The7thLoonatic

I blame Disney. Fairy tales don't exist in real life, but Disney has spoon-fed me magical stories of romance and - well, romance. Disney princesses have pretty much molded me to look forward to nothing but romance. It sucks thinking this way, mostly because, at the same time, I know there's not really a fairy godmother to wave a wand and whisk me away to the ball. I know I'm not going to end up in a castle and develop Stockholm syndrome on a prince turned monster. I know I'm not a mermaid, and I know mom isn't a mermaid either. Not that I could follow these paths, anyway, because I'm Asian. But I can't save my motherland from barbarians, mos

I look at the little things in life. I guess I should be paying more attention to the big picture, but I'm not much for looking too far into the future. Makes me nauseous. I guess I should explain. No, I don't get premonitions or anything like that. I don't "just feel" things are going to happen. I don't predict. I know. The history of the world, the universe, it's just all an open book for me. Except for the nausea. Generally, you don't feel like you're going to toss your cookies after you've read a book. The farther away from the present I look, the worse it is. Sometimes I use it, sometimes I don't. It's not something you'd necessarily wa

And in the moonlight, under the lamps they ran, Through the parking lots and jumping over vans, And in the moonlight, that's where their story began, 'cause in the moonlight, no one can tell what you plan In the twilight, they watched the setting sun, Winding down from a day of fun, And then she got up and she started to run, And when he caught up, he asked her why she had begun And she told him, "I'm tired of being outdone, And I don't want to stay where we can't get anything done, And so I'm running away, before I come undone, Running from the nothing we had and to the something we won" And while the moon rose up from her bed of

Sometimes I feel like it’s me against the world. I don’t remember my biological parents. I grew up in an orphanage, where my earliest memories came. The first thing I can remember is my old friend Pinkster, shaking me awake, yelling, ‘the ice cream truck is here!’ We were best friends, playing in the playground, chasing away the smaller kids away from the sandbox, so we could rule our desert kingdom side-by-side, fighting off our enemies with shovels as swords and buckets for helmets. When pitted against older children, we stuck together and managed to escape, laughing at our own daring and wit later. It wasn’t too h

The bell rang and students filed in. A mixture of Ravenclaws and Griffindors took their seats, exchanging the day’s events to each other. The moment their teachers stepped into the dungeon, however, they all fell silent. “Settle down,” said the first professor as he swept past the many desks, but there was no need for him to say so – his mere presence commanded stillness. Severus Snape had that odd ability to demand silence without doing anything - and with good reason. His intimidating stature made him quite a fearful figure, and his eyes were piercing and cold. He gave the impression of someone with a dark past, or at