Sunday, September 05, 2010

Mystic's Way (freewrite)

(no apologies, thanks, Phil :D)

This trip was planned for months. She would finally be able to return to the Renaissance Faire after years of working too hard and burying herself to forget her problems. A car rental awaited her that morning and she happily stepped on the train.

On her way to JFK, she took a deep breath. things were not doing so well in her life. She hated her job, this trip was going to cost her a crap load of money and she probably wouldn't get anything back because half the people cancelled on her. At one time in her life, she could hold everything together. She was the source of stability and comfort that would take over the world. Her grand scheme to rule everyone's heart over backfired and made her a servant.

Exhaling, her shoulders slumped and she gripped her bags around her tightly. It wasn't dangerous in this part of town. She was only going from Harlem to Queens, but this was her only source of comfort. As her arms gripped, a nagging feeling in her stomach started up. She remembered the bagel she bought from a street vendor and loosened her grip.

While the city is very convenient, sometimes traveling can get sticky. Subway and buss routes are frequently changed due to MTA's forever-going service maintenance. She was smart this time - she checked the website to make sure all her trains were running. The issue was with transferring from one line of service to another. From her house, three trains were needed. One to get downtown, one transfer to go local, then another transfer to go from Manhattan to Queens. Doesn't seem too bad unless you're waiting 15 min on a subway platform because the previous train just left.

The sesame bagel was lightly buttered but darkened spots that covered the brown paper bag suggested otherwise. She tore pieces from the bagel and brought them to her mouth, trying to remember if she'd touched anything after leaving the house. Eating on the subway is not the most sanitary, but she was hungry and really wanted to get rid of that feeling in her stomach. About half way through the bagel, she felt a little better and let the thought slide from her mind.

Like most new yorkers, she had an iPod with her at all times. This trip was no exception. Some japanese rock/pop idol caressed her ears as she soon forgot about her troubles and the stomach nagging disappeared. Before she knew it, she was ready to transfer to her next train. One train came right after the other and she was on her way to Queens.

She made it to JFK via the Airtrain, a friendly reminder of the monorail from Disney World, only a little sadder. No Magic Kingdom greeted you at the end of this trip. She went downstairs to the rental car company and was greeted with a long line of people. Here she thought she was right on time for her 8:30 am appointment and now she had to wait for these people.

Three clerks were working behind the counter, one trying to help a family of 5, another with two people with very large luggage and the last helped someone that was just waiting for her receipt. As our Harlemite waited, she was strangely serene. Normally long lines when on a schedule stresses her out, but she had her earbuds in and looked up at the flat panel TV that was shouting out a news report. New Zealand just had an earthquake. While she was going to get a bit behind schedule, these poor people had lost their houses, their communities and some their lives. She wouldn't mind waiting on line.

Ten minutes later, she was at the front of the line waiting for the next clerk. She swore she would never go back to this company again, after the stress they brought her during a previous trip, but they had the lowest price and the minivan she was looking for. She decided to give them another chance. Once she spoke to the clerk and was handed the receipt, she was glad she did.

The minivan sparkled in the parking spot. There was some dirt in the back, but no scratches, paint scuffs and no dings. She gave the car a once over, then took a picture of it for Facebook. With her luck, the phone would post it later that day. She was happy and didn't want to think about the troubles of her phone right now, she was going to the REN FAIRE!

From previous experiences, she went over each feature the car had. Windshield wipers, headlights, overhead lights, audio system and mirrors. Once she had a feel for each, she looked for a way to connect her iPod to the car. As she suspected, this car had an AUX input of a 3.5mm jack. She thought this would be the case and brought her 3.5mm cord with her! She plugged in the iPod and tested the sound system - all worked well!

Now her trek would take her out to Long Island - a trip that normally took about 1.5 hours by the LIRR, two hours by driving. From JFK, she made it to her destination in about an hour. She wasn't speeding, per se, just making good time. She picked up her passengers and they headed upstate to Tuxedo, NY to Sterling Forest.

