Sweet's Journal

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 21:48:32 GMT

Which LOTR character are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Gandalf

You are Gandalf! This wise, old mage is loyal and brave. He is known for his counsel and advice to his friends and allies during tough times.
"All you have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given to you."

Gandalf

81%

Eowyn

69%

Samwise

44%

Gollum

44%

Arwen

38%

Faramir

38%

Pippin

31%

Aragorn

25%

Frodo

19%

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 20:59:04 GMT

The University of Blogging

Presents to
singindemonhq

An Honorary
Bachelor of
Attention Seeking

Majoring in
Bad Poetry

Signed
Dr. GoQuiz.com

Blogging Degree
From Go-Quiz.com

Writer's Block: Earth Vacation

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 16:25:20 GMT

If you were an alien and came to Earth, what would you tell the folks back home about the planet, its people, etc?

Submitted by sweetinsanity90

View other answers

Entertaining...

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 21:32:25 GMT

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don't speak often, please post a comment with a memory of you and me. It can be anything you want--good or bad. When you're finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people remember about you

Theatrical Muse 237, Birthday celebrations

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 21:18:20 GMT

I turn on the music and bring in the fun,
I dance and I sing in the Gigs that I run,
There are songs for them all and no one I reject,
And the lord of the dance ought to get some respect.

I give them the words that give shape to the beat,
With the swing and the song and the swift-tapping feet,
With the lilt in the breeze and the songs of the sea,
But there’s times that the cast don’t appreciate me!

Well, they may have to sing when they’re tired and they’re drained,
And the really hot numbers keep me entertained,
While they sing of their joys and they sing of their ills,
Do the cast ever think that it’s me that’s so skilled?

The time runs quite fast in your world, guess you know?
It goes slower by far in the Kingdom below,
And I guess I don’t know when my birthday would fall,
But I’ve got cause to celebrate, thanks to you all!
……………………………………………………………

I got the “Most Talented” Tammy!
I guess that’s a great way to celebrate!

Muse; Sweet the Singing Demon,
Fandom, BTVS
Words; 186

Theatrical Muse 235, Show us where you live.

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 21:16:00 GMT

Have you got the Talisman?
Did you summon me?
That’s the way you’d reach my home,
That’s the way you’d see.

Maybe you’re a chancer,
Seeking for a mate?
Maybe you’re a dancer,
Swinging to your fate?

Maybe you’re a dreamer,
Singing for a lark?
Maybe witch or wizard,
Challenging the dark?

Maybe you’re a poet,
Rhyming the absurd?
Maybe you’re a writer,
Snares in every word?

P’raps you’re drawn to fire?
Seeking what you’ve lost?
Want to came and join me?
Can you count the cost?

Weeks by your Earth’s counting,
Pass in just a day.
Take the glowing jewel,
Call me down in May.

Come and dance in springtime,
See the flowers bloom.
Count the days in faerie,
Plan to leave in June?

Snows of frozen winters,
Pass on Earth too fast,
All you leave behind you,
Crumbles in the past.

Hear Thomas the Rhymer,
Hear poor Tristan cry,
Weeks of love and laughter -
Centuries passing by.

Would you see my homeland?
Take the jewel and sing.
Come and dance in summer,
While time is on the wing.

Muse; Sweet the Singing Demon
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 187

232 - Is there ever a situation where it’s appropriate to be unkind?

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Fri, 23 May 2008 17:59:08 GMT

I’m a very honest demon,
And I guess my songs are proof.
I don’t see the point of kindness,
You just get to sing the truth –
I guess I should sing, you’ll tell the truth you see,
And you’ll find my songs are all for honesty.

You can sing about your buddies,
And your latest cool playmate.
You can sing about your neighbours,
And the people that you hate,
And the impulses you come by naturally
But you’ll find you’re going to sing with honesty.

You may find you’re singing loudly,
That her ass looks big in that,
You may find you’re warbling proudly,
That you’ve stolen next door’s cat.

You may sing about your love-life
And the things you’d like to change.
You could sing about your habits,
And the things your world finds strange.
Someone once sang that the truth shall make you free,
That’s an argument for real true honesty.

