Gone

You came to me once
In a dream
At least I think it was a dream…

You smiled at me
Warm and friendly
When you should hate me.
How can you smile here

Enclosed as you are
Trapped within these walls.
You held out your hand
Beckoned me closer

But I couldn’t move.

The grass was cold beneath my bare feet
Still wet
I wanted to apologise.
I think you knew that
But the words wouldn’t come.

And when I blinked
Rows of grey stone crosses faded to black
And it was too late.

You were gone.

The Never Found

Cross-posted to my writing journal, as is most of my creative writing.

The Never Found

The sky is heavy here
A cold grey veil
I can’t escape

It’s stifling here
Where the air is fresh
But alien. I can’t breathe,
Feel trapped.

It is only now that I can
Can bring myself to visit.
Four year passed
So much has happened
Yet so little.

Do you watch us?
You are nowhere,
Everywhere at once.

A stone cross marks the place
Where you should be.
I turn away; I’ve seen enough.

Midnight wanderings of the mind

As someone studying Creative Writing, you would think that Imagination would be one of your most valued tools.

So what do you do if you are actually somewhat scared of Imagination? It almost seems a silly thing to say; how can someone be scared of something that they themselves control? But just how much control do we have over Imagination, really? As children we can be told that we are safe tucked up in bed, but that doesn't stop the shadows coming to life. "There's nothing there," we tell ourselves, repeating the mantra, "it's all in my head, it's all in my head." But to be honest, that's worse than if the Big Bad, whatever it is waiting in the dark that we fear, was real. A physical entity can be hidden from - a burglar about to kill you, for example, might not find you if you hide under the bed or in the wardrobe. A giant waiting to crunch you up as a midnight snack will find you wherever you try and hide. Why? Because it only exists in your mind, and therefore everything you know, it knows. You can tell youself it's not real, but Imagination has an annoying habit of whispering "but what if...?" and thus the niggling doubt refuses to listen to Sense and Rationality.

I used the examples of a burglar and giant because these are two fears that plagued me as a child and caused many a sleepless night. Imagine, if you can, a child's bedroom, rectangular in shape: it is quite dark - the carpet is dark brown with flowery shapes in a lighter shade; the wallpaper, though a white background, is covered with pictures of various breeds of dinosaur repeated over and over, dull greens, purples, greys; the curtains are a heavy, black-out type, brown to match the carpet. The bedroom door is always open - not the child's choice - and yellow light floods in from the landing. Along the far wall is a clothes airer, kept in this bedroom because it is the most spacious. Of course, the combination of the landing light and drying clothes means shadows appear with ease - baggy jumpers and trousers morph into a stranger who has broken into the house and is waiting for the child to close her eyes before leaping from his hiding place and killing her before ransacking the house. The child becomes too scared to turn her back on the room, should this scene take place. She convinces herself that if she sleeps with her back to the wall so that she is facing the rest of the room, she will be safe.

Unfortunately it is not that simple, for the child is a fan of the film The BFG, based on the book by Roald Dahl. It's a vicious circle; she loves the movie and enjoys watching it, but the bad giants, in particular The Blood Bottler, terrify her. She is convinced that they are coming for her, and the fact that her bed is against the wall directly beneath the long window only makes it easier for them to reach in and snatch her from her bed.

Again, she tells herself that if she sleeps facin the window, then they will not get her (I'm not entirely sure I follow her logic. Perhaps, even at that young age, she was trying to literally face her fears? Or maybe that's just hindsight and logic speaking, as is often the case with anecdotes from the past). But then what of the burglar so cleverly camouflaged in the family's washing? Facing the window would ensure safety from being eaten but result in being stabbed or strangled, and vice versa if she faces the room.

Obviously such thinking is illogical and simply the result of an overactive imagination. It is cruelly ironic that what allows such pleasure from creating games to play in daylight can be the same thing that keeps you in Fear's icy grip, unable to sleep at night. Even now, while my dreams generally take a different path (ignoring the fact that yes, I did have a nightmare where the Blood Bottler was after me only earlier this year...), I still sometimes find myself uneasy when it comes to bedtime simply because I don't want to dream.

Perhaps it is natural to fear Imagination, to some extent. After all, it is one of the few things in the world that can go anywhere, good or bad. It was thanks to someone's imagination that the atomic bomb was created.

All I want to know is, how do you turn off your imagination?

mememememe-meme

I know I said I would start blogging properly again, but I figured posting a meme or two would break up the monotony of reading my ramblings ^^ This is an interesting one that's done the rounds recently; I don't usually do this sort of meme due to being unable to think of anything to put, but I shall try...

