Render Moonarrow

Render Moonarrow
My Fantasy Character

Moon Arrow

Moon Arrow
Another picture from Rob [OTM]

Ancalagon The Black

Ancalagon The Black
My Dragon

Friday, December 12, 2008

Inimitable Snow

I saw the flying snowflakes falling from above;
Like a heavenly spirit, it filled my heart with love.
Like falling stars, they collapsed towards the earth;
The sight reminded me of happiness and mirth.

Up north long ago in wondrous winters of old,
I remember many snowfalls within the endless cold.
What masterful patterns of glittery enchanting blue;
A wondrous masterpiece of colorful radiance anew.

And now, in my new home, I see some of this enchantment;
To think here it resided in the south; what endless excitement!
How I ponder at how Texans alike find so much love in snow;
Maybe because they see it seldom or maybe it’s a mysterious show.

Yet anyway, here it came on the tenth of December,
And of that day I will always treasure and remember.
Four years ago we saw this once before;
If only, if only we saw yet a little more.

~The Silhouette

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Sporadique - Ch.1 of Many

Sporadique

In this world of rarity, strange, random things happen at strange, random places at strange, random times. Within this world, everything moves to a much slower rate than in our world—like a film that has been slowed to a numbered degree. Also, no sound exists within Sporadique; only strange music the kind of a hypnotic, haunting design. Sometimes the music is nice, yet soon we change our mind. But for too long the music changes our fancy and we continue to look upon the music with delight, yet the pattern never ends and we soon become disgusted by the very same disturbing, yet enchanting music which dances and trips through the confusingly scented air.

A tall man wearing a black top-hat and a tuxedo walked proudly within the eerie swamplands, occupied by many twisting, leafless trees. He held in his right hand a pail of water, and in his left he held the arm of his fair maiden who wore a white gown overwhelmed with truffles and dominated by puffed sleeves. They did not mind that they soiled their formal attire; they simply walked upon the muddy ground, holding large tickets within their gloved hands. They walked slowly with their noses drawn to the sky. The man had a large mustache and the maiden, long flowing blonde hair. A large white hat dominated the maidens golden head. The life surrounding them seemed to be slowed down by an eerie light. The sky was overcast by weak, cloudy turbulences. They sat slowly upon a log like they sat before a large theatre.

Before them emerged two strange characters—one, completely covered by white and the other, completely covered by black. Their attire was like one huge suit with no opening. It covered them from head to toe, and because it was tight, it outlined the very architecture of these two characters; almost like they were a strange fashion of manikin. The white one was female, and the black one male. One could easily tell by the fact that the white one wore a dress and her features very much resembled a woman. They took hands and started to waltz. They danced like professionals in the art of ballet. The two separated and started dancing in solo, leaping and spinning. Vultures landed on the trees above, staring at the dancing before them. After many a spin and many a leap, the two dancers joined once again, and the strangest thing happened; the hands of the black dancer became white while the hands of the white dancer became black. Slowly yet surely, the two completely changed to their opposite colors. As they finished the dance, the man with the black top-hat took the pail of water and blasted the two with the liquids it held. The waters changed into snowflakes as it flew toward the two dancers. The snow brushed against the two dancers, and as it did this, they too became snow and drifted away upon a gust of wind. It started snowing ever since. The man and the maiden then took their shoes and socks off, and started mashing their feet in the cold mud.

Out of a tree emerged a small character—a very short and fat man with a large bald spot. The two looked up from their feet and noted the new mustached character. The dwarf turned his head as if confused, and approached them with sincere authority. He first took the man’s ticket and, waving his hand over it, wrote with a magical force at the left end, the letters “F, and R,” while at the other end, the letters, “D, and O.” The short, fat man took the maiden’s ticket in the same fashion and wrote in at the right end, the letters “T, E, and N.”

