Another Blah blah blah about blah blah blah

And so I have returned. It's still cold here. Though yesterday and today don't want me to believe it. It was 50degrees yesterday and is now... 37. But it promises to get colder and either rain or snow tomorrow. I would prefer the rain. It was raining when I left my love, Southern California. But now I'm back. I am thankful it was not as cold when I got in. I didn't have a jacket and Lar did not bring me one. My dad kept mine when he dropped me at the airport. I was also able to walk to the Library in a sweatshirt and my normal clothes. But my black bootie broke, so I had to walk in my rancher's rain boots. They aren't actually rain boots though, and I should remind myself of that. "Do Not walk through large puddles! Rancher's Rain boots are not waterproof!" they're suede. Needless to say because of all the water and melted snow My feet were soaked. While I was gone though, I was able to deduce somethings about my own likes/dislikes/ and feelings. I love the rain. I like to walk to the park and read. I like the sun, but not affecting my skin. Spring is my favorite. I still don't like to be wet, save for choosing the rain. I savor solitude. I adore being with real friends. I like proper English. And will probably go out of my way to satisfy the wrong people when I think it's what they want, even if it's never been told me. Perhaps I didn't get as much sleep as I should have, I'm trailing off again with no specific train of thought. I'm in need of trimming my nails, they too long to type at ease now, my fingertips are coming down at a very elongated angle.

Though the sun shone, She only saw the rain.

"Did you know I was a dancer before all this?" she paused. "Did you also know it was the first thing I told myself I couldn't regret?... Though, to my everlasting shame, I, on some level do." She spoke staring out the window, with longing in her eyes. "This life of mine, so far, has amounted to few regrets. Each of them greater than I thought possible. But giving up dance..." She spoke at the room now, though Amber was the only other person in it. "That is my greatest loss in life. The one thing That I wish someone who knew; would have stopped me from. All my other regrets I must bear on my own. For I was the only one in those secrets. But dance was my TRUE love, my true joy. And now; will always be my true pain to think of." She turned back to the window. A single tear ran down her cheek slowly. "It's not too late, is it?" Amber asked from behind her. Vanessa turned toward her friend and showed a light of wondering in her eyes, and raised her brow. "I mean, you are still rather young..." Amber came across the room towards her. "I guess it's not possible that you could become any great master now, but you could still take it up again. Couldn't you?" Vanessa had turned back towards the window, seeming to consider the provocation of this. "You mean; take it up as say, exercise or for leisure?" Though it was more of a statement than a question. "I suppose. Yes." "No doubt I've thought of that. But a few of the factors which played in when I initially gave it up still hold true today. I haven't the means to do it. Sure I've got the drive, but not the money to take a class, my age doesn't really merit that anyway. A private tutor would be completely out of the question as far as finding the finances and I haven't got the space." She'd turned from the window and walked towards the sofa. She stood there a while fidgeting and finally turned back to the window. Amber just listened to her in silence. When she finally spoke, her voice was quite and defeated. "You've covered all of the angles then, have you... given up completely?" "What else is there to do?" She sat on the sill now. "You could take more proactive measures. Isn't it you who're so in love with your library and all of those ways you can find your own knowledge and teach yourself? Now, I don't know about specific spaces and all that, but don't you think you should try a little harder?" Amber was obviously mad. But it seemed it could hardly be due to this context of which they now spoke. "I'm sorry, but you've resigned yourself to this regret too easily. If it bugs you so much; get off your ass and do something about it. I don't know specifically, about what else you speak, but you can't just sit around and wallow in your regret. If it truly bugs you that much, do something about it!" She paused to catch her breath and calm herself. "Now look what you've done." She added in a more playful tone. "You've gone and made me start repeating myself." She attempted a smile at Vanessa, who now looked at her hard. "It's true what you say. I shouldn't 'wallow' as you kindly put it, in my regrets and miseries. But some things you just can't change." She got up from the sill and slowly moved across the floor in the direction of the door then faltered halfway there. "I guess that's why I had decided I wouldn't regret anything. Thought it'd be easier... It wasn't, I just made stupid decisions and hated myself without saying I'd wish I could take it back." She continued forward again. "My you talk like someone well beyond your years. One might think you'd already lived your entire life." Vanessa stopped and turned in the doorway. "Well, 21 was a very eventful year." She smiled and left the room. Amber sighed, then turned on her heels and went out the opposing door.

An Hour for An Happiness.

I suppose each individual one can charge whatever they want. How come; it was 75cents for several days of one, and now it's $2 for the second day of another? that makes no sense. At all! Oh well... Here's an extended scene for you. I don't much like it; but it is what it is right now.

-

"Everyone knows. How can you not know? Everyone knew before even me! My dad knew before I did. Reginald had to tell me. That's how I know. My grandmother even knew before I'd admit to it." She finished this off and just stared at him incredulously.

"You admit it?" he seemed at a loss for words. Like he was struggling to formulate his own thoughts. Or maybe he truly didn't understand what she was saying. she couldn't read his body language any longer, and was in such a state as to believe he'd not even heard her. "Admit what?" he finally continued. This let her know that she wasn't the last one to know her own secret. Which was little consolation. But if he didn't already know it... She struggled with weather or not to tell him at this point. If she did; she was at a loss for words.

