Giulianna, who was broken in the assembly line

MUSIC

FILMS

LITERATURE

GOOD TV (rarely)

THE OCCULT

LEARNING OF THE INTANGILE FORCES, whatever it is you call it, energy, magick... I believe in that.

I generaly love anything that has anything to do with creating.
Currently writing, mostly, though I do make art.

a little taste:

Masked

They both sat in a dim lit room, stone walls gave the candlelight a welcoming palette that suited them so. He held a wine glass in his hands in a way he thought sophisticated and elegant. She sat in a very stiff manner, not because she was uncomfortable but rather because she wanted to be as lady-like and refined as she could to go with her Victorian attire that also matched his.

"What is love, but a simple illusion where you feel as though you are not quite as alone as you really are?" He asked, finally breaking the silence.
"Love is ecstasy of the senses, it is indulging oneself with the presence of another and enjoying the wonders of the physical realm with said person."
He cleared his throat, glaring at her while simultaneously swirling the vibrant red liquid in the glass, almost causing it to spill, but not quite. "There is no such thing, Vivian. That is lust you speak of, the," he repeated her words in a very unpleasant manner, "the 'wonders of the physical realm', nothing but rubbish. There is no peace of mind in such endeavors and I will not hear otherwise, you understand?"
She nodded.
"Do you consider yourself a romantic, Vivian?"

She looked down at her gloved hands, entwining her long slender fingers with each other and releasing them, stretching them, only to twist them into another again, repeatedly as if in a trance.

"Vivian!"

She let go of her hands and folded them in her lap, looking up to his face she asked him what he thought love was.

He laughed coldly.

"Vivian, my dearest Vivian," he paused to absorb her blank expression, "There is no such thing! As I said it is but an illusion. It is nothing more than harboring strong delusions that you are not alone. In life and after."

A long silence surrounded them, no sounds from the outside reached this place, she thought, this damned place. It was too far in ground for even the highest pitched of screams to be heard, she thought, almost as if it were another place altogether, separate from the modern world, just as well, she thought, because he was also.

"Nothing," he took her hands into his own, ?nothing will ever change that, Vivian. And never forget you are alone and only you will ever live to harvest the seeds that you sow, no other being will feel your emotions for you. With that said, we are all alone, just lost in a sea of the mundane.?

He let go of her hands and sat back down in the dusty old decrepit Victorian-esque lounge chair

Vivian pointed to a stack of very old, late-nineteenth century tomes.

"You read a lot of that, don't you?"

"Yes."

A few moments passed and Vivian bent over to reach under the chair and brought out a script.

"That's the end of the scene."
She sat back down and relaxed, "Well that was good!"
He nodded.

"Although, couldn't we rehearse this elsewhere?"

He shrugged, "This helps the atmosphere, I guess, and it's my home so I'm more comfortable here than in some noisy place out there."

"So," She began after a long bout of silence. "What do you really think love is?"

"Out of character?"

She nodded.

"Personally, I've given up on it. It?s too much sometimes, and the last thing I need in my life is something else to give me problems and headaches."

"It's not that bad."

An eerie sneer crept into his face and he then began to unleash upon her a great many insults involving her self-image and bleached-blonde hair and expensive jewelry. She got really angry at this then and her face turned bright red and she began to cry in her ire, while in his placid face the sneer prevailed.

"Well, just because you wrote the piece doesn't mean you have to be in it!? She exclaimed, almost whining.

"I'm good friends with the director AND the producer, so as far as we're concerned you'd sooner be off than I."

She stormed off, then, leaving behind her a trail of footsteps I the dusty floor, muttering something about how she had thought he was nice and how disappointed she was in his immature behavior.

He remained sitting there, barely containing his laughter.

He looks at you and says, the only true love of his is just really pissing people off and playing with their emotions, seeing how far he could take them before they eject themselves from the situation.

But a sadist he was not, and his guilt would eventually find him. Tomorrow he would apologize to her. He liked her even though she might have been the most annoying person to ever walk this planet, not to mention nosy. He was in love with life.

Charity and Making this world a better place

It's important to acknowledge that this is happening. I know it's easy to forget because it's not a big part of our personal lives, but keep in mind that there are those out there who don't have necessities, and you can help them in small ways.