning to find that what started as a pinched nerve had actually been a shattered vertebrae in her lower neck. Eight pieces was what I was told that they put back together. My dad showed up a little bit later, minus the one person I thought would be begging to come up to see me, even if it was a side reason.

Dad didn't say anything about it, but I took off for the new apartment, and found my brother sitting outside my door out in the hallway. I think Dad should have said something, because I would have gone back sooner had I known. He told me that Dad had decided to leave me to watch my brother while he was taking Mom home later that afternoon, but he never said he was taking everyone back. Needless to say, Mom and Dad went home, and Randy was stuck trying to steal my bed because we had people already crashed out on the couches.

I had to bring him back home, so here I am again. It's good to see old friends and stuff again, but it wasn't that long ago that I was here last, like two weeks ago. One of them decided to take me out for a burger tonight, but my car had other ideas. After three hours, a new alternator, two new belts and $100, I was back on the road again with my Dad being totally pissed for the rest of the night. He said that it was just because of the car being old, but I know it messes with him. Oh well, wasn't me that made the stupid thing lock up and explode.

Alright, I'm starting to fall asleep, so I'm out of here. Hope things are going better for everyone else...;)

Typical...

2003-07-20T05:55:28Z

You are a dark writer. A fierce and loyal follower
of Poe and the other gothic authors, you LOVE
to instill a sense of revulsion and somewhat
fear in your readers. You love to poke their
brains with logic dealing with the darker side
of the human mind and character. Truly
surprising and a true individual, you'll do
ANYTHING to create a scene. :)

What's YOUR Writing Style?
brought to you by Quizilla

As if I didn't know that one already...hehe, no worries, it's all good! I'm about halfway moved in, counting all the junk that's in the car right now, but it's raining so I can't do anything about it at the moment. Two days to go and then I'm supposed to be totally done. I've got a surprise coming up shortly because I dusted off my laptop and decided to get back to work. Part 2 of Shadows Creeping is almost ready for posting!!!!

Another story...

2003-07-17T15:11:56Z

...And this one isn't nearly as dark as the last. Depending on how you look at it, this could be a lead in to 'Hard to Breathe,' though it really depends on what you got out of it. Short, no deaths, more observations though. Enjoy...

Title: The Boys of Summer
Disclaimer: I’m still in the habit of not saying any names, but the deal is the same. Don’t own them, don’t know them, don’t want it to happen. 'The Boys of Summer' belongs to Don Henley, though only the name is mentioned.
Summary: A mistake, a confession, and the beginning of a journey. (Possible pre to ‘Hard to Breathe’)
Pairing: Implied D/D
Genre: Angst
Rating: G (This is as mild as it gets folks ;) )
Chapters: 1/1

**

There is nothing quite as sobering as when you realize that there is absolutely no sound, no white noise, not even a whisper of breath through tired lungs. It’s like standing on the very edge of death and beyond, yet just looking in from the front window. Not even the constant steady pounding of blood running through veins couldn’t break through the depth. It’s the sensation of cotton stuffed inside your ears, and all you can do is claw at it and hope that you can dig it free.

I wasn’t the only one in the room though, and that made it even more unnerving. Your face was totally blank, your eyes carefully studying the wall across from you as you crouched in that old chair, cigarette in one hand while the other balanced hanging slightly off of your knee. The position was probably uncomfortable to you, but you didn’t look like you minded it at all.

You took a drag from the white cylinder, blowing the smoke away as the ash was flicked into the ceramic tray on the table. In times past you would have shaken it off and simply laughed at me for what I had let slip off of my tongue, but things were different, strained. Any other time you would have ignored me, but you had let me creep through that little crack that had developed over the years. I could have ripped you apart from the inside, but you wouldn’t have let me.

I watched a bead of sweat run down your chest, your shirt still hanging over the back of the chair from the night before. The temperature had been slowly rising from the week before, and we both had known that we had lost the tepid perfect days of late spring. It was my fault that it was more then just the air that had grown rather stale between us, but perhaps I was the only one who could see you changing.

