I wrote a fucking sonnet

Here it is.
The sonnet.
(Can you tell how monotonic my voice is?)
_Lovely_
Stop reading my voice in monotone, okay? ^__ ^


My first try at writing a sonnet:

They gave me a blindfold
And sent me straight into battle
While I'd rather have tea in my castle
Quite frustrating if truth shall be told

Like a slave I was sold
All the soldiers rounded up like cattle
Making an awful rattle
How horrible that I am now a soldier enrolled

Fortuna has yet to smile upon me
If I die, whom will I wake up to be?
Minute into hours, into days we wait

My castle now so very far away
Isn't there someone I can pay?
Oh, what a gruesome fate!


So, any comments? I appreciate feedback, like a lot.

Thanks for reading!

The motion keeps my heart running

Greetings of your choice dear reader.

(Beware of typos and bad grammar. It's night at the moment.)
I feel the urge to write at the moment, so I am. As you can tell. It would be quite impossible not to tell.
You would probably need a improbability drive for that would you not? Moving on...
A new year at Hogwarts has begun for me. (Second and last year at Tollare Folkhögskola/Kreativt-skrivande) And I am taking my studying frightfully seriously.
Not a day have I been away from class these past weeks. My responsibility-rate is off-the-charts in a sense. Having been a non-serious-about-school-kind-of-gal, this behaviour of mine is quite alien to me. Therefore, I am not so sure of how I am to react to the changes that have surfaced so very rapidly. I am given compliments from my teachers for my overall improved demeanour nowadays, and I try to say thank you and not be too embarrased about it. I mean, them complimenting me really just reminds me how much of a mess I was last year. But I am guessing that it would not count as counter-productive. A wild guess indeed... *Sarcastic grin spreads on lips*

Other news are that I have started working brutally on my wardrobe and my excersise.
A good combination, me thinks. Don't you agree? The feeling of having nice clothes is very uplifting I must say. I am given loads of respect from my peers and the likes because of it. It also seems to be angst-prevent-ish. A fact that I enjoy to the fullest. I have not yet dared to order from FanplusFriend (Victorian clothing website.) I suspect I need to read up on the procedures of ordering from that site on a forum or something. But if you (dear reader,) already know about it, please to not hesitate to tell me. It would save me a lot of trouble. Well, perhaps not trouble. But time. Which is precious when one is filling the head with knowledge throughout the day. I sometimes wonder if it will run out of space soon? Hhm.

I was out and about today, like most days. But this day was very scheduled. An oddity on weekends since I usually leave them rather unplanned because my weekdays are all planned up so I get fed up of schedules and, well. Yes. You get it? (I hope you do.)
So any how, I was on a picnic with a couple of friends. We had a great time. It was planned a couple of weeks ago by me and Samuel the middle because we wanted to have a picnic before the weather turned cold and unforgiving. It was a sunny day with happy people, not too cold. Not too hot. It was very pleasant. After the picnic we went to the nerdy place known as Proxxi where we watched a standup-comedian/musician called Tim Minchin. A man I whole-heartidly recommend to right about anyone.

Alas, now it is night and I must stop this typing-frenzy. The tiredness crept up on me like a cat and now I can't seem to keep my eyes open for a writing-manageable enough of time.

So, I wish you a good night's sleep.
May your dreams untangle the mess in your lovely heads.

Tootles! (Funniest word, ever.)

Sincereals~

Nothing in particular really.

"I haven't the foggiest."

As I find myself in a state of mind-boggling confusion quite often these days, the expression I quoted above is proving highly useful and suitable. I am starting to suspect the led from a pencil-tip in my forehead. Don't ask.

Oh well.
Bye for now.

Ibland (ganska kofta) kan man skriva konstiga saker när man har en ånghäst, mmhm!

En dag var Bertil Turesson ute och handlade. Han skulle till Ica JÄTTEMYCKET. Han flög med en svan in till stan, men fick gå halva dan ty den var lam. Lurigt! Utbrast Bertil och fnös lite isländskt. Idag skulle han köpa vindruvor och tvättmedel. Eftersom han skulle baka kakor, alltså. Det fick bli grumme tvättsåpa och en elefant istället, men det gick lika bra tyckte han lite tyskt. När han kom ut ur affären stod där en blå gnu, den sjöng något hiskligt på badkariska. Bertil gjorde den seriöstaste minen han kunde ådstakomma med sitt franska flin och tittade skarpt på gnun. Beatrice som gnun hette trodde att en seriös min betydde att man fick äta bilar, så det gjorde hon. OJ vad goda de var! Smakade som garn och fillipinska ljuslyktor. Bertil såg på i förundran, det var minsan den normalaste gnu han någonsin hade sett i hela sitt liv. Medans allt detta skedde satt en liten råtta på bertils axel och sade prompt: “Jag har i alla fall nagellack på banken, det har inte den där normala gnun” och flög sedan ut i världen med sina vingar gjorda av bly och liiite-lite rysk skolpolitik. Ajökens då! Ropade Bertil till råttan som han inte visste vem det var. Kanske var det en fisk? Han visste inte. Men det skulle han minsan ta reda på med hjälp av pasta, qvicksilver och en höna.

TO BE CÅNTINUE~

Hello and welcome to the enrichment centre

Okay.
So this time it'll work?
No.
But I'll admit it, one must have his or her hopes do they not?
Oh endless loop of negativism, it amazes me how you always succeed in tricking me and nest comfortably somewhere in the back of my mind.
Ready to launch at the call of FRENCH TOAST. I mean steamhorse, ofc. Silly me.
A steamhorse is a nasty thing by the by my dears.
If you try to be nice and pet it it will only burn you with it's kettle-like hide.
If you treat it with apples or carrots in belief that it will soothe the animal it will only buck in anger and neigh for the blackest tea on the market.

I am a fool. A mad fool for thinking you could ever love me and now I have lost my sanity completely. You whispered sincere affection to me and I responded.
You broke the spell, ignorant bastard.

Life is like a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.
...Alas, earwax.

Later~

///Kaiserin

Fullkomligt

Onödigt.

A thing called a heart.

Coldplay - The Scientist

Nobody said it was easy,
oh it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy,
no one ever said it would be so hard

I'm going back to the start~