occasionally subtle
Love Begins
taylor price
Not today Justin
EXPECTATIONS
Cosimo Galluzzi
RMH
noise dept.
roma★
pixel skylines
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
oozey mess
KIROKAZE
Keni
YOU ARE THE REASON
No title available
No title available
#extradirty
Monterey Bay Aquarium
shark vs the universe
seen from Czechia
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Colombia
seen from Norway
seen from United States
seen from Vietnam
seen from Uruguay
seen from Senegal
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Bolivia
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Tunisia
seen from India
seen from Morocco
seen from Jamaica
seen from Spain
seen from Argentina
@eliseayannajordan
Poisoned words...
Oh how words fall from one’s lips to the sense of sound of another, caressing their beauty but how many times are those words poison? Do they feed the fable’s ego or do they slowly die as the poison festers in their hearts and words?
I look young But inside I am old And filled with the deaths Of other people.
Terry Moore (via paradizial)
Happiness lies neither in vice nor in virtue; but in the manner we appreciate the one and the other, and the choice we make pursuant to our individual organization.
My sin...
“Ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and freighted with the memories and the dreams of Time.”
[FLASHBACK]
The wind was blowing her long dark hair as her arms were wrapped around his waist. Her cheek rested against his back while her hands rested on his chest when they came to a stop feeling his heartbeat, the rhythm of his breathing as his lungs filled and emptied. And the way his hand held onto hers for that short moment before red turned to green and the wind was dancing within her hair once again.
The two lovers had been out on his motorcycle all night and the day before. She was eighteen and he was twenty-three, he was her soul mate, her heart-mate; the male version of herself. It wasn’t unusual for the two to spend so much time together and it would not be so unusual in the future.
His name was Santino. He was tall, dark and handsome; wickedly tempting as well as Heaven and Hell that walked. She called him Sin as he was that to her. Her Sin, her redemption and so much more; to her he was handsome as some men were but born with sex appeal that many were not. He was as beautiful as the Memorial for Shelley in Oxford that she had seen on postcards and one time in person. Sin touched her soul and brought her to life.
The two met while she was sixteen and attending art school painting outside in the park, no words were spoken at the time as she noticed how he watched her caress the canvas with her paints of oil. But when she was done, he had asked to purchase it from her but it was not for sale.
“Then if I cannot purchase it may I take its creator to dinner and try to persuade her to sell it?”
His voice was hypnotizing drawing her into him. She once told her best friend that she had fallen in love with him that first moment. Something about him made her feel as if she was home; if she had found that piece of herself that she lost. But what was it? She did not know but even her parents knew there was something there between the two never denying them to be together as they had seen a different side of their only daughter when she was with him.
But the fates were not kind to them. The beings of Time were strumming their yawns of life weaving it and knitting into their plans. And it was cruel.
It had been months since they had received the news that he was not to walk with her for the rest of their lives as they had planned. He was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer of the heart and his body was slowing as his heart could not keep up with what he wished to do. The tears she had cried when he told her were deep and painful, wounded and bleeding but he was the one that was the strength.
And this ride was to be their last.
Days had passed since they had spent those wonderful days on his motorcycle trying to escape what the Fates and Destiny had in store for them but alas, they could not outrun; Sin was lying in the bed that they shared when she stayed with him in that beautiful loft as it overlooked the city echoing the sounds of horns, sirens and people off the concrete walls.
Her hands entwined with one of his as she tried not to allow the tears to fall from her blue hues, she caressed his cheek and touched his lips with the fingertips. His fingers upon her flesh spoke to her when words could not and she leaned into them hoping and praying that they would never leave her.
“I will always love you, Elise, my precious flower; happiness and joy I never knew existed until I saw you that day in the park and for the days after. I will look upon you from above, watching you. I will always be with you. Never forget that.”
A soft smile appeared on her lips as she leaned over and whispered in his ear only words for him before pressing those same lips to his softly but lovingly before leaning back, kissing the back of his hand before lying down next to him as she would do, her head on his chest listening to the most beautiful sounds a person could hear. That heartbeat that slowly softened against her ear.
His final breathe was taken and released slowly without pain. He had died where he wished to in his bed with her there, as he had told her weeks before. But now he was at peace as she felt her heart break in to pieces as the tears finally could not be held back any longer.