It was my mistake for not seeing what was really in front of my face the entire time, but I will never forget how dead your eyes were when I told you, right before to refused to look at me again. I was forced to put up with only being presented with your profile, your mussed honey hair and tanned skin. I had been compelled, I had been stupid.

I had told you that it was over, I had to open my options, and that meant not having someone to depend on or to depend on me. You already knew that I wasn’t worth it for that anyway, but somehow we had made it work until then. My mind was on autopilot, zero emotion, even less thought. It wasn’t about truths, it was about desires and tainted views. Open options...that’s the nice way of saying I thought I didn’t want to be *attached* to anyone.

Watching your calm movements, fingers drifting slowly, I wanted to make some sound, something to break the air around us. Wanted to cut it to slivers with a hacksaw really, but in another way I didn’t want to disturb your demeanor. I had wondered for long moments if what I said had even filtered through your shell that you constantly hid behind, but I should have known better then to underestimate you. Your silence was because the cogs were whirring in your mind, greased so heavily that the gears slid constantly without friction. That was your perfect world, a well oiled machine that made no heat, caused no problems.

I had never envisioned a perfect world, a decent place where nothing ever went wrong and everyone was forever happy. We were pulled by different things though, you and your ideals, me and my blind ambition. I didn’t even know what I wanted half the time, but I would have gladly scrambled through the dark for it. Perhaps it was just another craving hiding deep within me that couldn’t stand what I already had. I could never have perfection, but I wasn’t going to settle for anything less.

I muttered more under my breath, knowing that you could hear me as if I was laying on your chest again. I blew away the dreams, the memories that had started the ride, what had driven us in the first place. I said more then I was supposed to, and yet still you sat there almost in defiance as I was cracking at my seams. I didn’t understand then, and I didn’t until much later, that’s just the way you always were. You were the strong one in your silence, you weren’t supposed to fall apart under the pressure, you weren’t allowed.

You stood and walked over to me, resting your hand on the table in front of me, your head dipping to meet my eyes as you ground out your cigarette, a small waif of smoke rising. You tapped your fingers for a moment, staring me down as I swallowed uneasily. Even I hadn’t realized how daunting you could be under certain circumstances.

“You’re right, it’s over and done. Check mate.”

You lifted the hand from the table, a stone carved chess piece sitting where your hand had been sitting. You had been holding it from the beginning, balanced on your fingertips as your hand had lain loosely across your knee. I wrapped my fingers around the warm stone, feeling the figure of the horse, its head held high. My eyes had drifted back up to yours slowly, my cover starting to waver. I asked what you had meant, what it all meant.

“The king doesn’t always win. Sometimes it is left up to the knight to charge back in, save the situation if you will. You can’t always put everything on the king, because even stone crumbles away under pressure.”

Your words were soft, nearly taunting, but I knew that’s not how you had meant them. You moved away again, pulling your shirt over your head as you walked to the door. You pushed your sunglasses to a better position on your nose before turning to me one last time.

“My love for you will still be strong, even after the boys of summer are gone...”

The door shut, and you were gone, gone until the next show, the next round. If only I’d seen....If only...

New Fic!

2003-07-15T13:11:06Z

Title: Hard To Breathe
Disclaimer: Since I don’t really mention names at all, I can’t say I own anyone. As for what is implied, it didn’t happen, I don’t want it to happen, and God forbid anyone take this seriously. No harm is intended. Song ‘Harder to Breathe’ belongs to the guys of Maroon 5. Story based loosely on song ‘My Bloody Valentine’ by Good Charlotte.
Summary: When the madness takes control, life takes on a new meaning.
Pairing: Implied D/D
Genre: Supreme Angst
Rating: R for one swear word, and murder.
Chapters: 1/1
WARNING: I cannot stress this enough. As some of you already know, I am very dark when it comes to writing much of my fiction, and this is no different. This is probably my most bitter, strongest piece I have ever done, however it does deal with murder and what effect jealousy can drive people to. Please, use common sense. I’m not out to save the world or anything, but I don’t want to get flamed for something you think you didn’t see coming.