They made it to the fair only half an hour later than originally planned. And all this after stopping at 7-11 for snacks, Burger King for breakfast and having to dodge crazy drivers that swerved in an out of traffic. They parked in the free parking, she gave out the free tickets and they started up the hill to the faire.

It was a tradition she started a few years ago - to try to go to the faire every year. She started it with her mom and two brothers. Her sister would have been invited, but at the time she lived farther upstate and couldn't make it. Years after they went together, but not all 5 of them together. This year, her tradition changed just a little. She took her brother's friends. She figured, they would want some space to hang out and she could go off and enjoy the faire on her own. It would be the first time she had ever done it, and something called her to do this more than ever on this day.

They went off to do their thing and meet up with other friends that came and she headed to a place she'd want to go for years. Mystic's Way is a path in the Ren Faire filled with Tarot Card, Palm and other readers. She wanted to talk to some of them to learn more about her dreams. When she was younger she used see reality in her dreams before they happened. She also used to be able to tell who was on the phone before it was picked up. After a strained marriage and a brutal change in work environment, these abilities left her, along with her optimistic spirit and happiness. She wanted to seek out help.

Walking to each hut, she saw readers of all kinds. Some had turbans, others had feathers, some would roll the eyes to the back of their heads as drunken tourists looked on in awe. None of these showcase dealers would do. She wanted a real person that had the talent. She rounded a corner and found a gentleman sitting with a lady, another faire worker, and she listened in.

"And literally i come away with pains in my legs and shoulders," the young woman said.

"Of course, it affects you physically too. You have to let it go, i come away from here exhausted," the gentleman answered.

She pretended to read the pamphlets as they continued their conversation - she liked this guy. He knew what it was like to take on the emotional burdens of others. The strain it takes out of you. He would be great to talk to.

They said their goodnights after a few minutes and she went back to her own booth. He looked at this new person at his stall and said,

"How are you today?"

"very good, trying to keep away from my Blackberry," she smiled. She could talk to this guy - he didn't pitch a sale right away. That was a good sign.

He laughed at that. "It's so hard to stay away. Plus you have to fiddle with the damn thing just to get it to receive phone calls!"

Bingo, she knew he would be the perfect person to talk to. They continued for a while about technology and how people are too reliant on their devices.

"Do you do any research of any kind?" he asked her.

"Not really, I'm in IT," she answers.

"Oh, you look a lot more mature than that."

"No, i'm in IT," she repeats with a chuckle. Then she realized what he heard.

"I thought you said you were 19. I was going to say, you look GREAT for 19." They laughed together. He had honest, sad eyes. Eyes that have seen a lot in their time. They also looked a lot younger than his face.

"I'm seeing a researcher in you. I thought maybe you had a job in research," he continued.

"Well, i do search for answers to problems all day..."

They continued the small talk and he asked her to come in and sit down. He was emotionally drained from the week and was not planning on seeing anyone else, so he had some time to talk.

She tried her hardest not to wear her heart on her psychological sleeve, but her body language betrayed her. Having someone know how you feel without you saying it is something she's always wanted. That higher connection always made her a good girlfriend, a good wife. She could tell what was needed and provided it, without being asked. This also tended to spoil her partner because they didn't ask for what they needed - so if something was missed on her part, there was a lack of communication and an argument or insecurity ensued.

He could see she was unhappy and forever worrying. She was a worrier and that caused her to miss opportunities that could help further her life. This energy was building up with such intensity that she could go insane and she was almost at the point already.

School was a possible door opener. It wasn't clear on how it would appear in her life, but somehow, a class or school of some type would lead to an opportunity that would help her to get out of the sadness. She also wasn't sure of what she wanted to do with her life. This led to the worrying and became an obstacle to her happiness.

