No man's land...

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No man's land...

Mensaje  Marité Malsonante el Vie Feb 04, 2011 7:21 pm

Del desaparecido Haida Gwaii...

Story repeats again...

and it keeps repeating again, and again, and again, and They never learn.
They are ignorant children, stupid, blind, and narrow minded. Condemned like a drone, an empty carcass, to do the same over and over again.

I remember...

I recall every moment of time my captor pulled my wings, my feathers, my claws. I recall the red hot iron near my eyes, my beak, teasing me...

I keep in clear mind..

I recall He believed himself immortal, untouchable, gifted by destiny; well Destiny Lady proved to be a (Fae)cking whore, she's easy, light-hoofed, but d-a-m-n expensive. You pay with everything you've got, sweat, feathers, dreams, tears, screams, secrets, hopes, but this seeds bear its fruits and you will get what you desire the most.

I saw it coming, kept my juice in, kept my eyes open and my beak shut. He did too see it coming for He is no fool, not a single feather of foolishness I admit... but arrogance, and pride form a tight blindfold over your inner eye.

That was his doom.

I went through what I believe is the Labyrinth, the Fog, the Veil... I escaped, free but far from freedom.

So here I am, at a strange place, filled with "homo" that wander mindlessly, no fate, no use, no purpose. A flock, dead men walking...

A gathering tonight, to gather resources, strength, union, but no one realized that we are now under the bull's-eye, no one wants to be captured alone by the powers-that-be. Tragedy is a bitter-sweet drought when is drank with someone else by your side. More bearable...

We are all outcasts, I can see that, and what it keeps gnawing my mind is WHY the tendency to gather (again!) in the same kind of organization that tore apart the Fae pridelands with mindless destruction.

I refuse to dance at the Ball of the Seasons, nothing personal, I just don't like the beat... The Red Death will take off the Mask when the music stops. I know how this dance ends.

Story repeats again...

and it keeps repeating again, and again, and again, and we never learn.
They are ignorant children, stupid, blind, and narrow minded. Condemned like a drone, an empty carcass, to do the same over and over again... but this time I, Haida Gwaii, will keep my juice, and my feathers and live to tell, until They finally learn... and only then, at the end will they understand.

_________________
El patio de este reino es particular
Cuando llueve te oculta no es como los demás
Escóndanse, no los vayan a encontrar,
Y si los ven solitos los van a acompañar
Estirar, estirar
Que el demonio va a pasar...
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Marité Malsonante

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Re: No man's land...

Mensaje  Marité Malsonante el Vie Feb 04, 2011 7:22 pm

Flasker, desde entonces...

Why meet again?
you are not the only person with fear, despair and pain
we need people with the same misfortune to know how to deal with. if we don’t, we become keepers, and transform other most pathetic creatures on ourselves and try uselessly to put them through the same torment.

Thats why we need courts, markets and gangs. Because no human Knows such horrors, the hunger and thirst, the unatural heat, the despair of each dune and your keeper behind your dust and your fallen comrade at your back. The Labyrinth was nothing.

if you think you are good enough to scratch your own back, Go ahead, we Don’t cry for you. But keepers are everywhere and we wouldn't like to meet alone with any of them. I hope you can fight against them with your bare claws…
...Ho! Sorry you haven´t anymore

Good luck mate and be careful, loneliness make you mad, believe me i know a little about madness.

_________________
El patio de este reino es particular
Cuando llueve te oculta no es como los demás
Escóndanse, no los vayan a encontrar,
Y si los ven solitos los van a acompañar
Estirar, estirar
Que el demonio va a pasar...
avatar
Marité Malsonante

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Re: No man's land...

Mensaje  Marité Malsonante el Vie Feb 04, 2011 7:23 pm

Old notes from the Diary of el Alacran

...tonces le dije que si quería juntarlos, habia lugar y modo.
Ella me miro con esos rojos suyos, y asintio.
Nunca me habla. Solo me deja hablar, hablar y hablar.
Cuando le gusta algo de lo que digo, asiente. Cuando no, alguno de sus esclavos me golpea. Pero cuando callo, me encadena y me olvida. Prefiero su atención que su olvido.
Pero ella no sabe que tengo un plan.
Tengo el plan de mientras ella se lleva a los idiotas que le entregue, usare el pedazo de metal que me dio, y se lo clavaré en su negro, podrido y sucio corazón.
¿Y si no tiene corazón, como dice Jaytha?
Entonces, entonces, entonces nosequeharéyanoquieroestaraquíellasiempremestamirando(garabatos indesifrables, solo la palabra "Sirius" se distingue.)

_________________
El patio de este reino es particular
Cuando llueve te oculta no es como los demás
Escóndanse, no los vayan a encontrar,
Y si los ven solitos los van a acompañar
Estirar, estirar
Que el demonio va a pasar...
avatar
Marité Malsonante

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Re: No man's land...

Mensaje  Marité Malsonante el Vie Feb 04, 2011 7:23 pm

De una conversación random de Marité Malsonante, probablemente con ella misma...

