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Syren de la Lune.

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Debauched Paralysis. [Sep. 21st, 2011|08:24 am]
syren.
I feel like I've just found out how I much I need or have wanted this place again. Maybe the solidification of ever-maturing responsibilites have reminded me of what it was like to dream as I used to. I became ashamed of how much I tended to sugar-coat over the most seemingly mundane times in this journal - but, yes - it was so necessary, in some ways. 

And so, all these changes... (many people from Facebook or life or wherever, may already know these things already). The changes have stunted my desire to come back here. Sometimes I've felt too different; I've felt like just way too much has changed and no one here will like me anymore. Sometimes I've spent way too long on profile layout and userpics... I've come here, changed some aesthetic schtuff, thinking 'Oooo.. this feels much more like me now' only to crash out once finished. The most annoying one is when I do a massive write-up, informing of my current state of mind, and how apologetic I am for having spent so long away, talking about how embarrassed I am of how I am or how I used to be... and then I leave it so long and it gets all out of date all over again. 

Seize the goddamn day!
So here we go. In no particular order ~

- I love tea now... Like, a lot.. just regular English tea, with 2 sugars or more. 
- I have two children: Moonbub & Baby Bub Bub... {fancy fancy goldfish}
- I was in therapy. [Cognitive Behavioural Therapy]
- Since March 2011, I am declared FREE of BDD. 
- I've made many acquaintances. 
- I haven't made many friends. 
- I travel a lot.
- I read a lot on sex and the psychology of fantasies & fetishes. 
- I need women in my life, terribly... Women who aren't afraid to take the false lashes off, or don't even own any. Honest faces and honest hearts. 
- Skateboarding is an incredible art form. 
- I made it back to the sea. [but still need a bucket & spade]
- I have a notable amount of SPUNK. [Seriously, I had no idea of this]. 
- I maintain the forum at BDDCentral as an administrator, helping those with the demons I used to be in battle with. 
- Dark instead of light. [Now you can see why I may dislike the look of my LJ now!]




{sharp; alert}

Link10 fallen stars ... whisper sweet nothings..

please. [Mar. 21st, 2010|10:02 pm]
syren.

I want to follow them around...
The trees and seas and fields and shores;
Kiss you in them all - the elements -
flood them, and
Drench the senses.

Disover microscopic nuances of life in a wave through my fingers.





I like being elaborate.
Don't let it kid you, all I want is to meet the earth & the sea.
They are luxuries, but we are all born into them.
I don't like being caged in my house.
Link7 fallen stars ... whisper sweet nothings..

the willing captive. [Jan. 28th, 2010|08:48 am]
syren.
[melody |this woman's work.]


If nothing else right now, I have a such rich mind for fantasy. Not by any comparison, but by what suits me. It probably seems sad, but I feel like some sort of little magic for being able to summon up such strong feelings just by the power of thought. Although by life situation we had fallen apart a little, I remember how K's singing and laughter arrested me this way when we stayed together in Geneva.. I would be in a different room and could hear him from whichever room he was in... immediately I'd be so taken. Stop whatever it was I was doing, turn off my own music, and just listen to him with every ounce of myself.. feeling like my heart was blossoming and i flourished. want to find the strength to take myself to him or i should secretly admire for fear of disturbance? no living thing I'd ever known created sounds so celestial.. i'd want to give him the nickname of 'Heaven' because that's what he was to me. even through the years and battled, it delighted me the slightest touch of my senses from him could make me feel drunk.

The only draw-back is that I choreograph each desire to such a high degree that I sub-consciously give myself high expectations. The chances are, these things just won't happen in real life, which sometimes upsets me. But I know it shouldn't, and that it's just foolish to spend so much time dreaming when I should be spending time doing. I'll never even get close if I don't do enough, but I've always been so frightened that if I try it will just not happen the way I wanted it to. I've felt close enough... and some things have happened in real life. I think, being in a classroom, and conjuring up all these little secret situations which could blossom from this kind of enviroment, put a new spin on how I've seen romance twinned with life. To be honest I never really link the two... There is romance and then there is life. Love is always Heaven and never was something I felt I could juggle with any sense of responsibility. I've succeded slightly by allowing this imagined romance to flourish by placing frames on the time we could be able to spend together which has rendered the strictness of a classroom layout desirable to me where I once found it tedious. It's exasperating, but not nearly in the same way as it was tedious; - I love toying with the occurance that would have us 'resisting': on edge of seats, exchanging looks, trembling, frantic, pinning hopes on stolen moments. And following out through breaks in the day would see us return, laughing lightly through the weight of emotion we've just shared and yet it still being not enough, testing our commitment to life outside of love. It reminds me a little of.... [cliche as it is, I don't care (think I've gone past that already anyway!)... It's classic] ...

