KarmaOfChaos

[color=deeppink] Hey Arasoi, so sorry I didn't respond sooner than this. Damn my internet and its death...;-; Anyway, my reviews. Here it goes! Children of the Glass: Excellent flow here, you pull the rhymes out of midair and let them flow out of you like ink through a pen. The idea of not knowing until its too late, watching from the other side as they self-destruct while you can't do anything because for whatever reason you are incapicitated (the glass wall). Maybe they won't listen to you, maybe you don't know how to say it. Great poem. Prison Sanctuary: This one I could really relate to on a new level once I read it again. Stuck in a safe haven, wanting to leave but afraid to do so for fear of what's outside. The last line is wonderful, having all you needed, but nothing you wanted. Is that not so often the case? We have just enough to live, but the one thing that makes life worth living is always just out of reach. Good stuff. Friend's gonna kill me if I don't get off her computer, so I'll finish this LATER. Love you! -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] I feel surrounded by Kyo fans. Alright Dagger, let's do this. As Chichiri said, Yuki isn't the only 'outsider' in the family. Kyo may not be a member of the Zodiac, but he is able to warm up to other people and do normal things with them, unlike Yuki. Yuki lives his life in fear - fear of Akito, fear of other people, even a slight fear of his older brother. Despite what some may say, it probably took a lot for Yuki to really let his guard down and let Tohru in, whereas with Kyo it happens a lot easier. And all this crap about how Kyo is always second to Yuki. Kyo can't win against Yuki physically, and he'll never be as 'popular' as Yuki, but he will always be able to trust people easier because he was shown love by Kazumi, whereas Yuki had [i]no one.[/i] He was mentally abused by Akito his entire life, and hated or ignored by anyone who really knew him. So in that sense, Yuki lost in the biggest way possible - love. Main point? If Tohru were to get together with Yuki, Kyo would recover. Kagura will always love him, and I think there's a deeper bond there than the series really gets into or explores. But if Tohru were to pair up with Kyo, Yuki might never be able to really trust again, because his rival once again won in 'the game of love.' Kyo didn't have as pathetic a life as it appears to be. So Dagger? Your turn. -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] * salutes Mimmi * Excellent. Yea, Pretty Shadows and Shame are harder to interpret than some of my other poems. Shame is basically saying "I've done something awful to the people I care most about, and I'm ashamed, I'm so ashamed I wish that I had never met you, and that you didn't care about me, so I wouldn't have to hurt you, and I wouldn't have to be ashamed." Pretty Shadows is the metaphor of the child's nightmare, his own 'pretty shadows' turning against him and turning into monsters. The evil is only as great as he imagines it to be. Then, using the shadow imagery, the poem transitions into something else, the shadows are truth hidden behind a mask. The mask is that of anger, but what it really hides is confusion. The confusion made her bitter, and she uses the mask to hide how lost and mixed up she really feels. more poetry... [b]Halfway[/b] Halfway there, halfway gone Halfway to this place I long to call my home Halfway held by your arms Star-dazed by this world full of charms. Halfway in love Caught between below and above Halfway between happy and sad Something so wonderful, why does it make you feel so bad? We're halfway there. Middle is a painful place to be Thoughts are clouded and you can't quite see The right decision is never clear Caught at halfway, held back by fears. Reach for me...just a little closer. [b]Wasting[/b] Fill you up with nothing Doing things over and over that had already been done Watch the hours tick Wasting away in the sun Stupid things meant to make you think you're amused Life fades faster than words washed in water While you sat there waiting Wondering why you bothered. Wasting away on borrowed time The mindless tricks that made you laugh Have dulled you into a comatose illusion That what you're living is just part of the confusion. Nothing became your everything The photograps came out blank And all the memories we shared Wasted away, and slowly sank (to the bottom of oblivion.) Wasting was inspired by Farenheit 451. You'll understand if you've read the book. -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] I'm going to get shot after saying this, but oh well: I really dislike