Mime: Now then, who would like to have the honor to speak first on this subject.

Marianaleska: I have but a single question sir, if I may proffer it to those of your horrifying virginity.

Mime: Ask away, madame. I can answer as many a questions as there are flies in the night sky. One two three away go along I say how dearly those know me.

Marianaleska: Yes, well, how do you expect any of us to confess to being the killer?

Mime: Hah, it is very simple really, whoever is responsible for commanding this curse may either be one with that of a saint’s heart, or he or she may be a dame in the leaflets of a tree borne in a swimming pool of a winter’s festival. If this person is merciful, which, seeing that he or she has cast such a horrendous spell, it is very unlikely, then he or she may confess to this act and die alone. However, the more likely outcome will be that he or she will allow you all to die together.

Marianaleska: But-

Edgar: That’s horrible… I refuse to hear it I…

Santamuel places his hand on Edgar’s across the table.

Edgar: Okay… I’ll figure this out! And not only will I do that, but I will make whoever is  responsible for this garish nightmare confess.

Katarina: Edgar-

Josephonine: I could whisper to the spirits

Everyone becomes silent and looks at Josephonine, as she has not spoken for a while.

Santamuel: Yes my mistress?

Josephine: There’s a piano playing. Like a staircase into the basement of my heart. You keep running for safety but the keys are being hit harder and harder, as God’s fingers move faster and faster down the keyboard. He’s catching up with you. You keep running but time catches up with you. His thumb blocks the path to freedom. You see no light. Only darkness and sodomy.

Marianaleska: That fool it is so ridiculously forlorn of her to say such a thing.

Katarina: Mother… listen to what she says. Her words make sense. Maybe this curse holds the key.

Mime: Are you sure of that mistress?

Katarina: Well why shouldn’t I be?

Edgar: I don’t see how this all connects…

The ballerina pulls out a recorder which she begins to quietly play.

Santamuel: I believe what the mime is trying to say is that what this girl says is false

Marianaleska: Well obviously that’s what he’s trying to say you reckless brute-

Edgar: But there’s more…

Katarina: When someone is cursed, they know exactly whom she is being controlled by, however, the person casting this curse would be incredibly prudent and ensure that the person being cursed does not say his or her name so that they cannot be tracked. But… depending on the strength of the person performing the curse and how much experience they have with such curses, they may allow certain slip ups to take place where the person being cursed can give away information.

Edgar: So you think that this is what is happening? Josephonine is trying to hint at who she is being cursed by?

Katarina: That’s what I thought… up until the Mime told me that I may be incorrect in my accusation.

They all sit motionless for a time as the ballerina continues to play her recorder.

Edgar: Could it be possible that the one cursing Josephonine is making her give us these hints in order to frame another.

Katarina: Oh no that could be quite possible!

Mime: Ah enough talking for now, how about we enjoy a quick meal and continue afterwards?

Katarina: It does not make sense to take a rest in this game, the players need as much time as they can get. Their lives are up for stake!

Mime: Hush now darling.

Music begins to play as Santamuel stands up and paints in blood all over the faces of the actors, yet they do not notice him. Josephonine is crying.

Marianaleska: It was me. I am responsible for the curse.

No one hears her.

Marianaleska: Can you not see? My eyes are crescent moons of yours for the taking! Hurt me! Fasten me! It was me!

Edgar: SHE’S LYING

The ballerina stabs Katarina who falls down dead.

Marianaleska: IT WAS ME. I SWEAR IT,

A tree wobbles on stage, an ax stuck in it. When it reaches center stage, the ballerina pulls the ax from the trunk and proceeds to kill everyone on stage except for Marianaleska and Josephonine.

Josephonine: I cry tears for you

Marianaleska: It’s all I could do. It’s all I’ll ever do.

Ballerina: FATHER, MOTHER, NO!

Everyone comes back to life and sits upright in their chairs as if nothing happened. The ballerina is down center stage, curled up into a ball crying.

End of Scene iii

7:07 pm  •  27 March 2012  •  5 notes

I would personify Jesus

And we would dance in majesty

The flowers would smile on our open hearts

We were so free

And so oblique

How can one word say so much?

