Story EPIC

I'm thinking of writing and epic story. But it's hard to be a writer and creating an entirely new universe without being compared to one that's already been created. Most of the major universes draw from myth and legend. Well, let's be honest myths and legends are awesome. Not to mention that there are so many versions of the one same thing across cultures and countries. Then there are ones specific to only one culture. They are the result of creativity, reality, crime, and mystery. These four elements are what make a great story. Authors like J.K.Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien set a high standard of what a created universe and epic story should be like. It should draw in millions and entertain the masses. Also, other inspiration is taken from something very common, the pantheon. There are several pantheons. Most commonly known are the Greek/Roman and the Norse.

Remember, Remember the 5th of November.

Roaring flames.

How the light reflected off of my skin.

Delicious cotton candy

Warm Glow

I love bonfires. Don't you? I love everything about them. How the flames roar. The intense warm feeling you get in your gut. How the flames stretch up to touch their sparkling cousins the stars. The slow crackle you hear from the wood splitting and turning to ash as the fire dances between its wooden veins. On the 5th of November (this past Saturday) I went to my first Guy Fawkes bonfire Night and it was Amazing. I got to eat cotton candy and meet up with an old friend I hadn't seen in forever. the music was good and everyone seems to be happy. I also saw a few teachers of course. (Very common when living on a small island) But I think the best thing about this night was that I went all by myself. None of my friends who asked to come didn't. My mother said she would come but didn't. It's the first party I'd been to where it was my decision to go by myself and be perfectly happy to do so. At first, I was nervous to go ALL BY MY-SELF. But somehow I worked out. I watched the fire burn. I hear the snap, crackle, and pop. I saw the embers fly into the sky like gliding fire fairies. and last of all the precious warm glow of a fading fire. (My favorite part) I promise you there is nothing more simply wonderful than a bonfire night. I most definitely will remember the 5th of November. 

My crippling depression.

I write this blog now because I feel the emence pressure of life. Currently, I am crying my eyes out without anyone comforting me. And I'm falling hard back into the pit of depression. I've once again been slammed with the reality of the complexity of my life. And the struggle it bears. I now don't want to grow up. I don't want to go anywhere. Do anything. I just want to be done over with everything. I want to be completely alone with my depression. It took me years to climb out of this cavern and now I'm being pulled back in. It's not fair but nothing really is. I wrote a blog about someone going insane this week but my phone lost almost all of the content I wrote except for the first three lines. After finding this out I'm crying even more because all my hard work I was ready to publish vanished. I feel like the person I wrote about like I'm going insane. I somehow created this illusion that my life was a whole lot less hard than it actually is. I no longer have the desire to excel. I no longer wish to appear anywhere outside my house. I wish to completely disappear. I'm sorry if this seems to offend or seem selfish. But this is all I feel now one empty hole and no wish to change it until it wants to go away. My love for freedom and expression are dead. I'm not ready to relive horror I had to go through five years ago. That took two years to be over and three more years to have a contest silent fight. Yet it seems I'm here again on the same rollercoaster heading straight down.

Never Personal

My blog will never be personal and here's why. There's nothing amazing or awesome about me personally. I'm an annoying little brat who hates her home life and the cards I've been delt in life. Everything sucks. I'm trying my best to care and put effort into things but really I wish I could give and everything be ok. But I never seem to reach any of my life goals. To be happy and ok is such an impossible task. Especially  when you feel and think everyone hates you or thinks you're a b*tch. Nothing ever seems right. And I always feel guilty or like an elephant is sitting on my chest. Being in such a small place you're always judged and squeezed into some societal norm. All the friends you have, all people you met, all the mistakes you make. It will eventually get thrown back into your face to define how society sees you. Remember society isn't just this island. It's family and classmates. All the people closest to you. Even this post is going to be judge. By the reader, by my teacher and by you. I'm sorry but I don't care what you think. This is personal. This is how I see things accept it or forget it. I've had too much sh*t happen to me to give a damn. And this is why there will never be anything personal. I'm not willing to be dissected like a frog.

