❝we are all searching for someone whose demons will play well with ours.❞ quiet rituals and even quieter conversations; a collectanea. (© promethean 2013; cover by promethean)

anecdotes and shenanigans and punctuation.

A collection of poems that I have collected over the years, and/or some of my very own poems. trigger warning, some stuff is not at all friendly.

a series of poems . what words can do and what words have done. [© avaleo 2014]

It's an endless search for something that even the sharpest eyes cannot see. [Beautiful cover made by rigor_samsa.]

//dəˈkəʊtə// Meaning, ❝friend or ally.❞ ╌╌╌ "It's ironic, isn't it? How my name has the meaning 'friend', when I don't even have any." "You have me."

Sometimes all you really need is a place to call home. * * * NOTE AS OF 04/2026: This is the old version of the story from 2012. It is currently being reprised, which you can also find under my profile here in wattpad as "5:48 [reprised]"

"Sometimes happiness feels like a chore." A short story chronicling the relationships (and lack thereof) of Drew; in which nights and days are spent curled up in the tear-and-food-stained sheets, with and without the warmth of another living soul, because he has lived like this and he'll probably die like this -- whether he likes it or not. (As if life ever bothered to ask). Otherwise known as: Sleep is for the weak, and love is for those asleep. So Andrew shouldn't wonder why he's virtually a self-induced insomniac who might just very well die of loneliness one day.

[COMPLETE ✓] Rumour has it that a new guy is joining our class this year. All the girls are going crazy, imagining all the case scenarios from cliché YA books: mysterious, rebel, bad boy, werewolf, fallen angel, even vampire! The worst part, I don't even think they have read the books; they only watched the films. However, it doesn't make much difference to me, it's not like he is going to see me. No one sees me. Oh but don't worry, I got used to this and I learnt to enjoy it. Believe me, being unseen has its perks. I'll show you. ⋙⋘ Illustrator: Sarah Bochaton

Quinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is disgusting and hideous, filled with trash and pathetic wandering fishes. To someone who believes that Quinn needs to be a size zero to be labeled as 'beautiful.' If she isn't, why in the world will anyone care to love her? She's disgusting. Worthless. An enormous sailboat that makes the world sink. But how long will it take until she sinks herself?