Emotional sadism...

I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead. He is just away.
With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand,
He has wandered into an unknown land.
And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be since he lingers there.
And you- you, who the wildest yearn
For the old-time step and the glad return-
Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of there as the love of here;
Think of him still as the same, I say;
He is not dead-he is just away.

James Whitcomb Riley (1849 - 1916)

Why do I always prefer poems that make me sad? Perhaps I am an emotional sadist.

Even My Dreams Are Twisted...

THAT'S IT! No more Harry Potter for me! I had the most disturbing dream last night, involving Remus Lupin, Sirius' mother, and a bathtub. No... get your head out of the gutter, it wasn't that kind of dream, but nonetheless it was rather unsettling.

I am treating myself to a night on the tiles tonight. Ok, so Maxims isn't exactly an upper class tile, but it serves alcohol and I plan to get smashed. I am going to conveniently forget that I used to go to the exact same place as a fifteen year old for fear that I may be regressing. In a week I'll be drooling and crawling around on all fours. Wait... I already do that.

There is a yellow rose on the mantel piece and I don't know how it got there. Hmmm... yellow roses mean friendship... can't be for me...

How does one put weight on their wrists? I have no desire to develop any podge but I have the forearms of a six year old, and the veins reall really stick out... I suppose it would be helpful if I were a heroin addict but alas... I don't get my jollies out of needles. It's really beginning to bug me, if I hold my hand up I can almost see through my arm, and my hand looks massive, but that's only cause my wrist looks like a toothpick. Somebody put me into proportion!

Anyway, more importantly... what shall I wear tonight? I know, such a female question, but it needs to be addressed because I am a lazy bastard and I am also depressingly indecisive. Come midnight I will still be sitting here typing away because I am to lazy to get off my pretty little arse and shave my legs and I will probably need a good solid three hours to choose and outfit. Black always works, especially for Maxims, but... do I want to blend in or stand out. This needs to be addressed before I can be dressed.

Fuck it, I'll go in my pyjamas, then I'll be ready to fall into bed and prepare for my hangover as soon as I get home. Yeah, that's a plan.

I also haven't posted any yaoi pics in a while (snape/harry cannot count as yaoi) and I feel the need to remedy this, if only because the one person I know who reads this thing gets freaked out by boys rubbing up against other boys:

Hee hee hee hee! SasuNaru!

I have far more hardcore pics, but I fear for the anklebiters, and I fear for myself when the anklebiter's parents hunt me down with pitchforks. It comes to something thought, when I'd rather ogle drawings than photos... but the imagination is so much better than real life! At least I understand that I am mentally ill and can accept it with all the aplomb I can muster.

Perhaps later I will post a more hardcore pic, if I muster up the courage.

And now... piece de la resistance...

SEITEN TAISEI!

Nuff said.

Harry Potter? Severus Snape? Hot Sex? *vomit*

I am taking a break from this vicious cycle of self torture. I am (for some reason) reading the Harry Potter books in reverse order. After just getting over Sirius' heartwrenching death I now find myself immersed in PoA and I'm contemplating the kitchen knives in a very unhealthy manner.

I hate tragic heros of any kind. They all make the bottom lip go all aquiver.

In some need of Sirius shaped comfort I went for a wander around the Sirius LiveJournal communities and fell (completely by accident) upon a Snape/Harry fic.

SCARRED. FOR. LIFE.

I am a rabid Yaoifangirl, but there are some things that squick even me. I mean, come on... Snape and Harry???? O_o

I feel ill. Okay, okay, so I continuously pimp the 93 relationship from Saiyuki when alot of people view it as incest (it's NOT! Goku is NOT Sanzo's son! Goku is 500 years OLDER than Sanzo for fuck's sake!) so I may be acting slightly hypocritically. But still...

Harry having sex... SEX... with Snape! Using potions as lubrication and doing things with a wand that would make Voldemort whimper. Do you think if I shove soap far enough up my nose I'll be able to wash my brain?

In other news... it is likely that Prince Harry will face a battlefield ban. Yes, random of me I know, but I was swelling with national pride not long ago knowing that the fitter of the two princes (in my opinion) was willing to go to the front line with the troops. I realise that he would more than likely attract insurgent attacks and all that but the idea of a royal putting his blue blooded arse on the line had me all atwitter.

Atwitter??? Is that a word???

Also, my mates are all going on holiday and I can't. No dosh. No fair. Where did I put those kitchen knives?

Saying that, I did just buy a ridiculously expensive ticket to go see Carmen in November. But even if I hadn't decided the opera deserved a visit from yours truly I still wouldn't have had enough pennies. I need to find a rich older man, marry him, then wait for him to kick the bucket. I'd have no trouble shaging a wrinkly arse if it meant a few million, I have no scruples.

As it is, I'm just gonna pull on my boots, go find good old reliable Alex, shag him senseless, steal his wallet, and take my corrupt self shopping. I am evil, but the bastard will forgive me since he has a blind spot where I am concerned. Besides... he's loaded and I'm skint.

Ten points if you know who this is.

No?

Ok, I'll tell you. Tis a young Gary Oldman *wibble* therefore a young Sirius Black. I felt the need to justify my attraction to Mr Oldman. This is my justification.

I'm sorry. I had to. It's just wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. *shudder*

Going to go scourgify my brain now.

The best thing about the Star Wars prequels...

Daaaa da...

Da da da daaaaaa da...

Da da da daaaaa da...

Da da da daaaaaaa!

*

And out of the Jedi robes....

*collapses*

Oooommmmmmmmmmmmmm

Careful kiddies, I've got my zen hat on and I'm feeling indulgent...

