Its amazing really how things can turn on a person. Here it is 1:41 in the morning on the first day of the New Year, and all I've got to write is the "woe-is-me" blues. I'd like to think that there's a purpose here to this entry in the end, however, I imagine it will be anything but.

I found myself tonight sitting slightly hunched over in my bed, staring up at my hideous popcorn ceiling, and realizing just how alone I am. All the people I love are partying it hardy or sleeping peacefully. I had been talking with someone on the phone, but that person too fell to the lullaby of slumber. As I sat there with a silent phone pressed to my ear some stupid ass tears began falling down my face. So, naturally, I started laughing silently to myself.

I'd like to think that everyone experiences acts complete and utter loneliness. I've had my fair share of that this past little while. I have come to a stand still in my life as the others around me have moved forward onto more important things, and I couldn't be happier or more proud. But, at the same time, I feel like the girl in a prom dress who just realized she'd been ditched for a cooler, sexier girl for the dance.

Logic says move forward as well. However, in this case I feel the need to tell logic to shove it. Forcing change for idiotic reasons such as feeling alone is reckless, absurd, and dangerous depending on your luck. Yes, I am alone and slightly tearful wishing for things that will most likely not happen. But it will fade given enough time, and there's no need running off that cliff when the others have a bridge to catch them.

"What's the point of the title then, Lady?"

Good question.

After watching the clock click over from one year to the next, I let my mind off the leash so as not to let the depressing moment get to me. Two songs came into view - "Hey There Lonely Girl" by Eddie Holman of The Delfonics and "One For My Baby (One More For The Road)" by Frank Sinatra. I excluded first as being too upbeat, leaving me to running the lyrics of the later through my head like a jukebox.

I imagined myself in a smoky joint, sitting at the bar with a half empty glass of whiskey in my hand. The place is mostly empty as the well-wishers of the new year have gone off to more festive locals. Joe the Bartender is drying off a glass with an extra towel slung over his shoulder. He gives me a nod as if sensing the gloomy mood. I nod back with a horrible excuse for a smile, thinking of someone I wish I could be with only to find myself alone once again.

Suddenly, the jukebox in the corner kicks on. A regular drunk has gotten into a musical mood deciding that Ol' Blue Eyes will help cure his troubles. The bare, lazy notes of the piano introduce the dark tone. I close my sad, tired eyes and sigh, absorbing the words that seem to mimic too much of reality not to be taken seriously.

The year of 2008 is slowly but surely coming to a close.

This is one of those times that I wished I had something momentous to say to the world. Hell, even to myself. Time flies by way too fast when you least expect it, but has a tendency to slow down to molasses when it gets in a mood. I've experienced a bit of both, but I do not regret a minute of it for I have come to learn my things about this year.

Surprised was I to find out I am capable of the love I never thought would reach me.

Through one major slip of the keyboard, I found a man who makes me smile just thinking about him. If this relationship should stretch beyond my furtherest dream or should slowly fade away, I know my love for him will forever be in my heart. He is my best friend, and I am everyday thankful to be given granted such a blessing of knowing him.

Betrayal by someone you once thought of as a hero is bittersweet pill to swallow. There are times when looking up to someone in admiration, you can forget how human they are. He is my blood, he is my family, and even through all the anger and hurt I pray he will come back one day.

My love for learning should not be clouded by my degree. If I ever needed a reminder of that, I got it this year. Learning is far more important than getting a stupid ass piece of paper declaring what I've known for a long time. There are millions of people in this world smart and brilliant and are cut down for attempting to get a degree. It is a momentous achievement, but it does not define us as people. As Joesph Campbell once said, "Follow your bliss."

The two sacks of muscle known as lungs will always be my Achilles' Heel. However, they are mine and I will not let them rule my life. I will not each breath granted, nor will I let them stop me from doing what I need to do. I am above my illnesses. I am beyond each of my scars, everything bit of damage ever inflicted on my body, every flaw that marks my skin. I am beautiful in my hideousness.

