Excerpt.

So, um. I'm writing fiction again.

I never knew what to do with myself. Proof for this remains inscribed in several years’ collective utterings in a diary I kept secret between my bed mattress and the dusty wall. Among moments of shame captured in scribblings of barely-legible handwriting, it appeared obvious to any reader that I might have been completely insane at one point in my life. However, I stood to prove a point against such rumors.

It was not insanity that broke me in my sixteenth year of life, but instead it was a moment of realization—an epiphany—which I soon understood to be the true source of my downfall. A realization which any human being could hope to never encounter. What was this awakening? Simple.

I am nothing.

Those three words would soon spread like weeds to every vacated corner of my mind, and then, set ablaze one day, would grow to be the most incriminating evidence against my sanity.

September.

So here I stand, staring down
the edge of September and
watching where old loyalties lie.
What step I take next will

Determine how I fall and if
I'm caught in mid-air. I've
returned to an utter state of
confusion with a dazed dose

Of insanity. The lines that
draw me start to fade with
a fleeting glimpse of what
was once my future.

The cries that escape my
throat do not voice the way
I am truly falling apart
within this old shell of a heart.

Toe-curls and nervous
lip-bites don't give away
the panic ensuing, rising
like a thermometer in here.

So here I stand, staring down
the edge of September and
watching where old loyalties lie.
I can't find myself anymore.

Mutual.

Let’s fall apart in each other’s arms. I’ll let my weaknesses show and I’ll crack in the knees. I’ll just tear apart at my seams and unravel to the floor. Don’t worry about the romantics of it all, I only need an hour of your time and a place to light up. Baby, you have the power to take everything I have and leave it in ruin. It’s hard to have everything to myself when I can’t even stand on both legs. What am I to you? Just another hospital trip and a week of sleepless nights. What are you to me? An inspirational story of a downfall and a playlist of sad songs. It’s a constant adrenaline rush and a nonstop thrill of the chase. And we can’t stop now because we’ve already started again…


(Happy New Year!! 2011)

Tell me what you know.

Would you still love me
if I didn't breathe?
As you drag these heavy
mechanical limbs across the
scraping tile floors in hopes
that you can find a cure

Would you still heal me
if it took my life?
This crippling cursed disease
rotting my flesh and soul from the
inside out and tearing me
away from what I once admired

Would you still chase me
if you knew it held inescapable?
Running away as fast as my
dead-weight legs can carry me and
screaming at the top of my lungs in
firm belief that someone will find me

Would you still hold me
if I never deserved it?
Please take your justified right
to flee for your life and retreat
to the ends of the Earth as
far away from me as possible

Would you still love me
if I couldn't love myself?

You'll get what you deserve.

Karma's got me in a chokehold, and I'm about to fight back. But now I'm caught in a battle with myself with no sign of relief. Now the air has drifted out of my lungs and I'm floating on a comatose breath. I can see everything before my eyes, but there's nothing I can touch. Nothing but a shattered shiver and a crumbling cry resonates from my withered hands.

My cracked voice shakes out one last effort before evading me forever. It's a little slice of what I deserve, unable to defend myself or destroy the chains that bind me. I am an executioner of worlds, a swallower of dreams, and a butcher of loves. These sinned hands may smother out the lives of my enemies but know not of the aches the others feel in their hearts.

Three strikes and you're out, well, this must be my fifth offense. Perhaps a sixth or ninth. I've lost track of all the crimes of which my conscience does not know. Maybe it will take a hailstorm or a hellhound to hammer me into submission. I don't know, but I've got myself a problem here: to rouse my heart and inflate my lungs. Maybe I'm regretting my decisions, or maybe I'm just conspiring my next plan of action.

Departure

I've started on my novel, Departure. Beginning a story is always the hardest part for me. After the beginning is over with, the rest of it is basically a breeze. The sample I posted on deviantART, I think, was not a fair quote. It made it seem as though the whole novel is about high school. While high school is an important aspect of the setting and such, it would be wrong to say that "high school" is the subject of this novel. So here's a longer sample than what I posted the other day.



