Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Fields Forever

Thanksgiving! Grief, this year is quickly coming to a close, isn't it? 

There were some parts that dragged on. There were some parts that went far too fast. Now things are somewhere in the middle and I see my birthday looming on the horizon. Nineteen, you know. My last 'teen' year and I've still yet to take advantage of that whole excuse of, "Oh, she's just a kid. They rebel, ya?" Sometimes I wonder if I should've been a complete idiot and sneaked out of the house, ran off with some friends, and... What do naughty, rebelling teenagers do? (Other than... illegal things. I do not wish I'd gone to jail, thank you.)

The present always seems to be full of query for both the past and the future. We're never satisfied with what's right in front of us. We have to look back and consider each step we've taken, then we have to work out each scenario in our minds and try to tell where we're going to end up. It can be hard to look at where our two feet are in this exact moment. Are we sitting in sludge, not moving at all, or are we slipping on the wind? Like I said, things are somewhere in the middle for me now. I'm savoring each minute I spend, indulging in my thoughts and letting my mind go. I smile freely, not caring who sees or how the world might react.

I have an urge to read something. I've even resorted to reading Harry Potter fanfiction to keep this urge satisfied. (I didn't even read the original books!) I've got Charles de Lint just waiting to be gobbled up but it's hard to find the time or place to really dig in, ya? I will, though. Give it time. Thanksgiving week is a bit busy for these things, mm?

Sigh. What am I thankful for? So many things, to be honest. As always, I'm thankful for the fact that I'm still alive, that I've made it this far. I'm thankful for the luxuries of this life, for the friends who have made up my family, for the knowledge I've gained. It's daunting to reflect on what I've got ahead, on how this semester has twisted and turned in on itself. I'm thankful for the fact that I can look at it and not freak out, not break down. I can just... smile. And nod. And know that I'll be able to handle it, some way or another. 

People like to say that I'm strong, but you know? I'm only as strong as they've made me. Each step of the way, I've had something to look to, somewhere to aim, and every so often, there'd be someone there holding onto my arm, keeping me up. I'm walking with confidence in my stride now, despite the dank shadows that are all wrapped up around the curve ahead. 

Thank you. Everyone. Thank you, World.

Question of the Day:
(Wait for it! Wai~t for it...)
What are YOU thankful for? Seriously! Think about it. What makes you smile, makes your heart warm?
(Could'a seen that one a mile away.)

Monday, November 21, 2011

I Need

Can I... Can I just. Scream? 

Not a bad scream, particularly, no. In fact, a majority of the scream would be accompanied with happy, wild flailing, and blushing, and babbling. I am so. So. Happy. Right now. There are a lot of things that have gone wrong, but just as much has gone right and I dare not fight it. I've been smiling so much more as of late. I've been so much... lighter. And freer. Rather than muted and smothered. 

This really is such a grand feeling.

Question of the Day:
Wait, what? You guys are still here, waiting to read this? Sorry I haven't been updating! ;u;

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Rune: Step 2

When did it begin? This... transition. This death of a passion.
I couldn't tell you even if I tried. It's been a long while since memories, reality and dreams, could be discerned in my mind.


She smiled, her nose brushing against his neck as he crushed her in his arms. The day had been slow and pleasant, the light leisurely feasting on the hours before wrapping itself in dewy night. The couch was hot under them but the room was chilly, and the television sent strange shadows and bursts of colors through the room. He sighed deeply, causing her to look up. The heroes of Law and Order considered a case of murder and theft.


It was dark. Really dark. 
Her gaze flicked and jumped with each passing headlight. The air was cold, tossing her robe behind her in a sad mimicry of the vigilante's capes back in the 70's. Her world was falling all apart around her, only to slowly be pulled back together by her cold, analytical mind.
What had she been wearing? she asked herself. 
Pajama pants. Grey and white, with faded red. It was a plaid pattern but faded from being washed incorrectly. A black sports bra, but it wasn't like her to run outside uncovered. She was probably wearing a t-shirt now. Something that might have been laying around the living room? She shook her head. What else? Her weight, her hair color, facial features, height. The time she left. Possible whereabouts. All of it, a mental checklist. She knew the police couldn't take in a missing persons report until after 24 hours, but the circumstances would convince them that it was more urgent than that. It would have to. 
Her fingers shook and her stomach was upset but her heart was slow, quietly beating. Calm.


Pain bloomed in her hand, her stomach lurching into her throat. She wasn't angry, only sad. Every time, she thought to herself, charting the roads that had lead up to that particular moment. No matter how sorry, no matter the circumstance, part two in a long process had already been set in motion. Or maybe it had only now made itself apparent. Maybe it was only her imagination. She couldn't tell, nor did she care to mull on it.
Her throat burned and she flinched, repulsed by the acidic taste on her tongue. The bolts to her doors slid with a defined sound. She cast a glance to her desk and sat down, reveling in the cool sensation of the metal against her arms.