O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that hath new robes
And may not wear them.
- Romeo & Juliet.


There is such a thing as insatiability.. It is so real. Time suspended, my soul by fever transformed into worlds-within-worlds possibility. Merely thinking of him like this arrests me, and I smoulder as a willing captive of my own desire... 

*
 


It would feel so right to kneel at his feet while he would sit up; my gaze directed upward.. the slightest touch and he can do as he pleases with me...
But he persists that he be the one who kneels!.. and we fight playfully. then sit entwined..
outside in the fresh air he horses around, and picks flowers for me.
i have this fixation because it's what i want to do.. picking flowers... the process of choosing the most compatible matches in a combination which best suits loves constantly changing beauty and mood. and we keep them by our bed, so many bouquets of them... it makes the bed look as though it's inhabited by someone ill or dying.. so many flowers. like a tribute..
yes a sweet death occured, when i left my former life behind and found you.
and now all is total intoxication and i'm half-frightened of how far this bliss can be pushed.. it is almost too much..
at this he smiles, knowing his intention... 'just when you think all has calmed.. i will engulf you with ever more passion than before.'
[i am taken infinitely by this, alone]
drunkenly we fight and softest moans seem to come from my heart itself. his expressions in the prelude to our lovemaking have the sensitivity of a woman. his eyes are light and low-lashed, bedroom. his lips part easily to reveal teeth which bite teasingly at my lips.
so heavy is the desire and so desperate our passion that bruises, bites, cuts all are made helplessly in this restless struggle for complete mutual possession.
it is only after our climax that we may rest.
Link2 fallen stars ... whisper sweet nothings..

just so lucky.. i think. [Dec. 24th, 2009|07:01 pm]
syren.



"He's like a fresh Spring morning isn't he? ... A sweet meadow", he smiles as he's crouched on the floor, where he always is, and scoops up one of his kittens into his arms, kissing and cooing. His dark hair is still ruggedly wild despite having just been cut, and the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow is forming on his chiseled jaw. Despite myself sterotyping, he definitely does not look like the kind of man who would behave like this. Being around him is becoming difficult; despite our strong friendship, he is ever more intimidating.

Beside him I am a doll; I am younger than him, shorter than him, and I seem more naive, despite being four years older. Good god I look so much younger...
Beside him I am like glass; reflecting his every joke and pleasing attribute and throwing it joyfully around myself like confetti.

He treated me to an evening of seafood dinner he made himself; posh aphrodisiacs, muscles, salmon.. I had never tried these things before in my life. Despite being an impossibly fussy eater who never likes trying new food, that night I ate like a wolf and had to apologise for the completely uncivilized way I ate it.
He is a master of alcholic elixirs; he had created a gin-based cocktail in a large sharing glass which at first looked like something a scientist would use. He named it Oceane. I assumed it was for the taste and colour, but the intoxication was as powerful as though we had been swept out to sea.

I enjoy his company for it's absolute and complete sense of being FREE.
Free, mad, and spontaneous.


I have wanted in so long.


Linkwhisper sweet nothings..

The Smallest Doll In The Babushka Doll. [Nov. 14th, 2009|01:14 am]
syren.
Nothing I could say here could explain it better than this: --


Link1 fallen star ... whisper sweet nothings..

that which is distant. [Sep. 15th, 2009|07:48 pm]
syren.
I want so much to be loved the way a boy who has just found love for the first time demonstrates his passion. Without reservations and totally blinded by his own desire. It feels like he's walking on air when he sees me and keeping his feelings to himself ends up feeling as though it is burning him down entirely; smouldering. And I will try to keep my cool for as long as I can, until I feel it overflowing in me, too. We spoil one another incessantly for weeks on end.