She didn’t move for what seemed like an eternity as she couldn’t believe the Fates had been so cruel ripping away the only one that would ever understand her, know her and love her but she also knew something that many did not but he did. Sin knew, as well.
Their hearts were very old friends and their love was an ancient one, always returning and always finding the other.
“People say that déjà vu doesn’t exist or is not real; how can we explain the visions, the dreams and the nightmares of the past?”
The raven haired one sat in the living of her friend as happiness and excitement echoed off of the walls at the talk of pregnancies and children. Twenty-something but alone without any chance at this time of marriage or even children, she tried to block out the happiness but stay within the conversations but it was hard for Elise as images flash into her thoughts and mind.
A headache began before she closed her eyes to block out the light for just a moment. Coming to her feet, she excused herself as her friend allowed her to rest in one of the rooms upstairs. Soft footfalls finding the stairs as they travelled upstairs to where she could be alone, visions of another time, another place begin to invade her mind. Memories, were they? She didn’t know as she finally made her way to the large bedroom she had been occupying since her visit began.
The weight of the mattress of the large bed shifted as the slight frame of hers found its way to the middle as if the room on either side of her was protection or a moat of a castle now allowing enemies to gain access to her.
The blue hues now hidden by the eyelids as darkness now settled into her mind lying there trying to find calm…a peace over her as she waited for sleep to consume her. Maybe sleep wasn’t what she was looking for but a peaceful place within dimensions. The outside world gone from her thoughts and the sounds muffled and quieted except to feel the rhythm of her own breathing. In and out the breath entered and left the slight frame of the raven-haired one.
With every breath that escaped her lungs, her body fell deeper into darkness of the caverns of time, feeling her body heavy as she lies there on the softness. The sound of the ticking clock echoed into her mind but was it the clock or was it something else? Was it the beat of her heart or the sounds within the darkest abyss of her mind? She did not know but whatever it was, she travelled further and further. Was she Alice chasing the rabbit down the hole? Time would tell but it wouldn’t be a long wait.
FLASHBACK
The bricks were what were left over of the ancient Romans as her soft footfalls fells onto the red bricks as she walked through the paths of Romania. It was winter and the mountain air was cold as a storm groaned over the mountains. Snow blew around her pale skinned face as she tried to stay covered. She often walked amongst the people of the village as she knew many of them growing up with so many of them as her family were humble merchants and not a part of the royal family but it did not stop her from socializing with who she once knew.
She was not of the humbled families any longer as she had married into the royalty of Romania not but a year before. Her husband, Santino, was to be King but even he did not look upon the title as something he wished for as she did not wish for the title of Queen. The two wished to be man and wife, normal as they could be enjoying their lives and their togetherness. From the time their marriage had been arranged something that she could not believe still as his father had picked her out saying she was like a rose hidden under the snow waiting for the spring to bring her colors to life.
From the moment the two were married, they did not act as Prince and Princess but as two people falling in love with the other. And as quickly as the love their shared grew, she realized that a new life grew within her as well. And when she had told him, he began to spoil her more so than before. Gifts of gold, jewels and so much more as his excitement overwhelmed him at times as he also knew it was to be a girl. Soft laughter fell from her lips the day he told her that it was to be a strong but beautiful girl that she carried. The name they had decided upon was Elizabetha and as the months began to pass, her stomach began to grow. The attentive nature of parents, husband and all alike was too much at times but she was still allowed to travel outside of the castle even though enemies were vast which she was never to be left alone when she traveled to the markets.
The day that fate was to be her enemy came as she decided to visit the markets for new flowers for their living chambers as well as purchasing a gift for his mother for her upcoming birthday.
Stopping at one of the stands filled with flowers, greenery and candles, a smile appeared on her lips as she smelled the different scents of it all. One of her ladies-in-waiting was near her helping the raven haired one to purchase many of the flowers to create an arrangement for the bedchambers of her and her husband. He always allowed her to have fresh flowers as she did not wish for many other items. He spoiled her with jewels, books and other gifts but it was flowers she loved the most. Especially at how each scent was an aphrodisiac for certain senses of the human body. But it was the roses she loved most of all. The different colors and so vast at the shades, of how they grew even near where they were in the mountains. Reds, pinks, blues, and so forth. She had to have all of the colors.