The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. Quite honestly, J.R.R. Tolkien's style seems so dry to me, it's painful to read his books. It's almost as if I'm reading an article on how asprin prevents hearattacks-dry and requiring a couple rereadings of certain sentences to really understand what it's saying. Of course, I haven read either of his books since 8th grade, so I don't know, I may like his work now more if I actually went back to read it, but I doubt it. Anyway, that's my standing on it now. A really excellent sci-fi book I just read this summer was The House of the Scorpion, by Nancy Farmer. It won several awards, and it was a great read. The setting and the plot were so out there, yet she manages to make it seem as if it is a perfectly possible future reality. (Which is what good sci-fi should do.) Drugs, mexicans, psychodrama...what more could you ask for? ^.~ Farenheit 451 is also very good, the message is wonderful. I was really horrified while I read it, because I thought 'this is what society could become.' Living in a world where books are burned would truly be a hell for me. A great book to pick up if you're looking for something that's emotionally impacting AND futuristic. Plus the author's descriptive style is amazing... And now for a series: Everworld. It's based more on the horror side of sci-fi, but it's such a unique idea, all the gods of the world, on every timeline, all together in one world. The author, K.A. Applegate, (yes, the very same who wrote Animorphs) is also very good at character development, which is always a huge factor for me in considering whether a book/series is really good or not. Yea. I also never really liked Chronicles of Narnia. o.o Don't hurt me...it's not my fault I don't care for the 'classics.' >.> -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] Mimmi dearest, sometimes I think you outdo me with your replies! Heh heh. Danke, du bist wirklich ehrfürchtig (und dein twin zu). Thank you for your [i]wonderful[/i] reviews, liebling. Here's more poetry! [b]newspaper.[/b] newspaper spread all upon the floor words of the world that are silent in black and white spread out to catch dripping paint no one cares about what they say the letters meld together endlessly, all the different stories melting together, becoming one mass of streaming distance from reality like the writers really cared. the distant, unencumbered writers, 'unbiased' why should they write the story? better to tell the world how the story felt rather than how it went. as if the writers were unencumbered at all. splotches of color blotch out the words and the story is left in bits and pieces not making any sense at all but maybe that was what was meant all along that the papers, all crisp and perfect weren't supposed to be read (what a foolish idea) but only after the story had been crinkled and torn covered in paint and sawdust could we see the truth between oddly numbered lines the hidden meaning that was meant all along that reality wasn't real ...tangible does not mean truth looking deeper finding what was there beneath the lies and deceit. [b]Start[/b] The screen blinks, as the theme music begins to play The screen is reset, all the options are cleared It's time to start this again Forget all the things you feared Jumpstart your heart, it's a new game We don't have anyone to blame So let's just start this again. Delete the last player And with him goes the things that he's done So now maybe we can move on Hit the start buttton again (The poetry of a gamer...oh god. -.-") [b]Shame[/b] I know what this feeling is I've felt it so many times before It's shame, mine, not his Glad I finally took it for what it was. Ashamed of all this hell That I'm putting them through You'd think I'd learn after I fell But I'm too blind for that. I'm ashamed of being me I'd rather be anyone else in the world I'm a fool, so please, feel free To throw me away I'm too ashamed to show my face And too afraid to die Nowhere is my place So shove me in it, because I keep getting lost. A wide-eyed creature who knows she's not worth it A fool, a fake, a masquerade All alone she sits Cowering covered in shame. Like an ugly, wretched paint It covers her entire soul And she became bitter and learned how to hate Will this paint ever wash off? I'm living in shame I want to hide I want to die But I'm a fool So what I want doesn't count Stop acting like it does. The love in your eyes Makes me feel so ashamed That I'm pushing you aside I can't bear to have you care I wish you didn't. I wish that all my mistakes were mine alone That I didn't have to look so stupid in front of them No, please, don't pick