Sloppy writing. I really couldn't care less. Just spilling these bits of scenes I had in my mind at the moment for exercise. They all sort of bleed into the next, though they aren't entirely necessarily connected. Think of it what you will. -shrugs- I just didn't want to get too rusty. Someday, I -will- be publishing one of my many novels, ya? (:

Question of the Day: Are you familiar with the song 'Meant to Live' by Switchfoot?

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Dirty Wall

Wouldn't it be funny if teachers had a tool similar to They could rate and put in detail about their worst and best students. They wouldn't have to do all of them, only the notable ones, you know? Can you imagine what they would say? And I wonder if they would rate their looks every once in a while too... (Is that what the chili pepper on ratemyprofessor means? I never took the time to really figure that one out.)

Sally Werther -- Biology Major -- HOT!!! --
Great student, wears low cut shirts. I was tempted to fail her to see if she'd come looking for extra credit. ;D

=w= Something like that? -goin' to Hell but you know they think it sometimes- Or maybe~...

Kennedy George -- Undefined Major -- So, so --
Complete pothead, never does his homework but does great on his tests! Hits on the girls around him. 

Pretty sure he's always inebriated in some way or another though.

-shrugs- Probably not. But it would still be funny. And great reference for future employers!

I wonder what my teachers would say about me, if anything at all... Probably theories that I do weird shit on my laptop all class. (Like write blogs?) I know my Art History prof is paranoid that a student will watch porn during her lectures again. (What a way to pass time, huh?) And I'm pretty sure that my Earth Science prof knows that I'm not entirely attentive whenever he's lecturing...

Anyone ever notice how the big mountain range in China kinda looks like a dragon? No? Just me? Well, alright.

I'm so exhausted and yet I'm more awake than I usually am. I hate my body for that. I'm constantly sick to my stomach, or my heart is racing for no reason, or I can't breathe, or I'm allergic to this or that. And that list could go on forever. It's ridiculous.

I've been told that it's stress. Look, I'm a girl, sure, but I swear I'm not always an emotional mess. In fact, I've been great. I love living with my girls and school is without too many kinks. I'm probably going to have a seasonal job soon and dammit, as much as getting free shit makes my head dance with greedy glee, I'm so glad that I don't have to worry about sitting around someone else's dinner table and pretending I fit in.

I'm a big girl. I'm an orphan. But I'm not the kind of person to dwell on things. It's sad. I understand the weight of it. I like to look on the bright side -- yet, spending all of those years, changing houses every other one, did not change the fact that it's awkward when people obviously don't know how to act around you, how to feel about you, how to think of you.

Do you know how many times I've gotten a makeup kit or a bundle of cutesy socks simply because I'm a girl and those things are -easy- to purchase, assuming that I would like them? Dear Gods, I hate makeup and cutesy socks. I'd rather be ball-gagged than get another package of that crap. =w=

For my seventeenth birthday, I ate a week-early cupcake and sat in a car for four hours. It was the very end of one of the hardest chapters of my life -- and yet that was one of my most favorable birthdays. Because I wasn't the only one that was out of place. And instead of people assuming that I was an unstable mess? -Everyone- was an unstable mess.


Back to my original whining: I hate that I'm always sick. On a more amusing note, however, the girls and I like to joke that if I end up with a guy? He'll probably mistake my all-the-time ick for morning sickness and get a baby scare. Fun, fun, right~?

"Uh, honey... o_o; Are you alright?"
"I'm sorry, I've been like this for a while... I'll be out in a bit."
"O______O;;; Shit,shit,shit,shit,shit..."

I really hope the D2 fans enjoy the Panty and Stocking review. 
Or at least that the trolls will be good.

Question of the Day: What's one project that you've worked on for so long that you practically hate it now? (Whether it be done and gone already or not.)

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Letter IV -- Silent and Resigned

Dear Blank,

Ever since I was little, I've had these little beds, ya? Twin-size. There was a brief time where I had a king-sized bed, but that was when I was staying in the guest room of my Aunt's place. Eh. Either way, the full mattress that I have now is just so... uncomfortable. I'm a tiny person. It's disconcerting to have enough space for three more people in bed with me and only having a couple of stuffed animals instead. It's not even enough stuffed animals. Pillows would even work. But...

I don't know. It makes me feel lonely. I ask Alanna to sit in bed with me before i sleep sometimes just to fill in that little gap. But then she goes and it's still there. Why can't I just fall asleep while she's there instead of lay up, waiting? And even if I did fall asleep, I know that I'd wake when she moved. There's just no relief to it. Honestly, I shouldn't be worrying about it. In reality, I should be just fine and dandy with knowing that I'm sleeping somewhere safe for the night.

