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♥-»∙´‾`~»» "Crescendo to the Epilogue""The silence calls for you..."
Things always start out so simple and clean, so untarnished by the true horrors of reality, so untouched and utterly unblemished by the war-tearing scars of tragedy. But then again, don't they always?
Of course they do.
It's all part of that eternal spiral—that confusing chain of memories, transgressions, life, and death—run by no one less than Time herself—the mistress of evidence who lies in wait behind the scenes; waiting, waiting, waiting. Angels and demons come and go, our silhouetted dreams fade, our worries ease. But what about words you don't hear me say?
"This is my final gift to you..."
As we have transcended from the pitiable remembrances of the past, turning from bleak histories long gone to brighter futures that have been spun as mere façades to ensure blissful oblivion, there have always been things beyond our comprehension. And there are things—and people—we will forever cherish. Even in the ashen fume of burning aether, there's the comforting nephilim whose face lingers hidden in shade as he chases away the darkness, fending it off hand-in-hand with the moonlight shadow cloaked in the solar wind of quietude. And who knows; starting a journey might not be so hard—or maybe it's already begun. Perhaps the two have already fended off the darkness as they join hands in an alluring promenade danced in the unknowing descrescendo to problems' termination. But then again; who knows?
And perhaps, by now, it's never too late. Or maybe it is. In lands plagued by innocent sorrow, who are we to ask—who are we to question? Morality and mortality aside, I never told you what I did for a living, did I? I never needed to in the first place. All we need to remember tonight is the wishweaving oathkeeper—your guardian angel hidden in the guise of your long-time fear. And the fate of the unknown has never come unveiled, lies never having come undone, so what might you consider the true point of it all? The dearly beloved? Those you should never let go? What about the devil inside?
"Without trust, the road ahead grants only destruction..."
And again; who knows.
As the melodies of life continue their sombre waltz of the damned, sanctuary and the passion of those we have believed in seem to dull in the passing beat of ephemerality. In only the darkest of brightdowns do we realize—what is the point? What are the points of authority? What about what I've done? What about the in the end consequences? Even through the endless fields of hope, all but rigged and saturated with the demons of the past, there's always a point. Through pride, through sorrow, through lies, through the eternal, maybe we'll understand someday. Maybe then—my bleeding heart will calm. But if things turn for the worst, maybe it'll stop. Or maybe it'll simply bleed more about the enigmatic twists of prelude 12/24, whatever they are.
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate..."
Indeed, we again find ourselves wondering. Of the garden of everything, of our shredding butterfly wings, of the seemingly perpetual sandstorm, and of love like winter—nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing at all could have ever prepared us for this. This one moment of true love. This one moment of dreams come true. This one moment of everything we have ever dreamed of.
This one moment of utter betrayal.
Even as said the raven, 'Nevermore', we'll never know. Oh, we'll never know... we'll never know the true prize at stake, the true odds of the win... we'll never know that our only hope has gone astray...
"...Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure."
Even as "the solitary rose lies dead"—"cut down as a sign of affection"—even when the ghost of you sweeps us by and takes us away, we'll never see how far we've come. We're nothing more than poor unfortunate souls. What could we possibly do? Oh sure, we could tell secrets away jut so you know, we could gossip like the freaky-harpy-like neighbor residing next door, but the letter of answers—all the answers we have ever wanted—would never show up.
We'd never receive it.
Thus—perhaps we'd have to part paths and meet at road's end. In death. Then maybe things would resolve. And it's better off this way, so much better off this way...
As the lunar tides swept by in tantalizing caresses of inspiration, the solitary mourning dove is joined by the nephilim and the moonlight shadow, a completed trio of promise... And so, a flowing tempest smiles at the woven threads of hope and a hummingbird flutters away...
Tear-streaked surrender.
♥-»∙´‾`~»» "About Me~"
Suffice to say, you have surprised me if you successfully managed to read through that blabber of randomly inspired gunk. Aforementioned gunk was the result and perhaps fortunate (or is it unfortunate) aftermath of getting lost in one's thoughts. And aforementioned gunk is additionally courtesy to me. Regardless, now that you managed to get here, I might as well tell you a bit about myself...
