Nature is Scary

                So I considered doing a Secret part 3 today, but then I reconsidered. I’ll redo the ending so that it’s not so abrupt and hurried someday, but not today. Also, I think that after today I’ll stop blogging so regularly. And stop feeling the need to post photos all the time. Only when I feel like it. sometimes, I feel like I’m just posting one because I said I would.

                I learned today that actually quite a few people read my posts. Hurray, kind of. If you don’t like the way I blog, then stop. Seriously. I write so that I am amused. It’d be nice if you were amused too (and when I say “it’d be nice”, I mean be amused/interested or go away). So go away all you unwanted readers. *Annoyed* Anyways.

                Today, I seriously don’t feel like blogging. I’ll write a random story for you.

***

(See, I’m so bored that I don’t even use awesome divider things. Also, I have zero idea what I am going to say or where I am going with this, but whatever, I’ll go with what comes to me)

                Once upon a time, there was a young maiden with flowing green locks and wide orange eyes. She lived deep in the woods, yet had an absolute fear of all things natural. She managed to collect enough scrap metal to build a shiny house that was a barrier between her and the evil, evil nature. She would stare in constant fear out of the little slits in her small house, and tremble whenever a squirrel scurried by. She lived in a state of paranoia, refusing to eat natural substances, but instead getting sustenance from this magical bin in which food appeared randomly. She had no idea where the food came from or why, but the process was completely unnatural so she did not care. She tossed her food scraps out through a small and reinforced window she had in her one-room home, making sure to make sure there were no natural things like weather or atmosphere that could come through. She did so quickly and with a skittishness that bordered on hysteria. Unlock, open, toss, slam, CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK. Locks were her best friend. They helped her against this nature thing.

                One day, she went through the motions of slowly creeping toward her garbage-tossing window. She shifted her eyes right and left, and looked for any signs of nature that might attack her the second she opened the hole in the wall. She swiftly slid the various locks open with her trembling pale fingers. As soon as she opened the door-thing, she saw horror of all horrors: a chipmunk. It chattered at her, and she screamed with the intensity of a nuclear explosion. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed that a nice fifty foot circle from her window had been completely charred and desolate, and that the horrid furry thing had been reduced to a pile of ashes. She breathed a sigh of relief at the close call, and dumped the trash outside the window. Without a second thought, she locked all the locks, and continued with her everyday, comfortably unnatural life.

***

                What on earth was that. I’m crazy. Also, this is the last post of November, I believe. And a picture! I promise after this one, there will only be a picture if it’s relevant. Or I feel like posting one. Or maybe I’ll just keep posting them because I will feel a secret pressure to. Shut up, you.

Secret, Part 2

                I decided to rewrite my Secret post, because now I have something to base it off of. I decided that I would write a muse and base it off of Big Bang’s Coffee Prince parody, and pretend that GD actually is a girl. I mean, he’s supposed to be anyways. Also, just to let you know what I’m looking at right now: pictures of Sungmin and his epic pinkness. It’s really adorable. Him meowing at the kitty ♥ awwww ♥ Anyways, back to writing fiction…

♥♥♥

                She surveyed herself critically in the mirror, and daintily turned in a full circle, seeing how her body fit into the new clothes. She had just cropped her long brown locks into a boy-cut, and had gotten masculine clothes to match. I look good! She stuck her tongue out and winked at her reflection in the mirror, but quickly chastised herself. Boys do not behave like that! She scolded herself mentally. Sighing, she focused on presenting herself as more masculine. She drew up her hood, and stuffed her hands inside her pockets. She tried to walk with a swagger, but only succeeded in making herself crack up. I look so dumb, she thought. Oh, for the sake of love! She was going to ask for a job today from that popular coffee shop with the gorgeous manager. Those strong cheekbones, that flawless skin! The shop only hired flower boys, and definitely wouldn’t let a girl into their staff. They would lose their popularity with the female crowd. She raised her nose into the air, and gave a haughty look worthy of an idol. Bracing herself for battle, she swaggered out the door, practicing her man-walk.

