This is my life. At the end of the day, I have to live with myself in my own head. At the end of the day, I answer to me. And I must do things that I would approve of, be happy with, be proud of.

I know who you're meant to Love

Have you ever loved someone?

I'm sure you have. In one way or another, you have loved someone. Or something. Or you're a psychopath. All of which are options; I'm just trying to be inclusive.

I've loved people lots of different ways. Some people I loved enough to not date. Others I loved too much to date. Some people I loved enough to let go. Others I loved so much I couldn't let go.

But you know what the hardest kind of love is?

(This is the part where you GUESS).

But you're not going to guess. You're going to keep mindlessly reading. So I'll give you a little text-room to think.

The past week has been filled with more disappointment, wreckage, damage, insanity, and tears than I care to remember...but it has also held more hope than I have had in years. That's the way it works, you know. Balance. Breathe. Life will come and life will go and at the end of the day you have to live with yourself.

Ok you had better have guessed by now.

The hardest kind of love is to love yourself. But you had better do it.

I love you, but...

...just in case
I ever stop
these will be the signs

mushroom clouds arising
dark, gray sky
spring never coming
whispers of my
existence nothing but shadows

and the gray-green sky will twist
breath tornados destroy
every memory of me
like I fell into a time vortex

and really never existed
because if I didn't love you
I didn't really live
and if i didn't really live
how did i
exist

Day 2 Without You

and the title rhymed

and the little pieces of my life started to fit together
like books on a bookshelf
but with pages torn out
pages that belonged to you
pages that you wrote

and the stories don't all end the same
way
anymore
because something lost
something gained
they will never be the same

and my life continues in a tick-tock rhyme
with words that i don't heed or mind

and i follow the schedule and i keep score
but i don't breathe like i used to anymore

and some days i wake up and you're not here
i reach for the phone and stop in fear

and i can't bear to miss you in this nauseous way
the sun rises on my sickness every day

"and they're all made out of tickitacky and they all look just the same"

and every Swift song becomes a part of me
and us and everything we used to be
and i see your truck outside my house
and i ignore my imagination gettting away
with me

because your love is in every inch of every wall
in my organized closet
in my messy pile of clothes
your love is
in all my old books and in the non-fiction section of every library

and i made a promise, a solemn vow
you won't find me again like i am now
i'm made of better stuff
i'm made of better things
i'm not a caged bird who cries when it sings

you'll find me someday
at the end of a page
composing a story
without bitter or rage

the promise is sealed
the promise is set
I will fight 'til I'm healed
Scars the ghosts of regret

and your love will stay with me
until my dying day
I'll keep it close by
I'll always find a way

To make it through 7... 700 days without you.

Writing a novel

This novel-writing business is much harder than I thought it would be. You have to have a believeable world, likeable or hateable characters, and some sort of plot or storyline.

Or you could write something terrible.

At this point, I think I have to agree with this one vlogger I watched on youtube. Forgive me, Miss Awesome Vlogger, for forgetting your name momentarily. Sometimes you just need to WRITE. And even if it's crap, you wrote something. There's always this beautiful thing called editing.

Apparently I can't get better at writing if I don't practice. Funny, isn't it?

So, in my pursuit of forcing myself to write, I have offered up my creative services to my gaming group. In other words, I'm about to become... duh duh dun!... a dungeon master. *gasp* (For all those of you who still think D&D is demonic, satanic, or cultish...do some research and don't believe everything you read on the internet. Sheesh. Besides, I play Pathfinder. Less calculus.)

What does this mean?

It means I am creating an awesome, storybook, fairytale world suitable for heroes and villains, lovers and fighters, singers and swordsmen. On the plains of my imaginary world my brave friends will venture to bring justice and right wrongs! It will not be unlike Arthurian legend, in some ways.

In other ways, however...I'm at a loss. I haven't completely created my  own world in YEARS! I used to do that sort of thing all the time, as a child. Good thing I still have stories from back then.

Anyway. I'm going to write this book. There will be epic battles, true character development, and perhaps some perspective-switching as I edit and re-write.

...but I promised myself I would write a novel, so write a novel I shall. And if it's any good, I'll share it.

Patience

The difference between patience...

and putting up with way too much crap that you shouldn't have to.

First of all, if you think you're being patient, it's probably because you're already putting up with something that you don't think you should.

I'll be perfectly honest. I think I'm a pretty patient person. In other words, I'm a very impatient person who feels the need to be patient more than anyone else I know.

Now, there's a difference between putting up with what you don't feel like and putting up with something you shouldn't.

You probably don't feel like going to work. Or doing your homework. Or grocery shopping. Or waiting in line. Or being kind to people who are mean to you. But I think you should probably keep doing those things.

You shouldn't put up with people dying, if there's something you can do to stop it. You shouldn't put up with violence towards yourself, be it physical or emotional. You shouldn't put up with bullshit answers to things when you deserve to know the truth.

Otherwise you should probably be patient, listen carefully, and try to be at peace with everyone as much as is in your power.

And you can tell me that I'm naive, and that I have rose-colored glasses when I look at the world. To you, I must say two things.
1. They're tinted pink because they're stained with the blood and sweat of those before me.
2. "Some men see things as they are and ask why. Others dream things that never were and ask why not. ~George Bernard Shaw (a personal favorite of mine when it comes to quotes and plays and such)

I'm a "why not" person more than I am a "why" person. I'm a dreamer, yes. Why not you?

When two people share one body...

Brain Transplant

...and now he (or she)
lives inside me?
whoever that Other person
Was
went through conflictcombatwar

Because now I must know
how many exits?
How do I protect
Those I love.



Which war did I fight?
I can't remember
So they must have succeeded
Someone else inside me.