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My blog, where I store those thoughts rattling around my brain |
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Welcome to the insanity of my mind! Please excuse the cobwebs and clutter, I've been meaning to clean the place up a bit... Stop in and read some of my nonsense whenever the mood strikes you :) |
“... and when nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. What do you call it, freedom or loneliness?” ― Charles Bukowski |
Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd  How I wish, how I wish you were here We're just two lost souls Swimming in a fish bowl Year after year Running over the same old ground What have we found? The same old fears Wish you were here |
Radio, my radio (my radio) I let myself suck into the ether My ears become eyes Radio, my radio (my radio) So I hear what I do not see Silence secretly wanderlust |
Every time when I look in the mirror All these lines on my face getting clearer The past is gone And it went by, like dusk to dawn Isn't that the way? Everybody's got their dues in life to pay Yeah, I know nobody knows Where it comes and where it goes I know it's everybody's sin You got to lose to know how to win |
| "What does it matter," the disheartened creator asks. "It's all crap anyway, nobody's going to read it... So what's the use?" Manuscripts gather dust, Lonely stories wait, in hopes of curious eyes - hungry minds ready to digest, words feeding imaginations. What's the point in a solitary chef cooking for only himself? These hearty meals will spoil, if left out on empty tables. A single stranger wanders in, gazing 'round at the steaming buffet, eventually filling their plate with an interesting cuisine and settling down for a bite. The culinary artist hides away, cowering in the kitchen. Unable to watch their work be devoured with disdain, wishing it had a bit more salt. At length he braves the opinions, striding out to see an empty dish, a white napkin dabbing lips, before the gourmand goes back for a second helping. "How is it?" He questions, steeling himself for the criticism. The verdict weighs even more since the dining room is empty: a single soul judging his fate. Sweat trickling down a neck, suspense drags onward as the reviewer takes another bite. They look up and smile, saying simply: "It's good." Two words, containing nothing and yet - everything. A creative mind carries on sustained by meager validation. One person was all he needs. |
Hey you, out there on the road Always doing what you're told Can you help me? Hey you, out there beyond the wall Breaking bottles in the hall Can you help me? Hey you, don't tell me there's no hope at all Together we stand, divided we fall |
She comes in colours everywhere She combs her hair She's like a rainbow Coming, colours in the air Oh, everywhere She comes in colours |
| A friend of mine brought a useful site to my attention which could be really beneficial for designing characters! I'm really looking forward to using this as a supplementary tool for my stories. As writer who heavily uses a visual style, it's a great way to picture important people for use in scenes, since it's hard for me to describe something if I cannot 'see' it in my mind's eye. WriterAngel   , we might have to try this out for our steampunk story! |
| Everybody has experienced a dream they wanted to hold on to a bit longer. Last night I dreamt that I traveled to the moon, discovering there was life on that planet after all. A lush garden greeted me, bizarre trees and exotic birds, a carpet of alien flowers swaying in the wind as I gazed up at the blue orb we live on. It was all so vivid. When I awoke, I was filled with a deep sadness, longing to remain asleep for a few hours more so I could bask in that ethereal realm. What is it about dreams that are so bittersweet? I'm reminded of a game I played long ago, a childhood favorite that has stuck with me ever since. In Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening, the titular hero Link is sailing home when a sudden storm overtakes his ship and sends him crashing against a mysterious island. A maiden named Marin finds the stranger stranded on the beach and cares for him. When Link recovers and is strong enough to explore, he tries to leave but discovers it is an impossible task, prevented by an unknown force. Marin explains it is because of the Wind Fish. The creature sleeps within an egg atop the highest mountain, keeping the inhabitants of Koholint Island from escaping. The only way to free the villagers is to locate each of the eight magical instruments that are in the clutches of powerful monsters and to play a song which will awaken the Wind Fish. So Link embarks on an epic journey to uncover the secrets of the island and return home. Along the way he falls in love with Marin, who expresses her desire to escape the little island as it is all she's ever known. She asks Link to take her with him and he promises, sharing a tender kiss. The townspeople grow fond of the adventurer as he helps them with various troubles they suffer from, cheering as he defeats the monsters one by one. Marin is always there to give him encouragement, singing a ballad which lifts his spirits when he suffers defeat. Eventually, Link manages to acquire each of the eight magic instruments and reaches the perilous mountain where the Wind Fish lays dreaming. He plays a haunting tune that cracks open the egg, freeing the beast. It thanks him for awakening it from the long slumber and flies away as the island melts into nothing. Link discovers the entire place, the cheerful people, the savage monsters, the talking animals were nothing but a dream and awakens on his boat where it all started. He sails off into the sunset as the melancholy ballad plays, watching the Wind Fish fade into the sky. It was such a heartbreaking ending that to this day when I replay it I cannot bear to take that final step. The longing to hold on to something intangible is truly the most human of desires. |
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