Musing Stories

The ancient and tragic journey of the vampire Vittoria de Luca Bonenfant as she so vividly recalls. The struggles of an immortality she deems to be forsaken by God. A Christian who is loath to see her faith wain. A vampire with the profound inability to take mortal life and allow the warmth of human blood to make florid her pallor skin so that she might not be, in her view, this grotesque and perfect vision of conscious death. A vampire at a loss as she wanders the grey twilight- » » With you I leave my confessions, as in those wretched wooden rooms. Do with it as you like; tell it to your one, or to many, or burn it with my rosary, which I surely have blasphemed. How long ago the mortal soul in me was lost, I do not know. How long ago since I said, "Take me," with such hatred in my eyes. "Take me now from this cruelty!" But non, He would not. I know He has left me, my God, my Savior, my Abandoner, turned His crystalline gaze from my ruin. But with nervous hands and nervous breath did I pray to Him still, my breast cracked asunder as I strained to hear Him. But lo, that I heard the cold laughter of the Morning Star, and was blinded by the Son of Dawn. I said the words, "I will not go with you, Devil," and the Devil, who became the serpent of my rosary, and like a strange stigmata, bit my praying palm, pressed my fingerstips to his pallid lids, as though he felt a pull at his heart like so many strings. I loath him and do unto him cruel things. I like to do it. Because it is I, alas, who had become the Devil in the end, a savage Devil with sweet, ruddy tears at the rending of mortal flesh. Now, I daresay, no earthly living thing binds me to gracious mortal empathy, that mortal beating heart in its miserable rhythm. I have not eyes for their mourning visage, nor ears for their desperate cries. No heart for them. No heart. No heart that He may never forgive. #1 Poetic Prose #1 Musing photo credit: Laura Makabresku

What do you do when the world is quiet but your mind won't shut up? 3:04 A.M. is a haunting, intimate collection of fragmented thoughts, whispered confessions, and emotional snapshots scribbled in the dark. Equal parts journal, poetry, and stream-of-consciousness therapy, this book captures the sleepless moments where memories hit hardest, regrets echo loudest, and truths are too raw to say aloud. With the vulnerable honesty of a midnight voicemail and the strange comfort of a stranger's open diary, these unsent messages explore love, loss, nostalgia, and the beautiful chaos of being awake when everyone else is dreaming. This is not a book you read - it's one you feel. This is especially made for anyone who has ever stared at the ceiling and thought, "I shouldn't be feeling this much right now."

Seeping thoughts, falling through quiet and estranged fingers. Can such fluid chaos be caught? Can it be taught to fly, its fear stopped? Out of the cage that sadness has wrought, into the open that freedom shakily bought.

Just a series of unrelated one-shots about Big Head and her misguided but well-meant inventor/mother.

I was in Pune for two weeks. There was a 3 day weekend coming up, and I had nothing to do. I decided to live.

EYYYY poetry, some of it is old stuff that I'm transcribing from old notebooks of mine. Get ready for yet more angst and emohood. Hopefully some of it will be new and slightly more palatable.

Carmilla and Laura muse on the concept of change, phases and metamorphosis and Laura can't help but wonder if Carmilla's attraction to her stems from her own personal metamorphosis. But if that were the case, what was it that Carmilla saw in her? (Just philisophical ramblings, no plot).

Mdkn

Nothing to say

An original poem.

A chance encounter with a pet bear leads a young woman to consider her own freedom.

Humans are vulnerable to negativity. We are exposed to negativity as we are to air. I guess the only way to get rid of it, is to first accept that something is wrong with us and then try to get into the root of the problem.

smatterings of late night poetry attempts, messy dealings with change, letters that will never be sent, and love letters to an aching earth.

It is a captivating and introspective poem that takes readers on an emotional journey through the complex tapestry of memories and the passage of time. Written with heartfelt introspection, this poignant piece explores the bittersweet nature of grasping at fading moments and the profound impact they leave behind.

Living in a society where people judge you all the time , there struggle to survive a young girl with a heart a little to sweet for the world . Meet Audrey your normal sixteen year old who's also a little psycho . She's as tough as a nut but no one knows who's the girl in her .

On the people and feelings that come in and out of our lives. Some of which are constants, while others ephemeral, but both just as important for making us, us.