It's not enough. 

I want someone to rest their hand on the small of my back, someone to hold my hip and pull me close. Someone who will somehow manage to keep on holding onto me, touching me, even if they can't get comfortable unless they're facing away. I want someone to trace my eyebrow and smile when I make a funny face at them for it. I want someone to keep me warm, despite my insistence on keeping the room freezing at night. I want someone who won't mind humming to me, or rocking me when my eyes just won't keep shut. I want someone to listen to my rambling when my brain needs to be emptied in order to properly shut down for the night. I want someone who will drag me back under the covers when I'm trying to get ready for class or work. I want to know they won't be gone in the morning. I want someone to grin a breath away from my face and make me feel overwhelmingly compelled to kiss their mouth. To giggle into their neck. To hold them back. And not hesitate, not feel ashamed for it. And if I am nervous, let it be the kind of anxiety that melts your heart, that makes you feel like roses are blooming in your veins.

I just want someone to fill that empty space on the other half of the bed. 

Fondly Yours~,

Question of the Day: How often do you catch yourself wishing for something "silly"?

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Feels Like Paradise

No, actually, it doesn't feel like paradise...
But I'm happy, nonetheless. Still only have 4$ in my bank account. I'll be waiting on my money for another couple of weeks or so. In the meantime, I'm relying on my roommates to help me out, which, thankfully, don't seem to mind. I've got a few different things that I've got to get done by Friday/Saturday. Homework, costumes. And then there's this:

I don't know if all of you can actually access that page without a student log in but basically, it's a contest where you make a video. You say your goals, your plans, why you chose Valencia (my current college), etc, etc. Then, if you happen to win, you get the rest of your Associates degree paid for. How effing amazing would that be? I have to pay out of state fees at the moment, so I'm paying about three times as much as an in state student would. 

I repeat. How effing amazing would that be? 

I figure, hell. Why not. I have a 100$ mic, a 200$ camera, good friends and a good story. It's not like I'm going up against a crew of top movie directors or something with 500$+ equipment. ...right? I did see a large group of students in the cafeteria back on the day that this contest first started... and they had 500$+ equipment... WELL. Fuck it. I'm still going to try. What could it hurt. There are 5 winners in the end and if winning means only having to pay for rent and books for a good year and half, I think I can swing for "my best."

I was recently reminded that I do my best solo work at midnight so I'm going to see if I can't write up some new TRONTR scripts. And possibly a CC script as well for some of them. I know I said that I'd do High School is a Nightmare for CC first... Rawrrr.I'llfigureitout. =w= If any of you readers have manga that you'd like to donate to me, I'd appreciate it, ya? I really do like actually having the manga in my hands. I tend to actually read the thing faster and sooner, rather than having to drag myself in front of a computer by force.

Yaay only two more hours until my Psych class. owo 
I'm such a nerd, it's the only class that I've memorized the building number and classroom number for.

Question of the Day: What does it take to get you pumped and ready to go?
(My adrenaline/creativity/drive always comes in short bursts, so I have to go all in at that exact moment or I end up fizzling out midway.)

Hold It Against Me

 Dunno why this didn't post when I wanted it to. -shrugs- Wrote this last Friday. 3 days ago.

So, so, so very ill. Feels like I'm walking on a waterbed and a bird is picking at my grey matter.

This marks the end of week 1 in college. I've loved it so far but I'm exhausted. It might take me a bit to work out my schedule. All of my teachers keep me awake at least. So far it seems like I'm going to love their teaching styles. the only one that may give me a little bit of trouble is my composition professor. The class is at 7 a.m. on the dot. No excuses or exceptions. And he's a hard one too. The very first day of class, we were assigned reading and writing prompts. But whatever. I shall survive.

My first day in college was special. Not in that "Oh this is going to be awesome--now roll the montage!" way though. The first half? Unremarkable, aside from the insane ammount of quotes from my pyschology teacher that I wrote down in my notebook. (Love, love, love him.) But right after Fenrir left to go back to the apartment? Everything kind of went to shit. It started -pouring- rain. And then it turned out my class didn't exist. Then I was on the wrong campus. Then it was raining again. Then my teacher was teasing me. And just, you know? It sucked.

Anndd yesterday I paid my rent. And finalized some orders on textbooks. And helped my roomate out. And. I have 4$ in my bank account.

Fuck. My. Life~.

Again, I say, I shall survive. Despite all of it, I'm happy.
And praying that I land a job soon.

On a side note~. Fen was drying her hair yesterday. I caled to her, "Can I come in? Fen? Feeennn?" No response. Figuring she couldn't hear-- GAH. AH. Ohhh my. Gosh. Goodness. ;w; I'm typing this as I'm listening to my Psychology teacher lecture. And to prove a point, he held up a book by a section of its pages and let it. Dangle. Oh. Oh, my heart. -- Ahem. Ha.



