Lady Luna Selene Age: Old Enough Location: Neither In Your Arms, Nor Your Pants Can Be Found Roaming New York City Orientation: Equal Opportunist Occupation: Schoolgirl and Serpentine Charmer
My dance is a sacred poem in which each movement is a word and whose every word is underlined by music. The temple in which I dance can be vague or faithfully reproduced, as here today, for I am the temple. All true temple dances are religious in nature and all explain, in gestures and poses, the rules of the sacred texts. One must always translate the three stages which correspond to the divine attributes of Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva- creation, fecundity, destruction... By means of destruction toward creation through incarnation, that is what I am dancing. That is what my dance is about. -Mata Hari
I'm Luna Selene, and sometimes I belly dance to :Wumpscut:.
Welcome to my tea party.
I'm a rampant well of words and feelings. The waters have been known to poison in larger doses.
I find the whole world a travesty.
You'll find me in the dictionary under anachronistic. The term has been beaten to hell by now, but it's true. My blood runs thick with the past.
If I have any blood, that is. I'm sure at this point that it's all turned to ink, and like a story, I've somewhere I've started and somewhere I'll end, and I won't ever be written in stone until I find where my ending will be.
Even then, I'll just be the same words repeating.
I won't spend any longer talking about myself. What I have to say about myself doesn't matter. I'll always and only be whatever you make me out to be.
Le Ciel a Souri
"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?"
Luna Appreciates: Who knows? Not even I do.
Belly Dance Winter Dolls Music Boxes Big Cities Peacocks Cats Snow Cafés Obscene Amounts of Caffeine Cabaret Vaudeville Windy Days Abandoned Asylums and Factories Old Cathedrals, Cemeteries, and Other Religious Statuary The Sound of Church Bells Being Able to Sleep Language History Alphonse Mucha Traveling Striped Things Children The Victorian Era, the Early 1900s and Everything They Had to Offer Black and White Movies
مالت الاغصان
If you drink much from a bottle marked "poison" it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.
What Makes Her Unhappy: Conceit. High and Mighty Dancers. Rudeness/Bad Manners, Especially in Public. Bad Grammar. The Sound of Rap, R&B, and Cyndi Lauper. Improper Typing/Spelling. Whining. Mundane Routine. Gloomy Bear and Hello Kitty. Green Tea. Sundays. Smilies With Noses ---> :-( Love Stories. Politics. Body Hair. The Twilight Series, and, Well, the Whole Vampire Fad. Bad Makeup. Bad Body Modifications. Tattoos for the Sake of Tattoos. Uptown Manhattan. Anarchy. Heat. Ridiculous Trends. Being Photographed. $5 Psychic/Fortune Teller/Spiritual Advisors. Cult Invites. The Overuse of the Number 666.
La Pluie est Tombée
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad." "How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice. "You must be" said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."
Music: The Agonist Amanda Palmer Anders Manga Angels on Acid Angelspit Apocalyptica Asrai Ayria Azam Ali The Birthday Massacre Black Tape For A Blue Girl Beats Antique C/A/T Claire Voyant Dark Sanctuary Djinn The Dreamside The Dresden Dolls Edith Piaf Emilie Autumn Eths Evanescence Forever Slave The Gathering A Hawk and a Hacksaw The HorrorPops In This Moment It Dies Today I:Scintilla Kittie Lacuna Coil Made Out Of Babies Mankind is Obsolete Mirabilis Nachtmahr Nancy Ajram Natacha Atlas Nox Arcana Otep Pentaphobe A Perfect Circle Psy'Aviah QueenAdreena Rasputina Raquy and the Cavemen Shiva in Exile The Sins of Thy Beloved Siouxsie And The Banshees Snake River Conspiracy Solace Sunshine Blind Tapping the Vein Technoir Theatre of Tragedy Tool Tristania Unto Ashes Vicious Alliance Where Angels Fall :Wumpscut: Zombie Girl and of course, a sprinkling of classical.
النجوم والقمر
"I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir" said Alice, "because I'm not myself, you see"
Random Musings You'd Never Really Care To Know. I Call Them Secrets.
I am an absolute, complete contradiction to myself.
The Christian religion, in general, makes me angry.
I will bite someone over the God card.
I don't believe in stereotypical gender roles.
Sex is not my enemy.
If there is such a thing as number dyslexic, I am it.
I play with strays and talk to strangers.
I like rainy days. I loathe sunny ones. Not because I'm a "vampire," but because I'm pale.
I'd marry Alissa White-Gluz if I could.
I do not consider myself to be special in any way, shape, or form.
I read a lot. On paper. I don't believe books were meant to be screens, too.
I am painfully easy to please.
I love New York City more than any other city in the world. I couldn't dream of living anywhere else or ever too far away. It's the only place in the world where the subways are cleaner than your bath water, where the squirrels think they are people, too, and where no one gives you a second glance if you're a man in a dress.
I believe that Sunday is the absolute worst day of the week and I hate it awfully. Everything dies and goes boring on Sundays, and the day itself is a gloomy herald that Monday will come in the morning and the cycle will start itself all over again.
Ont Coulé dans Mes Veines
Alice soon came to the conclusion that it was a very difficult game indeed.
That's all I can think of saying. Thank you for visiting my page, and congratulations on making it through. You've reached the secret page; I've gotten so many messages about people not being able to find the navigation box. If you found it, dear friend, I feel honored, even if it is labeled. Do feel free to message or comment, I promise to get back to you provided it's more than a creepy, two word advance. I only bite when provoked.