                She timidly entered the shop, worried that they might see right through her ruse. Idols and flower boys do not behave like that, she reprimanded herself as she straightened up. She walked with what she believed was a confident and masculine walk, although what really turned out to be an awkward, hip-swaying strut. “I’d like to apply for a job,” she asked, trying to deepen her voice as possible, staring deep into those dark eyes of the manager.

                As if a blessing in disguise, she was suddenly accosted by the two other waiters. “Aww, he’s so cute! Hire him!” They cooed and they pinched his cheek. No, no, no! Only he can touch me in such a familiar manner! Her heart cried out, but she stood with a stoic expression, staring at the manager. With a glint of amusement, he asked, “You look like such a weak boy. But we need someone for the talent section. Can you dance?”

Quickly, she began dancing in a “manly” fashion that included the wild flailing of limbs. She struck a pose, and gave him a cheeky smile. “What do you think?

With an amused light in his eyes and a suppressed smile, he said, “Sure. You start right now.”

♥♥♥

I actually really liked it this time! And picture of Sungmin today, because I wrote about GD and T.O.P, and really Big Bang, too.

Secret

Now starts the second half of the rest of this blog’s life. Just kidding. I have no idea or any intention when this blog is going to end, but it seems unlikely at this stage that it will be ended within the next 50 posts.

                Well, I suppose I should write a character sketch, or a muse, or something that has to do with creative writing. After all, for the past few posts, I’ve just been talking about my life, and really, this is still a writing fiction blog until the class is over. Maybe I’ll do a character sketch. Easiest.

⃝⃝⃝

                Her hair was cropped short, like a boy’s, as she wore loose clothing that hid her figure. Her hands were stuffed into her pockets, and she walked with a masculine swagger. She tilted her head up to survey people with a look of indifference; acting the aloof idol everyone had painted her. When she saw a few younger girls giggling and trying to catch her attention, she flashed them that dazzling smile, and consequently watched the burst into fits of girlish happiness. She sighed internally. She hated her role. What she wouldn’t give to just be a normal girl, who could laugh as they did, who had friends that were girls, who could actually be girls on the outside…

Her eyes lit up as she caught sight of her friends walking toward the track. She almost raised her hand and waved at them in delight, but caught herself – instead, she sauntered over to them, quickly, and clapped her hand against her best friend’s back, in a properly masculine way. Her mouth curled up into a silly smile, far too wide for the idol appearance, but she couldn’t help it. He just made her so happy, always. She couldn’t ever let him know that. Not with what she was pretending to be.

The boys gathered around her, and they began chatting about their usual useless things. She glanced one last furtive glance at that boy, and turned her full attentions to her role.

⃝⃝⃝

Okay, wow, I think I just didn’t want to write. It’s okay, I fulfilled my post for the day. I could fix it to make it less choppy, but at this point I don’t really want to. Picture for the day:

Fair Maiden

I’m kind of confused by the search keywords that people use to find my blog. I’m not exactly sure how it works, because the keywords that are used are words or phrases that aren’t actually in my blog. Of course, there’s the obligatory “the ink from my fingertips” and “invisiblepinkink”, but there’s also ones like “and then moved onto green” and “was the fair maiden”, along with other random fragments of sentences. What? “Was the fair maiden”? I have never talked about that. That doesn’t even make sense, it’s not even a full sentence. I don’t think I’ve even had the word “maiden” in any of my posts. Maybe I’ll write a generic sketch about this “fair maiden” who pines for her prince charming. Or pines for the open “green” plains. I don’t know what I’m talking about.

ღ ღ ღ

                “Fair” is what the world called her, “deathly pale” is what she regarded herself as. Really, she got little to no sunlight; the world was trying to preserve her most “delicate and fragile beauty.” They didn’t want their most “treasured and lovely princess” to be out in the oh-so-dangerous world. She wrinkled her nose. Yeah right, “fair and delicate”. It was more like they’re trying to keep her locked up. It’s not like she was made of paper. She was as healthy and strong as any other girl, and she wanted nothing more than to run outside and feel the sun on her skin, the wind in her hair, the soft earth beneath her bare feet! But no, that would be “unrefined.” So what if she trips and falls? It’s not like bruises don’t heal, it’s not like a grass stain can’t be washed out. She was nobility – really, she could just buy a new dress. She pouted, shaping her pink lips into a cute moue. She’d tried everything – asking, begging, pleading, using her authority, using her feminine wiles, running away, sneaking out – and nothing worked. She was always at the center of attention; even if she tried she couldn’t become unnoticed. She flopped onto a chair in a highly ungraceful and unsophisticated manner, causing her nurse to frown at the pretty girl from the rocking chair she was sitting at. Like the sulking child she was, the girl stuck out her tongue at the woman, and turned to the window. Huffing an indignant and annoyed breath, she continued to sulk at the landscape, wanting nothing more than to join the glorious beauty outside.

