Thursday, 12 February 2009

Wow, I'd forgotten about this

Yes, I am indeed procrastinating. How on earth did you guess? Your powers of precognition are to be congratulated. =)

I had actually forgotten all about this blog, till I was about to make a comment on Patrick Rothfuss's blog - he's an amazing writer with an amazing beard - and then I was like, oh wait, didn't I use to have a blog here? Lol. These posts are oooooooold. I can't wait till I stop embarrasing myself like that with all that stupid nonsense. Oh wait, that'll probably never happen. Yay.

Basically, what to say? It's been about two years. I finished college with a grand total of two As a B and a C (damn you, German!) and am now living it up on the English and American Lit course at UEA. I hate it here. Do you know why? There are too many writers.

Don't get me wrong. I used to love talking to other people about writing. Maria and I are testament to that. But the kids around here are so PRETENTIOUS. There's a CW colum in the paper and it's full of stuff that is highly intelligent and very worthy but completely lacking in heart. And then you get the writer swanning around fishing for compliments. >=(

Suffice it to say, I'm not having a really great time here. I happened to make friends with the wrong crowd of people in the first semester...writers, if you like....who are all now pretending they do not know me, never met me, and cannot stand the sight of me....actually they're probably not making the last one up. The strangest thing is, I don't know why. I really can't remember doing anything dreadful. Or anything bad at all.

Anyways, the whole thing is rather childish, but it amounts to the same thing. I'm now an isolated hermit. I stay in my room the whole time - save when I have to stock up on noodles and tuna - and try not to get too down about it. The only problem is, it's affecting my dedication to actually going outside for lectures, too. The lectures, actually, are great. I don't mind sitting right at the back of the huuuge lecture theatre 1 or even the tiny room we have to 20th century american lit. figures...I can watch the birds from the windows. The lectures are generally informative and helpful.

It's the seminars I have come to loathe with a passion. I should be at one right now, as a matter of fact. It's very unfortunate, but the powers that be have placed me with most of the said old group of ex-friends, and being more than forty feet of them makes me extremely uncomfortable. I know, it's just my precious ego bleeding. But you should see some of the looks they give me. I wish I could just go up to them and ask them what the problem is, but I lack the spine. It might make thing worse for me.

No, it's far more entertaining to sit around in my room and watch black and white films from the 40s and think about writing my novel.

Yeah...BL was pretty much rejected by everybody, everywhere, so I've given up on that. I'm now writing something that I intended as a straightforward fantasy, but I really should have known by now that nothing ever turns out as "straightforward" when I'm in charge. >_< at the moment it seems more like a poor mixture of a story with a severe identity crisis: it's got gangsters. It's got drugs. It's got teenagers feeling lonely. It's got...heck, what else has it got? I don't even know. The first few bits are posted on deviantart (fictionpress can suck my non-existant balls, the only feedback I ever get from there are more people asking me to beta read their stories.) and there is a link here:

http://rockchick89.deviantart.com/

Some people really seem to like it so far. I didn't really realize at the time, but I think when I first got this idea I had really been strongly influenced by Patrick Rothfuss (yes, the man with the beard)'s epic "The Name of the Wind". The format was going to be very similar, with Tobias setting down his life story...and, like Kvothe, they're both redheads. But then again, I've had a thing for red-haired guys ever since I came to uni. =/ something in the water, maybe? lol. Partly because everyone here is so uniformly conformist >_< the girls all wear ballet pumps and straighten their hair, they're all into the same shitty music, they're all just...boring. And different from me =( I've been looking for people like me, with limited success. UEA is such a hard uni to get into for English, so I think I've ended up with a load of popular, successful "winners" at life. Which is very very bad as I am a fundamental loser, in every sense of the word. I'm just different from them and am quite lonely as a result.

Oh well, just two and a half more years. (Y) then I'm probs going to go get a PGCE afterwards so I can become yet another English teacher with a novel on the back burner. Will I get published? Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Back to the novel...working title "Sonnet to a Blind Man"...it feels odd trying to write something that makes sense. The last two years I've mainly come home drunk at 2 AM and started writing some shit about vampires and supernatural beings....I still feel very affectionate about Claudo+Elise...yes, it's fucked up, yes, I don't have a clue what I meant to happen...but it's just so effing weird that I gotta love it. Hm. Maybe I'll post it on DA. Only had it on FP before, but...

Anyways. It is basically the story of Tobias, a strange young man who finds out that, by keeping a perfectly open mind, he can push the boundaries of reality in this world. He eventually gets chucked out for his pains, and ends up somewhere a little more suited to him...

yeah, that's kind of as far as I've got. Haven't even started on the world-building yet. Ffs. this is going to suck major monkey ass. I don't even know why I'm bothering...

But I am.

