Month: January 2012

  • Tweets for Posterity 98.

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    Twitter weather forecast: A cool, thoughtful breeze, gusting to laughter, with chance of chill shivers. Chance of tears, 30%.

    Bid farewell to our youngest girl, for when next we speak with Liaju… she will be a child no more.

    Looking down at the sleeping Liaju, Jalgar murmured, “I can, when it is needful. Let me play with my child, one last time.”

    Her large eyes, dusty green and wonderfully expressive, were filled with the authority that only comes from long experience.

    Her full lips curved in a barely noticeable smile, meant only for him.

    Mithial’s heart clenched at the fullness of the image. Even knowing mahahsee granted him this vision, he felt content.

    He chased in close pursuit, certain to catch her – and soon.

    Devastated, by desire.

    It couldn’t just be an accident, don’t you think?

    In every night, there are dreams.
  • Tweets for Posterity 97.

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    War’s place is in the righting of terrible wrongs, not the expansion of empire. #thought

    Inspiration is underrated, without it there is no incentive to strive for change. #thought

    Deeply held beliefs maintain the status quo, they do not incite improvement, they suppress dissent. #thought

    A warm heart, can cut the chill from a cold soul. #thought

    {JuliaGem} Julia, “Did you write Mortality’s short, sweet kiss?” Me, “Yes, why?” Julia, “It’s deep, and you’re as shallow as a kitty pool.”

    Our secret loves don’t change us, though they might well define us. #thought

    Eden’s inner demons cackled in a chorus of wicked glee.

    Discarded shame let him moan with each jarring impact of his bare knees.

    Reading, between the lies…

    In our turn a blind eye, close a deaf ear world, injustice abounds. #thought
  • Tweets for Posterity 96.

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    Does the holder of a dreamer’s true heart, even know the dreamer’s name? #thought

    My time, to step from time, finally draws near.

    That purring sound, and the look in his ancient eyes…

    All that it takes, for government to prevail, is for citizens to blithely echo the words “for the country”.

    Sleep: a fascinating, inexplicable, inescapable waste of time.

    Time: something whose passage the young dread, and the old regret.

    Firm set, on the decoy’s trail, southward.

    Their proximity let Mithial hear the sound of their clawed feet upon the earth, like droplets of heavy rain striking parched ground.

    Never again, would he relish that sound.

    Blood pumped from each, in unison with his thudding heart.
  • Tweets for Posterity 95.

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    We are as old as the dreams we dream. #thought

    Those are not hollow words, casually spoken, and offering shallow comfort.

    What measure, of success… by wealth, I find I’ve failed ~ by love, I’ve lived ~ by thought, aspired to much, and accomplished, naught.

    {JuliaGem} Julia, admonishing me for hurrying her, “You can’t rush perfection… that’s why I can rush you all I like.”

    Before him, the very air rippled as a wrinkled, colorless apparition appeared at the bank’s base

    Dislodged from Terror’s grasp, his eye found a symbol.

    Where all the others had been ageless, Jhan was ancient, trapped forever inside time’s flow.

    I have waited… waited too long, for this day.

    His ancient eyes held sadness, and the loneliness of the lost.

    How is it that, like with love, we can read a wretched sentence, and instantly be bound… So am I, to you, and wish so to forever remain.
  • Tweets for Posterity 94.

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    each curve of the three golden moons, in stark relief against blue heaven, the single star before them

    Full lips, bearing a smile, and the shape of his name

    Rethga drew a deep breath, relishing succor’s scent, and moved his head back. #malmaxa

    His twelfth mother smiled wide, at the rolling whisper that was her name.

    Walk with me, son of my daughter’s daughters.

    Perceiving a presence, he snatched his head up, to see a woman materialize from the mists

    Within it lay a pond, mirror-like in its stillness, and on its edge his first mother, Zunesan.

    Considering Sarah’s words, Rethga tasted within them a deeper truth.

    Mist, in still air.

    The breeze ruffling Sarah’s hair gusted north, thinning her vapor, which curled as the wind caught it.
  • Tweets for Posterity 93.