Gently and delicately as she could she picked up each stem of different colors in the straw woven basket that her one ladies carried. She was deeply engrossed in picking out the best ones in all of the choices before she moved on to a lady that had woven silks and tapestries. Long fingers gently caressed the soft fabrics as she moved through the large stacks of items of blankets, tapestries, brocades and silks when she felt the sharpness of pain tear through her body. Hand quickly moved to her stomach as she almost doubled over before sitting down.
“Get me back to the Castle. I need to get back.” Her voice filled with pain as tears welled in her eyes.
Quickly, she was returned to the Castle and rushed to their chambers when she felt wetness between her legs as she cried out in pain. Looking down, crimson colored fluids covered her skirts and undergarments as her voice turned into a scream as another jolt of fiery pain seared through her abdomen.
Chaos ensued as the doctor was called and as her ladies were staying by her side. Tears of loss could be heard from her mother and his while her body was discarding her child as if it was a foreign object. Beads of sweat form on her face as well as she feels some travel down the valley between her breasts. Or was it the water from clothe that was being used to cool her flesh? Tears streaked her cheeks as she could not believe the fates would be so cruel or the gods.
Crying out for him when she heard his voice they would not let him enter before darkness consumed her sending her into an abyss and the evils she fought there.
Struggling in her sleep, she felt strong arms try to hold her down but still she fought. Fighting the gods. Fighting the fates as her dreams and nightmares entwined as she fought for the life of her daughter but nothing changed the truth. Her body miscarry the child that she and Santino were so happy about, wanted and wished for. Why? She asked herself every moment. Her mind tormented as her body was trying to heal. How could he forgive her? How could she forgive herself? Blame and guilt entered into her heart as she blamed herself over and over. She believed she was not strong enough and then she believed she was not good enough for her husband.
~ Days Later ~
“How can I be a good wife and queen if I cannot even carry a child?”
She asked herself over and over. Everyone tried to tell her that it was not her fault that sometimes Mother Nature had her own plans but nothing helped. Nothing saved her mind from its descent into madness and no one could pull her back from the edge. Her family tried, her husband tried but nothing was working as the blame, the memories of the pain and the crimson stain on her skirts.
Standing on the balcony of the chambers, the cold wind blew her hair around as it had been kept down as she felt the snow wet on her cheeks. Numb to the cold as she wiped away some of the wetness, her sapphire eyes dark and already showing loss of life as she stared out over the mountains of her beloved home.
A step closer to the edge she takes and feels the wind become stronger before turning back to look over her shoulder into the large room; no one was there. Once again, she looked forward and another step was taken before she felt nothing under her feet but the emptiness of the wind as it wisps around her almost enveloping her as her bodily descent was now catching up to her mental one.
Château de Champ-sur-Marne, France.
The Devil whispers...
“The Devil whispers to me at night - it mocks me because I don’t have him by my side. And then… I wake up with a smile.”
The sense of hearing invaded by the loud calling of the church bells announcing the time of 1:00am, the Witching Hour as so many have called it through time and eras. A smile curled her red lips as she looked over to the ones trying to take over the docks in her city. A gold plated hand cannon she head in her hand aiming at the one gentleman in front of her as his Glock 9mm was aimed at her. A game of Russian roulette was at hand as Markus, Vincent and one other were standing around, guns held high at the others. How she hated when men came into her territory believing that since she was a woman, she was weak as a babe. Oh how they foolish think.
“As I said I am not afraid to get my hands dirty, my dear,” her voice soft and raspy. Did he truly believe she was backing down? Oh how she hoped he did believe that on one hand. “Shall we flip a coin as to who shall fire first?” She asked as Markus pulled a coin from his pocket tossing it over and over in the air.
“Heads.” The one man said brining his knuckles up under his chin, clinching the tips of his fingers on to his red tie; pulls it loose and undoes the first top bottom of his crisp white shirt. He overlooks her face in his snarling and quenching a set of sapphire irises onto his and looks around at the men staring, stepping in, heads poking up over others as they walk on by. He looks down, sets his sights on to the alligator skinned shoes that were standing his ground from in each one of his breaths then slides his right hand in to his pant pocket, swings out a coin and tosses it up ion to the air saying, “Call it.”