Another recurring issue was a problem and she confirmed that her ex was still trying to contact her. He suggested that she take a firm action to stop this as it was on the verge of stalking. They spoke for a while about the cases he gets in where women want a better life but refuse to stop going to men that treat them badly. She felt sorry for those women, she was in that situation, not nearly as bad as beating or physical abuse, but she knew what it was to be mentally hurt. That's when he suggested there was a huge event that happened in the past that is causing most of the stress in her life. Something that she hasn't let go just yet. She was confused at this, because her previous relationship was seen as one huge event but then something struck a chord. It could have been the first time they argued and she realized at that time she shouldn't be with him. Or it could have been the incident of so many years ago where her very womanhood was in question.

He sensed a spirituality in her as well, asked if she did yoga. She told him about the dreams she used to have and they discussed his past. His grandmother had the gift and he received it when he was a young child. His father tried to suppress his talent and dismissed it as nonsense. He also tried to dismiss it but his quality of life suffered.

As for the present, he could tell that her current relationship was helping to keep herself together. There are communication issues. There was also a gap that may feel healthy, was not helping to progress the relationship further in the future. He was happy that she seemed happy, but thought she could do much better. She was the type of person that needs someone that's thoughtful and intelligent. She was a romantic and needed that from her partner as well. He wasn't seeing that in her current relationship.

At this point she started to reflect on all that he said. He pretty much told her all that had been rolling in her head all along. She had come to the point where she realized that her partner was not capable of giving what she needed. His best was not enough. This didn't scare her, and it wasn't a surprise, but it was kind of nice to hear it from someone else. This would take some thinking.

"You may feel comfortable now, and you may have agreed upon this space, but it's going so far in different directions, there's no chance to meet again in the future. There needs to be more of this," and he linked his hands together. "You need to be closer if this is going to move on."

"You will also have to make some decisions soon. You may not want to, you may not think you're ready, but you must decide. If you don't make the decision, Fate will make it for you and then you won't be satisfied with the outcome."

He continued to say that she may be unhappy with her job, but keep it for now - it wasn't easy to find another and most people didn't have what she has now. Be thankful for having work and try to figure out what she wanted from life. Most importantly, to FOCUS. Lack of focus is keeping her from having a strong career in that she enjoys. Dissatisfaction with her career renders it incomplete and the relationship cannot be mended until that stability has been established. One thing leads to another, that leads to another.

The last point he wanted to make involved emotion. The energy that's formed from emotions is what rules the universe. When someone is upset, that energy is focused and calls for more to be gathered together. If the focus is kept on optimism, or a positive goal, it will be heard.

"Learn to focus and speak from the heart. That's the way to healthily reroute your energy. By the way, what was your name?"

"i go by Jean. Pleasure to meet you," she smiled and shook his extended hand.

"It's very nice speaking with you, Jean. My name is Tom."

She received a phone call from her brother to say they were about ready to go home. She let them know she'd only be 15 more minutes and then she'd meet them at the gate. Jean apologized to Tom and tried to wrap things up.

He suggested a few books where she could find more information to help cultivate what talent she thought was lost. To help her focus and unwind he demonstrated some breathing techniques she could do every day. Lastly, he told her a trick on helping her remember dreams.

"Let me know how the school thing goes - let me know how it comes into play."

"I will!" she said as she walked back toward the faire's entrance.

Her brother and his friends had a great time at the faire and were tired and ready to go home. They met at the front gate, walked back down to the car and headed out on the road. After a quick I-Hop stop for dinner they all got home safely.

Jean returned the car and made her way to t he Airtrain Terminal. She felt fulfilled knowing she has some new things to think about. This turned her away from worry and suddenly she realized there was a quicker way home - an opportunity presented itself. She knew she made the right choice with Tom. She was beginning a new path in her life, one that put her first.

Monday, August 02, 2010

freewrite

"you don't have to let go..." she heard through the pounding in her ears. "you can control it!"

"I can't... it's too much for me to handle!" she screamed from several feet above.

Ending it all now would solve several problems. She could destroy the next hundred square miles with ease. Flying higher she scoped the area. Several towns would perish if she unleashed this terror. Clenched fists blazed with an internal fire she called upon in times of need. Slowly her knees pulled into her chest and she raised her arms to cross them before her face. All she had to do was conjure up the energy.

