tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75977696382545554382011-07-08T09:09:01.236-05:00A collection of writings by me, Kami. a.k.a. Ashikada Nanashi / Anne TeensmaAnne [aka Kami]http://www.blogger.com/profile/18001019893817417485noreply@blogger.comBlogger121100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7597769638254555438.post-27286435051929639652010-08-08T00:10:00.000-05:002010-08-08T00:12:12.641-05:00

This was getting ridiculous.A glance to the left, some lovey-dovey couple. A glance to the right, and BAM! Another one. Even right in front of his face, there was yet a third. The young man slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand, dragging it down the length of his face in over-exaggerated exasperation, accompanied by a not-so-quiet sigh.He was sure that at least one of them gave him a

Anne [aka Kami]http://www.blogger.com/profile/18001019893817417485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7597769638254555438.post-60640298529257136102009-04-07T23:39:00.001-05:002009-04-07T23:41:01.328-05:00

Brown, black, pink, green.Yellow, orange, red, gray.Storming, a torrent, downpour. No one out and about, just a lonely bland road. Not even a icky, squishy bug was out. Lightning exploded, illuminating the coal-black night sky. Seconds later, a deafening roar of thunder; it shook the pictures on the wall, the stuffed animals on the shelf. A young girl stared outside the window, thinking. Her

Anne [aka Kami]http://www.blogger.com/profile/18001019893817417485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7597769638254555438.post-68344312720883793772009-02-18T04:47:00.001-06:002009-02-18T04:55:08.791-06:00

I press my hands against the window glasswatching the rain outside.I want to cry,but the tears won't come.Sitting on the floor,I watch the cars go past,my emotions a tangled mess,unsure of what I feel.Anxiety.Euphoria.Despair.hope.As I sit here,the heavens cryingthe tears I cannot shed,I wonder --is there any possibility?I don't know.When the rain lets up,I'll search for answers.But, until then,

Anne [aka Kami]http://www.blogger.com/profile/18001019893817417485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7597769638254555438.post-8545877419313757742009-02-18T04:40:00.002-06:002009-02-18T04:43:15.410-06:00

Someone save me from myself,Hatred burning in my soul,Before I completely loose it...and spiral...out of control --reach me.Rescue me.M'aidez,m'aidez --Help me.05/2005

Anne [aka Kami]http://www.blogger.com/profile/18001019893817417485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7597769638254555438.post-43141101222282084242009-02-12T00:19:00.003-06:002009-02-12T00:27:44.601-06:00

Rain splattered on the windshield, the torrential downpour the last outburst of a waning summer. For most, the rain was a welcome relief after a month of record-breaking heat, but to twenty-four-year-old Hermione Granger, it was nothing but a nuisance. Grinding her teeth, a part of her longed to cast a water-repelling charm on her car. Bloody rules. The young woman sighed and popped a CD into her

Anne [aka Kami]http://www.blogger.com/profile/18001019893817417485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7597769638254555438.post-22603107662695891602009-02-12T00:19:00.001-06:002009-02-12T00:19:53.275-06:00

You know, right?…I’m the oneFeeling crushed… A tall young man with curly blond hair stood outside the hospital entrance. Sohma Momiji, having skipped school that day to see Honda Tohru, stood in front of the hospital doors, armed only with his usagi backpack. A gentle breeze blew through his hair as he stood there, hesitating to enter. What would he say to Tohru? What if Kyo was there, or Akito?

Anne [aka Kami]http://www.blogger.com/profile/18001019893817417485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7597769638254555438.post-28052326202138602872009-02-12T00:18:00.000-06:002009-02-12T00:19:16.202-06:00

I dont feel bitter about being cursed……I’m just not meant to be kind. The beautiful day outside was a sharp contrast to the aura that filled the workroom of Sohma Shigure. The handsome raven-haired man sat at his desk, tapping a pen against the frames of his reading glasses. He was supposed to be writing the sequel to one of his books, but his mind just couldnt concentrate. To make things worse,

Anne [aka Kami]http://www.blogger.com/profile/18001019893817417485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7597769638254555438.post-64244760901761380532009-02-12T00:16:00.001-06:002009-02-12T00:17:25.975-06:00

Death and time were funny things. Not funny in the humorous sense, but funny as in strange. All through life, death is something no one looks forward to, but when the moment comes, it is accepted, oft with open arms. And time! How fast it seems to go at the most inopportune times; and yet, when one wishes for it to accelerate, it slows down to snail’s pace. When the oddities of death and time

Anne [aka Kami]http://www.blogger.com/profile/18001019893817417485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7597769638254555438.post-79786094732885885022009-02-12T00:13:00.000-06:002009-02-12T00:14:54.173-06:00

Someone up there must really hate him. Why else would his life be so miserable? First, he lost his parents, then the girl he loved, then his friends….why? What had he done to turn fate against him? In his opinion, it was only a matter of time before he died, the way things were going. Jet scowled, brows knitted together, sepia eyes flashing dangerously. There was no way he’d go down without a

Anne [aka Kami]http://www.blogger.com/profile/18001019893817417485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7597769638254555438.post-76377693496871702572009-02-12T00:12:00.002-06:002009-02-12T00:14:55.849-06:00

Darkness, nothing but darkness in her world. A black expanse in which no light could enter. Not even the strongest light could penetrate that wall of ebony, so thick it was. It wasnt, though, that she was afraid of the light. Far from it — she welcomed the light’s pleasant warmth. No, Toph Bei Fong didnt fear the light — she was just blind. Just! The twelve-year-old girl snorted. It was her

Anne [aka Kami]http://www.blogger.com/profile/18001019893817417485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7597769638254555438.post-9030094275968228642009-02-11T08:20:00.002-06:002009-02-12T00:15:12.373-06:00

War. It was commonplace to hear about it, about the lives taken and destroyed by the Fire Nation. It was nothing, really; every day someone died, and life moved on. With the world crumbling down, yielding, making way for Fire Lord Ozai’s ambitious goals, it seemed there was nothing anyone could do. The Avatar was gone, had disappeared a hundred years ago; why should anyone care anymore? But then

Anne [aka Kami]http://www.blogger.com/profile/18001019893817417485noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7597769638254555438.post-24424605892306305452009-02-11T08:14:00.002-06:002009-02-12T00:15:17.594-06:00

Alone. Silence was his playfellow, darkness his mistress. He had nothing, no one. His once-vast fortune was left in the hands of his idiot son, the soft little bastard. His wife left him, left him to rot at the hands of the Ministry. His name, his legacy, tarnished beyond repair.Five years ago, the world had been his terrified oyster. He rode that monstrous wave, the wave of fear and meyhem, of

Anne [aka Kami]http://www.blogger.com/profile/18001019893817417485noreply@blogger.com