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I'm not ready for the new year.

In other news, I started scripting a comic today. Weird, crazy stuff. Celtx is my savior.

Happy New Year to you and yours. I'll still be here, trying to figure things out.

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Featured Teen Writer!

I'm immensely pleased and surprised and happy to say that I've been chosen as the first featured teen writer on this intriguing website. The actual launch date isn't until the 1st of January, 2009, but the link to my blog is up, as well as some very interesting content. I recommend you check it out. :D

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One of those untitled ones

It's times like these when I wish
I weren't human.
Times like these that make me
want to end it all, but at the same time
pray it never stops.

It's times like these when
I can't bear to meet your eyes.

Shamed, but I shouldn't be.
At least, that's what you tell me.
Only social animals feel shame. Remorse.
Guilt.
But I'm not an animal,
I'm human--

The worst kind.



(P.S. Battlestar Galactica Season Two finale? My. Brain. Exploded.)

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The Problem with Christmas...

...is that it's lost it's significance. At least, for me it has. I mean, sure, I came away with a lot of rockin' stuff (Dr. Horrible AND The Dark Knight? Win. All that's missing is my Scotsman in a kilt!), but at the same time...

Everyone always goes on about family and peace and whatever this time of year. But to be entirely honest, I can't stand my family anymore. My parents, anyway. I suppose they're tolerable at times, but this place... I'd rather not be here. Not to mention that today I get hit with another bout of my depression. -sigh- Curling up in the dark has never sounded so good...

Here's hoping your Christmas was better than mine. Have a good one.

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Silence

I was going to post something I wrote earlier that's one-hundred percent truth, yet presented as fiction (appropriate considering the name of my blog, no?), but it's a bit too personal and not very good, anyway. I guess I could talk about how, with the exception of two moments, I've not experienced any of this mystical holiday cheer that seems to well up this time of year; how I've grown to strongly dislike Christmas and the "holiday season" in general. But I want to talk about something else instead.

Last night, I watched a Buffy episode called "Hush" for the first time. I'm not entirely sure how many of you that read this are familiar with Buffy, but this episode is the epitome of creepy. Creepy, jump-and-grab-hold-of-the-person-sitting-next-to-you-and-try-not-to-whimper-in-fear sort of creepy. And heart-snatching monsters aside, what really freaked me out was the fact that it was silent. The basic premise of the episode is that, one day, an entire city wakes up unable to speak. And, to me, that is horrifying.

I've never really known what a deep-rooted fear this is for me. To be honest, I think it first hit me about a month ago, when my friend put his hand over my mouth as I was saying something. It was odd, not because it happened in the first place, but in the fact that it unsettled me so. You see, I'm the shy, quiet, keep-to-myself type, except with close friends. I'm independent, and generally don't work well in groups. I have a fear of public speaking. And I suppose you could say I'm a wall-flower, but I'm not too sure about that one anymore.

So it's in my nature to be quiet. It's not like I'm saying that silence is a bad thing, either. Silence can be quite comforting, given the appropriate circumstances. But the nice thing about silence is that it can be broken, that one can simply open one's mouth and speak, eradicating the silence, the quiet. We take this for granted, I think. It's a fact of life. Humans are social, highly-communicative animals, and as such, it's in our nature to make noise, to communicate our pleasures and displeasures, to say what's on our mind.

But there's a difference between choosing to be quiet, and having that choice be taken from you. Forcibly. And that is what I'm afraid of. Being unable to express myself, when I feel like it. To be silenced, not merely silent.

Just something for you to think about.

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Genius.

So.... I was going to do the meme that Cuileann recently tagged me in, but I decided that I'm going to hold off on that and post this instead.

http://www.cracked.com/article_16878_if-twilight-was-10-time-shorter-100-times-more-honest.html

Enjoy. It's hilariously wonderful.

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Fridays

I usually don't like Fridays. But this one has taken the cake for the best in quite a while.

A list of some of the better things I encountered or took part in today:

- my favorite weather (and the full moon!)
- questionable conversations
- library studyroom parties
- cookies
- gnome t-shirts
- thrift store curiosities
- Christmas caroling
- driveway campfires
- Lord of the Rings references
- great stories
- Shan the sitar man
- lots and lots of laughter

Hope your day was as great as mine. <3

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"Bleed"

A couple hours ago I started looking through all the poetry I've written this year, because the final for my creative writing class is to pick a piece (poem or short story) and read it aloud to the class. My thought was to pick a poem, even though they're not really my strong point, because, to be entirely honest with you, the thought of a poetry reading is way cooler to me than just reading some short story.

So I started sifting through my files. I've really grown as a poet, I feel. When I compare the poetry I wrote over the past few months to those from earlier this year, I'm really amazed at the difference. That, and it slaps me in the face to realize what an emo, angsty, love-sick teen girl I was before this summer. Reader, if you've stuck with me all this time through that, you deserve a massive hug and cookies.