The tears wouldn't stop, even though her eyes were closed. She could feel the wet drips roll down her cheeks until the fire kissed them away. Each flame flickered up in response to her anxiety. They fed on her anger and fear which could fuel them far longer than oxogen.

She opened her eyes and saw him below. He was crying too, but not out of fear, out of compassion. He didn't want to see her hurting, he didn't want the flames to wipe away her tears. That was his job. He held his hands out to her and she could feel his love. Not only in his eyes, she felt his very soul reaching out to her own.

Lowering her hands, legs and body temperature, the flames receded. She wasn't ready to meet him just yet - this was a defeat in her eyes. She looked at him one last time and shot into the sky leaving a trail of energy behind her like a shooting star...




(sorry - several different storylines all mixed into one. still trying to figure out my own style. and don't be worries about the subject.... there are lots of scenes i've been meaning to write about and some of them are dark and scary, others silly and light)

^_^

Sunday, August 01, 2010

freewrite (thanks to sorcerer's apprentice)

she stepped up out of the mouth of the subway. a gust of wind splashed her face with a few raindrops of the finishing storm. it was a refreshing chill after being in the stifling heat underground.

her pace was slower than normal due to a growing headache. each footstep pounded her skull so she padded lightly on the cracked sidewalk. at least the rain was helping cool off her head.

she reached the street corner and her book bag started to vibrate. it was either a text or a voicemail, she thought, until it kept going. a smile slipped across her face as she tried to guess the caller and as she pulled the phone out of her bag the smile faded.

i really don't want to write about that - it's an unhappy subject and while my mind requires me to write about it i refuse to :(

not tonight.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

freewrite

i have energy and i need to write now when i have a chance. it's amazing how the city can take on so many faces when your mood changes. i've seen at least 10 different types of beautiful - the kind that makes you cry, the kind you see from crying, a greener kind when i'm happy, blues when i'm sad... wah don't like where that sentence was going.

maybe i should try dr. wicked's lab. nah, i'm doing okay writing so far, just nothing with substance. i'll figure something out.


it always came back to the red door. she couldn't stop thinking about what happened that day.


wow... i was about to write a part 2 to this but i feel like i can't write better than i did then.... scratch that. Here goes nothing...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

...my feet stumbled forward and i was standing beyond the gate. with my next breath, my hand was caressing the painted wood. and as i exhaled, the door closed behind me.

it was dark inside. my eyes were still used to the brightness of the morning but my nose led the way. i followed the faint smell of bacon and cinnamon toast and headed down a hall of some kind. It was long and narrow and i held my hands out for additional guidance. no furniture or paintings were here, but there was a small molding about half way up. if i knew more about architecture, i could describe it better. ornate gargoyles bit at my fingers about every five steps. by the time i made it to the end of the hall, my eyes could see what was around me.

the hall i just went down was a service entrance. it was wide, but meant only for transporting goods. arrows just beyond the red door were painted on the wall, directing where each item should go: to the right, food and pantry items, to the left, furniture and linens and up the stairs - clothing. there were sconces above me, but you'd need a ladder to get to them. flameless candles stood atop each metal platform and offered light when used. no electricity was present in this part of the house.

finding all i could, i turned to continue down the hall, then came across a heavy velvet curtain. Just as i reached out to pull it aside a knocking sound came from the wall. i froze in horror, thinking for the first time i've invaded someone's house. what if i was found? how could i explain my trespassing? Maybe if i could just get a little farther into the house. the smell of bacon was much stronger on this side of the hallway, perhaps the kitchen was near?

i pulled the curtain aside and was greeted by an empty home library. Bookshelves lined every wall and even framed an old TV set in it's wooden box. dainty furniture was placed just right for conversation, but didn't look all that comfortable to sit in. A victrola sat in one corner with it's matching records on the bookshelf just behind it. a door to her left was closed and dark from beneath but a door straight ahead was wide open, sunlight pouring in. this room had no windows, as if to protect the books from sun exposure. she'd love to return and see what books were on each shelf, maybe on her way out.

