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CANON: marnie
HEIGHT: 5'9''
QUOTE: remember i said last night, that you're my precious secret?
AGE: 29
ALIAS: loor
MOVIE: when marnie was there
CANON GIF: http://i.giphy.com/fN6Pw8GFfrVvy.gif
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THEME MUSIC: http://wokeupwaytoolate.com/filedump/Ben%20Folds%20Five%20Bootlegs/MP3/1997-06-19%20Sessions%20at%20West%2054th%20mp3s/Ben%20Folds%20Five%20-%2010%20-%20Emaline.mp3
LYRICS: i wish it was last september
so we could lose ourselves in crowds everyday.
cause emaline, don't walk in time,
she's not the same that's all you can say.

that we've learnt our lesson, but i,
don't wanna walk away from emaline.
PROFILE GIF: https://media1.giphy.com/media/UcL40NdnmVOIo/200.gif
SEXUALITY: ladies mostly
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Joined: 2-January 16
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: 41 minutes ago
Local Time: Jun 27 2017, 10:44 AM
93 posts (0.2 per day)
( 0.38% of total forum posts )
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emaline marais irving


My Content
Feb 15 2017, 01:53 PM

really tho guys can i get some help with that question bc who is she
....who is she

ok i'll stop trying to do a twist on an A+ meme.

i'm sure a lot of u are like ??? who is she actually tho bc when is she ever here and when does she ever post lol

i know. i'm garbage and it's just a fact. every time i open the site i immediately feel exhausted. my energy hasn't really been up to standard since before the beginning of 2017. i am bombarded by news headlines every day that make my nervous system scream 'the end is nigh why don't u learn some /actual/ survival skills instead of just watching TWD'. it's depressing and makes me feel guilty and awful. my life is in shambles work-wise too, as my immediate boss is leaving at the end of the month. i'll basically be holding down the office on my own until a replacement is found. and i'm also trying to relearn all of high school math by april 8, because i'm taking the GRE. hahaaaaaa. fuck you, higher education.

so i've got a big standardized test looming (but it's not 100% bad because i'm getting excited about applying to programs!!!), my work schedule/situation is bananas, i'm constantly drained, and i also learned of some abnormal medical results recently. don't worry, i'm going to be okay, but it amplifies all the crap that i've been churning through.

oh yeah, and my "boyfriend" was cheating on me and the discovery of that wasn't as heartbreaking as it was disturbing (bc 'trusting my sense of judgment' things). but it's also something i'm processing. so combining everything into this big pot of Loor's Brain® makes for a demotivated, slow-moving, uncommunicative presentation. sorry bout that. sorry for being very anti-social and slow. EDS is one of those things that slips off the proverbial plate when it's close to full.

it's not all doom and gloom: my friend is coming to visit this weekend and i'm... working towards something. thinking about writing a novel (lol ok calm down bitch). and i'm not as terrorized by the cauldron of mysterious goop that is 'modern america in your 20s'. SO there's a silver lining. i've just gotta focus on keeping it there. hopefully my engagement will pick back up in april, when i've taken the test and i have a better idea of what's going on with my life.

THANX ALL. /sends u kisses

Nov 11 2016, 09:50 AM
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<a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=4893"><div class="monster"></div></a><p>

<i>[Is that... The real Elvis?]</i><p>
October brought anxiety. In the store fronts, in the minds of children, and on the TV screens, ghostly images abounded. Society collectively delved into the darker reaches of their imaginations, spooking one another with eerie tales of the unexplained. Monsters under the bed. Shadows crawling out of dark alleys. Mysterious winds blowing through creaking tree limbs. The first time she experienced Halloween in the health ward, Emaline went into a comatose state for a week. She saw costumes outside her window. Half of them were regular people in the midst of revelry, yet there were spectres drifting in the empty spaces. Incapable of discerning the real from the mystic, the woman assumed she had lost all touch with the living world. Panic had her pounding at the walls and clawing at her skin until it was swollen and bruised. <p>

Following a capacious desensitization process, Marnie managed her second year with coping mechanisms. It wasn't until year four that she was able to leave her apartment on October thirty-first. The entire month was a preparation for the fateful eve. Despite her fretful nerves and poor courage, the medium had grown tired. Constant anxiety depleted her ability to execute basic functions. Emaline was impatient. She didn't wish to spend the remainder of her second life cordoned in a locked room for one month out of twelve. <p>