ღ ღ ღ

                There we go. Fair maiden, all wrapped up in a post. I feel like this is a teenager full of rebellion and whatever. Silliness!

                Oh, and because I said I would, I will mention yet another blog: he is wonderful! I love his writing, it’s very well done. I’m surprised that the people who speak the least in real life are actually fabulous at expressing themselves in writing. The irony.

                Okay, and just to continue with my picture trend – here is a picture of GD with his puppy. It’s quite adorable… but the puppy is kind of wrinkled and looks strange… Oh well. It’s still adorable and they are both peacefully asleep.

Snowstorm

A muse – in contrast to my sketch about GD/T.O.P with the exuberantly excited little brother. You inspired me – you know who you are.

☂☂☂

The wind was howling and the snow falling down in large, icy flakes. A pair of siblings, one much older than the other, stood outside watching the landscape of the once-green meadows become white and frozen.

A little girl bundled in a big, puffy jacket and jeans stood quietly next to her big brother. Her sleek dark hair was tied loosely and a bit messily into two pigtails, and she wore a solemn expression. Quietly and without fanfare, she gently tugged on her brother’s sleeve with little black-gloved hands. She glanced at him with intense, soulful eyes as dark as the midnight sky with a seeming wisdom and depth beyond her years. She did not smile, nor did she convey unhappiness. Contentment was to be expressed within her heart, and she did not feel like shining them through her features. The mysterious eyes held the spark of intelligence, yet did not sparkle with the uncontained excitement of naïveté and immaturity. They were demure, and she, at a young age, understood that her life was going to go exactly at the pace she wanted: slow and steady, like a languid river coursing on a hot summer’s day.

                Her brother looked down at the girl. He saw so much of himself in her – the same dark brown eyes, the same high cheekbones, the same shining and flowing hair, the same thoughtful and calm expression that graced their features. He looked back at that small face of his little sister with the same mystery, surveying her and gauging her emotions. Such an odd picture they made, the brother towering with broad shoulders and magnificent height like a gentle giant, and the little girl barely up to his waist like a little fairy, both sharing a deep connection and telepathic understanding. He nodded, understanding, and they walked hand in hand toward the warm glow of the visitor’s center.

☂☂☂

                Okay, I wrote something! And it was decently long. THEREFORE, I SHOULD BE REWARDED WITH BEING ABLE TO POST A PICTURE J. *absolute happiness and bliss and everything wonderful* I was going to post a picture of T.O.P, but I feel like posting this picture today. I like giant stuffed animals ♥

Love ♥ (and angst)

I have homework to do, but I’m contemplating if I want to blog about GD more. And I’m being the opposite of productive, so in the end, I just decided to blog. And instead of just blogging about GD or T.O.P, I decided to change it up a little. I finally, finally went and read GenreWhiplash’s and BlenderLid’s blogs. Well, lies. I went and read BlenderLid’s post about Quinn Marksley, but that was a long time ago. And I went to see GenreWhiplash’s random posts about music, but I definitely don’t share his tastes in music. And I didn’t find it incredibly interesting. Sorries. Oh, and 3D's. That one's just fantastic. And I'm definitely an Energizer Bunny.

                I’m desperately trying to avoid talking about GD more. He’s so cute with his hair spiked. And dyed. Really, I think I liked dyed hair, and the look of being blown free by the wind (and not super short or tied into poodle like twists. That might’ve been the worst hairstyle I have ever seen.) He’s so adorable when he gives that cheeky smile of his. It’s like he embodies the innocence of youth, and he shines with a naiveté that can only be described as blissful happiness. The black jacket really suits him… Okay, I have officially given up. I promise that I’ll write quality posts one day. But not today.

