Here’s a little literature-inspired ramble for ‘ya’. It, like every other story I tell, felt so good to get out onto digital paper. Funny thing? I hadn’t known before an hour ago that I had something to say:

Us roleplayers, we’re not all that different from the Suicide Pac(k)t (reference to albert borris’s book). Going into this online writing relationship, every one of us has problems, and most are seeking ways to handle or solve those problems. You might have grown up in a poor home where you never got to wear or eat name brands. Your parents may have loved you too much, overbearing and pressing in on your life from all sides, or never loved you at all; they could have been cold, money-calculating human beings with no sense of how to raise a child with love. You might have never had a romantic relationship – you might be too ugly, too fat, too lanky, or too young; you never felt like you belonged in the crowd you had to belong in. Someone once told me that every writer in this community has a story, a reason why they are there and not out shopping in a mall somewhere, and he is absolutely right.

Loneliness or “the itch” are the two main factors I’ve recognized in my fellow roleplayers, and I know that both exist in myself at the same time. Loneliness develops naturally, from rejection or instability or both. The Itch is the craving that some creative peoples feel in the “gut” of their mind. It’ll push them to do something, change something, but until they really sit down with a pen, paintbrush, or a ball of clay, they can’t fully understand what it is they are supposed to do.

The moment I wrote my first story, I knew that I’d found something to satisfy that itch, albeit temporarily. Other kids feel that roleplaying gives them a chance to live in a different world, maybe even a fantasy world like Pandora or Middle Earth, where the sky (i.e. administrative rules) is the limit, and life always has an off-switch. With the internet, if you are so frustrated that you need to get up and walk away, you can. It’s as simple as that. No one is going to follow you into your room when you don’t want to see them, or call you a million times just to yell at you when you finally do answer with a low,“What?” When you turn your computer off, you turn off that world, but it is as easy as electricity to immerse yourself in it all over again.

The characters are probably what I love most about my online community. Creating a character for a story or for a roleplaying forum is like molding a child, only this fictional “child” doesn’t have to be young. You, the creator, choose every single thing about the character from it’s weight to its history, likes and dislikes, appearance, personality, age, hair color, eye color, its passions, its fears, its hopes… essentially you are creating another you that doesn’t have to be you at all. How amazing is that? First, you create this character, following whatever form or guidelines are required of you (if any) on that particular board, and then you release it into this world – every character in that world can possibly be affected by your one character, just like every real person in our world can be impacted by us if that is our choosing.

A lot of critics in my own life, my closest family and friends, show me that only an RPG writer can understand what it means to be a part of this culture. Unless someone has experienced it for themselves, the good, bad and the difficult, it is an impossible concept to grasp. The biggest and most obvious statement tied to roleplaying: it is not real. They repeat that it is not the real world, and that we are living our most precious years out online instead of where we belong.

I know a few facts of my own, like: when I was in my early teens, an absolute noob to the online community, there was nowhere else that I did belong. I was awkward, lonely, unsatisfied with how I lived my life and how I looked. Sure, I had “friends”, but I did not fully understand how important a real friend could be until I began making them. Whether it be through chat, private messaging, or through your writing, the members of an RP site can become connected closer than any family in “real” life can. The anonymity that comes with a computer allows for complete honests – usernames become real names and ages, likes, dislikes and histories. The puppeteers, controlling all the fictional characters, become characters themselves. I would have never imagined the camaraderie that is aroused between two people living hundreds of miles apart; the love you can feel for someone you have never physically met? I have sisters in different states. Brothers that can put a smile on my face in under ten seconds, that live in cities I have never heard of. You start to share your life with these people. And whether you’re holed up in a room by yourself, or you’re signed into an internet cafe downtown, you start to live.



I am too petrified to feel hopeful, but too blissed to be pessimistic.

An Ode to a Peach


The pleasure lies no on its layered surface, not on the smooth, wrinkled face, but beneath.

Read between the colors of bright red, corals of pink and light. Escape through its mantle and saturate yourself with the glistening red, ruby feeling. Bursting texture. Hope of summer with every smell.

Feel the weight of it in your palm.

As warm as blushed skin set aflame, and as delicate too, take care not to bruise or treat it badly. Good southern gentleman, take care. Surrending its supple flavour to you with every taste, its aroma through each inhale. Exhale. It is precious.

Take and catch your breath slowly, so as not to startle her, but hold steadfast, your lips enamored to do their bidden work.

Now bite.

It’s me again! : ) I’m back to my writing, inspired by a Fanfiction, no less, to start keeping a journal. If I want to write, to draw, compose, whatever (hell, I can doodle, it’s mine), I will. Sometimes I’ll share the things out of there, like this little story/poem/ode, and other times I won’t. It’s very private very…personal.

WordPress, my life is about to get very, very hectic. I can feel it — the preverbial STORM on the horizon, brewing and churning, and within its clutches: lightning! thunder! rekindling? Oh, but there’s a chance.

I know that I still talk in circles, but that is necessary these days more than ever, so it simply can’t be helped.

I will be working until this Sunday, then I have three days off, but if you think that means I’ll have more of a chance to post, say, here, you are very mistaken. My mother has taken it upon herself to keep constant tabs on me next week, the week of my eighteenth birthday. Now I’ve promised her the day, but the week? The way we fight and argue, I’m doubting that’ll turn out very good for either one of us. And there is a strong chance of my ex-love-interest visiting around the mid-week, so things are bound to get interesting with him meeting the family for the first time. My current love-interest, aw hell, my current love,  🙂 was trusted to meet the folks after weeks, whereas I’ve known David for over a year now and he’s only getting the chance to meet mom this week. Goes to show the difference between them I guess. I’m not so sure this introduction will go as smoothly as the last, but I can only cross my fingers and toes and pray that there is no fallout concerning the people I care about.

