gregorybush
Between the vines the intrepid predator curled and writhed about, mimicking the very flora that surrounded it. With electric eyes divided by feral slits, rows of ivory pyramids slowly emerged from its lips and shone in the thin beams of moonlight that invaded the dense canopy. Prey was near.
Cold hard blocks compose an architecture, towering above the fluffy white canopy. An army of carved earth, brought together by the hands of man and standing strong against the brutality of mother nature's cruel hand.
Features. Is it the specs of the newest gadget, or something as simple as the details of someone's face? Or is it the newest movie playing in the movie theater? Everything has features, but what that actually means depends on how you look at the word.
The wheels of Ragnarok, the sleek skateboard, turned sideways and produced small, but precise jets of flame. Riding the board was a lanky teen dressed in an entirely black suit with a skull design at the collar. His yellow-topaz eyes stared intently at the mirrored horizon, and he casually spun a pair of dual pistols in each hand, ready for whatever monsters may lie ahead. This was the son of the grim reaper himself.
Twice I've left this page, frustrated that the word that revealed itself was one that felt so dreadfully ironic. Maybe it's a sign, maybe it's just coincidence. Have I forgotten about responsibility? No. I don't think I ever could. As tempted as I would ever be, this is my life, and I have a responsibility to others and to myself not to give up. I can't keep letting my defeats hang on me like dirty clothes covered in muck. I have to rise above this. This is my life, I only get this one shot.
Musical is not a skill, it's a feeling. When you can sense the vibrations of tones and recognize when they match and strengthen each other, that is what can make one truly musical. Music isn't always about the individual, but more often about realizing how to function in a group as part of a living, breathing, musical organism.