Laughter escapes her lips before she speaks. “I am not going to use your coin, Donovan. How do I know that it isn’t a double sided coin with just your portrait?” Irises scanning the darkness around the man in front of her waiting for a surprise but nothing…as of yet…sense of hearing being invaded by the simplest of things but her sapphire hues were on the man before her…magazine pages being flipped as the driver of Donavan’s black car was paying no attention to the crowd standing before him.
“I call Tails, mon cher,” her voice strong but laced with its normal raspy confidence. The urge to pull the trigger was strong with Donovan as his finger twitched and a smirk curved the corners of her lips. The crowd standing in behind him stood in silence, the money they had lost has them now in a lost themselves and the hunger for reimbursement and gratitude is beginning to overwhelm unlike the feeling that possesses their player.
Silver sparkles in the light of the moon as the coin dances in the air…everyone waiting to see what it lands on. Sounds of the coin hitting the ground echo into the night sky as it is finally revealed.
Heads.
Icy sapphire hues never leave his darker ones as Donavan’s lips curl into a smile, no expression on the spider’s face. She stands there waiting for the familiar sound of the soft caress of the forefinger over the trigger but all she heard was emptiness…and her lips curled into a wicked grin. Donavan’s expression was that of shock and despair as reality hit him. His gun was empty but how?
“Oh, you should pay your men more, Donavan then they would be loyal to you.” She spoke as two others step in behind the man in the dark blue suit, each grabbing a hold of his arm as he stares at her…fear in his eyes as he knows what is to happen next. “Never did you have sanctuary…never did you belong…and now you will look at nothing,” her final words fell on his deaf ears as she fired her hand cannon. Blood splattering onto the men holding him, “get rid of him and the others then clean it up.” She ordered before turning her back listening to the explosive sounds of gunfire as she walks back to the car.
“They will never learn that what is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.”
The blood in my veins...
You caress my soul with your undying attention. My eyes fulfilled with your sensual presence. You wrap my heart in your blanket of devotion. The blood in my veins flows only for you.
When there is a thirst for desire you quench it. All my needs are served with due diligence. The love and passion for you is endless. The blood in my veins flows only for you.
Every moment with you is frozen in my heart. Your laughter and smile bring joy to my existence. You blend with me on every level. The blood in my veins flows only for you.
“She has a mouth like unswept glass—-when you least expect it she cuts you.”
Junot Diaz, “Otravida, Otravez (via luciaferr)
Winter Palace (Зимний дворец) in St. Petersburg, Russia
Be yourself...
This is for anyone, man or woman, that has been looked down upon. Enjoy.
All my life I have been condemned for my beliefs, my wants, and my needs. So many have claimed that they did not fear the baser instincts of what we are, but in the end they only proved to be liars. Tell me; if so many believe in truth why not believe in the ways of desire, temptation, and lust? I’ll tell you why…too many fear those emotions. Many see them as taboo, feelings that are better left hidden in their minds. All of us contain primal urges yet so many of us run from them. I am not one that runs but embraces such thoughts and emotions. Why fear something that is a part of us all? They say fear it because it is Sin and sin will lead to damnation. Fear it because it is wrong, fear it because it is meant to be kept secret and behind closed doors where no eyes can see or pass judgment. They say that women that embrace such feelings belong on a street corner stalking the night. I say they are wrong. Just because we embrace desire doesn’t mean that we sleep with anything and everything. In fact, I am rather picky on who becomes my mate. But the way I walk into a room will turn heads. Confidence in ones form can open the flood gates and encompass the senses of not only yourself but others within your vicinity.
How many times have you come across that one man or one woman whose aura, energy, or essence seemed to fill the room they stood within? Those particular people have learned to accept the baser levels, the darker side of primal needs and they will use it if not bend it to their will. Ladies, realize that all of us are extremely sensual creatures. Stop listening to the media, what they believe to be sexual or physically appealing is a LIE. Learn to embrace everything you are, everything you shall ever be or become. Memorize every curve of your form. Focus on things you find attractive about you and force yourself to look past the imperfections. I have imperfections and for too long I focused on them. Now the person I am no longer sees them. This goes for the gentlemen as well.