                FINE. MAKE ME FEEL BAD. I’ll write a character sketch for you. BECAUSE YOU’RE A TERRIBLE READER THAT MAKES ME FEEL BAD. Just kidding. I love you.

₰₰₰

                He stood, tall and broad shouldered, with the majestic grace of an eagle. His generally tanned skin appeared pale and white under the moonlit sky. His eyes were as cold as the black depths of the lake he was surveying, and betrayed no emotion besides intense hatred. The stars cast a soft glow on his harsh expression, revealing an aged expression that betrayed the hard life he had been through. His brows furrowed, and he glared out at the serene landscape. He hated her, he simply hated her! He hated her for everything she is and was to him, his support that crumbled, the woman that left him shattered and restless. “A man that every woman desired.” Ha! If only they could see him now, a sulking and sorry excuse of the heroic and godlike figure he embodied during the daytime. An owl softly hooted and crikets chirped. The calm nightscape contrasted the burning turmoil he felt within. He wanted to scream, scream with every drop of rage, betrayal, and sadness that inundated and suffocated his heart. He felt weak, as if his life had been taken out of his control. With a single last severe glance over the cold and inky black waters, he spun on his heel, and stormed away into the dark.

₰₰₰

                That was so depressing. I’m going to post lots of adorable pictures now, because I actually wrote something. I mitigated my own guilt.





I like him with dyed hair. I honestly do. Most people hate blonde Asians, but I think GD’s like the only person who pulls it off well – I think it gives him an ethereal beauty… like a spirit, instead of a human.





This might be the absolute most adorable picture I have ever seen in my life. He seems so earnest, so truly amazed J





 Also, I'm not sure why I insist on citing my sources. I got the pictures from the internet. I put on the captions, but it absolutely destroyed the formatting and flow of the post, so now they're gone. It's a blog. And the captions looks so unsightly. I'll figure it out later. ♥
I'm happiness. And I love you! ♥ ♥ ♥

Lollipops

I think I adore the two of them. Sorry, readers, you're just going to have to put up with my obsession. It portrays them well - GD's the childish one, and TOP is the serious one. Not that they're not both weird... But it's so hilarious. And absolutely adorable!

http://www.crunchyroll.com/group/TOP_and_Gdragon/photos/4303292900

http://www.crunchyroll.com/group/TOP_and_Gdragon/photos/4303292898

Okay, fine, I feel bad. I'll write a short character sketch/situation…. Wait! This is a muse. Inspired by the above pictures (and the one with GD perched on top of TOP). With lots of my own imagination.  

♥ ♥ ♥

                “I want the lollipop!” his little brother cried, eyeing the swirled candy. Dressed in a purple sweater to protect him from the cold, the younger of the two emanated a vibrancy that can only be described as anticipation and unbridled excitement for the sugary treat. “Can I have it? Can I have it please?” His brown eyes shined with absolute desire for nothing else in the world, and he bounced up and down in place.

                The older one, dressed in odd pink cardigan paired with a polka dotted button up shirt, sighed. Despite his stern and intimidating countenance, he had a soft spot for his little brother. Why else would he go out in an outfit that caused him to be looked at like he was insane? It’s not like he chose it. No, his little brother wanted to “match”. “Purple matches pink,” the child insisted with an innocent earnestness. And obviously, the aqua bow tie and giant watch matched too. He really couldn’t say no. Not when his little brother gave him that puppy eyed stare. “The candy’s going to rot your beautiful pearly whites,” he countered.

                “But, but…” The younger one stared up with sad eyes. “I promise that I’ll brush my teeth the second we get home! Really, I promise!” He gave his polka dotted brother a cheeky grin. He loved his big brother – he was protective and kind, and gave him everything he wanted! He couldn’t ask for more.

                A severe face glanced down at the little boy warily. He’s starting to realize his own power over me, isn’t he… He once again sighed, realizing his own predicament. “Okay, okay, but just this time. And you definitely have to brush when we get home.” He had lost this battle, just like every one that came before it and every one that will come later.

                “Yaaaay!” Licking a lollipop the size of his head, he took his big brother’s hand, and they strolled off. “I love you big brother,” he added, with a smile that contained the sparkle of youth.

