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13 April 2011 @ 03:54 am

Hey to all of you out there. Some of you have kind of gotten to know me for quite some time, reading whatever I happen to throw at this journal. If you're new, you could have picked a better moment to intervene but that is okay. Stick around until you get bored.

I don't know how many of you know this or have caught on but I have a chronic case of MDD, or Major Depressive Disorder. Sometimes it is nearly nonexistent and others incredibily severe. Sometimes I forget I have it. Other times I feel like my mind is diseased and some type of negativity has hijacked my entire body, soul, brain, everything. It's like I can't escape and my every hope is held hostage to this angry, irritable, terrifying I don't know if it is a person, side of my self, glitch, or a kind of a virus that just gets control when my system is vulnerable.

But it shows me terrifying things.  Things I could do to myself. Images of death, gore, dying, decay, any image that you would be shocked at on a film screen suddenly becomes native to my own mind. I can't get out. It takes away my every word and speaks terrible, terrible things for me. It pushes people away and I just break down.

Normally I am incredibly motivated. It cuts me off at the knees. The only thought that is my own, the only part of me that is left during this captive struggle is Jesus just let me die, let me die. I want to fucking die already. There is no hope in life. Everything is gray at best, black at worst.

Everything about me is to fault. I'm suspicious of others and know they will let me down or put me down or show me something incredibly faulty about myself. Everybody has a gun and I am a target and a villain, all at the same time. I can't get close to anybody, anything. I can't speak, can't think. I can just stare at the computer screen.

I feel like I am losing my ever-loving mind and any moments of sanity or rationale are fleeting. I try to call to myself, try to get rid of the shadow eclipsing my soul and emerge from the black waters filling my lungs and the pressure and gravity destroying every attempt at saving myself. I just get heavier and heavier and I know there is a black hole at the bottom of that ocean and I always make it above water and to shore. But every time I get closer to sinking into that hole and I know one day it is going to happen. One day it's going to swallow me and that will be the point beyond no return. I'll drown and the only thing that will be left of me will be a body and a shadow of myself. And even now I feel that shadow just behind me, beginning to wash over my heels. And I'm terrified of it and frantically trying to escape it and so tired that I'm surrendering to it, all at the same time.

And to me that is death. Death isn't the death of your body. That's just a machine shutting down. That's just a body that has stopped working. But when the soul gives in, when it sinks and drowns, that's a terrible death, a death I feel more and more every day of my fucking life. I don't even know who I am anymore. I don't even know that girl that was smiling yesterday, who was successful, who was everything I'm not. She had people fooled. I'm just a shadow.
 
 
30 December 2010 @ 06:34 pm


This follows a previous entry. You can find it here: http://shoelace009.livejournal.com/102324.html .
I think it is better if you read the entry but you don't have to in order to get it.

---

Heat seared towards me on the tails of red sparks. I was in the wrong end of a firework shot towards the ground rather than away from it. It felt like one of those moments you see in an apocalypse movie. I was going to die. We all were. But when I looked up at the woman, I noticed her eyes for the first time. Large, but not in a looming kind of way. They were black but a gentle black with a twinkle, like a diamond sat in each of them. You'd think she would have realized what she had done. You'd think there would be an expression of guilt, or at least one of panic. But nothing. She just waited.

And then the shower fell to the earth all around the awning. It looked like handfuls of sparklers falling to the ground and extinguishing in puddles. Steam curled up in snakelike tendrils from where each spark had landed. There was some hissing for a bit and then nothing. Silence except for a dented pop can being pushed across the pavement down the street.

I thought that when I looked up she would be gone, like she had never been there. Just a constellation outlining a shape I had imagined. But she was, and was staring down at me knowlingly, like we had known each other my whole life. She smiled and I saw rows of pearls, real pearls.

Arori, I thought. I didn't understand where that came from. My name is Arori. I looked over my shoulder for somebody. Up here. She smiled again.

"Oh." Very eloquent response of course.

She nodded and turned away from me, spreading pink, orange, and yellow across the sky. It was most vibrant in the east and faded out into the west where she sat on the silver edge. Goodnight. But, it's almost morning. I heard a laugh that sounded like a short melody. Maybe for you.

The lady waved a few multicolored fingers then hung onto the moon as it flipped around and the sun began to rise above a cloud like a child slowly peering out from under the blankets in the morning.

[Possibly to be continued.]
 
 
14 September 2010 @ 02:27 pm

How can you be there? How can you be there and not really be there?

You're there. I see you, sitting there in all your glory, well maybe in all your reality because I never saw any glory ever in my own life, in you or anybody else. But you sit there, in your whatever it is, and you're not there. Physically, yes. But that has never been enough. Just as a soul cannot go anywhere without its body, a body is nothing without the soul that holds it up.

You're there but you're not really there. I see you but I don't see the you that I know, that I love. You're there, but you're not really there for me. You're there for the approval of others, the admiration of others, the respect of others, but not for me.

Selfish, yeah maybe it is. Screwed up, yeah maybe I am. Maybe I'm a lot of things. But all of those things, those are how you feel and feelings are not rational so you cannot apologize for them.

