The Floating Island

May 31

B Side: Lift Me Up

by Ken | 2 Comments | No TrackBacks

Half-hidden by shadow and starlight, the paths of the Floating Island at night form a labyrinth that is neither straightforward, nor entirely real. You attempt to retrace the path you followed out to the Garden, without success. Many times, you feel that you're starting to recognize the terrain around you -- and just as many times, you take a step into reverie instead of a step towards home.

A glimmer of hope appears, in the distance. Torchlight. Before long, you have followed it into an ancient plaza strewn with chunks of coral, as well as marble pulverized by the relentless grasp of vine. In the center of the plaza, you discover a device. Laying hands upon it, you hear a fast, repetitive, relentless beat. It makes your nerves go crystalline with adrenaline, and with each beat of your heart you can feel the distinctive hum of electric bass.

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May 4

I want to learn French

by jaybeans | No Comments

I've always wanted to learn French. It's not a very useful skill, I'll grant you. If I wanted to learn a language I'd be much better off learning Spanish or Mandarin but there's something about French that keeps calling to me. Of course, I've never had a single lesson of French, having taken the far more useless Latin in high school (sure, I can't talk to anyone but I can recite Caesar's report on Gaul. Did you know it's divided into three parts?).

Of course, I doubt I'm going to be able to teach myself French, but I thought why not give a try. So I've got a copy of Rosetta Stone to see if it can help me with my learnding. It's bound to be better than this:

Apr 28

Admin

by Ken | No Comments | No TrackBacks

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Apr 25

A Side: Caffeine

by Ken | 4 Comments | No TrackBacks

One evening, you find yourself wandering the island, full of a strange restless energy, too tired to concentrate but too wound up to relax.

Walking in twilight, studying the moving shadows within the Savage Garden, you catch sight of a spectre humming to himself, whispering an unearthly melody audible only underneath rustling leaves, only between drops of rain.

As you listen, you hear fragments of a story you will never be quite able to piece together. Some of it comes in words, some of it appears in your mind as pictures - but each picture you grab ahold of takes you to another place entirely. Nightfall brings you back from the land of the story just in the nick of time. The ghost, you realize, is long gone.

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