Pretty Sure These Are the Psychotic Droids You're Looking For

   There comes a point where you find yourself in the most interesting position in life, a special gray area that leaves you confused and spinning out of control. There's an animal inside that is interpreting that overflow of emotion as a damn good excuse to scream and fight and snarl and drink and break things. You turn the music up higher and let Nickelback and Metallica help you think violent thoughts, entertain lusty ideas and contemplate causing massive destruction. That filter in your brain that normally tells you when to shut the hell up just poofs off to Useless Land, along with all your sense and ability to function. All that control you've painstakingly trained yourself to have dives out the nearest window like Tom chasing Jerry around a really tall cartoon building. It hovers there for a second and waves at you then falls. Fast. And hits the ground. Hard. But unlike Tom, it doesn't pop back up good as new. It's in millions of little pieces. And while you're sitting there, trying desperately to form them back together into something that vaguely resembles it's previous shaping and hopefully, ability to function, all that excessive emotion turns into a tidal wave that picks you up and flings you half way across the world and so far back in time that you can barely stand up when you finally crash into unfamiliar ground. Knights of old are slashing at you, while their horses trample you. All the fight in you comes out as some kind of a mask you wear to hide away everything else and you kick some imaginary ass. When you finally claw your way back to your own familiar Hell on Earth in your own time and place, you're so exhausted and angry at your ineffectual will and strength that you just get pissed and volatile and dangerous. You're growling at everyone and doing stupid self-endangering shit you shouldn't do because when you're like this, the only thing that helps is chaos and fury and pain and passion and lust and that damned vicious and cocky attitude where you remind everyone else that you're a wolf and not a golden retriever. You can go from a sad lethargy to a frightening bloodlust in a tenth of a second and have some idiot on the floor at your feet before either of you know what's happened. You can jump to self-destructive behavior so fast it almost makes you look cool. There are so many emotions beating at your insides with little baseball bats, hammers and axes that you don't even bother trying to seperate them out and put them all in corners for time outs. It's a whole new way to go with the fucked up flow of Life, the biggest bitch you'll ever meet. She knows how to put someone through Hell and much as you want to feel like you're the match she never anticipated, you're not. She'll win in the end. But you want to drag it out and feel like you're putting up a good fight. Give her time and she'll find that one weakness that'll break you. That one thing that won't just break you. That one thing that'll break you, put you back together, break you again, and keep the cycle going. That one thing that no matter how many times it breaks you, you know you'd die without it. The one thing that you want more than anything else in the whole damn world but that can never be yours. That thing that you would die for and that one that you live for. She'll set that one thing in front of you and make you watch it be someone else's everything. When you find yourself in this interesting little gray area, there are really two options. You could walk back into the black and white area, but chances are that there's no way in Hell you're going to make it back because every step you take away from the gray area, it gets harder and harder to breathe. Or, you try to head for the super bright happy color area. But the faster you run, the further it moves away from you, or is it that just you being so scared that it will vanish that you have no idea you're only two feet from it and just aren't moving? Who the hell knows? Third option. You can just go with it and sit down in your gray area and wait for another tidal wave to carry your ass to new and interesting places.

Aveti Grija de Musca de la Ea-lup

The Wolf and The Woman




Turn the wheel and wreck the car.

Squeeze too tight and stop the heart.

Jump too soon and fall too far.

Wait too long and you’ll fly apart.



Crash and burn, it’s bound to be.

Break and bleed, til the world screams.

Watch the room shake around me.

Take my pain to my dreams.



Listen to her howl for release from her prison.

Violence will return her to sleep.

She hunts among the flock of treason.

But she never worries how many are the sheep.



Walk into the barrel of the gun,

Demand that She take the shot.

It would be foolish to run,

But love has nothing to do with thought.



Pick up the pieces and put them away.

Toss the key into the river and hope it sinks.

Still She unlocks the cage day after day.

There’s too much emotion; neither of us thinks.



Walk off the edge and hit the floor.

Need too much and the soul follows.

Love enough and you’ll just want more.

She picks up the bottle and swallows.

