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So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.


The Profile


Zanzibar
Age. 33
Gender. Female
Ethnicity. that of my father and his father before him
Location Cherry Hills Vil, CO
School. Other
» More info.
The World









The Link To Zanzibar's Past
This is my page in the beloved art community that my sister got me into:

Samarinda

Extra points for people who know what Samarinda is.
The Phases of the Moon Module
CURRENT MOON
Croc Hunter/Combat Wombat
My hero(s)
Only My Favorite Baseball Player EVER


Aw, Larry Walker, how I loved thee.
The Schedule
M: Science and Exploration
T: Cook a nice dinner
W: PARKOUR!
Th: Parties, movies, dinners
F: Picnics, the Louvre
S: Read books, go for walks, PARKOUR
Su: Philosophy, Religion
The Reading List
This list starts Summer 2006
A Crocodile on the Sandbank
Looking Backwards
Wild Swans
Exodus
1984
Tales of the Alhambra (in progress)
Dark Lord of Derkholm
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
The Lost Years of Merlin
Harry Potter a l'ecole des sorciers (in progress)
Atlas Shrugged (in progress)
Uglies
Pretties
Specials
A Long Way Gone (story of a boy soldier in Sierra Leone- met the author! w00t!)
The Eye of the World: Book One of the Wheel of Time
From Magma to Tephra (in progress)
Lady Chatterley's Lover
Harry Potter 7
The No. 1 Lady's Detective Agency
Introduction to Planetary Volcanism
A Child Called "It"
Pompeii
Is Multi-Culturalism Bad for Women?
Americans in Southeast Asia: Roots of Commitment (in progress)
What's So Great About Christianity?
Aeolian Geomorphology
Aeolian Dust and Dust Deposits
The City of Ember
The People of Sparks
Cube Route
When I was in Cuba, I was a German Shepard
Bound
The Golden Compass
Clan of the Cave Bear
The 9/11 Commission Report (2nd time through, graphic novel format this time, ip)
The Incredible Shrinking Man
Twilight
Eclipse
New Moon
Breaking Dawn
Armageddon's Children
The Elves of Cintra
The Gypsy Morph
Animorphs #23: The Pretender
Animorphs #25: The Extreme
Animorphs #26: The Attack
Crucial Conversations
A Journey to the Center of the Earth
A Great and Terrible Beauty
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian
Dandelion Wine
To Sir, With Love
London Calling
Watership Down
The Invisible
Alice in Wonderland
Through the Looking Glass
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea
The Host
The Hunger Games
Catching Fire
Shadows and Strongholds
The Jungle Book
Beatrice and Virgil
Infidel
Neuromancer
The Help
Flip
Zion Andrews
The Unit
Princess
Quantum Brain
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks
No One Ever Told Us We Were Defeated
Delirium
Memento Nora
Robopocalypse
The Name of the Wind
The Terror
Sister
Tao Te Ching
What Paul Meant
Lao Tzu and Taoism
Libyan Sands
Sand and Sandstones
Lost Christianites: The Battles for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew
The Science of God
Calculating God
Great Contemporaries, by Winston Churchill
City of Bones
Around the World in 80 Days, by Jules Verne
Divergent
Stranger in a Strange Land
The Old Man and the Sea
Flowers for Algernon
Au Bonheur des Ogres
The Martian
The Road to Serfdom
De La Terre ŕ la Lune (ip)
In the Light of What We Know
Devil in the White City
2312
The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August
Red Mars
How to Be a Good Wife
A Mote in God's Eye


want to read: Last Hunger Games Book, Honeybee Democracy, The Bell Jar
The Juanes Module