****

They don’t understand the theory of a madman, one who has been to his last straps about everything in his life. No one ever really does, not until it’s too late anyway. No institutions, no menial services, no real reason behind anything unless there has to be. Erratic, unpredictable, unstable at the best of times. Good descriptions for the ones they know about. It’s the others that should be worried about, the ones that can hide what they are even though that glaze comes over their eyes like some rabid dog seeing it’s last meal.

I imagine I looked at you a lot that way, but I don’t know if you ever noticed. You were too wrapped up in what’s his name anyway. He had you strung up by every word he muttered under his breath, even if they were blindly stabbing at everything you desperately fought to keep. Interesting that the madman could see it even when you couldn’t. I said every whisper that laced across my tongue when I saw what he was doing. He took you from me, and my jealousy overrode everything else, everything but my madness, my insanity.

‘How dare you say that my behavior is unacceptable
So condescending unnecessarily critical
I have the tendency of getting very physical
So watch your step cause if I do you'll need a miracle...’

I don’t know if I forgot his name, or if I simply decided never to learn it in the first place. I know you saw it in my eyes when you draped yourself on his lap like some lazy cat on a hot summer day. You could blame it on the drink for what you were doing, one too many and everyone knew you would be laid out until the end of the week. Funny how no one else seemed to notice how possessive he was of you from the start. He was always there, with you like a shadow that was choking you, but you didn’t see it. You just glanced at me blankly like everyone else did, muttered about how crazy I was and how it wasn‘t my life to live. I didn’t want to live your life; I wanted to be a part of it.

You lashed at me nearly as bitterly as he did back stage when you chased him away so you could change. He hissed poison in my ears, bitter words of contempt born in fear of rejection. He wasn’t scared of me, he was scared of you leaving for *me.* Maybe he and I were walking the same line, fighting a war that wasn’t for us to decide a victor. No, that was your job, and you weren’t leaving his side, even when he fed off of you like a parasite. I watched your sapphire eyes grow steel and tired, filled with every lie you believed because it was his voice that said them. His voice that crept into your dreams like some silent fog, the calm before the storm. I wonder if you even knew it was coming, wonder if that would have changed anything.

Every day, that other side started to come forward, the side that you never knew about. What made me genius made me technically ill and beyond all salvation. They always say that it’s the quiet ones that need to be watched, to be wondered about, did anyone ever heed that? Made me doubly dangerous in a way, no one ever knew what was coming. I guess that’s why you were so critical, the both of you even. My patience was wearing thin, just as I’m sure his was with the fact that you would never willingly walk away from the music that held us together. Perhaps I was seeing things, but I could swear he was foaming at the mouth every morning.

‘You drain me dry and make me wonder why I'm even here
This Double Vision I was seeing is finally clear
You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone
Not fit to fucking tread the ground that I am walking on...’

I got on your wrong side one night, a livid fight that never really ended simply because he came in the way. He stepped into something that didn’t concern him, and he showed that he was starting to mean more to you in the band then I actually was. I bit my tongue hard, hard enough to taste the bitterness of my own blood, hoping that it could compare with the ice that you were shooting at me from every angle. Was I really that bad, or did you just crawl under all the complicated layers that covered what I really was? Whose soul did you see mirrored back when you had the ambition to look into my eyes again? What did you see staring you down into your private nothingness?

You were the miserable explanation of life, you and your hazardous snake that poisoned your veins like he did your thoughts and decisions. You were tainted so badly that no one near you could see clearly through the toxic waste oozing from every pore, spreading the virus in a descending cloud to everyone else. They were all deceived, fooled and conned into believing that he was what you always wanted, what you *needed* to make everything work the way that it was always supposed to. Fame was only worth enough for you to have and share with him, half-and-half with a demon that snarled curls of scorching flame while your back was turned. You walked over the casualties as if you didn’t see them, as if you couldn’t smell the burning flesh of the friends you used to always turn to. You never had to look for a number at 3am anymore, because he was in every breath you took. There was no use for that little black book anymore, and it went into the pit with everything else you used to hold dear.