Sneakers slapped onto the floor in beat with the rock song Allison pumped into her ears at full blast. It had been a good day so far, and she planned to keep up the momentum of her energy. As she swayed her hips across the hallway on her way to the cafeteria, she suddenly found herself under Blair’s gaze. Allison staggered, a bit startled.
"Oh!" Blair exclaimed. "Hey there, May!"
Allison regained her footing. "How’s it going?" Last year at this time, Allison felt uncomfortable talking to Blair; it was mostly due to how strangely she acted. After putting her freshman year behind her, however, Allison had grown to appreciate Blair’s uniqueness.
Blair smiled. "I’m good." A brown messenger bag slipped from her shoulder and spilled its contents onto the dirty tile. A fleeting look of concern crossed her face; luckily nothing flew too far out of reach. She stretched and slid down against the white brick wall. "Sit down." She offered to Allison, patting the cold floor next to her.
"I, uh..." Allison gestured toward the ever-growing lunch line. "I’ll be right back."
Behind a pair of cheerleaders and before an unfriendly sophomore, Allison placed herself into a dark corner of the cafeteria entrance. She couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the girls in front of her.
"Did you hear about Andrea and Shane?" said the blonde.
"No," her companion replied, "did something happen?"
The blonde rolled her eyes, as if it were common knowledge by now. "She cheated on him. With, like, three other guys."
"Are you serious?" The friend with too much makeup stifled a laugh.
"It’s not funny," the blonde said, "I’m going to have to put up with her whining and shit when he dumps her."
"You mean they’re still together?"
"I know, right? I don’t understand Shane, either. He’s so cute but so stupid."
The two fell quiet for some time, and the line inched closer to the counters. Allison felt uneasy after hearing what she had. She had known Andrea Schultz for at least five years. At some point they had even labeled each other with "best friend" until a falling-out three months previous. Allison had always thought Andrea was a drama queen. She became bored so easily, and the only way to have satisfied her was to make up a rumor about an innocent person or to destroy a relationship in which she was perfectly comfortable. Allison had made countless attempts to talk to Andrea about her unnecessary behavior, all of which had been completely ignored.
Some 80’s music rattled through the ceiling speakers. It appeared Allison’s turn at the food counter would come soon. Deciding that she didn’t want half the sides, she chose the spaghetti meal. A lunch worker named Margaret spilled the pile of noodles and marinara sauce, letting it drain into every compartment of the lunch tray. Lip curled, Allison stepped away from the counter, paid for the meal, and proceeded back to the entryway hall where Blair had sat with a pair of soundproof headphones suffocating her ears. Allison practically had to fall on top of Blair until she realized her friend had returned from the lunchroom.
"That took a while," Blair raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Allison simply replied.
The two sat in silence for the remaining twenty minutes of lunch, and then proceeded to their separate classes. "I’ll see you later, May!" Blair waved.
Allison smiled. "Okay. See you." She had no idea why Blair always called her May. After a few reminders, Blair had come to the realization that her name really was Allison, but continued repeating the nickname. Allison didn’t really mind.
The day transited into a blur as each thought melted into the next inside of Allison’s head. However, a single worry nagged at her thoughts for the remainder of the school periods and into the late afternoon. Had those statements in the cafeteria been true, it would mean Andrea had become more of a nuisance since she and Allison had last quarreled.
Although Allison seemed to not care, a part of her inside had agonized as she slowly cut ties with Andrea. She had given her so many chances; "benefit of the doubt" resonated within her skull countless times between effort and failure. She so desperately wanted to change Andrea into a better person. It finally reached the point where Andrea had evolved into a burden upon Allison’s fragile shoulders. A collapse was imminent. Nothing could change without Andrea’s total surrender to Allison’s intentions, which would never happen in their lifetime. No, Andrea was always too stubborn to admit that she could ever be wrong in any situation. Wasteful breaths had always escaped Allison’s lips in all of her spent efforts.
It could be supposed that Allison sought refuge in improving Andrea’s character, in order to protect her own flaws from breaking her in their exposure. Worn and ragged, Allison’s powerless strains hardly made an impact upon Andrea’s diamond exterior. Defeat had eventually swallowed Allison’s hopes.
Halos of smeared sunlight glowed on the panes of the bus window. A storm cloud fast approaching from the west, it quickly became evident to Allison that she would be spending the evening locked up in her room. Rain showers like these often had a way of soothing her into an undeniable tranquility, and she didn’t want to be disturbed.


I feel as though I'm being a bit redundant in those last few paragraphs. :/ I dunno. I'll figure it out later. I'm only beginning, after all. Editing/revision comes later.

Even with this extended quote, I don't think I've still quite established the beginning of the point that I'll be making with this story. But I don't think that's a problem right now. It's only the start of it, after all. As the story progresses, it should become more evident what message I'm trying to get across.

So, this is what I've been doing this weekend. Writing a novel that I probably won't finish and playing Car Town on Facebook (I hate you for that, mobo).

Why do I waste my time like this?

There's a first for everything...

Why have I never posted any of my writing on here? It's pretty much the only creative work of mine that I'm actually proud of. Admittedly, I used to hate poetry, mostly because I didn't understand it. But now it has a nice, warm place in my heart.


This is all for a school project. I'd say more, but I know of some people who have the same assignment, and I don't want my ideas stolen. ;) I'll talk more about this project after it's finished.

All of these are little quotes from original poems/blurbs that I've written.

Sometime I'll post an actual poem or two. Preferably a new one, so that I don't resort to dragging out the old stuff.


I'm currently brainstorming for an animation idea I have. It was triggered on my way home from work, while listening to Immi's Speak For Yourself CD.
I'm probably going to work around "Clear The Area."


I'm also working on coming up with some new OCs. I realized some time ago that all the OCs I ever had, I never draw anymore. Nor do I really like them as much as I used to. So I'm trying to come up with some new ones that, hopefully, I'll draw more often.