heartsong: (Ignore Brain)
When my cats knead my legs (or chest, or face) I'm pretty sure they're tenderizing me. That way when I die, crazy and alone, I'll be tastier. Or something.

I'm also fairly certain that, considering the number of times they've tried to trip me while I'm getting out of the shower, they're already plotting my death. They just have to work out how to get out of the apartment once I'm dead.

If my keys ever go missing and they figure out what the funny knob on the door thing is, then I might start worrying. Just a little.

Please note that this is a giant distraction from my novel and I really wish I could work forcibly around irrational trains of thought. It isn't good for my work ethic. Since I'm on the topic, I would also like to say that Benedict Cumberbatch is absolutely horrible for my work ethic too. His voice melts my brain and turns my knees into play dough. This note has now turned into another distraction.


affffggghsafdgs. ♥
heartsong: (Writing quill)
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. Did you just say Dragon?"


"And why are we going to see a Dragon?" Keith could hear hysteria in his aunts voice.

"Because they must be informed of the recent events concerning the Hamilton's deaths. If we tell them what's going on they might lend us their aid."

"Them? As in, you're taking us to see more than one?"

"Yes. They live as a clan."

Keith watched the blood drain out of his aunts face until she was almost as pale as Daniel.

"And at which point during this potential conversation do you think they're likely to eat us?"

"Quite possibly when you tell them the Hamilton's are dead."

"Oh damn."
heartsong: (It mocks me)
In my current novel (you'll probably see bits of it show up here eventually), my side Vampire character has wormed and wiggled his way into becoming a main character. Which is frustrating because I didn't WANT a main vampire character. After the whole Twilight 'OMG! VAMPIRES THAT SPARKLE!' thing, I didn't even want to touch the Vampire button. Then, along came Daniel - almost as old as time and more socially awkward than everyone else. Prone to singing random show tunes and quoting Doctor Who. He's very odd, even by Vampire standards. Considering the Vampires I created for this novel generally stick together and Daniel hid in a crypt for a thousand years, he's ridiculous.

I should have known by now that any character I create is more than capable of doing whatever they please. I clearly didn't learn so now I have to just deal with it.

On top of stubborn characters, it most definitely doesn't help when I have a lap full of kitties. A lap full of kitties is a wonderful thing, but distractions are not, even though it's adorable when said distractions try to help you type.
heartsong: (Anything)
I sincerely forgot how much I love Robert Frost. Today, I stumbled across a folder full of my old high school English stuff and I found this beautiful poem again. I forgot how much I love The Road Not Taken, it represents my inspiration to always try new things and not be afraid to venture out of my personal bubble. I want to share this with anyone who happens to pass by.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.

This poem is like waking up, or breaking down the wall. It's the first time I'm journeying down that path, therefore it's my road less travelled by. I think this might offer me some different insights into myself. Meditating on this poem will be interesting.
heartsong: (Zen Leaf)
Being outside is one of the most relaxing and peaceful things I can think of. I don't have to be doing anything particular, breathing in the fresh morning air or going on a long walk, it doesn't matter so long as I'm outside. There is so much to look at, the sights and the sounds; it can seem surreal at times.

One of the best weekends I've ever had was last year during Hallowe'en. I spent it with my best friend, Isabel, in the middle of nowhere. We walked one of the Fundy National Park trails and I spent a lot of time with my camera. We also had waffles, or rather I had waffles and Isabel had something that wasn't waffles, and they were delicious. It was an amazing weekend filled with joy and peace and I sincerely hope that I can experience another weekend outdoors like that.

I'd love to try some outdoor meditation this year. I think it would be a wonderful practice but also an experience as well. There are a lot more things to distract you in the outdoors than there are in the comfort of your own home. I think I might try it out tomorrow. This is going to be fun.
heartsong: (What we think)
Change is something that has been shadowing me my entire life. Growing up, going to school, changing schools, my mother leaving my father, university, moving to a different city, getting a job, and I could keep going. I think everyone in the world could keep going. Big changes, little changes; it didn't matter what kind of change it was. The fact of the matter is that change used to scare me half to death.

I know exactly where that fear originated. It developed during the time after my mother left. I was twelve then and as the days went by I became more aware of the difficulties of growing up in a single parent household. There was only one income and I couldn't have all the little things that I used to be able to have, because my father couldn't afford these things on his own. Less junk food, less material things, less allowance; to my twelve year old self this was almost unbearable. However, there was an overabundance of love, and laughter, and my father came to every play, every choir recital, every band performance. He gave me his love and support when he couldn't give me all my little meaningless things. This was brilliant on his part and helped me cope with the many emotions that I didn't want to deal with at that time.

Those events happened thirteen years ago, and are bitter-sweet memories for me now.

After my mother left I spent all of my teenage years waiting for the bottom to drop out from beneath me. Something would change and I would pretend it didn't happen. This was the 'run and hide' technique that I perfected over time. I dealt with change the same way a hiker would deal with a rabid grizzly - I ran and prayed it never caught me. I distracted myself from my pain, from my suffering, from change itself. However when trying to outrun a grizzly, you can't run forever.

I, unfortunately, cannot pinpoint the exact moment when I found my courage, and I couldn't really say exactly how one would go about finding their own. However I think it was during my climb back out of the lowest point of my life that I found mine. I accepted change head on and was prepared to make the changes I needed to make in my life without fear. I also accepted my childhood and teenage years, and came to view them with gentleness and I ended up understanding myself more. It's easier to say all that, than it actually was to go through it.

This journal is a change. A new home for my thoughts and emotions, it will also act as my creative outlet, on occasion, and also be a home for my spirituality. If the thought of meditation, knitting, cats, Buddhism, or novelists offends you, then I think you might be in the wrong place.


heartsong: (Default)

May 2011

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