There are no New Year's resolutions this year. More times than not they resolutions haven't been met, and I have come to understand I do not believe in promises or hold expectations. But, I do have goals for 2009 - things of which I pray I can achieve.

Great song. Awesome title. Captures the sentiment of my life/mood at the moment.

Life is somewhat screwed up right now. I could tell you the basics but that's too personal. So, to distract my troubled mind I've found something useless to do. Here is the challenge issued in a random blog bulletin on the MySpace homepage -- Hit "Generate Playlist" on your mp3 player or music engine and see what it says about you at the moment. List the first 30 (playlist selects 75 on mine). No skips. No deletes. No repeats.

Its lik a musical mp3 fortune cookie... damn am I pathetic. Here's my fortune cookie playlist, but keep in mind that I've been helping my five year old little brother Z with his newly acquired Rock Band system while he's been recouping from a terrible ear ache... wow, I have no life.

Okay, so I'm not brain dead just brain scrambled.

That's alright. Really. I can deal with that for sure. It just means that I won't be making sense for a while instead for small bouts of time in five minute intervals. That doesn't bother people too much, right? Right. Okay. I can do this... so here's the random of me so far:

I was very close to catching up with my campfires. I mean single digit numbers. Then a dump truck full of "Your Turn" notices unloaded themselves in my email. That's cool though. I'll get them done. I can feel the fire burning to get the campfires done again. It feels good to have the sensation back.

The first round of my contest "The Elementalist Contest"  closes on Sunday. I'm thrilled! There has been tons of entries this first time around, which I hope will lead to a successful contest that runs for a long while. I have a lot of reading to get through on Monday, but I'm happy to do it. Not only do I get to read some great stuff and work on my reviewing skills, I also get to recognize some excellent work.

Opened up my first auction ("Invalid Item"  and my shoppe ("Invalid Item" ) today. For the auction, I have my fingers crossed that it will work out with huge, fantastic, asteroid size results and winnings. The main portion of the profits goes to helping some great writers and friends of mine here on WDC whose upgrades are about run out in the next couple of months. Not only do I want this to be good, I need this to be good. If this works though I think I'll start a monthly auction called "Save A Writer!"... but I'm getting way ahead of myself here.

My shoppe is pretty cool if I do say so myself. *brushes imaginary lint off my shoulder* Its another way to earn some gift points to help pay for things, but really I'm doing it for the experience. I'm a geek. A moody, sarcastic, slightly hobbit-sized, music eccentric crazed geek, but a geek none the less. Research is my thing, and if it starts lively discussion, the more the better. Got my first order today too, which I'm excited to get started on. The Squiress is coming to a city near you. Brace yourselves.

Blogging has been an odd experience lately. I've been doing well with the 31-Day Journal Challenge, even came up with the prompt yesterday, but on here its been wonky. I've attempted to write several different blog entries about Arthurian legends, favorite children's books, exceptional speculative fiction here on the site, etc. But, usually, a quarter of the way through it I stop and trash it. Again, I blame the brain scamble. One of these days I'll get things back on track.

On a more personal note, my family has gone to the dogs, but who can't say that about their fam during the holidays? I won't go into details as I've come to learn that "loose lips sink ships", but decisive to say I'm beyond bloody piss at one of my older brothers. Pretty sure, at some point, once I find him, I'm going to kick his ass. And I'm not being playful either. Its the best way I can see to spread the holiday freakin' cheer this year.

Recently, I've immersed myself in country and mullet rock. I don't know if I'm feeling the need to go back and reminisce about my childhood memories of Bakersfield, and the country side, and the smell of cow poo, and what have you, but there it is. Suddenly my music playlists once filled with Mos Def, Jimi Hendrix, Fredrick Chopin, Django Reinhardt, System of a Down and Frank Sinatra are now being replaced with Mountain, Brooks & Dunn, Shania Twain, Craig Morgan and the Dixie Chicks. Maybe I have lost my mind...

Also, I've recently discovered my odd obsession with commas and exclamation points in my writing. The comma thing I've had since forever but exclamation points? I'm not even that loud or happy. What's with that?

