kriszeth: (christmas on my own)
wow, it's almost the end of the month and i just noticed i haven't updated at all and well, i don't really wanna rn.

i'm still kinda blank faced about the jin thing that must not be named less i start bawling, only i can't and that makes it all the more ;_______;

and i'm kinda miffed you know, because i had kinda planned how to spend my two week vacation only that the day i got outta court SOMEONE DECIDES TO ANNOUNCE HE WON'T BE COMING BACK TO KATTUN, COULDN'T YOU AT LEAST HAVE WAITED UNTIL WORK WAS BURYING ME UNDER PAPERWORK TO DO IT, DAMNIT!!!!

but that is not here not there. i don't intend to make this entry all woe-is-me, because a lot of people have already done it and i think [ profile] gothicauthor explained the practical part of all this better than anyone can ever do it here.

either way, the point is  guys i'm getting a box at the post office and i intend to get my money worth back, so people who want to be penpals with me, please to PM your address =D
yes, i put the point in bold letters so as to make you read it.

kriszeth: (christmas on my own)

lost. in the middle of the woods no less. two children sit at the shade of an old tree whose trunk is chipping, dirtying their supposedly immaculate white uniform.

"this is all your fault," the little boy grunts, a frown in his pale face belying the pout on his pink lips. "brat"

"sorry," whimpers the little girl beside him, contrite and hiding her face into the scrapped knees she hugs to her chest tightly, feeling tiny and teary, but she will not cry, oh, no.

she just wanted to get a better look at that pretty flower and the butterfly, is not her fault the others kept walking away and if he's so mad about it, then why did he have to wait for her, she didn't ask him to DDDD:

"mom would get in trouble," a drawling voice, not in his head, but beside her, answered.

"uh?" she raised her teary-eyed face towards him.

"how do you think your parents will react when they know you got lost? they'll blame mother and stuff. that's why we shouldn't move too much, so they can find us easier. so your stunt trying to look for the cabins by climbing up the tree was silly, the foliage is too tall and hide them from view. be happy you got nothing broken, brat."

when he talks like that, it makes her feel small and stupid, isn't he supposed to be six years old too? how does he know big words like foliwhatever? and of course he'd worry about the problems she could cause his mother. his mother hates her, after all. maybe if she was alone she would have been left to die in the woods. so maybe it was a good thing he is with her, this way his mother has to look for them if she wants to see her son again.

"sorry," she repeats with a sniff and then hisses when a lock of her hair gets stuck in her still stinging knees.

a sigh. "does it hurt much?" he asks tentatively, eyes hidden beneath an a little too long fringe, fingers drawing in the dirt.

"a little," she sniffles with a pained voice, eyes misty and cheeks rosy, biting her lips.

another sigh and then he gets up. "wait here," he orders and walks away.

she scrambles to her feet but ends up falling on her butt again, a small wail leaving her lips, but that doesn't stop him and she can only watch him fade between trees and bushes. big, fat tears tracing anew the dry track left visible on her face. she doesn't know how long he's gone, face hidden once again on stinging, scrapped knees, sobs making her small body tremble and the tears just adding salt to her wounds. maybe he really left her here to die?

something cold and wet pats carefully her raw knees and she forgets to hiss when she spies his companion in lost-hood through the curtain of chunks of tangled, wet hair. "i went to the little brook we passed before. we need to clean this so they don't get infected, we don't know how long they'll take to find us."

"your shirt," is the only thing she can say. no thanks or hisses or whines.

he shrugs as if it isn't anything, as if he, the only kid she knows that is always careful with his clothes, hasn't just teared off the sleeves from his dress shirt to take care of the skinned knees of someone who he supposedly finds annoying. "there," he says, once he finishes cleaning the cuts.

she blinks at her knees, all pink and raw and clean and then a wet pinkish-brown cloth lands on her face. "wipe your face too. you look ugly, brat."

her nose scrunches up indignant and her answer is to show him her tongue, but still looks for a white patch in the cloth to rub her face and get rid of the tear tracks. "thanks," she mumbles after a while and he shrugs it off once again.

"so..." she says after a while, the sound of birds twittering and leaves rustling making her crave for something more in the still ambiance between them. "have you decided on your name yet?"

"i have a name already," he cuts disinterested, it makes an annoyed frown to appear on her face.

"i know you have a name already. i meant the name you get to choose when you turn seven, have you decided on it yet?"

"mmm..." he hums and she watches him unblinkingly. "not yet"

"eh?!" she exclaims. "but you have to give one tonight or they'll choose for you."

