What I've been dreading for this year and half of the next -- because I get out of school in June -- is that I'll never see the people whom I've hung out with (and just now as well)...but there are other worries that I need to document.

This is officially a vent as this has been something on my mind as of late --

I know that life will go on and all sorts of things but life sucks...a lot. Especially when you're not 18 and your parent insists that they hold your hand all the way, bribing you with the benefits of a job they have and the companionship of a woman whom I probably should despise...for being six years older than me...and being married to said parent. :|

I'm having my doubts people -- about that union (that's already documented and official) -- and it made me realize how much of a skeptic I am, or have grown to be.


As kids we listened and did as told. If there was something that caught our eye on the flashing picture square with little people in it (a.k.a the tv) we emulated them, or their likeness. And we thought nothing of it. it was just something we did and thought was right or felt good. That blindness, to the consequences, was something only a kid could do since they haven't quite developed their moral system. Someone had to do it for them, until they could think for themselves. Of my childhood I'll tell you this much:

1) I dressed up as a little princess and held a little party when the dad was away at work. The entree served was no entree but a tray of hastily mixed Quik mix. We gathered in my brother's room (one was living with us that time) and listened to the music of the game he was playing in the other room via receiver and radio. He was notably annoyed. When the time came for the dad to come home, I pushed my guests out the back door while I rushed out the front door, hid behind a dumpster, and (like a stalker) watched him walk from his car to the front door of the apartment. I don't know till this day whether he saw me or not (I was wearing a pink Cinderella dress after all -- it was for a life size barbie).

2) I put a chicken egg -- the ones from the carton -- under a bird plush toy to see if it would hatch. There was even a nest I made of cotton balls. I honestly thought a chick would hatch. When a considerable amount of time passed, I was impatient and cracked the egg open. I noted the white embryo and said that a chick was going to hatch from the egg eventually! If only there was more time... haha of couse not. I was so optimistic about it too.

3) There was a time when a brother and I made a dollhouse (a simple blocky two story one) out of yugioh cards, paper and tape. The windows were saran wrap covered squares and the carpet was some thin spongy stuff that was used to keep decorative objects in place on a slippery surface. Beds were the tops of small boxes stuffed with cotton and the pillows were the round things in jewelry cases to put rings in. The characters we used for this house (and even for chess and a tactics RPG like game) were little toys and figurines, like a mini Pikachu and even a little troll thingy with the hair standing up...among other knick knacks. The toys were leftovers of a very present-filled Christmas. I don't remember the little details of the house now, like how the hell lights were incorporated into that thing but lights were there. Too bad that it was destroyed (probably by him or by the mom, not sure, I don't want to ask). The time spent with this house was time spent away from the mom, who pretty much dominated the house. It was an escape when the video games were taken away.

Of the things I tend to remember from those years were negative visions of my mom (and dad, but mostly my mom) and the embarrasing moments that bring shame to me. I barely remember the fun things. It's always the bad things.

I've tried to think of something else, or not think about it at all, but when the subject comes as to how my life was basically screwed over and turned into a confusing living hell...well, I blame the mom. Then I blame myself because I blame someone who was going through some problems that I could never comprehend (but did she have to resort to hitting their kids or unusually punishing them for miniscule things?). Why am I doing this in the first place? Why should I think of my past if it bars me from moving forward? Living in the present...whatever happened to that?

What I've been asking myself... is this:

"What am I guilty for?"

I do not cling to faith. I am a skeptic.  I trust very little but have a love for mankind and their advances. I also despise mankind for their flaws. It balances each other out. I believe that we are delusional in the sense that we give things, objects, ideas more meaning than they should have. And we blindly go along with it. I disagree with logic being rationalized by untouchable things, so demonstrated by math and lab science.

"What are numbers? What are particles?" I know particales are what makes us but we have to imagine that they're there UNLESS you have the tehnology to see them. As for numbers...well...I have nothing for that. Putting that aside, it teaches you to think logically and that certain things have certain answers, guaranteed answers probably, but that's just me theorizing.

Anywho, though I like what life has to offer (if you're willing to keep with the program) I don't see the point in it if we die and rot in the ground (or are burned to smithereens if you so prefer). (That's why people have "faith" for).

Isn't that called nihilism?

I don't agree with that too.

There is a point in life and that point is what you make it out to be. Your actions do do something to you and other people.

There's another -ism for this but I can't recall it now.

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Vent aside. Ideas are abstract (and I prefer abstract ideas). But it'll kill you. It isn't real. You can't touch abstract ideas. You can keep creating it on and on and on and it'll never end. People will take whatever idea there is, from whatever source -- it doesn't matter -- and morph it to whatever they Will it to be. In a way, we are our own Gods. We govern our life and whatever path we take. We judge others and they judge us...to name a few. If it's so, there isn't any point to wallow in abstractions (to wallow in a false reality -- in our past since it exists in fragments of memory).

So...

Live.

Whatever happens happens -- just let it be and deal with it however your able with whatever you're already supplied with.

...but it doesn't mean that real life attachments can't "kill" you either.

It's all just a matter of time.

Just saying *shrugs*

First things first...