(some how i suddenly turned to the third person... i think i might end up doing that for the story, since it seems to come naturally. but i'll return to telling my story again - sorry about that :D)

As i got to the middle of the room i heard another sound from behind the bookshelf. it was similar to a rat trying to escape quickly from a predator since the movements were quick and sporadic. i froze each time i heard the noise until it seemed to stop. i went on to the next room.

this looked like a bedroom as it had several antique dressers but the bed was missing. i took a look at each to see the cracking paint and remembered a time when i was invited to the CEO's house as part of the new employee hiring welcome. his house included several dated pieces, which i thought was silly to have since they were all cracked and looked broken. this type of furniture seemed to fit in this place though. it didn't look as if someone placed it here - but as if it just belonged. a whispering call asked me to touch it, to see if it was real and my fingers obliged. the cracked paint didn't crumble under my hand but seemed to welcome my touch. "love me" it called out, "we've been incredibly lonely."

i pulled back a bit, as my heart felt a twinge of pain. everything here was a bit sad. something or someone was missing and this place wasn't complete until that thing was found. i moved onto another piece that was set into the wall. Only the drawers and doors stood out from the wallpaper. i pulled on one drawer but nothing happened. maybe it was stuck so i pulled a little harder. After a third pull, i gave up on that drawer. I tried another just beneath it and that one took the entire draw panel right off. now i've destroyed someone's property. what should i do now, i thought.

worry didn't have enough time to set in. As i tried to put the drawer face back, i noticed that behind the face panel i removed was a richly colored wood panel. . i knocked and the panel was solid wood. there was no way a real drawer could fit in there. so i followed the wall to see where the door might lead. it was a wall that jutted out just beyond the bathroom. it sectioned off the room for what looked like function of a dresser, but only the face was implemented. As i went around to the back of the wall, i could see a shoddy cover-up of a door to what must have been a building structure some years ago. (i'll really have to work this one out to get what's in my head on paper)

following that wall and the bad cover up, i heard a rustling, just like the knocking earlier. I looked over to find a staircase that was sectioned off by baby safety gates. paper was moving around on it's own and when i moved in closer, i found a small grey monkey trying to get up to see me. this grey monkey was familiar as i knew it's owner. but to think i'd be in his house.... i held my breath and listened to the heavy footsteps making their way down the stairs...

Friday, June 04, 2010

need to get out of my head....

she ran. she had to run away from it. the thing that clouded her mind, her every waking moment. had to get away. she closed her eyes and slowed to a stop. her hands rose to her face as her knees gave out. the tears came.

where was she? she couldn't open her eyes. the effort seemed too much. all energy she had was used to banish the thoughts that threatened to suffocate her. was she still standing? no, she could feel the cold wet concrete through the seat of her jeans.

it could have been hours or seconds that she sat there and fought off the images and assumptions. time was not recognized. there was one phrase, one feeling she was trying to protect.

"am i being treated fairly?" it sounded hollow if she said it aloud. keeping it in her head didn't give it enough importance. had the past really screwed up her point of perception? she wasn't sure if she was capable of enjoying something at face value any more.

a smile or kind gesture was used to prepare her for a truth that was not easy to tell. a caress was forced by an external stimulant. complements only meant something was wrong. was she wrong for thinking this way, no - this was what she did to mask her true feelings.

when she was little, she was honest and blunt, inconsiderate to how her words affected other people. it took her several painful lessons to see that some thoughts are better kept in her head. not everyone wants to know how you feel. sometimes people just like to have someone listen. she learned well and started to keep her thoughts to herself.

as she closed her thoughts up, she started to become self conscious. all the ideas started to fill her head and it became very crowded. she started to internalize the feelings she had toward others and didn't want anyone to know what she was thinking. once and a while she opened up to tell someone an honest idea and she was laughed at. this made her close up even more.

people became objects to judge on sight so she knew how to protect herself. no one would ever be let inside. she would be safe so long as she kept a distance from all around her. she didn't need them anyway.

