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Old 04-25-2013, 04:56 AM
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PixiRosenThorne PixiRosenThorne is offline
Join Date: Mar 2013
Location: Crownsville
Posts: 17

Its midnight-thirty as I write this. I have just been browsing a blog sight and reading through Karma's few blogs. The one that caught my attention was essentially a story he had written about a very deeply harsh and personal time in his life. I doubt he remembers half of that story but to me it was absolutely beautiful. I love the way he writes. Its so precise and makes you feel exactly what he intends. The words are so eloquent and flow well. As Im reading, I am falling into the characters he creates. I know both of these characters as real human beings in real life. I know the story he painted. I knew the ending but I just kept reading.

There are times where I wonder not if I love him, but if I am truly in love with that skinny goth boy, or if its just a hard-core infatuation that I finally have a skinny goth boy to love. Tonight, while I was reading my emotions caught me, as the often do, completely off guard. He was no longer human, he was no longer the man I see. I saw into him, the creature he is at his core. I felt his pain, his confusion, elated in his triumphs, cringed at his wounds. Part of me wanted to cry because of the rawness he showed and how open he became. The larger part of me wanted nothing more than to have him here with me, pull him to my chest and hold him there forever. I fell desperately, unintentionally in love with him as I read. But it wasnt the man Karma. It was all those bits a pieces that he cant show in everyday life. I fell in love with exactly who he is on the inside.

The characters in his story as I said are real people, but somehow when you turn those people into words on paper, you can do so much more with them, really express how things happened in your head. I do this too. I have a character blog of my own and just the other night I turned some really perturbing events into a story. Eyes dont turn black with rage, fangs dont dig into your lips when you want to kill. Butlers dont come into your room to check on you after a 500 year old vampire barges in with the intent on consuming you. I suppose its a coping mechanism.

In his story, there were two characters. They were brothers in arms, old friends and as always, there was a Master and an apprentice. No matter that this was a fantasy world where eyes glowed and swords could elicit lightening and potions turned you into smoke, or that one could walk through shadows as if simply taking a step. This was a story of willpower, of soul bending truth and eventually death. It was everything that Karma had in his head and heart glowing in blue letters against blackness.

I do often forget that we dont live in fairy tales. But I never forget a good one. I always know that under the printed words, the human writing them is hurting, or healing. And thats what it was. It was a story of healing. I fell in love with his soul in those words. Once again, I plummeted from my human body into love with someone falling as hard and just as fast as me.
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