You may sing about your friendships,
Or the things that you despise.
But you won’t find too much kindness,
Don’t you find that’s mostly lies?
But the truth can hurt, I’m sure that you’ll agree?
Oh there’s nothing burns like real true honesty,
Put away your lies and come and sing with me!

Muse, Sweet the Singing Demon,
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 206

Theatrical Muse 361

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Tue, 20 May 2008 02:00:57 GMT

"Everything passes. Nobody gets anything for keeps. And that's how we've got to live." Haruki Murakami.

Not all humans understand that. They’re too short-lived and some of them are too unlucky. It’s the good things that tend to pass, however close they’re held. It’s the bad things that can last humans for a lifetime, (especially if they’re bad enough to kill – or to get the customer so stirred up about it that he gets a real hot number.) Some of them sing that pain never dies, not really. Maybe they’re right.

The good things are different. Most humans haven’t got much control of their own lives and if a thing is good enough there’s usually somebody hanging around to take it away from them. (Monkeys live a lot like that, too, but they don’t sing worth a damn.)

Humans can’t even hold onto their lives for long enough to get much use out of them. Now, in some parts of the world the customers often sing that they get to make all their important choices while they’re still too inexperienced to really know what they’re doing. Years back even those countries looked at things differently, children were just smaller people. They did their chores and they sang their songs and, if they lived, one day they started thinking about getting married and the priest or the factor looked them up in the parish register and told them whether they could do it.

There weren’t as many choices in those kind of societies;there weren’t as many changes. There were losses, though. There are always losses.

Children die, lovers age.
Pain lives on, so does rage,
Beauty fades, laughter too.
Nothing lasts, know it true.
Nations fail, metals rust,
Petals fall into dust.

Humans spend most of their lives old and nobody gets anything to keep. ~~Not even me.~~

I hear the songs, and I know.

Muse. Sweet the singing demon
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 300

Theatrical Muse 228, 3a.m.

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Sun, 04 May 2008 11:45:08 GMT

3a.m.

Humans say that midnight is the witching hour, but I’ve heard 3a.m. called the vampire hour. They sing that it’s the hour that leeches away human strength and stamina, the time when humans tend to die, the hour when energies burn the lowest and the life-fires dim.

That may be so when humans are old or sick. I’ve heard that 3a.m. is the hour when Death drifts between the sickbeds and the scythe swings slow, with no one to hear the movement, or to see the light shine a dim glimmer along the moving blade.

I wouldn’t know, that ain’t my kind of Gig, (and Death can tap-dance but he don’t sing too well.) I’ve been called to hospitals in the past, and to lazar houses and the plague villages, but with me some kind of happy ending’s part of the deal, and those ain’t the places to have one.

If I’ve gotta be around at 3a.m. I’ll head for the bars. “In vino veritus”, they say - and it’s easy enough to start a drunk singing.

Muse; “Sweet” the singing demon.
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 170

227 A friend asks you to recommend a book: which book would you choose and why?

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Sun, 04 May 2008 08:43:19 GMT

I sing more languages than you may know,
And would agree, thy lives are but a show.
And on the whole, some can be entertaining,
But hear, a life of endless Gigs is draining.

Those who would judge me may say at a look,
I ain’t the kind to recommend a book.
The truth is somewhat different, (in my role,
I am at least as happy with a scroll.)
My library is, sadly, far away.
But, from my memory, it seems best to say,
That Plato wrote quite well, so Socrates,
Was shown with wit that would be sure to please,
(While Xenophon, the military kind,
Showed Socrates to be of duller mind.
But if they quote philosophy or jest,
Their writings still show their own minds the best.)

But Alcibiades wrote a journal, once,
And that’s a man that never was a dunce,
Although in war he was oft' known as rash,
In private life - well, he was into “slash,”
And “het” as well, (and things that I can’t rhyme.
Like other men of Athens in his time!)
(But I forget, the censors had their way,
There was no public printing in that day,
And there were those who thought the volumes dross,
That library was burned, to human loss.
A scroll or two, a palimpsest, no more
Were saved to serve the ages as before.)

