Time warps in a vortex space.
Influx of thoughts rift through dimensions faster.
Consciousness remains still.
The moonlight reflected on Catherine's blank eyes. She's as still as the night sky. No clouds drifted here and there which gave a free view of the full moon. She remained seated on the lawn, silent, deep in thought.
The neighborhood seemed empty. All lights were out but the lamp posts which were drowned by the darkness and emptiness of the environment.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
1. She Walks in Beauty
The truth is painful.
To live is to abide by the truth.
To hope for something good in that truth is the murder of thyself.
To exist is to do likewise.
She was looking at a mirror, putting on make up, 'cause she was preparing for her date tonight. She was gorgeous - luscious lips, brown eyes, rosy cheeks, straight black hair... All her qualities were too unnatural for the human eye yet so natural on her, as if she was a goddess.
She is way too simple by the looks yet sophisticated by the smile - where a new world opens up when she blinks those eyes and couples it with a sincere expression of the lips. It's a total sensation of awe that brings an extravagant admiration.
She has been a light up in the heavens, up in the milky way, that progressively mesmerizes the night sky watchers and the fantasy wanderers - those fascinated eyes that hoped that light would've been very much reachable. She must have been the most lovely of all.
She is flawless. Her skin is too perfect to suit a mortal. Her body seems incorruptible by age. Her innocence undefiled, her conscience pure, her heart vulnerable - she is a jewel that demanded more than the best of care. But then--
She's a star that doesn't shine. It seems as if all that beauty personified isn't obvious in the absolutes of black and white, rather in shades of gray, of dull gray. Her face - clouded, her eyes - submissive, her smile - crooked. She's a goddess that's a slave of fate.
To find her attractive is to navigate within the complexities of indefinite appreciation. She is exquisitely beautiful.
Catherine was her name.
She has been staring at the mirror and in the time elapsed she has been conjuring all her anxieties in front of her. She then consequently shrugged it all off and ensured herself that everything's going to be just fine. There's this uneasiness within her that somehow caused all the hesitation.
"Nah, you're thinking too much."
She left the mirror by the wall... Out to the cold cloudy night.
The night was a volta. The temperature seemed colder than the nights before and the moon is being blocked by Nimbus clouds. Still, Catherine went out carrying nothing but her bag. From Marble Street, she walked towards Gray Avenue which was about two blocks away, and from there she took a cab.
5 minutes passed and she was already on her way to Bog's Grille. The influx of her anxiety continuously increased with respect to time. Her heart was pounding.
"Ah come on Catherine. You can't back out now... And the guy's nice."
Her phone suddenly rang. The Caller ID displayed "Enzo." Two more rings and--
"Uhm, Yes?"
"Am already here Catherine, table under a painting of an old man with enormous wings..." said Enzo, in a very calm and cold tone.
"Old man, huh? I'll be there in a minute. Just you wait." Catherine immediately replied, thinking if making the guy wait is a bad thing.
"Oh-ho, no hurries, no hurries. Time's fool I am, my lady, for I myself am a fool to myself and a fool myself; time is foolish, or is it?" his tone unchanging.
"I won't get you when you talk to me... that way," said Catherine, smiling. There's this excitement within her that makes her heart want to burst out but she controlled her tone. The guy's suave which makes him irresistible to some indefinite extent.
To live is to abide by the truth.
To hope for something good in that truth is the murder of thyself.
To exist is to do likewise.
She was looking at a mirror, putting on make up, 'cause she was preparing for her date tonight. She was gorgeous - luscious lips, brown eyes, rosy cheeks, straight black hair... All her qualities were too unnatural for the human eye yet so natural on her, as if she was a goddess.
She is way too simple by the looks yet sophisticated by the smile - where a new world opens up when she blinks those eyes and couples it with a sincere expression of the lips. It's a total sensation of awe that brings an extravagant admiration.
She has been a light up in the heavens, up in the milky way, that progressively mesmerizes the night sky watchers and the fantasy wanderers - those fascinated eyes that hoped that light would've been very much reachable. She must have been the most lovely of all.
She is flawless. Her skin is too perfect to suit a mortal. Her body seems incorruptible by age. Her innocence undefiled, her conscience pure, her heart vulnerable - she is a jewel that demanded more than the best of care. But then--
She's a star that doesn't shine. It seems as if all that beauty personified isn't obvious in the absolutes of black and white, rather in shades of gray, of dull gray. Her face - clouded, her eyes - submissive, her smile - crooked. She's a goddess that's a slave of fate.
To find her attractive is to navigate within the complexities of indefinite appreciation. She is exquisitely beautiful.
Catherine was her name.
She has been staring at the mirror and in the time elapsed she has been conjuring all her anxieties in front of her. She then consequently shrugged it all off and ensured herself that everything's going to be just fine. There's this uneasiness within her that somehow caused all the hesitation.
"Nah, you're thinking too much."
She left the mirror by the wall... Out to the cold cloudy night.
The night was a volta. The temperature seemed colder than the nights before and the moon is being blocked by Nimbus clouds. Still, Catherine went out carrying nothing but her bag. From Marble Street, she walked towards Gray Avenue which was about two blocks away, and from there she took a cab.
5 minutes passed and she was already on her way to Bog's Grille. The influx of her anxiety continuously increased with respect to time. Her heart was pounding.
"Ah come on Catherine. You can't back out now... And the guy's nice."
Her phone suddenly rang. The Caller ID displayed "Enzo." Two more rings and--
"Uhm, Yes?"
"Am already here Catherine, table under a painting of an old man with enormous wings..." said Enzo, in a very calm and cold tone.
"Old man, huh? I'll be there in a minute. Just you wait." Catherine immediately replied, thinking if making the guy wait is a bad thing.
"Oh-ho, no hurries, no hurries. Time's fool I am, my lady, for I myself am a fool to myself and a fool myself; time is foolish, or is it?" his tone unchanging.
"I won't get you when you talk to me... that way," said Catherine, smiling. There's this excitement within her that makes her heart want to burst out but she controlled her tone. The guy's suave which makes him irresistible to some indefinite extent.
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