Jaxter's Journals

I write random things, nearly every day. My life is one filled with self literature. Different romantic things spew forth from my all seeing mind, which isn't really all seeing might I add. It observes lives and judges based on nature. Sure the thoughts are biased, but no human is perfect. Most of the time, it does not judge at all, rather it takes nuetrality and states facts, or relates it to something. Other times, it's not even studying something.

My mind can make of what it wants... Any how, here are somethings... I guess. Let me post them below. You can comment if you like.

I have a number of dreams of being different things and experiencing different ways of life for a short while. Here's one in the view of an ICE DRAGON... It was a vivid dream, a bit droll, but I wrote it down.


Oh to dream. I've dreamt of many things. Of clouds, of skies, of rising suns, of falling stars. Even my mind has a name for the safest place of perfect bliss for me. I've dreamed of a land called 'The Shroud'. Its fruitfall scenery, and women, fresh and stung into my mind. I've had enough adventures there to know more than my share of memories, or vivid dreams. For some reason I'd like to say, I miss those old dragon like properties from my dreams.


The feel of those scales and talons, crunching in soft soil on high lofts. The highland breeze trickling down onto the plains and spreading like wildfire, rolling over the feilds of golden amber grain. The Ice caps glistening on peaks of towering, craggy mountains. The smell of Holly and Hemlock mixing with the savory flavor of ram. A meal fit for a common dragon. Sadly, he was still alive as he bleated when his bones cracked and broke within my teeth, rupturing a new drink or a savory sauce of red.


I had remembered to frighten the little guy into excreteing onto the ground first before moving to a new location and eating. The crap tastes just as it sounds, a dragon always remembers how to handle his meal. It takes several large swoops and dives over them to finaly get them to release in sight. Careful planning and precision, getting hit by an arrow is costly. I clutched his body between my claws and held it tight, feeling the dripping of blood onto the ground through my talons. As with each bite, I had to breath through the nose on my snout, to avoid freezing the blood and forming an exploded, mal formed goat-sicle.


It was finaly gratifying to have a roosting area of my own. Had my father lived to see me, he would have been proud, if we weren't trying to tear out each other's throats on sight. Dragons tend not to get along in the same space.