MUSIC UPDATE

Hey guys, so I am trying to update more often this semester. Anyway I've been back at school for almost a week and classes start on Monday. So let's do some music updates. Currently (as in at this very moment) I  listening to Simon and Garfunkel.

I have been listening to a lot of Ben Howard, James Bay's new ep, and most exciting: the new NEEDTOBREATHE album Rivers in the Wasteland. It's sooo good! It was the most exciting part of the summer.


(That is cool cover art!)

It is my favorite album of the year. Mostly because it's NEEDTOBREATHE, but also because it's a great album. More heart Less Attack is possibly one of my favorite songs.

So you need to most definitely go take a listen to the album. Hopefully I can go to the show in Baton Rouge. That should be exciting. OK bye.

A Hope that Goes Unseen

Heather here. Greetings from an overwhelmed soon-to-be college student! After being gently encouraged all summer to put some time back into my writing, I've completed a total of one (1) piece. It's short, but it's on a theme that runs deep through all my work and through my very soul. I could write forever on this, but for now I'll post what little I have. Enjoy:

Zion

Zion

I'm scared out of my mind; I'm alone; I'm thirsty; I'm wounded. I'm wandering in this barren wasteland. I'm so weak that I stumble and fall to the ground a couple of times every few minutes. I don't want to die, but I feel as if I don't want to live either. I long to return home and return to those I love, but I can't. My darkness, chains, and debts wait for me there and chase me even here. They're no more than a day behind me in travel.

Elysha, The Awakened (The Seven)

Elysha, the Awakened

I'm floating in the air. I'm in this large, never ending space of whiteness. In front of me, it looks like some girl is sleeping in this bed. It's weird; the angle I'm at makes it seem like I'm above her. From time to time, she looks at peace and at other times, it looks like she's having a nightmare. I pity her. As I start to feel sorry all the more for her, I start to cry. One of those tears drops off of my cheek and splashes on her forehead. It was almost as if the sensation of splashing my face to wake myself up coursed through me..... As soon as this happens, I see this flash of light. I open my eyes bashfully as they still seem heavy with sleep. “Had a nice dream, princess?” asks one of my comrades.

Untitled

I’m trying, desperately actually, to figure it all out. Everything that has happened is coming to a catastrophic end. But I’ve learned something. I’ve learned that my favorite words in the whole English language are when said genuinely with vulnerability, “I’m struggling.” Everything that I’ve seen in my short 19 years has made me into something so far from what I was originally intended for. And now in this moment I can appreciate the bravery in others  that I never had.

I always played the right part. I had it all under control, or so it seemed. I thought that time was on my side that I would have enough of it to get myself together. I was wrong. Now I am out of time. There are no more chances to get it together.

Why I Deleted the Excerpt from the Novel

So I posted an excerpt of something about a week ago. As you have noticed it's been deleted. Well part of the reason I deleted it was the fact that I posted in haste. I wrote that when I was fifteen. I guess that has something to do with it as well. I thought, "Hey I was fifteen, that's pretty good for a fifteen year old." But as I was reading it again I noticed things in it that I would never do now. The dialog was cheesy, the exposition was forced, and it just wasn't me. I mean it was me, obviously, I wrote it, but it was fifteen year old me. Nineteen year old me isn't exactly fond of fifteen year old me. Anyway, just kind of an explanation. Bye.

Airport Musings

The dark expanse extends beneath the wings of the plane as it chases the sun. Apollo's chariot unfortunately runs faster than man can follow and the world below gets blanketed in cozy blackness. Patches of brightly lit cities spot the inky landscape creating interesting shapes like constellations in the night. A child's cry breaks the silence that threatens to lull one into it's sleepy embrace. The mothers soothing reasserts the peace that was held by all aboard as the land below continued to slip by without the notice of most. As darkness descends upon the world it's harder to distinguish a location but the view intrigues none the less. What patterns have man created upon this world? What constellations have been added to the earth? What imaginations we mere mortals have to have created such interest. It makes one wonder how. You can say a city is beautiful but until you see it from the air at night you cannot truly comprehend the marvel of man's invention.

Charle, the Prodigal (The Seven)

Charle, the Prodigal

The sun has all but set at this point in time. In front, above, and behind me, dark clouds haunt the sky as the reddish-purple light of the sun seeps through the cracks as the night approaches. It’s not expected to storm, and yet all I can see is the brilliant flashes of lightning contrasting the darkness of the sky. Eh. It’s not worth my time; it doesn’t concern me. Good riddance, too.

