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My life in words.
Created on 2003-02-01 14:42:51 (#882211), last updated 2008-11-06
1,945 comments received, 2,541 comments posted
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1,229 Journal Entries, 0 Tags, 14 Memories, 10+ ScrapBook Files, 0 Virtual Gifts, 15 Userpics
Basic Info| Name: | Gaby Rizzo |
|---|---|
| Birthdate: | 12-23 |
| Location: | Springfield, Virginia, United States |
| Website: | MySpace |
BioThis is what I am.
We held hands on the last night on earth.
Our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the fields and under the trees, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves.
It was empty on the edge of town but we knew that everyone floated along the bottom of the river.
So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease.
In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."
The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide.
We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress.
The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop.
The few insects skittered away in hopes of a better pastime.
I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked you if you would accompany me in a quick fall, but you made me realize that my ticket wasnt good for two.
I rode alone.
You said, "The cinders are falling like snow." There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty, bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence.
Of blue and grey.
Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city.
The sun has stagnated somewhere beyond the horizon and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines.
Still, we lay uner the emptiness and drifted slowly outward, and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message.
♥
"Evil is a point of view. We are immortal. And what we have before us are the rich feasts that conscience cannot appreciate and mortal men cannot know without regret. God kills, and so shall we; indiscriminately He takes the richest and the poorest, and so shall we; for no creatures under God are as we are, none so like Him as ourselves, dark angels not confined to the stinking limits of Hell but wandering His earth and all its kingdoms." - the vampire Lestat
Our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the fields and under the trees, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves.
It was empty on the edge of town but we knew that everyone floated along the bottom of the river.
So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease.
In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."
The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide.
We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress.
The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop.
The few insects skittered away in hopes of a better pastime.
I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked you if you would accompany me in a quick fall, but you made me realize that my ticket wasnt good for two.
I rode alone.
You said, "The cinders are falling like snow." There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty, bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence.
Of blue and grey.
Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city.
The sun has stagnated somewhere beyond the horizon and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines.
Still, we lay uner the emptiness and drifted slowly outward, and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message.
"Evil is a point of view. We are immortal. And what we have before us are the rich feasts that conscience cannot appreciate and mortal men cannot know without regret. God kills, and so shall we; indiscriminately He takes the richest and the poorest, and so shall we; for no creatures under God are as we are, none so like Him as ourselves, dark angels not confined to the stinking limits of Hell but wandering His earth and all its kingdoms." - the vampire Lestat
"Do you realize that! We'll never know why the hell any of it happened, not even when it's over!" I shouted at Nicolas, who was sitting back on the bed, nodding and drinking his wine out of the flagon. "We're going to die and not even know. We'll never know, and all this meaninglessness will just go on and on and on. And we won't any longer be witnesses to it. We won't have even that little bit of power to give meaning to it in our minds. We'll just be gone, dead, dead, dead, without ever knowing!"
But I had stopped laughing. I stood still and I understood perfectly what I was saying!
There was no judgment day, no final explanation, no luminous moment in which all terrible wrongs would be made right, all horrors redeemed.
The witches burnt at the stake would never be avenged.
No one was ever going to tell us anything!
No, I didnt understand it at this moment. I saw it!
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