                The older one gave his brother a rare smile, and ruffled his hair. “I know, but don’t think that’s going to get you out of brushing your teeth when we get home…”

Phone Background

               So guess what? My phone’s background is now a picture of TOP. J It makes me happy whenever I open my phone, and then I’m greeted by this sexy picture. It's from the last scene of his music video "Turn It Up".

                His expression is very sure, and his lips are pursed into a self confident smirk. His arms are stretched out to lean on both armrests, and his entire body is relaxed. His eyebrows are raised in a seductive manner, and he glances out of the picture with a powerful aura, like a lion surveying his pride. His hair is a tousled style, like he just ran his hands through it. It’s styled, yet incredibly carefree and as if unplanned. His high cheekbones give his face an incredible grace, and the white suit finished off the look with elegance. Everything about him screams with a sensual masculinity. I’m hot, and I know you think so too.

                Okay, I got really bored writing this. I’d rather just stare at the picture. And that was horridly written. I’m going to pretend it doesn’t exist. I started writing it, and then I gave up. And I watched an episode of Glee. And then random funny vids. So it doesn’t really have a sense of flow, and it’s really short… And really, I’m amused that I’m attracted to that self confidence smirk of an expression. I should be annoyed. But instead, it’s just really attractive.

Exaggeration in Tranquility

                 He sits, hunched over, with an aura of insecurity. His brown hair flops down like a mop, ending just a bit below his forehead. The vague curls that intermingle with straight locks don’t align themselves; they rebel as if forcing him to be just a little less put together than he already is. A look of serious boredom paints itself across his angular face. His jaw, square, defines itself in a sharp angle that draws the edge of his face in a strong and secure border, contrasting his demeanor. His lips are not pressed firmly or thinly, but loosely settled in a single line; they show neither happiness nor sadness – like an empty abyss, they remain void.  Pale skin is graced with high cheekbones and a protruding nose – it has a single bump marking half of his heritage, his eyes marking the other. Glassy and dull, deep pools of coffee stare lifelessly forward into empty space. His arms cross gently, allowing the baggy sweatshirt to droop down; his legs bent uncomfortably, too long for the small chair he’s resting in. His entire body screams with an insecurity, as he unconsciously tries to shrink his physical body down to patch of space his psyche perceives as safe to occupy. Conscious, his brain rambles wildly, yet it is never expressed by a single movement, a single twitch of a muscle, a single gleam of his dark eyes.

                Unexpectedly, he is jostled from his reverie. Quiet, yet far more rambunctious, a companion disturbs his peaceful monotony, and he smiles. Glass sparkles as an adorable countenance spreads across the void face. The eyes narrow and crinkle with a quiet and reserved laughter. His shoulders hunch as he ducks his head; even in mirth he subconsciously feels uncomfortable in his skin. He shakes with a pure and lighthearted emotion, his mouth how a toothy grin full of warmth and kindness. He pushes back in mock indignation. Complacency replaces his boredom, as he settles into a conversation of little words. His expression returns to default, emotionless, but now, his eyes glitter with hidden mirth and wisdom.

                Normality ensues.  

A/N: I have no idea what's wrong with me. I don't think this even describes him very well. It's like I started with a description of him, decided it was too boring, and went crazy with details. And bad sentence structure. Also, the title has basically nothing to do with anything. I'm tired and most likely insane. One day, I would like to stop being insane. Hopefully, this day will come soon.

Assigned Blog Post #3: Rose Emily Sketch and Meeting

Rose Emily is a fair girl of European descent, slight build with cascading blonde waves. She didn’t actually have a surname; Rose Emily was just the name that the opera mistress gave her when they took her in as a baby. From a young age, she knew that she was different. She not only didn’t have parents, but she also had the whitest and palest skin with the most shocking sapphire eyes. Those who she passed along the streets, lived with in her dorm, all around her had tan skin, brown eyes, and long black hair as straight as death. She was the fair maiden among a sea of dreary monotone, of people who kept their heads down and bobbled along the dirt roads, among those who hawked their merchandise with loud voices meshing like a cacophonous symphony, among those who were stuck in their own rut so deeply they walked along the same path, at the same pace, at the same time each and every day.