I put the word verification on...again after receiving spam comments that linked to porn sites. That is not okay with me at all. :| So, word verification for now (I don't like it myself) but it's working. I haven't been having spam as of late so I'm content. Someday, the WV will go away. Hell, I might take it off after this post to see if they post spam again -- shall report on that later.

Second...

It's really really cold in California and I could never be more happier about it, if only it wasn't a nuisance to bundle up in two sweaters and gloves -- it's even more annoying when you're walking and your ear phones fall off every so and so number of steps (because I walk home everyday and I walk very fast). My fingers feel like they're going to fall off every time I take off the gloves...and that the wind is mad at me since it's practically lashing out at my face :| Haha, what a bad joke. ^^

Thirdly...

I'm feeling somewhat better about the whole split persona thing. Turns out, I'm just delusional :D no, no, it's just me being confused and anxious. I'm not sure what about but it is confusion that's for sure. No point in me whining about it, but there are times where I can't help but do something because it bugs me.

For example today, in Art class, two people had to clean up after the whole table. We were working with water-based clay so there was residue that dried onto the table top. This was to be cleaned with sponges. Basically the girl who cleaned my side of the table did not do such a good job as the sponge was barely even wet so the residue was spread around in circles pretty much. And this was a black table so it was bad...like snail trails.

I litereally felt my eye twitching as it dried and, not wanting to lash out at the girl since she didn't want to do it in the first place, I got up and attempted to clean it. I cleaned it enough to make it less of an eyesore but it was not enough. My fingers were twitching then. Nervous habit. >> I couldn't even look at the other people at the table.

I guess I'm one of those people that have to have things in a certain way or else they won't function "right." It doesn't happen a lot though, only because there haven't been instances on this particular scale that happened before so I can't  know for sure. (Or maybe I'll never know).

Fourth...

Silent Hill: Shattered Memories for the Wii is...a MASTERPIECE (for a game). :)

My god, I finished it last night and I cried (I got the good ending, I believe). The Silent Hill franchise rocks dammit. It just does. Sucks though that the main and most awesome composer ever resigned from the company, Konami, so there probably won't be any more SH games (just maybe). Whatever he goes out to do, the best of luck to him.

IMO, this is pretty biased since I'm a fan but, oh well. This is the interwebs after all. :)



download link

^ Just one of my favorite songs to listen to at the moment (I'm going to find a way to rip the soundtrack instead since I have it and all so I can share it with you blogging people).

Fifth...

I'm working on reviving Little Miss Murder. As well as something totally unrelated (but as more of a stress reliever).

I had some plans for that story, even though it is experimental in regards to story telling and something I did in my spare time. Mmm... I'm not too confident about the next chapter because of me being too technical with my writing lately so it reads out to be a bit cluttered (darn essays :) ) rather than smoothly as one would read a narrative. (Honestly now, since when did my narratives "flow?" I'm really not sure what expect from my writing. So far, I'm assuming that to be my style -- unorthodox -- since I can't plant my butt on a chair long enough focussing on one sing;e thing.) Blog posts are different since my mind is able to wander...like now.

I'll be looking over it some more before I make it official.

Sixth...

Winter break is coming up and it's going to be...cool (another pun?) My brothers will be coming over to visit and it'll be a videogame filled two weeks. That's going to be fun. :)

Also, I'm making a cookie pizza to bring for a potluck in Anatomy next Friday. Half chocolate chip and half sugar cookie. I'm not sure how that's going to taste/turn out but if it does, I'll make some mention of it...with pictures.

(I'm most likely going to write a one-shot about this later)

It's disturbing actually. In it, I was running away from the dark but I couldn't since it was everywhere and everything. Even if it was light out, there was always a way for the darkness to follow and scare me.

Put's a whole new context to someone afraid of their shadow...I guess.

Anyway, this is absolute nonsense. I can't stop thinking about it though. Everytime I have to go outside either it be the hallway or the restroom...anywhere! It..just creeps me out (creeps us all out) since whatever the hell is scaring me all the time is me (or another me, the me I don't want to remember because almost everyone I knew when I was that old me associated me with a certain scary movie that I absolutely can't stand).

It's ironic that I like scaring people (or surprising them in a way).

Haha, so I'm scaring myself. Karma, much? (Man, I'm screwed :p )

Argh, I'm so stupid sometimes. Who knows, my personas may stem from my immaturity and aren't really "real" and is my excuse to "relive my childhood." There's a lot of possibilities. Me being a delusional SoB is one of them.

Mother dear I saw a falling star
To-night I wished with all my heart
That you vanish forever


     Father dear I saw a falling star
     To-night I wished with all my heart
     That you are smashed into tiny pieces


          Brother dear I saw a falling star
          To-night I wished with all my heart
          That you rot from the inside out (to feed the insects, you see)


     Sister dear I saw a falling star
     (And what a marvelous sight)
     To-night I wished with all my heart
      That you live a thousand years before you return to dust


Ah me, did we tell ourselves that we saw a falling star?
(It streaked across the black in a slow gait -- was it even a star at all?)
To-night I wished with all my heart
That I die the most horrible death, for wishing the most vile things of people around me.