*sighs*

Well, here's the collection of randomness that is my life at moment. Another task done. Now off to listen to "Whiskey Lullaby". Don't judge me.
 

I'm close. I can see it in the distance. One more day and I'm finished for the semester.

Must... keep... going...

Actually, its not that bad. Gave an interesting *cough* presentation yesterday and handed in my term paper. Final projects are due next week during Finals and then I'm done. All it took was an all-nighter of about thirty-seven hours but the end is near...

Except, I can't sleep. Nine large cups of strip-the-paint-off-a-'67-Mustang (but why would you?) type of coffee is still floating around in my blood stream. I caught a few zzz's at exactly the wrong time, and when I woke a couple of hours later I couldn't hit the internal snooze again.

Its really sad I'm this pathetic.
 

I am currently on my fifth cup of coffee today. That's just today, not including that yesterday which I'm pretty sure hit four. If I count tomorrow now then I'm hitting an average of four cups a day and will probably surpass that number by double before I can sleep after my class is done.

Its getting to me like a slow, lingering nightmare.

I take my coffee pretty black with a dash of non-dairy creamer and a packet of Splenda. I figure if I add the extras it'll dull down the jitters that'll pop up any minute now. Usually I take is black as sin or so doped up on cream and sugar you can barely tell its coffee. It all depends on my mood. But tonight I need the caffeine like an addict needs a fix so...

You might be asking, why?

Its Finals week. I, personally, with the grace of the Almighty Upstairs, don't have to take them this semester. My professor has other four courses to teach and has decided that presentations are better than grading more papers. But still, when there's a Final there's a paper. And the paper is kicking my ass.

It shouldn't. In fact it never does, and the topic I have is a piece of cake, and the length is minuscule compared to other papers I've had in the past. So, again, why? I have come to the realization that I don't care. About any of it. Even failing.

Usually this happens in high school. I missed that part, which is sad seeing as this has more barring on my life than those four years of hell. But I can't seem to find my "keep fighting" determination. Haven't for the past couple of months. I blame it on the surgery. They removed it when while they were digging so close to my brain, damn them... joking (sort of).

The fact that I have gotten anything done astounds me. But I know its because of two people - my beloved and my mother. Whatever *this* is, they still have helped me - push me is more like it - to the finish line. Its why I love them so much. What better way to keep going when you hear words like, "Hey, you're a dork but I love you anyway. I'm here to help you through this." The wonderful words of best friends.

It'll all end tomorrow around 7:00 PM Pacific Standard Time. Then I can sleep. Then I can have this freaking class and everything with it off my shoulders. The semester will be over (save one more class) and I will be released from the chains of oppression! I will have earned my educational due for the year 2008! It will be done!

And then I'll pick my classes for next semester on Wednesday. Coffee anyone?
 

One of the first things I got into heavily on WDC was campfires. They fascinated me in the way different authors came together and created such an in-depth, moving story. I joined my first campfire which is sadly now defunct but other campfires have been up and burning for a while now which is awesome especially to read.

Check these ones out to read and join if you get the inclination:

ID: 1418391   (Rated: 18+) Battle for Earth  This is a story about people given power from a meteor shower. by Lonewolf - Catching up

ID: 1393193   (Rated: 18+) Curse of Silence  Guilty of nothing but silence and sadness. There is a sense of injustice that cries out. by LdyPhoenix

ID: 1363849 Invalid Item  This item number is not valid. by Not Available.

ID: 1429989   (Rated: 18+) Phantom of the Opera- a different story  Same as The Phantom of the Opera, only twisted by 18th century Princess

ID: 883275   (Rated: 18+) Ever Onwards  When you're still alone even after high school by Matt - Nomad

ID: 1377954   (Rated: 18+) Falls The Shadow  The world's ending was their beginning. by LdyPhoenix

I was informed via overhearing a conversation between my mom and my love that I am not Superwoman. Well, damn. And here I was sitting around in a red, white and blue spangled leotard with bullet-repelling bracelets for nothing. Where in the world am I going to put my invisible plane now?

*Sighs*

OT: Post for the first prompt of the 31-Day Journal Contest. You can check it out here: "Get Me Through December" .

