Peredhil

Hugs quietly

Peredhil Dances in lightly, brandishing an epee and repeating Daffy Duck's famous Robin Hood sequence. Parry...Thrust...Feint...Parry...Thrust...*sproing* At the last, his nose grows enormously and suddenly bends at a right angle to point heavenward. Straightening his beak, he sheaths the buttoned sword and begins rummaging around in his pocket. He pulls out a hairy rusty-reddish ear which fills the small pocket of the fencing uniform pants. Continuing to tug, out pops a small Orangutan, just beyond the baby stage, wearing a diaper. It scampers over and happily climbs Gwaihir to shoulder perch. Happy Birthday... AP-E for you.

oh ho! Nicely done. The bittersweet nostalgia of the past - firmly kept in the past. As I prepare to go to my 25th High School reunion, it's amazing what baggage wells up into my head... Nice timing on this (for me at least).

It's dark but glimpses of light and purpose shine through. I had a bit of difficulty reading through it, as it seemed to imply punctuation in places that lacked it, and there were minor spelling errors. That said, this reminds me of the deep symbolism of the better animes - a Utena-type complexity. well done.

Looks momentarily guilty at having been caught, then saunters casually toward the door, whistling aimlessly and innocently.

Hmmm. I suppose it depends on perspective and motivation. If the suicide is trying to prove that they really WERE that upset or needy - they don't get to see the results. The only people who hurt and care are usually the ones that the message wasn't aimed toward in the first place. The rest move on quickly in a strange embarassment, ignoring the sudden senseless-to-them death the way they'd ignore someone passing gas in an elevator. If the suicide has reached the ultimate realization of a Godless Existentialism, then they realize the utter futility of attempting anything at all, including life, and expire from frustration at the meaninglessness and futility of it all. If it's a social statement, or an attempt to show how much they think their life sucks, the message is usually lost. Most suicides of this type tend to be accidents - they wanted the effect of the attempt, but wanted to hang around to see if it got the desired results. Oops. Now the dangerous ones are those who feel so badly, for so long, that they'd rather feel nothing at all. Unable to afford self-medicating drugs such as alcohol or heroin to numb themselves out, feeling hopeless and trapped, they still have the energy to act - and so they quietly and without fanfare kill themselves. Statistically they are male, late twenties to early thirties, don't bother leaving a message because they really no longer care what anyone thinks, and plan it quietly and carefully. They leave oddly polite touches like carefully locking the door with a warning not to enter, so as not to shock the cleaning staff, as though embarrassed at the necessity of inconveniencing someone yet one last time. Are you in a different category, or does one of these fit? You can find a great deal of empathy for pain on these boards, you might be surprised at how creative types seem to suffer. Which gives a strange numbness, in turn, to just whining. After all, people who've endured abuse, incest, outrage, humiliations, rejections, misunderstanding, torture, loss of parents or parents removed legally, etc, etc, etc, somehow have trouble listening to a papercut. On the other hand, it's not a competition, and everyone's pain is unique and powerful to them, and should be acknowledged and respected. I am rambling this morning, aren't I? I suppose that this was prompted by what I saw as the drama and 'fishing' nature of your 'want to bet?' mystery statement. If you want help - state the problem and the type of help you want. If it is essential to you somehow that you need to be drawn out with mysterious comments over a long dialogue - state it up front so we know where your goal is. Some of those who frequent the boards would want to help you, as a Karmic payback for those who helped them, but have limited time to commit to what comes off as gaming. Hugs and moves on to the next thread.

heh, exceedingly abundant indeed, to get twins. Motherhood poems are neato! Fatherhood poems seem to be filled with changing diapers, wishing for more than two hours of sleep at a time, and worries at what they are unleasing on humanity. No wonder Mother's Day is one of the most popular holidays!

Laughs in delight. Heh, Gwaihir used to do the same sort of twists on me until I learned to be wary. Clever! Have you ever heard Alan Sherman's "Six-foot two" parody of the song "Five-foot two"? begins humming it as he moves to the next thread.

Peredhil thinks about laughing and applauding, but looking at Yui-chan, and catching a rare glimpse of her Aegon behind her, managed to keep a reasonable straight face. Excuse me, he stands, I've got to step out for a moment. It is a testimony to centuries of control that he makes it out the door and down the hallway before the laughter wells irrepressably...

You've never been a jerk in my experience. His delay is our gain. Write whatever, whenever you can/feel the Muse. You'll always be part of the Pen member Lists. -Peredhil

You have a neato grasp of showing a scene and embedding a feeling in it. Do you think maybe that: The weather has came and gone again should be: The weather has come and gone again ? Well done.

I like this. Reminds me of a Moody Blues song in a way. Did you hear music in your mind when you wrote this? I think this would be a nifty song.

Oomph. Like a fist to the gut. Whether the chains are physical or metaphysical, restriction of freedom is a harsh challenge to overcome.

Yay! A Happy Poem! Peredhil does the Happy Dance in reflected joy for her feeling.

Wonderful! Thank you for solving that mystery.

Peredhil beams happily as one he has long awaited returns, worn and weary with the world's tribulations writ on his visage. Guido and Nuncio lead Finnius to the waiting room of Wyvern's Recruiting Office and prepare him a sumptious meal, while Elrohir subtly puts a pad of paper and a pen at his elbow in case he should want to write an Application... Welcome, welcome, welcome. You don't know how much some of us have missed you. Glad to have you back, on whatever basis. Finnius has come, Brings light and joy to my heart - Haiku's Patron Saint. -Peredhil

Happy Birthdays to y'all! Happy Birthdays to y'all! Happy Birthdays Dear ... y'all. Happy Birthdays to y'all!

I want more...

oh okies. I didn't realize that the soul was plural - souls. Soul's can also show possession - it was that particular soul's last breath, or, the last breath of his soul.

Oh! I LIKE this one! Indomitable resolute facing the world and spitting in its eye. Yeah! Go LotG!

Muses What a heavy burden to place on someone you love - responsibility for your feelings...

okay... it's been a while! Let's see the progress!

Ah love! swoons To feel that giddy physical rush, when all around her seems light (because of pupil dialations of desire, but let's not be chemical and calculating, let's just enjoy the feeling while it lasts... shall we?)

strange twist on the ending. Alas? It suddenly sounds with the last word as if the Speaker isn't one of the Wonderful people. How strange.

This is nicely done. I should recite this to my Muse if I can find her again - perhaps she'll hang around long enough for me to write instead of respond.