C.G.Ayling

Month: January 2012

  • Tweets for Posterity 108.

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    Deception’s cloak lay over them, both.

    She felt no pain, just a strange, tightening tingle.

    I have just been informed my mind is a black void, where reason cannot hope to exist {my reasoning is different, perhaps}

    There they lay, cheek to cheek, as spent lovers might.

    Time had long since ceased its meaning, their heartbeats no longer counted its passage, instead beating an incoherent drum.

    Malevolent eyes examined her, anticipating her panicked, futile attempt to flee.

    Sanity regained, she clamped shut her mouth, stilled her unborn scream.

    #RVDC I’m tone-deaf, but I hear the drumbeat of my heart, and its irreverent rhythm.

    we’re torn apart / torn apart / that’s not meant to be / not meant for me, #RVDC

    Where talk takes two, speak is singular and needs no reply. #thought

  • Tweets for Posterity 107.

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    Stifling an urge to kick the fire’s blameless remains, she turned about…

    This is the path between the instant that is life, and the eternity of death.

    … the tears therein were those of love alone.

    Behind him, dragged unwilling to an undeserved fate, Eden followed.

    They were a flood flowing by, a river of darkness, on a moonless night.

    Judge a book by its contents, and a Twitter, by their Tweets.

    Wracked, by misery’s caress.

    truth must seem to be told, and be seen to be told.

    I would much rather give the point, than get it. #thought

    Thoughts so vile, they can but rile.

  • Tweets for Posterity 106.

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    #guncontrol. Guns aren’t evil, people are. Don’t punish the majority, prevent the minority. Felon, or Insane = no right to own a gun EVER.

    Editing is crawling, or I am, can’t figure out which it is. Eleven pages today. Twenty eight left…

    Such, is the cost of a ruse. #malmaxa

    Awake at three ~ set my mind free ~ it chooses its goal ~ fresh thoughts, to satisfy my soul.

    Moods, are not mistakes ~ feelings, are what define us ~ suppress either, at your peril.

    If the words we wear, are our wardrobe, each mood is a garment, in need of constant change. #thought

    Though the world is enormous, its people are more similar, than different. #thought

    Encapsulated within my anguished tear, is another memory, another prompt, another precious moment I can share… with him.

    In a rush Faroene’s earlier, callously spoken sentiment echoed loud, its voice an accusation in her ear.

    From bad, to terrible… to unthinkable. Far, far worse than ‘the worst’ she had so callously declaimed.

  • Tweets for Posterity 105.

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    OK! Enough fun and games, least for one morning. Work, my dominatrix mistress awaits, whip in eager hand. {sadly, I am no masochistic}

    I just made a "jump" page on my website, dedicated to Twitter. Links, and more links await you there… https://cgayling.com/malmaxa/twitter/ …

    a self-assured, proud person whose slate-gray eyes – while brooking no impertinence – were filled with compassion, intellect, and… humor?

    Discriminators: against gender, color, age, origin, religion, preference, or any other – once uncovered by your words, in my trash you go.

    If the words fit, wear them. #thought

    Until we wash dogma, of any kind, from our minds, we hold no hope of freedom. #thought

    From fall’s comfort, to winter’s cold clasp, in a day.

    More and more good Warriors do I send to likely death. Yet you thank me?

    …wondering what he had missed, and exactly how old girls were when they started taking pleasure in confounding men.

    After darkness falls, dream arise, and in them, lies our demise. #thought

  • Tweets for Posterity 104.

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    To work, not play, and thus to squander, another day. #thought

    I’m rather disgruntled, the vast majority of people are little more than indentured servants. #thought

    The best slaves, are those who think they’re free. #thought

    Ego, overtakes talent. #thought

    Pain casts a pall, on the brightest day. #thought

    Compel change.

    Government’s purpose, is serving its citizens. #thought

    Again tonight, will editing be my plight. Expect sequential snippets, ripped at random, from Malmaxa. #later

    Discomfort discolors another day. #thought

    Isn’t it strange how birds of a feather, find their flocks, and get together?

  • Tweets for Posterity 103.