Two sentences.

My eyes no longer cry but bleed.

Thank you.

Thank you.

9:32 pm  •  26 March 2012  •  1 note

Anonymous asked: I adore your writing.

sing me a secret. J’adore tu!~

7:46 pm  •  12 February 2012  •  1 note

Anonymous asked: Do you consider yourself a true artist? Or are you just trying to be flattering you insolent fuck.

sweeety you are such a beautiful mockingbird 

7:46 pm  •  12 February 2012

handstouchheyesmeet asked: You're an AMAZING poet omg!!

Oh heyy thanks!

<3

I love my fans and they love me 

7:46 pm  •  12 February 2012

The most recent scene of my show was deleted before I was able to publish it. This is why towards the end of the chapter seems to be more rushed. To all my fans: I am sorry that I was not able to keep up the beautiful and poetic imagery that I have been using thus far.

peace and love

(I’m a hippie now)

8:20 pm  •  31 January 2012  •  1 note

The lights on stage are out while a quick scene change occurs with horrifying screaming in the background to hide the sounds of furniture moving. The lights flicker on with Katarina on the floor, the hem of her dress ripped to shreds and one of her breasts exposed. Josephonine is standing on the table that is now blocking the exit on stage right, her body is being held in the air by the beautiful ballerina. Edgar’s chest is revealed with blood dripping down it. His hair is a glorious mess of chandelier-like poetry. Everyone is frozen until Marianaleska enters from stage left.

Marianaleska: Hah! I knew this was written with trouble in the holes of the O’s and e’s. Josephonine, here, now.

Josephonine: I HAVE SEEN THE LIGHT AND IT IS MINE. YOU CAN NO LONGER JUSTIFY YOUR IGNORANCE YOU UNINTELLIGENT, GAPING LABIA MINORA!

Katarina: Oh goodness I never meant for this to happen!

Marianaleska strides over to Katarina.

Marianaleska: YOU are responsible for this Katarina?

Katarina: It was hardly and algebraic function written as a quotient without an x intercept! I never meant to hurt Josephonine!

Marianaleska: HAH! You insolent dyke, Katarina.

Marianaleska slaps Katarina

Marianaleska: Oh if only I knew how worthless you were before I took you in. And I thought that no one could be more worthless than Josephonine… Well… All is in time due to us. Santamuel!

Enter Santamuel

Santamuel: Yes madame?

Marianaleska: Call in the seven devils… There shall be a crucifixion tonight.

Marianaleska laughs and struts off stage, Santamuel behind her. The ballerina drops Josephonine and runs to the dresser on the other side of the stage, pulls out a large mirror, then jumps out the window (center stage).

Katarina: But! No… NO! I do not understand. It has only been snowing but for a fortnight now… I was not responsible for this witchcraft… Not this time at least.

Edgar: It does not matter whether you did or did not! You killed the Aduella family, and so it is simple for Marianaleska to blame this curse set on Josephonine on you as well!

Josephonine: NIPPLES ACROSS THE LIGIMENTS

Edgar: Your mother wants you dead, Katarina, she has for some time now… because of you crazy witchcraft that has gone against her Christian ways.

Katarina: Oh Father Satan! Princes of fayth and rebirth! Please do not let my mother kill anyone today! I am but innocent!

Santamuel and Marianaleska return.

Marianaleska: The devils will be here in a few moments with the crucifixes… Please wait for that time to come calmly.

The ballerina returns through the window and sits atop the table

Santamuel: Madame, I see a man in the distance coming this way!

A mime with a unicorn horn thrust into his forehead jumps through the window and onto the table. The actors stare at him as he smiles a terrible smile, and the lights go out. Screams go off. When the lights go on, the stage is empty except for a table. The actors onstage thus far are sitting at different seats around the table, the mime at the head of it. He is laughing a disturbing laugh.

Mime: Ah, my friends, please join me in our ceremony of harmonious pleasure. Katarina, please come hither and sit on my lap.

Katarina reluctantly walks to the mime and sits on his lap.

Mime: Now, I have a bit of a game for us to play today.

A small yelp is heard from the ballerina.