I kind of miss the sense of dedication and purpose I had with Shadow Spinner all those years ago. Sure, it was totally cheesy, gloriously bad neo-fantasy at its very worst...but hey, I had fun writing it. These days I only seem to enjoy something if there's a strong chance someone'll get ripped up, or it'll destroy brain cells, or both.

Eurgh, it's just so damn hard to get myself motivated. I'm sick and tired of screwing around - I want to actually write something. Like back in the day with Shadow Spinner. I worked on it for three years of my life before realizing what a load of crap it all is, was, and eternally shall be - but...I had a reason to get out of bed in the morning. I had a nice little vacation from reality, all lined up with nice folks who I knew and trusted, a nice place I understood like the back of my hand...I basically just had a blast writing it. And I've been looking for that ever since.

Writing can be like being in a relationship. You spend so much time working on your MS that after all, it does feel like one. My relationship with BL was one of turbulence - I felt it was a story I very much needed to write, rather than anything else. I had fun writing it, but it was more of a savage, angry kind of fun. Well, it was a savage, angry kind of story. Oh well.

SS on the other hand, was sheer and pure escapism. I've always loved fantasy, but of late have become extremely fustrated with the uninspired, over-used cliches and tropes that litter the genre. SS was refreshingly free of that, and I don't know if I can do that again with another novel of the same genre.

But I have to say, the fantasy genre is looking a bit brighter these days. There are a few good new faces who have contributed works of originality (Scott Lynch, oh mighty and eternally wonderful Scott Lynch, thank you so much!) that make me have a bit more faith in the new generation of fantasy writers. And Ursula's still going strong, bless her.

This just kind of makes me feel shitty in comparison to my own story. It's a double-bladed sword...I want good fantasy novels because I can read them and be transported....but I don't because then they make me feel shitty about my own writing.

How self-indulgent. Blergh. I have an essay due tomorrow and so far I've got a whole load of drivel about the philosophy of writing, as stated by Me. Not quite what they were asking for, but I really don't give a flying wombat. They're lucky I'm here at all >=( but I need my BA.

Anyways, I must depart - I have to venture out of my cave to go and meet my future housemate. She's found more forms for me to sign. Yay.

Evoreshka! Wow, that made me feel nostalgic ^_^ maybe I should rewrite Shadow Spinner...



Wait.







Maybe I should re-write Shadow Spinner!




Okay, so I've thought of this before and rejected it because there are sooo many things that are wrong with it....but.....

Idk. ARGH I'm goign to be late! Must....drag myself....away....

Sunday, 20 April 2008

This is pointless

I'm so sick of my fucking life.



I hate this.

Sunday, 16 December 2007

Back again

I spent ages (roughly an hour) writing a post that reigned supreme.



And now it's gone.



Grah.

Tuesday, 11 September 2007

Ok

So I did something clever with my time. I learnt how to enter the correct time zone in this blog.


London, UK. FUCK THAT, I LIVE IN ENGLAND!

Meh. Weird mood. Getting silly. Want alcohol.


*sniff*

Pissed Off.

Fuck those fucking stupid cunts. They're all so stupid, so eternally clever. Fuck them! I FUCKING HATE THEM! Stupid fucking cunts.

Is it me or them? Was it my fault or theirs? Or both?

Fucking hell. Why do I always have to do this???

FUCK HIM. FUCK FUCK FUCK HIM!

See, THIS is why I told myself "No more relationships. Ever!" and now look what's happened. Stupid boy. If he hadn't gone and messed up my life like this then everything would be alright!

Ok, so I'm exaggerating. BUT FUCKING HELL. GRAAAAAAAAWEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRWE!

Sunday, 9 September 2007

TV Icons

Okay, so there's some orange bitch on the TV, yapping about buget holidays and the fashion industries.

Now I remember why I DON'T WATCH TV.

The McCannes were coming back to Britain and Sky News had reporters waiting to accost the plane they were travelling on. And I was just thinking, is this really nessersary?

Everyone's nosey. Everyone's biased. If Madeline wasn't a pretty blonde, or the parents young, healthy caucasians then who would really give a shit? Not the media, that's for sure.

"We brits love our meat" wtf? Oh, and now they're playing music from The Matrix Reloaded. On a food programme. Is there anyone else who thinks this is just wrong? And anyway, I hate meat. Chicken's all right, but everything else...I really can't be arsed eating it.

I can't be arsed with food in general lately. Ever since being very ill in the summer I just haven't recaptured my appetite. Which is good, I guess - I've gone down to 10 stone. I'd still like to loose more, though. But if I think about it, I'll never loose it >_<

Argh.

The iron keeps on behaving very strangely and firing out sporadic short bursts of steam. I'm sure it's not supposed to do that. Oh well.

