Never Stop

Never stop running, just keep on going. Don’t run away, though: there’s nothing that can defeat us, so why run from a challenge? No, just run for the joy it brings. The wind in your face sweeps past and heads to faraway lands, taking with it the scent of sweat and happiness. Because happiness can be sustained beyond the activity producing it. The city waves goodbye as you break out, and the trees sway gently, turning sunshine into oxygen, which you don’t need any more. Stop, and arch your back. Yell out to the world that you were born on a ship surrounded by apples; which you weren't, but who cares? You’re free now! Run to the nearest cliff, and jump off. Once you hit the water, don’t stop. Swim for all your life, never stop! Just keep going, marveling in your magnificent body that won’t ever stop. You can go forever! Ever, ever, ever! The walls of the canyon cheerfully yell back at you. Keep going, past golden palaces and dirty factories, past all of humanity. This world isn’t big enough! Finally, as you near the end of an African desert, you jump! You jump for joy, and decide that the air is much better than the ground, so you stay there. You go higher, climbing up through clouds. Even though the sun is shining, the higher up you go, the darker it gets. The sun! That is the answer! You fly to the sun, not needing wings or rockets or hang gliders. You laugh as the sun touches you: it’s so warm and bright! You head in deeper, feeling that this is it. Finally, you reach the center of the sun, the center of the universe. This is it. This is home. 

The Angels

The clear-cut leaves form a low roof for my private wanderings, sheltering me from both the relentless sun and the harsh reality that I try to avoid. There really was no reason for me to come here, but it draws me unto itself. Compulsion is strong, and my curious nature makes tactical retreat impossible, so I grimace and doggedly continue on my way. The leaves decide to let me have some privacy, so they stay behind as I walk onto a clean, well-kept lawn with a lake in the middle. It looks so peaceful, but this is where it happened, so long ago. I sink to my knees and cover my face with my hands, seeing it as it was. Two beautiful angels, wings torn, graceful movements turned to awkward dances of agony. The lake’s shores were covered in angel blood, angel tears. The horrible demon-ridden warrior standing over them, the great sword dripping liquid rubies onto the grass, the sand. I lift my head from my hands, defiance and pride overcoming the painful memory. At that point in time, I had come in to view. I was the Guardian, defender of the tortured souls. The battle had been long, too long, but I had defeated him in the end. Time, though, I had used lavishly, when there was none to be had. The angels had died during the battle. They now rested peacefully, side by side, on the far end of the lake, their graves decorated with a blank stone, for as hard as I looked, I could not find any mention of two angels of their description. I sigh, and stand; this is no place for me. I turn…and fall out of my desk, all eyes now on me. I stare back, not believing that it had merely been a classroom dream. There is a white feather on my desk. 

Imaginative Techicalities

Hello once again! I must call on all dreamers who have released their collective imaginative forces upon an unsuspecting Blogger website! 
I need...Help! Technical help! 
Let me explain. 
I am new to blogging. Obviously. And I don't know how to organize my posts in a way other than chronologically (by time). 
If you know the answer, please comment! And if your answer is the one I need, I will write a short abstract writing on a topic of your choosing, if you so desire! 
Thank you again, all six of you reading this so soon. I knew I could call on you. 

Daughter of the Stars

Break me away from the world I care about, take me far away. Change my silver wings to gold, lift me free of all my friends. All my ties, all my fetters, lift them like the morning mist. Take me to the afternoon, with ripe grain rustling above dusty red canyons. Fly me to the evening, with pools of soft light that throw reflections on the dark room and white walls. Bring me a cup of the night, a cup full of silver stars, which I shall drink of and forget who I am, who I was, and who I will be; I will forget duty, forget promises, forget all except that I am happy, and at peace. The next day, I will forget you instead, but starshine will still run in my veins, still quicken my mind, still gleam in my eyes. I will be, and endure. I will be a star, living brightly among the darkness of ignorant humans. I will be more than anyone could be. I will be full and over-flowing: Daughter of the Stars. 

Abstract

There is a restless feeling in the air and I can’t settle down. The couches embrace me, but after a while, I begin to feel stuffy. I take of my shoes but that doesn’t stop me from impatiently pacing the house. The pool is calling me, but if I swim I’ll be all alone and I’m just getting used to society. I want to eat but I’m not hungry…is there a difference? It’s too hot to wear jackets, but she does, anyway. The dog is happy as long as you throw his toy: I wish I were that way. I want to make music but I’m out of practice: my violin is crying. How do teachers teach? It’s such a demanding and draining job. The floor looks at me from the corners of it’s eyes: I squirm above it’s merciless gaze. The library needs more books. Quiet talking is everywhere: whispers seem to expand and fill the air. If I look at nothing, so many things pop out at me. If I am, what am I not? If I am, how can I be? How does silence scream so loudly I can hardly bear not to think? Why does white feel so sterile and cold, while black is so warm and comforting? Which is the right choice? 

Valiant Hearts

A quick shimmer of iridescent red, green, and yellow darts by: a barely visible flash of color. A loud, angry noise comes next: just like an angry bee at hyperspeed. A valiant thrust of a needle-thin rapier, and it visualizes in front of your eyes. A hummingbird. Hovering, its wings matching its heartbeat, it stares fearlessly back at you. You sit as if hypnotized, until another hummer comes to steal the sweet nectar from the hummingbird feeder. Instantly the chase is on, over the elderberry tree, diving close to the grass, skimming over the pool like figure skaters. After a breathtaking chase, they separate, and one comes back to continue his investigation of the large, strange creature in his undisputed domain. Perching delicately on a branch as thin as a bank-manager’s good intentions, he watches you, occasionally cocking his head with a sharp, questioning sound. There is a red fire at his throat, a green forest on his back, and a white flower as his waistcoat. His slim tongue pokes out once, like a delicate pink caterpillar. As you raise your camera to capture this exquisite creature, though, a sharp buzz and a flash of green are all that tells you: he has graced your presence long enough. A lazy fall of emerald, however, catches your attention. You reach out your hand to catch the delicate feather that descends in deliberate spirals. It nestles readily in your hand, and as you bend over to observe this leftover jewel of an otherworldly creature, you not only notice the exquisite grace of the feather, but a close up of your hand, the lines making a road map that no one will ever read. 

Intro to Don't Keep It Real

Hello. My name is Ivey Vine and I don't like the real world. I love dragons, though, and all the mythical creatures I can read about. As well as disliking the real world, I dislike improper spelling and grammar. 
I started this blog because I have many, many more worlds I have created in order to escape the terrible menace of the real world. And I also want to share them all. Please, if you have worlds of your own, don't keep them for yourself. Write a book. Make a blog. Write an online comic, if drawing is your thing. 
Because keeping several worlds in your head is bound to cause internal damage.