May the people of Mumbai rest in peace tonight. Happy World AIDS day.

EDIT 12/04: Writing without sleep has muddled my mind. I completely mixed up Wonder Woman and Superwoman. To hide my embarrassment I should delete this but the error is already out there as a good friend of mine has decided to laugh in face about it, calling me a freak. I'm not going to name names *cough - Lonewolf - Catching up *. Sooo... I'm a dufus and feel ashamed given my comic book upbringing. Mea culpa.
 

It's raining, my favorite time of year. The sound of the rain hitting the pavement outside my window fills me with bliss and hope. The rains bring a new sense of beginning, cleansing the land and air from dirt and soot as the fires rage in the hills. It is Nature's purity system, beautiful with its simplicity and meaning. I might be able to sleep tonight.

Tonight's been good. There is no and every reason for it to be both. My fever spiked tonight, leaving me no choice but to say home for class as to not infect my classmates. Angry vegans with sharpened pencils coming at my direction is not a pretty picture. But I talked to with my love, and chilled with my mom, had a philosophical conversation with my father, and picked out non-sense but intriguing classes for next semester.

Suddenly, I have found myself looking for to the next coming months without dread. Completely unheard for me. My mother and father had a conversation (nearly died hearing the news) about me possibly going through a burn-out. After fighting the concept for half a decade I think I finally agree with them. Mind fried, bodily fatigued, I want nothing more than a slice of serenity like a piece of freshly baked pumpkin pie.

One day. It will all happen one day. Until then, I have to the rain to keep me company.

"The soul, secure in her existence, smiled at the drawn dagger and defies its point."


 

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My lungs are my weakness, my kryptonite. Every since I was a young one I've had lung issues. I talk my grandfather's philosophy to heart when he used to say, "I cried because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet." For most of the time they work, so no complaints from me.

Recently, I've been hit with another upper respiratory inflection. It has sucky timing, but thems the breaks. After hacking for two days with no sleep, I been doing the usual rounds of Prednisone and antibiotics. Not high on the fun scale. My head feels like its going to explode at any minute, my I-Don't-Give-A-Damn meter has spiked through the roof, and anything that looks like it contains sugar/carbohydrates is about to be eaten like Godzilla took Manhattan.

But I'm randomly good. Sick but good. Slightly yearning for death but good.

Semester is coming to close. Between surgery and sickness, I've only taking two classes this Fall. Feel like a slacker but only so much can be done while on bed rest. There was no zest this time, just nuisance. Shame really. Maybe next semester will be different.

Holiday time again. Should be interesting with the fam as always. Can't seem to find the Holiday spirit so I signed up for "Invalid Item"  to find some type of inspiration. Should be a different change of pace, journal entries actually making sense for a change.

Life is life. Good, Bad, or Indifferent. I think I need for Vitamin C...



 

I have boycotted Twilight.

Not because of some twisted morality bit or teen angst or whatever. Its the fact that everyone and their dog and hamster and bus driver seem to be talking about this freakin' movie like its the Second Coming. I mean, geez, people! Standing outside in freezing temperatures, for hours, waiting to see the first showing of a movie about vampires and teenage love which has been done time and time again... it's... it's insanity.

Here's the funny - I'd probably like the movie. I usually do, but I won't see it for a couple of years based on pure principle. Did the same with Da Vinci Code, Harry Potter, and High School Musical (haven't seen this one yet... my gag reflex still acts up at the mention of the name). But when everywhere I turn there's someone screaming about how good a movie or book is I automatically rebel, shouting at the top of my lungs "someone shoot me".

It's a natural reflex. Rather like flinching when getting punched in the arm.

I couldn't get into the book. There was something about the girl character (Bela, I believe) that felt like hot coals on my nerves. She pressed my annoy button one too many times for comfort. Given time I'll probably take another whack at it, but right now I want to hide out in a bomb shelter with a stack of Harlan Coben and Jennifer Crusie books, and wait out the Twilight bonanza that has overtaken the world.

*shuts door to bunker*

Someone tell me when its over.