Anyways, it appears to be official: Gerard Way is now married! Lol. Thank God Eliza's out of the picture. I don't understand the thinking behind shotgun weddings, though - surely the whole point of getting married is to dress up and have a big day?

Lol I guess it's just as well I'm not ready to be married yet. I've probably missed the point completely. And after witnessing a marriage collapse as spectacually as my parents', then I don't think I ever will.

Hmmmmmm.

I'm meeting Mattman at 3. It's funny, he's like a gay best friend who's straight - I think the only male friend I actually have without an underlying sense of sexual tension. With that out of the way, it's good to just sit and talk, friends.

I had better go and get dressed. I'm still wearing PJs. I haven't taken them off for more than 24 hours now. Disgusting? Maybe, but ever so convinient.

And comfortable :)

Miracle Cure

So this be mine new blog.
Ooh, nice font!

Lol.

Okay, so I've had a blog before, on Tabulas. It didn't work out. Granted, I was, like, 14 and most of my posts were attention-seeking ramblings about self-harm and drunken sprees. That, or quiz results.

Now, at the sober age of almost 18, I can look down at my previous self. And slap the 21-year-old who is waiting to do the exact same thing.

Anyways, I already have a blog on myspace. I use it occasionally. Not really, a lot, though, because having a "real" blog on Myspace is like laughing at a joke no-one else finds funny. In a high school cafeteria.

Ah, it's so good to be able to use my Americanisms again without having some skinhead punk come up to me and slag me off for being "too American".

Haha.

It's so silly. I'm not one or the other. I'm not anything but me.

Hm. I'll post again when I have something to say.

Another day....

Ok, so it's 3:45 PM and I'm still wearing PJs. The ones I was wearing last night, yes.

And I'm pissed off. Chris has cancelled and is behaving very coldly. Kieran also drunkenly confessed. Not my ex, a different Kieran. Now both he and Ian are embarressedly ignoring me.

Ah, sometimes you've just got to laugh at people. Their natural impulses are so lame. But as both dual animal and spirit, how are we supposed to get rid of the base element without denying our own true nature?

Bottom line is, we're meant to be flawed.

So where's the humour in that? I guess it exists only in my need to pass off hurt and "walk it off", so to speak.

My plans for today? Having spent the entire morning online, I now intend to do something with my life and...sing all afternoon. My voice has been sounding a little harsh lately and I'm a bit worried about it - I haven't had a chance to sing a lot this last week, what with college starting and work and German worries consuming my life.

O_o

I should really try to write something, but writer's block is still reigning supreme. Oh, yay. lol. Or I could watch that DVD I got on Tuesday, "Blood and Chocolate" - it looks like the most amazing crap ever, but I liked the title. And since "Ginger Snaps", if it's got females, and werewolves, then....I gotta see it.

My life is really dragging on. Day after pointless day. No love. No friends. No nothing.

I'm not really feeling that bad, though - I've got over that stage. And being muleishly determined to BE HAPPY does count for something.

I miss Maria. I can't wait for the day when we'll be together. One day, I will make all (or at least the vast majority of) my dreams come true.

I am determined.

Saturday, 8 September 2007

Third Post

Okay, so who said titles were my speciality? I like my titles to be functional, and practical, and plain. Just like me.

Lol now you KNOW I'm lying.

So, this rant is about alcohol. I'm alone at12:45 AM on a Friday...uh, Saturday morning. I am also a single 17-year-old in today's Britain.

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME??!?!??!!?!


Whereas this IS my (and therefore, any standard teenager in my situation's) standard first reaction, I think this later on reveals itself to be the usual trap everyone from police officers to your mum (mom for all the americans) and dad's been warning you about since you were five. The "bad company" that drag you into sex and drugs.

Peer pressure. Good old fashioned peer pressure.

It all boils down to that. Even to the point where it gets to you on the inside. It infects you, pollutes you, gets to the point where you can't think but feel its presence.

It's always been the same for all outsiders. Granted, my previous experiences have gifted me with a certain level of paranoia - but I'm sure every high-school outcast will testify to this - that no matter how much you may mock the ones who disowned you, you still secretly want to be like them. Accepted. Cool. One of the pack.

Going to college was a lot better for me, but there are still a lot of lingering high-school issues that are still around. Not only in the surroundings, but me myself.

Another realization: I won't ever leave High School until High School leaves me.

And now Ian's sulking because I won't go on webcam. I told him my hair was a mess and I was wearing PJs - an excuse/answer I thought would be easy for him to swallow. Vanity is expected, even worshiped amongst young females. What happened to Medieval posterity? BRING BACK THE NUNS, I SAY!

*sigh* 1 AM and the news is getting boring. At least four hours until sleep. I wonder what I'll do tonight. I hope Chris'll get in touch for tomorrow's...thing. I don't want to call it a date, because a date implies an understanding, an acknowledgement of a communal feeling.

