Oh, hello people!
How are you?!Well... I'm sick... How great is that?!
My ears are just a wreck and now I need to take 4 types of drugs for 8 days... UUUGGGH... I almost can't hear from my left ear... it seams that my Eustachian tubes are blocked because of the flu... Anyway... I still couldn't go through all the comments on the last "Watcher's Feature" journal. The internet connection I use on the city I study is really slow, so I only have decent net on the weekends when I come home...
And I found out about my 3 month PM given to me by the awesome
and suggested by my lovely 
(Hayzy... you know I love you! 
)
Thank you so much to the both of you! 
I finally recorded the "Assassin's Creed III Main Theme" on my piano! And... as I promised... here it is!
(I'm sorry.. it still has some mistakes, I'll solve with time! XD)Oh... btw! Almost forgot!!! JUST LOOK AT THIIIIS!!! 8D
Anna finally finished this lil' one! It features her baby Birne and my baby Andresa! They grow so faaaaast!
(yeah... I never draw Andresa... the poor thing already hates me... :/ and... that's not good! XD)
Watcher's Feature 
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![[UTAU].:No More:. [ChristinaTolken] by cookychristina](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/ff21ca49-e418-4972-a73b-39970c9a05da/d5ga5a1-007c3630-3a6b-4946-b37e-e84a2319dae6.png/v1/fit/w_150,h_150,q_70,strp/_utau___no_more____christinatolken__by_cookychristina_d5ga5a1-150.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NTYzIiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvZmYyMWNhNDktZTQxOC00OTcyLWE3M2ItMzk5NzBjOWEwNWRhXC9kNWdhNWExLTAwN2MzNjMwLTNhNmItNDk0Ni1iMzdlLWU4NGEyMzE5ZGFlNi5wbmciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9OTAwIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.i5_jUGh1ilJ7ufeu8PyoLMAqPB4-ttwIFVHmS3eivyw)
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Pond-trawlingI splosh-squelch my way through the pond,
my dress trailing in the scummy water.
‘This used to be the testing pond,’ my grandmother told me.
Trawling my net - bought from the local pound shop -
through the water, I hope to find one.
Last time, nothing, and they’re getting rarer.
‘Women were ducked in this pond,’ my grandmother told me.
‘If they floated, they were called witches
and their punishment was burning.’
I used to think they were just placed
too near to a fire, had irons pressed on skin.
I see something in the gloomy water and sweep
my net and catch-! A dead fish with a frog
sucking on its head. Frogs are useless,
but I like this one so I put it in the cage
with the single newt I managed to capture.
Froggy croaks worriedly, but he needn’t be afraid;
I stick to the family recipe and only use eye of newt.
The Art of Moving OnThe trees spread color like psychic airwaves, crisping and tinting and fresh-edging the world for your eyes.
Making the world loud and beautiful in front of your face.
When the green arrives it makes the words "20 days hath September, April May and November" trip off of my mother's tongue and spin around her head.
People brag about their achievements, their next destination now.
Flowers are pressed to parents' chests for ballet recitals, to children's chests because they were plucked.
And when the rain departs from its late arrival, dragging grey-haired dandelions in its wake,
When the sun comes out and spreads itself in crumpled splotches, bronzing with the dawn,
I'm right here.
Locked behind words, obligations, a screen, an assignment.
All the while June--with her dirty fingernails and her grass-stained knees--beckons us forth, calls us on to slide down the last slope of time until we can call ourselves free.
Spring will count for you the time it takes in cricket chirps, in falling p
Cosmic SymphonyThe notes build up deep within you
burning at your core
snaking through your veins until your skin hums red-hot with fire.
They say the sun is hottest
when you are just barely out of reach.
It is there you shall ignite.
But if I managed
to slip past your blistering corona
past the halo of light that surrounds you -
and stroke your scorching surface
would I find the right
to burn with you?
And maybe
I could learn to play you
like the instrument you are.
Helios, god of the sun,
your surface shudders with sound,
melodious vibrations
unfit for such ears as mine.
Yet still I wonder what you would sound like
if my hands would not
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Forbidden and BeautifulI hold your soft hand,
Nails painted pink like the law;
Mine are painted, too.
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And.... I'm done for today! x'D How was your week?
