Final Fantasy: Advent Children and No Bravery by James Blunt.
I found this old gem while looking through my earliest Youtube videos. My first ever music video, and still the best one I’ve ever made.
Final Fantasy: Advent Children and No Bravery by James Blunt.
I found this old gem while looking through my earliest Youtube videos. My first ever music video, and still the best one I’ve ever made.
Water Lily.
Shot with an iPhone 3GS. I just upgraded to a 4S, so pics are coming. Just like winter.
Journey, or On The Platform.
Lonesome Horizon.
I delay one day, but don’t say I have to pay to stay on my way. Will be on time next weekend, was occupied otherwise yesterday. Until then, feel the tree’s loneliness. Go on, you know you want to hug it.
I told you there would be Omaticaya.
Morning Glade
I have returned! Updates will finally resume. First off is this old photo that was just waiting to be published. Pretty, innit? ^_^ Next week, there will be Omaticaya. Stay tuned.
Hunting Session
This was a school project last summer. Hastily done, and could have used a lot more work. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it.
*The song Session belongs to Linkin Park and Warner Bros.*
The Fire will Spread and the World will Burn
It is Sunday night, and a boy is running for his life. The boy’s name is Marcus. There is no one behind him, nor is there anyone in front of him. Nothing moves in the street except for the boy, and no sound is heard other than the thumping of his shoes on the asphalt. The August night is chilly, and calm, with a hint of rain coming in from the south. Marcus does not think, nor does he feel anything, he acts purely by instinct; the instinct to survive. That instinct will fail him. He will run and run until his lungs are on fire, whereupon he will stop, and stopping will let the fear catch up. Fear causes panic, and panic causes bad decisions. Insane fear leads to extremely bad decisions. Not only the fear will catch up with the boy, but also the past; the yesterday he would wish had never happened, had he been able to think. It is Sunday night, and a boy is running to his death.
One thousand kilometres to the north, exactly one week earlier, a girl is running for her life. She, too, has no room for thought in her head; there is only instinct and the distant howling of an insane fear banging on the doors to her skull. She, too, is running not only for her life, but also to her death. The girl is merely 17 years old. 17 years and 358 days old to be precise. Had it not been for the mired power plays, combined with a touch of laziness, of a race of celestial beings, some 300 million kilometres away, the girl would live to be 18. Now she wouldn’t, since a door that should be closed had been left opened. It had been left open in the same sense that a fire door is propped open because “there never is a fire and never will be”, whereupon a fire starts, devouring the building in a conflagration that would have been hindered by that very same fire door. In this metaphor, the fire door is a dimensional gateway situated at the dark side of the moon, and the building is the planet earth. Just as a fire starts small, so does the destruction of the world. Sloth had suddenly reached new heights.
As the girl is running, to return to the story, a thought pops into her head, as thoughts are prone to (especially panicking thoughts placed by an otherworldly being).
“This is not real.”
It is answered by a second thought, which is really more accurately described as a Survival Instinct, and right now, it is the only thing keeping the girl sane.
“Yeah, it’s real alright! Now stop thinking and keep moving!”
However, there are more thoughts beginning to line up in a not-so-orderly queue, Insane Thoughts even.
“What is behind me?”
“Is this a dream?”
“Why is this happening to me?”
They are all shouting at the top of their (metaphorical) lungs, elbowing each other in the (once again, metaphorical) ribs. The Survival Instinct valiantly holds the Insane Thoughts at bay for quite some time, until it can endure no longer. Eventually the Survival Instinct gives up all hope and starts crying in the back of her head. The torrent of thoughts bursts into the girl’s consciousness and causes her to miss a step.
Lying on the rough asphalt, clutching her scraped knees and hands to cope with the pain, the girl is now sobbing violently. The good thing about pain, is that it scatters thoughts like a gunshot in a crowd. Insane Thoughts however, being reminiscent of rabid dogs, return much faster than Regular Thoughts, and with the Insane Thoughts, comes the fire. “A tentacled horror”, would some mad Arab perhaps call It, but what the girl sees and experiences in her last tortured moments of life, is beyond horror. It is, in a sense, the ultimate psychological weapon in the history of the universe, and It feeds on her raging fear, insanity and horror. It is alive, and It is hungry for more. More than 6.8 billion people and a six-sextillion-ton-heavy lump of rock can satisfy.
