Poll: I'M CLOSING THIS ONE SOON TO START WRITING THE NEXT CHAPTER SO PLEASE VOTE FOR THIS ONE BEFORE YOU DO ANYTHING ELSE!Okay here's the thing I was thinking about what if I made Mickey end up going to the wrong time period and instead of ending up where Link Vote Now!
Author has written 7 stories for Legend of Zelda, Batman Begins/Dark Knight, Dragon Age, Elder Scroll series, Inuyasha, and Vikings.
A blank white screen can be the most taunting thing sometimes. Not really knowing what it is to hold meaning yet knowing the amount of potential that just stares at you waiting for your own thoughts to pasted onto itself. It's infuriating really. Like trying to watch yourself change into what you wish you were through a looking-glass. Silence is typically the solution to this problem but all I get is the soft humming of electricity. The humming slowly becomes louder and less tolerable. Now it's buzzing. Soon thoughts spring from the buzzing; words that having been stewing in my mind my whole life. Words that I have ignored the existence to all these years.
Betrayal is the first. How could he do this to me? Leave me here crying while he chases some tramp down to Florida? Why did Dad never tell me he wasn't leaving me for ever? How could God make me the person I am and let me compress all my imperfections into my bones making me hard as diamonds. How could let myself betray my only hope for sanctuary for the fleeting bit of happiness I found in being a simpleton.
Lies is the next. How warm and sweet they are. We create them to make ourselves feel less lonely when we hate ourselves. Everyone just stop lying. It doesn't help knowing the truth from history and then finding out that someone cannot be trusted. Not knowing when you can trust yourself isn't any better. I love myself. Lie. Oh how pretty I look today. Lie. I get away with it because I'm charming! Lie. Mirror, why do you lie to me too?
Pathetic is the third, but it's something I came to terms with. As long as human kind continues with emotion we ALL will remain pathetic. Either over dosing on emotion or hiding away behind a mask of logic, both end up with my loss. I am a pathetic human being.
Lonely... Never ends up being a word, but a way of life. If there was ever a word to describe myself it would be lonely. No sisters, only brothers. No fathers only Mothers. No friends only acquaintances.
The humming and buzzing of words vanish into a silent film of memories and contradictions in my mind.
I'm not alone. I may only have brothers but there are four of them and they've held me up from the start. My lack of a father didn't happen because he didn't want me, but because my mother cared too much for me to let me be near him. They are my friends though at times it feels like they are years from where I am, but I wouldn't trade any of them for the world.
Pathetic I am, but it's part of a learning process. Even as a baby you fall plenty of times before you can stand on your own feet, then you learn to walk, and then if heaven blesses you with it, you can run. I may have issues now, and not have a clue who I am but if I take my time and dust myself off I know I will learn to love with my heart and be a stronger person.
Lies aren't always lies. Rather they are truths that are only able to be seen from one point of view. I love some of me. Truth. Beauty is irrelevant to who I am. Truth. Mirror, thank you for having some insight to myself, because I obviously couldn't see what you do. Sometimes lies are all you need to know that you can trust someone with a piece you don't want to show the world till the day you die. Even lies are sometimes beautiful.
Betrayal is a joke. He never loved me but I will always love him. If she makes him happy I hope she treats him well and shapes the hell up. Daddy came back for me eventually. Sometimes it's just a matter of having enough faith that the other person will come home to you even if they shouldn't. God screwed me up, but I'm thankful. I'm nineteen, and not pregnant nor a mother and still have the love and hope from my own. My skin had become thick enough for me to not care about how much I made but rather just to be happy enough that I can stand on my own. I like to find solace in independence.
Still, with the symphony of thoughts stringing along the screen before me is dormant. None of my thoughts are good enough, because they are ordinary; ordinary and specifically my own.
Hey.. Sorry for the random essay I wrote it all on notepad but it won't save and I'm trying to get on fictionpress.com... Curses.