"mmmm..." he hums again, not really caring about it. It’s just a name, after all.

a fixed stare that comes closer and closer until she makes him cross his eyes funnily, head thrown all the way back so it goes thunk softly when it connects with the bark of the tree trying to keep a minimum space between their faces. "zaphiro" she decides, nodding to herself, a silly smile.

"what?" he asks flabbergasted, a doubtful, if not cute (and she swears to never ever say that aloud), pout that screams are you crazy? that's a stupid name, i'd never use it. "why?"

"well, you know, like your eyes" she mutters, making herself small again, trying to prepare for the rejection his expression spells, but when he opens his mouth to deliver the verdict, he's interrupted by the sudden lap-full of sobbing baby girl that throws herself at the girl with the scraped knees.

she blinks dazed, finding herself with her back in the ground and a dull ache in the back of her head, a buzz in her ears that she soon realizes are supposed to be words. "esmeralda?" she asks and suddenly a torrent of tears come flooding.

"well," a voice calls attention to the almost teenager that appears accompanied by another girl of seemingly ten years old, that busies herself trying to pry the sobbing little girls from each other to take a look at the just found girl's wounds, while a couple of adults report finding the lost children by radio. "glad to know you listen to precautionary measure when getting lost in the woods, squirt." he mocks the little boy, relieved smile turning into a smirk. "though it'd save us time and worry if you just listened when the adults say not to separate from the group and go explore on your own."

"shut up." the just found boy retorts to his older brother, sighing long-suffering and crossing his arms in a put-out manner, spying his baby sister of three years olds cuddling with the brat and not liking how the brat hogs all the attention from baby esmeralda. "not my fault."

"blaming girls is a no-no," the teenager points out, index finger poking his little bro's nose. it makes the boy scrunch it up cutely, and swap at his hand, which is why the teenager always does it, head thrown back in a laugh. "you're cute!"

"am not!" he shrieks, cheeks pink in embarrassment when the adults stare. "let's go back, i'm hungry" he mutters sullenly, following the grown ups when they begin walking.


"brother chose his name!" little esmeralda shrieks, bouncing cutely in the balls of her feet. toothy smile proud and eyes shinning. "he told me."

"really?" the bored girl mums in answer. after the initial  joviality of being found, she got scolded by esmeralda's mother. as punishment, she was to stay seated and alone at the talent demonstration, banned from participating in the event, first row so everyone could keep an eye on her. esmeralda is the first one that has spoken to her, but she just waits for some grown up to come and whisk her away, so it's no fun. she is surprised, though, when little esmeralda attempts to crawl up the chair beside hers.

"what are you doing? your mother will be mad at you if she sees you talking to me"

"is 'k" esmeralda grunts and huffs, finally able to kneel in the chair. "that way, we can stay grounded together!" she smiles accomplished, green eyes twinkling. it makes her heart go doki-doki from happiness. esmeralda looks left, then right and then cups her little porcelain hands on the ear of the older girl to whisper: "zaphiro"

and something flutters in her stomach, a smile blossoms on her face, mirroring esmeralda's. "pretty, no?" and she nods.

"brother's next" esmeralda sits properly, like her mother has teach her, and claps enthusiastically.

piano notes let themselves be heard. she doesn't know anything about music, but the melody is pretty, albeit the playing is a little clumsy, small fingers still not totally trained. she closes her eyes, humming under her breath the piece she knows at heart by know and remember afternoons spent outside the music room with esmeralda listening to endless hours of practice. soon, the melody ends and applause  resound in the open clearing where parents have come to watch their kids. she suddenly misses her parents very much.

"for you" esmeralda smiles at her friend, who blinks owlishly back. "he said: tell the brat is for her" and a pout form on her pouty lips, because she doesn't like it when her brother calls her best friend a brat. and the brat finds herself running behind the scenes without caring if she gets scolded again, esmeralda shouting for her. just her luck she gets tangled with the red curtain though.

she huffs annoyed, but stills when hearing the voice of esmeralda's oldest brother.

"so, everything ready squirt?" it asks, and for the mocking tone and the answering annoyed huff, she knows he is there too. she squirms a little more and finds the opening of the curtain so she can spy the two of them. zaphiro is glaring up at his brother, hair in disarray, most probably thanks to the teenager, who only smirks pleased, hands on hips.