I have just come in from looking at the crescent red (orangish, I guess) moon, the closest-planet-to-us-right-now Mars, and from watching the meteor shower from Comet P-whathitzface passing too close to the Earth. I used the ancient telescope given to me by a creepy teenage family friend, and studied for about a half hour until the mosquitoes drove me under cover.

Peach had a photoshoot for this poetic addition. So here are some of the outtakes:

Love me, (Lie to Me – poem)

Lie to me, my sweet,
lie and make me believe
so that I might accept these
delusions of grandeur
and no longer envy
those of sane mind and conscience.

Lie to me, my love,
and promise that you’ll stay here
by my side
until the last shade of white
leaves my skin,
and my thoughts lose their sense.

Lie to me, oh dear,
the dark is coming fast.
It arrives now
to cut the tendons,
the ties,
that bind me to this world
and you.

So lie to me, my sweet,
to keep me unaware.
Tell me of great cities,
brilliant men,
and delicate pretties.
Do this deed for me,
so I can rest with peace
and comfort,
sure that my life has been
so fulfilled with wonder.

I wrote this poem some time last year, while I was still in a very negative mindframe. I really did think that I could never have a man care for me truly, and felt that lies would be necessary to sustain such a fake relationship. I’m not so negative anymore — people have come into my life and changed me for the better.

That is not to say that I still don’t have things I need to work on. Like my habit of overthinking everything. It should be so easy just to let everything go and enjoy what makes me happy, and ignore the things that try and depress me. I have to learn that nothing and no one is perfect, no one can read my mind even if they know me really well. So I have to suck it up and just let the things that bother me roll off my back.

One thing I’ve taken to lately has been recounting memories. There are little details one observes in the heat of a moment, and they don’t realize how memorable those details become until later. As a writer, editer, and a dreamer 😉, my imagination is vast, and I’m still young so my memory’s pretty sharp. I remember colors and images, smells, words, whispers, the feeling of touch.. etc. Emotions are triggered — do you cry or bust out laughing, and I mean the har,har,har laughing, from just a memory?

I still think the poem is beautiful — I don’t remember what inspired me to write it, but I assume I was in one of those moods where I just feel like I need to get something out. When I feel like this I usually either write or post here (which is close to the same thing, an expression).

Oh, and as a note, the Staff at helped me perfect this poem with a few suggestions in word changes and line distribution. The words and the feelings are mine, as is the idea, but they helped me perfect my product.

Today I’ve been in a wonderful mood — I bet it’s that new policy of just letting things go that’s making me feel better. That, and I’ve been getting alot more sleep lately. I now sleep with a box fan three feet from my face, all the lights off and complete silence. Mmm.. speaking of sleep. It may only be 10:30, and I may have slept in once I got home from work, but I did get up at 4:22 this morning, so I think I’ll be heading to bed soon.

I have plans to go see my cousin Chris sometime this week, probably Thursday — and the fact that he lives close to Devin’s house is just a plus.. =) I’m not positive that I’ll be able to find a ride there and back, but I’ll be damned if I won’t try. It’s been at least a year since I saw Chris.

Night, loves! I’m going to try to go make my eyes numb watching Criminal Minds and reading “Dead in the Family” – by Charlaine Harris.



Now with this ring, I promise that I’ll be
faithful and true, devoted to you through it all.
And I’ll gladly be your one and everything
right by your side, a shoulder when you cry if you fall.
And I love you more with every day that ends,
it’s like I’m falling in love over and again.

You’re everything that my life’s been missing
and now I can’t believe this is happening to me.
Through the good, and bad, the happy, and the sad
you won’t be away from home, you’ll never be alone
from LA to Rome.

I couldn’t dream a better life,
without you right there by my side.

Sometimes the little girl in me just breaks through and attaches herself to songs like this one, “From LA to Rome”  by Chester See. It’s mainly used for weddings and anniversary parties, because of it’s ubber-cheesiness and comments on rings and devotion. I started the quote from my favorite part in the song “Now with this ring…”; I think I love that part so much because I’m driving toward marriage with my life. Though I still cannot fathom anyone dealing with my shit for the years it takes to engage, and then the decades after through marriage, a girl can still dream.

I may have actually changed my thoughts about becoming a mother. I had a conversation with my step-grandfather, who I just call granddaddy, and I’m not sure if he knew how powerful his words struck me, but when he spoke of me being a good mother, and the beautiful power I’d feel just when that baby is born, it reminded me of his late wife, and I had to blink back tears. I miss Becky, grandmamma, a lot, especially when I spend time with him. She was litereally the center of his world, as he took care of her for most of her life due to her hearing and sight problems, and with her gone it’s like his gravity has been thrown out of whack. He was her satellite, and now, without her holding him here, I worry about him a lot. How do you live healthily through the rest of your days when your reason for being dies?

Believe it or not, I hadn’t meant for this post to seem so sad. My mood is actually the opposite: In the past five weeks, I have smiled, laughed, and thought about more positive things than I ever have in my life. And, ha, because you know me so well wordpress, you know it’s because of a boy. Well, that boy. He just gets me in ways my mother of 18 years doesn’t, and he speaks words that just leave me…baffled. How could someone feel that way about me? I mean me. Maybe I just have self-esteem issues to battle, but I adore all these things about him. Devin — that’s his name if I have not already introduced him to you — is worth going through all the bad “relationships” in the past. He is goofy and makes me laugh, he’s just a beautiful person, inside and out. Definitely out. I’m a sucker for the eyes, and his blue ones? Oy..

This has been a year of firsts for me, some completely heartbreaking, and others, like this relationship I’m on the cusp of, completely wonderful.

To my little wordpressers out there: keep your music cranked up, your hearts open, and your eyes sharp.

I love you,