With Chris....I don't even know what it is we share. It could be rebound on his behalf - sheer and utter sexual fustration on mine. (God, I love this being an annonymous blog...) I don't even know. I think I got over that stage of getting out of a relationship - the time where you'll fuck anything that moves just to reassure yourself that you're still an attractive mate.

Or something like that. I still can't analyse it fully.

Hah. Ian's getting gradually more and more pissed off. I should just go offline and let him sober up. But I won't. Why? Cause I'm so damn selfish. I could and should have said earlier that I didn't have a webcam. But I didn't. Why? A mixture of laziness and selfishness. I was too lazy to invent an apropriate lie - and so selfish that I didn't give a shit what he thought, I knew I'd do just what I want anyway.

Should I have given in? Hm. Maybe not. No, this isn't me just making my usual noises of sarcastic glee. I'm actually thinking about this. But I don't think so. I don't trust Ian.

Poor Dex. He came stumbling over the grass into college today with his face all wet and full of tears. I hung back, in case he wanted his "manly dignaty" preserved in just the presence of Chris - but at length my curiosity got the better of me and I came forward to find out what the matter is. Kirsty's broken up with him. She's saying it's for Uni reasons, but everyone knows she just got bored.

I like Dex and Kirsty, though. Or Dex and, seperately, Kirsty - as it now must be. Good people. Kind. Dex, in particular, is one of those people I feel like I could actually trust. I don't - but I feel like I could. Plus, I owe him. He's helped me out before when I was feeling low. Brought me out of that snake pit, the Common Room, when it was all getting too much.

I owe him. But now he's dropped out I hardly ever get to see him. He's just one more college dropout, another faceless punk working for the Government. And it's such a shame...

My favourite sentance out of the whole conversation with Ian: "kierans a sleaze and aled's fuck ugly, of course im not comparing"

(Once again, I am thankful no-one knows - or cares - about this blog.)

I've got stuck. I've been batting around words pretty well up till now.

Raven Echos says:
ah well
Raven Echos says:
no one takes an interest
Raven Echos says:
im used to it
Stupid girl. "No, that can't be true." That entails the obvious question, "why not?" and if he asks it, I don't have an answer.
Well, not a suitably adjusted and connotation-censored one, anyway.
At last, a responce! "Yep".
Lol.
I should post this. A post this size and strength to remain undeleted accidenatlly is just tempting fate. It's twenty to two and my dad is snoring. One last myspace check...nope, still nothing. I had rather hoped Dewi would have replied to the pointless reply I left him. He comes on, drunk, still asking for PC. You can imagine my responce. I have to confess, it was along the lines of..."ZOMG YOU'RE ONLINE WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK AND STILL ASKING FOR PICTURE COMMENTS!??!?! OMG GET A LIFE!!!"
I'm a harsh bitch.
>_<
Tired. Maybe sleep will come now. Or maybe it'll just disapear when I lie down again. Just like always.
Omg, 2 AM and I'm still a fucking genius.

I miss Pokemon

Now that my blogging tools have stopped translating everything I say into Hindustani, I can maybe make the point I originally came on here to do.

I've been hanging out on the Rumours board of Imnotokay.net - like I normally do. Every time I go on there it seems like someone else is going to bite my head off for simply not agreeing with them.

But because I'm so full of myself and cannot possibly keep my opinions to myself (hence this blog, too) I keep on logging on and posting my opinions, which are generally contrary to what most other people seem to be saying. Then, because I refuse to back down OR walk away, we get into a heated argument about people we have never met and will never fully understand.

Silly, isn't it?

I miss Pokemon. Just the sight of it on some Myspace video was enough to get me all nostalgic. Took my right back to primary school afternoons at Sarah's house, playing the Pokemon board game and watching the episodes, feeling vastly superior that I was now 10, now able to leave to train Pokemon and travel the world and live an unending, uncomplicated existance.

There's something so very reassuring about watching children's TV. Good children's TV, that is. There are good guys and bad guys, but the good is always seperate from the evil and evil goes home with its arse kicked.

This never happens in real life. Ok, so there are some people out there who are good old-fashioned pure, seething evil. But how many "good" people have "bad" tendencies? And how many "bad" people are actually pretty "good"?

It's like the man said - good and bad are just names for actions that people do. You can say "oh, that's a good thing that person did" or "oh, that's a bad thing that person did" but if you're looking for the truth (and are overly obsessed with details and uber-realism like myself) you can never clearly make judgements like that about people ever again.

I think this has been one of the major discoveries for me while growing up. One that Pokemon and Digimon, Max Steel and all the other (boys') shows I used to watched didn't really help at all.

Which brings us to the greatest dilemma of all: truth or pleasent fiction?

And when it's all theoretical anyway, is it even worth the waste of brain power on this question?