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But is there anyone who loves you? Is there ANYONE who c a r e s?
Or do you walk the streets with naught but loneliness in your air?
If we left you in the gutter, gutted and supine, would your family come to find you, or the first of the canines;
to sniff out your dead reek and to mar your flesh and dine (crunching in the cold sunlight as the PEOPLE pass you by.)
Is there anyone who loves you? Anyone who dares
to brave your lusts and whimsies;
Is there anyone (anyone?) who cares? |
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| ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif) i_hope_thatFor many of us, the holidays can be kind of rough. If you're searching for a network of understanding friends, this ultra-nurturing community encourages you to express your heartfelt wishes and offer other members encouragement and acceptance. Not for the terminally snarky or emotionally-challenged, this is a good-spirited place to lend comfort and support. | |
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| diygiftsFeeling crafty? If you've got a few last folks on your holiday gift list, this is a great place to seed your creativity and generosity. You'll also discover wonderful DIY tips to decorate your home and entertain guests. Offering a no-frills-no-skills attitude that welcomes the cash-challenged and arts-phobic, you're sure to get ideas and make friends in the process. | |
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| cooking_clubA fun and friendly community dedicated to those who love to cook, whether you're a meat-and-potatoes type, an aspiring gourmand, and/or a vegan. In search of a brilliant dish to use up those weekly leftovers? Post your ingredients and you'll be whipping up a feast by dinner. You can also share favorite recipes. For Type A chefs, you can spice up your culinary repertoire with exciting cooking challenges. | |
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|  | | | | You find yourself in a big red house. Or a labyrinth. It is an uncertain location; maybe it is Hell itself, or just the Limbo. Everywhere around you there are shades of red. Even the floor is red. There are no doors, no windows, no exits, no entrances. No stairs and no elevators. Cold lights illuminate your way, a whirring sound, the only noise breaking through the silence, coming from them. Out of your eye rage, nothing can be heard nor seen, but it is not your major concern. Up and down, you will walk the white lights path, trying to find something to escape - a window, a door, a hole in the wall, anything. You hurry your steps for some reason, like an itch at the neck, like something telling you to do so. Maybe it is because you are late for dinner or hungry for lunch. Maybe it is because you heard steps near the end of the hall and you are following them. Who knows, maybe it will lead you to the exit. Or maybe it won't. You alone must make a choice. |
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| This is a public service announcement. My name is Detective Charlie Townsend. That name probably doesn't mean anything to you, and let's hope it doesn't have to. What I need is some help looking for a dangerous criminal. Just so you know ahead of time-- making shit up is punishable by the law, and my cuffs are one-size-fits-all. Anybody who's seen suspicious characters around should report to me now. I'm looking for a man, maybe twenties to thirties. Probably doesn't narrow it down much, but that's what I've got. Now I don't have all day, and nobody wants to wait around until some women ends up raped and murdered, right? So, let's talk. Oh. Almost forgot. The police chief said he'd assign me a partner who knows this city. Which one of you is it? | |
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| It's by the whim of a goddess that you awaken in a foreign place tonight. Perhaps you are a spirit or a deity, and you've come of your accord. Or perhaps you are a mortal, and it is only by her will that you've been invited. Spirited away to this magical place. Your gracious immortal host has provided you with two things: a mask-- ornate, jeweled, and conveniently an artistic representation of your true nature, whatever that may be-- and appropriate masquerade attire.
The ballroom seems to stretch on forever. And in the back of the room, a masked violinist in a tall iron bird cage plays the Devil's Trill. And in the center of this vast ballroom, nestled in velvet on a small, white pedestal-- a golden apple. Inscribed with the words: TO THE FAIREST. Oh my, has someone left that there for you? |
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Aren't these just adorable? It's a shame to have to eat them just to satisfy an oral fixation... | |
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| MEMBERSHIP IS NOW CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
READ THIS if you have no idea what I'm talking about. | |
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|  it's a hot and humid day, with rain clouds gathering
overhead, and a soft mumble of thunder in the distance.
it's very empty and quiet - who on earth could you
find wandering around out here, in the middle of nowhere?
the only sounds might be the rumble of the random,
occasional car that comes down this expansive road,
and the very quiet cry of some bird flitting around
somewhere in the sky. appreciate the peace while
it lasts. | |
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By whatever unknown misfortune, you've come to find yourself in a beautiful mansion. Feel free to have a look around, but for heaven's sake, don't touch anything. Yes, it appears not a soul or servant exists in these halls to reprimand you, but if you get too loud, well. The house's master will not be held accountable for his actions.
The ballroom is nearby -- do visit. Lovey music drifts from an indeterminable source; classical, of course, with sweet woodwinds and solemn strings. You'll feel quite inspired to dance.
Enjoy your evening. |
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| ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) stepstomarrowWhen granddaughter, Jada, was born with leukemia, a donor-match was located and Jada made a miraculous recovery. In honor of her grandaughter's health, Jeanna has decided to walk across the country (in the dead of winter) to raise awareness and build support for the bone marrow registry (all that's required is a cheek swab). Follow Jeanna's remarkable journey as she travels the United States by foot. | |
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| HELLO MY NAME IS ... tiffany.I AM CURRENTLY A ... student.I LOVE THE COLOR ... pink.MY PERSONAL LJ IS ... arcesso.YOU CAN FIND ME ON AIM AT ... to boldly trek.YOU CAN ALSO REACH ME AT ... live[dot]infamy[at]gmail[dot]com.I DEFINITELY WILL BE ... adding to this list.( got the right amount of leather ) | |
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Once this city was a bursting metropolis full of technology and reason, a shining beacon amongst a sea of lights, but that all has changed.
Now there's a loud market full of suspicious people and reprogrammed machines. Better keep your friends close, you wits closer, and your wallet even closer still. | |
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| taste_budsHolidays provide a built-in excuse for indulgent entertaining. This all-purpose foodie community covers everything from homemade hangover cures to dinner party menus. Need quick advice? Get five-minute snack suggestions, low-fat ingredient substitutes, and even measurement conversions. Delicious recipes garnished with humorous advice. Yum. | |
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| naturesbeautyAlways on the lookout for compelling images, we were delighted to discover this flourishing community of artists who share a love of nature. Honoring the subject with photographs, paintings, sketches, prose, poetry, and other creative works, you'll be simultaneously riveted to your monitor and inspired to run helter skelter towards the nearest wooded dale. | |
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Rituals. They play an important part of everyday (and sometimes not-so-everyday) life. The ins and outs, the small and big patterns that -- when taken together -- form cadence of living. Strung one after another they form a day (a week, a month, a year).
Mornings, for some, are the best. For others, the worst.
So. Wake up early, sleep in late. Alone, with a friend, with a lover, with a stranger whose name you don't really remember and maybe you never got it in the first place. Brush your teeth, forget to comb your hair. Walk to school, take the bus. Coffee, tea, NoDoz, cigarettes, the day's first beer. Socks first, then pants or shoes, no socks.
In the end, they are what you make them and they are what make you.
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Last of the autumn harvest
It's getting too late in the season for an outdoor market. The air's a little chilly, and the sun is liable to go down much too early tonight. But indoor markets are still selling the last of the autumn fruits and veggies. They make colourful patterns in the stands along the walls, and the air is filled with a hum as people move from place to place, debating what they need for the week ahead or asking the fishmonger about his catch of the day. The air is heavy with the warm smell of bread and spices and the crisp green scent of vegetables. |
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| MEMBERSHIP IS NOW OPEN UNTIL 12/19/09.
intro shortcuts coming when this lady isn't buried in finals♥ | |
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