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    Nothing more than fodder, to feed war’s voracious hunger. #malmaxa

    If a picture is worth a thousand words, what is the price of a scent, or a sound? #thought

    Till, later, perhaps, my weekend will be full with editing… I might throw the scraps / gems twitter’s way. {you be the judge}

    A statue balanced on a boulder, frozen by sorrow’s chill breath.

    Is Malmaxa heavy, is lead light, do feathers fly? Are each of the above true? Wait another few days, and I’ll tell.

    While these tweets indicate I’m here, I’m more absent than present.

    Watching, more than participating. #thought

    Malevolent presence perceived, he spun toward it…

    Hunter gatherers are we, our eyes ever drawn to movement, and the danger it conceals. {going to have to mimimize Twitter, before I kill it!}

    …rudely wrenched from his flesh, leaving his wrist unadorned, and his soul more naked than clothing’s lack could ever make him.
  • Tweets for Posterity 92.

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    While the crowd applauded him for his honesty, Briar smiled in radiant reward.

    Whoever said, “You have to be cruel to be kind”, was probably a sadist.

    A heart relinquishing passion, withers. #thought

    Thoughts are always truth, though lies might gain life in their utterance.

    Looking up to her shorter twin, she felt pride’s glow.

    vanish, as quickly as morning’s mist before a summer sun.

    this is a harsh time, holiday highs, collapsing into a new year’s lows.

    so much pain, filling tender hearts with rain.

    Intellect, perceiving pain, must dissect and understand it before releasing it.

    Their lips’ caresses alleviated their mothers’ pain, long since passed, its impression undiminished by time.
  • Tweets for Posterity 91.

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    Words without bias, hold value greater than their sum. #thought

    My Godfather once told me swearing is the crutch of the conversational cripple. I must have taken him to heart, especially for written words

    So many people in twitter, who aren’t really people at all. #thought

    Dread: the day a conversation takes this form – My tweetbot’ll talk to yours, maybe they start a #trend. Gotta go, might miss something…

    Once wealth can purchase laws, society discards justice in favor of protecting possessions. #thought

    More concerned with justice, than law. #iam

    And now, it’s back to editing Malmaxa, for me. A poor man’s work is never done, a rich man’s, never begun.

    Empty hands offer the best caress. #thought

    Turning her mind from irrelevant thoughts of food, drink, and poor character, Ripkira reconsidered the day’s conflict. #malmaxa

    Though Ryntam’s figure commonly drew the secretive eyes of men, tonight few noticed her fine proportions… #malmaxa
  • Tweets for Posterity 90.

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    When others are as angry as me, the one who is most shocked, is I. #thought

    Huge, vertically slit pupils, calling… singing to his soul… deeds of glory, and tales… of his end.

    Though completely dried out, their six petals remained pristine.

    Since life is a metaphoric road, wouldn’t you like yours to wind through scenic hills? #thought

    Time flowed as slow as chill honey pours from a pot. #thought #malmaxa

    Harassed by demons, are men, serenaded by angels,women. #thought

    Guilt, and Conscience, chided her every step.

    Drab Guilt evicted glamorous Temptation.

    So… you are a thief, after all. But then, you always knew you were, didn’t you?

    Their duty, honorably discharged.
  • Tweets for Posterity 89.

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    Some of the best stories are the ones we create to fill the little voids of silence. #thought

    She stiffened, fright’s cold breath vanquishing tiredness in an instant.

    As beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, does a story not dwell in the ears of the listener? #thought

    Unable to look down, she instead stared into her mother’s eyes, her dream wrought confidence collapsed.

    For me the 1st day of 2013 has been good. 30 pages edited, untold tweets twittered, seeds of thought, reaped and sewn. The flu, waning. Nite

    Another day, to spend ~ would I could invest my time ~ instead of squandering it, on the eternal grind.

    More quotes from my editing of Malmaxa today – if they catch your eye, here’s a generous sample http://bit.ly/CGbMal1 Enjoy it!

    This left Faroene with nothing, save solitude, for company. #malmaxa {yes, solitude can be excellent company}

    Of life, less than forty paces remained.

    So much anger from my tweeting companions, and the day is merely the second in the year? This does not bode well for 2013.