Down the Rabbit Hole

I'm sitting alone in my room again. As usual, really. Wondering what it is that lands me in this particular spot so often. Cross-legged on the floor in front of my laptop or behind a book or with pen in hand. Listening to music, to which I'm swaying, of course, because it makes sense and hits home. Maybe chatting over Skype. Maybe just thinking. Why is this where I always end up? Alone. Sad. Grasping at words, trying to make them into something someone else could understand.

If I sit alone long enough, I'll start thinking about other things. Where do I go when I die? Will I cease to exist? I can't wrap my head around the idea of not existing somehow, in some way.

How many mistakes have I made? I can think of hundreds right here and now. How many don't I know about?

What's up with love? Wtf is this stuff? It's the most complicated simple thing that exists in this weird world.

Sometimes I can't even remember my own opinions.

Me in a Bottle of Jack Daniels

“I'm nothing but a lone wolf, misunderstood and labeled to be dangerous.”

“All right, then, I'll go to hell.”

“If you have to think about whether you love someone or not then the answer is no. When you love someone you just know.”

“A girl is a person who screams at the mouse and smiles at the wolf”

“Love is what makes two people sit in the middle of a bench when there is plenty of room at both ends”

“Why join the navy if you can be a pirate?”

“Your heart is my piñata.”

“You know, all writers are vampires and ... they'll look around and they watch you when you're not even thinking they're watching you and they'll slip stuff in.”

“If you are going through hell, keep going.”

“The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved -- loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.”

“Live with wolves, and you learn to howl”

“Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart and the senses.”

“When other little girls wanted to be ballet dancers I kind of wanted to be a vampire.”

“Go to Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company.”

“Democracy must be something more than two wolves and a sheep voting on what to have for dinner”

“The supreme irony of life is that hardly anyone gets out of it alive.”

“Love is like seaweed; even if you have pushed it away, you will not prevent it from coming back.”

“A gentleman is simply a patient wolf.”

“"Nunquam lamiae morde me dice" -- "Never say bite me to a Vampire”

“Believe in love. Believe in magic. Hell, believe in Santa Clause. Believe in others. Believe in yourself. Believe in your dreams. If you don't, who will?”

“There is only one basic human right, the right to do as you damn well please. And with it comes the only basic human duty, the duty to take the consequences.”

“I wanted to make a small movie about a guy and a girl on the beach, but then I thought, wouldn't it be cool if a werewolf was there?”

“A fox is a wolf who sends flowers.”

“If you talk the talk, you damn well better walk the walk.”

“That old black magic has me in its spell, That old black magic that you weave so well; Icy fingers up and down my spine, The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine”

“Leprechauns, castles, good luck and laughter. Lullabies, dreams and love ever after. Poems and songs with pipes and drums. A thousand welcomes when anyone comes... That's the Irish for you!” (And don't forget the whiskey)

“Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the the universe.”

“The heart is the only broken instrument that works.”

WANTED: Angel of Death. Experience Required, That Way It Sticks

Post Removed....but I liked the title, lol. So I left it there.

Casper, You Bring That Back!

Took all day but my room is now quite clean. It never really gets dirty. But it gets cluttered every now and then. I'm the type to have books and papers and notebooks stacked all over the place. Give those stacks time and gravity will eventually decide to make them into piles. Somehow, despite my OCD organizing (which requires all things be in particular places) random small things end up in these piles. One earring, my bookmark, my lighter (I don't smoke) and other things. I imagine this is partly because my sister is always moving things around no matter how much I yell. Also, we do have that joke around here about the playful little spirits who are always taking things and putting them elsewhere. Live here for a while and you start to believe it, trust me. No joke, I will put something down on the table and come back ten minutes later and it'll be in another room. And this'll happen when I'm here all alone. I like to think my near-century old home has character.

This just wasn't my day, I have to say. I started off impaling the side of my knee (super awkward place for injury!) in the very sharp corner of my nightstand. That hurt. Who makes nightstands with corners that sharp anyway? Then I got stung by an insect I couldn't identify. And it stung me in the middle part of my arm where nurses stick needles in (also a super awkward place!). Then my dog got tangled up in his rope so when I went to fix it, he filled my shoes with dirt. I went over to clean them out with the hose and hit the side of my ankle into one of those irritating needlepoint weeds. One of them stuck into my ankle (another really awkward place for an injury!) So, that made for discomfort all freakin day.