A "Fanfic" About Demons (hopefully the first of many)

Hello, friends! This is Heather Rose, finally posting something I've been "working on" for months. If you are familiar with the great work by (the even greater) C. S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters, you probably have an idea of the unique point of view that the book is written in. The book is a collection of letters (which follow a plot), written from a high-ranking demon, Screwtape, to his first-time tempter nephew, Wormwood.

True Love

She closed her eyes, here it was again, the old familiar pain. she opened her eyes and read the text again. Tears welled up in her eyes, she wanted to scream but she couldn't... they would hear... they would ask what was wrong... she'd have to tell them... everything... she couldn't do that... no, she couldn't scream. There it was, the tearing ripping feeling in her chest. Her old familiar friend, the pain, the pain of him, the pain of his indifference.

Maybe I am Insane

Trying to write fails me. I can only start something then get annoyed and bored with it then trash it. Every time I crumple a piece of paper Kyle tells me “You know what Hemingway said about that right?” I am reminded how Hemingway said crumpling paper would make you insane (or something of that nature).

I reply, “Screw Hemingway.” And he laughs because I love Hemingway.

I tried to write the same poem for a month once. I didn’t work, the words didn’t fit and the rhythm was off. I ripped pages from my note book and threw them, crumpled, into the trash can. Music didn't help. I would end up wrapped in the comforting blanket of familiar lyrics and forget about my own poetry. Reading poetry didn’t help either. I read “Digging” fifteen times in a row. It only made me passionate about hard work and ethics and all that rot. I gave up at the end of the month. I didn’t think it was worth my time. Maybe I was wrong.

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and over again expecting a different result. Sitting with a pen and a notebook and music never really changes the result. Paper usually ends up in the trash can. I usually end up with my head in my hands wondering what is wrong with me. Maybe Hemingway was right. Maybe I am insane.

Patience

Hi Chi here! Got a poem here tell me what you think!

Patience

Heads or tails
Black or white
Yes or no
The choice is yours
What will it be

A logo of our own!

Hey guys,
If you have visited this humble corner of the interwebs before (first of all, thank you!), you have probably noticed that we have a new design representing us.
If you are new here (welcome!), yes, we have just changed our logo/blog header, and we are REALLY excited about it.
We have our own custom, original logo!
Drawn by Oblivion, and scanned/edited for internet use by Chi.
It represents us well, I think. We're just people who love what we do, and love sharing it. Whether it's artwork, stories, poems, or videos (shhh, soon to come!): we just enjoy making things, and leaving it all on the table.

Posted by Table of Contents

A Belated Winter/Holiday Piece

We are still getting the hang of uploading artwork from our wonderfully talented artists... Bear with us!

This piece, by Oblivion, is a part of our latest Winter/Holiday series.

Yes, it's a few months after the ideal posting-time, but it's still winter in some parts of the country, so this piece is still quite appropriate.

Enjoy!!

Spring Shunned a Season

Not as likely to compete or spar,

And yet, to each other a bane;

Each is its own to sing

And rains its glory shower.

To Be Set Apart

Ye young virgin clay

Not fit for mine eyes to see.

Yet, we may stay awhile

At the same time, keeping our temples undefiled

Not for the sake of vanity, but

In the pursuit of greatest purity.

Xael, the Restored (The Seven)

Xael, the Restored

I start to scream at the top of my lungs. “NOOOOOOOOOO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Why was this happening?! Where am I?! What's going to

Happen to me?! Where am I going!? What am I going to do?! My lungs

Feel exhausted from all the screaming as all the wind I've used has been lost

To the skies. My head hurts as I start to weep and lament. I'm still trying to catch

Up and understand all of what's occurred and why. It's all so overwhelming.

This is not a story.

But it's about stories...
Meet my (Heather) most recent mixed media piece:

Hannat, The Redeemed (The Seven)

Hannat, the Redeemed

I begin to open my eyes, but it's quite strenuous. I feel great, aching pain

All over my body. My legs, torso, arms, back, and head feel like they're on

Fire.... Why?.... Oh wait. That's right. I'm being tortured. Why is that again?

Oh, right. I'm a criminal.

The Grace of a King

The Grace of a King - Vorylin

I was born a prince; an inheritor to my father's land.

I was raised by my father, my mother, and the royal counselors and I became

A fair-headed, aspiring man. I was taught everything there was to learn

About the kingdom I would soon come to reign over. I was instructed in the

Ways of mathematics, reading and writing of scripture, commerce,

Geography, history, philosophy, alchemy, governing, empire, architecture,

Religion, and chivalry. With this knowledge I had accrued, I sought to be

A ruler of and for the people. I wanted to bring the kingdom into a golden age in which

My children would succeed me and continue my work.