You turned me away when I raised my voice; tried to open the shudders to a darkened room that you had long ago locked the door to. It was your mistake that I had been locked in that room, in your mind so thick in grime that you had literally drowned yourself in it. You had kept me in, you had remembered a semblance of something more pure and bright to fill the last space you had free, the last four walls that he hadn’t knocked down. Before I laid myself down to rest, I always prayed that those walls were your heart, but I knew deep inside that I could never have that with him still leaching from your soul.

‘When it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love
You'll understand what I mean when I say
There's no way we're going to give up
And like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams
Is there anyone out there cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe
Is there anyone out there cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe...’

I heard you scream, I heard it through my dreams as it drove and pierced my heart. You were in the next room, only the thin wall separating my room from yours, and I heard you screaming endlessly for him. It drilled into the very center of my mind, burned there for an eternity as a reminder of what I had not changed, what I had not stopped from happening. He didn’t deserve to have you, didn’t deserve to light the torch under your tender emotions, didn’t deserve to sleep in your bed with his thoughts of domination tripping in silence.

I caught his gaze the next morning, my eyes glowing eerily as he walked by me, his form daring me to make a move, any sign because he *knew* what was on the tip of my tongue. He hung over me like a morning haze, his entire being invading my presence like an unavoidable plague. He force-fed his tales of conquest down with my breakfast, leaving a stale metallic taste lingering long after. As his venom slid across the table, locked away in my little room I dreamt of my hands ending what he had started, ripping the breath from his lungs as his chest grew heavy from pressure and pain. I imagined making him suffer for every breath he had taken since making his first move into a situation he had no baring in. I envisioned him falling at my feet, never to infect another innocent mind again.

‘What you are doing is screwing things up inside my head
You should know better you never listened to a word I said
Clutching your pillow and writhing in a naked sweat
Hoping somebody someday will do you like I did...’

You said I was scaring you the way I had grown so dark, not the man you once remembered loving in memories passed that had no chance of ever surviving in your new found environment. I had wondered myself why you even bothered remembering when you supposedly had everything you ever asked for in *him.* I wasn’t your lover, your brother, your partner, your friend. I was only a fading dream that something was struggling to push away, perhaps lock it up with me in the solitary room I still had within you.

He couldn’t save you from the dreams that haunted you whenever you closed your eyes, your guilty conscience coming back to lash at you in ways that I never could. He wasn’t the one you held when you were ripped from your sleep back into wake, the cold sweat staining the sheets you slept on every night. You were bathed in it, marinated in everything that it stood for in your mind, even in the parts that you couldn’t willfully bring back. He’d wake up in the morning and wonder why you clutched your pillow so tightly, why it was never him you latched to in the darkness of night. And just like your screams inside my head, he could never cool the burn that your helpless whimpers left within him. Even he wasn’t allowed to know what was cracking you, even when I could see it more clearly then anything else.

My words echoed in quiet rooms, a foreboding presence that left no one in peace. Everyone had told me that I was lost from my sanity, driven away by my own lust for things that would never be mine again. You started to see it though; the lost words that were coming back tenfold with your own vengeance breathing new life and new meanings into old observations. You finally understood when you cornered me in my room after too many nights waking up scared of your own past, afraid of what had possessed you for so long. You saw it in my eyes, and suddenly the lock was beginning to rust away.

‘When it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love
You'll understand what I mean when I say
There's no way we're going to give up
And like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams
Is there anyone out there cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe
Is there anyone out there cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe...’

He was furious, his grip threateningly tight on the both of us when he found you with me, as if his shackles that had chained you to him were mysteriously disappearing. It was as if my lungs were filled with an ancient smoke that was slowly stealing my breath as he loomed over me, his hatred clawing away at the only defenses I had left to me. As he stood there trying to spread his deadly whip around me, my mind plotted it’s revenge, one that would seal the fates and end the pain inflicted on everyone, and offer freedom which had been held an inch away from everyone.

