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Fear is poignant and wonderful. The
want to cry out of fear is what is left of what we never had.
tremble Fear is the shattering of everything we believe. And we do not believe.
Screaming for fear is to be tired of believing.
Escape to fear is to be mortal and scarred by the world.

To be afraid is wonderful, endless, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful and eternal.


[Is a thrill, a cure,
serenity and fear,
courage and adventure] *
* [Black]

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Monochrome

- In this world there is no two days are alike.
Changing the things you want to eat, and you'll never see the same clouds in the sky.
also the day that you die, this is just . Enjoy it well.
It 's a very important day, at least the one where you were born.
I remember the day when you're dead . Until I die again I also . -
[DOGS - Shiro Miwa]

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Question # 4 ~ KO

And if We are not tired now we will never tire.

And if I were upset instead?

Knock Out

Stop To Stop Your Feet From Burning

Absente - Yann Tiersen

If those notes had been consumed in the mine only pencil I would have also accepted.
But I was there there, to become ash in the late of those memories. Deja vu-a clumsy, that I would live several times and tear.
's strange to see when there is non-painful. The knowledge to be just a passenger wind between those minds.
And to say that I knew it would end the story well. E ' a choreography of which I know the steps by heart, it's always nice to live it. Until
disappear from the scene. We

cigarettes to be consumed. E-
Please pray that god will have no chafing that could last a little longer. To catch him.

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Question # 3 ~ Skyscraper

Skyscraper, a top name. A great name.
A name that has to touch the sky need to scratch, and to stand up to rest their feet on the rock. We are also
skyscrapers? We
disfigured, happiness, to touch in some way?

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Welcome to my blog

Reviews of the most important Italian web sites by category.
Coming soon ...

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Dedication

With a little 'hard work, and with the indispensable help of Carla (Narcissa 63) , I can finally post a shottina and dedicate it to Letizia (Hikaru Ryu) .
Ultimately, it is thanks to her that I started reading fanfiction outside of Harry Potter. How could I not dedicate the first to write about Sherlock Holmes? And just for the record, this is the fanfiction of the previous post. Yeah, that was born in Pisa on the way to mass.

At this point, I can only hope she likes it ^ _ ^

Oh, and of course I say thanks to Carla taaaanti: betaggio a super fast and efficient ** (and very colorful XD)
The story I have published also on ' EFP and F & B . It is not hard to find .. The nick is there too ^ ^ SweetKaaos

*

Fandom: Sherlock Holmes ;
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes / John Watson;
Rating: G / Green;
Genre: Introspective, Romance;

"T he V IoLine"

For me it's impossible not to notice the absence of the violin, in our living room. A few days ago, you came to me and you have announced, with your usual friendly way of doing:
"My dear Holmes, you can not persist in playing with a broken string. For more of your bow is worn and barely horsehair will remain immobilized "Then remove gently from your hands, you have continued:
" You'll have to do without it for a while '. I carry it with me "
Suddenly I felt an unpleasant sensation, like a cold hand to his throat stringesse me cruelly, just when my fingers were losing, against their will, the power tool ...
distract gaze from the table to escape this nagging memory, and I am still here, alone, while the absence of the violin destroys the beauty of the evening and kills my serenity, invites you to fall back into destructive habit that you could almost make me leave. Now, however, the polished morocco case is once again acquiring a strong attraction for my spirit felt

Forgive me, my thoughtful Watson, but at this point I'll give you another sorrow. Tomorrow I'll regret it, I'm sure, but right now I do not think being able to help myself. I just have to find a new hiding place sure, that your love for me has brought you to conceal the much deprecated object. Your thoughtful attempts to keep me away from my flaw tear me a smile, as yet another attack on the message box I've just discovered.

"Do not do it"

guard in wooden case even this tiny card. I apologize again, my faithful Watson, but you still disobey. You left without telling me where you were going and I hope that you decide to go home right now, while I prepare the syringe and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. However, the sound of footsteps on the stairs caught my attention immediately after the drawing-room door opens and, wincing, I see you standing in the doorway with his case in his hands. Your expression suddenly darkens, noticing what I'm doing.

"Holmes ..."

I know what you think. I know you well: you feel betrayed after yet another promise. Without taking my eyes from yours, I put the syringe in the box, before I get up and go that extra mile.