     I do not deserve to live
    (but I'm still here no matter how many times I wish I was not).

To get that cosplay post out of the way...

How is everybody?

Just last week, first quarter ended so we had to rush on tests and the like. Surprisingly, I think I did pretty well, but you know how hoping goes (that later on you did worse than you thought). Then, three weeks later, right before Thanksgiving break (a week long break - huzzah!) we'll have a district assessment (and the three weeks after that and so on... I believe I've ranted about this before...if so, sorry for being repetitive). All in all, I'm not partial to tests.

To tell you the truth, there have been times where I could have blogged about something...but I chose not to (stupid me). I really should try to blog more...


The reason I haven't been blogging are two things: school and video games.

School is self-explanatory. This is my last year, everything has to be in order to graduate. This enables the imaginary Stress-o-Meter in my brain to rise, rise, rise...almost enough that the meter is at it's breaking point. Playing games helps, but that means less time for drawing and writing (well, I can't really say writing since I've been writing random ballads and poems, with some related to a particular story etc.).

I feel like I should delve more into the games I'm playing so I might do a post on that since I just finished playing Fire Emblem : Shadow Dragon. :| A loooot of things I want to rant about that...but that's my gamer side talking. :D He's angry, he's German, he's a gamer and he likes Crunch bars!/bad inside joke.

This could just be another figment of my imagination since childhood. The personalities I mean. Talking to yourself doesn't mean that there's another you, nor does it mean that you're crazy (doesn't it?).

Anyway, now you know why I'm anti-social (haha). I'll introduce you to these de-lightful people later when I figure out why they're here in the first place (and the reason besides, "They're here because I believe they're here."). Well, I'm off to be my own psychologist since there is no time (or money) to see a professional one.

Sorry if my first post back is a bit on the negative side.

I can't remember when I last posted something not writing-related...

Well, school is going along okay. Also, I have been getting into poetry lately (because we're reading Beowulf in class) and that's certainly interesting. A lot of papers have accumulated since I wrote my first lyric poem and am thinking of getting a separate binder to put them in, instead of cramming it down notebook sleeves.

Here's some news: I'm going to be 17 next Saturday and I'm not sure whether I should be excited or...not excited. It's only a number but I'll be that much closer to being seen and accounted for as an adult (as it so happens, it's likely I'll have to buy insurance for myself soon - give or take several years since I plan to go to some college). And...frankly... I'm not liking that. Only because I'm still undecided as to what I want to do, well, I am (somewhat), but it seems more like a dream to me (by that I mean to draw or become an illustrator of some sort).

So yeah... I'm pretty anxious about it and no matter how much I try to not think about the future - just all the possibilities and all - I can't (or I obsess about how much I can't suppress the fact that I am worried).

But, to go to a lighter topic, Halloween is on a Saturday this year! I plan to dress up and possibly take pictures! After weeks of thought it's official that I'll be cosplaying this year as...



I watched the anime and loved it. I'm planning to read the manga soon since the manga is always better and is much longer than the animation.

Anywho... It's going to be my first time cosplaying (though I doubt I'll be going to an anime convention anytime soon - b/c it's a given that people will recognize you and stuff which makes dressing up more enjoyable since you're around fellow fans).

Unlike some amazing people out there who make their own costumes I have to go shopping for the pieces - I've even changed the costume up a bit so it fits my body type. In the cosplaying world (yes, I've about googled my fill about this subject) specific details are a plus BUT because of my height - and the nature of his clothes (a bit loose up top since his body type - like most anime characters - is impossibly small and lean) I'm sure it'll look awkward if I had gray trousers with an oversized jacket. If it's anything, I've changed those trousers to somewhat short shorts and hopefully knee-length socks (or higher). So, it would almost be like the female version of him but also not because of this picture...


...yep.

Shopping around - got to keep to a budget you know? - is going to be a pain because I've made it mandatory on myself to assemble the pieces I already got/have (sweater, dress shirt) with the ones I need to see if it fits with everything else... I'm just wondering how I'm going to sneak the shoes in... >.>

In hopes of moving on from me talking about my costume it's a decent anime about modern ninjas. Way, way shorter than the ever-so popular Naruto and ten times more emotional.

And just mentioning emotional, I must mention as well that I cried (hence why I'm a fan).

All in all I liked it but it's not for everybody (like...boys for example because shounen-ai is hinted - boy's love - even though it isn't like that >.> well, not in my mind...not sure about everyone else).

Maybe it has a lot to do with a woman being the creator/ artist? (b/c it has that emotional element to it that's kind of downplayed in regular shonen stories).

What else to mention...?

Oh, I know it's autumn and all (hooray) but my room is still stupidly hot (and I'm not partial to heat). So I've been camping up in the parent's bedroom since it's much cooler - and I said this to explain why I haven't been on the computer much...at all.) I have been online for special instances however, like school stuff and updating my fictionpress account - just throwing it out there /fail

Right now, if it came up, I'm using my dad's laptop so thank it people because it made this post possible xD...and Kanye bites donkey-butt for his remark (now he's a meme - lol - but some people disagree it seems:)

From: urlesque

Yo, Kanye, I'm really happy for you. I'm gonna let you finish, but LOLcats had the best internet meme of all time! Oh, AND, Rick Astley is never gonna give you up!

by:// pepper - Sep 15th 2009

xD Anyway, I hope everyone's doing well - I can see you're all posting though! I wish I had some time to look over them but I have to get to work on homework - my anatomy class is oh so tedious (tons of notes, tons of drawings to go with the notes, and review questions that number to approximately 3 to 4 pairs of hands...at least!).