Basically, I caught her off guard and she thought I was a black mass looming over her. She smacked her head into my face. Broke the sunglasses that I was wearing. I know I've mentioned it a couple of times already in other places but if there's any chance that I might've missed any of you... But no, seriously. Um. She felt really horrible and bought me Sashimi for lunch, so, while it was not neccesary, it helped me to "forgive" her<3.

Quote(s) of the Day:
“Freud once said that a cigar is sometimes just a cigar. But whose to decide this? Whether or not a cigar is a cigar or.
    A cigar is a. Large, uncircumcised penis? -- Well, maybe if you snip the tip and… hahaha.”
Talking about sports stars -- “I always liked him because he was small and scrappy. I can identify with that. (: “

Question of the Day:
Do you enjoy grinding in videogames or would you rather breeze through the plot? (I proudly call myself the Grinding Queen.)

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Letter III -- You'll Dance

Dear Blank,

Of course, you're on my mind as well. Amidst all of the excitement, the anxiety, the curiosity, I think of you. The first time I saw my college campus, I was... disappointed. It gave me this awful sense of high school all over again. The kids were all so obviously... straight out of their parent's houses -- and going back for dinner. It just... annoyed me, I guess. I'm moving onto new things and they were just little reminders of what I was escaping. And what I had never had. But what made me pout the most was that little voice in the back of my mind saying, "Now I have to wait another two years before I have a chance of meeting you." Two years being the two years I need at Valen before I can transfer to University.

I'm such a spoiled little brat.
Kind of.

Do you know any dances? This music is making me want to move.

Question of the Day: Parlez vous francais?

Hey! Ho! Let's Go!

Alrighty, guys. It's been a damn long time, hasn't it? But I'm all moved into my new apartment, comfortably situated with my beloved housemates Alanna (Vixen) and Amanda (Fenrir)~. Things have been~ fantastic~ and to top it off, my classes are starting on Monday. Can anyone say "fck ya!"? I'm so excited. I've been feeling so lost without school weighing on my mind.

Here's the brief of my schedule but hopefully my 'free' days will turn into work days soon.

Fall 2011 Courses


Freshman Comp I
7-7:50 a.m.

General Psychology
11-11:50 a.m.

Earth Science
4-5:15 p.m.


Freshman Comp I
7-7:50 a.m.

General Psychology
11-11:50 a.m.

Earth Science
4-5:15 p.m.

Intro to Art History I
7-9:45 p.m.


Freshman Comp I
7-7:50 a.m.

General Psychology
11-11:50 a.m.

Wish me luck!!

Question of the Day: What classes will you be taking this year, if any?

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Who I Am

It was horrifying, to be honest.

I knew that my fanfare was going to be minimal, if heard at all over the others. And of course, my cap wanted to leap from my head and run away every chance it had. And I looked pregnant under all of that fabric. And the guy probably butchered my middle name, not that I could hear him over the pounding of my heart. And I had no idea where I was supposed to walk so I floundered for a bit. And it was hot. But. Well. I’m glad it’s done.

Friday night, if you somehow haven’t learned this already (i.e. Brittany’s Facebook wall), I graduated high school.

I’m done. Finally~! It feels… Fantastic. I can’t think of any other word to really describe it. The night ended with a lot of stress and yummy temptations of nausea, but it really was great. No party afterwards, just a lot of sentiment and affection from people that I hadn’t even realized cared quite as much as they did. Mrs. Cutting, Mrs. Cannariato, Mrs. Elliot, and the rest of the wonderful staff that cheered me on even when I was being snippy because of my transcripts and so on, they were there down to those last few moments to give me a hug when I felt like I’d faint. My few but cherished friends and could-have-been friends made me feel like I’ll really be missed here in this bastard child of Mexico…

(Truth of the matter, I’m sure they’ll move on just fine… Ha!)

Still. There was one that really… hit me, though. I mean, people--whose names I will not share, because I’m pretty sure they’d gut me--were practically sobbing for me. And that meant a lot, too. This kid… Okay. No. Kevin Chappa. He was in my English class the whole year and we barely shared more than twenty words. Yet, just a bit before we went up into the bleachers to further cement our oncoming heat stroke, he walked over. Gave me a hug.

“I’m going to miss you,” he said to that effect, “The whole year, I’ve really kind of admired you for your personality and how sweet you are.” I’m sure that he sounded more eloquent and heartfelt than my memory allows (or maybe it was simpler and shorter than that), but you’ve got to realize: there were about 300 kids swarming around us in that tiny little airway. It was loud and busy. And yeah, that’s a… small thing to say, I guess. I’m sure he didn’t expect it to leave a very large impact on me--but it did.