(wah... got hungry, got frosted flakes and lost the rhythm... maybe will finish later :P )

Monday, May 03, 2010

nyc writing (Harlem's Hollowed History)

inspired was i by a walk down 137th street.
castles past their prime stared down at me with curious eyes.
'would she see us, would she care' they cried to each other.

i touched the wet bricks that water wore away.
some would claim the pipes had leaked, but i knew this damage.
these buildings had seen better days, the grooves were from tears.

in a time long ago and sadly forgotten, this used to be a kingdom.
grand lords and ladies danced in each hall and celebrated life like none other.
oppression couldn't reach them here, or so they thought.

the tides rolled in and things changed for the worst.
living became a burden and the kingdom was slowly fading from sight.
each proud building was left to deteriorate like their spirit of celebration.

the wonder of how things were consumes me.
there is a hunger for knowledge of the past while trying to preserve it in the present.
just think of all that could have been offered if the celebration always continued

Friday, April 30, 2010

midnight freewrite

i know i should be sleeping but i felt i should write. it's been so long since i've wirtten a story that i feel it's time to put something on paper. i could also be because i'm reading this good book called "a children's story" pleas eforgive me for for forgetting the writer - i'll look it up later and maybe comment on it.

so i was thiking about a story that welnt something like thiss.....

wah, this freewrite is not coming out how i want it. i have to exercise this muscle - it's terribly weak again and makes me want to cry. my wants and needs are so spread out it's hard to focus on just one thing. there's so much fear i'll miss out on something that i tend to do a little of everything insteadof a lot of one thing.

the stories are constant in my head. every face i pass has a story, every building, every crack in the sidewalk. my city calls out to me begging for it's story to be told. but not the one you see at barnes and noble. not the one you read about at the library. the very soul of my city calls out for the true story to be told.

i'm saddened because i feel i'm not up to the task. but she calls out to mek, every night i pass through her neighborhoods. I can see her - in the child that waved hello on the subway and smiled, he needs life on paper. a story must be written about every thing every living being.

my timeis plentiful and there are enough stories to write in a lifetime and more. only how to start. poems, short stories, not ever a novel - that would be too presumptuous. it must be in the style one experiences. fleeting moments and carefree passes through the hall. that is how i'd tell her story.

Thursday, February 04, 2010

endless love is so cliché

He could see the faint glow of the moon's reflection just over the trees. The lake must be beautiful, he thought. Stars twinkled down to show him the way through the Pines and Firs as his steps quickened. This time he was away for too long.

It wasn't a far walk to the lake and he thought it best to leave Cassie behind. Her hooves would make too much noise along the path. Not that he needed to be quiet in these parts, but disturbing the silence didn't feel right. At his best, his boots whispered along the dirt path. She wouldn't mind, though. It was his way of telling her, "i'm coming...soon."

The last tree cleared and he dropped to his knees. There, on the lake, was the moon's reflection. While it's luminance lit up the area, it was not the source of the light shone over the trees. His hand trembled as he reached out to a figure in the water.

"Forgive my absence. It's been far too long since..."

"Hush, my love," her voice danced to his ears. "You're here now. Come to me."

He stood, eyes fixated on the light in the lake. One foot after another he was drawn to her. She called him and he obeyed. As he neared the lake's edge his eyes adjusted to the light. Little by little her form materialized. The outer curves of her shoulders were the first he noticed. Their width were matched by her round full hips. Next he could see the back of her head trailing with a braid that draped over one shoulder.

She turned to face him with puffy eyes and arms crossed. While her voice could hide any trouble she was having, her body could not.

"I had a terrible dream," she began. "You became sick and died. Nothing i did, nothing i tried could help you get better. There was nothing i..." her voice trailed off.

He moved in closer and listened.

"I couldn't help you. I couldn't save you. I was hurt that my time with you was so short," her arms grew heavy and fell to her sides. She dropped her head and continued "Nothing... all the love that i had wasn't enough to save you. i couldn't keep you with me."

His hand rose up to caress her cheek as a warm tear rolled down his fingers.