So when I say leave because I'm not getting what I need, leave because your presence upsets me more than helps me, I'm not going to apologize for it. We're just two people on two trains, heading in different directions. We had different starting points so we passed each other. But that passing was moments ago and now we're looking back. It's slowly getting harder to see you and the ache that comes from craining my neck to do so is starting to gnaw at me. I'm reading to accept where my train is going and where your's isn't. So you're not here anymore and that's my choice.

Simple as that. Two trains. Two people. Two ends.


 
 
10 November 2009 @ 11:19 pm
Title: Writers' Block: The Great Myth
Summary: ... since I began writing, I've heard many different people exclaim "What shall I do? The horrid Overlord Writer's Block doth wound me greviously!"

Down the Rabbit Hole, Alice


 
 
10 November 2009 @ 02:00 am
A Simple Plotting Technique

Here's a simple plotting technique you can use to organize your novel!

 
 
 
06 November 2009 @ 11:32 pm
Title: Making Clay
Genre: Writers on Writing
Summary: "...a great man once told me that writers write. Raw material won't come to you in a flash of inspiration and no-one will make it for you."

Down the Rabbit Hole, Alice




Title: Resources for Writiers
Summary: A listing of my favorite software and books directed towards writers on the internet; click and see what you might find!

Down the Rabbit Hole, Alice

 
 
01 September 2009 @ 01:10 am

I have no special place,
a ghost without a home.
A vagabond, a wanderer,
a lost soul made to roam.
No solace under a great oak tree,
no freedom among the radiant wildflowers.
I have a broken mirror,
an empty hallway,
a vacant lot where I stand,
steam sizzling off busted black concrete,
burning flat feet
and urging them on.
Sanctuary is the broken air in my lungs,
the tired treading of restless feet.
Sanctuary is not buried or plotted,
but ashen, blackened, and scattered to the winds.


 
 
28 July 2009 @ 06:40 pm

Ok so this was an experiment. I looked up the titles of a bunch of Vertical Horizon songs, wrote them down on a list in an order, and tried to write an entire piece just going from thought to thought and title to title. It was sort of spontaneous. It's relatively short, just something I wanted to try.
---

A note to you.

I'm clearly not everything you want. I understand that. You're the best I have ever had. To me you were always really more of a god, something that was never tangible no matter how hard I gripped your hands or securely held your arms or long I kept your lips. No shackle proved strong enough and that's ok because I'm still here. And you're not. And I've learned that that's ok because you fleetingly change like a muse and more than anything you're a shooting star, the one that leaves all the other stars behind; and as terrible as that is to feel, it's a terrible beauty because that fact that you're shooting through my life like a bullet or some sort of canon ball designed to leave the foundations as they are but completely useless in function, is what makes you beautiful. It's rooted in your nature and unraveling that thread from all the others to keep you will destroy just what I'm fighting so hard to keep.

So this is my resignation. An understanding resignation devoid of bitterness but a resignation all the same. Goodbye again. As much as you are a woman and strong and independent this really is the story of a girl who will never grow old or change and that's fine. Once you catch wildlife and catch it the beauty of the freedom it once held dwindles and all you have left is a crushed soul. And as much as I love that soaring, racing, stubbornly independent wildlife, capturing and imprisoning it is too vile for me. So while I'm tempted I'm going to do this to save me from myself.

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16 July 2009 @ 04:29 pm
Title: The Last Apprentice: Battle of the Heart // Sleepless night
Series: The Last Apprentice
Genre: Fantasy
Characters: Tomas Ward, John Gregory (The Spook), others.
Pairings: Mainly Alice and Tom.
Rating: PG for now, but further chapters may vary
Disclaimer: All Rights Reserved. I am not Joesph Delaney
Other: This takes place after the most recent book, Wrath of the Bloodeye
Summary of Chapter: "Ah, you're a smart lad, aren't you." Mr. Gregory let out a soft chuckle. I didn't smile. "As a matter of fact, we do have a few things to settle. There is some trouble in Charington with a nomadic Deane witch clan. They supposively are controlling Boggarts in that area to do their dirty work. We're going to have to set them straight, boy!



I : Sleepless NightCollapse )

*Notes: Charington is a place I made up. This will most likely never happened in any of Joesph's books. If it does, he cannot sue me because I didn't know. Also, I might just freak out!

For the first updates of the next chapter; come to my journal.
 
 
08 June 2009 @ 06:34 pm
"I just don't wanna be here, Andrew." She said, staring out the window with a pained expression.

"Why?"

She dug her shoulder further into the wall and pivoted around on it, just enough so he could see half of her face. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know."

"Well that's a great reason to do something, because you don't know."

"No it's not but it's better than doing nothing."

"I guess so." He bit the inside of his cheek and stared out the other window at yellow puddles then red from the changing traffic light. He became entranced by it like a beacon of some sort.

She sighed, staring at the same rain-filled potholes with somber brown eyes. "It's really not. I'm just so frustrated. With everything. My life here and my job and school and him. Five years ago this isn't where I wanted my life to be, at all. Just somewhere I got lost in the problems outside of me and, well the ones inside of me as well."

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