Stop denying truth, stop running from who you are. Embrace like an old lover, become your own lover. Realize that no matter what anyone says to you that they are truly blind and shall never find anything true. They will continue to live their lives day to day choking on their lies. Let them, no one can be saved if they do not wish to be saved. Sexuality and sensual natures is not a crime; it is not a sin; it is NOT something to ashamed of. Embrace it and you will embrace who you truly are
Sanctuary is yours...
Abysmal darkness, blood on my fingers Is this a dream, a living nightmare? My eyes stretch open to the night,
“Enter here, you will be safe.”
Her voice soft and enticing Luring you in.
“Deny if you want, ignore what you will, I shall not cause you harm or bring you pain.”
Porcelain skin, raven hair tantalizes your mind, Sapphire blue irises look upon you, coldly But you cannot escape her mystery, her air
But the hour is late as you stand there, Before her, Helpless. You are now her victim.
Once again, her voice heard; soft and raspy.
“Come in, friend. Sanctuary is yours.”
If you are not ready for her to call you at 3 AM freaking out, if you cannot handle her at her worst, if you only crave for her curves and not her mind, if you cannot deal with her mood swings and if you want her just for sex stay the fuck away.
Unknown (via danger)
[Flashback]
The same nightmare invaded her sleep every night. It was rooted deeply into her subconscious and she had tried to bury it…kill it…but the grave diggers of her mind constantly dug the old thing up just so she had to relive and remember everything…the pain…the anger…and the power of knowing how revenge warmed her soul. Memories of a wonderful and loving childhood was replayed over and over once her eyes slipped closed, blocking out humanity and of the conscious mind.
Always wondering if sleep would come to her or if paintings of the past would play in her mind like a movie upon a screen, her body began to toss under the white sheets of her bed as she shifted trying to run from something that she knows she can never escape…no matter how fast she tries to get away.
Voices begin their dialogue within the movie and now she feels her eyes, even though closed, begin to tear as she feels her body begin to become hotter, the hold of the sheet tightening around her just as if death is gripping her throat as she watches the past while her fingers try to remove the noose that closes around her throat from the blackness of the night. A soft cool breeze slowly caresses her body trying to fight away the demons but even it is no match for her nightmarish sleep. She tosses and turns before feeling the gentle kiss from her mother’s lips upon her soft skin and the soft smile she gave to her before leaving the house as she was spending that Sunday outside with her father on that cool Spring morning.
Her anxious sleep calmed for a moment as love and gentleness stroked her skin…for just a moment. But that moment quickly left her as her fingers reached for her mother and father as she watched them disappear into the darkness…calling out to her parents. “Don’t leave me…don’t go.” The same words always being yelled out until they are not heard any longer because of a loud explosion….
Elise’s heart was pounding in her chest as her body jerked upwards as she awakened when she heard the familiar sound of an explosion…the scent of black powder invaded her senses as her ice blue eyes scan the large open room of her loft, knowing the coarsely fine powder was on a table towards her kitchen as she and a few others had been building their own explosives for the reckoning that was coming. The scent didn’t leave her as her nightmares brought it to the fore front of her mind.
Her breathing was short and raspy as her hair plastered itself to her wet flesh from the cold sweats. Trying to move, she looked down as the sheet was wrapped around her legs as if it was to bury the dead and throw her into a deep hole in the ground. Her fingers wrap around her neck looking for the rope that was once there or so she thought.
She was twenty-two. Memories, nightmares and the horrors of losing her parents were like a fresh wound but her sleep kept putting salt in the wound. It had only been a year since she had lost the two most important people in her life. Both of them shot but her father lost his life while her mother survived the gun shot but not the loss of her mind when she lost the only man she was every in love with and when she took her own life; the wound was ripped open once again.
Breathing was becoming easier as she able to escape the soft fabric wrapped around her legs and her feet touched the cool wood floor of her loft. Standing slowly, wearing just a t-shirt and panties, she stretched her long body before taking a tentative first step towards her kitchen. Her fingers wrap around the handle of the refrigerator before grabbing the orange juice and drinking out of the container making her way to the long wooden table that was the catch all including where she sat to eat dinner when she ate, if at all.