Doctor Kormani always said that fears can be conquered with a tiny drop of courage. Emaline hated the advice at the time, but (as with much of the tactics she learned in treatment) it carried truth. <i>Do the opposite of what you feel.</i> She could hear his level tone in her mind as she meandered down the street, passing all manner of vendors. The city held a variety of Halloween fairs and events throughout the month. Union Square had morphed into a festival of autumn-themed food, drink, and entertainment. Marnie took another bite of her sticky caramel apple, licking her lips as the sugar melted on her tongue. So far the evening was alright. She smiled at children playing a game involving smashing pumpkins against a bullseye. <p>

Pausing by a kettle corn stand, Emaline finished the last few nibbles of her treat and tossed it into a garbage can. Licking her fingers childishly, a flash of reflected light caught her eye. In the middle of the path, a white-suited Elvis danced alone to the peppy music floating across the loudspeakers. Intrigued, she smiled as he gyrated his hips - it was a near perfect recreation. He twisted around to face her. Marnie's heartbeat picked up. He looked identical to the King himself. She sucked in air, gaping. Could it really be? Impulsive nature taking over, she clomped over to the figure. <b>"Elvis Presley?!"</b> She almost shrieked. A few passerby glanced at her momentarily, their faces contorting in confusion. Emaline was oblivious. <b>"I love your music, I grew up with your voice on the radio,"</b> she blurted quickly. For some reason, he was hardly looking at her. Her eyebrows furrowed. <b>"You know..."</b><p>

Marnie cleared her throat and began to sing to the identical imposter before her. <i><b>"We can't go on together with suspicious minds..."</b></i> He still seemed to be staring through her. Suddenly doubtful of his presence, Emaline started to wring her hands together, her singing trailing off. <i><b>"....and we can't build our dreams on suspicious minds</i>...Hello?"</b> He smirked and walked towards her, his face inching closer and closer to hers. Just when her breath hitched in her chest (was he trying to kiss her?) his face faded into fog. A pressure rushed through her skin and Emaline gasped. She whirled around. Elvis was walking away behind her. Did he walk... <i>through</i> her? Marnie's bottom lip quivered. Just as she was about to run headfirst after the strange vision, he turned back to her and gave the classic Elvis Presley wave. Speechless, she watched, stunned, as the figure faded away into the crowd. The blonde stood, dumbstruck and still in the midst of the crowd.

<center>emilia catrina la amada • 671 • <a href="http://www.polyvore.com/suspicious_minds/set?id=210963895">outfit</a></center>
Sep 25 2016, 10:50 AM
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Morning cut through the gap in her curtains, sharp and warm. Dust danced in the sliver of sunlight, shifting closer to the woman's pillow as the minutes crept by. Upon waking she felt disconcerted; she was immediately struck with the feeling that something was not right. Face contorting at reality's abrupt descent, she groaned and rolled over. The old-fashioned alarm clock by her bed read seven thirty on the dot. The alarm wouldn't ring for five more minutes. It was hardly a prospect for which she'd lie patiently waiting. With a dramatic sigh, she let her arms flop over the covers. Absently she played with the blanched light striping her comforter. A hushed sentence whispered sharply in the cavern of her ear. Spine tingling, she shot up out of bed. Marnie couldn't help a pitiful whine as she hurried to the bathroom. <i>Remember your routine, remember to use breathing tricks.</i><p>

An hour later, the woman unlocked and opened the new-age shop in Haight-Ashbury. For that particular Tuesday, her boss had selected an instrumental CD with wind chime effects. Though the themed white noise made some customers snicker, Emaline enjoyed the lack of lyrics. It was easier to tune out and much better for her moments of serious meditation. The sick sensation still lingered in her gut. Today would be difficult. Slinging her tattered bag behind the counter, the blonde hummed a commercial jingle as she examined the note posed on the glass surface. <i>'Em - shipment of books and incense in the closet. See you in a bit.'</i> Thank goodness there was a task waiting. The owner was never far from her place of business, yet Marnie's store clerk position could become monotonous when the medium was flying solo. Having product to stock would keep her scrambled brain on track.<p>

