marquis_delint - User Profile

Name:	Mako
Birthdate:	1982-11-05
Location:	Windsor, Canada

By

marquis_delint

title or description

By CuteLucca at www.cutelucca.com

Be careful when viewing the contents of this journal. They are fragile.

The contents include:

crazy rants and opinionated fluff'n'stuff

crazy, opinionated reviews of movies, video games, books, etc.

crap on my User Info page

stupidity?

memes

smut?

gameblogging

general boring stuff you can find in almost any other journal!

Mondays are Da Bulla days and Fridays are Melancholy Bard days. (Meaning, a pic of Benicio del Toro every Monday and a poem, or excerpt, of Leonard Cohen's every Friday.) And, now, this blog has WTF Wednesdays. The meat of those posts will just be a random picture, or maybe even a random YouTube clip. Won't necessarily be wtf-y, and could possibly be NSFW. I haven't decided if I'll cut those or not. ;p

Passion

FF 4

FF 5

FF 6

FF 7

FF 8

FF 9

FF 9 (Vivi)

F 10

FF XII

My other journals/communities:

genjuutina - my *mostly-private* writing-journal

valigarmanda - my gameblog journal

magitektina - my ??? journal (I just wanted to take the name before anyone else)

linkslinkslinks - my *open* links journal

Things That Hatched and Will Eat Your Face

This egg hatches on February 7, 2006! Adopt one today!

This egg hatches on 03/01/06! Adopt one today!

This egg hatches on 04/05/06! Adopt one today!

FANLISTINGS AHOY!

BDT

And here's the link to the rest of the fanlistings I've joined.

Silent Hill Fan

. . . in my restless dreams, I see that town . . .

Quotes and Poetry

Pop, pop! Fizz, fizz!
Oh, what a relief it is!

"The world looks mighty good to me
'cause tootsie rolls are all I see!
Whatever it is I think I see
Becomes a tootsie roll to me.
Tootsie roll has a lotta chocolate to chew,
Tootsie roll I think I'm in love with you.
Whatever it is I think I see
Becomes a tootsie roll to me."

"I swing between happiness and misery and I cry easily. I am a mixture of my mother's determination and my father's optimism. I am part prude and part non-conformist and I say what I think and don't dissemble."

"And of a sudden he knew that when one woman gives herself to you, you
possess all women. Women of every age and race and kind, and more than that,
the moon, the stars, all miracles and legends are yours. Brown-skinned girls who
inflame your senses with their play, cool yellow-haired women who entice and
escape you, gentle ones who serve you, slender ones who torment you, the
mothers who bore and suckled you; all women whom God created out of the
teeming fullness of the earth, are yours in the love of one woman."
~Rembrandt, Rembrandt (1936)

John Huston on remakes: "There is a wilful lemming-like persistance in remaking past
successes time after time. They can't make them as good as they are in our memories,
but they go on doing them and each time it's a disaster. Why don't we remake some of
our bad pictures - I'd love another shot at 'Roots of Heaven' - and make them good?"

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
~T.S Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

"You'll kill people. Everyone does. I've done my share. So when you go, "that's my
death, I caused that," you can either go lie on a couch with your shrink with a
mountain of guilt and angst and get some Prozac prescribed to you...or you can suck it
up and learn from your mistakes and never do that again."

"Heav'n has no Rage, like Love to Hatred turn'd,
Nor Hell a Fury, like a Woman scorn'd."
~William Congreve

Do not give dogs what is sacred. Do not throw your pearl to the pigs,
for they may trample it under their feet, and then turn and tear you to pieces.

Loves

Tina Branford is Love
Made by

marquis_delint

By

luke_delacour at

ffxii_dream

By

luke_delacour at

ffxii_dream

By

luke_delacour at

ffxii_dream

By

luke_delacour at

ffxii_dream

By

houdini_splicer

By

houdini_splicer

FETUS

I adopted my cute lil' ninja fetus
from Fetusmart! Fetus is Love! XD

I adopted my cute lil' dragon fetus
from Fetusmart! Fetus is Love x2! XD

Extras

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Credit/Disclaimer

This here profile code comes from

reversescollide and I snagged the Tina Branford mood theme from

lirillith. It is vundahbah! 8D The NIS mood theme comes from

ladypalazzo. And my new header is from Magitek-Designs. :)

MY NEW DISCLAIMER:
Due to some confusion and nitpicking of others regarding my picspams at

benicio_daily, I'd like to say that the photos I find come from a VARIETY of sites. I can't keep track of them all and I'm not making any effort to do so. I claim nothing unless I've actually done something. If anyone asks where specific pictures come from, I'll most certainly try and post a link as to where I think I found it. But I've got 10+ years worth of pictures and the pile is only growing. Many sites are now defunct. So I think it's pretty easy to understand why I'm not including sources for each pic I post up. I can safely say that the more recent photos are from one of the three Ezboard/Yuku messageboards I lurk at. God only knows where those posters find some of them. I know I don't see a source link on every picture. And I don't care. We're all here for one thing and that is to check out what's new and what's happening with Benicio del Toro and that's why I'm sharing what I find. And I'm going to continue to do so because I enjoy sharing. And this applies to a lot of what I do, not just the Benicio stuff. And that's my disclaimer, folks.

Interests (150):