I'm not closing this journal by any means, but currently I am posting more frequently, or maybe exclusively to Livejournal.

http://flambeauvivant.livejournal.com/

I believe, therefore I understand.

mood:Hot ice

Alright, so due to popular demand the Auction is back and this time it comes with dirty little secrets. All will be revealed.

Sign up Here.

mood:Primal

Ah for two fading little bruises above your hipbone.

mood:Heated.

Louis.

You demanded that I write for all to see just why you are and will always be better than me, giving me a month in which to compose such an earnestly self deprecating document. Here it is and posted on the very same night, because if there is one thing you’re not good at it’s providing an impossible task. It’s not such a difficult thing to pen, but you do better me at optimism where this is concerned.

We raced. I lost. Your horse was the faster, your unseating hand the faster. You aren’t a better horseman than I am, but you are better in many more disciplined and infinitely more composed and clever ways. I shall yell to the stars - in fact, you’ve already heard me and no, I won’t stop - that you can and do and have and will better me in a thousand ways which surpass this recent equestrian victory. I can even do it without resorting to mere blather and lies. Of course, as the months tick away bloodlessly, the tone may well change, but as the better fiend you are no doubt prepared for every unraveling eventuality and will take the raw delirium in your stride. Is that mine or yours? I’ll bow to your judgment on that since you’ve obviously foreseen more than I have.

The world knows you are patient where I am not, consider what I do not, think where I act, wait where I charge on. I’m sure these very qualities will serve you best in the coming months. I know the caliber of your strength, which is a different quality of fortitude from my own, less lauded, less recognized but in no way inferior despite being quieter, more predictable and often more reasonable. Ha. You have never sought oblivion in the earth as I have. Yet. You have never forgiven any slight, nor forgotten past transgressions, which smoldering memory has now prompted to lay down my present forfeit.

I have not forgotten the year which is the spur to this reprisal, nor the furious sense of humiliation you endured at my hands so much better than I am about to at yours. Or at least I won’t accept it in a spirit of willing abandon. You always did that best of all.

To the victor, the spoils.




How do you best me, let me count the ways.
You best me in the depth and breadth and height
Your soul can reach, surpassing my own - bright
With fairly won exultance for a race.
You best me at the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by moon and candle-light.
You best me always, in your strive for right;
You best me purely, in museful malaise
You best me with eroding passions used
On ancient spites, and dreaming mortal faith.
You best my unrestrained ardor diffused
By common sense, --- You best me with red chains,
Promises, privations --- though now I lose,
I shall but best thee when we race again.

mood:amused

Have I told you how exquisite Louis can taste on a sultry beach? As I wait for him, I am reminded of all those little moments dotted meaningfully throughout the years, just stolen sensory pinpricks that meant nothing at the time, but sank profoundly into my memory as a representation of simple bliss.

mood:peaceful

http://www.sublimerequiem.com/lestat/feeling_good.wma

mood:hot

These last few nights have seen me float on a perfect haze. I grow ever more worshipful of the subtleties of change, of soft rain and sweet gusts of winter breeze, of the changing quality of light, of nothing, really, yet in this nothing, this perfect ordinariness I find the arcane mystery of my own soul.

mood:content

Happy Halloween

mood:quixotic

Without a little madness there can be no sanity.

mood:nostalgic

music:The Cure: Head on the Door

Hate says more about he who hates than the object of his antipathy. It's a crude emotion, weak. No-one truly contemptible merits the expenditure of what astringent energy it takes to hate. They deserve disdain and an absence of emotion. Hate tends to be somewhat mythological in nature; one can hate a label or representation or group of souls, and more truly in doing so for what they stand in relation to ones own values, but how difficult a thing is it to truly hate a breathing, expressive individual. Intimacy is the enemy of hate. Despise another and you express discomfort with a part of your own soul.

Ah, but I enjoy intimacy with those who fire my soul with contempt. I enjoy the kiss of primitive impulse. My mind is at war with the beast in my heart.

mood:devious

Preces meae non sunt dignae,
sed tu, bonus, fac benigne,
ne perenni cremer igne.

mood:discontent

music:Mozart's Requiem

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

mood:Black

Far away
The ship is taking me far away
Far away from the memories
Of the people who care if I live or die

Starlight
I will be chasing the starlight
Until the end of my life
I don't know if it's worth it anymore

Hold you in my arms
I just wanted to hold
You in my arms

My life
You electrify my life
Let's conspire to reignite
All the souls that would die just to feel alive

But I'll never let you go
If you promise not to fade away
Never fade away

Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations
Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations

Hold you in my arms
I just wanted to hold
You in my arms

music:Starlight: Muse

The swanky new Sublime Requiem is open. Meet me on the forum, mes amies.

NB: You will encounter a screen that instructs you to update your birthday. Follow instructions, and we will see you on the other side.

mood:accomplished

In retrospect it seems fitting, as if I didn’t act on a moment of impulse but found myself inevitably drawn here as if to the fulcrum of my sanity. Paris represents the past to me like nowhere else. Paris is the city of my very rebirth. And it is in Paris that I now shed all pretense at expiation in a shower of invisible silvery scales. I die again and am reborn. Paris knows. Beneath the glitz of my deluded moral aspirations lies something far older and familiar. This restless city always knew the steady depth of my evil even when I thought I might rise above it. She welcomes me home with a jaded smile.

mood:cynical

If I could stick my pen in my heart
And spill it all over the stage
Would it satisfy ya, would it slide on by ya
Would you think the boy is strange? Ain't he strange?

If I could win ya, if I could sing ya
A love song so divine
Would it be enough for your cheating heart
If I broke down and cried? If I cried?

I said I know it's only rock 'n roll but I like it
I know it's only rock 'n roll but I like it, like it, yes, I do
Oh, well, I like it, I like it, I like it
I said can't you see that this old boy has been a lonely?

If I could stick a knife in my heart
Suicide right on stage
Would it be enough for your teenage lust
Would it help to ease the pain? Ease your brain?

If I could dig down deep in my heart
Feelings would flood on the page
Would it satisfy ya, would it slide on by ya
Would ya think the boy's insane? He's insane

I said I know it's only rock 'n roll but I like it
I said I know it's only rock'n roll but I like it, like it, yes, I do
Oh, well, I like it, I like it, I like it
I said can't you see that this old boy has been a lonely?

And do ya think that you're the only girl around?
I bet you think that you're the only woman in town

I said I know it's only rock 'n roll but I like it
I said I know it's only rock 'n roll but I like it
I said I know it's only rock 'n roll but I like it, like it, yes, I do
Oh, well, I like it, I like it. I like it...

mood:Yes, I do

Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.

mood:restless

The Auction begins


Are you ready to put it all on the line? Do you want to be at our fickle mercy? Or even an honorary immortal as part of our own coven?

Would you like to possess your own immortal? Do you know who you'd like to own, to pet, to order or to spoil? Would you like a mortal to call your own?

This is the fourth great Sublime Auction.

Soon you will have your choice of Sublimers to bid on and claim as your prize. Soon you will be able to throw caution to the wind and invite an owner.

You can either offer yourself up as a auction prize, or gather coins with which to bid on others to be your own. You can even do both at the same time!

But before you get too carried away, you must sign yourselves over to our mercy, or gather yourselves points which we will convert into coins, with which you can make your bids.

Now you can do either, but hurry! You only have two weeks. Bon chance.