Okay...now back to looking up info on Beowulf for that essay...

K.WEST: YO, LAELAH, I'M REALLY HAPPY FOR YOU AND I'M GONNA LET YOU FINISH BUT GILGAMESH WAS ONE OF THE GREATEST EPICS OF ALL TIME!!

... /phael

Memes are hilarious.

...A short using some characters from "Ephemeral Wings"




“Sarra,” someone said to the blonde, “sometimes you can't see what's in front of you if you don't open your eyes.”

“What? I can see just fine, thank you... Have you seen this yet?” She gestured to the side of the rickety carriage, her outstretched fingers catching every bit of the seaside air. “It's so blue...and vast! Though, I wonder what's beyond that horizon... When the sun sets, where does he go?”

“He?”

“Sharem, a sparkling angel, the angel of the setting sun...” She sat back, clutching her cloak about her, shivering.

After awhile, they queried, “What are your thoughts on heaven? I'd like to know.”

A smile graced her pale thin lips. “It's a warm place, a wonderful place where there is no suffering. A place where you go when you're tired.”

Curiously, they asked, “Are you tired?”

“No. Just sleepy. We've been on the road for three days, feels like we haven't gone anywhere though...”

“And...?”

“Except seeing the ocean again of course. This is the second time I've seen it... The first time. I remember being so afraid. It was, in truth, a very black day. Because of our born abilities we were pursued and imprisoned, sold. A few years passed during my imprisonment when the forces of the kingdom were torn asunder.” She paused. “Just think... Fighting your own people, how would that feel? Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that we were released but our escape wasn't easy. In those changed men's eyes was a dark power – I remember, someone I cared for very much tried to reason with one of the soldiers and the end result was his life. But it was also that same day when I was finally free. Meeting these kind people, these wanderers that took me in, I was so happy that I knelt and kissed the earth... Can you imagine it? A damp taste that lingers on your lips, the redeeming taste of rain and fresh soil – that was true freedom.

I do hope that he found that warm place. When I tire I want to see him there. It wouldn't be the same without him, plus, we made a bet.”

“Are you sure this friend wasn't a cheat?”

“He would kill you for saying that. No really! I mean, sure he gambled, but it was for entertainment... I'm positive.”

“Doesn't sound like it. Tell me about your friend then. The destination is still far off. We have plenty of time.”

“You sure are a curious stranger. I don't even know your name, nor have you shown your face. I don't see why I should tell you about him.”

The said stranger reached into the folds of his cloak. “Sure are a picky woman... Fine. Why don't we make a bet. Heads or tails. Tails, I'll tell you my name. Heads, you tell me about your friend. Ready – ”

“Wait! If it's Tails you have to show me your face. You can give me a fake name if you wanted to.”

“Heh. Smart move. Fine. Tails, I show you my face – ”

With the flick of a thumb, the coin spun high in the air. Sarra caught the gleam of silver, watched the stranger's confidant hands catch the coin and flip it face-down. How...familiar it all was.

“What is it?” Sarra managed a breath, a puff of air materializing in front of her. The stranger failed to move, sitting as still as a statue, hand clasped over the coin. “What's wrong?” she asked, suddenly aware of the ever lowering temperature.

“... Sometimes you have to open your eyes,” they said, “because you close them without knowing at times. It's a reflex of your conscience.” The stranger held out his clasped hands. “Will you risk it all on this one coin-flip?”

“What am I risking?”

“That is not mine to answer.”

The carriage shook violently. The once calm waves violently crashed onto shore, foam rising up and down the sand, engulfing any living creature. Thunder and lightning, like cymbals, roared in the heavens – signaling the coming of a grand maelstrom. Sarra peered outside, struck dumb by the weather, the suddenly dark atmosphere and the flag waving far down the road.

“Open your eyes,” the stranger said but she paid them no attention.

The flag was carried by soldiers on horseback – similar to those she had recalled not to long ago. Pairs of red eyes flashed through dark stained helmets, an acrid smell was approaching fast – iron and gunpowder. Loosening her grip in absolute terror, her cloak was torn from her body by the vicious winds. Lightning flashed quick, transforming the burgundy cloak to a bright glistening red –

Sarra...

“Have you found your answer?”

Are you alright?

The soldiers were mere meters from the carriage. She turned to find the stranger's hands open already.

Sarra...

“You said this was my decision – ”

“You decide too slow.”

“But still, you said – ”

“Crybaby. It's simple.” – he tossed the coin to her – “I cheat.”

With that, the stranger leapt into the maelstrom –

Hey...

Sarra...

Hello?

Wake up sleepyhead!

...

“She sure likes to sleep in...”