I’m so used to being invisible, even when I’m noticed. People think I’m weird and loud, or quiet and anti-social. They don’t see that happy middle ground where I’m content and considerate. Maybe I’m reading a little too far into it, but that just… It made me really happy. And I plan on finding the cutie on Facebook too, dammit. We will keep in touch~!

My high school career ended on a fine note, punctuated by tears (of others ;P), strong words, lingering hugs…

And you know? You don’t think about this stuff until people say it outright. And it… awes you. I’m so shocked. I can barely put into proper diction what it’s like. To have the people that you love watch you, even from states away, as you walk along the procession of handshakes and dutiful compliments. To have the people that you care for and look up to, tell you that they feel inspired by you…

I… don’t know how to express myself right now.

And Jacob! Augh. I love him. He dropped me off at my place at 12 a.m. Practically clung to me. “I don’t want to let go right now.” And. All I could do was apologize and thank him for putting up with the bullshit that is having moi for a friend.

… Sigh.

So, today, now that all of the embers have kissed the night, I am sitting in my uncle’s shop in my hobo-wear and waiting to get a tattoo. (At least I got one part of being a teenager right, huh? =D) Or rather, waiting to go eat lunch with people I don’t like (Hello adulthood!), then to go get my tattoo, then to go out to eat dinner~ with people I typically like, annnd~ to finalize my Tex-Mex adventures. I won’t be on the computer much for the next week, prepping my leave and what not, but, expect great things in time, guys.

Oh, and, the speeches t graduation? Awesome. You guys know how to quote people. -u- Well, so do I.

Yet here, Laertes! Aboard, aboard for shame!
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
And you are stay'd for.
There ... my blessing with thee!
And these few precepts in thy memory
Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportion'd thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg’d comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel but, being in,
Bear't that th' opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgement.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man;
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell; my blessing season this in thee!

Question of the Day:
What are some things that have inspired you or impacted you profoundly throughout life?

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

If I Could Find A Way

I've had this song stuck in my head. All. Day.
Which is funny because for once, I can't really relate it to my current situation.

In fact, I'm bloody fantastic. Exhausted mentally as well as physically, but. 3 weeks. I have seven? Six days of high school left? Then I will be returning home. There are moments throughout the days where it will dawn on me, as if it were some new, unexpected realization. And I am floored in each instance. For how long have I dreamnt of being home? I think at this point, all I can do is reiterate the elation that I've expressed in other blogs, but... Just... I'm so happy. So freaking excited.

Last night, my aunt and uncle both actually expressed excitement with me. Together! It lasted for the whole of maybe two minutes... Either way, though. They did it! And it was so nice. I had tried on my dress and my graduation gown, checking to see if everything would work out right. And they both promised they would be there and... I wish there were a way to pour the gush that is flowing from my every orifice into this blog, but ti's so hard to type.

I'm just happy. ;u; Tired, stressed, and a bit overwhelmed, but happy.

Question of the Day: Ever been bailed on in an instance where you were doing a favor to the ditcher?

Friday, May 6, 2011

An Affirmation -- So, What Now?

What do you do when you finally get what you've wanted?

It seems, finally, my lifelong goal has been achieved. I'm going to college. I made it in and now just four weeks stand in my way. Four! And I'll finally be living with people that won't smother me or try to hold me back with their personal fears, that won't try to color my own ambitions for the ones that they have lost. But with all of this in my pocket, I can't stop striving for something. I feel the need to keep myself busy, to power through and continue. Always, writing will be at the back of my mind, but I need something that can be accomplished--and beneficial--while I'm here. While I'm standing on this particular stone in the path.
There's been something nagging at the back of my mind. You know, when you really want something but you don't want to admit it? It keeps reminding you of it some way or another. It taps your shoulder but disappears without bluntly stating its name or showing its face. It grabs your attention and slowly steers it back to where it should be. My own confidence has been chasing away the things that I need. Not necessities like toilet paper or water, but those things that your very core hums for, praying on the tidal winds. I always talk myself out of it, right as it tickles my toes or scents the air just under my nose. But a revelation has given me the wisdom to do better. No more can I allow myself to say "No" when I should be saying "Yes."

How else could I ever be happy?

