Wednesday, July 29, 2009

An update blog of sorts.

I've been back from Japan for two days or so now, and it's been quite a culture shock. I left my newly bought camera on the flight from Tokyo to London, and they want me to pick it up from London 'cause they're silly like that, so I'm gonna get my uncle to pick it up, which means I won't be able to put up any photos until I get my camera back, so sorry for that. Moving on.

Japan was truly amazing. The cities are so clean and interesting and diverse and the countryside is breathtakingly beautiful and quite otherworldly. I had such a great time and bought so much stuff (mostly phone charms. so cuuute!). It was nice getting to practise my broken Japanese though and brilliant getting to experience their exquisite culture. We were in Tokyo, Kyoto, Hiroshima and a little town called Kumano, which is outside Hiroshima and is where 80% of Japanese Calligraphy brushes are made (by hand). I'll write another blog about some of my experiences there, but this is just a short update.

I, like so many others, am a huuuge Harry Potter fan (although, I hate the kid himself. Malfoy ftw!), so I really wanted to see the film at midnight and dress up as a wizard and just be a general fangirl; but I was in Tokyo when it was released so Im only getting to see it today. I'm so excited I started to cry when I was booking the tickets ('cause I'm cool, right?), and I know I'll enjoy it no matter whether it's good or bad.

Here're some Wrock (Wizard Rock- i.e. Harry Potter Fan Music) related links that I think you should check out.

Some amazing Wrock Bands:

Some awesome Youtubers Wrock songs:

Sorry this blog sucked, but I felt like giving an update and whatnot.
Oh! And I'm gonna cut my hair and maybe dye it blue.
Best wishes.
Love, Shling.x

Monday, July 27, 2009


She lay in a damp motel room. Sprawled out. The dim naked light bulb throwing a shadow of light across the room. The wallpaper strips worn down to reveal rotting wood in some places, protected by years of sickly yellow tobacco smoke in others. There lay upon the bedside locker a lamp, it's pink lampshade hiding the smashed bulb within, the remaining glass shards clinging to the fixture, it hadn't given light in near twenty years but noone would put it out of it's misery. Beside the lamp sat a frost glass ashtray, cigarette butts and piles of ash built up. Under the bed lay bottles that had yesterday held $2 wine, they now held nothing but the remnants of a Wednesday night spent trying to forget the evening preceding it. A rusty bucket beside the bed held a month's nights of vomit.
The bedside locker was empty except the first drawer. A tattered bible sat there, worn but covered in dust. Placed there by Gideons for her and other lost souls to reach out to it. but it had lain unused for years. Maybe it longed desperately for love, maybe it longed to forgive her acts, her sins, her failures, her thoughts; but it doesn't matter, 'cause the drawer was shut and she was unconcious.
The door was locked from the inside by a chain lock, the key lock long torn out. It was room 206, on the second floor.
A scrawny, bruised and battered pale leg dangled from the bed, the foot caked in dirt and dry blood.
The curtains were drawn to the outside world, no light seeped through; it was winter and the sun had yet to rise.
On the floor lay an old-fashioned black phone that connected only with reception.
Her right arm blocked the dead light from reaching her tired sleeping eyes. Her nails were short, dirty and yellow, her hands were long, thin and beautiful, her knuckles were scarred, purple and swollen.
Her left arm lay by her side, palm facing the ceiling.
A bathrobe, stockings and a dress lay strewn across a wooden chair by the door.
She wore no clothes, not even underwear, just a thin ratty mustard-yellow blanket that barely protected her modesty; not that it mattered, noone was watching, not that she cared anyway, though.
She lay in this way, dead but for her lungs shallow breathing until a knock on the door broke the musty silence. She woke hazily and pushed herself into a standing position. She reached for the robe and mechanically went to the door, and opened it without undoing the chain.
there stood a middle-aged man squeezed into dirty overalls and a stained wife-beater. He reeked like she did: the whiskey, tobacco, sweat.
Upon seeing him she undid the chain. He grunted as she derobed and shut the door.