But! Yes, folks, there's a but! My room is clean and organized so I'm at least glad about that.

Cheers, Everyone! The Headless Horseman Has Arrived!

Music, music, music. On the one hand, my beloved music is a cruel lover who pokes at my sorest spot. On the other hand, what would I do with myself if I couldn't headbang and kareoke the night and early morning away to it when I'm so damned sad that I want to drown myself in a bucket of water. Oh yes, a bucket. Because I'm morbidly whimsical that way.

I'm so distracted. So out of it. So....AHHH! Confused and emotionally mixed up right now. It's weirdness and insanity.

"You'll never see the moments coming that will for ever mutilate your life-at least not until after they've mowed you down." (SAVITAR)




“Of course life is bizarre, the more bizarre it gets, the more interesting it is. The only way to approach it is to make yourself some popcorn and enjoy the show.”



“To love is to risk not being loved in return. To hope is to risk pain. To try is to risk failure, but risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.”

“Love is like seaweed; even if you have pushed it away, you will not prevent it from coming back.”



“Trying to make someone fall in love with you is about as pointless as trying to control who you fall in love with.”



“If you have to think about whether you love someone or not then the answer is no. When you love someone you just know.”



“Love is what makes two people sit in the middle of a bench when there is plenty of room at both ends”



“The supreme irony of life is that hardly anyone gets out of it alive.”
 
And so many more things of the like are dancing about my head, demanding that I find myself a muse so I can spill them out on paper or computer screen or whatever medium is most convenient.

*Rolls The Dice*

Wouldn't life be simpler if you could just roll the dice and see what you get? Option seven? Awesome. Let's go with that.

Hmn, let's try this out and see if it works. I'm going to write out a list of options and I'm going to roll a set of dice (really) just to see if this form of decision making works.

1) Just say yes
2) Hold on for what you really want
3) Eat a cookie
4) Just end it
5) Read a book and ignore your problems
6) Lock yourself in your room until the problems go away
7) Cut ties with everyone to avoid future problems
8) Try to make everyone else happy
9) Run away
10) Ask someone for advice and go with what they say
11) Blog about it pointlessly ^_^
12) Roll the dice again for another answer

Ok, now to go and get the dice out of the Yahtzee box

Hahaha, number 8. That figures. So the usual then?

I should never do these sorts of experiments.

This Would Be The Perfect Time To Get Fairy Godparents

Annoyed. Lonely. Depressed. Tired. Disappointed. Mad. Sad. Probably crazy. Loving. Hating. Wanting. Crying. Don't ya hate it when you're feeling fifty things at once and you know it? Normally we aren't aware of more than one or two feelings at a time. We're pretty good about that. But sometimes you're feeling it all at once and it bites. Not sure what to feel because you're feeling everything.

Creative. Defeated. Broken. Excited. Scared. Embarrassed. I'm actually not just throwing random things in, either. Just the ones I'm feeling right now. Isn't that weird?

Impatient. Mortified. Rejected. Insulted. Apprehensive. You ever just start to feel like you don't give a flying Sharkey....'s knitting needle....about anything in the world anymore? Just could care less whether you live or die, what you do, where you are. You're just there. Going with the flow and feeling like you've completely given up. I'm at that stage. It's not a nice stage. Or at least I would think it wasn't a nice stage, if I really cared what stage I'm at.

Confused. Worthless. Angry. Miserable. Stupid. Like I'm in a constant state of pain. Like crap. Can't forget that one.

IN love. IN hate. IN who the hell knows what? Getting lost in books and in tv shows and in daydreams. Anything but reality.

Standing under the showerhead and just staring at the wall, hoping it's going to start talking back in a wise-sounding voice that seems to know the answers to all. Like the giant turtle thing from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Spill it, Timmy. Where did you get Cosmo and Wanda?

