^{&David Astrid;}

_{"Most modern calendars mar the sweet simplicity of our lives by reminding us that each day that passes is the anniversary of some perfectly uninteresting event." -Oscar Wilde}

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^{o⋅rig⋅i⋅nal⋅i⋅ty /əˌrɪdʒəˈnælɪti/ [uh-rij-uh-nal-i-tee]}
_{1. the ability to think or express oneself in an independent and individual manner; creative ability.
Originality is the aspect of created or invented works by as being new or novel, and thus can be distinguished from reproductions, clones, forgeries, or derivative works. An original work is one not received from others nor one copied based on the work of others.The term "originality" is often applied as a compliment to the creativity of artists, writers, and thinkers.}

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^{What is Art? I am.}
_{I could tell you that art plays a large part in making our lives infinitely rich. Imagine, just for a minute, a world without art! (You may think "So what?", but please consider the impact that lack of graphics would have on your favorite video game.) Art stimulates different parts of our brains to make us laugh or incite us to riot, with a whole gamut of emotions in between. Art gives us a way to be creative and express ourselves. For some people, art is the entire reason they get out of bed in the morning. You could say "Art is something that makes us more thoughtful and well-rounded humans." On the other hand, art is such a large part of our everyday lives, we hardly even stop to think about it. Look at the desk or table where you are, right this minute. Someone designed that. It is art. Your shoes are art. Your coffee cup is art. All functional design, well done, is art. So, you could say "Art is something that is both functional and (hopefully) aesthetically pleasing to our eyes." You might say "Art is in a constant state of change, so nobody can really pin down what it is." The constant change part is true, but the not pinning it down part is going to get you a bad grade. It may even raise a comment or two about your being some sort of wisenheimer. Don't go this route. You might even say "Art is subjective, and means something different to every single person on earth." This, too, is the truth. I would caution against this approach, however, as it would require a stack of paper from here to the moon to cite all of your 6.3 billion references. However,art has a strong connection to perfection.}

^{What is Perfection? I am.}
_{My life is Pure. Perfectly Unique Radiant Elite. I enjoy every moment of it. My line is high quality lifestyle.I'm the only one of my kind. I ooze beauty, elegance and courageousness. I love temptation,sensuality and passion. I want to live in Vienna or Paris. For me, these places will ensure the level of life what I want to live. Yes, it's about this 'sickness'. But for me, it is beautiful, passionate, and for sure, not tractable. Oh, I almost forgot about comments and stuff. Well, I'm a very talkative person, I admit that. About music...I'm very eclectic. For me, this is diversity. You will never be able to see and feel what I feel. Ever.}

^{What is passion? I am.}
_{But what is that? Passion is a gift of the spirit combined with the totality of all the experiences we've lived through. It endows each of us with the power to live and communicate with unbridled enthusiasm. Passion is most evident when the mind, body and spirit work together to create, develop and articulate or make manifest our feelings, ideas and most sacred values. Passion enables us to overcome obstacles, both real and imagined. And to see the world as a place of infinite potential. The passionate spirit looks at every occurrence and discovers the golden kernels of what can be, what should be and what will be. Passion has its own energy -- an energy that's observable and transferable. Best of all, you can't fake it. Almost anyone, with only a bit of intuitiveness, can spot the charlatan. We can smell the lying wolf. We can sense a lack of sincerity, authenticity and depth. We can inhale the bitter, infectious dryness of the imposter's soul. That's precisely why passion is a powerful litmus in determining the authenticity of an individual, an organization, a product or service. It supersedes the allure of expensive clothing and luxury vehicles. It makes transparent the hyperbole of the marketing gnomes and branding banshees. It strips away the thin veneer that separates what is said and what really is. The power of passion forces us to see others as who they are, who they are becoming and often, who they can never be. Many men and women run from personal and professional passion because they're afraid of being burned. Past relationships that ended in searing pain. Trusts and confidences that were betrayed. Risk that lead to reprimand. Grand visions that suffocated beneath the heavy pillows of nays sayers, soulless logic and overzealous egos. Consequently, they're afraid of taking the risks that come with living life to its fullest. Most people have touched the fringes of true passion, if only for the briefest moments, at the most unexpected junctures in their lives. They've inhaled the aroma of chance and caressed themselves with the rich lather of genuine affection. Until they pricked themselves on the thorns of that desire and intensity -- and fled at the sight of the warm crimson blood bubbling to the edges of their virgin fingertips.}
                 
^{Who is your dream? I am.}
_{Calling in the night your voice drifting in my mind. seductive. sensual. the voice of darkness. velvety smooth, whispering comfort as my soul is torn, between obligation to life and your eminent love. your vampire eyes looking at me and knowing knowing how much i long for you how much i hunger for your touch to feel a moment of pain, then Eternity in your arms. my vampire lover waiting at my window sill piercing eyes blazing with the fire of hunger and desire waiting for me and i run to you to the sheer ecstasy of your bite. my cry of pain muffled by your stark white palm your body growing warm nourished by my blood as my heart grows dim. then, you pull away and turn me to face you a trickle of blood on your pale lips. you raise your wrist to me and with misted eyes you hold me as i drink from you drink your blood with passion burning, caressing, changing me. sweeping me into the night arms holding me tight my vampire lover with brilliant green eyes taking me away forever to be with her my lover, my master, forever, till the end.}

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Name: David Cooke. Alias: Darko, Astrid, Aaron Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 19 years young. Birthday: The 18th day of April, in the year 1990. Hair: Brown Eyes: Brown Height: 5'8" Weight: 145 lbs Blood Type: O+ Status: Involved More: I've always thought my personality mimicked the Lion. It has the unmistakable presence of nobility. Moving with the unruffled calm of a cat and the dignified gait of someone in command, I have no need to walk or talk quickly since I'm never in danger of being ignored or marginalized. Every now and then, I will play to its gruff reputation with unsheathed claws. But underneath it all I'm just an old soul always up for seeking more wisdom.