Mime: As you may or may not know, Katarina is not in charge for the cursing of the girl. No, but one of you here is. And as part of my job as Satan’s most loyal guard, I must take the life of the person who did do it.

Screams and yelling are heard across the table as the actors argue

Mime: Now now! Settle down! So, I do not know who cursed Josephonine. I only know that Katarina is not responsible for it. So, in order for any of you to leave here today, the person who did do it must confess themselves and let me take them. I will only listen to their word alone.

Edgar: But that’s ridiculous! We could just stand up and leave right now!

Mime: HAH HAH! Do you not notice the chains around your legs? All of you are stuck here until someone confesses. And if no one confesses by the end of the night, you will all die.

As the mime says ‘die’ the actors all stare at him and become frozen. The lights turn to white, then blue, then yellow, then finally a black out.

End of scene ii

7:57 pm  •  31 January 2012  •  2 notes

The theatre is black, with red silk curling over the edges of the stage, and the dimmest of lights to show this slight detail.

Katarina: Sometimes, when you look into the night sky, you see a world, filled with screams and qualms of majesty. Two days.

The stage lights up gently, and it becomes apparent to the audience that they are about to witness a very dark and daunting play, one that could change their views on life forever. A long table is shown with a large, mystical window behind it, letting in the slightest ray of moonlight onto the center of the very long table which in fact stretches from upstage to downstage. Josephonine is sitting at the table anxiously.

Enter Katarina

Josephonie: Katarina—

Katarina: Sister Josephonine… I’m sorry I—

Josephonine: And what is that you’re carrying miss?

Josephonine strides across the stage and rips a rabbit mask out of Katarina’s hands.

Josephonie: So. This is what you have been up to. Worshiping spirits again? Hm… I really do wonder why Marianaleska ever thought it would be appropriate to allow such a desolate fiend as you into her home. Just remember what I told you last night Katarina. Your life is as nimble and insolent as a pillow case in love.

Katarina: It won’t happen again ma’am…

Katarina begins to exit but stops after hearing a knock at the door.

Josephonine: Oh get the door you filthy cunt!

Katarina exits then returns a moment later with a tall man in an exquisite suit and with beautifully cherished blonde hair.

Josephonine: Agh, Edgar, you are early I see.

Edgar: Katarina Gene told me that it would be appropriate to do so. Unless of course you would rather me wait outside in the rain? In the case of that, I would gladly do that, awaiting the words of Satan and all the love that he would have to offer.

Josephonine: Oh Edgar, it’s quite alright. Just take a seat!

Edgar sits and Josephonine begins to walk offstage

Josephonine: Katarina, you wait here with Edgar while I go upstairs and change. Please do not allow him to enter the kitchen.

Josephonine exits. Katarina runs to Edgar and clasps his hands.

Katarina: Edgar, I do not ask much of you! I request that you release me from this hard and lonely threshold. Please! Puncture my heart! Cut off my limbs! Do anything you think appropriate, just please let me go.

Edgar smirks at Katarina but is interrupted by a woman dressed in a completely white dress, and with a white lion’s mane sprawled atop her head. She is very graceful with every move that she makes, and she dances like a ballerina across the stage. The two stare until she exits on the opposite side of the stage.

Edgar: Katarina Gene, you know that Josephonine and your mother would not be happy if I were to do that… and if she were to… well, it would quite obviously juxtapose my embodiment of the nightingale’s vigilant clitoris.

Katarina begins to speak, but stops because a beautifully miraculous scream is heard from offstage. The two ignore it and continue conversation.

Katarina: Well. Maybe it’d be appropriate then if I… stripped myself of these worries.

Katarina slips one of the straps of her dress obviously as she says “stripped.” 

Edgar: Oh stop it. You know exactly what you’re getting yourself into! This is no way to attract me nor ameliorate the situation in any way at all! The way you grope at me like a lugubrious and licentious animal only repels me more than your very nature.

Katarina: And what do you mean by THAT my kind sir??

The two are yelling at each other angrily and start to become very agitated.

Edgar: You know that I am a lover. But not a lover of you, nor of your damned sister Josephonine, nor of a single human being that shares genitalia similar to those of yourself. You know that.