Eros, You Are So Losing This Battle To Eris

"Love is one big complicated board game that no one knows the rules to and everyone is playing their own way. We just keep rolling the dice and scooting across the spaces around and around, hoping to eventually land on the right one." ( from my un-published novel, which will end up as popular as Brian Griffin's "Faster Than The Speed of Love")

Men, love, people, life, *screams on the inside*. Good grief. Complicated. Annoying. Wild. Depressing. Trying. Failing. Screwing up. Guy one. Guy two. Guy three. Random chick. ^_^ Oye ve. Relationships bite. Like a virus-carrying mosquito. Sharkey disagrees, since she votes the mosquitoes kill you quicker. Which is true.

Life is never like it is in romance novels. Lol. No sexy dark-hunter to love you despite your flaws, who comes out of no where, larger than life, totally bad ass but sweet and caring too. Ha! The women who are supposed to be "average" or "flawed" in those novels are like stunningly perfect next to the real thing. I would LOVE to be the kind of "average" the women in those books are. Man, I love my books, but they can be SOOO depressing.

Love. WTH? Yeah, that pretty much defines it. It's supposed to be the ultimate in the world. The best and worst thing. The greatest treasure. It's more like complicated, exhausting, irritating CHAOS.

A Witchy Note

   I will probably be gone this weekend and I just don't update my blog enough so I shall post my little message now. This weekend is Lughnusadh or Lamas or Harvest Day, whatever you want to call it. So I wanted to say Happy Lughnusadh to all my friends that celebrate it.

Btw, my favorite Wiccan just started up a blog and podcast for fellow Wiccans and Pagans. So, check out The Witchling Hour. There's a link on my page.

Here, Talent Fairy!

   You know what would be really nice? To have something to myself. Something that makes me unique. Something that no one I know does or does better. It would be nice if just once everyone didn't do everything better than me. Everyone else I know has "a thing" and I don't mean that in a creepy over PG-13 way. Everyone I know has something that they do that no one else can manage. Mediocre just bites. I want to find the Talent Fairy, probably located in Talent, Oregon (yes, this is a real place) and I want to steal her bag of Talent Dust and switch it with the Boredom Fairy's Boredom Dust (stolen last month at that Fairy convention I crashed. You'd be surprised where a pair of sparkly purple wings will get you).

I Need to Get Published Yesterday

I've been published now maybe....eight or nine times? (Not counting our lovely highschool publication ^_^) In various anthologies over the years. What I need is to get a book published. Wouldn't it be nice to make a little money doing something that you love? I'm surrounded by writers. All my friends and I write. Wouldn't it be fantastic if we were the next Rowling, Kenyon, King and Koontz? I'm not optimistic or stupid enough to think I'll ever make a living doing this. Not that I wouldn't LOVE to. But it would be so nice to have a little help paying for school by putting my love for writing to work. My best friend and I have finally come up with the perfect plot for a story we started up way back when I was a sophomore in highschool. If we can just get it written, I think it might actually be good enough to be published. Will we become famous? Probably not. Rich? No way. But if we're lucky we might get ourselves a little pocket cult fandom somewhere who thinks we're awesome. It would be great to be one of those authors that a some group of random fangirls somewhere writes weird fanfiction for.

Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death

I have to get up in like four hours. So what am I doing still up? Some combination of creative juices flowing and just that I never get to bed anytime before five anymore. Consequences be damned. In a few hours it's off to help my friend paint her room. What I want to do right now is write. I've been wanting to write for DAYS. I can't wait until this next semester starts. I have time to read and write when I'm in school. Free time on campus and that trick at home where I write under the guise of homework. Muhahahaha. Greatest reason to take Fiction Workshop. Writing for homework? Best kind. I grrr at my math equations. But getting to write a little fiction makes up for that.