up the phone Dont dial my numbers, please. But they're still there, and the ringing shatters my ears Phone ringing off the hook This is my deepest fear I can't even bear to look. Don't you see? I can't answer that phone Please stop caring about me I'm ashamed of my self I want that shame to go away I want you not to love me So I don't have to feel ashamed. This is shame, true and deep True as red blood does seep True as a child's unencumbered sleep Shame of the girl. He loved me and left me, there it is And as bad as I want to hold his hand A wish of lost existance Is far stronger in my mind. Standing at a fork in the road Staring at the dirt I don't know which way to go But please don't try to help me It only hurts me worse you see I want to simply sit here alone And not bother you all. This.... this is what shame truly is. [b]Pretty Shadows[/b] The pretty shadows of her soul Cast into stark relief (the sharp pain That had pooled inside her) as if she were a bowl Pretty shadows quickly turn into horrifying demons Terrors only as great as your imagination though Your own shadow against you A hellish nightmare, a cage of your own creation that trapped you. Shadow of sanity quickly fled And her ears bled The cacophony of chaos and confusion A choir born in morose, spiting rage. Confusion. That is what it is. Apperance said it was anger But the shadow spoke the true form An ill-disguised confusion That bred bitterness; emotions sorely torn. A mask tells lies and nothing more That's why it's made, that's what it's there for So turn away and try and ignore The mask and consequently everything hidden beneath. Ignorance is bliss. If only she could ignore her reckless cogitations With every thought she hurts herself worse Meditation became self-mutilation And pep talks turned to self-deprication. Pretty shadows slowly lead to suffocation The bitter confusion is killing And all you wanted was all you could never have So death laid his hands upon you For you lead them there, in the end. [b]A kiss.[/b] A kiss Kept tightly locked upon lips Like a whisper'd secret Held only for another A kiss Lingering in bittersweet wait For her lover's eyes to wake Inaudible in such a quietly roaring room. Kissing Killed with sweet saturnine seclusion Lost to the world Like a whisper'd secret Long forgotten in this catastrophic, chaotic world. Kissed A pained memory of the flesh That goes deeper than the skin Lips that ate away at her heart While they sought pleasure from her mouth. A kiss Drifting away in oblivion But ne'er forgotten. [b]Lover[/b] you're like a secret I just couldn't keep although I swore I always would You're the mystery I never could quite figure and maybe I don't need to i'd like to understand this but maybe I shouldn't all I took from you was kiss but it seems like you took so much more from me and I thought I knew you just a little but I turn around and you're different and I thought that I could trust you But now I'm not so sure. did you ever really care? or was that just another lie you told to win the lady fair but maybe what you said maybe it was true after all in my heart of hearts, believing you would be so much easier so much easier on my heart but the doubting voice in me is saying to be wary of playing the part of a fool. and now I'm stuck here wondering if it even matters anymore. [b]Heart[/b] love is a heart a heart strongly pulsing and beating pounding the thick blood of emotions so powerfully through your veins and what an ethereal feeling drifting slowly from the ground don't open your eyes for fear it might drift away. the heart beat so steadily flowing near and true a wound to it would go deeper far deeper than we could have ever known yet so surely as we feared the cut refused to believe it might happen there it was piercing us deeper ripping in two what once was whole and now the emotions come spilling out gushing in this rushing pool of blood and the pain is so complete and completly devastating too weak to die, too hurt to heal the wound. love is a heart just as easily torn and foolishly worn on the edge of our sleeves. Whoo, okay, that's enough for tonight. Don't drink and drive, and remember - mashed potatoes can be your friend! -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] Shin, this piece was [i]excellent.