It seems my mind has wandered far away,
The questioner said “A book”, and for today.
Will Shakespeare wrote quite well, but then erelong,
you’ll find that reading him affects your song.

Ah, fret me not, you’ll get no more from me!
I haven’t seen a bookshop recently.
It’s not your modern writers that I spurn,
Your modern “paper” is too quick to burn!

Muse, "Sweet" the singing demon.
Fandom, BTVS
Words 280

OCC

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Sun, 06 Apr 2008 03:57:47 GMT

My computer is still bad and I am also trying to relocate. Things are in chaos but I will be back as soon as I can.

Theatrical Muse 225,

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Sun, 06 Apr 2008 03:53:23 GMT

Current Topic: "Do not the most moving moments of our lives find us without words?" Marcel Marceau.

I never met the guy, but I guess he wasn’t a justice demon – not my kind, anyway. Everyone thinks of us as the musical operatives but the truth is that words are my shtick. I work with the words that give shape to love and hate, to indifference and frustration and to rage and sorrow and fear.

I know the grey words that lure depression out to dance in the flickering shadows, while grief cries in a minor key. All the secrets lured out of the dark, given shape with the words, set to a tune to give them dancing shoes and put on stage to entertain.

That’s only the beginning, of course. That’s the overture. Who knows what happens after the curtain falls?

It can be kind of frightening to realize how much intelligent creatures have in common. “In the beginning was the word - and that’s one of the big secrets. Words are the difference between a thinking creature and an animal. Words shape the thoughts that shape your worlds.

Muse; Sweet the Singing Demon,
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 175.

OOC

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Mon, 17 Mar 2008 04:33:48 GMT

My computer has failed completely. I will be back as soon as I can and I do apologise to everyone.

Theatrical Muse. 221; Justice.

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Sun, 09 Mar 2008 01:21:07 GMT

Topic 221 "Never pray for justice, because you might get some." - Margaret Atwood
_________________________________________________________________________________________

Justice is a strange thing. The whole concept is kind of … slippery, though I guess I shouldn’t say that, or sing it, either. There are several classes of creature who claim to be “Justice Demons”, but I’m not sure how well any of us do the job.

Mostly when humans say they “just want justice” what they really want is revenge. There’s a whole demonic industry catering to that. Just make a wish in front of the wrong person and you can find out a lot about that class of justice demon. The Vengeance Girls can be okay, in their way – you just don’t want to meet them when they’re working.

You might not want to meet me, either. Or then again, you really might. A few years back someone started the story that calling me would solve a lot of problems, help everyone to understand each other, bring the evil types to justice and arrange a happy ending. Well yeah, it’s true – in a way, for a given value of truth.

The Vengeance Girls give you what someone else believes that you deserve, but my magic shows people to themselves. I’ve heard that can be tough to take, even before you find that you're singing all your deepest secrets and starting to give yourself what you think you deserve.

Humans can find it difficult to do themselves justice – but then, that’s show business.

Muse; “Sweet” the singing demon.
Fandom; BTVS
Words; 225

218 Write about a lie your parents told you.

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 00:00:46 GMT

People don’t lie, not around me. If they do they’ll find that they’re singing the truth quick enough. Of course, I didn’t have that talent when I was really young, but I come from a powerful family. Telepaths and empaths, song healers and virloparths, all liable to pick up the whisper of a lie. There wouldn’t be much point in getting fanciful with characters like that around.

A child who invented some story to go out adventuring would be caught before the wards were down.

I knew the story that babies float down a river in a hidden egg and the parents who want them just pick them out was nonsense long before I knew the truth. That wasn’t what I wanted to go looking for anyway. Some adults had that tinge of amusement that meant they were telling a truth that has vibes like a lie when they talked about the river-babies … and baby water dragons ought to come that way. I wanted a silver one.

That doesn’t mean that everything you hear where I come from is true, even if it’s your parents telling you. Anyone can believe something, even believe it with all their heart, and anyone can be wrong. Anyone can want to believe something – and the worst lies are the ones people tell themselves, always.

You can’t lie to me, not any more. You can tell me an untruth and I might believe it, but only if you truly do believe it yourself.