The man with the top hat, standing, took a black rose from inside his coat, bowed before the maiden, and handed over his hand. The maiden, grasping the man’s hand, stood and took the rose. Behind the two appeared a trail which they soon turned and followed. The trail was outlined with many smooth stones of gray. The short fat man waved as they walked along the trail. Very soon after, a parade of people from the right started walking over the trail to the left. They all wore red suits with ruffled, long-sleeved white shirts. Some juggled red balls, others did flips and handsprings, some were being hauled by small chariots drawn by geese, and some played drums that didn’t play any sound. The man and the maiden started clapping and laughing, yet no sound was heard within the area; no sound save the eerie music. They saw the crowd of people walking toward a large fissure, belching out magma, yet they didn’t try to stop them from their fate. They watched, almost like they didn’t see the fissure. As the whole parade of people fell into the flaming depths, the man and the maiden proceeded onward.

The trail aligned a large cliff. The two walked along the trail, winding and turning in most unnecessary ways. Within a gorge withstood a huge dam. The two sat on a bench, overlooking the massive work which dominated the gorge. A man, who wore a necklace with a cross, sat on the dam asleep. He himself built this massive dam, and it was he who must care for it. As he slept, not caring for the world he lived in, black liquid leaked through the dam. He looked at the leak and he owned the tools needed to fix it, yet he only went back to sleep, condoning the black liquids flowing through the dam. Slowly, yet surely, the leak grew larger, and larger. The man became nervous and started to work on the broken dam, but to no avail; the dam broke and he became overcome by the black waters.

The two walked onward on the trail aligned with stones of gray, and they soon escaped from the gorge. A new set was to the left of the trail; it was a large wooden floor occupied by furniture and waltzing people. Everyone wore clothes of early Victorian design, yet each and every cloth was red. On a couch sat three people: two wearing red, and one in-between wearing blue. He was writing on a piece of paper. Whenever he finished what he was writing, the letters disappeared. After a good few minutes a message replying to his appeared before his paper. He would giggle at the response, and then he would reply with his own. The two on the couch wearing red were sad that he took more interest in a person whom wasn’t there than the people that were right before him. He was at a party with many, many friends, yet he only wanted to talk to one who wasn’t there through his magic message paper.

Deranged-looking marionettes hung from the trees. They wagged and swung in correspondence to the winds that pushed them. The vultures mistook them for real people and started pecking out the marionettes’ eyes. After passing the party of the red dancers, the two came across another scene. A blue couch stood to the right of the trail. It had a table next to it, holding a large record player. A small baby boy not but 13 months old slept on the couch. An elderly man, by the looks of a school professor, stood there nervously, hoping that the music would keep the child asleep. The old school professor hoped that the child wouldn’t figure out what he was trying to do and destroy the record player. Even though the professor tried not to sweat, the baby still slept and didn’t wake. The man and the maiden thought the boy was quite familiar. The professor came up to the two and gestured toward them to be quite, or else their son would wake. The parents refused to stop the professor; they believed what he was doing was the right thing. In a fast pace, they saw their child grow up. And as he became twenty-years-old, he woke and was accustomed to the strange world he lived in; he thought it was a natural world; that there was nothing wrong with it; so why then should he try to change it if there was no reason to? He was taught to live in a world like this. Why change something that isn’t wrong if, after all, the world you live in doesn’t have any wrong in it?