"The soul, secure in her existence, smiled at the drawn dagger and defies its point."

.:LdyPhoenix:.
 

I'm tired. I've been tired for as long as I can remember. It is a fatigue that seeps deep into the bone, slowing the mind and draining each muscle in the body to the point where you don't want to move. The will to do things, things that are important and necessities, become an uphill battle. When it happens everyday, for years on end, you become accustomed to it. It is an old, mangy dog forever nipping at your heels.

Its not Chronic Fatigue. Its not Depression. Its simply me being an adult and being aware of that fact. I've had this feeling of tiredness since I was nine. I remember the moment it happened - a night filled of pain, tears and promise. One day, if I have to guts to do it, I'll write it out and spill the contents to the world.

This familiar ache I feel right now. My sphere is in chaos and deadlines pursue me like avid bill collectors. I need strength and energy, both of which are lacking at the moment. My muses are sleeping peacefully in their beds, slumbering in a place I have not been in ages. The coffee supply is depleted and the sugar will help me no longer. Will power is all that is left and even that is fleeting.

I want so much to write. To escape into the stories forever floating in my mind. Ironically, I will spend most of the night writing but not for pleasure. Instead, I tool away at my desk, slowly hacking at the term paper darkly looming on the horizon. But my eyes keep drifting towards the calendar. December is my salvation. It is the beginning and the end.

I keep telling my body, "One more month, you fool! You have fought much harder for much longer. Keep going. Keep moving!" But its harder this time. Twenty years breathing on this Earth yet I feel so old. The older I get, the harder it becomes. Its hard to think of the rest of my life from this point. To be honest, I never imagined I'd get this far.

So, as I get back to the grind of work, I think of December and plot lines, hot cocoa and a warm embrace still trapped miles away in the snow, closed text books and forgotten quilt squares, familial laughter and wishes for the New Year, inked stained fingers and dreams of a good night sleep that I have yet to achieve in this lifetime.

They are lovely thoughts to keep me going. Indeed, they are my fuel.

"The soul, secure in her existence, smiled at the drawn dagger and defies its point."

.:LdyPhoenix:.
 

We did it again!

Seriously, folks. I really don't get it. Why do keep doing the same stupid, bone-headed thing over and over again? Where did we in our right minds think it was okay to dictate what is considered morally right or wrong? When did we become God?

Being born and raised in the interesting *cough* state of California, I've been around the "pinkie, commie, libbers" all my life. Such issues as legalizing marijuana and lowering the age of consent and illegal immigrants are prominent over the breakfast table. But the big one these past few months has been the subject of gay marriage and rights. And we, as a state, have completely lost our minds.

Prop 8 was one the most ridiculous things I have ever read (and some of the other ones too). Restricting and denying the rights of any group of people is just plain wrong. When I found out Prop 8 had passed, I cringed and nearly threw up. Some many segments of what happened remind me of the laws before Loving v. Virgina when interracial couples were not allowed to be married. Have we not learned? Have we not gotten through our thick skulls that this type of exclusion is wrong?

When visiting my little brother up in Bakersfield, the fifth most conservative city in America, one of my favorite things to look at on the side of the road was Yes on Prop 8 signs and people with posters on street corners, shouting at the top of their lungs that if this law passed school children would be brainwashed into homosexuality. The line was "Save Your Children - Protect Marriage"... from what, the fifty percent divorce rate and single parenthood in this country?

I like to think of myself as a spiritual person who believes in God and the word. So I really don't understand where we get the idea that we can sanction love. What right do we have to say what love is or isn't? Two people, any two people, who have the commitment and the conviction to promise themselves in front of the Higher Power to love, honor, and cherish each other for the rest of time should be allowed to do so.

Or, like my father says, "I believe in equality for the masses. Gay couples should be allowed to suffer through the misery and sorrow of marriage and divorce like the rest of us heteros."

My dad everyone. Ever the optimist.
 