For your pleasure, a story from the archives of the Ninth Tier:

Long ago there was a stone mason who spent each and every day in the basking heat, chipping away at the base of a mountain for stone. On one particularly hot day, the stone mason returned from his labours to find a procession of finely dressed strangers passing through his village. In the middle of the throng was a wealthy man, langurously seated upon a golden seat, carried along by his servants.

The stone mason wished with all of his heart that he were the man on the golden seat, then he wouldn't have to slave away each day to make ends meat.

To his surprise, his wish was granted. He suddenly found himself draped over soft cushions, sat upon a gilded chair, carried along by his numerous servants. He was incredibly happy, but the sun crept higher and higher in the sky, and the man grew hotter and hotter. Eventually he could take it no more. He stared up into the sky and wished he was the sun, then he would be the one to shine down on everyone, and the world would worship him.

His second wish was granted. He suddenly found himself high in the sky, burning brightly upon the world. Without him there could be no life upon the world below, and he felt infinitely important and adored by all. But without warning, great clouds floated before him, casting a shadow over the world and hiding him. He became angry that he had been outdone by a cloud, and so he wished that he were a cloud, then he could float anywhere in the sky, and he could choose whether the sun would shine on the world or not.

His wish was granted, and suddenly he was a great cloud, traversing the sky as though he owned it. He cast a huge shadow on the ground beneath him, and he was happy. But before he knew what was happening he was moving against his will. A gust of wind was blowing him far away, and there was nothing he could do about it. He felt completely poweless against the wind.

He wished he were the wind. Then he would truly be able to go wherever he wished, and he could choose to uproot and move anything he desired. His wish was granted, and he became the wind. He found that he could move with great speed across the sky. He could be a light breeze, or a terrifying hurricane. But suddenly he came up against something he could not move. Something massive and solid blocked his path through the sky and he was unable to move it. When he looked at what was barring his way he found that it was a mountain.

He wished that he were a mountain, nothing would be able to move or hurt him. He'd be a strong, invincible presence; unmoveable and eternal. His wish was granted, and he became a mountain. He felt completely secure, knowing that he stood tall above everything else in the world. But suddenly he felt a sharp pain in the stone he was made of, somewhere far far below. What could make something so huge and indestructable feel pain? Something far more powerful than a mountian surely. So he wished to be the source of this pain, then he truly would be the most powerful presence on earth.

His wish was granted, and he was once a gain a stone mason.

See, I can be deep when I want. I was feeling philosophical.... meh, I was bored.

If you don't get the moral of the story, may god have mercy on your soul, and no cookies for you.

Somebody get me out of this snowglobe!

The blossom trees around my house are shedding. It's rather pulchritudinous actually. The sky is overcast; it looks like it's raining white blossom, but the petals are dancing to the ground rather than falling. I feel like I'm trapped in a huge, resplendent snowglobe.

I prefer cherry blossom. We have a cherry blossom tree in the garden but it's only a diddy little thing. It reminds me of the bonsai tree my old martial arts teacher used to have. I adored that bonsai tree. When he kindly ordered me to never ever touch the tiny tree due to the fact that it was over 100 years old I decided that it was the coolest thing on the planet. It had seen over a century for christ's sake! I could practically see the seasons washing past it over the decades and I felt oddly humbled by the mini tree. It was the first time I was ever confronted with my own mortality. That tree is older than I will ever be, and it will probably still be watching the seasons pass long after I'm dead. It's odd how something so small can have such longevity, but just look at Yoda. The dude was 900 years old when he finally kicked the bucket!

Look, I'm being morbid again. I'm not a morbid person really, but I've been reading Harry Potter and I always get depressed around the part where Sirius dies. He was my fav character. Boo.

I love his hair in this picture... is it wrong of me to be attracted to Gary Oldman when every bone in my body is screaming at me that he's an old man????? *sigh*

I'm listening to Der Rosenkavalier, the Trio. The most beautiful music ever concieved of. I think Strauss may have descended from the Ninth Tier himself. But I've had enough of enticingly somber Opera, I think I'll move on to a bit of Nine Inch Nails. I am the definition of eclectic.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Weren't expecting that were ya! Not after me goin' on about cherry blossom and Opera! I felt dirty talking all cultured, I had to put the tone back in it's place with a little YAOI! I'm not a massive fan of Naruto, but I go all wibbly over SasuNaru, and this pic just tugs at me in very intimate places! *nosebleed*

First Post in my new and shiny blog!

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

-

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, by Dylan Thomas. One of my fav poems. No, I am not a sap. It makes me think of the last time I ever saw my grandmother. Okay, mebbe I am a sap. And bloody proud of it.

I deleted my other blog. I dunno what I was on when I wrote most of those posts, but I refuse to believe I was sane and sober. Probably high on pain medication, but meh.. what can ya do?

Therefore, all hail the new online diary of yours truly. Supercilliously entitled "The Ninth Tier Of The Seventh Circle Of Heaven On High" *takes a bow*

I am off to google for yaoi imags now. Yes, I am a dirty, filthy, debauched, rabid yaoi fangirl. I think I may have been male and a homosexual in a past life. Nice to know that the desire to see men nekkid transcends even the barriers of time and space when it comes to my immortal soul.

And for your viewing pleasure, a pic from the archives of the Ninth Tier itself:

Mwuahahahahahahahaha! I love this pic! Dropped to my laptop straight from heaven itself!

How on earth did I manage to include morbid poetry and smexy yaoi boys in the same post? Ch -- innate brilliance I suppose. And now I am off with my depraved self to see if I can't find any Sanzo/Goku fics, or if I'm lucky... Obi/Xani! There aren't that many out there! *drowns in own drool*