Disclaimer: This is an Airbender Spoiler

So, the new movie The Last Airbender is based on this EPIC tv series Avatar: The Last Airbender. The story follows the adventures of Aang and his friends in his quest to defeat the Fire Lord and bring peace to the four nations. The series is fantastic. Naturally, we've all been waiting for this film since long before there was talk of the film. And now that I've seen it, I can honestly say that I have never been so disappointed. It's depressing, really, just how much it's been butchered.  It's a freakin American made tv series and yet they decided everyone needed to try to put an Asian sounding spin on it because it's Anime, no matter how white the characters are. Newsflash, the nations cover the globe. Not just Asia. Oye ve. They changed names, they took out key characters. They even took out things that make the characters who they are. Katara's hair loopies and Sokka's dumb jokes, for example. Not in there. And I hate when films go out of order or worse, add stuff in. I swear, not once have I seen a book/tv show made into a movie and the movie turned out decent (except in the case of Lotr and Fullmetal Alchemist) Overall, when a book/tv show is turned into a movie, they butcher it. They don't do it justice. And it kinda hurts. On their own, some of them are good films so long as you are not a rabid fangirl for the books or tv show. In this case, this is a much beloved series that they totally destroyed on screen. And to make matters worse for them, the film cannot stand by itself. If you haven't seen the series, you'll have absolutely no idea what in the hell is going on. GIVE US THE KYOSHI WARRIORS! AND THE CABBAGE GUY! MAKE SOKKA TELL DUMB JOKES ABOUT MEAT! And don't get me started on how much I wish you hadn't cast Zuko the way you did. Or Uncle Iroh. Not to mention, Azula. Ew. Just ew. I've never been so disappointed in a film before. Which is particularly sad because I had damn low standards for it in the first place. Instead of making that awful movie, the Avatar writers should have made another book for the tv series, the only flaw being that it ended on a complete cliffhanger.

Like All Good Little Sheep

So, I have a Livejournal now. I have like every popular freakin thing now. So, yeah, I'm darkhuntress137 on Livejournal. Fun stuff.

From Big Bad Wolf to Winnie the Pooh

   No one is afraid of me now. I remember when people used to jump out of their skin if I so much as grinned at them. What am I now? I'm about as threatening as cotton candy.
   Now if I tell someone to get the fuck away from me before I break their arm off, you know what they do? They giggle and hug me. What the hell is that? I used to be a force to be reckoned with. Now I'm a stuffed panda you stick in the baby's crib.
   I've gone so soft, I'm freaking pudding. I am so nice that it seriously pisses me off every time someone says I'm a bitch. Clearly they haven't seen mean. I used to be the Queen of Mean. No one crossed me. Now elderly people would have the wrinkled balls to poke me and hobble away laughing.
   I never used to need defending. I never needed a body guard or backup. I was the mother fucking atomic bomb, not the president sitting in his office chair pushing on the Easy Button.
   I did what everyone wanted. I went all nice and huggable. But now no one respects me. And I'm still not good enough. Fuck. Now I don't even have an identity AND I'm still miserable. I'm so damn timid, I want to shoot myself.
   I can't even scare outsiders anymore with my damn friends disrespecting me in front of them and picking on me. Shit. This bites. At least when I was the Ice Queen everyone hated, no one had the guts to say shit to my face out of fear that I'd either break some of their bones or put a hex on them with one of the black magic vodou dolls they assumed I carried on my person. I guess I traded in one evil for another. This is my life. I'm not exactly permitted to get an upgrade.
   All I was trying to do was be a better person. But I've pretty much realized I'll never be good enough. And now it's too freakin late to go back. I'm stuck in this awful cotton candy nicety shit.
   I don't like myself. Never have. Don't now. Probably never will. And I don't really care anymore. I give up on trying to be something that will let people like me. I'm tired of trying to become something that is for everyone else. I think maybe I'll try out my misery without trying to be something I'm not. It may be time to face the facts. I'm just a fucked up jaded bitch with a serious case of needing to go crawl into a hole and hide from the world.
   I swear, the next person at school who thinks its ok to throw stuff at my head or call me a fat bitch just because my friends make fun of me, is going to lose an arm and a leg and I won't give them a refund.
   I never wanted to do anything to anyone. I just wanted the world to leave me alone. I only grew an ice cold heart and put on a bullet proof jacket of bitchy because I was tired of bleeding all over the bedsheets.
   I tried so hard. I made so many changes. Just to please everyone else. I made myself into something that isn't me. I'm just as miserable as before and no more liked than I was when I was mean. And now I can't go back. I'm not sure I'd even know how.
   I just hate what I've become all in an attempt to make people love me. It only made me hate myself more.
   I make the conscious decisions to change things about myself. All the way down to my handwriting. I am so controlled, it's crazy. I changed myself to all the things that people wanted me to be over the last couple years. And it's driving me nuts. I'm even more controlled now than I was before.
   Is it any wonder that I spend more time wishing I could go to sleep and never wake up than I do wanting to get up in the morning and go out into the world? If I could, I'd lock myself in my room and never come out again.