"Try again. It was all too easy to find, "he says with a quiet voice.

I am my old care - the more painful and damaging my health - and in the meantime I pulled the violin case from her fingers. Without looking, I approach and step over the fireplace. There is no other, we are just you and me. While supporting the instrument on the table I hear your footsteps on the floor, the creaking axle cracked near the library, and finally plume caused by the sinking of your body in the chair. I smile secretly.

"You want something that sounds?" I ask calmly.

In the evenings preceding the violin was not present among us, and our talk had become so thin by also oppress me, often shy away from sharing my thoughts. In past days the silence had been the constant, most of all had disturbed my mind. But now the violin is back, and feel the cold hand loosen its grip around my neck while I position the instrument and cascading strings that have to be replaced.

"Like every morning, Holmes. I do not expect another "shadow serene.

I know I've already forgiven ... you have a big heart, my irreplaceable Watson, a man strong enough to withstand stubborn and uncooperative as I am. I put the instrument on his shoulder and starts to execute the first melody that comes to my mind, allowing her to guide my fingers. More on that technique, I prefer to focus my attention on you and the feelings that music can give me, mixing, and living each note until the end. Every night I look this magical moment, only to see the birth of that special smile on your lips - that I'm sure you realize the show - while sound only for you. Finally, the fingers of ice that takes my breath away have vanished altogether, leaving just a vague memory of their past presence.

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Trains ... And here I am inspired

What can I say: stop the Pisa central station, waiting for the train (late) potermene to go home. Pisa was in the middle of a blizzard ... too cold and too windy. What all this with the central subject of the post?
but simply sitting on the cold marble wall of the station, at track 6, I pulled out a notebook and a pen - bought travel to Feltrinelli because I realized that I did not even have a back, and I needed instead of it - I get lost in looking at the paper and start writing something.

That something continues to come out during all 40 minutes by train until they arrive at their center mass. I close all running in the bag and throw my things down and start at home.

lunch, and now resent the desire to write, to write the first book in Word to correct and finish this little piece that I have described. But it must have been the day of creativity for me, because while I was "Information technology and production of literature" (you know, this matter has a huge title XD but it is beautiful .. I like ) I had an idea for later the events of my HP fanfiction, "Diamond" . Poor but it is beautiful, very exciting (in my opinion .. then who knows) but will have to wait a long time 'before being published because otherwise the four cats that follow you ruin the ending XD Diamond I, well or worse, I have the whole story in mind so I will not spoil anything, but they are. EH oh well ... Remain in the folder and wait for the conclusion of my first long.

*

I have a surprise to be done. I hope you like it and this person. If you do not like it, it means that I'll have to make commitment to improve and be able to thank as they should, with an appropriate tribute ^ ^ * * *

I still have doubts on how to use the LJ ... Slowly, sifting, I can understand a little more ^ ^ For now I use that is similar (if not completely identical) to that of a blog. But that's okay, right? To me it is fine, and I must say - now I come to write this - I missed having one. A place of my own, to write and not worry. I'm happy, I like it.

And now, late at leisure.

I'm going to do something, given that until now has been a busy day and I could make my little ^ ^

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honestly do not know what to say, but since I did a grind until now to understand how add friends on LJ, or how you set up a layout and things like that, a little post to be made (because I want to see change in the layout and where things appear when you publish). Fine words true?
habit ... I am a lover of nonsense when I'm in front of a keyboard. Here is one of the reasons why I started writing fanfiction, I know people who - coincidentally - have suggested that I create me an account on LJ.

Well well ... What can I say. None. For the moment it becomes a post .. uhm .. welcome? Yes, I would say welcome. Although they are usually others to say, not who comes. But you can not call for the submission because, after all, I'm not saying anything relevant.
I have to say that a little 'I missed this style of writing, where I can not think of how the shape, or scribble something random ... I had a blog for three years, maybe four, and the Web still exists, but is one of many pages that are - inevitably - a forgotten link in that few people know. And I will: it is a closed chapter with the abandonment of that page.

Well, here I am.
I wish a good day to all ..