                She wore the simple white traditional Chinese dress that the mistress owned when she was younger. It was made of a durable but lightweight cotton, with short sleeves and a hem that stopped right as her knees. The pure white fabric was lined by an aqua trim, harmonizing with the blue pools of expression. Her hair was slightly tied to keep away from her face, but most of it left to tumble down her shoulders and her back, vibrant and lively. Her voice was pure and light, but not skilled. She sang with obligation, allowing her voice to take flight like perhaps a bird with a previously broken wing – she understood she was no swallow in the springtime. Finding that she had no talent in singing, the owner taught her acrobatics, so that she could perform the more physical roles and make herself useful. Mild and slight, she was often bullied by the other girls for her beauty; but she still she stood with her back straight, just her head tilted toward the ground.

                When she became older, she was caught the eye of a wealthy European man who had been living in China for only a few years. She was married off to him for a hefty sum for the opera mistress, as the man’s concubine. She lived in moderate wealth and comfort, but under the ever-resentful watch of the first wife. When the family of three moved back to Europe, she became a yoga instructor to keep her busy during the boring days, rather than trying to stay out of the way of the jealous wife that was slowly losing her beauty every day. The small reprieves from her harsh and envious glares were like heaven to Rose.

Meeting with S-‘s Character, Amelia Boneheart:        

One day, she was granted a day off from the mistress; apparently some wealthy man had just booked the entire theatre for him and his entourage, a lucrative opportunity. With such profits tucked neatly away in her silk drawstring bag, her tongue sweetened and she treated her girls with much more kindness.

                 Donning a pair of cloth shoes, she lightly skipped out onto the busy and dusty road. She wandered, drawing open stares wherever she went. “Who is she?” “She looks like some kind of ghost, with that pale skin.” Whispers echoed around her. “Can she speak English?” “It looks like she’s good for nothing, with that slight build of hers.” As if she couldn’t understand them. Just because she looked different didn’t mean that she was deaf or blind – even the most foreign of foreigners could see the distrust in those people’s eyes and the harshness of their whispers.  

                Feeling annoyed and slightly disappointed that her day out had been rather ruined, she almost walked into this giant wall. Wall? No, it was just someone really, really tall.

                “对不起，先生,” she said, bowing low without looking at the face of the person.  (A/N: it says, “I’m sorry, sir”)

                “Well, sorry little miss,” she heard above her in a foreign language, “I almost ran you over.”

                Hearing the deep yet distinctly feminine voice, her head snapped up in confusion. She looked fearfully at the gargantuan woman, with bulging biceps and a mass of curly red hair badly tamed into a ponytail. Even her brown eyes seemed fierce as her smile reminded Rose of the smiles of wolves before they ingested their prey. Standing like a deer caught in headlights, she furiously shook her head signifying that she didn’t understand the huge woman.

                “Ah, ni bu dong ying wen?” (A/N: Ah, you don’t understand English?) The woman slowly tried to twist her tongue around the foreign words, succeeding in very little besides butchering them. “Mei guan xi. Wo de ming zi shi Amelia. Amelia Boneheart.” (A/N: No problem. My name is Amelia. Amelia Boneheart.)

                A glimmer of a sparkle gave way in Rose Emily’s eyes before she burst out into a little giggles that shook her frail frame. “对不起,” she managed to gasp out before yet again dissolving into another fit of laughter. (A/N: Sorry.)

                Amelia was glad that the girl looked less nervous, as she knew that people were often scared of her. But, she supposed that was reasonable when she had the build of a wrestler and killed people for a living. Speaking of which… “Ni zhi dao Zhang xian sheng zhu zai nar li?” she queried. (A/N: Do you know where Mr. Zhang lives?)

                “对不起，我很少出来逛街。除了京剧管老板和其他的歌女，我谁都不知道,” She replied apologetically. (A/N: Sorry, I don’t come out much. Besides the opera mistress and the other girls, I don’t really know anyone.) She wished she could go out more, but the mistress prized her fair skin and didn’t let her out into the sun very much. “您为什么找他?” She asked, curious at the workings of the world around her. (A/N: Why are you looking for him?)