Juanes just needed his own mod. Who can disagree.
Sunday. 5.22.05 9:31 pm
He had been lying in the shadow of the cavern all day, watching Chalco and his friends as they flew in and out over the water. They were playing a game centered around an old cormorant, but the bird was sluggish and their repeated passes had made it frightened and confused- it flew in erratic circles and its feathers were coming out in crazy bursts. Dakar's large eyes, like deep black mirrors, followed the unfortunate bird. His head lay cradled between his forearms and his ears were fanned just enough to catch hints of the brilliant blue sea crashing on the cliff-side so many hundreds of feet below. His stomach was sick with pity. Chalco had been sitting on a precipice at the edge of the cavern for some time, his forearms crossed in contemplation, the sunlight glittering off of his brilliant purple-gold scales, casting a thousand dancing lights backwards into the cave. The sunlight suited Chalco perfectly. He looked like the sparkling idols of old that decorated the ancient temples in the city-center. Dakar preferred the darkness. It protected him, it wrapped its cool, stretchy arms around him and made everyone else let him alone.
"Oh, leave that tired old bird already" called Chalco lazily from his perch. His eyes sparkled. "It's time for Dakar's training."
Dakar's head snapped up and a cold chill ran through his body. The circling dragons murmured with excitement and came to roost on the cave's edge. The lone cormorant fluttered vainly towards the cliff's summit, dropped ten feet, paused, and then plummeted haphazardly the thousand feet into the sea. Chalco easily leaped the twenty feet from the precipice to the cavern. He surveyed his friends' faces.
"So far we have been testing Dakar's courage and fortitude, trying to turn him from a weak little iguana into one of us. We have trained him to endure great pain without so much as a grimace. Now is the time for his final test.”
The final test. Its formal name was the Snake’s Terror, but Chalco probably invented the name that very day, standing there in the bright sunlight, the sweet-smelling sea breeze buffeting his smiling whiskers, commanding the rapt attention of his friends with a slow soft stream of suggestions.
Within a few minutes Dakar had been prepared. His wings were lashed to his body with a series of carefully tied knots. His arms and legs were tied to each other. Without his limbs, he had the same abilities of a snake, the others agreed. He had use of neck and tail, but they muzzled his snout so he could not speak or cry out for help. They meant to push him off the Cormorant’s Wharf, whose tiered peak was just high enough to break his legs if he tried to land on them while they were tied. If he panicked, they would let him fall. If he showed good resolve, they would save him. Things did not go as planned. Before they started down, there was an argument; Dakar could never remember how it started. Arseno, a pugnacious black angular dragon wanted to cast the little green dragon from the mouth of the cavern. The Cormorant’s Wharf was hardly sufficient for a final test, some of the others agreed. Chalco became very angry. Dakar could not speak. One eye was pressed into the sandy rock and the other saw only shadows and sky. The cliff edge came closer. There was a scuffle. He felt a hard shove and then there was only empty space. The air rushed past him. He was falling, still falling. His wings tried to open on instinct but their bonds held fast. Panic seized his stomach. Around him there was still only empty space.
The fall to the water should have killed him. Instead he crashed into the top of the Cormorant’s Wharf, the top of his intended platform dive. The wood splintered. The highest platform gave way. He struck the next, and the next, and the rotting wood came with him with deafening crunches. At last he bounced free of the scaffolding, free-falling the remaining distance straight into the sea. It hit him like a rock wall, knocking the breath from his lungs. As soon as the water managed to get out of the way, it came coursing back. He could not move his arms. The ropes cut into his wings. His breathing was quick and short. He could not breathe. The water was rising. The salt burned his eyes and nostrils. There was broken wood everywhere.
Suddenly there were claws on his skin. They pulled, lifted him out of the burning, sucking water and onto dry land.
Dakar could not fly again for more than six months. His father never asked what happened. He did not want to know. He never visited Dakar in the infirmary, and when Dakar was finally back on his feet, his look of utter shame at the sight of his son’s limping figure was enough to discourage the young dragon from ever approaching his father again. He never told him that it was Chalco, his most beloved son, who had orchestrated the entire fiasco. He never told him that it was Chalco who caused the bruising and the swelling that often ruined his chances on Race Day. And Dakar never knew that it was Chalco whose shove had finally pushed him over the edge that day.

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oh, quizzes
Monday. 5.16.05 6:31 pm
Love
You need love.
You are a pretty normal, well-rounded person
that just craves that fairy tale love where you
will be swept off your feet and live happily
ever after. Chances are that you fantasize or
dream about it so much that you either see all
the guys/girls as unromantic or you tell
yourself that anyone could be your soulmate.
You long to have someone by your side and you
want to give back on the romance part too, not
just give.