"mother is waiting in the car for you." and he suddenly sobers up, expression turning grave. "are you sure you really want to go away? i don't think esmeralda'll like it"

zaphiro only nods in answer and the teenager throws his hands in the air, suddenly exasperated. "ok. well, then. let's go"

she watches their backs disappear in the shadows behind the scenes and tears spill from her eyes, not understanding why or how and she lets herself  fall on her hunches to cry, sobs unheard thanks to the pitiful attempts at talent kids display to please their parents. that is how little esmeralda finds her minutes after, tears spilling in answer to her broken-heart's ones.

"why are you crying? was brother mean to you? i'll bite him for you! but don't cry"

"he's leaving" she sobs and esmeralda's tears fall harder while her voice grows in volume and pitch not understanding.

"no, he isn't!" esmeralda cries, tugging at her to stand up so they can go and ask where her bother is. "he isn't, you're wrong, he won't leave, he promised!"

"ey, what's all this about?" the teenager reappears and esmeralda launches her small bullet body to his knees, almost knocking him down.

"she's lying!" esmeralda accuses, glaring up at him tearfully. "she says zaphiro is leaving, but she's lying! she's lying, lying! she's a liar!"

"oh, sweetheart" he kneels down as to rock her to calm his baby sister and looks at the other sobbing girl, reaching out for her too. "come here" he soothes and the six year old goes willingly.

"why is he leaving" she asks broken-hearted. "where is he going?" the hug gets a little tighter as the teenager tries to soothe them both, their cries attracting people. "why did he hate me?"

at six, i was a cry baby. i can say that now. but i still blame you for it.

there's not much i can say about our memories. i think, though, this was the first time you left me to fend by myself. you'd think i could have learned from it what to expect. there were times i understood your reasons to be away, and there were times i couldn't even fathom an explanation for them.

i've been trying to prepare for this post since december began. i can't say i'm doing a great job for it.

i could say i've moved on, but i would be lying. i still find myself writing to you as if you were to answer. i go out and keep waiting to meet you in the streets, keep looking at my reflection on glass surfaces to try and find you stalking me, waiting for the less expected moment to pass your arms over my shoulders and whisper in my ear "found ya".

ne, master, it's ok isn't it? to not forget you yet.

happy birthday, zaphiro. i love you.

kriszeth: (christmas on my own)
but i still feel all screwed up from the hospital. and i wasn't the one being operated on, but i had to sleep on a car for three days without taking a bath or changing my clothes. at least i had my pillows with me.

i hate hospitals. well, i've never been admitted into one, but i don't see much point into getting treatment for chronic illnesses. when i think like this, "ah~ i'm probably a horrible person, aren't i?" but being the one taking care of patients is as worse or maybe a little more than being ill. an illness can break or make a person, but those around him, how should they act?

if my father wants so much to live, why have i never found the point of it? living really is tiring.

am i a bad person?

listening to mother talk of all the things father did when they were younger, i fell, "ah~ certainly, if he wasn't my father i would hate him. for sure"

i don't want to ever get married, or a boyfriend. most of the time, i don't really want friends either, but then there are those bouts of loneliness i have to bear with. "it was my own decision" i think at those times "i shouldn't begrudge them then" and i get drunk on internet.

"would i ever be free? i don't want to have to take care of some else for the rest of my life" i sya, but sometimes, don't i wish to be with someone too? i'm a hypocrite

will time really erase all this feeling. do i want it to? can i ever be happy? would i ever get away from all these? will i regret levaing mom alone?
kriszeth: (christmas on my own)
there's something to say about birthdays

they tend to be such a lonely affair

the past

there were once two girls. they were twins and were beautiful.
they loved each other so very, very much. so much that i thought i could never fit with them
they had everything they would ever need in each other and the world was theirs to charm.

i'm sure they've accomplished already, wherever they are

somehow, though, we became inseparable. or at least i thought it to be so. once.
now i wonder if you remember i exist anymore.

i wonder if the next time i open my eyes, there'll be someone else apart from myself staring back at me

the present

to crystal:

for always having been my surge of strength, for always picking me up as i fell, for not caring about what people would say when you hugged me and i hugged you back, for being there for me, for understanding me, for a lot of things i have no head to think about right now... thank you.

you know, i think i forewent friendship by love when i had both, thinking the only thing i'd ever need to keep going was to be by his side. having neither love nor friendship now has made me realize that the reason why i could treasure love was because you were there too.

more than my friend or my sister or my heart, you are the treasure i wish i could have once again.