[/i] I really, really enjoyed it. The story started as very amusing, the melodramatic, space cadet friend and the down-to-earth 'gotta finish this essay' guy. A likely pair of friends. Jacob is not worried, as this behavior on Curt's part is viewed as normal. This puts the reader at ease, they assume that Curt is just a little weird, and rather comical. "...he produced a long, dust covered wooden box. " This is where the reader is given the slightest of clues that not everything is as it seems. With Jacob's back turned to Curt, he is entirely unaware of the box, which gives the story an even greater sense of unease or anticipation, depending on what the reader first expected from the box. "Curt was an amusing distraction but finishing this essay on time was a life or death situation for Jacob. " Oh the irony. Impeccable use of irony. I [i]loved[/i] that line. As the story progresses, there is fear, but also resignation. Jacob has his back turned, and Curt is too far gone to turn back now. Death is imminent. Then, there is a twist. Curt decideds that he will take Jacob with him. It ends with the death of an eccentrinic thinker who was driven insane by the lack of empathy with his ideas, and the friend who was too busy working on the essay to really listen to him. So bittersweet. -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] I enjoyed this Arcadia, indeed I did. As Mimmi said, ya ya for you for writing from a guy's point of view.(Beatles moment) It is very much an admirable quality of a writer if they can write from the opposite sex's point of view and do it well. (Which you did.) The entire bit had a half-comical, half-wanting feel. Like on the surface, what he wanted was sex, but it really went a little bit deeper than that. Or maybe not. Maybe it was all about sex.(Like those darned AIM chat rooms...) You leave the reader not quite sure, which is what I like. Good stuff Miss Arcadia! ^.~ *squeals with asphy * -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] Ah Mimmi, this thread has become a poetry jam between the two of us! Lol. Thanks so much for the review - you understood each poem perfectly, and described them better than I could. Leaving Kiss is, indeed a poem made of the double meaning. I leave it up to the reader which side to take for themselves, depending on their own personal experiences. Because in a way, the emotion is the same, it's just the circumstances that are different. Falling Out was about an argument between myself and my best friend. Once again you hit the nail on the head in description. Same with the rest of the poems. ^-^ Now for new poetry! [b]Night[/b] Soft clouds tinted pale indigo velvet And stars sparkled like the heaven's frozen tears The moon is the nightwalker's lighthouse Shining, forever just out of reach The quiet is dark and timidly entrancing The wind tells secrets in a language you can almost understand The human voice has no place here Night is [u]nature's[/u] song. Searching eyes ease closed in an ended calamity The calamity of the day And the night came creeping upon us Like a lover who slowly put their hands upon you And whispered devotion in a forgien tongue. (I don't usually write 'earth' poetry, and mostly don't care for it, but there is a certain wonderfully calmness that the night gives me, and I felt it my duty as a poet to express that tranquil sensation as best I could.) [b]Rain[/b] knees knocked together a shy, pleading look weakly holding a broken umbrella standing in the rain. crowds brushed past without a glance hurrying on upon wet paved sidewalks bumping and pushing fallen on the ground as the rain fell down. laying on the soaked cement cracks and dirt umbrella knocked aside still alone lonely silence in the rain. (I completly ommited pronouns and capatilization in this one, just playing with literary effects. Opinions?) [b]Losing It[/b] That fall doesn't scare me Push me forward, I won't flee I've fallen so many times before Would it matter if I fell just once more? I'm not afraid because there always was Someone to to catch me when I fell from above But now it seems I was just a spectacle to them And now they're bored and tired, and won't be there to catch me again So now I'm losing it Once more I'm losing it But this time...I'm afraid Because there's no one to hold on when I've lost it all. I'm losing it Falling deeper into this endless pit I'm alone I'm alone and I'm losing it. (This poem became an abject confession. Ah well.) -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] Unlike Mimmi, I have no life and I am bored, so I shall analyze your poetry thusly! Darkness: The main message of this poem was that it had gotten to the point where the pretty lights had dimmed, the exciment and joy had faded in a jaded apathy, and that the beautiful facade had fallen apart to reveal a dull, dangerous darkness beneath. "Murkiness at the end of the road Warped and twisted and skewed Reality exists no more Only you can see the truth" This line was [i]really[/i] done