Definition of "Jumping the fence" - crossing boundary lines of race, religion, ethnicity, culture, economic status in order to pursue a relationship. (EX- Lookin' for love in all the wrong places)

For one of my college classes I'm writing a paper on interracial couples and the impact they've had on America through this country's conception. I chose this topic because it hits close to home. I am the product of an interracial union. The same can be said of my mother. And through my research into my family tree I can find many example of my ancestors jumping the fence.

The beautiful thing about it all is that everyone can say that about their family whether they want to believe it or not. We are all a wonderful mix of different cultures and backgrounds. Its what makes us unique and what brings us together.

So, in light of my paper and the new president, I pose these questions to anyone who comes across my blog.

Are you in or do you know someone in an interracial couple?

What are your thoughts on interracial couples?

Do you feel that interracial couples hold the same stigma they did say thirty years ago?

Do you think race matters when it comes to romantic relationships?

Are there any stories of interracial couples in your family?

Please give me your honest answers. Not only will your prospective give me insight to my paper it will also, quite possibly, start a discussion, which is how barriers are brought down.

>>>OT: On a brighter note, I pretty sure I'm freaked out my Secret Pal. My first time around and already I'm scarring people for life. *Hangs head and walks off in shame*
 

This past week has brought about great change in this country. The path of history that my grandparents foresaw in their future took a huge U-turn somewhere in South Carolina and headed back up North. I am extremely proud of the progress the people have made, not just in the choice of our new leader, but in the effort put. More people voted in this election than in the past elections of the past two decades. Statistics where only 33% of people under the age of 25 were likely to vote or participate in a campaign were completely shot to hell this past Tuesday. We have changed history in more ways than one.

But change is the one constant in life. And with it comes responsibility.

Too often people forget the past mistakes we've made as ruling parties. This nation, in its current form, was started by people being repressed by their leaders. Although their intent was true, the execution was quite faulty, destroying what already existed to create something we live by today.

We all come from people who have oppressed or were oppressed. We have in our blood the sins of both sides. Yet soon, we forget, and choose to repeat the same mistakes in the hope that the outcome will be different.

The definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over again expecting different results. How many things in our current economic and global crises have happened in the once before? How many times must we go through the ravages of something, hoping that, just this one time, we will be victorious? These same things happened to some of the greatest recorded empires in the world. Hubris is our motivation. Sometimes I find myself comparing America to a teenager with a no limit credit card.

So, here is my wish for the new coming year. May the changes set forth run fast and true and honorable on their path. And may we never forget our mistakes, but learn from them so our children and their children will not have to pay the ultimate price.

Check out these statics on WDC - they're fantastic and speak the topic of this blog entry.

ID: 1493411   (Rated: 13+) Poppies Fall  I want to honour all those who have sacrificed their lives to enable others to live. by Ann Ticipation

ID: 1492512   (Rated: 13+) November 5, 2008  I tried to put into writing my thoughts on this auspicious day of celebration. by J. A. Buxton

ID: 1492193 Invalid Item  This item number is not valid. by Not Available.

ID: 1488876 Invalid Item  This item number is not valid. by Not Available.

Love - a four letter word that can mean so many things. A little phrase that can bring down the mightiest of nations, stop the flow of time, send the heart racing and the blood pumping, and bring joy, euphoria, heartache, despair, happiness, sadness, and billions of other emotions yet to be tapped into.

I'm getting personal here, something of which I vowed not to do, but that's what usually happens when you promise something like that. At least for me. What is an author but a person who simply bleeds out on a page. *stares at the last sentence with disgust and tosses the page over my shoulder*

I am in love.

It is a state of affairs that happened completely by surprise. Its was like a thief in the night and before I could even realize what was happening, my heart was taken. I grinned like a fool that first month, the complications of our relationship truly lost in the haze of new love. I'd never experienced this before. He was new, the experience was new, everything was new. And I couldn't be more happy.

But life always jumps in to complicate things.

We have a long distance thing going on. Our hours together on the phone are the most precious to me even though its limited to a six hour window of time each night. It is the hardest type of relationship because during those hours apart you begin to think about what the other is doing while you're separated. Doubt kicks in. Past baggage and everything else we tow along behind us when we step out into the world bumps into the backs of our knees. Never before have I thought about my own neurosis more than I do now.

