My blog, where I store those thoughts rattling around my brain
Welcome to the insanity of my mind! Please excuse the cobwebs and clutter, I've been meaning to clean the place up a bit...|
This is where I vent in poetry, give updates to what I'm writing about, or just post music I'm listening to at the moment. I don't really know what to do with blogs so I just go with the flow!
Stop in and read some of my nonsense whenever the mood strikes you :)
|I stand before a crossroads
Holding a shovel,
Covered in mud from
Where I buried the dead man
He fought with untold fury
but I was cunning
And slit my throat
The man I used to be
Now he lies, an unknown grave
where the victor stands
a blank slate bearing
wisdom from another life
Limping to the crossroads
I forge a new path
Scarred from battle
Haunted by the one I've slain
Rain falls, washing off the mud
Baptizing me anew
I turn to grey skies
Whispering oaths bound in blood
A cold hand upon my shoulder
His mocking phantom
Gurgles you'll never change
I smile because I already have
|I would love to hold on
To the memories you gave
But all I am doing
Is squeezing my heart dry
You were brimming with conversation
Endless topics flowing so brightly
Now I would be lucky for a few words
What did I do to earn your silence?
I almost felt important
For the briefest of moments
Before I was tossed back
To that voiceless abyss
Is this a passing interest,
I asked but you couldn't answer
Perhaps I should have known
I would receive more of the same
Couldn't you have warned
This was going nowhere
Before I packed my hopes
and made you their destination?
Why let me know you
and share blissful secrets
If I have to forget all
the time we spent dreaming?
You did yourself a favor
by making me feel worthless
But I could have done that
without any of your help.
I would love to hold on
To the memories you gave
But all I am doing
Is squeezing my heart dry
So she's traded my love for comfort, gives it all away
So much for that happy ending, now you make it clear
You've got your options, only one way left to go
So I'll follow it down
She goes straight, straight for the deep end
Doesn't hesitate to dive right in
Be careful now, be careful now
Be careful, be careful now
She only comes to me in my dreams
So sleep becomes addicting
It's not healthy, it's what makes you right
It's not healthy, it's what makes you
Hold her strings to haunt my dreams
|I'm running from my demons now,
Racing thoughts inside my head,
Gasping as I pump these legs,
Burning pain keeps them at bay.
I go until my muscles shake
Limbs quake, threaten to collapse
But still, I force myself along
Because the demons are coming back
I hope my music drowns them out
But wicked whispers worm within
That hissing static sorrow,
Shreds my soul with savage glee.
That is why I cannot rest
Even if my tendons tear
I'll run, I'll walk, I'll limp away
From those voices in my head
|It's official. I now have a grand total of five unfinished projects. Well, I'm working on one of them and it should be done by the end of this week... So hopefully that will bring it down to four?
As of today, I have the following to finish:
The Sea of Trees (nearing completion)
Earthbound (half-finished but has complete outline)
Library of Nightmares (still needs editing and various additions made)
Deathless Boy (literally making it up as I go along)
The Book of Shadows (extensive notes and research made, but I have no idea where I left off)
All of these are extremely promising but I keep getting distracted! Why do I start new stories? Maybe it's easier to create new ideas than to flesh out existing ones... My goal is to complete all of these, but that's an awfully tall order. So far I'm going to stick with one and whittle down each one as I go.
Wish me luck, I'm in desperate need of it!
There is no reconciliation
That will put me in my place
And there is no time like the present
To drink these draining seconds
|What is it like to be emotionally detached? How do you view the world? Are you able to analyze each situation from a solely rational perspective?
Sometimes I feel like it would be easier to live without having to endure these pesky feelings. What are they good for? Bringing me trouble, that's what I think. It would be nice to wake up without having to have inner monologues about nonsense before I eat breakfast. Where is the switch to shut that crap off?
Do you believe you're missing out
That everything good is happening somewhere else?
But with nobody in your bed
The night's hard to get through
|Since I joined a class created by Bob's Alternate Realities , I've been working my butt off on this new story. These characters really have a mind of their own, I'm starting to think that I'm biting off more than I can chew! Perhaps my story should have been a little smaller in scope but I think it's worth telling so I'm going to hack away at it until I'm finished.
So far, I'm over 4000 words and counting. I think the final tally will be around 6k, but we will have to see. I'm really excited to show everyone and hope that it will be worth the wait. See ya round, folks! I'm going back into my lair now.
Don't know why this is happening
But I'll do what I want
I'll do what I please
I'll do it again till I've got what I need
I keep swinging my hand through a swarm of bees 'cause I
I want honey on my table
|We all bear scars upon our hearts
Indelible marks which others left
Sometimes inflicted to ourselves
They ache and twinge
Old wounds, seeping with memory
Refusing to scab over
Perhaps those will never fade
Lingering through shades of time
Ghosts that haunt us
Creeping in those still moments
When daily thoughts have settled
|I was talking to a friend yesterday and the topic of talents came up in our conversation. I remarked how some people were naturally gifted athletes, scientists, lawyers, etc. When I was questioned as to what my skill might be, I laughed and said that I was good at making pretty words.
Isn't that all writing really is? Pretty words? Flowery speech? Sweet nothings?
This idea filled me with some chagrin, but I found it humorous. Perhaps that's why so many people have discarded reading altogether, it's just fleeting entertainment. But then I see how movies and TV shows have filled that void and then I'm back to scratching my head again.
Do you think there's any hope for wordsmiths like us, in a world that treats the idea of reading books like the mental equivalent of eating your veggies?
It's a beautiful lie
It's a perfect denial
Such a beautiful lie to believe in
So beautiful, beautiful, it makes me
|So much to do, so little time.
Do you ever wonder if successful authors were able to finish a novel because they were social recluses? Either that or they must have some godly typing skills to bust out a novel in short periods of time. It's a skill I would love to hone, in between work and family visits and friends. Sometimes I just want to lock myself in a cabin and return months later with a bushy beard and stacks of complete manuscripts.
But life has a way of leading you astray.
I shake my fist at you, oh forces of nature! How dare you give me rich experiences to draw from, but no chances to write them down! Perhaps this weekend I'll make some progress... (Disregard the other hundred times I've said that)
Put on a show for the viewers back home
Hide the truth so they'll never know
You hate what you got
Can't you love what you got?
So smile for the cameras that keep rolling