Throwing her mane into a sloppy up-do, Emaline walked into the small storage closet behind the register. The cardboard boxes were still unopened, secured tightly with shiny packing tape and address labels. She lifted the first and heaved it out to the petite library section. With a moment's pause, Marnie moved to the heavy wooden entrance and swung it open. Autumn breeze filtered into the incense-flavored air as she secured the opening with a doorjamb. Breathing deep the fresh air, Emaline lit a few cones of sandalwood and rubbed her lapis rings for protection and focus. Perhaps the dreadful anticipation she felt was nothing more than paranoia. It'd happened before. Her mind was not as easy to dissect as the psychiatrists and doctors believed, but there was some manner of truth to their diagnoses of psychosis. Mingling with the supernatural visions and whispers, a hyperactive fight-or-flight response dwelled at the ready. Some days she was scared to exist. Despite little evidence to support her conclusion, she knew an impending force was lingering at her back. <p>

<i><b>"Well I go to the river to soothe my mind,
to ponder over the crazy days of my life
just sit and watch the river flow..."</b></i><p>

Marnie loved to sing, and her voice was not half-bad. Anticipating a whistle from the teapot, she kept her conscious occupied with music. Wind chimes tingled against the doorframe. <i>A customer? Something wicked this way comes?</i> She swallowed and pushed the box of new literature flush against the bookcase. Putting on a shy smile of hesitant welcome, her pale face poked around the corner. <b>"Good morning,"</b> she called softly. <b>"Please let me know if you'd like help finding anything."</b> The offer was delicate, unobtrusive. In a state of fretfulness, Emaline was not in the mood to play the aggressive salesperson. She left the offer on the table and tucked back out of sight, examining the contents of her cardboard assignment.

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Jun 22 2016, 08:42 AM
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<div class="bgl">age of aquarius <sub>when the moon is in the seventh house</sub></div> <div class="bgw"><div class="bgw2">

Peace was a relative term. The subjective experience of mellow, meditative happiness came in various forms for different individuals. A minuscule pocket of the worlds' population practiced the presence of peace daily. Tibetan monks, Buddhists in China, the odd solitary mountain man. Some dedicated their entire existence to the search for inner peace. Most did not. The average person sought peace where attainable, but it was impossible to feel it constantly in a modern world. Schedules wanted keeping, tasks demanded attention, and sound, sound, great loud sounds rumbled over everything else: cars, dogs, cell phones, speakers, construction. It went on and on in a cacophony without refrain. This was still a crutch for Emaline Irving. Before leaving the shop or her tiny shared apartment, she took a moment to breathe, to feel the flow of air in and out of her working lungs. She reminded herself to stay present, to block out the background, to stay alert yet relaxed. Citizens of San Francisco did it all the time without pause. Emaline was no regular citizen. <p>

After the third time the cops escorted her home, her roommates began keeping better tabs on her. They checked her face (more importantly, those expressive blue eyes) and asked her specific questions. If no one was home to keep tabs on her movements, Marnie read aloud from post-it notes stuck by the door. Little encouragements of awareness and reality. <i>You can't afford to have any more public episodes, Em.</i> In spite of her Jekyll and Hyde reputation, the SFPD rather liked Emaline. Always one to remember names and faces, she stopped and conversed with them frequently. Once she'd made them all personalized herbal mixtures based on which ailments Marnie presumed the officers possessed. More than a few had snickered and tossed the leafy satchels in the trash, but all of the good cops recognized and appreciated her unique wackiness. Yet the unpredictable woman knew she was out of chances. <i>One more public disturbance and I can't vouch for you, Ms. Irving. You'll go back to the hospital.</i><p>

It was never <i>her</i> fault! Emaline hated thinking of those times she'd lost control, running and screaming through the streets, pushing people out of her way and breaking bicycles (hey, that only happened once). Red hot embarrassment crept up her neck whenever she was reminded of the, <i>ehem</i>, past incidents. Sometimes, she really was overloaded. Marnie was not accustomed to crowded streets and a lot of commotion. When she couldn't find her peace, her scattered mind buckled. Never had she subscribed to all the complex mental health mumbo jumbo that her psychiatrist patiently and painstakingly attempted to provide. None of her little tricks had worked anyway. Besides, after a little searching Emaline had found her new peace. <p>