10 things you wish you could say to ten different people right now...
a) I'm still not sure if you were being serious when you said that, and can't help thinking you were...
b) You've changed. Sometimes I can't help but think you're not any better than the other rude, childish, thoughtless idiots on the internet. But I can't say anything because I don't want to lose you as a friend
c) It's not that I don't want to, but I just can't bring myself to say anything
d) I really wish you'd chosen me. I would have loved the responsibility
e) Does it really matter who did what, where and when? Really?
f) Would it hurt to just shut up sometimes?
g) I wish I could bring myself to hate you and stand by what I told myself (and everyone else) I would do. I still don't understand why I can't
h) You're a fucking hypocrite and I wish you realised how hurtful the things you said were
i) I miss you
j) Sometimes I wonder if you just include me because you think you should, but secretly think I'm annoying

9 things about yourself...
a) I'm studying Creative Writing and English at Uni
b) I have 4 cats
c) My dream growing up was to be a famous author
d) I bottle stuff up more than is good for me
e) My favourite chocolate is galaxy or milky bar
f) I have a teddy bear called Fred
g) If you look up 'fail' in the dictionary it has a picture of me
--okay this one isn't actually truse, but it should be!
h) I love over-the-knee stripy socks and own a ridiculous number of pairs
i) I have an irrational fear of the sea; I won't even paddle in the shallows because I'm scared of being attacked by sharks

8 ways to win your heart...
a) Buy me pizza!
b) Don't treat me like a human doormat
c) Make me laugh
d) Take an interest in what I say/so
e) Don't make me feel like I have an IQ of about 10
f) ...Buy me pizza!
g) Don't act clingy and possessive
h) Don't diss things I like and act like I'm scum for liking them

7 things that cross your mind a lot...
a) Am I being annoying?
b) "I can't do this"
c) "What day is it, again...?"
d) Stuff that's happened in the past that I have a tendency to dwell on
e) Wondering what I'm actually going to do with my life
f) blah
g) more blah. I don't think my mind works like normal people's. I have no idea what thoughts cross my mind, to be honest.

6 things you do before falling asleep...
a) Brush my teeth
b) Get annoyed that I can't sleep
c) Think about stuff that's happened during the day
d) Play out interesting scenarios in my mind
e) Plan out potential storylines
f) Listen to music

5 people who mean a lot...
a) Bug
b) Shiro
c) Janey
d) Saiyu
e) Hestir
plus a whole bunch of other people but I can only list 5 ;~;

4 things you're wearing right now...
a) black socks with little skull & crossbones on them
b) jeans
c) black cardigan
d) my watch - on the "wrong" (i.e. right) wrist

3 songs that you listen to often (currently)...
a) On the Rise - Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog
b) Mr Brightside - The Killers
c) Ash Like Snow - The Brilliant Green

2 things you want to do before you die...
a) Have one of my books published
b) Travel the world

1 confession...
a) I AM GUNDAM!
--okay again, not actually true. But I can't think of anything >_>

I took a walk on the wild side of life / 'Cause I'm not like you

Ah, it's been such a long time since I've posted a blog. Meme's non-inclusive, I mean, 'cause that's kinda just the easy way out of blogging, interesting as it is. It's understandable that I didn't post anything over the summer - limited internet access coupled with Bad Things meant there was quite literally nothing to blog about.

Since coming back to uni though, I think it's more just a case of laziness. I've had several posts planned out, but haven't got round to actually writing and publishing them. My bad.

Anyway, I thought it was about time I got back into the swing of blogging, and not just randomness on my LJ. And a task we were set in class today seemed like a good way to do this~

We're looking at short stories in one of the Creative Writing modules and today our new tutor set us what I thought was a pretty fascinating task; to write a bad short short story (i.e. less then 80s words if possible). We've had to write short short stories before, but never have we been asked to write a bad story. Surprisingly enough it was trickier then you would expect; I've read a lot of badfic on the internet so thought it would be pretty easy to follow the 'rules' that these stories seem to follow: ridiculously pretty lead females, handsome lead males who of course fall in love with the blatant self-insert/Sue female lead, over the top and unnecessary descriptions...

Anyway, this is what I came up with:

Her eyes glittered like the sea in the silver moonlight. The young couple were enveloped in the darkness of the night, unaware of anything outside of each other. The man ran his fingers through her waist-length jet black hair, caressed the smooth, ivory skin of her cheek with his thumb. He wanted to be beautiful like her, young forever like her, and as he felt the sharp sting of elongated fangs sink into the soft flesh of his neck, he smiled.

Lol.