well. That reality had to be twisted and erased to see truth. (Or at least that's how I percieved the lines.) So reality is not always truth. Excellent! I'm guessing Marlow is a reference to some historical figure or something...I've never heard of him. (Or her.) Care to digress? The bell has just rung, and PE is waiting. I'll reply to the second poem later, TTFN! -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] I agree with Asphy, it definitely seemed more a 'stream of conciousness' piece than poetry. Even free-verse, non-rhyming poetry possesses a melodical feel, like the flow of water in a stream. Not exactly smooth, but almost. However, I like SOC too, so I enjoyed this. I also can empathize with you, which always makes the piece of writing better for the reader. And, again as Asphy said, you were honest and wrote what you felt, which I personally like and relate well with. Overall, pretty well done piece. =) -Karma PS: Spellcheck is your friend. [/color]

[color=deeppink] Nice work Asphy. Especially the last line. Even the worst of stories can be saved with a particularily powerful last line, so your story, which despite its wonderful imagery and tone seemed lacking something, was brought together very well. The array of objects you chose are interesting not only in their seemingly unrelatedness to eachother, but the fact that each of these smells, mint, lemon, and tabacco, are all very strong, invading smells. Curiosity is piqued about what kind of woman this was, to be associated with such strong smells. The bitter lemon of a hard worker, tabacco--the tomboy, and mint, the piercing yet sweet little something almost like tough love. Good stuff! -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] Good stuff DW, good stuff. I pity Shin though. He seems to be *cough* owned *cough* by quite a few people, *ahempleasureslaveahem*. Yes, anyway, moving on. Do continue with your amusing story! -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] Study Hall = Poetry [b]Leaving Kiss[/b] Is this what you wanted? Was this your plan all along? Somehow, I don't think so Yet sadness is the only thing I know Rasping a heartfelt tragedy, here upon the cold floor Red-rimmed eyes shudder to open, blind no more Staring out at you, and nothing, dead in their sockets Blood pulses out of the wound where her heart was, now hidden in you pocket Do you even know that it's there? Flesh pale and frozen without your touch And your leaving kiss was just too much ...yet never enough Killed by a kiss that was goodbye. Her palm rests, and fingers clutch her bleeding womb Swollen with emotions and memories of you Impregnated by her own tears The child is an infection, a realization of fears. The birth of this killed her As a soft tear slid down a raw cheek She lie there, dead and broken upon the ground Breathing silenced, death without a sound. [b]Falling Out[/b] I stared at your face And I remembered your words And I thought I must despise you For all the things you left unheard. You, whom I was supposed to love I can't find that love now So maybe we should just forget this Our friendship was too much to allow Not all my memories are painful We've had some wonderful times But now this hurts worse Hitting deeper with each of my rhymes. And some days I wish I hadn't met you ...Everyday I wish this didn't hurt Some days I wish I could die Bloodstainds seeping through my shirt Don't you think if I could have avoided this I would have? Or maybe you're too damn selfish and blind To see that I did all that I could have So now I'm falling out Out of you and out of me Falling out of the world Falling out of exsistance, wishing I could forget who I must be. [b]Catalyst of the Heart[/b] A catalyst is somethat quickens Makes better what came before Darling, you are a catalyst of my heart It thuds softly in my chest At the mere thought of you. The blood burns in my veins Racing and pulsing at your approach And the smile of some driven slightly insane Touchs my lips at your quick embrace You are a catalyst of my heart Wonderfully bittersweet adoration Incessant, quiet infatuation Consumed by longing for you Sweetest, tie my heart up in ethereal ropes Held strong with our obscurely pleasur'd bond It will beat for you Palpitating and capitulating Caught up in the catalyst that was you. [b]Tell Them All[/b] Tell them all Every, last, one That I died. Tell them all That they found me there Amidst the scribbled poems and sketches As if I was still asleep. Tell them all How morbidly, delicately beautiful it was Among the scribbles and the sketches With my hair splayed out, and my arms flung wide Nothing to hide Tell them