He still stared at her in a questioning disbelief. She thought the words so strenuously, but finally faltered altogether. She dropped her arms and hung her head in defeat to it. She resigned herself to her fate. She must say it out loud, in plain words, or he would obviously never know.

"That you're hopelessly in love with me." he said this with a sarcastic air. The words he uttered, though true in content, where purely said as a joke to ease the tension of the moment. "Yes, I know." he continued in his way, "I do have that effect on people." He obviously was going to be done with this topic and move on shortly. " They just can't get enough of me. -- Yep!" she could only roll her eyes and sigh, as they looked away from each other. Him for his entertainment, her for her shame. The subject was now dropped. Her moment for truth was gone forever.

-

And another thing... I think it's odd (proper but odd) that it should be an happiness, or an house, or an hippopotamus. I do understand the use of an. But occasionally it seems out of place when heard together. However it does sound right when it's an hour.

The reason we're freezing is a lack of gumption?

After a long awaited... 2, 3? weeks, I hope to be going "home" on Thursday next. It's odd to say home about a place where I have nothing but stuff, and a computer. A place where I sit in frozen seclusion, until someone else chooses that I should do something other than just that. A place that I detest due to the constancy of the climate in both high seasons. A place where I have absolutely no friends that I can call my OWN (who at least have the time to acknowledge me. Yes, I understand Cho.) This train of thought causes me to think of my exact reasons for going there at all. What are they? I am supposed to have work; but I don't get paid. I am supposed to be working on an album; but I am at my fathers disposal of time for that one, and has thus far, not happened. There's got to be a good reason. In the beginning, I was only going until I was finished with my portfolio, and had applied to grad school. I've done that now. Why do I not choose to come back. For the promise of work? For the constant consistency of seclusion? If I am able to anticipate that, it subtracts disappointment. But do I really desire it? No. I suppose it's as I stated in my short bio thingy. I choose to run away from what is either good for my, or comfortable. I do this, I think, to keep it from changing on myself without my personal permission. I jump the gun on it. I take the opportunity away from others to let me down. I let myself down instead and early. that's just crazy. I must have mush for a brain. Stupid Girl!

Writing out a story about someone else.

Woe it is to be like me. I'm not quite sure (yet again...) what I am in want of, as far as this stupid boy anymore. Or for anything for that matter. I do know that the scenarios that play out in my head, can never come to pass. That it's not even truly 'we' who are in them. It's two other players, in similar circumstances who have traits, wants, needs, and desires different from our own. Here I go blah-di-blahing again. Let me move on.

I love it when the sun is shining. It makes me happy. But I also am in love with the rain. Actually, if you get solidly down to it; I'm in love with the weather when it's starting to not rain, and the sun is attempting to break through the clouds. The peace of it is tranquil, and at the same time invigorating. So, my favorite thing to do in the rain, is to walk about in it until it's lightens to a brief sunshine. Then I'll just bask in the glory of what is surely to be called a beautiful day. And now; I leave you with another scene... But not really a scene so much as... well; you'll see.

-

I don't rightly recall what it is that I was thinking at him. all I know is that I was, in fact, thinking at him. thinking of things that I wanted to, but couldn't/wouldn't, say. Of the remarks to those, I knew he'd never make. So we rode on saying nothing, and the silence ensued.

I wondered vainly ' Was it about our previous, last encounter? Did it concern the way I left him? Was it in reference to our manners with each other in different settings? Was it simply thinking a way of telling that I love him?'

Scenes and Oneliners about seemingly nothing...

How about if I chronicle some of my one-liners?:

-

-

"The fool hearty antics of a disparaging little girl..."

" Life goes on. It's just a book. It's only as important as you make it."

"It's just one great line after the other the only things lacking are a story and the characters. The speech itself is divine."

"There was a time in my life, a very short time have you, that I didn't know me. I didn't act like me, I didn't think like me, I didn't want to be me. and very little good came of it. For the me that should be me, is good. All else defaults to bad."

"If it were just spring with no other seasons, what good would it be?"

"Oh, I just love it when you talk to me, even if you lie."

"the whole world is a ruse. A fantastic story by which I like to play my games."

"How is it that someone can be so impenetrably full of themselves?"

"She wrote then, with a feverish ferocity (velocity?)."

"I can no longer say: I've never been in love. I can, however, still say: I've never been truly loved."

"Can't you see, I stole this song from you."

-

- and now a scene or two;

-

-

"Now you're doing it" he came at her.

"Doing what?" she honestly replied.

"You're running away this time... and avoiding me." a short but seemingly endless silence ensued. Until thoughtfully she responded.

"So you admit it. You were running from me."

-

"Do me a favor" he looked up at her as she now spoke to him, "don't lie to him." She was referring to her father. Still he looks at her questioningly. Wondering if this includes her own past sins and indiscrepancies. "about anything... that too." she finally concluded and quit the room. Leaving him to ponder his answers for; if and when her father would undoubtedly question him.