“Tell me about it...”

It was bright. Instinctively she covered her face with her hands. Instantly she felt a warm spot on her cheek. Blinking, it slid as she turned her body, pushing away the blankets.

“What is that?”

“Sarra?”

She paused, absorbing whatever information she could get from her dream... Delicately she held the coin in the sun, looking at it skeptically as though it might disappear any second.

“Sarra...Are you alright?”

Her voice was soft, on the verge of tears, “Tails... Double. I won.”

It's only been the second day and it's...great.

Here's my schedule:

1 - American Government/Drafting
2 - English 4
3 - Anatomy & Physiology
4 - Algebra II
5 - Art I/Economics
6 - Horticulture

* the classes after the / are the classes I'll have in the Spring Semester

Alright. I know I've mentioned something about me not being a Math person but it's really weird that a Senior should have Alg II in the first place. >.>

I have a theory on why I despise Math but I'd end up typing two or two hundred paragraphs of me putting my hatred/dislike of Mathematics in layman's terms. BUT, being that this is the only class I really need to focus on (since everything else, even English, is fairly easy stuff) that's enough to motivate me to even want to learn about stuff I may/may not use later on. :) I decided on Illustration as my major (finally decided and I feel better about it).

So, to my First Day of school -

I've covered the whole Mother Nature sabotaging me part in the last post so I'll just move along (so I can get some work done).

First of all, I almost panicked because I wasn't sure where my class was so I had to ask a teacher...and...wow. D: For that brief second, I was reminded of Grey, the protagonist from Year Zero. Of course, it was a tiny voice at the time but as I walked away I couldn't help but mentally slap myself.

You know on every first day, you look for people you know in your classes. Whether you want to or not, it's what you do. You can't help it since it is a new year and all. :) Walking in first period (and I wasn't tardy, woo!) I felt awkward. I mean, you see empty seats and a sparse amount of people and they're all looking at the doorway. But, fortunately, there was someone I somewhat knew and that made it better.

Second period, not so lucky. Though I do have some people from last year's English class but it isn't like I talk to them frequently.

After second, we have a ten minute break called Brunch... In which I met someone too (and that made me happy).

Third...was interesting. The teacher's kinda cool - like the intelligent-cool teacher everyone has mixed reactions about - though the introductory speech dragged a bit. And me, being a fool and sleeping two or so hours before having to wake up, was nodding off. That is the last thing you want to do ever when you have a teacher like this guy - there's that fine line between lenient and strict.

Fourth I coincidentally have the same teacher I had when I took Algebra II during Sophomore year. D: Yes. I have failed this damn class for two years straight but do take into account that some serious family crap was going on and I nearly bombed all my classes then. Sophomore year and partial of Junior year is something I'd rather not remember.

Anyways, pretty basic stuff... NOT. I'd hate to get all girly on you guys but there was this German exchange student who everyone (mostly the girls) freaked out over. (Damn my modesty or lack of caring/shallowness) Simply put, he was just really really pretty...for a dude. Not just that, he was tall and had a really deep accent. It sucks how many of the girls paid more attention to him than the Chinese Exchange student. I was also reminded of a character, who, if they lived here, on Earth, would probably be German...

After was lunch. It was a sad lunch. xD I walked around in the halls just looking for a spot to sit - and was perusing to see where my next class would be when... HOLY -- Sorry people, I have this fixation on awesomely styled hair (it's 'cause I'm strangely attached to my hair - it's fairly long now atm >.> it's something from my childhood when my dad used to cut my hair and it made me sad as to how straight and short it was always cut. It was also the era before I had bangs). But yeah... Sadly, I think I'm hated by this person (or just awkward on some levels - again, something happened between the both of us during Sophomore year - yep, right when I was feeling my lowest). We aren't on speaking terms but :) "Thank you" is what I'd say if I ever get the chance (like never)... Though I doubt they'll know why I'm thanking them.

So after, looking around, I found a good spot to sit, read some chapters of The Brothers Karamazov till the bell rang and along I went to...

Art class! In which the teacher was new and originally came from Germany with English as her second language. And people were rude enough to make fun of her without her knowing. It was just a lot of introductions again. I was hoping that we could do some drawing excercises - like shading, shapes etc. but that didn't happen. I was disappointed but today we got working (somewhat). I'm still nervous about drawing with people next to me though...

Sixth period is Horticulture...more like Landscaping. Fortunately, I am not alone. :) Fun times. We basically pulled weeds, raked, swept, hosed down windows... It's just awesome. Not to mention we get to plant stuff later on. I think it's epic that this is a year-long class! What a way to end the day right?

So there.

First days are always awkward. Actually any "First..." thing is. It's almost like it's built right into the word itself. There's the general nervousness, the excitement, the letdowns and the relief you feel after the day is done.

I may sound as if I'm talking/typing right out of my arse, but it's my last First day on the school I've attended to for three years. In those three years I actually liked this school. Also, it's somewhat reassuring that two of my half-brothers walked the same halls and fields. But now it's being torn down and redone. I feel that at the end of the year I will lose something and gain something in return. I'm unsure as to how large this thing I lose will be, I mean, what if what I gain and lose don't equal up? It wouldn't seem very fair.