all I died a quiet death Drowned by my own emotion. Tell them That I died with my lips locked in a kiss (I never found his lips) And my eyes made of mist (Misted with muted insanity) They were shuttered closed Locked out the world And dyed tearstained. Tell them all That I died a quiet death Searching for a peaceful rest And a place my mind could call my own. Tell them all I had left a letter That said something witty and clever Tell them I died well. Please, won't you tell them all? That I died last night in my sleep And as dreamer's fleeting dreams never keep So too had my life fled. Because... I might as well have died For all the strength I can call up now Is none at all Might as well fall So just tell them all That I died quietly Tell them all That I died well. [b]Sick[/b] Bound up flat against the wall Bound abd bleeding, but not yet ready to fall Dirt and scars are perversely tracing Lovely tatoos lacing Arcing orgasms of pain across my body I turned to you with suppresed, depressed eyes Dead staring, and quietly scaring I see the fear of beaten rage There, relfected in your glass cages Windows into your head (I can see you now...) And an obtusely sick grin twisted my lips A killing kiss smirking among wisps Of my limp strands of color And slowly I stood, with no place for you to run for cover. Picking up the razor blades That had once pierced my skin in a daze Blood drips, it seeps from every pore Now who are you gonna call a whore? Let's see how you fare against a fighter. I ripped your body from your stomach to your throat Lauging as you start to choke Suffocating in your own red velvet liquid Smiling, feel sadistic I let my fingers trace your flesh. Softly, morbidly tender at first Then scraping broken nails against you till it hurts My hands closed around your neck And squeezed you, like a disease beginning to infect My fingers drowned in your rapidly oozing blood. (Let's see you scream at me now.) Yes yes, I am a veritable torrent of contradictory emotions. Carry on. (Thanks Mimmi for your reply! Hugs and kisses liebling!) -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] I'm sorry PT, but this poem just screamed sex. Or wait, maybe that's me. ^.~ Honestly though, I don't think I have to dig very far to pull out all the sexual inneudos here. Nice poem. (He called her a whore because she wouldn't have sex with him? He's a bit too sensitive...and a bad hand at insulting.) -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] Only from your weird mind, mitch. This short story was full of half-hidden messages and a healthy dose of almost apathy. Instead of any sort of unique charater, any kind of anything out of the ordinary or in some way abnormal, the character is, indeed, 'the perfect normal.' Yet in his normalacy, he becomes strange and bizarre, to be so normal. And slowly, a sense of insecurity, almost self-hate begins to seeth just beneath the surface, evident in the insistance that he's 'just normal.' The change from the first albert to the second was rather awkward, and slightly confusing. Surreal. The story begins to meld into the common tale of the couple who married for infatuation, and no longer feel 'love.' The woman even begins to question if such a thing as love exsists. Very nice metaphor between the marriage and the dinosaurs. Good stuff. Overall, good story. Confusing at one point, but nearly as bad as 567. *twitch * -Karma PS: Yes, I *AM* alive. [/color]

[color=deeppink] You didn't think I was alive, did you? Did you?! Don't lie to me! ...moving on. [b]Lost[/b] Dead yet breathing Blind but still seeing Although none of it is really seen. I could touch your face But I wouldn't truly feel And I'm so numb I just can't place This depression I can't seem to heal Walking down a road bleak and vague Stumbling in a daze Reaching for anything to hold on Grasping at lies, wrapped in white chiffon. [b]Full of Empty[/b] Wordlessly full of words Filled so emptily, forever unheard Wrought with pain and rotten sugar This is no simple pleasure In being filled with an aching hole. Words made of a melancholic expression A silent, unknown depression Filled only with the pain of your unspoken words Forever longing to be heard Brought only emptiness to your lips desperate want Like eating sugar when what you need was salt. Emptiness that came from being full Full of words that could never be heard Heard only by your soul's aching need The words are an infection, a spreading disease. So if you spoke and emptied these words You might be full in lacking But these words remain here forever Unheard as you pulled the lever. Spoken by actions in the end. Filled you until you died an empty death, The words finally spilled out, once dead ...colored crimson red. [b]This Sentence Is A Lie.