But don't feel sorry for her. She's as guilty as he is. Well, that's what we've been told. She's dirty and deserves what she gets. Filthy little slut.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

An update and a poem. ♥♥

I'm going to Japan next week. I can't wait, I love the Japanese and everything about them and their culture. I'm a big Otaku. I used to draw manga loads, but I haven't the past two years; I started up again recently though, so if I get my scanner working I'll try to upload some of them, maybe.
Happy Fourth of July. I'm going to the US at the end of August, actually.
Here's something I wrote. It's a poem, I guess? Not really though.
Sorry I haven't been updating at all, btw. x

Are my eyes open, or are they closed?
Am I seeing, dreaming, imagining?

floating through the air.
On my back;
arms, legs outstretched,
fingers spread.

My eyes are open.
But am I seeing, dreaming, imagining?

Clusters of colours:
blues, yellows, greens, oranges, purples, reds, pinks;
every shade, every mix, everywhere.

Fleeting glimpses of people
walking, smiling;
laughing, running;
crying, screaming.
Far off, out of focus, silent;
to the side.

My eyes are closed.
But am I seeing, dreaming, imagining?

Rays of light coming though windows.
Windows everywhere,
I can't see them.
The room black,
the light shining,

Figure running towards me,
suit, hat,
polished shoes,
tie flowing,
leaning forward,
in a rush;

Stops dead, drops arms.
Elbows lift upwards,
one to his eyeline,
Other to his waist,
his arms follow,
and then his hands,
he starts to spin and twirl,
no longer there.

My eyes are gone.
Removed perhaps, holes remain.
But am I seeing, dreaming, imagining?
Indefinate shapes all around,
a faint watercolour.

A woman,
flowing skirt,
Looks at me,
tips over,
drops out of my vision;

Ellicott City.

These are some photos I took in Ellicott City, near Baltimore, Maryland, in the USA.

I went editing crazy. And most of them were taken late at night, so sorry. I'm only including three, but I'll put up more in a different post, I think.
Ellicott City is a beautiful place. It's a tourist town, really; but I love it all the same. All the shops there are very old-fashioned, they have that 'vintage' feel to them, and they all sell the most random eclectic assortment of goods, mostly the kind of stuff that you don't need but want.
The cafe there sells lovely coffee and cake and they have this ancient machine that roasts coffee beans, well at least it used to; it's just for show these days. There're signs all over the walls, like in Eddie Rockets except they're authentically old and for sale. One of my favourite things about the cafe is the menus, because they say in the most beautiful type, on the bottom, in not quite so many words, 'We have WiFi, but please leave your laptop home this weekend and talk to your neighbours. They're lovely people and I'm sure they'd enjoy your company'. I thought that was just so lovely. There's also the most amazing Victorian-style tea room, the china there is exquisite.
There's a small train museum there. I didn't go in, because my father could tell you more about trains then any guide. He loves steam trains, simply adores them; when he was younger he used to hop them. He'd go for miles across the country, holding on to the back of a caboose. He has some unbelievable stories, I convinced him to write them down; so he's started to write a memoir. We walked a few miles on the tracks around Ellicott City, which I love doing; It's on the B&O railway: Baltimore and Ohio.
There's an exquisite bakery there with beautiful bread, although I don't like the sweet bread you get in the States much.
There's this one store dedicated to fairies and the like. It's three stories high. On the top floor there's a piano that plays on it's own and a costume place with the most amazing costumes, some from the 1940's.
Ellicott City's built on a hill. It has an interesting history, really. It's right on a river and every hundred years or so, the place gets wiped out by floods. I just looked it up on wikipedia(,_Maryland ), and apparently it's haunted. It does have a creepy feel to it, I admit. It feels so empty and fairytale-esque, like it's not real and noone really lives there. It's so 'American Dream', in a way, like it's the sort of place that upper-middle-class families go to for a Sunday outing. It has the air of a place repressed, with a dark secret.
More on this later.