Wings.

What if we could grow wings? Would they be enormous? What color would they be? I would think the wings would match the person. Including size and color. They be a complete reflection of yourself; on the inside. How would our society feel? Would it accept this wonderful new trait or reject it? Will our attitudes towards each other change? What about the people who can't grow them? I would expect they would be treated differently like an outcast. I would hope that  wouldn't be true, I know I wouldn't treat them any different. Would it be a blessing or a curse? Everything would be different and have to change. Land transport would be a like of the passed. Airplanes gone. Instead it would be wonderfully clean and clear skies. We'd no longer have to look up at the sky and wonder what clouds would feel like? What if they weren't meant for flying? What if we were like ostriches or peacocks? Where our wings aren't made for flight but instead we had speed or beauty. Would we become foreign creatures, like angels? The higher beings we adore.

Maze.

I'd never been to a maze. So when you finally took me to one I was happy. Another wonderful adventure to do as a couple. Something mysterious and fun. Something dead romantic. I felt so warm. I had this giddy feeling. Until I lost you in the maze and I got lost in the process.  I was scared.  This wasn't fun anymore.  I couldn't find you, I couldn't see you.  Then suddenly I found myself in the center and you were there. Waiting. You were smiling.  Oh, how I loved your smile. I felt safe when you hugged me. I looked up at you and everything was perfect.  Then you pierced my skin with a blade into my back.  I trusted you. As I pulled away you plunged the knife into my stomach. Did the spark in my eyes die as I stared into your soul? I tried to run but how far could I go being stabbed. You caught me and pinned me to the ground and I screamed as you thrusted the knife into my chest, continuously.  My blood splattered everywhere. I watched it stain your face. I watched it turn your teeth crimson, while you smiled.  You ruined the thing I loved dear. You betrayed me.  Even while I gasped for breath, pleading for my life. You grew impatient and strangled me. With the little fight I had left I tried to claw at your hands. My lips lost its blushing pink. The color drained down to my neck becoming dark purples and blues to leave a hand printed bruise. I fell into haze only to realize; I'm dead.

Anxiety

Your fingertips are cold and you feel like you constantly need to warm yourself.

Your eyes can't seem to focus on one thing.

Your legs are shivering. 

Everything is heightened, you can feel it all.

It's like you're at the edge of a cliff and the wind is making your body sway.

It's like your body is on fire.

You can feel your blood burn through your veins. 

Your lungs ache it feels like it's filling with blood instead of air.

And your brain it's running at a hundred miles per hour.

At any minute you think you're about to collapse. 

It's always the worse case scenario.

You're being buried alive. 

But there's no dirt.

No hole to consume you.

You're being suffocated by the air around you.

Life is being stolen from your body. 

Sometimes you can't sleep.

You're tricked into believing the world is shrinking.

And if you don't stay wake,

Well, who knows. 

This uncertainty scares you. 

Other times you'd wish you could die 

But it never happens.

The pressure squishes you as if you're being flattened by a roller.

When you finally feel like it's going to be okay.

It comes back. 

It rushes in like a flood.

It engulfs you like a tsunami.

The worst part is it lingers.

Like subtle rage.

You can hear it.

You can feel it. 

And It's never there.

It's not your enemy.

It's your closest friend.

For it's with you always.

You're crying for this pain to ease.

And these pills don't help. 

You can't ever escape it.

It won't let you.

It turns the world against you.

And everyone seems to have an evil smirk.

Ready to kick you and make you hurt.

Their eyes so vile.

Everything they say is ironic,

Their words speak one thing,

Their tone speaks another.

They will never mean what they say.

And good old anxiety whispers,

"See I told you willful child, 

I am your only confidant.

The only one who will tell you the truth."

You give in.

You believe it's true.

Then this cycle continues.

(For My Sissy, I know the world is scary.)