glassvanity's Journal

ev er yt hi ng
Posting Access:
All Members , Moderated
"Eyes were being scratched still and tattoos applied, but no one could or ever would hear the full secrets of glass. He was re-writing his story everyday, moving the fixed destiny point, with every triumph and mistake. Every kiss held new promise, every song knew disaster. All were sung to the ghost children, the synthetic flesh flash of ideal glitter gash in their dreams they saw him surreal, but he was as real as they needed him to be. Discarded until he roared back into their vision. Within blood and sound , once invested there was no turning back for anyone. Plastic playmates and wooden rock rot haunted their hari hari plots in glass' obvious plays for sympathy. Or was it the other way around he as a general leading them all into war that he and they knew they could never win but still they fought to love and always die standing moving in faces every once in a while in rubble and wreckage strewn, he had fought way to long jam wired shut and now he held too long past sleeping futures and endless newscasts, seeking shelter and a place to once again call home in the dark he would fumble with food and foe, seeking contact and knowing confirmation cells sign agreement over concrete cold, always remembering and as if drawn he would lumber on, gun in hand and tears in heart he tried to keep a journal but kept losing the pages pictures of trees dates taped on his chest he had gone mad but there was no longer anyone who heard or respected to tell him so the grass grew very fast and it seemed he had to cut it every four or five days in radio static he waited for an order that may never come he never wanted to be out in the direct sun , but the tree sang him to sleep the weeping willow out back seemed to hang it's hurt, so obvious and no one seemed to mind, out the window he stared, seeking her.........." ::Glass and the Ghost Children VI::

::I will complete his lost journal:::

I would like all of you to make a journal with me, it will be it's own story and unfold upon it's own will....</color>