I trust "X". I don't trust anyone except a hand full of people I've encountered in my life. And the weird thing is, that's the problem. I have never trusted someone this fast. Ever. It bothers me that it doesn't bother me. X is still a mystery to me even though we've logged enough hours on the phone to make my cell phone weep. There are so many things in that brilliant brain of his that are hidden from me. I don't mind that he keeps the dark things hidden for I can never knock someone for self-preservation. But there are moments I fear what lurks in the secrets’ shadows.

A constant question for me is the action/reaction theory. Does he do certain things as a reaction to what I say or do? Is it only a reaction and not something he wants? I don't want him to have to react all the time. Sure, there are some things I want but that doesn't mean he has to do them because I want to. Its bizarre, I know, to want him to want to do whatever I might be suggesting instead of it being just a reaction. I don't want reaction just nature flow from him. Is this spontaneity or craziness? (I sound like all those confusing women I used to make fun of. :S)

The two of us are still somewhat a secret. Its odd because our relationship is hidden in some cases, but not in others. I wonder if he keeps us in the dark for protection, or for options, or why it even matters to me in the first place to want to shout it from the rooftops. Its the crap like this that makes me crazy! o_O That weird, jealous stuff shouldn't matter and most of the time it doesn't... until the Emotional Disaster Duo shows up for a visit.

The bitch better known as Self-Doubt has been hanging around lately. She's been stalking me since I was a wee lass and is a severe pain in the tush. But she's like black mold - immune to everything but napalm. With nagging whispers in my ear, she reminds me of all the things I'd rather not think about. My love is one of those men where people gravitate to. X has the presence and charm and "nice guy" vibe that simply draws anything with a pulse. I, on the other hand, am one of those people who sees too much, too fast so people have a tendency to stand back. And, with Self-Doubt's kind help, I know all of my faults. I accept and embrace the worry-wart, not very pretty or slim, active imagination, uses sarcasm like chain-smokers inhale cigarettes mentality, but it still sucks to have them around. "He's everything a girl could want," she whispers in her nails-on-a-chalkboard voice. "Why would be want you?"

This is a good question. Its something that dwells and festers inside me while my annoying neighbor, Paranoia, drops in to drink all my coffee and steal my newspaper. He likes to mention to me, as he flips through the Sport's section, all the possible things that could be going on while I sit at home alone. I love my guy with all of my heart. I would do anything for him if he asked it of me. But is my love strong enough to reach 2500 miles away? We've been together for several months now, and he wouldn’t blatantly cheat on me, but with such distance things could happen. One of my biggest fears is that he'll fall someone within arms reach. That our relationship will become a burden and not a source of happiness. That he will realize that life is more complicated being with me than without me, and some sane girl will come along and sweep him off his feet. Or even worse, it means nothing to him at all. *begins to ring thumbs*

I never wanted to fall in love. I watched what it did to the people around me especially my mother. I watched, helpless, as it tore down the strongest person I have ever known until it almost killed her, body and soul. And with a broken heart, I have watched many people I have loved walk away from me without ever turning back. But now as my heart belongs to another I can only pray I will survive should he break it, for I know it will hurt a million times more than all the other combined.

At the moment my life is a big mess - family stuff, health junk, school mishaps. The things I want war with the things that need to be done. Uncertainty surrounds me like a dark cloud. I'm normally a patient person, but having wait for answer to a question that forever burns in the back of my mind is suddenly daunting. Surprisingly though I have faith in this relationship especially in X. To take it a step further I have immense hope that all of this is weirdness on my part and the love will all work out. As I wade through the debris I doing my best to stay the course and keep moving forward. Preferably with a smile, holding my guy’s hand and Love, Faith, and Hope riding shotgun with big, goofy grins on their faces.

Simply put, my newfound posse kicks the Emotional Disaster Duo’s butt.