Katarina: YES I do Edgar. I am aware. And because of that, you should be quite aware that you shall do my bidding if you want to avoid any sort of conflict with the law.

Edgar: Ah, but Katarina, that is where you are incorrect! If you ever do anything even reminiscent of revealing the fact that I love cock, the town will know YOUR secret.

Katarina: And what secret is that exactly my fair man?

Katarina’s voice is beginning to shake.

Edgar: Your worshiping of spirits may pass off as a slight disability to your family members, but even they do not know the true nature of the ceremonies that you conduct. If you say one thing of me to anyone, the ministry will know that Katarina Gene Spunken is the one responsible for the murder of Janeth and Robeltho Addeula.

Katarina: How do you.

Edgar: Do not speak, Katarina.

Josephonine enters completely naked, wearing nothing but a tea kettle tied to a chain around her neck. 

Josephonine: I am ready.

End of Act I Scene i.

4:49 pm  •  24 January 2012  •  3 notes

A Novel by Kassandra

Chapter Four: Lie Your Eyes Out

I almost always knew that if a clitoris could whisper, then demons would sooner flock out of merrier days than if an Egyptian nymph were to scratch her lower back with an oboe.

I used to love music.

When I was a girl, my mother and I would have tea parties in the basement where my father couldn’t find us. We would hum tunes and sing melodies as we would grind the fluorescent tea cups against the potent table. We would take out brushes with black and white ink, and we’d paint the music on the walls and on the tea cups. A single note could tickle my awareness. But now, music is distraught. It’s still beautiful… But its words make me cringe at the violent and impudent nerves of a father’s son, and an uncle’s husband. My mother loved poetry.

Laying in that bed next to the incredibly large breasted Asian woman and the overly flamboyant and dramatic long legged man made me think. Where did I go wrong? The answers must have been somewhere in my past.

“So Ken,” the Asian woman spoke up with a grin on her face. Her strands of hair were floating around in the air, writing letters to each other in the sky. “We’ll agree to help you as long as you conform and join us. We’ll do what you came here for.” My face was the color of strawberry fields… forever.

“I would agree to that pretense, for a swallow only walks its streets down the back of a nostril. But I do not know of the ways of witchcraft…” my anxiety was becoming obvious in my suddenly over jubilant and sexually-cross face.

“Do not worry your sweet heart!” the most likely gay man whose name was Maestro called out even though he was only a few feet away from me.

“All of that will be taken care for you,” the Asian woman said with a tight grin while smothering cigarettes into her hair. Her ears were the size of pirates.

“But—”

“Shut the fuck up.” She could sense that I was tense, so she was sweet and told me to calm down in the nicest possible way. “My name is Arugula by the way!” she said with a tight smile, which she seemed to do quite a lot. I sensed some sort of bipolar vibes emitting from her, but I couldn’t place exactly why.

“Arugula… and you’re Maestro, correct?” I said in a voice that could make a hummingbird regurgitate.

“Quite!” The homosexual male was already beginning to piss me off because of his unnecessary comments and habit of dancing in Spanish sonnets.

“Now get up you filthy piece of shit,” Arugula said. What a sweetheart she was. Why couldn’t Maestro be more like her? I got up from the bed I was laying in and I looked around the area. We were in the dark and cloistered center of a forest. Cellos and basses were screaming like a giant overly unhappy cat crying like a southern racist old man.

Three people came out from the insides of a tree trunk in the fashion of a crying willow farm that once read poetry.

“Welcome Ken,” the three figures said in unison. One was an incredibly unattractive girl that resembled an upset donkey wearing a piano on it’s lips. The next person was another flamboyant male who was fairly attractive. Then finally, there was a black man who the other two didn’t seem to like very much by the way they glared at him.

“This is the whole group,” Arugula said. In total, there were five. They were all wearing incredibly thin, black cloths that I could easily see through. All of their body parts were exposed. Everything was in the open. This was a society of freedom. “This is Clity,” Arugula said, referring to the donkey-looking girl, “Mlarken,” she said as she pointed at the other flamboyant male, “and finally, Eric,” she said as she frowned and pointed at the black man. “Welcome to the Witchraft Society of Not Giving a Fuck.” As Arugula said those words, I felt so liberated. I was where I was supposed to be. I was already on the trail of accomplishing what I came to Maine for, and as soon as that was completed, I could return to my beloved Lend.