What Do You Need in Your Life? [dark pics]
brought to you by Quizilla

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back at the ol' warehouse
Tuesday. 1.11.05 1:55 pm
sugarbear: You see, all the tires went out the door, where they became rubber trees. then we cut down the rubber trees and made paper out of them!

she-who-must-not-be-named: on a scale of importance from 1 to 10, that's like a .005 for me.

I like the mist. It has settled over Denver and the eastern plains, no doubt to hide us from the coming storm. The storm will not see us, think that we are not there, and then pass us right over. california was not so lucky. Oh, Denver, how I love thee. Sunday I could have just sat outside forever.

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Sunday. 1.9.05 12:17 pm


Your Icecream Flavour is...Neopolitan!
You aren't satisfied with just one flavor. They say variety is the spice of life and this shines through in your Ice cream of choice! Just don't eat all the chocolate and leave the strawberry and vanilla behind!
What is your Icecream Flavour?

Find out at Go Quiz


Zanzibar Highway
Lake Love9
Bewilderment Avenue21
Tower of Commitment33
Bog of Eternal Marriage105
Family Farm279
Please Drive Carefully
Username:

Where are you on the highway of life?

From Go-Quiz.com






Your perfect significant other.
Name
DOB
Favourite Color
Name: Johnny
Sense of fashion: Popped collar abercrombie shirt, jeans, nice shoes.
Hair style/color: Shaggy, black, well maintained, his hair is part of his great appearance.
Music taste: Hard rock and heavy metal! He's your little metal head.
Where you can find him on a Saturday morning: At a coffee shop you've never been to before, reading a novel, and listening to classical music, like Mozart.
The cutest thing he's ever done for you: Spent the day with you, holding your shopping bags instead of skateboarding.
This Quiz by ____a_fire_inside - Taken 3432 Times.
New - Kwiz.Biz Astrology and Horoscopes



The University of Blogging

Presents to
Zanzibar

An Honorary
Bachelor of
Boredom

Majoring in
Quiz Addiction
Signed
Dr. GoQuiz.com
®

Username:


Blogging Degree
From Go-Quiz.com

You're Perfect ^^
-Perfect- You're the perfect girlfriend. Which
means you're rare or that you cheated :P You're
the kind of chick that can hang out with your
boyfriend's friends and be silly. You don't
care about presents or about going to fancy
placed. Hell, just hang out. You're just happy
being around your boyfriend.


What Kind of Girlfriend Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

innocent kiss
innocent kiss - you're cute and sweet and like it
that way


What Sign of Affection Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

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Tuesday. 1.4.05 1:16 pm

Which HP Kid Are You?


HASH(0x8b0f178)
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster.


Harry Potter Quiz: Which Hogwarts Professor Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

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I hate the dentist
Friday. 12.31.04 12:43 am

At first there is the practicing bit before tuning. It's a bit painful to listen to and poorly organized, oops, a slip here, oh my, I thought your lip was going to split so I rubbed vaseline all over your face. Uncomfortable, no order in the madness. Then there is the tuning, and the instruments buzz in your ears and everything smells like cinnamon or spearmint and they ask you if that flavor is ok even though they're already putting it on and you don't really have a choice. If the orchestra tunes to A, then goddammit, you better not have been expecting a B flat. Then it begins, there are moments of terror, woe, pain and curiosity. Sometimes it gets so quiet and monotonous that you almost fall asleep... then WHAM! great excitement! Hundreds of instruments, all at work at the same time! buzzing and whirring and singing and crunching and making your tongue go dry and numb with pure shots of soul anesthesia that hurt so much in order to take away the pain away in wrenching catharsis. The cold bursts of the larger, bass vacuum sends chills throughout your body. Finally, the crescendo. All emotions come to a peak! You jerk pitifully in your chair as the instruments strike a nerve! The concert-master pauses, revamps his bow, and then strikes one more chilling note, as his hand trembles in fervent vibrato against your wobbling cheek. Just a pinch. It will be over soon.

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