Placing the container down, her long fingers ran over old photos of her and her parents, moving them side to side. A smile on her lips as she sees some of her when she was a teenager and had not a care in the world but her music, her dance and parties. Memories of the trouble she would get into with friends made her laugh.
Her blue hues looked up over to the gated elevator that led to the way to the outside world sat her Harley Davidson, the motorcycle her mother scolded her for and her father just shook his head giving her a hug knowing his daughter walked to the beat of a different drummer. The picture she held in her hand was one of her in short shorts and a t-shirt, not any different than what she wears now except the jeans and leather jacket look better on her twenty-two year old body than it did on the scrawny sixteen year old.
How she rolled her eyes at her mother when she told her she was a lady and shouldn’t ride a dangerous motorcycle? How she remembers the argument that ensued afterwards? She loved her mother very much but she always seems to have the last word but now Elise knew the women were fighters. She knew her mother also protected her and she would raise Hell if anything happen to her daughter and she was a bit overprotective of her.
But how she remembers her father’s reaction.
Remembering how he came out and looked over the engine and had her start it up to just hear the sound of the rumble and to feel it. She had never seen her father so in tuned with the sounds of an engine as he was that day. She saw pride in his eyes for this and for many other things but one thing; he was allowing her to be her and not forcing anything upon her.
But the trouble she did get into was something to remember.
Throwing the picture she held her hand down to the table taking another swig of the last of the orange juice; the sun was beginning to kiss the new day. Rubbing her eyes with her free hand to wake up as the tears welled there knowing even after a year; the wounds were still fresh and always would be.
I mean, I hope you’re happy, But the sky is still the sky without you, And I’m not surprised by that anymore.
Caitlyn Siehl, from This is Not a Love Poem - via 5000letters (via perfect)
“There were crimson roses on the bench;they looked like splashes of blood.”
It this truth or masquerade?
Where shall I begin? Oh yes…
I was born just as everyone else has been in the past and will in the future into a family of business, power, mystery, and the arts but none the less it was a home filled with love and care. My mother bequeaths me her love of the arts as she was the performer upon the stage and was renowned for her performances in Shakespearean plays; it was where my father first saw her. She also has a love for music that she shared with Elise as soon as she could read the notes on music. She would spend hours with me, teaching me and sharing her knowledge that was given to her by her father. I learned to play the violin as my way of solace and heaven, to be captured by every note. ”Allow the music to flow through to your soul…it is your gift to others and to yourself.” I remember her saying to me when I was a child and I shall never forget them.
Shall I continue or have you heard enough?
You ask of my father. Well, this might take some more time…my father was a man that was brilliant when it came to money and how to make it, granted it may not have always been legal but I do not think that bothered him one bit.
His business was a mystery to me as I was growing up and later he told me it was to protect me and my mother but when he began teaching me of the family business; I knew the company he owned was just a front for something more for you see, my father was the head of a very powerful family as he followed in the footsteps of his own father. Oh I guess you could say my mother knew about all of this but she kept me involved with music, dance and allowed me to be a child who did not know any better but to have a normal childhood filled with everything a little girl could dream of.
Anyway…I digress…
Where was I? Oh yes, my father’s business… The company was started by my grandfather and it was a large marketing firm which handles clients from all over the world. Little did I know, the companies that it represented were all controlled by families of the same power and wealth but these companies were just the skeleton of the real business practices. Late night hours, killings, people disappearing and much more was what my father knew but did not share any of this with me until I was older.
But I shall not divulge any more information about the family business as it is none of your concern, really.
As for me…I learned about life through my parents and I learned of the arts from the greatest schools. I was a student at Julliard for dance as well as acting. Dancing is my passion and I perform to this day on stage with the masters. I spend much of my time in New York but I tend to travel with the company when I am performing or asked to perform with other dance troupes for countries such as Russia and France but I always come home to New York.
As for the family business…well, I am a part of that as well since it will be mine once day. Now I know the secrets and mystery of my father’s life but I have also learned new tricks of the trade of manipulation and masquerade…to me, it is just another performance but one that the mask must always stay on or risk everything.
And now…it is time for you to leave as I shall share no more. Are we friends, you ask? We may…then again, we may not be.