<sup>So.......you want to dive inside in the mind of an artist do you?
A deep and endless sea of confusion and inspiration…can you feel the pressure?
Desire.......yeah, if I had to choose one word to depict what I am it would be that, in its totality.
Rock beats paper. Desire beats guilt. Desire beats…everything.
But it is from my heart, not my mind that my desire comes from.

They are split up, as is my heart.

Though the desires that I will speak of are few, they are vast in importance and meaning to me.
Some will frighten you…others may intrigue you.

Love is one desire I don’t have to worry about paying too much attention to.
Love has no desire but to fulfill itself. 
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
And my love runs like a fertile river for a few select people.


[.::Lights Out::.]
You have taught me that love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction.
Each day I love you more…today more than yesterday and less than tomorrow.
You inspire me to see…to open my eyes to whole new worlds that I would have otherwise been afraid to discover.
For your love is as much a light as it is a flame. *kisses your neck softly*
Your Going To Keep My Soul...It Was Yours To Have Long Ago.

Love is a sweet tyranny, because the lover endureth his torments willingly. ~Proverb</sup>



more coming soon.

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<sub>"A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer.... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it. A poet utterly clear is a trifle glaring." ~E.B. White

 
       

Boy: Lets sail away.


Girl: On the wind or the water?
Through the stars or the sea?
Shall we see foreign lands?
Or dance amongst the heavens?

Boy: we’ll just follow the horizon
Wherever that takes us.

Girl: but what if it takes us into a storm?
where the sun is veiled and moon doesn't shine?

Boy: then we will unveil our strength to Poseidon and
sail the monstrous waves until he sees that we will never stop reaching for that horizon.

Girl: would you stay by me if I feared the waves?

Boy: of course my love...
and I’d show you that with me you will never have anything to fear.

Girl: Then lets sail…
~Written by [.::Lights Out::.] and [Astrid.]


"Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:-
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with cofeee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

...

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas."T.S. Eliot - the Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock
Thank you [Foreign Exchange.]


Do You Feel It?
Running down your neck,
cascading over your shoulders,
traveling over forbidden areas,
coarsing down your legs,
sliding over your ankles,
and then pooling at your feet.
Do you feel it?
~Written by [Triplet2]


Your face is like an exquisite painting,
Your body a delicate sculpture.
Your smile shines as bright as the brightest star.
Your eyes are as deep as the ocean,
Holding your soul.
I can go on to describe you,
But you should know how perfect you are.
Can you see how much I love you?
Is it obvious yet?
I have come to discover that I can't be without you.
The longer I'm away from you,
The worse I feel.
If you leave,
My sun will set.
"I can't be without you"~Written by [Triplet2]


I dreamed of meeting you before I met you.
I predicted I'd meet someone new.
Someone who would change my life for the better.
It must have been fate that we met that day,
Because now I can describe the perfection that is you.
Your eyes and hair are pitch-black like obsidian.
Dark eyelashes caress soft skin.
Lips come together in perfect formation.
You have a face angels would be envious of.
You are unique in your own special way.
You are the snake charmer,
And I the snake.
We are powerful magnets,
Pulling to each other with a great force.
You are my dawn,
My new light.
It must have been fate.
"It Must Have Been Fate"~Written by [Triplet2]


Did I make the right decision?

Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions...

...And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair...

...Do I dare  
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse...

And in short, I was afraid.~Written by [Foreign Exchange.]


This is about how he could never be with the
only 'A' that could 'B' his 'C'.
Couldn't bare to leave him but had no problem depleting me
of my 'D' and 'E' went straight to 'F' and eelings.

I tried to tell her it's your love I want to earn, but she turned
said she couldn't open another can of worms.
I was fish bait to her, now I sit, face buhda
I see through her, I guess you live and you learn.

This is about how he could never please her
ease her- mind, paint it black, she my easel.
Better yet shes my canvas
Just trying to figure out how to care for this heart I've been handed.

Now I'm stranded...abandoned.
A man with no sense of worth, I'm a bandit.
You never gave that slack, Now I'm fallen in love
And there is no way you can take that back. -Welcome To Heartbreak- by: [Astrid.]</sub>

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pastkeepers art contest 10 days of photography @#%$! abbey dawning astro supporters cafe rondine children of the gods cillamoon's stock images dark one desert island discs desire or disaster donors earth easterlings veranda elftown memes epiphany eve. house zappers hyde's illusion i am the very model of a... i am what i fear i dedicate my candle to Keyword photography competition mrs. robinson your trying to seduce me non-images once upon a time.... painting the roses red preaching poetry prima donnas of the gutter show me your poker face the end is here the lexi fan club the lighthouse the many faces of cap'n black the phantoms book tristania satanica we are the children of the gods where the apple fell which font are you

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<sub>While there is perhaps a province in which the photograph can tell us nothing more than what we see with our own eyes, there is another in which it proves to us how little our eyes permit us to see. ~Dorothea Lange

"Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.
Each day has enough trouble of its own." -Matthew 6:34-

Fin.</sub>
[#]
North Adams