"I'm here now, we have this moment. Let's not waste this precious time we have together," he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.

"My love for you i so deep i cannot love another if we should part. I want you to know, until your last breath that i have always loved you. I don't want you to feel that you were ever alone," she mumbled into his shoulder.




(grrr.... somehow this didn't turn out how i wanted it to.... perhaps i'll revisit. she was supposed to be the strong one professing her love - but maybe that's just too mushy :P)

Sunday, January 24, 2010

freewrite. romance

is it really meant only for books?
for women to fill it in their head through fairy tales and movies?
this one thing thought of from someone's head.
romance

maybe i'm just overcome with emotion.
seeing other people's feelings - how easily it gets to me.
why do i share what they experience.
empathy.

just fiddling around with some verses... think i'm too tired to write. have to start practicing that muscle again.

Monday, January 11, 2010

freewrite - first of 2010

this is my writing exercise for the night. let's see what i can dig up from my head.

she closes her eyes and notices her fingers start to fly. she's no longer sitting on a bed, but on a toadstool. it's large, similar to the one from Alice and Wonderland, but it's colored in the bright orange and red most known from Super Mario Brothers. She can almost hear each item around her being pixellated. First the toadstool goes to 256 colors, the orange turning more into a yellow and it feels a bit rigid under her bottom. the pillows that are next to her turn into two goombas, silently pacing back and forth between two green pipes. the dolls that were on her bed become the vine plants coming up from the pipes. she's turning her room into a video game.

HA... the ceiling is made up of flashing gold boxes, their question marks teasing and calling her to knock them over to see what's inside. she does to find a growing vine that leads up to the clouds. now she feels blocky as she stands in one motion and looks down at the plumber pants she's wearing. She deftly climbs the vine to find a world full of coins and clouds. They look so high but as she reaches up her legs can't help but jump to grab them. Now she's flying through the air and wait... there's a tail behind her. She can wiggle a bit and get ever so higher. More coins, she laughs.

her eyes open and suddenly she's back in her bedroom. the pillows are neatly at the top of her bed and the dolls lay where they have been next to her. she looks around and is happy she's not in a video game. where would she sleep? were there any bathrooms in the level? what would happen if she really fell down the well - could she just start again at the beginning? things she never really thought of, it's just a game after all.

how would she feel if she stepped on the goombas and they disappeared. would she feel remorse for killing something, even if it was an enemy. all good questions and none she'd care to think about while playing the game. why would someone purposefully make you think about reality in a simple game as that. the whole point is the take your mind off the drama of every day, right? she's very happy she has video games to escape to, but it's also nice to know there's a soft bed waiting for her at the end of the day.

and to totally switch topics, she wants a nice garden that will hold all the veggies she'd cook with. if it were up to her it would be nice to have a farm - work hard, have real troubles. she's starting to feel like the troubles she has are made up or could be prevented. it's not like she's fighting Bowser to save the life of the Princess. she's fighting off bill collectors and rent responsibilities. but one thing is for sure... hahahaa.

that last line might be omitted for the sake of my job. ha... to think that i can't speak my mind because the internet has made the world a much smaller place. yes, i think i will remove that last line - maybe i'll make it my facebook status. no one would understand if it was out of context. sometimes i do wish i could be in a video game - but not really. just have the chance to go someplace different. to see new things and not have to worry about the money that must be spent doing it. i want to learn for the sake of learning. guess i'll have to stick to books and the library. that's the only real way to do anything for free anymore.

guess i just, i don't know- i'm very lucky. i'm able to have my own place and have enough money to help my family when the need is there and to still enjoy life a bit. it's not that i really want more for me... i just want more so i can help the people around me. guess my time is almost up and now i can watch the time tick by. if i were writing an essay, i'd say there was no way i could pound out 800 words in about 15 minutes. But look at me know. There's 800 with 45 seconds to go. seems it's all a state of mind. i could probably get to 1000 if i wanted to. seems there are so many things we're all capable of but we just don't have the want to do it. the Will is there if you cultivate it. you just have to want it.