wherever you are, please guide me along to find it

to jen, jenny, jennipher:

for always listening, for always indulging me when not even nee-san did it, for scolding me, for letting me cry, for letting me fall and wallow in misery when i needed it, for letting me hug you and for hugging me (and i must say that your hugs are the bestest of the best there are in the whole universe) and crying with me, for saying i was interesting and thinking of me as your precious little girl... i love you.

i'm aware i never said it enough, i was a brat. still am. i remember your smile, your laugh, your elegance, your tears, your inner strenght, your scarinnes, your love for you husband and son, your faith and your fortitude.

i can't say enough i love you's to make up for all the times i never did it before, though i know you knew.

i hope we fin each other again. i promise the first thing i'll say it's how much i love you.
here's a minute sign of it ♥

i hope wherever you are, it may reach you

today it's your birthday. even though we haven't known each other all our lives, i can't image how it'll be to live without you in my heart.
happy 26

the future
in all is bleakness

i have a dream, of the three of us, dancing and laughing and skipping along.
i have a wish of waking up with you on each side, like before


because, i don't want to walk alone anymore

please, come back to me

sorry for the lack of lj-cut. i fucked up somewhere and now i can't do it, ugh.
none of the pic are mine. i googled them, so if anyone'd like to be credited, please tell me
kriszeth: (Default)
i've been wondering, lately, why is it that everytime a date i want to celebrate ends with me in tears. 

i was going to post this at 12, but i'm too sleepy and tired and don't know if i'll last until then.

i guess, what i wanted to say was happy birthday, kamenashi kazuya. you are 23 now in your time zone and in some minutes we'll share half a day of your birth date. this is the third time i wish happy birthday to someone i'll never meet, but i just want to take a page out from all the fangirls out there and shout out :


(i really need to learn how to put sparkles to the next)

as i type, i'm crying, which is what i have been doing at intervals since six in the evening. stupid, i know. sometimes i wonder myself since when did i become so weak. ah~ i thought i was stronger, but with  the pass of time i've become weaker and weaker... and then, i see you, working so hard and can only admire from far away. not only about physical distance but also in another level, though i'm not sure which would it be.

nah, kazuya, how can you still smile? real or fake, being able to smile, sometimes i wonder if i can keep on doing it. i have no control left, not even over my own life.  i'm so tired.


somehow, this entry turned out being about me and not about you. i'm sorry.

seventeen minutes to go till midnight, ah, i'll be the middle of the day in japan by that time, ne? i hope your day keeps getting better and that you'll get lots of presents...

aaaah! i shouldn't have been watching i litre of tears in my emotional state! i suck at giving congratulation even when that person  it's not there to receive them. i want nee-san to come and save me. and i want some ryo-erika fic. yeah, totally random.

i thought there'll be more fics of kame. somehow, there weren't much. or as much as i hoped. i know i'm being unfair, since it's been months of my last update. m(_ _)m

uh, i think i just screwed the ep06 file of 1LoT. mooouu~ yes, i'm making time till midnight. i kind of suck at it, too. so, even when time zones overlap, i'll bee sleeping. or maybe i'm getting it wrong and in japan the it's already the 24th's halfday ? ah, i've forgotten everything about my geography class in junior high.

it's 12:00 already! so i'll celebrate your birthday sleeping while you keep up the idol life. seriously though, happy 23, kame. thank you for existing

kriszeth: (Default)

it was going to be the longer thing i've ever posted about real life, like 2, 000 words, but my pc keeps screwing over with me, so now my rant is lost and i'm quite weary to write everything again. so long story short, i feel lost and don't know what to do with my life.
which is the same thing i've been saying since i began writing here, only that one hour ago i actually had explained why i felt lost and insecure.
so, in typical me-ness i made this quiz and got this:

my complete personal profile and my most daunting fears in less than five minutes )

also, new meme!
Comment and I'll give you a letter, then make a list in your journal of all your favorite things that start with that letter. Then post this in your journal and give other people letters!

[ profile] chokollet gave the letter "R", so let's try, ne.

Ryo, as in Nishikado from NEWS (first thing on my mind. surprise, surprise)
Read; Radio; Rooftops; Rails; Rain, Rainbow, Raindrops and just everything that has to see with rain, period; Rambles, Random; Raspberries, Receive, Reclusion (a little), Rediscovering, Reflection, Relax, Rivers, Rice, Rollerskates, Rustic things (especially of the wooden kind)
kriszeth: (Default)
So, I tend to come back to this story quite a lot. Once I began reading it, I can't stop myself.
So, I'm re-posting this again in my quest at journal edition
Last time though I didn't say anything about this piece. The en of  "The meaning of a smile" with double angst to top it.
To Black Star, may you all find the happiness you gave me with your presence.

