I was born in the desert

My mother hailed from the sky and my father was the soil crushed by her powerful feet. That violent love print was my cradle.
My delusional tongue doesn't betray my origins. The desert is harsh but my childhood was mostly happy. I learnt to love the shy cacti and roguish cachoras. I learnt to tolerate the sun as well.

My parents made me a sister for me to play with and another one for me to bother. The former is more sun than moon and the latter is a twinkling star. Stars and suns are quite different, actually, but they are both equally impressive. Shining and sparkling wherever they are. Sun girls just like to go out every night and won't return until morning. Star sisters are always watching over you.

I used to be a havoc witch. I only knew bad spells. I still have nightmares about becoming that young selfish hag again. The sea —the distance— did wonders for me. I still am pretty much a dirty woman but now it's mostly salt and sand.

In other words, now that the departure allows the longing, I often think of the best of these people and all the stupid fights seem to vanish. I greatly recommend the exodus to all the troubled kids in the world.

I am a wicked witch of words

From the Merriam-Webster dictionary.

Poetess n. (po·​et·​ess): a girl or woman who is a poet.

Let me be frank for a moment. This is all bullshit. You must know I am first of all a crazy slut and second of all a poetess. I feel so pretencious calling myself so but then again what am I if not a fat pompous princess of filth. I am unable to write a normal paragraph without indulging in poetic bullshit lest I fall asleep from boredom. I am not a poetess because I have 'mastered the art of poetactics' but because poetry has forever fried my brain in a way I could never recover from. My point is: Do have compassion for my soul.

If you must blame someone for my condition, I would point to my local library which took me on a reading spree which lead me to the foulest crackhouse any teenager can fall victim to: my high school's bookclub, Café Literario. I fear they may still be out there, corrupting naive children like I once was with pedantery, coercing them to write the cringiest masterpieces anyone in the neighborhood has ever read. I look back on it with nostalgia and dread. I have a section in this website dedicated to our material, you should look for it.

I know I speak ill of them, but I do urge you to read my poems, if not poetry in general. Of course, feel free to ignore my words but I guess if you are already here, you definitively must be going down the rabbit hole. We love a new victim. Give my stuff a read, I take a while to produce something worthwhile —like an oyster and its pearls, I wrote about it once— but reactions are oh so great. I love causing you to feel something, bad or good. I want the taste to linger in your mouth not for selfish grandiose reasons but to know someone else gets it. That's the whole point. Now back to my antics . . .

I love playing games!

When I was around 5 years old my father purchased an XBOX for me, with Project Gotham Racing 2 and Halo 2. As an undercover girl at the time, cars obviously were the most boring thing in the world and the aliens in Halo were so scary I couldn't go very far. Lucky for me, my father somehow knew someone who offered to "hack" my console and add hundreds of games for free . . . Super Nintendo games. Even though I grew up in the two thousands, I spent all my childhood playing old "retro" videogames, specially RPGs. I fell in love with Final Fantasy, Super Mario RPG, .

I want this to be a longish page but I don't know what to put skjskjfhsdj

Also here's what buttons look like in the main divs.

• Lorem Ipsum
• Go Back
• Jadepages Test Version

The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled `ORANGE MARMALADE’, but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it.

`Well!’ thought Alice to herself, `after such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they’ll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn’t say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!’ (Which was very likely true.)

Down, down, down. Would the fall NEVER come to an end! `I wonder how many miles I’ve fallen by this time?’ she said aloud. `I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down, I think–‘ (for, you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a VERY good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) `–yes, that’s about the right distance–but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I’ve got to?’ (Alice had no idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to say.)

Presently she began again. `I wonder if I shall fall right THROUGH the earth! How funny it’ll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward! The Antipathies, I think–‘ (she was rather glad there WAS no one listening, this time, as it didn’t sound at all the right word) `–but I shall have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. Please, Ma’am, is this New Zealand or Australia?’ (and she tried to curtsey as she spoke–fancy CURTSEYING as you’re falling through the air! Do you think you could manage it?) `And what an ignorant little girl she’ll think me for asking! No, it’ll never do to ask: perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.’

Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking again. `Dinah’ll miss me very much to-night, I should think!’ (Dinah was the cat.) `I hope they’ll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. Dinah my dear! I wish you were down here with me! There are no mice in the air, I’m afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that’s very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?’ And here Alice began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, `Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats?’ and sometimes, `Do bats eat cats?’ for, you see, as she couldn’t answer either question, it didn’t much matter which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very earnestly, `Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did you ever eat a bat?’ when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.

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Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner, `Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it’s getting!’ She was close behind it when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.

There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again.

Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, and Alice’s first thought was that it might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she tried the little golden key in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!

Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head though the doorway; `and even if my head would go through,’ thought poor Alice, `it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only know how to begin.’ For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.

There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it, (`which certainly was not here before,’ said Alice,) and round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words `DRINK ME’ beautifully printed on it in large letters.

It was all very well to say `Drink me,’ but the wise little Alice was not going to do THAT in a hurry. `No, I’ll look first,’ she said, `and see whether it’s marked “poison” or not’; for she had read several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they WOULD not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your finger VERY deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked `poison,’ it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.

However, this bottle was NOT marked `poison,’ so Alice ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off.

You know, what I give up. There aren't any notable or fancy features to be showing off anyway, just a bunch of boxes. Um.... Alice in Wonderland is public domain, so I probably don't need to put this on the credits page. Eh.