Anywho, there's my fear for you. One of my fears. The other fear are the words I will never say to the people I will never, most likely never ever ever see again.

Oh and the answer to this riddle was...

A writer's notebook! /fail

Hi people!

It's a record 2:35 am and it's officially the second day of senior year...
Fantastic...

But seriously, the first day went alright - better than I expected anyway being it my last first day (and it's a big deal since this'll be the last year before the school is entirely rebuilt and everything is shiny and clean and neat and "futuristic") - but it could've been better if Mother Nature didn't decide to pay me a visit on the same day. I would've been fine if it was...say...next week...but no. It just had to be this week and on that day - Wednesday (which I consider to be the butt of the entire week) - and I am abusing italics it appears!

Anywho, I'm going to try to sleep (I get an A for effort) and maybe tomorrow I can blog about my impressions. There were certainly some interesting things I noticed and such and such that I can't think of at the moment...

Till later today then! (if I don't fall asleep in the afternoon...again)

Frankly, I'm stuck as to whether I should vent or not.

...
..
.

So, how is everybody?

For the SC prompt— Where in the world?

Mars was on the run again.

He previously decided to hide in a room, but despite it's normal appearance, it wasn't.

It was a quaint room with a crackling fire and plush sofas set around a coffee table. It was oh so similar to home that he made himself comfortable accordingly... Then things spoke. Even the most ordinary objects suddenly drew sharp breaths, scolding the very sight of him. They even went as low to criticizing him for having a face when only the Matriarch—if he recalled correctly—and her Knights were the only ones allowed faces. It was then and there that he decided to run for his life and not look back—

He was in a hallway, wide and empty. To the side of him were three-story tall windows, triangular-shaped, like arrowheads lined up a few inches apart. Each shimmered as if made of crystal, enhancing the sight of the garden behind it. Mars followed this path, hoping it would lead him to that garden. He hoped that entering the garden would end this terrible dream because that was how the majority of his dreams ended in the past—

He always ran, it seemed, always ran from something. If he were to look back, whatever landscape was left was encased in ice and the ice didn't show any notion of stopping unless it engulfed everything in it's path. And always there was a light he ran to, and beyond that light was the warmth of a garden in summer. Staring up at the sun in the sky, the blinding sensation subsequent to that would wake him...

The hall was unusually quiet, it had been for the ten minutes or so the second he darted out of that room—if not ten then something close to it. There was no way of telling time in this infernal place. Adjacent the triangle windows were rows of doors. And with those rows of doors—all equally tall but more narrow—were patches of bare wall. On those patches were clocks, all different sizes and shapes and colors, and all with no face, just the numbers and the second hand ticking away. All those monotonous ticks and tocks, put together with the patter of his feet on the polished floors—it all couldn't have been anything else but a dream!

I must be crazy to start writing spontaneously from a list I made up yesterday. A total number of 32 titles - unless I add more of course. I call it the "Possible Title List" because I was thinking up of a good title for that vampire story (so far still unnamed). I said to myself, because I was getting possible titles for everything else BUT that story, "Why not write them out?" And I did.

One of those titles was -

The Castle of Cloud/Klaude/Klaude's Castle

So now you know why I had that piece up in the past post. Now for the angry part.

"Why did you start this now?!!?" *headdesk*

Now for the excuses part.

"Just to start writing so I can follow up with the unfinished chapters in the other stories."

Now for the "You idiot" part.

"Still, you should've left it as a one-shot, you idiot."

And then for the "Wait a minute" part.

"Wait a minute, it isn't like I knew it was going to blow out of proportion. Besides, it's for fun. It has no deadlines or anything of the sort."

"But so is everything else you started - except that one thing a year ago... Still. you should've waited maybe, or thought it over. Working on three stories while having to cough up drawings? What are you doing to yourself?"

"Doing what I love of course. Writing, drawing... I know it should matter because everyone else I know has their futures laid out for them while I don't. One's getting married, the others going to community college to study, another is moving out and another is probably going to go nowhere (no offense whoever I'm talking about, I'm pulling out examples from my currently dead brain). The uncertainty, of course it scares me, but I can't sit here and worry about things that don't exist!"

"Your point?"

"So... My way of coping - way of staving off the worrying - is to write what I've always wanted to write about, whatever comes to mind, whatever troubles I'm going through - every single thing that I see and hear goes into my writing somehow. It's the medium that I'm much more comfortable expressing myself freely."

"...you do know your setting yourself up for a great fall? Those worlds you've created, yes, those you hide yourself in, eventually it'll consume you whole and what will happen then?"

"That's why you're here. you can stop that from happening."

"But you don't listen!"

"Okay. Yes. I admit, I write sometimes on impulse -"

"Sometimes?"

"Hey, you've got to give me some credit now. I write because I want to and I can. Sometimes it's impulse, sometimes it's obligation or determination to see those chapters accumulate in your documents folder or get to a certain scene you particularly like."

"...okay."

