user since
Wed May 28 2008 at 20:26:38 (16 years ago )
number of write-ups
120 - View antigravpussy's writeups (feed)
level / experience
8 (Encyclopedist) / 4194
C!s spent
mission drive within everything
to love and live
even in the dark I can see
The Conglomerate, bitch. 7 independent minds rule this wasteland
good will prevail
categories maintained
Of Dragons and Magic and Thunderstorms, The Conglomerate
most recent writeup
the heart of a unicorn
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100% tortured artist, absolutely genuine article


my armour, my hide, my scales, my fire; I am becoming anew, the chrysalis breaks



when i pick up the phone

youve sort of gone deaf, i think

i know you cant hear me

but you never could

on the other side a strange

white noise

your soul leaking through, slowly

over the years, i guess, i will learn how to live

without your memory

as you faded long ago, like a ghost in that

forest where you used to take me

only the mushrooms remember




I know you're out there

I know you can hear me

don't worry, don't despair

pick yourself up again and dust off your dreams

get the coals ready, I will blow life into

the chaos machine

And soon enough

we will have the fire going again

burning and churning and spitting, full of horror

because that's what you are


child of monsters and fairies and angry old dragons




They did your portrait



I am a fairy child/those who are born of dragons


They said she was a monster
she liked to listen to the wind
and it always talked to her
They were afraid of her
she was neglected
living in her dreams
weaving stories for the moon
avoiding the monsters in the dark
of which she knew she was not
They said she was dangerous, cruel, even evil
They said many things which burned into her soul
But they never told her
that her skin would turn to scales-that her eyes would pierce them
that her sparkly polished finger nails would always resemble claws
and the way she moved away from the pain but twisted back
with a vengeance
Her reptile tongue and flaming heart
bringing her the wings
to fly






I believe in dragons.




If I could change the interweaving threads
the slight, slinking ways of yesterday's words
If I could find the crumbs you dropped on
your way to the castle beyond the dark woods
maybe I could pick up on the silence in
your eyes and unwrap the stitches keeping you
inside your own drifting dreams
If I could


Isabelle and the Dragon

I keep thinking I should end the story about Isabelle and the Dragon, but then I keep getting pulled back into their beautiful and enigmatic mess of love, destruction and hope. I am guessing, that at times, parts of their motion movements won't read as easily as others. I have purposely twisted any hope of any real timeline and inserted a lot of loose ends and unspoken emotion. At times, Isabelle and the Dragon are together alone, and then again, they are together with their father. For the most of it, Isabelle is living solely through her memories, thus enabling her to return to places she has once called home, but which no longer exist. She may also suddenly remember moments of great happiness and joy as if they were happening a new.

Contrary to Isabelle's role, the Dragon is a diffuse and mostly shadowy character, living through Isabelle's actions and words. It is the Dragon's task to defend Isabelle when the story turns surreal and frightening. The Dragon usually tells the story, letting us watch Isabelle dancing around, which is something she likes to do. The Dragon's gender is not defined.

Currently only two parts are being told by Isabelle. These are from Isabelle to you and the song of starfish


The storyline of Isabelle and the Dragon:

1. stranger with no intentions

2. the difference has blurred

3. from Isabelle to you

4. turning fluid, oily and tar black, seeping through all the cracks

Interlude. interlude; take your stormy weather along

5. painting stars that have not come to be

6. the dreams that should have died

7. the song of starfish

8. a dream you did not have

9. Now she's in my doorway, accusing me with her soft breasts and long legs, strong hips.



12. ..







And Isabelle is sitting at the table, guiding her beautifully gentle hands across my coarse paper

I want you to know; it does not matter, it never has. I have wanted you to move on

bound and tied and hidden - you smile, almost candid

Isabelle says to me already gone, already gone

we were never here to begin with

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