All of the poems were familiar to me. I remembered them, remembered writing them, what state of mind I was in at the time. All, that is, except one.

This one was written relatively recently; exactly a month ago, in fact. I didn't even remember writing a poem in November when I saw the date on the file. Curious, wondering if I had mislabeled something by mistake, I clicked on the file and started to read.

It was like reading it for the first time.

I sat with wide eyes and typed my shock at Morgan into the little AIM window of the conversation we were having. This poem was good. And I had completely forgotten about it.

After reading, I remembered writing it again. It all came back to me in a flood, gentle, persistent. I remembered thinking it was a piece of crap and deciding that no one would read it, ever. I remembered being a mess of floaty and nerves and breathlessness. I remembered sitting down at my computer with headphones in my ears because my younger siblings were watching High School Musical 2. I remembered wrestling with myself, struggling to put how I felt onto the page in a legible, intelligible manner.

I guess I succeeded.

So now, I'd like for you to read this, and to give me your honest opinion on it. There's nothing I love more than honest opinion. Except maybe ice cream. And puppies. ....Anyway.

“Bleed”

It’s all a dream to me.

But it’s there, waiting, lurking,
Sometimes in the forefront of my mind,
Screaming for attention, nagging,
Begging until it sends me over the edge.

At other times, it merely flickers,
Wandering like a moth across the movie screen
While moving pictures in black and white
Dance in an aching, twisting manner all night long.

And then, I’m awake, and
It’s only clear when you’re right next to me,
With your body pressed against mine,
Whispering in my ears.
It’s only then that I can taste you, smell you,
It’s only then that the words we exchange actually mean something,
Something tangible that I can reach out and touch,
and taste,
and kiss,
and feel.

I live in a perpetual state of denial.

But your fingers are there, physical, aching,
Searching, making me
Bleed.

There’s pain, but at the same time, a meaning, a reason.

And we sing together about “being alive”
But it’s one thing to sing, and another to know.

I’m dancing on the cusp of knowing and not,
of ignorance, and stupidity, and rash decision, and
Beauty.

Chaos, and coldness, and turmoil, and cries in the near-dark.
It melds together, swirling, aching.
Always aching.

Life is all ache—
there’s not much else I can ask for.

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Pardon my Guilty Pleasure

One of my guilty pleasures is looking at wedding dresses. They are just so amazingly gorgeous.

That being said, when I get married to my Scotsman, this is the dress I am going to wear.

Yeah. You can be jealous now. ;)

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Concerning Winter

To be completely honest, I have not been enjoying today. Today's the sort of day that I've come to loathe and fear and despise, yet can't seem to shake once Winter hits.

Today's the sort of day where you wake up exhausted, agitated, and wanting something you can't have. Today's the sort of day where you snap at people purely because they're there. Today's the sort of day where all you want to do is curl up in bed and hope you never wake up again.

Today's the sort of day where you stare aimlessly out the car window at the grey clouds overhead, looking for the sun that doesn't come. Today's the sort of day where you fake a smile because you don't feel like dealing with other people's misplaced sympathy. Today's the sort of day where you are in a room full of people, yet you feel completely alone.

Today's the sort of day where you blast The Rocket Summer until your eardrums are ready to burst because all you want to do is feel something besides the numbing sadness, but it doesn't work. Today's the sort of day where you question your life and existence, where you wonder if it's even worth it anymore. Today's the sort of day where you regret all the things you haven't done, where you want to make a difference before it's too late.

Today's the sort of day when you feel like crying for no reason at all, or every reason imaginable.

But that's beside the point.

I hate Winter. I really, truly do. And it's not that I randomly hate on Winter just for the hell of it. But I've said this before.

So to prove this, here's my list of Winter's top ten redeeming qualities (not in any particular order):

1. crisp air
2. bright stars
3. frost on the lawn in the morning
4. delicious food
5. scarves
6. hot chocolate
7. Christmas Eve
8. Winter Break
9. my birthday
10. presents

See? I don't hate on Winter. If anything, Winter hates on me...

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It's a little after 1 am on December 1, 2008. I sit here in this almost-too-stuffed armchair recliner, the lamp beside me turned on, with the dark creeping in from everywhere else. Silence fills my ears. I'm floored.

Why?

Because I've just read one of the most heart-shatteringly beautiful, achingly-poetic, utterly human things I've ever come across. It makes me want to cry.

But I can't share it with you.

Just be satisfied in the knowledge that you, no matter what your situation, are not the only one experiencing whatever might be plaguing you right now, good or bad. Things happen to people. Surprising things. Dark things. Secret things.

But that's the beauty and the pain of life. Knowing you're not alone in its pain and its beauty.

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