The two embraced their son and watched as he drifted away. As they walked onward, they came to a lake with freezing waters. People swam in the waters which could kill anyone in the matter of seconds. They seemed to be enjoying themselves; laughing and singing, yet the one thing that was out of place was that very same water they swam within had many drowning and even some dead people. The swimmers would see the drowning people, yet they wouldn’t try to help them out of the water. Slowly, the pale dead floated over the frigid waters. Ravens pecked out the dead people’s flesh. A magpie the size of a fully grown man landed near a swimmer and asked if they were going to help those people, yet they only said that they couldn’t, like something stood in their way. The magpie asked if it was fear that made them not save the drowning people; the fear of changing their minds and dying themselves; the fear that the drowning may attack their beliefs; a nervous fear. The swimmers agreed that that was the problem. The magpie was nervous, like he couldn’t believe what he saw. He went to person by person, yet they acted like he didn’t’ exist. He was in an estranged state, like the world he lived in he didn’t belong. He screamed, telling everyone that the drowning people’s blood will be on the swimmers’ hands if they didn’t save them. The people just smirked and ignored the magpie. He started hyperventilating and died. A legion of rats came from under the earth and started devouring the magpie’s corpse. The short, fat man with the bald spot emerged once again and took the man and maiden’s tickets with greedy fingers, grinning evilly. The man and the maiden came to the waters, looked at each other, and slowly fell into the waters face-flat. The bubbles resided and the two were never again seen among Sporadique. The two believed that they simply stopped existing after they died. They alone didn’t simply stop existing; they, instead, were punished eternally for their decisions. The short fat man, with his magician-like fashion, took the man’s ticket and wrote two “E’s” at the end of the “F, and R,” while at the other end, the letter “M” at the end of the “O,” spelling the word “FREEDOM.” He took the maiden’s ticket and wrote, “F, O, R, G, O, T” at the beginning of, “T, E, N,” Spelling the word “FORGOTTEN.” He took the tickets and switched the hands he held them in, making the phrase “Forgotten Freedom.”

Those that criticize, criticize the future, remain in self denial of their decisions and beliefs—until otherwise changed—and so fear; they fear that which is true. We only need this truth to create self evidence, exist, and grow.

As for understanding this strange tale, that is of your own ability. Each to his own, this story will be deciphered in many ways. I already know how it comes out for me, yet how does it you? Personal Question—answer is not needed and neither should it be for others’ sight.

~The Silhouette

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

My Guest-Book

Salutations from Render Moonarrow!

You might have pressed the link that said Click to sign my guest book.

If you have visited this blog, please feel free to sign your name in.

Just go to the comment bar and put your name there.

~Render Moonarrow~

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Junk... Hope yo enjoy..... Which probably Impossible!

Tis a strange thing when something from a long way has come around and showed their existence.

Why, just yesterday Katie Peterson got married to Mr. Ray Wade.

Now since the Petersons are old friends of ours whom we met almost at the beginning of our life in Texas, so were many other people there at the wedding that we knew whom we haven’t seen in a long, long time.

Some people I didn’t even remember.

Now this gets me thinkin’. There are so many people out there in the world who I know, but I probably won’t be seeing them anytime soon, or I am not to see them ever again.

Weddings started me thinkin’ as well. How many weddings have I been to?

I know I’ve been to many, but I think, maybe, I have lost count. Ten maybe? I no know. Maybe it’s cuz I suffer from NTGAD (Never to give attention disorder) *Sigh*

Oh well. Maybe la gears within me twisted mind will work again and I will no longer be insane…(Impossible)

Ok then.

Back to seriousness….

Now in my life I have met many people and made many, many friends. Some I am still in touch with, some live in different states. Yet still, some, here and there, seem to pop up like a sunrise after a long, cold night.

Some I wish I could get in touch with, but things get in la way.

Well, sorry yo had to see this thought if yo thought it to be worthless. I am known to write better than this, but let’s just say me Third personality is in charge for a while!

HEE HEE!



~The Silhouette

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Wcako rhgit?

fi yuo cna raed tihs, yuo hvae a sgtrane mnid too
Cna yuo raed tihs? Olny 55 plepoe out of 100 can.

i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt!

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Monday, October 27, 2008

Meaning of Names

My name, Ryan Scott Oakley, means:

The Little Scottish King of the Oak Tree Meadow.

What does your name mean?

TAG!

Yo must post about this!

Monday, October 20, 2008

The Silhouette's Riddle #2

A new riddle have I devised. The answer is found before your eyes.

I belong in a large family royal; I have no bottom only two tops to toil.

I face both left and right, this clue must be given for you to be right.

I have a sword in both my hands, both upside-down and right-side-up I stand.

My bottom faces left and my top faces right, I am ready to put up a very large fight.

The clues were few, that I warned you.

Can you answer?

~The Silhouette