Nameless )


kriszeth: (Default)
so, today. today was one of those days when i wish i never got up. at all.
in religion class, we were talking about love. about how in a relashionship ypu always have to sacrifice something. things you like and time spent in other things non related with your boyfriend. i told the teacher it was not like that.
that the reason why a relashionship can work out it's not because the two pass all their time together, but because the two people have qualities on their own that can support the bond between them.
also, that there were two types of relashionships. one triangular and one square like.
that the triangular one was based on thoughts of that person (that i described as obsession), one i don't remember the name of and passion (that reminded me a little too much of lust in the way this shit described it). as i usually think outloud, i said: i've never felt like that. 
to wich i was told that i was never really in love to begin with and i got kind of mad, because, who are they to tell me i've never fallen in love?!
i think lifetime relashionship shows just how deep in love i still am was with Master, so i told them about it (not a lot, though, there is too much history to ever finish it) 
and then i told them he died. i thought i was over it, ne. because, it happened a year ago and we hadn't really seen each other in the last couples years and....
i was shaking. i had to clasp my hands to stop the shaking and my laughs only left me feeling empty and oh, god, i thought i was gonna end up crying.
i just. i wanted to writte about this, i suppose. because i have nothing else to say for now.
it's just. it surprised me, ne.
the shaking, it was so raw...
kriszeth: (Default)

I hate it when he sits in front of me.

Hate it.

Just hate it.

Because I remember you and. You. Are. Not. HERE! But I still am and I still miss you. I still love you and dream about you and-and-and…

Every time I see his back I remember you.


I hate it that he wears formal shirts…

When I close my eyes, I see that formal black formal shirt you used to wear and I almost can feel the silk beneath my fingers as I hold onto you and I tremble with –out you- the need of you.

With this longing of pressing my forehead between your shoulder blades once again, your breathing evening out as your scent filled my senses with the fragrance of you and my throat aches with the whisper of your name…



I hate it when he sits in front of me, wearing formal shirts because they remind me I can't hold onto them –onto you…- anymore.

It's almost vivid, the way I could feel your words more than I could hear them, the soft undertone of your voice asking "What's the matter?" and, most of all, that it mattered to you.

The way you tilted your head back to hear me, giving me all your attention; the book slipping from your fingers and ending up being forgotten.

How you never tried to see my face all those times, because you just knew I was breaking.


I'm still breaking, you know. It's just that there's nobody here to hold onto; there's no one here to not-see me falling apart…

There's no one here that can be you for me.

There's no you…

… and I wonder if, in here, there's still a me.


So, wherever you are, God bless you.

I still love you and I always will…


I just hate it, hate it when he sits in front of me wearing formal shirts…

… because I still remember you.



Oct. 6th, 2006 02:48 pm
kriszeth: (Default)
I feel... well I don't know, I've been finsishing more stories tna in the last couple years, so...
Well, this is the edited "The meaning of a smile", hope you enjoy it...
If you read it ofcourse.

The meaning of a smile

His name )

Her name )
kriszeth: (Default)
I read an entry about the FMA movie, The conqueror of Shamballa and I think I'm going to cry.
It was a pretty one even if it didn't touch the Winry/Ed relationship that I so adore.
Also, you know, it got to me until yesterday that Master hasn't told me anything about my performance in school, wich I may add it's pathetic, and that some how hurts, because when he doesn't say anything it means he's dissapointed in me, and...
Do I still have to wonder why I relate myself with words such as shame and doubt?
There's something to say about it, isn't it?
But in reality, it's not as if he's here to tell me or not tell me anything.
I wanted...
I don't know.
I just don't know.
It's not as if I don't know that he has reasons not to be with me, he must have pretty good reasons...
At least I hope so and I think I'm going crazy and FUCKING God, please somebody help me......................................................

This is like throwing ashes to the wind, you know.
Nobody notices, nobody wonders, nobody cares.
And this is why I did this in first place.
But somerimes I wish somebody could answer.
I've faded away for so long, drifting to nowhere....

I need you, whomever you may be.
I wonder if someday we'll meet each other.
I just can hope, can't I?
But it's somehow so difficult, Master.
I wish you were here, and that is the main problem.
I can only wish...

Today it's not raining.


kriszeth: (Default)

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