I call myself Enaella, though my real name will remain concealed. I am an almost-teenager writer—physically or mentally, you'll never know—who enjoys roleplaying very much. I consider myself fairly literate, and am easily disgusted with illiterate writing, though I am decently tolerant about it. However, when you are a literate writer who happens to have an either poetic or playful (or both) flair to your prose, watch out, you've got a stalker on your trail. You'll probably end up with a fan of your writing for quite some time. Who will attempt to worm her way into somehow writing or talking to you.
I consider myself a bit split-personality—my behavior depends. It really depends. Specifically, it depends on the people I am interacting with and my surroundings. Sadly, but suffice to say, I don't really understand what my true character is. I know my nature may be deeper than most, that is the horrid truth to my endless confusion. Know that piece I wrote just above? It's the beloved child of what happens when my deeper side comes into play and turns every single sentence into a multi-faceted gem of multiple meanings. Deep meanings.
But I digress.
With that said, I'll go on to say that I am a pianist, writer, drawer, graphic designer, and violinist. I strive for high grades that are in the A or 90 range and my best subject is language arts while my worst is likely math. Curse math. I have a tendency to be sleep-deprived and procrastinate, which makes me wonder... how on earth do I manage to maintain decent grades? >.> A-anyway, I am your typical Pisces who loves to daydream and think about the deeper meanings of life. People have called me "emo", but I assure you that I'm not. At least, I'm not your stereotypical definition of "emo" who cuts her wrists and threatens to commit suicide... I think.
This detail is a bit more personal, but I have an extreme fear of being alone. I have no idea if it's a phobia, but I hate being alone. It's not major, but it depends on which type of "alone" you mean... if I were alone in the house for a few hours or a day, I'd be fine. Now, if everyone I cared about died on me all of a sudden, then I'd go berserk.
It is also rather hard for people to surprise me. I don't show if I'm surprised at times, and when actually do receive shocking, horrible news, I tend to feel extremely numb for a long time before even considering gasping and such.
With that said and aside—I know what you're thinking; you're thinking I'm the weirdest person ever, huh?—I'll say that I'm secretive. And I have already told you too much about my personal life anyway. So I'll stop here, but I'll include some small details if anyone's interested...
Name: Just call me "Enaella".
Pronunciation: Ehn-AY-luh
Gender: Female
Age: 12ish-13ish
Birthday: February 20th
Likes: Good writing with playful, well-worded prose, blue, birds, wings, feathers, and food... yum. I also have an obsession with anime and manga, especially well-drawn ones with excellent plots... and people who are genuinely nice and considerate... and shiny things. Yes. Shiny things. Oh, and piano/violin music as well. I like those very much *nods*.
Dislikes: Grammar/spelling mistakes (that can be fixed with a simple check through Microsoft Word), bugs, people who think they are "all that" (or, in other words, are supposedly "knowledgeable" when they actually can't tell heads-or-tails what the heck, are conceited, etc.), the word "uber", and some other things as well.
Favorite Anime/Manga: Gundam Seed, Gundam Seed Destiny, Fruits Basket, Fullmetal Alchemist, X/1999, Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle, Kamikaze Kaito Jeanne, Full Moon wo Sagashite, DN Angel, Galaxy Angel, Loveless, Naruto, Ouran High School Host Club, D.Gray-Man, Death Note, and many others. Strangely, though I do like romance genre stuff, I like stuff with violence more. For some reason, I have it in my head that "violence and gore makes the anime/manga more serious and gives it a more intriguing plot because it involves battle", which I like, I suppose. Like in Fullmetal Alchemist, Gundam Seed, and X/1999, for example. I especially love those anime/manga. However, pointless killing in an anime/manga that doesn't make sense is something I especially hate.
Favorite Games: Kingdom Hearts, Kingdom Hearts 2, Star Ocean III: Till the End of Time, Final Fantasy X, and some other good stuff. I love games, and will attempt to get my hands on good ones.
Favorite Artists: Abingdon Boys School, Utada Hikaru, Ayumi Hanasaki, Acceptance, Evanescence, Jesse McCartney, Linkin Park, High and Mighty Color, Nami Tamaki, Rie Tanaka, Three Days Grace, Matchbox Twenty, Malice Mizer, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Paramore, Mandy Moore, and a buncha others. I like a lot of music, but my taste in it is quite weird. As mentioned by my sister mad d.
Favorite Hobbies: Writing, Drawing, Singing, Reading, Internet, Napping, Sleeping, Music, Daydreaming, Roleplaying, Graphic designing, Thinking, Reminiscing/Remembering things
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The Pondering Writer
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