I spat his own hideous threats back at him, his promises of a tortured end, his visions of the strong standing tall while the weak would fall back into the pit with everything else. I hissed them back as a promise to myself that I would see the final act be done, the final battle won, and my madness made me believe that every word muttered was worth more then life itself. I would make his monsters seethe, I would make his blood boil until he ended it himself, but there was more then that. I turned his own poison against him, made his eyes glow dim in the harsh lights before he stormed away.

I stayed awake at night for my own personal pleasure of hearing him writhing against his own dreams, the monsters finally turning against him, chasing him into his own personal hell. I know you could hear it as well, even though you pretended to sleep. You knew he was seeing me every time he turned, with every step he took. I warned him the first time we had a confrontation, I would never give up, the sickness wouldn’t let me.

‘Does it kill
Does it burn
Is it painful to learn
That it's me that has all the control...’

You were the one that had told me, made me aware that he looked for his solace in the storm, in the rain and thunder coming down around him. He was trying to drown in the squall what he couldn’t calm in his own mind. He wasn’t like you, couldn’t swamp away everything in feet deep piles of murk. He needed physical redemption, and that’s where I found him totally alone and ready for his forgiveness, something I was not willing to give.

I had never told you what I had actually planned, what I had played out a thousand times since that morning. As long as he was still living, he would have a grip on you, and that was something that I could not deal with, would not deal with. You had tried to stop me on my way out, you had seen that look in my eyes, but you weren’t enough to stand in my way. No one would have ever stopped me.

With the sharp headlong winds whipping the rain into a frenzy, he never knew what was coming, never knew that his suffering had only begun for what he had done. I had made a great device, perfect in what my minds eye saw as the best way to deliver his punishment, my way to rip his breath away and make his lungs burn. I wonder if the cleaning staff ever noticed the bottle of cleaning bleach missing from the cart that was left out in the hall on the forth floor...

‘Does it thrill
Does it sting
When you feel what I bring
And you wish that you had me to hold...’

I was sitting on his chest, his arms penned down by my knees at his sides the first and last time he saw the bottle of bleach. Of course it had changed considerably since I had stolen it from the cart, but a simple quick death was not something he was deserving of.

The bottle was attached to a modified gas mask, something I made all on my own for the occasion. Instead of keeping gases and other substances out, it would only let them in. His fight against me was futile when I slipped the mask over his face and secured it in place. As I looked down into his eyes in that moment before I opened the bottle, there was nothing there but the blank realization of what was to become of him and his vicious ways. There was no more fear there, his worst dreams had already come true, and his salvation was nowhere in sight.

As the bleach flooded through the mask, he thrashed against me, struggling to take and hold one last breath. The liquid began to burn and eat away at his flesh, his eyes going wide as he tried to scream. The air quickly escaped as more of the bleach took its place, slowly flowing down his throat and into his lungs. I sat watching; emotionless as he struggled his last moments away, the wind calming to no more then a slight breeze as the rain soaked my clothing, ran through my hair. The thunder rumbled above me as the last strike delivered against him.

‘When it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love
You'll understand what I mean when I say
There's no way we're going to give up
And like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams
Is there anyone out there cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe
Is there anyone out there cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe...’

You understood, at least you told them that you did. You wouldn’t let them take me even though everyone knew what had happened, what the genius, what the madman had done. They all see it more clearly now that he’s gone, now that the virus has been stomped out. You believe in me, in a small fragmented way. You finally see what truths I had warned you of so heatedly.

No, there are no institutions; none that you would have me sent to, so I still sit in a locked room though this one isn’t filled with swampy filth. This room is nice, nice enough for someone to find their sanity again...Nice enough to hold the breath of a new life and a new day...

‘Is there anyone out there cause it’s getting harder and harder to breathe...’

