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Christine McVie passed away. Every time we lose another classic rocker it just sucks. Big time. RIP…
Across the Universe:
Alright, I’m going to give this site a try. I hope I don’t lose access to my LJs because of the war, because I have entries dating back to 2004, plus Blogger entries from 2003 I sent over to LJ eons ago. There’s a lot of history there, and I can’t remember my password to the older ones. :( And I can’t remember the password to my email addresses associated with those.
Anyway. Here’s entry #1.
Anyway. Here’s entry #1.
Friends Only
Nov. 26th, 2013 11:46 amThis entry is friends only, barring VERY few exceptions.
HOWEVER, I am open to meeting new people with mutual interests, or even if we don't really have anything in common but find each other interesting, lol.
Just be open-minded when I need to rant. I say things I don't mean sometimes like "I hate my life," but this is my space where I rant when I need to get stuff off my chest in order to not implode. If you can respect that, I will do the same for you. Thanks!
HOWEVER, I am open to meeting new people with mutual interests, or even if we don't really have anything in common but find each other interesting, lol.
Just be open-minded when I need to rant. I say things I don't mean sometimes like "I hate my life," but this is my space where I rant when I need to get stuff off my chest in order to not implode. If you can respect that, I will do the same for you. Thanks!
795. Writing and Creativity
Oct. 22nd, 2013 03:02 pmAnyway. I thought I'd get back to writing again. Including in here. It would be really good for me, I think.
It's a part of me that, fiction or nonfiction, prose or poetic, I've just almost let completely die. It wasn't intentional, but I just realized this summer in particular that except for in school, this is a part of me that I've almost completely let die. It used to be a real strength of mine, and I think it still is. I'm just out of practice. I wonder if maybe I stopped writing because I was afraid of my darker feelings. I noticed that I really stopped writing after the second time I was hospitalized. Subconsciously, I wonder if maybe that was why. I wrote some scary stuff in here just before I went.
I started writing a story the other day. It's going to be set in a kind of dystopian version of the U.S. The political structure isn't central to the plot, but it just sets the stage for the amount of deterioration of organization of the law there is overall, which allows for some character-specific behaviors of the main antagonist. I guess I kind of stole that element from Hunger Games, but only the basic idea of it being after the U.S. is no longer in power- in the future. (Obviously hypothetical, because we don't know how the future will be.) I don't think I've even decided that there was a past cataclysmic event, so really the fact that the U.S. is no longer called the U.S. is about the only thing it has in common. But the dystopian world seems to be a trending idea as of late. I'm excited, though. I'm excited to even attempt at writing again!
I was inspired by a couple of songs: Evanescence's "Snow White Queen," Chamberlin's "Crown," and Rufus Wainwright's "Hallelujiah." Weird combo, I know, but, for some reason they melded into this really tough, resolved, battered girl hobbling and struggling down the dark streets of what once was a city in the Eastern U.S. (haven't decided between NYC and Boston), escaping her abusive husband. It was a match made strictly for survival. She thought being his wife would protect her, but she finds that because of his upbringing to make him strictly a survival/fighting machine, he has completely shut off the parts of him that feel. Okay, so I guess that's kind of a combination of the District 1 tributes and when vampires in Vampire Diaries shut off their humanity switch. But anyway. She's married this completely cruel man thinking being his wife would save her because she's his. She thought he would at least show loyalty and care towards what was his. So now she escapes his house (well so far, I haven't decided if he's going to catch up to her... I'm only in the beginning of the first chapter) and decides to take refuge her first night at a nearby wharf where the city's outcasts and poor stay. I have no idea where I'm going with this story yet, but I want it to be an adventure filled with trust, betrayal, abuse, survival, intrigue, a small bit of sexuality and sensuality sprinkled in, self-discovery.... you know. All of that good thematic stuff. And I know she's going to meet a better man that she at least has a meaningful encounter with, but I don't know how that's going to go or if it will become permanent, either. She's going to have trust issues, obviously, from all of the abuse.
It's a part of me that, fiction or nonfiction, prose or poetic, I've just almost let completely die. It wasn't intentional, but I just realized this summer in particular that except for in school, this is a part of me that I've almost completely let die. It used to be a real strength of mine, and I think it still is. I'm just out of practice. I wonder if maybe I stopped writing because I was afraid of my darker feelings. I noticed that I really stopped writing after the second time I was hospitalized. Subconsciously, I wonder if maybe that was why. I wrote some scary stuff in here just before I went.
I started writing a story the other day. It's going to be set in a kind of dystopian version of the U.S. The political structure isn't central to the plot, but it just sets the stage for the amount of deterioration of organization of the law there is overall, which allows for some character-specific behaviors of the main antagonist. I guess I kind of stole that element from Hunger Games, but only the basic idea of it being after the U.S. is no longer in power- in the future. (Obviously hypothetical, because we don't know how the future will be.) I don't think I've even decided that there was a past cataclysmic event, so really the fact that the U.S. is no longer called the U.S. is about the only thing it has in common. But the dystopian world seems to be a trending idea as of late. I'm excited, though. I'm excited to even attempt at writing again!
I was inspired by a couple of songs: Evanescence's "Snow White Queen," Chamberlin's "Crown," and Rufus Wainwright's "Hallelujiah." Weird combo, I know, but, for some reason they melded into this really tough, resolved, battered girl hobbling and struggling down the dark streets of what once was a city in the Eastern U.S. (haven't decided between NYC and Boston), escaping her abusive husband. It was a match made strictly for survival. She thought being his wife would protect her, but she finds that because of his upbringing to make him strictly a survival/fighting machine, he has completely shut off the parts of him that feel. Okay, so I guess that's kind of a combination of the District 1 tributes and when vampires in Vampire Diaries shut off their humanity switch. But anyway. She's married this completely cruel man thinking being his wife would save her because she's his. She thought he would at least show loyalty and care towards what was his. So now she escapes his house (well so far, I haven't decided if he's going to catch up to her... I'm only in the beginning of the first chapter) and decides to take refuge her first night at a nearby wharf where the city's outcasts and poor stay. I have no idea where I'm going with this story yet, but I want it to be an adventure filled with trust, betrayal, abuse, survival, intrigue, a small bit of sexuality and sensuality sprinkled in, self-discovery.... you know. All of that good thematic stuff. And I know she's going to meet a better man that she at least has a meaningful encounter with, but I don't know how that's going to go or if it will become permanent, either. She's going to have trust issues, obviously, from all of the abuse.