E lly

PS: I leave you with the photo of the cake I made today: my first experiment. I usually wrestling with the tiramisu (and I are very good). Do not be fooled: it is not scorched. It 's just a bit' too golden, but it's pretty good soft (I've already tried it XD)

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Rosaceae / Agrimonia [Glee]

Title: Rosaceae / Agrimonia
Fandom: Glee
Rating: PG
Word Count: 585 (GoogleDocs)
Summary: Brad has some idea of asking how do I know his name, as who has given a lot to do so was not known by anyone, but let it go when they notice suspicious glitter in the eyes of Suzie Pepper. Search in vain to remember which were the basic rules to follow in case of encounter of the third kind with mentally unstable individuals.



Rosaceae / Agrimonia

He just pulled his chair pushed back to get up and leave the rehearsal room - reflecting on the new gossip of the day to put in a circle - when Suzie Pepper check in front of him. Out of nowhere.

"Um," he says, because it is not exactly aware of the label to follow when you find yourself in front of the abuser adolescent obsessive-compulsive probably William Schuester.

A harassment of adolescent obsessive-compulsive William Schuester.

Suzie Pepper has given a very convincing face. "I need a favor, Brad," and if you do not already know all the sordid past of Suzie Pepper with William Schuester begin hours in a cold sweat. He does not know whether it is better that he began in a cold sweat since he realized that the shadow belonged to him aleggianteglisi Suzie Pepper.

Brad has some idea of asking how do I know his name, because it has given a lot to do so was not known by anyone, but gives up when she sees the glitter suspect in the eyes of Suzie Pepper. Search in vain to remember which were the basic rules to follow in case of encounter of the third kind with mentally unstable individuals.

One: nod. Always.

Suzie approaches. The closer and more his freckles come to life and your space.

Suzie says: "I need to pull over for an easy chat Rachel Berry from woman to woman, but strangely enough I can never find it alone. Or without a grenade exploded on his clothes and his hair. "

" Um, "says Brad, very intelligently. Peeps with the door ajar despair in the soul of the test room. "Um."

"I mean, I think I'm asking too much from a person in such a clear and obvious need my help, but some observations that I could do over the last few days, Rachel Berry has no notion of fate which is going to encounter, "he says, looking rather thoughtful. It makes a semi-grunt to pull up his nose glasses. 'Nnnnf,' makes his nose, and Brad does not know how to escape from this delicate situation.

"I do not think it's impossible, deductions, and they tell me I is not circumvented by design, but it's annoying anyway." Suzie smiled. Brad shakes. "It 's my experience that he is speaking, Brad darling, and my experience is ordered to help the poor girl unaware of his limitations."

"Uh," says Brad, just to change the subject.

"I mean," repeats, with a certain calm that certainly does not distinguish at all, "That is a battle with William Schuester. The one begins as a battle made of hearts and giggles and inappropriate gifts, as you continue the battle, the ending is like a battle. Fought with honor. "

Brad is disturbed by the bright eyes of Suzie Pepper. "Um," he says, for good measure.

"I have fought my fight with honor," pulls up the nose. "I am a person on top of these human weaknesses, and help others to become a little above the human beings who have not never had the opportunity to share in my pain. Even if you do not deserve it, because my psychiatrist encourages me weeks to reach out to put even worse and I finally found someone who has made me worse. "

Brad trembles visibly. "Um," he says, and is not sure if I can survive for long in proximity to Suzie Pepper. Suzie . Pepper.

Suzie Pepper smiles, showing the splendor of his braces. "So," chirps happily, "you help me?"

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Rosaceae / Fotinia [Glee]

Title: Rosaceae / Photinia
Fandom: Glee
Rating: PG
Word Count: 273 (GoogleDocs)
Summary: Santana raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms and assuming a basically combative posture. "What were you doing with the female and all'asiatica stutter?"



Rosaceae / Photinia

Brittany has the look vacuous. "What?"
Santana raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms and assuming a basically combative posture. "What were you doing with the female and all'asiatica stutter? "


Brittany lifts a leg and keep it tight. He has a habit of stretching to get at times and in places less suitable less appropriate. "Things," he says, remains elusive. "What do you think of the party this weekend?"

Santana is used to change the topic of Brittany, and do not give up. "What kind of things?"

"The festival this weekend," says Brittany, still having vacant expression on his face. "The one we are invited?"

"To speak of this party weekends? "

Brittany nods. Pull down the leg and pulls on the other. "I thought it was nice to invite them," he says, biting his lower lip. He has back problems and is trying to not try too hard. "We danced and watched Grey's Anatomy and talked about boys. It 'been fun, "he adds.

