THIS HALLOWEEN

WHUT. xD

I figure we need this topic so we can plan where we're all trick or treating and what we're wearing and stoooof. Because last year I went with like thirty other people, and that was too big a group. Besides, they weren't awesome like you guys. xD

SO.
I know fo sho I'm going with Super Lauren and Bella - but do you guys wanna come as well? I don't know if you already have plans or somethinggg.

I'm going as the Mad Hatter; Laureni is going as Alice; Bella is going as the Cheshire Cat.
We're all stylizing our costumes to fit our tastes - so mine is probably going to be Kodona Lolita; Laureni is doing psychedelic make up, and Bella is painting her point shoes black.
What are you guys planning? If you don't have any, you wanna jump in?

I have no plans. I don't know who I'm going as. Yeah I really wanna do something though...

What's Kodona Lolita?

And if I can finish my Maka cosplay before Halloween I'll go with that.

I haven't planned who I'm going with yet... whose neighborhood are you going to?

What time are we meeting at the library?

So many questions.. x'''D *is tired*

Ugh.. Kodona Lolita = http://www.lolitafashion.org/kodona.php

Neighborhood = mine

Library = idk

I WANT TO GO WITH YOU PEEPS BUT WHO WOULD I BE!?!!!!!!!!!!!

Library @ 1?

That sounds awesome let me ask my parents~ :]

We need to let Carly know...

I've been home alone the whole morning.. and I don't know where my family went.. o_o

THAT WAS FUN GUYS! 8D

YEAH IT WAS! 8D

I also had to write a little bit, or I would have felt guilty not participating properly.. :[


SO:


There was no God.

The path which led to my small, abused cottage was dark and wet with last nights rain. The echo of droplets resonated throughout the thick forest, pattering dully in the silence. My boots squished in the mud, leaving behind footprints - I was the only one who walked these parts. I readjusted the heavy pack on my shoulder, grunting at the shift in weight. I focused on the flex and pull of the muscles in my legs and arms - the feeling of air, thick with dead leaves, filling my lungs; the crack of a stick beneath my right foot; the weak breeze that hardly brushed my exposed face and forearms.

I did not have any thoughts beyond that of my physical being. I knew I existed; knew I was alive, in the sense that my heart beat quietly and my bones always ached. I was aware of my hunger and my thirst; my desire for sleep and my bad habit of cracking my knuckles. My aliveness, though, ended there.

As I came to the threshold of my home, I pushed open my door methodically - undid the lock and ambled inside. It was alarming how I had lost all light - in all senses of the word. The forest canopy was suffocating - even to the birds. It was rare I heard anything pretty singing in the morning. The occasional woodpecker, interrupting the soothing rhythm of my weaving, but I was sure the morning birds, too, required sunlight to survive. Life needed that warmth - yearned for it throughout the desolate winter; mourned its departure with the cold sweep of fall.

Then, I would weave. Numbly; steadily; avoiding all thought of everything I had lost. I kept my mind a smooth black slate, void of thought as I worked through my instinctual activities and habitual weaving. The past was to me a beautiful, broken doll I couldn’t bring myself to fix, for fear her porcelain pieces may cut me once again.

My first night in Raveloe had been hollow and senseless. My dead gaze followed the rows of flat, unvaried fields of corn and wheat with bitter disinterest. Despite my greatest efforts, the only thing I could do was compare it all to Lantern Yard.

Raveloe made my chest constrict - a feeling of claustrophobic disgust. I wanted to be sick. Not because the town was ugly, but because it wasn’t my town. The roads smelled and the sky was a dim, white-washed grey; far more despondent and sad. I stared down at my hands - followed the lines across my palms and the wrinkles at each joint in my fingers - they were my own. This disappointed me. If I was someone different, maybe God would love me as they said He always did.

I wondered at that; let the gears in my mind turn for a short moment as I tried to imagine where I would be - how I would be feeling - if I was not Silas, and I still trusted God. This proved futile. If I believed in nothing, surely I believed I existed as myself.

I dropped my pack with a heavy thud onto the floor; let a sigh slip from my lips as the slightest ache beat in my chest. I focused on it - let it blossom and grow until my fist crumpled the front of my shirt and I curled in on myself. I forced a shaky breath; made my way to my weaving; emptied my mind and pushed out the twisting pain.

I had nothing left to live for, so why did it still hurt?

TT^TT That was awsome. NOW I FEEL FERRIBLE FOR NOT WRITING!

Don't feel bad, Soul. I'm used to doing your homework for you.