Link1 fallen star ... whisper sweet nothings..

Am I even anywhere close? [Sep. 7th, 2009|10:46 am]
syren.




things who remind me. . .Collapse )


Linkwhisper sweet nothings..

the end of the madness & magic ash. [Aug. 27th, 2009|02:57 am]
syren.




THE END.




i'm not used to being around anyone with the same childlike spark, and freer..

he ran away to sweden and fell in love. and now back "home" (he no longer calls london his home), he is ill and lovesick because he's back here and hates it. it's nothing compared to where he went - and neither are the people in his eyes. he came back full of extreme vulgarity, peppered with insults toward the people (sean & i) who had been keeping his disgusting apartment for him while he was away. [um... where's the thanks?]

i did treasure him.. i treasured him dear like i were an angel who came into his life and everyone else saw it but him.. people would stare at us in the street and comments (from people we knew well to passers-by) were directed at us with things like why i am with him! and that i can do better or that i am "pitied" because he doesn't treat me as well as i deserve. i would strike back and put my arm around him and tell him that he is perfect. i saw him as a supermodel who wore scruffy clothes (which still suited him) with sledge-hammer wit and charm. but in the end, he never reacted to me the way he did to that country - we just fed off one another and shared the same energy, the same vein of madness as though we were the same person. stupid lost passport.. if i'd have gone at least it could have been shared and our bond reinforced. god, i feel stupid.. and discarded. i wish i were angrier with him. i don't like that i can't stay angry at him.

my desire for romantic love has taken on the force of being a daily and nightly mind-fuck again. if anything, it's good for my art... it's good for inspiration because again i feel so grossly fucking unbeautiful so i'm looking everywhere for beauty to cling onto. where on earth is it anymore? ~ because i saw him as a whole world of beautiful and he turned out to be a compulsive liar, i feel like i can't trust anything beautiful anymore because of how easily deceiving it is.

right now, all i want is for him to fuck off back to sweden so i can just pretend he has vanished off the face of the earth. i've set a lot of plans in motion for the immediate future which frightens me but i feel like i am clinging onto my own ambitions and what i've made i can personally trust. i have dreams in the night about romance happening in fields and playgrounds and among natural and intoxicating surroundings. we kiss madly, grasping one anothers flesh with urgency and with tears flooding my eyes i plead him to make love to me beside that tree over there. sweat from fevers makes our skin stick together. i can't stand not being as close as we possibly can regardless of where we are but where we are amplifies the naturality of sex. so we fuck, like animals in the wilderness who need no justification for what they are doing.

it makes the world spin. and now, after having done god-knows how many drugs, powders, elixirs and smokable things of all kinds.. i know that love really is the drug which gives me the most powerful high.

it'll happen. if this dream never comes true, there is no point in me being alive.

i live for love like this.
i live for love like this..




Link3 fallen stars ... whisper sweet nothings..

where to find joy. [Jul. 8th, 2009|06:03 pm]
syren.
 
 
 
i still wish it can happen. 
are my dreams too specific?
to me, it's just passionate love.

henry's mother spoke of seeing her lulu dance as making her the happiest she's ever been...
her supple figure wrapped in the delicate pink lace gift wrapping of costume.
shy shy shy smile sweetening everything as we watch and she knows we are watching.
i agree. i have never seen anything like her before.



i believe it. whenever she wants to be closer to happiness she thinks of lulu dance. she poses this method to henry for finding his own happiness.
my mind wanders softly back the memory of laying with my love with tears of gratitude sweeping down my cheeks.
the most secure and the most beautiful.
everything i ever need around me: my love, his heartbeat, his voice, his warmth, his strength...
this is heaven on earth.
could it be possible to take this feeling with us, everywhere.. tenderly giving love to each place we visit. ~
engraving our initials into trees
and feverishly gasping through kisses in desperation for a secluded place to fuck one another.
biting love-wounds into flesh and clawing passion into skin as though wishing to become part of one another.
to physically consume, we are such primative animals and now so powerful.

 
Link3 fallen stars ... whisper sweet nothings..

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