Disney is a 40 minute drive from my new place. Mm, gas prices are hell, but I don't have a car in the first place. However, there is a plethora of bus routes webbing all along Orlando. Some offering rides that are only 2 dollars. I used the excuse earlier this year, "I don't want to be working just to pay to go to work." But. That doesn't apply! I was dumb for accepting it. Four dollars. Just four dollars and I would happily be riding a bus, an ambiguous, bobbing head among the masses. Why not? Why freaking not?
When I corner myself with that question, I can't think of any more excuses. If you let life whip about you, if you never raise the mast, or put the key in the ignition, how do you expect to do anything? This is your life. This is my life. and I refuse to let it slip away, I refuse to be another knot on the family tree's trunk. I will be the pioneer, if I must, and I will branch out. Fear can't stop me from doing the things my heart yearns for. In any situation.
For now, I'll funnel my focus into a job, as all college kids should eventually do. I will practice my dancing all summer. I'll sing and cram on Disney history of every nugget and boulder's weight. Then, once I've learned my schedule for classes, I'll take that two dollar bus ride and audition for a role as a character actor. I will get the job and if not, I will get something of equal merit within the business. I will slave away under the Florida sun in layer of tulle and fur and I will take cheesy photos with strangers. I will not give up. It doesn't matter what rolls into my way.

I've written this to affirm my plans, to remind myself that I do love theatrics, that I love what I do, and there's no reason for me to change my mind. It's just one of my goals, but it's the hardest for me to accept. That needs to change. I want it to always feel like this, to feel beautiful in my heart and mind. Possible.

Because anything is possible.

Some things that I would like to do in my 2011-2012 Freshman year:
  • Make Dean's List.
  • Get a job at Disney!
  • Finish a personal project (or four).
  • Tone up.
  • Improve upon myself.
  • Go to Disney's gay day thing.
  • Learn French.
  • Learn to play piano.
  • Purchase tools.
  • Better sewing abilities.
  • Learn to work Flash.
  • Create an online portfolio!

Question of the Day: Have you ever feared the outcome when you finally have to let it all out?

Tutorials -- Or Should I Say, Rabbit-Do-How's?

Hullo all~.

Seeing as how I'm limited to just doing BTL for a while, I've been trying to think of ways to change it up a little, ne? Q&A's are definitely an option. In fact, I've already received enough questions to fill in an 10 point episode. From said questions, I've gotten another idea~!

Tutorial requests! Well. Not so much tutorials, since I kind of suck at explaining how I do things, but a more centralized approach to drawing and so on. I would slow down the process and explain what or why I'm doing certain steps. Hopefully, these How-Do's would shed a little light into the process of things...

Requests could include things such as:
- Anime Characters
- Objects
- Hands/Feet/Etc.
- Pencil Shading
And, of course, much more~!

On a similar note, my commission site is going under construction and services won't be open for the next 3-4 weeks. However, I'm offering a new option. For an additional base fee of 3$, I will record my work as I do your commission. Each extra hour will be another dollar.

Friday, April 29, 2011

Rune: In This Hour

If ever my life were to be translated to film, the musical score would be vivid and long. No single song would be able to sum a majority of events; there would be no main theme or beat to follow. It would be separated into parts, because no two hour production could capture every important moment or detail. And still, with each segment dissected, each line proposed, None could tell the story better than I.

I am a wanderer, not a ghost.

With each voice I hear, I doubt my abilities to fill the pages accurately, doubt the fire that which feeds my passions. A greater piece of me clings to this ability as though it were more important than life itself. If all else fails, if Nothing else could come of me, let it be their words, their voices. When all has faded, let each stroke of key and quill stand bright. Vibrant with the whispers of each soul, of my spirit.

It is a burden that you can't shrug off. There is no stop or break.

In this hour, this Chapter's End, my score would cease. It would still to the drip of a faraway ocean, ebbing on the shores of our being. And flowing forth from the throat of No One, would come silence. It would fill the ears of those who would watch, and those who would listen would hear mountains slipping. No tick of seconds, no clip of thought to illustrate my moving mouth. Each conversation would house it.

'Til the writer can decide, I'll hold each breath, and when my motives are met, the world will gasp.


Question of the Day: Where do you think you'll be in two years?

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Something Blue

I'm so happy and excited and there are so many little things, but they all funnel down to two words:


Question of the Day: Have you ever been so excited to see things falling into place that you practically could piss yourself with glee?

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Letter II - Lovefool

Dear Blank,

She asked me last night, “Do you think he thinks of me?” He being her future husband. It was cute.

And then it got me to thinking. About you! Kind of. Sorta.

I hope you aren’t somewhere thinking of me. Because if you are, the real me will never live up to your ideas.


Question of the Day: Life is a disappointment. But can you live with that?

"Fuck it!"

A groan bubbled up from her throat. She suppressed frustrated tears and a wild cry. Her heart pounded, fists clenched at her sides so tightly they bled a furious white. The music crashed about her eardrums, each note fighting for attention, punctuating her movements as she jerkily dropped to the floor. Back to the door, she buried her face in her knees. Everything was clutter. Needless, senseless bullshit to fill the space.