[/b] A paradoxical truth An oxymoronical lie A contradiction of circumstances. Drawing stares and passing glances A thought that held you a moment longer That came and then left you, wont to ponder This sentence is a lie. If it is true, then it is false But if it is false, then it is true An opposite that was the same An innocent that was to blame Cogitations construe themselves Until it so deep down you delve You become lost within yourself. Lost in a place you knew so well Heaven became Hell And upside down is where you stand, A bruising slap becomes a helping hand, This sentence is a lie. Whoo, feel the mighty poem power! (Why am I reminded of a bad superhero kid's show?) -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] I am getting the weirdest feeling I created this exact same thread before, but I looked back a while and I didn't see it so I'm starting it now. If my deja vu was right, by all means delete this! ^^;; Millenium Actress was, first of all, excellently done. The animation was wonderful (right on up there with Miyazaki), and the plotline, although slightly familiar, added so much more to the idea of a unrequited/forbidden love of sorts, that it avoided any cliche that I could see. The story is about a girl who has a strange encounter with a young man, during the time when Communist China was just being born. The man is a rebel, and is being hunted by the government. He gives her a key to hold on to for him, until they meet again. Her life is consumned by this meeting, and her only goal in life become to return the key to him. She becomes an actress, and through her movies, she travels from the days of feudal Japan to the future, full of spaceships, but always with the same theme of searching for the young man to give him his key. "This is the key to the most important thing there is..." The movie takes on an almost surreal air, as real life and the movies become melded together at points, and it may take a couple viewings to really get the gist of what exactly happened. However, the first time it is viewed, it creates such a strong emotional impact on the viewer. The ending is by no means happy. Bittersweet and full of pointless chasing of shadows, she finally says, in the final scene, "It's the chasing him that I really love..." [spoiler]Throughout the movie, it is already revealed that the young man has been long since dead.[/spoiler] But it comes with the realization that it wasn't really about him. It wasn't about the key, whose lock it went with was never found. It was about the consequences of chasing something, and not being able to let go. Great movie. I confess, I cried. Thoughts? Opinions? Think I'm dead wrong? Let's hear it! And if you haven't seen it, do all in your power to do so! It will be worth your while. ^-^ -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] Sen, that was quite eloquent. I'm glad I saw this thread. Your poems tell a story, and utilize imagery to bring it to life, as if your words were a living, breathing thing. The metaphor between love, souls, and a river was beautiful, and although I've seen metaphors similiar to it, you do it in such a unique and intensely emotional way. The second was definitely not as best as the first, but still quite good. Again, use of imagery and metaphor is done very well. "For I know at the end of the fog Is the reward of understanding." Excellent ending. For a poem that seemingly had a very anxious, searching mood, you brighten it up with that last line of hope and expectation. Great stuff. Sen, post more of your work. I would genuinely like to read it. -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] o.o The suicide poetry, it is everywhere. I really liked the last two lines though, the rhyming and the message are such a simple proclimation of losing it in every possible way, losing control, and losing your sense of sanity. Good stuff. -Karma [/color]

[COLOR=deeppink] =\ Someone deleted my beautiful, in depth, awesome analysis of your story! * coughs * Oh well. Really amusing story DW, although it makes me doubt your sanity and/or self-esteem. o.o Honestly, Syk3's personal servant? That is a sad, sad place to be. Unless of course you're Shinmaru, and you're his biatch. Then it's just funny. ^.^ Just kidding. ^.~ -Karma[/COLOR]

Very good, especially for free verse (which I'm generally not a fan of.) You convey the emotion of the poem well, an aching sort of longing, for days, and people long gone. Nice imagery with being stifiled by the person's friviloties. ^-^ Well done! -Karma