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    As a ripple through the sea, my editing pen changes everything, yet when the wave passes, the ocean still remains, the same. #thought

    Memories, the paths that lead us back to what was, and away, to what might have been. #thought

    Lavish praise, far easier to heap upon another, than to bear. #thought

    Dissent, the dark fabric that binds our universe, while holding us separate. #thought

    Though Daniskira knew her twin lacked coin, she could not decry decorum.

    Pity finally softened Faroene’s voice, “There is always hope, Tian. Though it seems futile, we cling to it.”

    But to succumb beneath despair’s burden… at mere anticipation of death? Where is the purpose in that?

    With that, she broke into a trot, quickly moving ahead, leaving the warrior with her strange dignity, and her distress, intact.

    I am a fake! I never saw my ancestors, and they never showed me my symbol.

    40 pages left, and my editing is done. Perhaps tomorrow night, perhaps. #goodnight

  • Tweets for Posterity 102.

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    To every action, there is an inappropriate reaction. #thought

    Both seemed strangely subdued and continued to hold hands, apparently drawing strength through their touch.

    Grief was a complex emotion, best addressed with calm, and an approachable ear.

    Danger is not your domain, as tending the injured is not ours.

    it seemed warriors held tender emotions in low esteem.

    Strong emotions, tender or not, should be allowed to surface, and escape.

    If they were worthy they could be easily recaptured, if not… well, then there was no loss with their release.

    Would you rather awaken, wide-eyed and fearful, or slack jawed, and drooling?

    Kulienne’s parents, paying more heed to their daughter than Daniskira’s words, and evidently expecting such shameful behavior, caught her.

    Listen to your heart, but don’t let it drown your mind.

  • Tweets for Posterity 101.

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    I do what must be done, to undo what should not be.

    In your eyes, I see the lie within your words.

    How does deliberately hiding the truth differ from a lie?

    Throwing up your hands, and walking away, is not always the best way. #thought

    Wisdom is seldom as simple as it first appears. #thought

    I hope to see five surly men, soon. Yet I fear we will not.

    There might be more to that little man than his stature revealed.

    Setting great store in decorum’s trivialities, the womenfolk shared a brief smile of approval.

    Temper tantrums, and hissy-fits, a great way to not get your way.

    Either join us, and be civil – or remain surly, and go back to bed, where you shall stay till noon!

  • Tweets for Posterity 100.

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    Forgive me for not really being here, pressure builds, as time dwindles.

    His voice’s volume lent him authority.

    They appeared eager to hear how she might refute this assertion of undeniable truth.

    Though Liaju struggled to remain within the dream, it was too late – she had already escaped slumber’s domain.

    The foreign thought, ‘I… am Dragon. You… are prey.’

    Gazing into the Dragon’s eye, Selene spoke her name again, “Thirihshhastra.” The joy within its sound brought back her smile.

    Physical touch, prohibited, yet to be touched with words, we treasure. #thought

    Daniskira? A beautiful name, worthy of Dragon. It rolls… like thunder in a distant storm.

    Selene, I would linger with you here. We could watch the river’s flow and perceive the changes in its depth, together.

    This would be an eternity of joy fulfilled, for your every thought brings me delight.

  • Tweets for Posterity 99.

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    music, wrings the heart.

    Reclarient: a word from my youth, now seemingly lost. To give the claimer of a truth pause, as they find doubt in their own words.

    It was Eden’s turn for disbelief now, and she looked at Selene in wide-eyed astonishment.

    Though she hated the timorous tone of her voice, it was too late – she had already exposed herself to her cousin’s ridicule.

    Releasing her held breath, she reasserted her authority by creasing her brow, as if weighing the merit of Selene’s offer.

    Eden gingerly picked out the other blossom, confused that Doubt’s strident warnings might be nothing, save echoes of Shame’s goading.

    Sudden, certain knowledge they were in grave danger filled her.

    A scream of abject terror choked out, barely audible, little more than a hoarse gasp.

    #goodnight Failed to meet my editing goal for the day, by 5 miserable pages, hoped you’ve enjoyed the hints of anguish unleashed. #tomorrow

    Though it is the thought that counts, it’s the expression of it that has real value. #thought