                Amelia’s lips almost slipped out the truth before she said, “Wo shi ta de peng you de peng you. Yin wei wo zhi lai dao zhong guo bu tai jiu, wo xiang rang ta bang wo zhao ge di fang zhu. Xie xie ni bang zhu wo, ke shi wo dei xian zou le.” (A/N: I’m his friend’s friend. Because I haven’t been in China for that long, I want him to help me find somewhere to live. Thanks for helping me, but I have to leave now.) Amelia made a hasty retreat before she got too attached to this blonde haired blue-eyed girl with such an earnest expression. She almost told her the truth of her profession! That girl had a charismatic power far stronger than she knew, and it only seemed to get stronger the longer you spoke to her.

                Rose Emily looked sadly at the retreating figure of the strange woman before continuing down the road and the rest of her day.

Character Sketch - the girl with violet eyes

So, today I woke up at 12:30. That completely and totally threw my day off – it’s like the day was half over before I even woke up. That’s just confusing.

And I will practice a character sketch. Because I have nothing else to write about.

Character Sketch ~

She turned around, with that perpetually surprised and confused look on her face. She registered that her best friend was waving to her, and her face blossomed into a carefree smile. She waved, enthusiastic, yet still gentle and graceful in her movements. She bent over and picked her white handbag made of soft leathery material off the plastic chair, and trotted over to her friend. She was a small girl, so she generally never walked. She was used to trying to keep up with her much taller friends’ strides, so she got into the habit of perpetually using a method of motion that was in between walking and running. It made her long auburn hair come to life: not like waves in the ocean, but perhaps like the small ripples made when a child drops a pebble into a still pond.

Her heels clacked softly on the ground, and her fluffy skirt made a soft rustling sound as the fabric rubbed against itself. She was dressed in a palette of pastels against a white backdrop. Her skin was fair and white, with only a rosy tint in her cheeks to liven up her pale skin. Her eyes burned a shocking shade of violet – the intensity of her eyes really didn’t match the slight and fragile aura of the rest of her body.

Within a few moments, she was by her friend’s side. Her friend stood a couple inches taller than her: jet black hair trendily cut, sharp edges and an outfit that screamed high fashion. They looked so oddly different, yet one can feel their utter closeness when they spoke. The raven-haired girl laughed with a mature grace, while the smaller girl giggled like tinkling bells. Linked arm in arm, they turned and walked down the hallway: elegance and grace, maturity and carefree delight, but both happy and full of joy.

What a sappy sketch...

A phrase escaped from the absentminded wanderings of my mind, and his face blossomed like a daisy in spring. The expression crept from his lips and white teeth to his nose and eyes, crinkling them in utter joy. The greenish gray eyes that were framed by perfectly curled lashes sparkled with utter amusement, and his features conveyed a simple amusement that touched me to my core. What a surprising reaction! A simple statement, a simple response, yet I feel as if my world has shifted slightly and my heart has beat just a little faster. Broad shoulders curve forward a little bit as he completes the image of a blissful and carefree child, laughing and enjoying the moment.


I stared at his figure, as it seemed to glow from the light coming in from the large windows. He had a slightly awkward stance, as if he was self-conscious of how much space his strong body was taking. He held his left arm with his right hand, as if trying to shrink down a bit so that he would be less conspicuous. His light brown hair was cropped in a rather stylish cut, tousled slightly to make him look natural and relaxed.

He noticed me looking at him rather curiously, and the smile disappeared from his face, replaced by a worried glance. “Is there something on my face?” He queried softly, speaking with the gentleness of a summer breeze. His voice touched my ears like an angel’s breath, and caressed my soul with the softness of a downy blanket.

I blushed, unaware of the blatancy of my actions until he pointed it out. I shook my head and looked down, but quickly lifted my head back up to watch his expression. I wouldn’t dare miss a single blink of his beautiful eyes, a single twitch of his eyebrows, a single breath that came from his lips.

He looked confused for a moment, but gave me a shy smile, as if to say that he didn’t mind my actions. Really, I understood that he didn’t really understand my true motives; he was just a blissfully oblivious child living in his own little world.

How quickly he became the sunshine of my day, how quickly he took a spot in my melting heart…