[color=deeppink] Alright, being a big fan of Ms. Pierce, I could (and, hopefully, will) add a lot more to this thread, but for now I'm just going to comment on Tricksters Choice, as that is the most recent in my mind. The two things that I really appreciated the most in this new Tortall book was Pierce's seeming deviation in character and setting. Yes, it's still a strong female character, and yes it's still set in the ever magical Tortall, but that is where the similiarities end. Unlike Alanna, Daine, and Kel, Aly is, on the surface at least, a carefree, [i]playful[/i] character. She uses her dry wit and sarcasm with great gusto, and is bold and audacious in a way that none of the previous characters were. All 3 of Aly's predecessors knew what they wanted or needed, and didn't spend much time deviating from that. In that way, they were very much so in touch with reality, even if they dared to defy it.(ie: Alanna is consumned by her desire to become a knight, Daine is caught up in how to survive and deal with her powers, and Kel's main goal to make it as the first known girl knight in training). Aly seems to float upon a constant cloud, and is arrogant at times, which can (and I'm sure, will) lead to her downfall. She has no real purpose or sense of direction, and seems almost lost at times. However, look a little deeper into the character, and you see an insecure person wanting and needing her mother's approval desperatly, searching for some sort of niche in life, something to hold her airy personality down [spoiler](ie: In the beginning of the book, she often wonders and wishes she knew what it would be like to have a lover).[/spoiler] Yes, that was all once sentence. Run on? I think not! As the book goes on, you see she has something to anchor her personality [spoiler]with her new responsiblity taking care of Sarai and Dove.[/spoiler] She takes it very seriously and chastises herself harshly when she fails. [spoiler](As she did when the assasains broke in and Sarai was forced to kill the redheaded woman to save her father.)[/spoiler] I shall be quite interested to see what sort of trip Pierce takes this character on. As I mentioned before, the second big thing that made the book new and interesting for me (despite obvious trends in Pierce's writing), was the setting. It was the first book to take parts of Tortall and put them in a jungle, tropical sort of sense, and it reminded me very much of a resort island in which the locals live off the land while the rich battle for it. I loved the way she portrayed this less 'well to do' raka, she really gave them a sense of soul and purpose. The Code of Chivalry, while quite lovely, leaves something to be desired in the way of 'why are you risking your life for this?' Pierce fills the gap here nicely. ^-^ And thats my...eh...10 cents. Lol. -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] Plateau - As Mimmi said, this poem invoked the feeling of solitude, and the imagery of a person walking through the mountains/forest alone. The message that I got from it was that words aren't nessicary for living, you can go through life being quiet and still have that have an incredible impact. Solitude isn't a bad thing, basically. Suffering is sometimes best done alone. Nice feel. Good job Shin. I'll review the other two later, must go now. -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] My first kiss was with a cat! =D *ahem* No, I do not practice beastality. -.-" -Karma [/color]

[color=deeppink] Name: Daphne Age: 21 (right?) Bio: Daphne was the daughter of rich, corporate parents that were never home. She spent her childhood days dressing up in her mothers' clothes and makeup. When she started school, she of course became one of the popular kids because of her rich status, and rose up in the ranks of popular girl cliques. In middle school, she tried a few drugs, and lost her virginity at some weird party with severly spiked punch. Then she hit high school and banged almost every jock in sight. Her money kept her in the "in-crowd," but her sexually promiscious reputation was well-known. Most of her "friends" avoided her, and guys dated her just for her body. After high school, her parents' money once again saved her, and got her into a half-decent college. There, she completly let loose. Drugs, sex, disco. Not wearing a bra. At one of the wild parties downtown, she met Shaggy, and joined him and Scooby Doo, and hey, we're all one big happy family now. Whee. Not like she had anything better to do with her time. Appearance: The purple dress. The green scarf thing. The red hair. Come on, you're telling me you've never watched Scooby Doo? [/color]