Santana raises the other eyebrow. "Funny?"

"Funny," he confirms, raising his head and looking straight in the eye Santana. "What do you think of leggings?"

"difficult but worthwhile," says with conviction. He adds: "And you did not do anything else?"

"We talked about who will be queen of the prom," he says absently. He bangs that fall over her eyes. "Now that you know, Quinn is totally out of the race."

"Really?"

"Really."

Brittany lets run a comfortable silence. "A Kurt like leggings," she says abruptly. "He says he cut a line of ass. I'm not so agree, "he says.

Santana takes surprise expression. "Really?"

And then: "If you make an ass even better, then?"

Brittany smiles. "Glad you have asked me ..."

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Rosaceae / Biancospino [Glee]

Title: Rosaceae / Hawthorn

Fandom: Glee

Rating: PG

Word Count: 401 (GoogleDocs)

Summary: "Like when he discovered that the new treatment Porifera based minerals worse acne on the area around the mouth. "

Many thanks to G. for its beta-reading!

Rosaceae / Hawthorn

"Flowers," announces Mr. Shue with a big smile on his face. Other Asian

frowns. Kurt knows that he has frowned (although when it does you little known. Indeed, even if another Asian that is little noticed, point) because he has a bet going on with Mercedes who can imitate most of the other guys eyebrows in glee club.

Mercedes has not yet completed the Finn left eyebrow, and defends himself by saying that 'not being able to imitate the expression of a Boeotian is only in my favor, Kurt,' in which Kurt has yet found a satisfactory answer witty.

Kurt's winning of three eyebrows. It has yet to master the symmetry of the eyebrows when Rachel is in full mode 'sincere pulled on the social problems of the contemporary world', but really just believe that you can do it: it remains a matter of principle, however, and Kurt can not be outdone by the circumstances.

Although imitation is Rachel's eyebrows very, very painful.

Like when he discovered that the new treatment Porifera based on the minerals worse acne on the area around the mouth.

Mr. Shue is still talking of flowers and themes of regional competitions, but Kurt chooses to continue to ignore his speech ispiratorio of the day: Mr. Shue is full of good intentions, and in principle is a good man, but sometimes you just need to be distracted by other things.

things more interesting.

As the right foot of Finn, who is currently beating rhythmically on the floor of the auditorium.

Kurt has a very brief moment of envy towards the floor auditorium, which removes just not realize it because, in short, okay to be the gayest guy in school okay to be in love without hope of a stupid football player who is more hetero than three football teams put together but begin to have fantasies about being beaten up by that football player?

Not at all. Or at least, not until post-high school.

Mr. Shue is giving everyone a list of ten pages in Tahoma font of all eight songs with references to flowers in the last forty years. Because 'those before the sixties are on another list that I'll have to copy when there are funds to buy another copy paper, 'says Mr. Shue, and if Mr. Shue was not a fabulous teacher Kurt pondered the decision to do intern - for indecent obsession and neglect, or something like that.

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[Sfida di Carnevale] Schedina

Nice Carnival @ Fanworld.it Author: tina_nocturne

# 1. Flowers

# 2. Battle

# 3. Regina Feast of

story ends: 3 / 3

15 Rules Of Frustration

Dote [Harry Potter]

Title: Dowry
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,000 words (Google Docs)
Summary: " Calesco ." Caligo. Ignesco. The prison where Draco lives are never the same. Written for

janetmourfaaill during the first round of aste a  help_haiti . Ispirata parzialmente alla poesia 'Escape' di Emily Tesh. Un enorme ringraziamento a G. per l'aiuto ♥


Dote

Escape
Emily Tesh

This house is too well-known to me. It creaks
In high winds when the ocean blows them in.
It murmurs to itself. I hear the thin
Soft whispers of its voice pour through the leaks.
I think you hear them too. These old walls seek
To hem us like the mountains, pen us in.
The shore is where the prison-wall begins
And on the land the light is grey and weak.
But water catches sunbeams where they fall,
Reflects them back again all dizzy-bright
With split-gold meanings: 'You could still be free.'
It's true – though, for a little while, let's stall,
And watch the sea-birds circle to gain height
Where cliffs divide the sunlight from the sea.

" Caligo ," sogna, in lettere chiare e nitide che sbiadiscono alla luce dell'alba.

