Muses...

I feel bad. I feel bad cause I haven't updated this thing in for-e-everrr. So, I have returned to the blogging world! For like, two minutes of my life. Hahah. It'll end up being longer than that by the time I edit this and make it pretty, but whatever.

Not much to say. Just been in one of those moods where you can just sit and stare at a random object and think about the world. Do you get those moods, or am I the only one? That'd be weird, if I was the only one who thought about the way life really works...

Well, anyway. While I've been AWOL from the blogging world, I've stepped back into the writing world. And man, how I missed that place!

currently listening to: "Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites" by Skrillex

Go check em out cause I'm going back to the writing world. But before I go, one last thought: “If Death dropped by would you let him inside? Would you say hello and wave goodbye to all the things you thought you knew? Would you, would you, die with me tonight?”


A line from my latest muse and I'm not givin' you anymore cause you could totally steal my idea. I'm not even giving you the title of my muse! Cause it's mine! Not yours!

Go think up your own, kay?

<3

Wonderings of A Littler Me

      See, I loved Barbie dolls when I was younger, as a lot of little girls do. Mom had bought me the original Barbie, blonde, blue-eyed, light skin. Ken had brown eyes and dark skin. (I didn’t know she’d picked the black Ken doll for me, I thought that was the only one they made.) One day, I think I’d just put them back in the Barbie Dream House when Mom called me downstairs for something. I don’t remember what she was saying, but I asked her something along the lines of, “Mommy, if Barbie and Ken love each other, why can’t we all just love each other?”

      Again, I don't remember what her answer was, but I know she smiled at me.

      I asked good questions..but then again, I don't believe there's a such thing as a stupid question.

      Smart child I was, smart child I am.

      

The Quiet Contemplation Of _________________

     I left the space in the title "blank" on purpose. It was no accident. I've been thinking lately. Names are given to us to help identify us. But what for? So we don't call each other "he" or "she" or "it"? So that when we're gone, nothing but dust in a coffin, we have something understood to weep over? I'm not quite sure, but I think priests say "from dust to dust, ashes to ashes" in funeral ceremonies. I'm not sure, though. Correct me if you will, but I don't go to funerals so I really don't know.

    Even if a name is abstract, it becomes a part of us from the moment we are born. What if we aren't born yet and are still in the developing stages of life? Do we matter then? We have heartbeats, we have little fingers and toes, little eyes and ears. But who are we? We have names, then, too. We're given scientific ones to label us, to describe us. So what's the difference between words like "Susan" or "Mary" when compared to "fetus" or "baby"? When do we become important? Is the very idea of us important? Or are we given a meaning when we are born? Is the meaning taken away when we die?

    I know it's Valentine's Day. I was just thinking all these things, wondering if anyone feels the same way about life...

    My birthday's tomorrow. I guess you could say I'm supposed to be turning an important age. I don't feel like it's all that important, I don't know how I feel about it, really. I was a little more than a pound when I was born and about the length of a Barbie doll. The docs told my parents they didn't think I would live overnight. My grandmother told them that I was going to be 6 feet tall and a famous tennis star. She was wrong about the tennis, but pretty close to the height range. I'm glad I'm here, of course I am. My father says I died twice on the operating table. My mother says she didn't even get a change to see me when I was born. My name is of the Greek origin, it means resurrection. I still have the little ceramic heart my father placed over my crib in the NICU. It's around, somewhere. I believe it said, "Jesus loves all the Little Children". Something like that, anyway...

    I'm a bit scatter-brained even though I've been sleeping since I got home today. I feel like time is moving too fast, much too fast for me to even comprehend. So it's back to the drawing board, asking a million  questions a day until I'm satisfied with the answer.

    I have many questions today, and I'm afraid I'm not going to get the answers I want.

    I'll ask you, because if you've made it this far, you obviously think I'm interesting. I could use other words to describe myself, but that would bore you. I'm just wondering what names really mean and when they gain that meaning, when they become meaningless. Because I am a girl, you could call me "girl". You could call me by my full name, middle one and all, or you could call me by a nickname. But what do names mean? To you, to me, to the world?

