Ctrl+N

It feels so good to delete all the rubbish and start over again. There's something almost sacred about a clean slate and a fresh start; a white piece of paper, (or screen, if like me you've finally admitted defeat and moved into the 21rst century). I sit, watching that little black line of the cursor dancing. I've recently acquired my own laptop, so I no longer have to lug around the behemoth of desktop PCs each time I get that paranoid need to change writing rooms.

So here I am. Talking about clean slates just there and it made me stop and think. It's something we all wish we could do at some times in our lives. Lately I seem to have contracted foot-in-mouth disese. I say things without thinking of other people and (for shame) not caring. More often than not, I find myself wishing I could turn back the clock, slow down time, erase. Ctrl-alt-delete - pause everything. If life only had a 'undo' button.

But where would be the fun in that?

For every one of our mistakes - those words that would have been better left unsaid - there will be mirrored moments of perfection. One thing cannot exist without the other. Black and white, good and evil, big and small, soft and hard, love and hate. Paired. Maybe if we had that 'undo' button we could make our world perfect. Maybe there would be no war, no pain, no suffering. Perhaps babies would not die in Africa because the West didn't care. People would not go hungry and there would be no poverty. The rich would walk side by side with the beggar and the wolf would 'dwell with the lamb'. There would be no hurt, no grief for those we've loved and lost.

But everything we know, we know in respect to an opposite. 'Good' cannot be good without the 'bad' to contradict it. We only know 'well-being' because we know 'hurt'. There is no safety without fear; no innocence without evil. And how would we know how pleasure feels without first feeling pain? It's a cynical way of thinking, but a 'perfect' life would be no way to live.

I suppose, in that way I’m blessed. I will never be perfect. For all the things they know I've done, I have darker secrets still. Those hidden truths are what really condemn me. No, I’ll never be given a medal for all the things I’ve done. I'll never be a hero. No one will ever wish to walk in my shoes, nor follow in my footsteps. I'm nobody's angel. I'll never go to heaven. But I'm still alive.

And so alive! For the little I have seen in life, I find myself craving more. It is an instinctive human desire; to live, to survive. Life is color - the rush and the swell of a never ending tide. Up and down, water crashing against shores like it has for generations come and gone. The river, for as long as it has been there, has never once stopped. Water, always moving, always flowing on and on, never stopping. Life is; blue skies stretching to endless horizons; the curve of the Earth on the sea; the brush of another's skin against your own; two lovers; one heartbeat; one soul.

I'm laughing, looking back, reading this. I've become carried away in fantasy again. I suppose that's what I do. When the world gets too big and my life seems so small, I disappear to somewhere I don't exist at all. Inside the pages of books, worlds collide. Imaginary personifications of Good and Evil battle over humanity. A novel is a world within a world. A perfect reflection of what one person sees in life. I suppose it's a bit like being inside someone else's mind. The rules are different here. You can live forever. The characters will still live and die between the pages of their fictional world. But when I’m finished I can just turn back to chapter one. And start all over again.

Ctrl+N.

New page. Fresh start. Clean slate. Let’s see where this one takes us.

About me;

Who 'I am' is a pretty fluid concept. Like most people, I am many things. It is hard to sum those things up in so few words as I am allowed (for modesty's sake) on this page. But, as I like a challenge, I shall give it a go.

I am; an artist, a writer, a patient (and maybe in the not-too-distant-future, a doctor), a fighter, a lover, and a lonely child too far from home. I have been told that, while amiable, I can sometimes be a tad aloof. I tend to prefer my own company, but do enjoy mixing socially on my own terms. I love to draw, paint, sketch, sculpt, fold paper, whatever. If it keeps my hands and mind busy, I probably do it. I especially love to read. It fascinates me, to see each author's perception of the world and of other human beings. I love when, with each chapter of a book, you are able to peel back another layer of a character, revealling the choices and flaws which make them who they are. Secretly, I wish I could make a living from being a writer, but I am sane enough to admit that will never happen. So, instead, I daydream and to write about said daydreams online.

I don't like; arrogance, hypocrisy and injustice. Obnoxious or ignorant people. People who think they will get something for nothing. Washing dishes and the ensuing pruning of hands. Small square rooms and small square windows. Felt. Owls (I have no idea why, but they terrify me). Flourescent lighting. Curved mirrors. Froth. Sand on the tongue. Cheap wine. Pickles. Dissapointingly fake leather. Custard - for there is no point to it. Wetness. Trees without leaves. Missing her. Missing him. Missing home.

I love; losing myself in crowds. Sitting down on escalators. Pretending to be very, very rich and asking to try on ridiculously priced items. That quiet, philosophical stage of intoxication, when the world moves in slow motion. Strobe lights. Standing still, surrounded by a crowd dancing in perfect synchrony. Shoes: never buy cheap shoes, a good shoe is always worth the money. Eating peanut butter on sandwiches. Eating peanut butter with apples. Eating peanut butter on a spoon, directly out of the jar. (I may have an unhealthy appreciation for peanut butter). Waking up and thinking it's a work day then realising it's a weekend. Friday nights. Sunday mornings. The slap of trainers on asphalt. Marathons. Pushing my body to the absolute limit. Running at sunset along a beach in the surf. Cities at night. Rome, Singapore, London, Chicago, Paris from le Basilique du Sacré-Cœur. Watching someone when they don't know they're being watched. Hearing 'your' song on the radio. Christmas lights. Snow on eyelashes. Frost. A view from a high place. Forever skies. Prairie roads and their never ending horizons. Open fires and glowing embers. Hot rushes. Heartbeats. Having a secret so incredible that no one else can know. Lover, skin on skin.

All in all, I am healthy and free, and that means I am happy for now. I am still young enough to be looking for the rest of me. If you want to know more about me, read my fiction. I tend to put myself across through my characters. That's pretty much all I'm willing to divulge at the minute. Thank you for your interest.

Silver.

HELLO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE. AS OF NOW, DUE TO A REQUEST FROM A FELLOW FANFICTIONER, I HAVE A LITTLE POST SECTION AT THE BOTTOM OF MY PROFILE PAGE. (ISN'T IT EXCITING!!)

~Notes & Ravings~

I have my internet back. I do apologise if i've not responded to reviews or PMs... things have been a little hectic at the moment, and I'm a bit ill. Many thanks for your support.