Muse, “Sweet” the singing demon.
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 234

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 20:08:40 GMT

Not marble, nor the gilded singer
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme.

Which work of Shakespeare was the original quote from?

Gakked from several others

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 22:48:03 GMT

Singing Demon, singing demon! Parting is such sweet sorrow
I'll sing the blues until it be tomorrow.

Which work of Shakespeare was the original quote from?

Theatrical Muse 215, Seduction,

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Sun, 27 Jan 2008 19:19:57 GMT

215 Seduction. Have you ever seduced someone or has someone ever seduced you?

The Seduction.

She’d been married in the winter
When the nights were long and cold
When the army took her husband
For to be a soldier bold,
So she went to bed at nightfall
And she rose each lonely morn,
But fondly she remembered
The nights they’d danced till dawn.

I was wandering on a lonely Gig
And heard her on my way,
The song she sang was true and sweet
But then I could not stay,
I left her to her singing
As I smoked on through the town,
For there never was a Talisman
Hung shining on her gown.

The world was cold and lonelier yet
When I passed back that way,
With all my work there left undone
And the devil still to pay,
But then her warm bed beckoned me
Though common lore I scorn
I left with fonder memories of
The nights we danced till dawn!

Muse; Sweet the Singing Demon,
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 151

OOC

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 19:48:26 GMT

There is difficult internet access. My Mun/typist also has a fractured right elbow and other gloomy injuries - and wasn't even dancing when it happened!

Theatrical Muse 213 - Sorrow

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 02:13:00 GMT

"There's enough sorrow in the world, isn't there, without trying to invent it."

There’s enough sorrow in your world, all right, but I don’t invent it. I don’t even cause it, as a rule. It’s the humans who fill their plates with it – you wouldn’t believe how many ways they have to hurt each other. Some of it’s even accidental. It’s the humans who seem to feel that they can’t get enough of it, too.

They pile on the sorrow all day and then – you know what they do when they finish work? They turn on the TV or they go out to a show, and what do you think they see? Kitchen sink dramas, tragedies and tear-jerkers, weepies. Plays where the heroine commits suicide or her guy takes drugs, abandoned babies, wars and whores and chain saw massacres. That’s just when they sit watching a show.

Now, a lot of them go on this new Internet thing, and what do they do? They write. They invent sorrow, they write “hurt/comfort” and angst, (and the porn, of course. It ain’t all bad.)

I don’t make your sorrows. You do that yourselves, every way that you can, and then you bury it all down deep. My magic just helps it to surface, though I may give you a tune and a rhyme or two to help things along. Once it’s up and singing along with you then you just handle it any way you can - but don’t get too near a microphone. Even if you don’t get a real hot number there are plenty of your own who’ll hand you some amplification, if they hear you singing those blues too sadly.

Muse; Sweet the Singing Demon.
Fandom, BTVS
Words; 265.

TM: 210; crystal ball.

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Wed, 26 Dec 2007 22:38:05 GMT

TM: 210

If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about any one thing you wished -- concerning yourself, your life, the future, or anything else -- what would you want to know?

I guess I've heard a thousand songs
Or maybe I've heard more,
From those who fear the things the future hides,
I might ask if the lore will change
Or if my health will hold,
Or just what I should look for in my brides,

I might ask if the world will live
Or if the race will die,
Or if there’s a way to change
What will be coming bye and bye,

If I could ask to learn a truth
Before I could forget
I’d ask how to avoid
All acts I’d later on regret,

But I’ve heard the hottest numbers
Flaring high, oft and again,
From those who asked the future,
And revealed a world of pain.
.....................................................

No, this question’s not for me. This ain’t a thing I want to sing about. I’ve seen too much. I’ve heard too much.

Most religions and philosophies tell people that there’s always a choice of actions. Sure there is. What they aren’t so keen on saying is that sometimes all the choices are bad. I hear a lot about that.

Maybe I should ask it what kind of computer, operating system, ISP and antivirus would give me a few decades of trouble-free internet? Most computers hate dimensional portals – and they say Microsoft has a mind of its own, but it ain’t one I can read!