So, I dedicate this entry to Love, in all its many forms. Moreover, I recommend (not that anyone reads this) 1 Corinthians 13: 1-13 to all those who believe in the big L-O-V-E. If you’re not the religious type, try these great works from your WDC writers:

ID: 1047695   (Rated: E) If You'd Say That You'll Be Mine  This is a short romantic poem I wrote. by Chris Haines

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ID: 1449985   (Rated: 13+) Romance from Chris  Title self explainable by Lonewolf - Catching up

ID: 1077115   (Rated: 13+) Embrace  Every inch of me submits to your embrace by Sol

I am a reader.

I've been a reader for as long as I could understand the letters on the pages, and even then, I would make up stories to go along with the words just to feel apart of the scheme. It took a while for me realize I was a storyteller as well. The tall tales in my head were for fun. The magical creatures and odd events were a chance to escape the chaos around me, to have something that was truly understandable, a way for me to keep my innocence even though I had no notion of what the word meant.

Then, one day, my little niece asked for a story. Not one from a book but from your noggin, she said as she tapped her forehead against mine with a toothy grin. I was flabbergasted at first. I didn't know any kids stories. I read mythology, fantasy novels, and detective stories -- much too bloody for a girl of four. But as my niece stared at me with anticipation, I knew I had to tell her something, and with that will and her smile the words came tumbling out. By the end of it, she was thrilled, I was stunned, and my mother simply looked at me with an expression that said "of course, didn't you know that?".

Tinkering with writing came after a bad bout of pneumonia that kept me from doing everything else. The words built up through the frustration and tiredness and need until it split out of me like that day with my niece. It was a flood gate bursting open. Like the overflow of water the ideas haven't stopped trickling in.

I don't know whether to be thankful or not.

But the mountains of ideas doesn't amount to being a great writer. I'm alright. I get the occasional good static from time to time, but its nothing to write home about. And being apart of a writing community like WDC, you can immediately tell how high your caliber of writing really is. Being surrounded by them, interacting with them, reading and absorbing the excellent work... I'm just happy to be a sponge and experience the magic.

They are the Good Ones. The ones you go back and read again and again. Their words are brilliant pieces to a shredded picture that once collected creates a masterpiece. You read their work and can not help being in awe of them. They make you feel whether good, bad or horrific. When the words off the page make you forget yourself completely you know you're in sphere of a Good One.

I mention all of this to talk about a new author I have added to the List. The book was mandatory reading for one of my college courses, but I couldn't help but get trapped in her words. She writes with a brush to paint a picture so vivid you want to reach out and touch. It is her experiences come to life, jumping off the page in your face.

The book is Bone Black by bell hooks.

Read it and you'll get what I mean.
 

This is the beginning of my writing blog. I have another one somewhere out there in the world wide web, but that one holds the rambling nonsense of my life and the random things that happen. Dreams and Swords however is suppose to hold the trials and tribulations of my writing universe. Its is sure to be crazy, but what else can you expect from such a mixed up girl?

I'm not quite sure how to start this. I was hoping for more cohesion, but that might be a little too much to ask for. At least, at this very moment. Maybe, in the future, I will have a clearer picture of what I want to write here. But right now this is just going to be a long, running thought.

Some of you may know I had surgery. Although I am extremely grateful that this has taken place and I will finally be able to breathe normally, my equilibrium is completely shaken up. I can't see to concentrate or focus. Things seem to be completely out of whack and not just with my writing but with the people around me. I know its me. If there is one thing I know, I know that my perception of things is totally disjointed. But I'm tired of the crazy. I want control back.

The pain and tiredness is cutting down on my writing especially for my campfire additions. Had the wonderful people I write with (Lonewolf, Zephyr, Stilavon, Sammi-Jo and others - you guys are awesome!) not been the true friends they are, then I would be up the creek without a paddle, canoe, and life preserver. I'm still behind, but as my fortune cookie from last week said, I will keep my determination and everything will go my way.

Currently, I'm thinking of revamping my portfolio. I have a whole theme I'm going in my head, I just have to take the time to set it up. Who knows... maybe then everything will fall back into place.

"The soul, secure in her existence, smiled at the drawn dagger and defies its point."

.:LdyPhoenix:.