La sua vita sarebbe potuta andare in questo modo:

La casa che lo tiene prigioniero scricchiola ad ogni passo che compie.


" Ignesco ," feels. Time stands still and turns her world, but when it starts to breathe fire burned the walls and eat the drapes that cover the pictures and portraits.

has cold hands, seven years his wand is ashes, and his fingers shaking (white, thin. Bony) around a draft of hot air.

closes his eyes and inhales.

Things started to go wrong when Narcissa began to cry. Draco is not sure, a little 'why Draco was never sure of anything, and a little' because Narcissa was never allowed to cry in front of Draco. It is composed and regal and Draco loves you do not care how he never wanted before: a crack and its general view is filled with colors that never have noticed.

shaking hands around a rod made of strings of a dragon and walnut; awaits. Keep an eye on his mother and the other on the door that closed.

A subtle scent of marigolds is spread in the air.

The smell of burning fills the nostrils of a sudden. (The status of the senses of Draco is uncertain, as uncertain is the situation where it is.) Her eyelids flicker and his breathing becomes rapid.

slid ground, with a handful of words that can not grasp and a box of memories he lost in the flames.

"I took you in my arms and rocked, and the heat they gave off your baby's skin was enough to keep me warm ..."

Calendula blooms once every month in the summer. Its petals are a common ingredient in many teas, but its leaves (tender and discolored) that attract the most attention: Thought to be one of the main ingredients of a legendary love potion from the eastern origins .. .

" Caligo ," dreams, and when the warm rays of the sun still low fails to heat face, opens his eyes and finds himself in the dark.

His life may be going well:

The prison that is being measured in the infinite past is full of niches and corners.
When he tries to stop or slow down new niches and new angles appear: and, when the idea pops into the mind, it's counting [keeps count of the niches and corners] carefully, for lack of other things to do.

Draco takes a pile of barrels of calendula to his left, a pile of leaves, calendula right, and a third pile of marigold petals in front of him, the marigold petals were crushed with a mortar. His

mother sat where I am now the petals of calendula.

Sometimes, when the insomnia without taking on his mind, Draco feels vaguely remember things silly, improbable or ridiculous: things like a house, and a sky.

The sky above Hogwarts has lost its stars.

" Ignesco ," she whispers, and the castle come to life and fire rings with laughter in the void that is disappearing little by little, and Draco shuddered. Shaking hands into fists and trembling: the feeling of helplessness is familiar.

He drinks water from cupped hands. It has the tangled locks of hair falling on her face, and although attempts and tries again, fails to fully offset.

When Narcissa goes to sleep, never completely. Draco realizes it almost immediately: the sense of alert does not abandon him, and apparently even she can not let go.


(In reality things continue this way:

Draco can not calm down. The panic has instilled in his mind and his volatile temperament and naturally anxious does not help to reassure him about anything. His ability ; of psychological balance have never been honed at their best, and Draco did not even hope to be able to achieve any semblance of spiritual tranquility; hope is something that can only make those who still have something to hold on.

His mother died quietly in his arms, in a pose typically derisive and currently agonizing.)


Draco begins to grow tired of surviving, but it never ceases to be: this is one of the pitfalls that stand in ' dark mass in which they are gathered all his personal flaws, not ever bring out the task it set itself. Never arrive at the finish sighted; participate but not win.

burn scars but it means having to die, or at least, this is the definition more Draco is close to the experience that experience the hard way (in his own skin) and that will never be able to make fully with words that can not let it escape.

"You still have the chance to be free," he said with a whisper and suffused with the smell of orange blossoms.

(There are spells worse than a flash of green light.)

The house keeps him prisoner is a mausoleum. (The mausoleum that holds him captive is an abandoned shack.) The floor creaks and walking routes on which roses are moth. Moving, hang up his boots once every three in the clothes too long who removed a man dying.

there anything I should grab (an explanation, clarification, an intricate and convoluted reasoning), but it escapes any time he thinks he arrived at the conclusion of the history of which is joined.

" Caligo ," he says, and the cage that closes a dream turns into a dull green color.

sleep has a certain satisfying quality that has never been able to understand completely. He never voiced his thoughts on the matter, because he had no reason to do so, and now he can not do nothing but sleep, fails to re-float the reasons why he never went to sleep not a genius, and this bothers him less than it should.

" Calesco ."