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.


Cat for catastrophe!

Apparently, I just received my first failing grade in college. It was a 57 on a chapter test, three points from a “D” which is unacceptable in itself — it was my worst subject: Math 1111.  The teacher didn’t give us adequate time to finish because she is a bit of an illterate-to-technology twit and the test was online; despite that, she is a sweetheart so you have to give her that. Still, I believe that even with another hour or two of time, my score would have still been quite low. Maybe not as low as it turned out to be, but somewhere in that margin.

I glance around the room now to the faces of my peers, and nearly every one wears a face of anxiety. Between the test we just took, and the impending homework assignments, each section of which includes nearly 50 questions and are five sections in total, we are all feeling hot little coals under our feet; I may be feeling it most of all. I am in college on a federal grant, and I have to keep up my grade point average if I want to keep my financial aid requirements, and stay in college.

Teacher is back. Gotta run. Later, wordpress!

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:



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,

Someone who needs clarification.

If you enjoy an experience with someone a little too soon, that doesn’t make it wrong, but does it count as a mistake? Even if you don’t regret anything that happened, do you still consider it “moving too fast”?

I think I need to take a step back and assess my own feelings, first off. I have so much baggage that I will carry into any relationship in the future, and that baggage (example: my abandonment issues, my “slightly” protective nature) needs to be categorized and filed in the correct places before I move on. My feelings for my ex weren’t even solidifed, the good or the bad feelings, before these new ones popped up…

You see, if I am left alone with my thoughts, my mind naturally zeroes in on the thing that has been bothering me the most that day. This usually happens when I’m lying in bed wanting to go to sleep. Sucks because then I start tearing up before sleep, and it’s then impossible to go to sleep. My friends were here to distract me and cuddle me last night, so I wasn’t really alone to overanalyze everything.

But now that I layed here in my bed thinking about the really great and sometimes intense things that happened the other night, I get this weird feeling that I have to be careful. I don’t want to be careful: I want to live and truly trust someone with my happiness. But once again I’m struck with that need to be SO cautious with where I place my heart. If I seriously give up my passion to someone, completely — my virtue even? That is a big. deal. To me and to a lot of people in my life.

So tonight I’m going to turn on the TV, distract my ears and hopefully my thoughts, and then tomorrow when I’m of sound mind and clear eyes, I will give myself a reality check. How serious I plan on getting how fast, and just how mature I want/need to act in this situation.

Some might tell me: you sound like such a girl. That is probably because I am one, and despite all the shit I’ve tried to throw at my emotions to bog them down, they will always come crawling back into my conscious and either praise me or tsk-‘tsk’ at me.

I do know one thing. With you I feel more delicate and cared for. For a soft moment there, an intense but insanely sweet night, I felt safe. I even felt a little hope.  & everything in me is terrified — more than anyone can imagine — that I’m being used. I don’t want to feel that, but after a little serious thought my mind dabbled in that conclusion.

Some horrible philosopher somewhere down the line of ages said: Happiness is fleeting. What a horrible concept, and one my subconscious seems to have adopted as the motto to chant at me. But I’ll be damned if I don’t try to hold as tight as I can to that happiness.

🙂 Goodnight wordpress.

.Yvrut yspoT

As I get a moment of privacy, I settle down with my laptop and Diet Coke (no reg. in the fridge) and start on what is probably going to be a very short post.

Through the wonderful outlet that is the internet, and the aging site that is MySpace, I met someone really close to my area who not only has wicked music taste, but who too possesses one of the kindest personalities I’ve known. The term “topsy turvy” refers to a situation  that is completely turned on its head without necessarily being bad.

The past week of my life, folks, has been a strange, wonderful, topsy-turvyfied mix of days, where thought-to-be-loves faded to black, and a phoenix rose from ashes. I can’t exactly remember all the twists and turns that led me to this point, but I am grateful to everyone.

The words “i love you” mean more to me than they do to most girls — most teenagers for that matter — because I don’t see them through the eyes of a teenager. If I say them, I mean them, and I’ve only said them twice now in my life. For this to happen, my trust in that person must be absolute, and my fears about them minor at best. I have had two guys practically prance right out of my life now, and I’m not known for my long list  of successful relationships, so I can’t guarantee you that I’m going to be any good the third time around. Not that I’m …defining anything. Reference my “coward” sentences a few posts back 😉

So, wordpress, I have a …date this weekend.  It’s my first one in longer than I can remember because no one like this has asked me before. You know how they talk about those people or friends that are just made for you? Ha, I guess a girl can dream.

In my head I always sound way too cheesy, but oh wel.

Previous Older Entries