-

She was so engrossed in her own thoughts, and the reading of his letter as she walked, that she collided with a tree. And brandishing fresh cuts and scars, was forced to return home full of embarrassment due to both her head and her heart.

-

She felt like she should feel like she shouldn't be there. Seeing as she was in all categories like the other woman. And now completely out of place. Her fear was the only think left to grasp her heart and keep it beating. Still she stayed. Knowing those feelings all too well. Even if being out of place seemed a thousand time intensified at this instance in this place. She was determined to feel at ease. None but him, knew of her indiscrepancy. Only he had power here, if he choose to yield it.

-

I suppose I shall not have one. They all move on, due to my being so naive and immovable. Why is it that I have to drive them all away without knowing? And am only allowed to know, after their passions are gone, of them even having any?

-

Her gaze was still caught on the high balustrade as she unlocked the door and began to enter into her now imminent future.

-

-That's all for now folks.

I should die without a purpose, if I'd had one before.

Hello all, I had something specific of which I wanted to relate here, But Alas! I have forgotten it. Bummer Days! On another note: do you think it terrible of me to have cried? I'm not sure why I did. And granted; it was not a sob, or an overwhelming tear-fest. I merely let a few drops slip from my eyes, and my lip quavered a bit. But still; I cried. Perhaps it was due to what was said. but That would make no sense. It was merely a denial of remembrance. then it must have to do with the psychology of my emotions that I have tied to what was to happen, before the denial was spoken. In other words: I had too much emotion riding on what I thought was to be. And again I was disappointed. Though, I should understand by now, from past experiences, that the remembrance of myself, or of anything to do with me, is not so well kept. I tend to be forgotten by many, if not all. But this does not take away from the fact that I must sojourn on. I must keep on keeping on. If I don't, I might just cease to exist as a whole. For a person without a purpose is not a person at all.

'tis not I who longs to change...

Hello again. Have I told you how restless I can be? Have I mentioned how much I dislike the way that things are going as far as life is concerned at the present? I truly cannot stand being kept in the dark on such things that should pertain to myself. If I wanted to be a bum, and didn't feel the need to contribute to society, or my general health, I would not mind that this is so long coming. Perhaps I am not as forward as I should be in the matter. However, I am not certain of how much more forward I can be, than saying it directly. Do not fret, I speak of more than one instance than just your plight. Any who!... I am resolute to stop dreaming of things that cannot come to pass. Though, my heart does not want me to relieve itself of the hopes, my logic will not allow me to keep on torturing myself with such fantasies. I pray that yesterday was your last, and I will be able to meet again with you without so much riding on your look and my desires. All these pretty words to say; yet again: I need to stop dreaming about you.

It was I who brought the rain.

A new decision in the way of writing; I will, and have, start(ed) writing down those seemingly monotonous scenes that scream through my brain on a day to day basis. So far, They seem very non-connected. And I'm working on developing a story for some scenes that are; undoubtedly connected. I just have to figure out how to take the character to the first scene; and from there to the others that keep me from sleeping. What I'm saying is; maybe it will all work out into one gigantic hodgepodge; but then again... It might become a concrete story. The problem with me is the writing in book form. I can write in scene form, but not in play form. I think I need to work on that. The combination of the two styles (with a twist) is way to confusing thus far. I think I develop the story; and then decide how I want to write it. From who's point of view will it be? Blah blah blah... correct; this is just idle musings that currently don't make sense. Other than that; I'm back in OC. whooHoo! I'm slowly and surely beginning to see who my friends are, and how close we will ever be. But more on that emo canter another time. for now, I'll busy myself with the reading and creating of stories and living in non-reality.

Who's line is this?

It's just one great line after another. But I don't always right them down. I've yet to find a way to connect them. And in the past; without enough of a connection... I got carried away. I've always, always, wanted to write a story. But I'm lacking a plot and characters. Today I thought; I could write a story about a person who's having troubles writing a story (you know, taking half truths and combining them with some sort of imaginative fantasy). But I still can't think of any wonderful things that anyone would want to read about into it (anyone being myself included). So I'm stuck again. With another notebook filling up with great one liners, and amazing dialogue flowing through my thought processes. Perhaps I need to decide how I want to go about thinking about it; before I go about thinking about the story fully... No, I just have no idea. So far it's a scene by scene thing; With no visible connectors; and different characters in each. Oh well... maybe one day I'll be able to construct one concrete vision; and write that one down properly.

Giving way to my subconscious Imagination.

Would you come to visit me if I moved to the UP? Would anybody care? Would I go crazy in that large old school? Would I be free with my creativity? would I lessen my already low skills of intercommunication? Why would I? The Town is smaller than the one I went to HS in. And it's so spread out... I love the city. Yes, the building is beautiful. And I could actually see myself there. But then; When I can see it happening the likelihood is that it most likely won't. Which could sadden me. But I've already splayed my more than typical tendency to run from what I love, everything logical. It's all just a giant fantasy. It won't happen anyway. But still I wonder... Would anyone come? would I gain any form of interaction? Or would I let my psyche take me wherever it felt to lead? An over active imagination can be a dangerous thing, Especially when set loose; nixing all trace of boundaries. I can see me. It's beautiful. It won't happen the way I see.