Shades of Obsidian
Cave Quid Dicis Et Quand. Sed Ante Omnia, Quícum
Recent Entries 
11th-Sep-2010 12:50 am - Apathy
A quick post to warm up for the (locked) other post.
Remember that this is fiction, i will be very sad if people distance themselves from me just cos i write about apathy.
(who doesn't experience apathy anyway)
Interpretation is FFA, as always. Comments, R&R, are welcomed.
(I don't wish to remain writing the same standard of drivel all my life)


 She says she understands.
Dismissing others so carelessly seeming.
Her emotions are calm and bland.

 There is no sense of sympathy,
Or even empathy.
Such is the capacity lacking.
What is it that is flawed? Is something missing?
There are no dreams; no lingering desires remain.

 Her self, corrupted by a responsibility to her bonds.
Undergoes a lifetime of experiences
Finding at the end of its journey
Salvation in logical understanding possessed all along

 Acceptance, reconciliation;
 Guilt laid finally to rest
She does not care.

29th-Aug-2010 10:28 am

lol. A small non-emo piece. ^_^
Written while listening to NTU Hall4's lipdub. (Auqa - Cartoon Heroes)
I really <3 bridge  So play bridge must jio =D
LF uni bridge kakis. Hopefully staying in Hall (4) then can play until damn late LOL

False impressions and outright lies.

Sly glances hidden behind a suspicious smile.

Dare I trust him?

I throw out another feint,

Feigning knowledge, buying time.

Amused laughter from her,

Silence of others in deep thought.

The atmosphere is so tense.

Yet light-hearted at the same time.

Have I made the right decision?

Is he deliberately letting me win?

Where is my Ace of Spades?





21st-Jul-2009 06:15 pm - omg. So emo. ahahaha.

Ahahaa~ It's been so long since I last posted something remotely poetic.
So here's one.
I quite like MH. She's one of my favourite fictional people.
The most fave one that I never got to use in any RP.I think Imma let it remain that way ^^
And here's something that I think MH would look like. Very red, she is.
But with more black. I've drawn her before, but she's not a charrie who looks nice without inking. >_<

Oh, those tiles,
Dark lines of dirt ingrained between,
Making the white even more blindingly so.
It hurts her eyes,
Even more than the image in the mirror.
Looking back at her with this expression,
That she can't make it out.

She covers the image with darkness,
Immersing herself  in her semi-static surroundings instead.
The sound of running water, flowing without cease.
Pooling around her hand, disappearing into more darkness.

She's surrounded in it,
Pouring out of her lungs, seeping from her skin.
The slime suffocates her, 
Choking her breaths,
Making her heady with an unacknowledged emotion.

Her thoughts aren't quite getting through the haze of emotions.
Falling, spiraling.
Slipping away into the darkness.
Losing her identity...Who am I?

—She resurfaces.
Eyes scalded once more by her reflection in the water.
All at once, the image brings it all back.
The return to reality.

This feeling of lightness disappears;
She wishes it would stay instead.
The weight of life is so heavy.
It's as if her body's being crushed.
Outside forces pushing ever harder on an already-empty husk.

She doesn't fall to pieces, however. Instead, she chooses to smile. Crying and wailing won't do anything but win her some pity. She doesn't want pity. The Mad Hatter isn't something to be pitied. So she laughs. Full of glee and joy and ecstasy are those noises coming from her mouth. The Mad Hatter doesn't know any other emotion than joy. And what a cold joy it can be sometimes; sharpening her laugh, widening her smile, devouring her soul.

"Ahahahaa~ Fools, all!"
30th-Apr-2009 09:54 pm - Cognitive Dissonance.
First time trying to express myself (my thoughts/feelings on the things that have transpired) in an extremely ambiguous way. lol
In case some of you haven't realised, I'm an extremely angst-filled teenager.
Must remind myself to be happy.
Well, I found a working version of Togainu No Chi :D
Awesome for me ^^

Flat, quiet, motionless.
As still as death.

 Tremors ripple just below the surface, a deep underwater current.
It doesn't show, the self-control assures that.
The surface remains calm.

 Behind a facade of stillness lies turmoil.
Agitation that refuses to die down.

Agito—to move.

Refusal to remain stationary,
but be in constant motion.
 Churning urges and impulses of unknown depth,
Hidden beneath the stillness.

A false front of apathy.
I don't really care.

 Crush the chains that tie down!

Break free of the spider's web!
Tear off the cloth that blinds the eye and stifles the mouth!

 Where are your fangs that rend?
Your claws that rive?

 Have they grown dull from disuse?
Have they fractured?



The face is still.
Such cold eyes that looked back.
Hiding a blazing inferno within.

Slowly, surely, with familiar and practiced movements, her fingers roam her face once again. This time they push gently against the skin, prodding, nudging. Her face still remains. But she feels it; the tiny fractures that lie beneath the skin, the muscles, the bones. Her fingers continue to move, lazily distractedly at times, skittering across the surface at others.

Then just as abruptly as how the panic had spilled forth from her, her movements still. But only for a while, just to find her persona and slip it on. It is her, and at times, she is it. she is the Mad Hatter, the one who borders on insanity, and crosses it.

She is the Mad Hatter more than anything else. Her laughter echoes as her screams do. She cries not, but her cheeks always bear the marks of tears. She surrounds herself with a web of lies; she herself is a lie. But since each lie has a grain of truth, and since everyone believes the lie that is her, she is true.

She is the Mad March Hare; the Mad Hatter. Her laughter is empty, and so is she.
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