For a split second, the girl regains enough control over her mind to reactivate a previously shut down instinct and starts to scream a wordless howl of agony. The horrific thing has now finished feeding and is letting go, albeit not without dessert. After a sickening crunch, the girl starts cramping and soon falls limp to the ground, dead within seconds. The coroner would in eight hours time diagnose her with spontaneously crushed heart. As if the crazy, wild eyes and the half-chewed-off tongue won’t be difficult enough for the parents. Her name is Lisa, and her death marks the beginning of the end.
(To be continued…)
Smoke on the water…
Last Sunday’s extra post has been delayed to this Sunday, due to fluctuations in the space-time continuum. Yeah, I don’t really know what that means either.
Between Heaven and Earth.
I spent the last week in Štip, Macedonia, for a training course. Which is why there was no update last Saturday. I’ll make something more tomorrow to amend that!
Also note that this is a raw image, with no digital work on it. I just wanted to get an update out today, and didn’t have time to wait for my slow computer. But I think it’s pretty good as it is. :)
Autocannibalism. It’s not perfect, but kind of amusing still. :3
Collab time! Credit for the component images goes to Peewee, or KiDang. :)
A spiced-up photo of a rainbow over Akkajaure, from my hiking trip with my father to the Swedish fells. More pictures from that trip to come!
The Fall of Josayah
Once upon a time, there was a man named Josayah. He was a simple man, humble to the Gods. He lived in Saradh with his wife and the two youngest of his seven daughters. Saradh was a big city, one of the largest in Karalmda, and Josayah’s family resided in the middle-class district. They were hardly rich, but they weren’t poor either, and most importantly, the family was happy.
Josayah woke up one day to find himself in the most delicate predicament. Before he even opened his eyes, he knew there was something wrong. First of all, a harsh wind was roaring in his ears, and second, he felt as if weightless. Opening his eyes led nowhere, since all he saw was the midday sun shining down, as if calling out “hello” to him. Looking around however, proved his growing suspicions.
Josayah was falling, fast. A colossal black object obscured half his vision, and the rest held only the sky and the sun. Josayah was not a fool, and even a fool would know what the black object meant.
His fall had apparently started at the Edge of the World. Well, it wasn’t really the edge of the world, it was just the highest mountain in the world, the black mountain of Kebnegros. Now, the thing with Kebnegros was that the top of it was sort of leaning out over the base of the mountain. Below it laid the Marlak Plains, a dead wasteland where nothing lived. The Marlak Plains were actually more of a valley or a gorge, sinking down into the ground far below sea level.
Josayah’s people claimed that it had once been a great sea, an ocean, but the fury of the Gods at the actions of legendary Marlak had caused the water to evaporate. This anger still lingered, and would always remain there, and it scorched every living thing to the bone.
It was the same heat that caused the blackness of Kebnegros, so that no snow ever fell on it. What lay beyond the Marlak Plains? No one knew, and that was that.
He wondered what he had done to have the wrath of the Gods befall him. Was it the annoying customer he had been slightly rude to last week, or maybe that street urchin yesterday who had begged for a coin and only gotten an encouraging word back? Josayah knew that the Gods were peculiar at times, but never had he heard of something like this happening before.
The fall was starting to drag out, and Josayah wanted it done with. Let him hit the Marlak Plains and be smote against the ground so that his soul could be freed from this worn down shell of flesh to join the ancestors. As said, he was a simple and humble man, and Josayah was content with life. All of his seven daughters were married or betrothed and half of them had children. His wife would grieve him. Yet the grief would be consolidated by her knowing he had found peace with the ancestors.
He looked down and saw that he was about to pass the ground level and enter the dreaded valley.
Then he glimpsed it. Just for a moment, so short that it might as easily have been his imagination, the clouds formed letters in the sky, spelling out “barmal”. The monks told of a demigod so kind and just that his superiors, full of anger at his naiveté, decided to punish him. His name was Barmal, overseer of kind actions among men. He was strapped to a broken mast from a sea raider ship, and trapped at the bottom of the ocean. There he would hang over a fissure streaming forth boiling water, so that he could feel the scalding evil of man till the end of time.
Josayah recited the story to himself and felt a wave of relief surge through him. It had probably been his imagination, he knew this deep in his heart, but thinking he knew why he had ended up as he was calmed his heart. A wasteful thing, getting executed for being too kind, but a gladdening reason nonetheless. Sending out a final loving thought to his wife and daughters, he let go, and after the thud there was only silence.
The end.
Just a little more content for tonight. GET DOWN! Thanks to Kladdpapper for the idea. ;) Go follow her, she’s awesome.