Ocean Beach stretched the western length of San Francisco's coast, the direct line where the Pacific Ocean ended and the sandy earth began. Tourists didn't visit as much due to the rough current and the frigid temperatures; the long shore was mostly a destination for surfers, dog-walkers, and dedicated runners. In other words: it was quiet. Well, truthfully it was a roar. But the other sounds died on the breeze beneath the crashing waves. Marnie came for the salt and stayed for the silence, her own priceless blend of white noise characterized by sea birds, crunching sand, and churning water. In that coastal city full of larger-than-life possibilities, Emaline's favorite aspect was a little piece of the beach. It was her spot to be calm, to remember what it was to be calm. And oh, if it didn't work wonders. <p>

Rounding the northern corner, the blue expanse spread out before her line of sight and the blonde let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Crossing the sleepy side-street, she quickened her pace. Finally reaching the crest of the wall, the beach unfolded before her. The air was thicker with brine as the ocean mist mingled with the wind, the birds calling in high shrill notes to one another above the low rumble of the tide. Giggling slightly, she discarded her sandals and continued up the path barefoot. Her legs were sure and strong in the sinking sand, the curls on her head exchanging kisses as they whipped to and fro. Emaline felt her chest lighten, the quivering in her temple dissipating. Rounding to the left she walked away from the entrance, putting more distance between herself and the pavement. Not ten minutes later she discovered an agreeable spot near the edge of the beachgrass. Plopping down in the tan sand, she sat with her legs akimbo. Her face did not leave the water. Another deep breath of release: in, out. Here she felt that maybe, just for a little while, she could pretend she was home.

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<a href="http://www.polyvore.com/emaline_beach/set?id=188843281">outfit here</a>, join my bb?

</marquee></div> <div class="bgn2">© lauz</div></div></div></center>[/dohtml]
Apr 29 2016, 12:56 PM
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<div style="background: #b299ac; color: #fff; font: 8px/7px 'bitter'; font-style: italic; letter-spacing: 0px; padding: 5px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase;"> let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic </div>
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Twirling around with a flourish of velvet plum robes, the curly professor beamed enthusiastically at the assembly of disinterested students. The room was warm, thick with the scents of incense and tea varietals. Besides the low murmurs of chitchat and motion, the clicking of the self-writing chalk behind her provided the background to her lecture. The seer was in fine form, her energy up and abounding as she passed the cloth-covered tables in the arena, watching the students as they studied the crystal balls in the center. Some took more diligent notes than others, though divination was much more of an intuitive magic.She nodded and walked on as the small groups worked together to try their hand at the vague impressions. <p>

<b>"Don't worry if it doesn't happen right away."</b> Her voice broke through the hushed concentration. <b>"The trick is all in your mind's eye,"</b> she said, tapping at a temple with her heavily-ringed hand. Her blue eyes were wide and intent as her sight passed over the young faces in black robes. Elective courses had a different dynamic than the required core. Students at that stage were much more comfortable at Hogwarts and had usually developed a regular routine. Professor Irving preferred the elder students. They were vessels of untapped potential and it gave her immense pride to watch a new adept uncover their foretelling abilities. Yet they were also more than mere novices; their magic had a few years to solidify. She needn't bother with the basics. These were the witches and wizards who stood on the cusp of adulthood while devouring the dregs of further knowledge. How lucky they were to have the whole world at their feet! Learning was a thrill, almost as breathtaking as magic itself.<p>

She mounted the stairs to check on the rowdier teenagers in the upper levels. They stopped their tomfoolery and averted her eyes as she passed, fully aware of their antics but not willing to chastise them. Stopping in her boots at the middle table, she tapped a Gryffindor's shoulder. <b>"Bruce, you may want to pay closer attention to what the beyond has to show,"</b> she cautioned in a friendly tone. Narrowing her perceptive stare slightly, she scrutinized his bored expression. <b>"Though accidents happen, I suppose..."</b> She trailed off with a shrug, smirking mischievously after she turned around. Their chairs scooted closer to the cloudy orb. A false prophecy never hurt to encourage participation. Taking another breath to address the class once more, the chalk plopped down in its place with a sharp clunk. Her charm had expired on time as it always did; the young teacher couldn't be trusted to check the clock. <b>"Alright, that's enough for today."</b> Before the sentence was finished, the room had filled with the sounds of books and feet scurrying to get out of the tower classroom. <p>

<b>"Don't forget your reading assignments! Chapter ten for next week, and review your astrology charts."</b> The first students began crossing down the hallway to the door. She picked up an old tome as she stood over her desk, scrutinizing the course schedule as she had countless times before. The commotion died down as the classroom emptied, the spacey seer left alone with her thoughts.


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