flanoirfaerie

Angst, the poet's muse. Illusion and deceit, mystery and compelling thought, suicidal tendencies, and a bad case of PMS. Alas, it seems, The youth of today is so comfortable utilizing the pain to bring forth art. "Happiness", "Joy", These things are non-existent lost within an "emo-kid's" tragedy, a broken heart and spilled chili. "Blast fate! Blast the heart! Suicide! Slit my wrists! Crush my bones and let me die!" Jeez. Someone just needs a cookie!

 They swam in delicate arcs, breaking the white frothy waves, shooting sparkling water into the air. The songs they sang were like bubbles, the notes flowing up and popping instantly at the first touch of air, making room for the new notes to commit themselves to the same melodious cycle. The Undine frolicked on the beach, their laughter and voices liquid. Their gills flicked and shifted as they breathed and spoke, the sun kissing their dark blue skin and making it glimmer, the exposed portions of their white bellies gleaming like bleached stone. As they extended their slender fingers, they stretched the webbing in between, the translucent