"But talking about writing is so much more simpler than actually doing it. It's actually - everything, life, drawing, writing...not so much writing, just some specific stories are giving me trouble at the moment - starting to collapse, like the floor just...dissolved, or is dissolving slowly. I feel I need guidance, yet I don't want it."

"There's an easy solution."

"What?"

"Get out more. Walk the block - and not in your head or just down the stairs - actually go outside, wear pants and shoes and walk. The thing when writing, everything consumes you even if there is no specific rise in word count. The worlds, the characters - their voices, desires, loves and hopes and their fate - you hold them all in your mind and that wears you out. Before you know it everything mixes together, becoming a single monstrous entity that you carry like Atlas and the sky. So, mentally, you get crushed and maybe you can take the pressure but it eventually gets to you. You know your limits but even then you disregard that - thinking you're invincible - and push the envelope. And it's all for the characters."

"I love them all, shouldn't that matter?"

"Yes. but, love itself is like fiction. It isn't a physical like a person. It's an idea, an emotion - a character - and is malleable. It's definition is different for everyone and is used in different ways. Love is indirect. Adoration is a bit more closer to being clear with what you say. Think of it like this: Love is to Adoration; Beautiful is to Attractive; Movie characters to the Working man, you know, that guy working down the block at the construction site. You don't see them whistling."

"Now it's my turn to ask your point."

"Of course you love your characters. You made them. But you can't physically show them you care and vice versa. They don't exist so your love is, as it's multiple definitions, very empty. You're only saying it to give them more meaning."

"And...?"

"That'll kill you. You fear Death. I know you - I am you - and you don't want to die not doing anything."

"Sure. But the mad part of being a writer - the madness of being "brave" - is to face your fear."

"Oh. Right. Like being "brave" in writing is helping you in real life."

"Okay. I'll consider that -"

"It's true!"

"Alright. But I don't want to live in real life..."

"There's your problem."

"But it isn't like I know that. Since we're being honest, I envy everyone else who isn't missing out on...on whatever this time of our lives is supposed to be... BUT, I do not envy the things that some people do to themselves just to "live" among other teenagers. At least, what I'm doing, isn't so life-changing as, say, having a baby when you're seventeen."

"..."

"I don't want that kind of "real-life." My "real life" is different. Besides, this is summer. My last summer as a k-12 student. Next year it'll either be "college kid" or "freeloader." You'll just have to see - that's what everyone says."

"... Being uncertain is killing me."

"And I embrace being uncertain."

"This is giving me a headache."

"I know - I'm you remember?"

"Why the hell be a writer? There's the options of being an illustrator...or a psychologist. Ach, this ache is killing me..."

"Haven't I already covered that?"

"In a nutshell, please."

"I'm insane, duh."

I said I was going to write today so here I am trying to start it off with a one-shot (or something of the sort). There will be an actual blog post soon (if I manage my time right). So here you go, a story written right on the spot out of a list I have of titles along with their possible stories.

...and am lazy enough to not think of a more imaginative title.

So I'm sitting here thinking of a rant I could type up. A few seconds later, I change my mind - "who would want to read a rant," I query, "I do doubt that I'll make much sense." So this won't be a rant (hopefully) - and it's not directed at anyone here either (many of my rants aren't anyway). :)

Sunday Scribblings #172 - The Plan

Why not write? Just write.
Technical terms literally cramp my style - my voice -
You're killing Art did you know?

Overly literal
Overly realist
Sometimes over-thinking situations can land you in the gutter - how very sad -

To you
From me
A present of everlasting scorn - Happy Birthday -

Here's my broken piece of Art
wrapped all nice and pretty and scented of the most pleasant smell -
It's just what you wanted isn't it?

Loosen up
Chill out
Make the best of your time instead of moping about -

Quit marching around -
only one of the many participating in Their Grand Plan -
Get the hell out of that gutter and move the way you want to

We all have a song, a beat, we move to
We may not agree but we walk a similar path -
Don't ask questions about Art

Just Do It.

I suppose I'm fairly upset because 1) I keep writing for ch.7 of YZ but it FAILS every single time and I have to start over 2) I'm caught between wanting to draw because I've got some people counting on me now (three or four - including myself since that was my first career choice) 3) It's super, super, super HOT and dry and we're trying to save electricity by not turning on the AC.

I'm caught between a crossroads and I'm not sure what to do. One side says write, the other says draw, going forward means I'm stalling till I get to another crossroads and, who knows? That might be the last time I get to stall my way through? *sighs*

Anywho, I found this site where a published writer gives advice (here). I thought it was pretty helpful. :) Oh. And here's something I'm reading at the moment.

One last thought - I was thinking of starting a sketch blog of some sort. you know, take pictures (or scan but mine isn't working) of things that were drawn and post it for everyone to see. I really do draw a lot but never upload them to sites like deviantArt if it isn't finished in some way. And I do not like uploading sketches either - it looks like crap since it's like an online gallery/portfolio.

Ah, there's my thoughts for tonight.

"So what did you do this weekend?"

"Hmm, let's see. First I interviewed a psychopathic serial killer. Then I killed some people after breaking into their houses at, what, 3-4 am - can't remember - anyway, chopped the kid up, sewed'em back together... Ehh. Let's see, what else? Oh! I also managed to go to the airport, get seriously bored, troubled, then board the plane -"

"... What?"