“You will be the sixth member tonight, Kennny!!” Maestro said with such disgustingly feminine poise.

I couldn’t wait. I was almost there. I was so close to being one of them. I would soon be in the Witchcraft Society of Not Giving a Fuck.

damn,

no more damns.

This was my story now.

I was ready to take it all back.

2:18 pm  •  25 September 2011  •  2 notes

A Novel by Kassandra

Chapter Three: They Never Ate Breakfast

Those foggy days in Maine were some of the least of my worries.

I was trudging down the streets of Portland, looking for what I came for. But the whole time I just worried. I worried on and on about what I was doing. Was I making a mistake? Was I sacrificing everything again? Was I really destroying my one chance of love? It was all over. I just wanted to hold her hand. But I kept on walking. Where was I even going?

“FUCK!” I crumpled onto the cement sidewalk. “FUCK IT ALL!” I took a blade out of my back pocket, crimson poetry spilling out of my sides. “IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED!?” I cursed the man that brought me into the world. I swung the shimmering knife into the air under the dank and depressing background of the Portland skies, and with a swift movement of velocity and utter ill fated terror, I thrust the knife into my stomach. 

damn

I was floating in a pool of colors. Cerulean and fuchsia both grappled onto me like a protecting soul in Ireland.

“Sweetest of moonlight, to ponder my own
The slightest of cryings won’t go untold”

Music. Lyrics. I was in this fantastic world. I could see so much. I knew everything! It was as if a message was telling me that there was no reason for me to stop there. My journey hadn’t even begun yet. I could hear violet and black whispering to me like a cold tree stump in the middle of August. Do re and fa were running around in circles, playing a game of tag with such a childlike innocence that a little girl could cry more than she had on the worst day. My feet were getting bigger. My hands were getting heavier. The voices got louder. Magenta was screaming, and celadon was bleeding music. It was so terrifying and yet… so terrific. It was an endless sea of beauty that I had to myself. No one could take it from me. I was at peace in a world of chaos and fortune. But colors’ voices started to fade away. The faces of music cried themselves into pools of melting willows. Everything decayed, and I almost fell over again. Calendars with names instead of dates written across them slashed at my back. Oak trees were throwing up the carcass of an unborn baby upon one another. I was so worried. I was so scared. I was so… lost.

It wasn’t the first time I woke up in a different world.

But last time, she was there to hold me. Where are you mother?

Damn.

“You’re up,” a half-naked Asian woman was standing over me, her hair the color of a blade, her face as pale as a wet sheet of paper. “She’s up, Maestro!” I looked around the room. I was in a ginormous, white chamber, with walls so high, that I couldn’t find where they connected with the ceiling. The single bed in that room was the one that I had been laying on, and there was nothing else in the room other than a door on the other side, the Asian woman, and an incredibly attractive male who was leaning against the paved walls. His hair was the color of moaning whales, and his eyes gave the look of a majestic giraffe, prancing in a field of strawberries. “Maestro, take a look at her,” the Asian woman called over to the man. He slickly moved away from the wall and danced towards me in an incredibly gentle and graceful fashion.

“Who…” I was dizzy. I was confused.

“What’s your name, dear?” the Asian woman asked, leaning over me as she shoved her overwhelmingly large breasts into my face.

“Kentortha… or Ken…” I was dazed and tired.

“Her name is Ken!” The man gave a smirk as he stepped over the Asian woman (his legs were incredibly long).

“Where am I?” I asked, my voice shaking.

“You’re at the place you’ve been looking for this whole time!”

The woods.

“So you know why I’m here?”

“We’ve heard all about you, Ken.”

“So you’ll help me.”

The two figures exchanged a peculiar glance, and they smiled at each other.

“Certainly.”

Perfect. This is what I needed! This is why leaving Lend behind was necessary!

The walls and ceiling ascended into the sky until the two became one. I was in the center of the woods. I was exactly where I wanted to go.

I was going to fix everything now.

1:40 pm  •  18 September 2011  •  4 notes