"Red Rum" is screamed
and all is still,
Witnesses on the sidelines,
habeas corpus fulfilled.
need a hint?
** HINT **
spell red rum backwards :)
welcome to dewdrops, loves. it's been a while, but as usual... sit back, relax, and enjoy -- preferably with some tea...
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
Thursday, December 31, 2015
a small shower of happiness
I LOVE RAIN. RAIN IS BEAUTIFUL. RAIN IS ELECTRIFYING.
As you can see, because I am hyperactive right now due to the rain.
At first, it was a slight patter, a few raindrops kissing the damp ground as petrichor filled the air.
Crystalline drops ricocheted off the window and ceiling, beating a steady lullaby into the evening darkness. Streaks of gold-tinted rain marked a wide-striped pattern under each street light, and the moon was shrouded in a cloud fur coat. The only shimmering specks in the sky were drops that had caught a bit of light, replacing the stars hiding behind their celestial curtains. The patter grew into a rattle, and the city was eventually enclosed in a whirling storm, spraying great raindrops in a myriad of directions, each hitting a surface or the ground and melting into a puddle. Small streams caught leaves on the sides of streets, making perfect little boats for frogs and fairies. Such torrents continued into the morning, and the lullaby that once had everyone drifting off into the dream world woke them up gently to the same pattering. However, quite contrary to popular belief, what this storm brought was not moping inside around a dreary fireplace, but laughter and joy as bright-colored jackets were donned and children ran out into the rain, leaping and splashing around with everyone else.
**It has been a long time since I've posted, and I am so sorry about that! At last, school, finals, and the holiday rush is over, bringing me a peaceful December 31 to transport me and hopefully all of you into a safe and wonderful 2016!**
As you can see, because I am hyperactive right now due to the rain.
At first, it was a slight patter, a few raindrops kissing the damp ground as petrichor filled the air.
Crystalline drops ricocheted off the window and ceiling, beating a steady lullaby into the evening darkness. Streaks of gold-tinted rain marked a wide-striped pattern under each street light, and the moon was shrouded in a cloud fur coat. The only shimmering specks in the sky were drops that had caught a bit of light, replacing the stars hiding behind their celestial curtains. The patter grew into a rattle, and the city was eventually enclosed in a whirling storm, spraying great raindrops in a myriad of directions, each hitting a surface or the ground and melting into a puddle. Small streams caught leaves on the sides of streets, making perfect little boats for frogs and fairies. Such torrents continued into the morning, and the lullaby that once had everyone drifting off into the dream world woke them up gently to the same pattering. However, quite contrary to popular belief, what this storm brought was not moping inside around a dreary fireplace, but laughter and joy as bright-colored jackets were donned and children ran out into the rain, leaping and splashing around with everyone else.
**It has been a long time since I've posted, and I am so sorry about that! At last, school, finals, and the holiday rush is over, bringing me a peaceful December 31 to transport me and hopefully all of you into a safe and wonderful 2016!**
Friday, November 20, 2015
definitions matter
I whipped the wooden paddle back, preparing to execute another rampage of beating. I cracked the blunt weapon against his smooth, round, red skin. Drops of blood-red splattered against my hand, leaving stains after I wiped them away. I licked my fingers, savoring the tart sweetness. He stayed silent. Giving him a hard look, I tapped him twice before drawing the club back once again to strike the garnets out of his pockets. I pummeled once again forcibly, showering blows left and right upon his helpless skin, watching in satisfaction as more jewels rained from their hideaways. I grasped him by his sides and turned him over to reveal the white skin on the other side. Satisfied that there were no more gems to be found, I tossed him in a black plastic bag and walked away with my bowl of ruby red pomegranate seeds.
Thursday, November 5, 2015
accidents happen...
Hello everyone!
whoops :)... If you find that your comment has been deleted, it's most likely an accident unless your content is extremely offensive... and when I mean extremely, I mean... EXTREMELY :) so don't worry about that...
Me accidentally deleting comments is because I always want to reply, but instead I remove the content instead... so bear with me, please... thanks <3
Accidents happen all the time, and they range from earth-shattering to clumsy mistakes.
I like to think of my life as a work of art. Instead of covering a mistake up, I make it part of my path, and who I am. There is technically no such thing as a mistake. Sometimes, I think it's like life telling us to stray off of the road that we have built for ourselves, for us to fall off a stepping stone and discover the little fish in the water. You can always find a way to keep going from the mistakes in your daily life... think of it as a FRESH start, a yarn ball just waiting to be unraveled.
whoops :)... If you find that your comment has been deleted, it's most likely an accident unless your content is extremely offensive... and when I mean extremely, I mean... EXTREMELY :) so don't worry about that...
Me accidentally deleting comments is because I always want to reply, but instead I remove the content instead... so bear with me, please... thanks <3
Accidents happen all the time, and they range from earth-shattering to clumsy mistakes.
I like to think of my life as a work of art. Instead of covering a mistake up, I make it part of my path, and who I am. There is technically no such thing as a mistake. Sometimes, I think it's like life telling us to stray off of the road that we have built for ourselves, for us to fall off a stepping stone and discover the little fish in the water. You can always find a way to keep going from the mistakes in your daily life... think of it as a FRESH start, a yarn ball just waiting to be unraveled.
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
fresh
fresh...
the smell of freshly printed books
petrichor, a fresh, earthy scent
fresh fruits, sweet yet tart
crisp, clean, fresh clothes, still warm from the dryer
(actually we hang our clothes up to dry them when weather permits... eco-friendly :) )
a fresh start, a new world
cold, fresh mornings
fresh, breezy evenings
crunchy, fluffy, fresh snow
freshly brewed coffee
tea, fresh and relaxing yet invigorating
nothing's ever just "the same old"
not even homework, or school, or any work you need to do...
the smell of freshly printed books
petrichor, a fresh, earthy scent
fresh fruits, sweet yet tart
crisp, clean, fresh clothes, still warm from the dryer
(actually we hang our clothes up to dry them when weather permits... eco-friendly :) )
a fresh start, a new world
cold, fresh mornings
fresh, breezy evenings
crunchy, fluffy, fresh snow
freshly brewed coffee
tea, fresh and relaxing yet invigorating
nothing's ever just "the same old"
not even homework, or school, or any work you need to do...