"The plane thing? Oh I'm trying, honestly, but my handwriting's crap - can't read a thing..."

They leave.

"So what did you do this weekend?"

"Ate, slept, drank and wrote like hell on my computer till it was five in the morning."

"That's nice."

"Indeed."

"Anything else? Did you ever go outside maybe?"

"I think I did but I can't remember."

"Ookay... I'll see you later."

That was pretty much what I wanted to say as for today.

Well that and I'm sleepy. Later I'll check out everbody's posts and reply to comments - all that stuff you know. :)

...That was a pretty useless post.

A very image heavy post...and the pictures are big (the ones I took so don't bother clicking if your computer's known to be slow).


I don't know about you but cemeteries and statues fascinate me. If ever I went into a cemetery (which I have) I would take my camera...but I'd rather not. People might think it disrespectful (and it probably is)...



So why do I have pictures up? Well I finally found the usb cord for my camera so here's some more pictures - like my desk >.>


So there you have my desk...now for my desktop -

For the sake of something not as long-winded as the last post - It was unexpected but I suddenly wanted to explore some Victorian era stuff. Try and figure out who the narrator is. :)

...where your muse takes you rollerblading? But you have no idea how to roller blade so your muse lets go of your hand and you crash into a big wet pile of leaves? Though you can't deny that while your muse was with you, you were enjoying the ride. You know...the wind, the breeze, a feeling similar to flight - cloud nine - before you realize that you don't want to move your knees else you'd lose balance and fall.

Well, after that fall, you're exhausted. And if you didn't have knee pads you'd have nicked your knees, or if you skidded across the neighbor's lawn, you'd have grass stains - or both. All in all you're tired and beaten, fumbling with the straps of the confounded contraption on your feet, and you curse for it seems that your muse has ditched you so it wouldn't appear to be the one at fault.

So where does that leave me?

Late last night, my muse gave me those roller blades. It was a fun ride that lasted...hmm...from sometime past midnight to 7 or 8 in the morning. And what I got was chapter seven in longhand and a sense of accomplishment for finally starting and finishing it.

So I closed the notebook and decided to sleep. Didn't work out. I ended up getting something to eat and later drank a gulp or two of sour milk... *shivers* Terrible stuff (and it wasn't even past the expiration yet). So I settled for oatmeal, after washing down the milk with flat coca-cola (it was better than nothing) and returned upstairs where I watched the news and Dr. Katz. Interesting morning? Quite. Later I turned off the television, opened the blinds (it was surprisingly cool and windy today) and read several chapters of Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones before finally sleeping.

...And here's something I should mention, yet I shouldn't, then again I feel I should.

I read aloud with the stereotypical British accent. Actually, whenever I talk (and there were instances at school) that accent slips out sometimes and I'd get these confused stares or laughter or questions. >.> Anywho, reading in that accent was kind of appropriate since...she was a British author...but anyway, it was a fun morning. BUT, I was told to wake up "early" because that day I had to go and get my senior photo taken...which led to my mother and I going around town to eat something, window shop and watch Year One (the one with Jack Black and Michael Cera) before heading home with dinner and a smoothie... Of course, I wasn't totally zombified due to lack of sleep - there was a time where I hadn't slept for thirty to forty somewhat hours and I was as lame as a manila folder taped to a beige wall...

So it has been a full day and I'm going to read in my faux accent and sleep - and then type out the chapter starting tomorrow.

And for some personal thoughts...

Lately I've been yearning to return to my fantasy writer self and have, all during Year Zero, been dabbling with the world of a project I started in middle school - the title of my blog - Ephemeral Wings. I suppose it's my life project because it was the first serious thing I tried to do after writing a horrid fanfic and even more terrible beginner stories... But now, after years of contemplating and putting it off because it just didn't seem original enough.... I started writing a few days ago and found myslef more involved and in love with the story.

And then, with that love churning out more ideas and making me type, I realized that that story would have to have sequels. Then that led me to Year Zero and that it too would have to have a sequel to it too since there are certain characters I want to explore. But I suppose I'll have to ask the readers about that - if they would like a full out sequel or one shots regarding a single character (good thing Wordpress has polls). But that's far off in the future...

Then that led me to the vampire story - but that won't have a sequel, oh no - but it became a longer project when it was first conceived in the dregs of summer 07.

And then there are the other projects under my belt - especially one a friend/fellow author suggested.

As I list everything out it all sounds plain overwhelming and stressful and complicated with all these characters wanting their story told, but, the more I laid out Ephemeral Wings and the more I worked on Year Zero, the more it became apparent to me that some of those characters were merely a deviation of the original characters I planned for my original story. And with all the years of not working on it, those characters changed and made their own paths the more I read and drew, taking in differing influences all the while.

So, in the end, there might not be a lot on my plate after all. I'm learning to choose my battles carefully now because I thrived on what was "in" at the moment.

Here's a visual -


I am cannibal cake no more! Huzzah! *laughs in a triumphant and dramatic way*

...That cake is pretty creepy but it would be awesome to have one just like it one day.