    I'm not a scientist, but I'd say that every name, every word, means something to someone in this world. I'm a writer, and I know that names mean a lot to me, if not everything. I just wonder when they become important, if they ever lose that importance. When do we become dust to dust, ashes to ashes, and when do people stop saying our name as though we matter and start saying it as though we are something temporary, no longer tangible, just another word that gets whisked away by the sands of time? Sans life, sans meaning, sans eloquence.

    Why isn't everyone's name in the dictionary? Does it prove that we are not as important as we wish? Or that we don't have the time, nor patience, to list every one out, to explain their meaning to someone else?

Titleless

     I'm listening to one of the most interesting artists around, in my opinion. She's British.

     Any guesses?

     No?

     Imogen Heap.

     Her voice is just so surreal...puts me to sleep, but in a good way. Not in that other way where you fall asleep from utter boredom.

     If you haven't heard of Immi, you mightt have heard of Frou Frou, which is a group she was in years back but they disbanded so she could go solo and so Guy Sigsworth could get back to producing. the story goes somethin' like that. And if you don't think you've heard of either, I'm pretty sure some of her stuff's been on TV shows. (Grey's Anatomy, perhaps?)

     And in every song (or rather, the ones I've heard), the lyrics seem really simple, but then if you start thinking about it, they'll warp your brain. (or at least, that's what happens to me..)

      So yeah. Go listen to her if you're looking for some new music and you're into electronic/pop. iTunes labels her weird. I don't believe in labels. (Cause labels are opinion-based, and we all have different opinions and tastes!)

       (I'm not pressuring you or anything. If you don't wanna listen to Imogen Heap, you don't have to, man. You can listen to whatever you want, but if you remember anything from this rant, remember this: there's stark beauty in silence)

Hey look Ma, I'm famous!

    So, I see have some followers since the last time I posted. (I kinda feel like the leader of a cult...O_o well, didn't this just become awkward?..) And ya know what? I would totally give you guys a hug but I don't know you so it'd be awkward. Plus, science hasn't researched the whole hologram thing that extensively (as far as we know o.o), so I really can't hug you.

   Anyway!


    I finally got around to making a fanfiction.net account. They're really cool, you can post anything your little heart desires as long as it's a fanfic. (Well duh, right?) And if people like what you've written, they can leave reviews saying what they liked, what they hated, what you could improve, and even help you out if you get stuck.

     I have 21 voices in my head. They won't stop talking...


    ^ A guy said that to me a couple years ago. It was weird. I have voices in my head too, but I'ma writer. I think we have veryy different issues goin' on, what d'you think?

    I'll let you ponder this while I rejoin the real world, that horrible world us bloggers, writers, techies, and all around Facebook junkies have to go back to at some point. And unfortunately for me, it's that time again.

    But before I go, I'm gonna inconspicuously leave these links here..

    right here...


      oops, I lied..

    http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6724643/1/Cant_You_See

    http://writteninink.yuku.com/

    first link - my fanfiction, free to read, free to sign up, all that good stuff. But if you wanan write a fanfic of your own, or review one, you've gotta sign up. (For freee! ^-^ yay!)

    second link - A writing website a friend and I set up. (She did all the complex stuff, like coding and blahblahblah. I don't know how the heck to do all that computer stuff, so I really have no idea how she set the thing up, honestly. >.<) If you're serious about writing and have been looking for a group to join so you can get some helpful feedback, then we're it. You have to go through a horrible screening process where we'll strip you of your identity! (Muwahahaha...kidding..sort of..) A password IS required to get in, just so that random creeps don't join our lil writing site. Cause that. Would be creepy...o_o *activates anti-creeper shield*

    Come join usss...we have cookiesssss...and they're warmmmm...

A quest

My friend and I are on the lookout for an adorable Asian. So, my lovelies, have you seen one?

It's all about perspective...

 Perfection lies in one's perspective. I will tell you this, and this alone. I do not believe in perfection, it doesn't exist on this tiny plane of existence. I believe in sight and symmetry, translucent overlaps between memory and reality. And I will tell you this: imperfections are everything to me, they make you seem less like a dream and more like something concrete, something tangible. I would rather be this, flawed as I am, than be something I'm not, and be perfect.

Tunnels

Where are you, in relevance to the tunnel? Are you just beginning, stumbling through, loneliness clinging to you, or have you found your way out by now? Is the light weak and thin or are you blinded by what's before you? Is it beautiful, knowing where you're going and when you'll arrive? 


Too many tunnels in this labyrinth...