The Power

The Power -Vorylin

Life is a powerful force. Life is a never-ending cycle. Death is not the end; if it were, the laws of the universe itself are violated and irreconcilable, but this is not so. What is created cannot be destroyed. There is always continuation. Death is part of such a continuation.

There are two men, on opposite sides of the world, close to death themselves. One is on his deathbed, surrounded by warmth, his dear family, and his beloved friends. The other man, however, is lying on the ground on a snowy path in the mountains; he's mortally wounded in his left leg, bleeding from his femoral artery. He is surrounded by Indian, Pakistani, and Nepalese men that were sojourning with him in the Himalayas. The two men had not much in common let alone knew one another, but there's one thing they shared. They both spoke these exact same words to those around them at the exact same time:

Cold

_{Cold - Vorylin}

_{I am louder than a bitter roar.}

_{The lower I am, the higher I soar.}

Heat

Heat -Vorylin

I am more silent than a sweet calm.

I am the bringer of the sweat on your palm

And the inspirer of many a psalm.

Voice of Love

 

When most people see a teenage girl, they think that she can't know real pain; she hasn’t lived long enough to know pain. However, it is not just outside pain: it's the inside pain. It's the hurt they can't see. Those little voices in your head that tell you you're not good enough or not pretty enough… they are the cause of more pain than anyone can realize. Those little voices, if validated, can be deadly. Many hear the voices, but can pretend. Many can fight, it but there is only one way to beat them. That is where our story begins.

 

            She sat in the darkness so no one would see her cry. She cried in the darkness so no one would know her pain. She didn't want anyone to know her pain because they couldn't possibly understand. No one could understand why she hurt so badly. No one could hear the voices in her head, the voices that she fought every day. No one knew what she had to do just to get through every day, or the lies she told herself to feel better, or the smiles she had to force. With every day the voices got louder and meaner. Then one day, she heard another voice much softer than the rest, but the more she listened the louder it got. "I'm here my daughter." it said. The other voices seemed afraid of the new voice. They shrank back and quieted. "I am so glad you are finally hearing me my beloved child." The voice washed over her like a refreshing wave. It warmed her to the core. "My child, I have waited so long for you to hear my voice, and now the time has come. You have been called. I have a plan for your life. You are loved so much more than you could ever know. If you ever feel so unloved again just remember my name, for I have loved you all your life and will love you until the end of your days." It was Him, the Creator, and He loved her. He had a plan for her. Everything the voices had been telling her was a lie. She now had true happiness. She no longer cried in the dark, she was no longer in pain, and the smiles were no longer forced.

 

            She served the One True King for the rest of her life. Because she fought and won, she was able to help others beat the voices. Until the end of her days He was by her side. She never forgot the voices, and they never stayed away, but as long as she remembered that He was there they never stayed for long.

NEEDTOBREATHE - "Difference Maker" [Official Audio]

This song is amazing! I heard them preform it live and..... wow..... just wow! i just makes me smile and maybe eve cry a little, because the message of this song is so powerful. And you can tell they believe in the message when they sing the song. I need to leave because I am shaking right now. This is fantastic!!!!

Something to Consider

The following is the first piece from our newest member, Vorylin


Something to Consider

Element-ary

Daylight faded to utter blackness seeping out the last reserves of her strength. The light, the heat died. A cold laugh pierced the air, chilling her to the bone.
"Puny child! You thought you could fight me?

An Untitled Winter Flash Fiction from Winter Hill

       The snow falls silently as I sit under the tree shuffling my feet in front of me. I put the book of poems beside me and rub my hands together and blow into them. I pick the book up, because my hands feel empty with out it. I lean my head against the tree watching my breath fog. Something about that makes me want to cry and laugh at the same time.

An old, old story.

Heather's Piece...       

      "I love to tell the story, 
   for those who know it best 
 seem hungering and thirsting 
 to hear it like the rest."

Winter. The very word whispers of soft, crystal snowflakes and crisp, gray winds. Under the subtlest of mention, we understand the implied affect. The stories beneath it lie dormant through months of heat and rain and decay and growth, waiting patiently to be resurrected and retold to the eager ears of a hungry generation. Each ear that hears, and heart that feels, and eye that sees, is then in turn burdened with the story and the command to tell it again. But if you have known the story, and are a bearer of the mission, then you know that it is no grievance. It is joy in the simple retelling, and bounties more in the story itself.

Introducing..... NEW CONENT!!! *yay*

Hello there!
A belated Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you!
I am exceedingly pleased to announce to you that we will be posting some new content this week!
*hooray for getting things done!*
Please enjoy the posts to come, as we have enjoyed making them.
They are all flowing along the theme of-
wait-

....
no, I won't tell you here.
You'll figure it out...

- Table of Contents