Thing is, my memories are smaller than a teeny, tiny, little, biting, venomous bug. Her deep eyes, wide open, constantly (permanently, I must say) sleepy, her face a grimace full of boredom and disdain, and those creepy yawns that drove me out of my mind, out of control, out of being me, and I love being me. Well, sometimes. Between my permanent joy and the sincere smiles, there's just one thing that makes me whole, that completes my happiness even if it's just for a little while: I'M NOT THERE ANYMORE, and I must say that it ROCKS to feel alive again, free, away from her, no longer hers... well, "free", because I know for sure that she's still THERE, wherever THERE is, looking for me, trying to hear my broken voice, wanting to decipher the little messages I use to give and... It’s awful, and dreadful, and it creeps me out. The feeling of being free but not being free at all is the worst feeling EVER. It’s like the worst feeling OF ALL TIME.

And you ask why are we together? Well, why not? I like scratching my own back, I really do, but sometimes you need someone like you to help you go thru the process of being... the new you. Have I realized I'm smaller than I used to? Yes. Have I realized that my skin is now flawed, with scars and a surreal color? Yes. Do I need someone to point it out so I can realize I'm not human anymore? No, because I know what I am and I have to learn to like it, I have to take a place, I have to be important to someone, again, no matter who, no matter how, I just need to know that my escape was not in vain, that these scars fixed in my mind by the thorns, the horrible thorns, are worth it.

... Rambling, rambling, rambling aimlessly, that's me. That's why I'm what I am and sometimes what I say makes perfect sense. Just sometimes, not always, and it usually ends up twisted and... Well, not well. She used to call me Marité Malsonante, because I remember that most of the times she didn't like the sound of my voice, or maybe the fact that I was too deep into saying happy stuff she didn't enjoy, or maybe just because she didn’t like me and had to settle with me… I don’t really know much, and I wouldn’t like to, it’s funny how the memories sink into your brain and sometimes you can’t just dig them out. But I think it’s like opening Pandora’s box.

So count me in. Even if I don't agree, count me in. Even if I think it's just a stupid fight for silly power, count me in. I'll do whatever keeps me out of THERE, and I'll obey orders, and I'll be good, and funny, and useful, and wise. And I'll be just me and some might not like it, but count me in. I might not be the most articulate, decent, calm or adequate Changeling to be with, but really, count me in just because I don’t wanna go back, EVER.

I don't want to go back, but I could see something in your future, something grim, or something happy and shining. Would you like me to sing you a song about it? High tempo would be nice, that'd allow us to dance. And I do LOVE to dance, don't you? You would LOVE my beat, I promise, and I never miss one.

_________________
El patio de este reino es particular
Cuando llueve te oculta no es como los demás
Escóndanse, no los vayan a encontrar,
Y si los ven solitos los van a acompañar
Estirar, estirar
Que el demonio va a pasar...
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Marité Malsonante

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Re: No man's land...

Mensaje  Marité Malsonante el Vie Feb 04, 2011 7:24 pm

Garrick, antes de... bueno, no sabemos de qué.

Rascarse la espalda. Y un buen masaje. Y para reír y jugar fuera de la comprensión humana, como sabemos nosotros. Para eso hay que estar juntos, para reír MAS FUERTE y jugar NUESTROS JUEGOS, no los de ellos.

Para seguir siendo nosotros en relación a nosotros.

_________________
El patio de este reino es particular
Cuando llueve te oculta no es como los demás
Escóndanse, no los vayan a encontrar,
Y si los ven solitos los van a acompañar
Estirar, estirar
Que el demonio va a pasar...
avatar
Marité Malsonante

Mensajes : 155
Fecha de inscripción : 03/01/2011
Localización : En algún lugar cerca del Seto...

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Re: No man's land...

Mensaje  Eladio Cazacuervos el Vie Feb 04, 2011 10:56 pm

Marité Malsonante escribió:Del desaparecido Haida Gwaii...
Story repeats again...

and it keeps repeating again, and again, and again, and we never learn.
They are ignorant children, stupid, blind, and narrow minded. Condemned like a drone, an empty carcass, to do the same over and over again... but this time I, Haida Gwaii, will keep my juice, and my feathers and live to tell, until They finally learn... and only then, at the end will they understand.

"Haida Gwaii? Si, he escuchado de el. Un tipo de cuidado, sobre todo para ser un esclavo profugo de los Gentiles. Jamas le venderia mis finas mercaderias sin antes ver su moneda. Dicen los que saben, que una vez en un Mercado truco a un viejo Duende en darle su voz si, a cambio, el le daba su lengua. Le arranco la lengua al Duende, la reclamo como suya y, cumpliendo su palabra, se la dio de regreso saldando la deuda. Lo correria de mi puesto al momento de verlo"
- Bassadoni, Trasgo prestamista y mercader.

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Eladio Cazacuervos

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Munheca

Mensaje  Garrick el Jue Feb 17, 2011 12:20 am

Esa munheca me comparte su perpetuo olor a nuevo. Y me hace sentir en... me hace sentir fuera de Arcadia.

Garrick

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