"Shut up!"
"Don’t worry about them."
"I need a break from everyone."
"I can’t wait for you to leave."
"They’re just jealous of you."
"She doesn't listen to me."
"Fuck it!"
The darkness chased her further into herself, into the corner of the room where the blinds couldn’t leak any light. A happy song attempted to break the walls of her storm but she tore the headphones away so abruptly that it stung. Rocking softly and staring at the floor, a thousand thoughts, a thousand nothings all ruined her escape. She thrashed her arms, she moaned and flung her phone to the other side of the room.

More than anything in the world, she wished she could scream until there was nothing left.

Monday, April 4, 2011

We Are A Hurricane

Beyond, just to the right, a river as deep as it was wide rested. A brisk wind tossed the waters on smooth curves, carting the scent of fish and salt from the not-so-distant ocean in mouthfuls. Palm trees speckled the healthy green and dusty sand, some blending in amid the stilts of flanking houses, raised to avoid the threat of harmful floods. The road was a dark snake swallowed by the tires of her vehicle only to be spit back out behind her, motionless and tired in the suburban tall grass. She rolled up her window in hopes of saving what little of her curls that hadn’t already been tossed awry. Content ebbed at her senses; welcome yet not quite ready to settle. Part of her said that it was impolite to drop in so unexpectedly. When she rounded the second curve and saw her childhood in delicate blue, the memories that swelled there greatly outweighed any hint of unease.
The roof came to a sharp point, its walls a combination of glass panels and sheets of treated wood. The balcony’s rails stretched out, past the kitchen below, a crisp white from afar but no doubt still as chipped and weathered as it had always been. Something hung there, limp—until the breeze caught, displaying it as an oddly colored fish with a gaping mouth and two strings that kept it in place. The breeze fell and it became an unrecognizable lump once more. Narrow stairs wrapped along the farthest side, came down and disappeared into an addition that had been secured beside the car port. A white truck with decals on the cab window bathed in the shade of the structure.
As she pulled up onto the rise of the drive and parked, she noticed a wide piece of drift wood that had been set out against the base of one of the stilts. On it, in crooked yellow and orange paint, were the words “Honk for Service.” She felt a wry smile grow on her features but she didn’t honk. Instead, she climbed out, careful not to make too much noise as she closed the car door.

-- Aw, I never finished this and now I don't quite remember where it was going. omo

Question of the Day:
Do you know how to freeze time without too many horrible side effects?

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Said the Banshee

It's like gold dust~
Flowin' through your speakers.

Love that song. =u=

She reminded us of the wind.
Her clothes were loose. She wore bracelets upon bracelets that jingled and wrapped about each other.
When she moved, it was as though even the flesh on her ivory stem pulsed with the sort of liveliness that was so akin to a breeze. Imperfect yet abruptly fluid, soft as moonlight and as smooth as the stones at the bottom of an aging river. Her face peered from beyond a veil of yawning curls, a spill of frost lost in autumn’s groves that gently tossed with the rhythm of her gait.
Her fingers silently darted through the air, orchestrating a symphony, tapping the keys of a piano, and plucking at the chords of a harp all at once. It was as though the song was endlessly building, tempted to shatter the host of its breadth, longing for a voice. Her digits sped along unseen stairs, soared in great curves, held tight, kissed the air—dwindled unceremoniously, and dipped into rest.
Satisfied, the musicians bowed and folded amongst themselves until next they had strength to continue the ceaseless piece which mingled in her palms.

Not neccesarily about me, but then again, it sort of is. I don't know. -shrugs. I've been in a really awesome mood lately so I decided to write something. Now that I think about it, my style of writing kind of makes me think of The Most Dangerous Game by Richard Connell. Can you see the connection or am I just being nutty? Either way, I love that story. (Figures it would be about murder, ne?)

On a side note: I hate it when I hear people tell their kids, "You can do anything!" For one, they limit you from the start, so technically. You can't. For two, let's use a simple example. I'm a young woman. And I'm gay. I could NOT be the president, no matter how hard I tried to work among the politicians of today. Maybe in a later year.. if presidents are even still an accredited office by then. (Not that I want to be president.)

That also brings to mind.. I wonder if the gay vote would win an election. O3O

Stupid Economics makin' me all depressed and introspective. Do you see the fault in your stupid graduation requirements America!?

.. Anyone feel like dancin'? Viva la swing~!

Question of the Day: Writers often use the first appearance of a character to display how they will later add to a story they are in. Do you ever like to think on how you would be perceived if you were a character in a narrative? Would you be flanked by cracking lightning or would you be lost among the crowd?

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Takin' Names.