Muse; Sweet the singing demon.
Fandom; BTVS
Words; 179

OOC

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Wed, 19 Dec 2007 00:37:45 GMT

They did not turn up to install the broadband. My internet access may end in a few days for an unknown period. I don't know what is going to happen about this.

Theatrical Muse 209, What are you afraid of?

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Sat, 15 Dec 2007 23:10:57 GMT

What do I fear?

I’ve seen the frumious bandersnatch
And used it in a Gig!
(The claws that catch are in its way,
Its feet are far too big.)

I’ve seen the giant of Drannicore,
That drank the Priasan Sea,
They say it still has nightmares,
If it hears a tale of me.

I've heard the dragons harmonize
with notes both loud and long,
and tuned the music of the spheres
to make a sweeter song!

........................

But …

There's a demon that I dread,
a sneaking, stealthy thief,
Who robs us all, and robs again
and never hears the grief.

The other demons dread it too
It's crueler - oh by far,
It steals the gifts that life can bring
and dims the brightest star.

I'd swear that It's a savage brute
It steals a dancer's grace,
Or laughter's joy, or wisdom's mind,
It claws at beauty's face.

It brushes children at their play
And bars the nursery stair,
It whispers those we love away
And leaves a stranger there.

It stills the singer’s finest note,
Taxes each straining breath,
And in the end all pass It’s realm
And all will dance with Death.

Yes, there’s a demon that I fear,
No friend of yours or mine,
It passes, touching, taking all
That prowling sneak-thief, Time.

Muse; “Sweet” the singing demon
Fandom, BTVS
Words; 212

RPG for Trueslayer and Watcher_diaries

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 01:04:20 GMT

It's quite frustrating when the Powers that Be,
decide they want to set the scene for me.
It caused me some annoyance, even pain,
To find they're serving up a bride again.
Of course, I like my plots to twist and turn,
So maybe I'll be wed, or maybe spurn ...
A new experience is worth some time.
P'raps this will be my latest pantomine.

Theatrical Muse, Topic 207- Control

singindemonhq@livejournal.com — Tue, 04 Dec 2007 20:03:54 GMT

Control.

Humans sing about control a lot, one way or the other. I hear them sing about others controlling them and needing to control others. Those can be real hot numbers but some of the best songs come when they want to control themselves. That’s the biggest change that some people can make – sometimes by telling the people who want to control them to get lost!

Any of the other changes they need to make can be easy compared to that, but you’d never know it to hear them sing. I was passing through the UK and there are people sitting at little tea-tables, sucking at cigarettes - out in the street in the cold, cold rain. Thay've banned smoking in public places.

The last singer I heard there would have been pretty, if she hadn’t been so wet. Her voice was already kind of husky, too, sounded sort of broken...

Why did I start smoking?
The taste's not the best,
at school though it helped me,
look right with the rest.
It's cool on the movies,
done by the right type,
(Oh Hell, did I fall for the hype?)

When did I enjoy it?
It once made me sick
My guys always smoked, though,
My first was a pr... *stops to cough for several seconds*
We broke up quite soon, but,
I didn't quit yet,
I just lit my next cigarette.

I cough when I'm dancing,
the gym is no fun.
I never have money,
I gakk from my Mom,
I'm cool though, just look
I'm a real film-star pet,
I just lit my next cigarette.

I go with a loser,
I wish that he'd shave,
I wish he had manners,
I wish that he'd save,
If we never marry,
I won't start to fret,
I'll just light my next cigarette.

OK I'm addicted,
so what do you care?
I pay as much tax
as a smart millionaire,
Don't call me a loser!
So what do you bet?
This could be my last cigarette!

Then some hot ash dropped on her coat. She swiped it off too late, it left a burn on the new red fabric. You could see the rage in her face. For a moment she felt angry enough to throw the pack into the gutter, turn her heel on it and stalk off. There was that second when she might have walked away free, but then she stopped, holding the packet in her hand, looking at it and thinking.

I knew she’d lost when she shook out another cigarette, put the pack back in her bag and snapped the clasp shut. Her song had gone from her mind like a dream in daylight by the time she sat down and lit the thing.

Oh well, another day, another Gig.

Muse; “Sweet” the singing demon.
Fandom. BTVS
Words 444