If only the post could match up to the anticipation, huh?
Allow me to introduce myself. I the Empyreal Faerie, known by many other names throughout the Web World. I will tell you a little more about myself than the profile tells you.
Favorite actors (based on talent): Alan Rickman, Colin Farrell, Parminder Nagra, Charlize Theron, Christopher Walken, Kate Winslet, Jeremy Davies, Ian McKellen, Lucy Liu, Uma Thurman
Favorite actors (based on appearance): Johnny Depp, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Colin Farrell, Johathan Rhys-Meyers, Brad Pitt, Renée Zellweger, Lucy Liu, Uma Thurman
Favorite TV shows: The Sopranos, Six Feet Under, Deadwood, Curb Your Enthusiasm, The L Word, Dead Like Me
Favorite color: blue, green, or purple
What Harry Potter House would I be in: Slytherin, definitely (you would be surprised how telling House Sorting can be)
What do I want to be when I grow up: I am actually thinking about foreign relations or international affairs or something
And we push onwards to dreaming...
"Imaginary" by Evanescence
I linger in the doorway
Of alarm clock screaming
Monsters calling my name
Let me stay
Where the wind will whisper to me
Where the raindrops
As they’re falling tell a story
In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me
Don’t say I’m out of touch
With this rampant chaos- your reality
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge
The nightmare I built my own world to escape
In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me
Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming
Cannot cease for the fear of silent nights
Oh how I long for the deep sleep dreaming
The goddess of imaginary light
And now that we actually have good poetry, time for me to paste some old ramblings I found in my computer Notebook diary:
I looked up at a star tonight,
And for a moment we were one.
Now I conceive a child of the star,
But it will be a pitch black,
For how can anything born of such tears
Have any hue but black?
It was born out of the void,
Into this world of nothingness.
But it will overcome itself
And show the world what it can do.
But I realize that I am the child.
Born of the void to the world of nothing.
And I wonder:
What will become of me
When my mother,
Me, myself,
Dies?
All that will be left is me
The tiny little black void
Born of a star and a tear
And my mother,
Me, myself,
Who will have died.
Shall I live on in honor of her, my, memory?
Who shall be my mother?
What shall I do for my mother's, my, funeral?
I shall make music and dance, for I will have died.
But still, I am still alive.
I will give birth to myself, so I will live on forever
In all my creations, I will be present.
No matter how hard they try, they will never rid themselves of the void I will have concocted.
My void will fill the earth.
They will speak of it for millenia.
That void, my void, will bring about
Everything.
I must go now, though. Dinner is ready. Until another day, friends. Namaste.