She woke with a strange ache in her throat, nose irritated as though she had laughed too hard while taking a drink. The pleather of the couch was hot; it stuck to her face and the underside of her arm which she had been leaning on. When she opened her eyes, a sleepy but rigid fear struck her. Everything was white. She blinked rapidly, but nothing changed. A cough.
Weakly, she drug herself off of the tired piece of furniture and moved through the living room blindly. Another cough. She could barely breathe. There was something wrong, every nerve of her being told her, sluggish as it was. She stumbled into the bathroom, a dinky little room with bright yellow walls—she could see the yellow. The white wasn’t as thick and she could breathe easier. She closed the door, still blinking as though that would help it to go away. The air carried a foul smell like cleaning chemicals—or…
Moving swiftly, she stepped out of the bathroom and immediately moved to the front door of the house. It was 3a.m. and yet it was unlocked. Why—but she didn’t have time to consider the implications. The door swung on its hinges and a stream of frothy smoke rushed out into the black night as though a vacuum had been situated on the other side of the frame. Without pause, she went to each of the four sliding windows in the kitchen and the living room, pulling them open as far as they would give.
More of the white that had been leeching the oxygen out of her lungs and making her choke now crashed through the branches of trees, over the porch and past the idle vehicles in the drive, vengeful spirits crying unto the hour. Crumbling she realized her chest was sour with the stench, her nose dripping as if it could dispel the torment. The front door was a square of grey cut up by fervent orange and dwindling shade. Her lips parted, flapping like that of a fish you might drag out of choppy waters.
It felt good. A chill bit at her arms, her cheeks and her toes, ushering her, boxing her into the house but she held. Shallow sips of the breeze nursed her sad state, ebbing back the resentful stings that proliferated by the moment.
When the living room had nearly cleared of the bog, she slipped into the kitchen, directly to the stove. A sixth sense directed her through her lingering wheeze to a small pot, perhaps able to hold no more than a pint. It looked deceivingly innocent as it housed the charred remains of something beyond recognition, nestled over a flickering blue flame. She found the knob, twisting away the miniscule blaze. A brief moment passed and her tire had finally inched out of her; she opened the back door and knocked on the wall, stirring the dogs which would bring forth her aunt from slumber.
Together, they completed the task of airing out the greater part of the trailer. None to little of the cloying smoke had edged into her aunt or cousin’s rooms. They had been safe, for the most part, but a frightening clear refrain at the back of her mind told her that they too would’ve succumb eventually. Or mayhap they would have woken to find her suffocated on that damned couch. Alone and piped full of ribbon… She laughed, thoughts fuzzy and thick as cotton, and found the smooth exterior of her cell phone against her palm.


So. Last night, I kicked Death in the ass and spat down his throat.
True story. Yeah.

Question of the Day: Ever felt an urgent need to tell your loved ones just how much you love them?

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Letter I - Starry Eyed

Dear Blank,

This game of hide and seek is kind of funny sometimes. Then there are the times when it isn't quite so fun. I'm afraid that I might shoo you away without realizing it. Would you really be as stubborn as they say you would? This must be confusing.
Yesterday, a polite enough Someone sat down beside me. Out of everyone, Someone always smiles at me and I at Someone in the halls. Why? Because it's polite not to grimace at every strange face you see, isn't it? And besides, call me lazy; it takes more muscles to frown. Well, smile or no, Someone sat on the bench with me. And with a polite greeting on the tongue--I cut Someone off by pulling out my mp3 and turning it up to the highest volume that it would go.
Ten uneasy minutes later, Someone left and I felt the inkling of regret.

Not that I plan on committing to anything any time soon, but imagine, Blank, if I cling to these habits and shy from you? I hate not knowing you, I hate not being able to feel whether or not you're as tangible as Blithe, or Rune, or Carlisle, or as full as Alanna, or Brittany, or Amanda. Sometimes I don't want to and that's when I realize I have to stop. 'Those the steps I can't take, I refuse.' I wish that there were a way to ask you for help in this.
Are you thinking the same thing? Or are you busy building bridges elsewhere?


Question of the Day: The weirdest, most random things worry me at times. Is there anything like that for you?

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Cupid's Bite: A Valen's Poem

A poem--that sounds suspiciously like a spell--for mine beloved.
God of war, arms draped in iron
A roar fierce, the starved lion
Goddess fine, bosom whole untrimmed
A touch warm, soon o’er brimmed

Tempest gold, raging scarlet;
Venus bore a child violet

Petals smooth and destined pure
Curved stem; appendage obscure
Sharp bone beneath soft wings
Of down, these white-hot things
With rose-washed linens below
Roots earthen to healthy grow

Unkind, piercing ebon shaft;
Spiraling flood without raft

Nimble fingers milk-crème tan
Dashed through the heart of man
The beat of tender rest
Kept from thy very breast
Cupid’s tepid, sorry arrow
Swift ‘tween double rib narrow

List, unmoving grounded fiend;
Passion from lovers gleaned

Angel dark, frame swept of satin
A soft song, mingled latin
Lady bright, cored and dimmed
Lonely soul, widely rimmed
Question of the Day: In the words of the dear witch Anfrea: Has Cupid bit you in the ass yet?