Only in my mind

2003-07-13T09:07:59Z

I've come to the conclusion that these aren't drawings, they aren't doodles, and they are certainly somewhere beyond normality. Someone is feeling a lot of strife in a storyline right now because their significant other is out of the story for another two weeks. This is the usual 'pat on the back, everything will be alright' picture that I haven't been able to get out in quite a while. Messing with my style again, it is a challenge to make non-humans look like actual people. I lost track of how long I spent on this, but it was every moment I could spare all day long. I like how it turned out though :D.

I've gone deaf...

2003-07-12T06:32:25Z

I just got back from a little club/music shop in downtown Provo, and I can hear a thing. Went down to see a few 'local' bands play, with Vadict headlining. Don't feel bad if you don't know who they are, not many people do. It was cool, got to hang backstage with the guys, listened to a couple failed attempts at new songs, and just generally rocked out. They were giving me funny looks when I showed up because I'm walking the fine line between looking rock or looking punk, and all of these were metal bands. Then some guy from my home town showed up with a video camera for a DVD one of the bands is working on, and went "Oh, I remember you from Power 91!" Once they figured out I was a DJ, everything was cool. I could probably go on about them until I'm blue in the face, but I won't. I know you people don't want me to ramble on too long. ;D Oh yeah, I get to move into the *remodeled* apartments this coming Wednesday, so that should be cool!

Rawk! hehe

dazwolf @ 2003-07-11T03:39:00

2003-07-11T09:36:12Z

I am a A Greater Red Dragon!

Hey, I took the http://dragonhame.com online Inner Dragon quiz and found out I am a Greater Red Dragon on the inside.

In the war between good and evil, your inner Dragon self is rotten with the stench of EVIL....
When it comes to the powers of Chaos vs. those of Law and Order, your inner dragon is a risk taker and answers to no one....
As far as magical tendancies, Magical spells come as natural to the Greater Red Dragon as breathe from it's body....
During combat situations, the Greater Red Dragon shows a preference for the rending and slashing of Hand to Hand combat....
The Greater Red Dragon is truly a beast of Legend, it's blood red scales ad evil temperament have struck fear into the hearts of man since the dawn of mankind. This Dragon is viscous, powerful, and violent.'
The Red Dragon usually makes it's home in mountainous regions, preferably close to mortal settlements where it can perform it's favorite hobbies, i.e. pillaging and plundering.'
The Red Dragon's diet consists mainly of sheep, cows, and their respectable owners, but it's favorite food is a pretty young maiden. Often the dragon will trade it's "protection" in return a certain number of maidens derived to it's doorstep every year. It should be noted that a Red Dragon makes this trade not because it cannot acquire maidens by it's own power, rather simply because it enjoys this delivery service.
'
This Dragons favorite elements are: Brimstone, Fire, and Fear

http://Dragonhame.Com

Whatever...

2003-07-09T06:48:19Z

Find your Role-Playing
Stereotype at mutedfaith.com.
[Angel.]

Not much to really update about. It's all life as usual unfortunitly. Can't seem to get away from it...*rolls eyes*

ROCK!

2003-07-01T11:33:53Z

I've been majorly lacking in my large sketches lately, but that will be solved shortly. On the other hand, I just finished my newist computer 'doodle.' I don't know why I call them doodles, they end up being a heck of a lot more then that...

If you're wondering who or what the heck it is...There was a comic that came out in 1993 called The Maxx, and two years later MTV picked it up as a short animated series. It's basically the idea that people exist in two 'planes', reality, and what they call Pangea. The Maxx is basically the thing that protects you in Pangea, like a spirit protector. This one is constantly scared of what is under his mask because he's managed to make it into Reality and nothing is the same. Hehe, he's a rather demented rabbit under all the spandex...;D

New ICON!

2003-06-24T23:52:12Z

*Laughs madly* Alright, so I saw this awsome pic that somebody made...It was a lot bigger then icon size, but I had to do a verson for myself because it was too cool. I admit, there is a lot of *blue* in the pic, but that makes it cool! Love my wolfiness...

Evilness...

2003-06-20T09:05:04Z

Mitch Allan posted my latest 'doodle' in his journal. He says he's been watching me. I'm scared.

Why Mitch is Evil...