Three A.M. IM

So, I'm IM Conferencing with Brian and Mark. Well, they're conferencing. I'm kinda just there. Since I lack a part in the conversation, I decided to go and blog. And then type HA into their Conference. And they won't know why. It'll be because I'm talking about them on my blog. So Ha.

Made Of Fail

I want to write. But I just can’t seem to make anything show up on the page. Likely it’s due to what I’m feeling right now. Writing is so near and dear to me. It just seems right that I would be good at it. But I’m not. I’ve been writing for half of my life. And I suck at it. Almost ten years and I have made so little progress. The only significant difference between my work from ten years ago and now is that my vocabulary has gotten a bit better. It almost makes me want to stop writing forever. Perhaps go in search of something I can do somewhat decently. There must be something. At least, I would hope so. But I can’t stop. It would be like ripping an arm off and throwing it away. So what am I supposed to do? Keep writing crap or start spilling my own blood? Ugh. Where’d my pen go?

Damn it all to hell. I want to write. No, this isn’t writing. This is….ranting? Raving? Rambling? Reiterating my innermost thoughts? What is it? Self-pity? Yeah, that’s the one. Blogging? Journaling? All of those things.

Muse, why did you ever inspire me? Why did you do this to me? What is the good of being driven to do this, this thing that I love, when I do not have the skills for it? Then it just hurts. It’s like giving someone the undeniable urge to carve life size figurines and then letting them have access to a woodshop when they’ve never before even been in one. Who chose this gift for me? The drunken bitchy fairy from Ella Enchanted?

And why do so many people have to be so good at the one and only thing I want to do? People who have a writing career that’s lasted ten minutes can write a better piece than I can and I’ve been trying for ten years.

Shouldn’t people love what they are good at?

God, is this some sort of cruel joke because I haven’t been a good Christian? If I had been a good child, would I have fallen in love with something I was good at? Would I have been able to play the clarinet or paint a masterpiece? Would I have been smart? Or pretty? Yeah, I know. It’s not the man upstairs to blame for me being made of Fail. I probably just gobbled up a lot of Fail as a child. Or beat out all the Win during those “beat your head against the wall” tantrums from my youth.

My Memory Muse Died

Ugh. Just ugh. Sometimes there are little things I tell myself I'm going to write down and for the life of me I can't remember what they are when I finally get to a piece of paper to write them down. Dammit all. I just had one of those moments. I hate those moments.

Sweet Blog, I have missed thee

Damn, I missed this thing. I don't even know what to rant about, I'm so thrilled to have it back. Hmn.....

Ok, how about this.

So, I was watching Merlin (the newest episode) and was quite amused to see Uther's face upon realizing that he had not only married a very disgusting troll but that he'd also consumated said marriage with said troll.

That was it.

I can't remember what I wanted to blog about today. I'm being so distracted by the how glad I am to have my blog back that I have no idea what my idea was.

So.......

Peace out.

I shall return.

Maybe not tomorrow, since I have class and will be out late....

But definitely Thursday.

If I were the Happy Type

I would jump around for joy because I have my blog back! YAY!

Help me out here, Technology Gods

So, I went through every setting on this thing and I think I fixed the problem and should be able to see the text in here now. *almost hopes*

Ugh. Still not working. I wonder why not. I really miss this blog.

http://totally-a-wannabe-author.weebly.com/

Drat. I am going to have to get a new blog. This thing is not working.

*growls and curses in French* Blog still not working. But I don't want to get a new one...