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BENEATH TANGLED DREAMS: March 2016

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Monday, March 28, 2016. Here was a door at the end of a dimly lit corridor. I walked towards it. I noticed that the walls, the floors, the ceiling, had eyes that stared at me. They looked at me with malice. Pretty shame, pretty shame. I heard their whispers. At the end of the corridor was another door, a Red Door! It called for me. In the end, I looked at the Red Door, that shiny red door, then I screamed with the voices, hailed the sound of horror until the darkness took me away. Saturday, March 26, 2016.

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BENEATH TANGLED DREAMS: September 2016

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Monday, September 5, 2016. ANIZIZA AND THE DRAGON. Niziza came from the far North, through the dried-up earth of the Kalaman Wastes where kingdoms once stood proud and powerful, and passed the Seas of Sorrow where nothing else lived except the ghosts of those that died in countless battles. She was from a fallen city, a lost city that once was a mighty bastion of magic and lore. All of that was gone now. Thelmane, her home, was but a memory. The house of glass,. Of its people,. He gave them warmth. Anizi...

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BENEATH TANGLED DREAMS: June 2016

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Tuesday, June 14, 2016. To dream of wonderful things…. To scheme, dreaming of what is to be…. To scheme –. Somewhere at the edge of everything. Where the dream stirs and wallows,. The dreamer that dreams of many things,. Who hopes and prays and calls out. To the old voices in his head. Long dead – unremembered. What was then was then,. Old, abandoned, forgotten…. In a time when days were quiet. And life had meaning – purpose,. When things simple, less complicated,. When men thought of words to inspire,.

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BENEATH TANGLED DREAMS: ANIZIZA AND THE DRAGON

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Monday, September 5, 2016. ANIZIZA AND THE DRAGON. Niziza came from the far North, through the dried-up earth of the Kalaman Wastes where kingdoms once stood proud and powerful, and passed the Seas of Sorrow where nothing else lived except the ghosts of those that died in countless battles. She was from a fallen city, a lost city that once was a mighty bastion of magic and lore. All of that was gone now. Thelmane, her home, was but a memory. The house of glass,. Of its people,. He gave them warmth. Anizi...

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BENEATH TANGLED DREAMS: April 2016

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Wednesday, April 6, 2016. He world ended. It happened on a bleak night, when the stars fell from the sky and a big ball of light blinded me. I covered my eyes but it was too late. And I heard the rumbling of decadent noises, the screams of distant voices filled with pain, and in my blindness I hid from the horror, yet my ears yearned for silence from the sound of death! It burned – they all burned. I was a witness to it all! O how I screamed… how I screamed! I thought, as my mind was ablaze spinning arou...

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Legend of the Jump Bike (Fire Eye Spitfire)Valleybikes |

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August 13, 2015. Legend of the Jump Bike (Fire Eye Spitfire). IT is written that the bicycle should match the skills of the rider. Show me your bike and I can guess your ride performance and social stature. Still, there are others who simply like to pimp up their bikes because they love seeing nice aesthetics, but that’s about it. There is imbalance in the force with that. This is a serious jump bike. It is seeking for a worthy knight to tame it. Are you worthy enough? Fire eye Spitfire frame.

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BENEATH TANGLED DREAMS

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Monday, September 5, 2016. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). M A Del Rosario is an artist and a storyteller who lives in the Philippines. He gave up the corporate world a long time ago and now does freelance and hunts dragons most of the time. Sometimes he chats with tentacled gods. He lives with his wife Zoe and his son Morpheus in a quiet suburban village where the birds still chirp, fireflies are real and where cats question the existence of men. View my complete profile. ANIZIZA AND THE DRAGON.

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BENEATH TANGLED DREAMS: THE FOREVER DWELLER

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Tuesday, June 14, 2016. To dream of wonderful things…. To scheme, dreaming of what is to be…. To scheme –. Somewhere at the edge of everything. Where the dream stirs and wallows,. The dreamer that dreams of many things,. Who hopes and prays and calls out. To the old voices in his head. Long dead – unremembered. What was then was then,. Old, abandoned, forgotten…. In a time when days were quiet. And life had meaning – purpose,. When things simple, less complicated,. When men thought of words to inspire,.

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BENEATH TANGLED DREAMS: DISTANT VOICES

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Wednesday, April 6, 2016. He world ended. It happened on a bleak night, when the stars fell from the sky and a big ball of light blinded me. I covered my eyes but it was too late. And I heard the rumbling of decadent noises, the screams of distant voices filled with pain, and in my blindness I hid from the horror, yet my ears yearned for silence from the sound of death! It burned – they all burned. I was a witness to it all! O how I screamed… how I screamed! I thought, as my mind was ablaze spinning arou...