novel excerpt. “i thought too much, and did too little”

i was always a serious child
i thought too much, and did too little
and stuck to the safety nets of swings and sandcastles while other kids braved through monkey bars and climbing the trees on the playground

i watched a lot of movies, and read a lot of books, so
i saw things differently, in my head
i was the lead role, and i had a special purpose
“the chosen one”
this weird little self-indulgent, yet oh so common theme in fiction
and i fed right into it

thinking i could control the weather, and seeing magical trees where there was lightposts
breathing life into inanimate objects
and believing a swing could teach me to fly

i had alternate names and identities
and thought fame was something worth attaining
little did i know

reality was always much too mundane, is always too mundane
and i loved seeing colours where there was only grey, and feeling like the wind in my hair
was there just to kiss my cheeks and brighten my day 

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( just another novel excerpt )

pleasebeokay,pleasebeokay,pleasebeokay

i want to save you.
let me save you.
 
but you knew all too well, how hard it is to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.
 
it’s more complicated than you think. he whispered.
much more complicated than you think. he whispered.
 
and then he walked away.
 
 
 
but you knew exactly what he meant.

dear dreams –

dear dreams,

i remember you being slightly bigger, way back when.
much, much bigger. like, the size of a flying building times an airplane, or the power to control the weather, and be a famous singer and dancer and an awesome kindergarten teacher, all at the same time. or something.

looking back, it seems as though, all the time that i spent growing, you spent shrinking. and your decreasing pattern was probably not linear.

the first things that i think changed you, were the things that i watched and read over and over, and then you became love songs and poems and stories, and i became a character in a novel.

you were still pretty big back then. just, a different colour, maybe. i can’t really be sure. my memory is not too good, but. i’m sure you were still pretty big. maybe.

so. then. how did you become so small?

ah. of course. the inevitable. well, maybe not “inevitable” since some do seem to be able to get away without being too affected by It, but most don’t, and i’m one of the most, aren’t i? i guess i am.

you just kept shrinking and shrinking until you went from the size of magic and fame to the size of dandelions-are-pretty, and thank-you-cards-to-strangers, and post-it-notes-at-bus-stops, and letters to no one.

but, hey,
It has only showed me the cliff,
but i haven’t fallen off the edge, have i?

even though i’m a ‘most’,
i’m still fighting, aren’t i?
fighting using letters and sounds and drawings and smiles,
instead of buildings, and fame, and nobel peace prizes.

but, still.
i am fighting, and  – though
your vision has changed,
and your path has changed –
your (realtrueultimate) goal hasn’t, has it?

i don’t know.
i think it hasn’t.

and, i guess Changes are okay.
i wonder why most ‘most’s seem so afraid of them.

i don’t mind your new look so much.

just, do one thing for me.

because i don’t want It to consume me, and
i want to keep running after you. so, just,

always be something worth chasing.

and if, sometimes, i fall behind,
please be fair and give me some time to catch up.

thanks.

yours, always,
– me.

p.s. Reality is worth a visit, but i like living in you much much better. honest.


 

just one of my earlier pieces. :B a letter to my dreams. it was part of this 30 day 30 letter challenge thing (which i never finished, heh~).

i’m scared.

please (-and i)
please understand that the last time i remember being completely carefree about quickened heartbeats and blushed cheeks were the days when i did quizzes on blogthings for entertainment and rushed through my math homework so i could go on the computer as early as possible. those were the days of red scribbles on grid paper before i lost touch with things and then the paper turned into pink and white sticky notes promoting breast cancer awareness with scribbles made from pencils or maybe blue pen i

don’t (-know)
don’t forget i gave you something special twice. and i don’t know if you know this clearly but you ripped it apart once twice bit by bit by bit and threw it away and i took it back. i took back all the pieces and super glue-gun’d them together and hid it from you and locked it and hid the key under the mat and taped the mat to the floor and camouflaged it with words that were the same colour as everything i said before but they didn’t come from the same place because that place didn’t exist anymore since life always seems to

break (-all good things)
break things into pieces or sometimes shatter them. and laugh at you while you try to gather up each and every piece and put it back together but you never really can put it all back the way it was because, some of the shattered pieces are too small for you to see. and sometimes you can’t pick up some of the pieces because the edges are too sharp and if you try your fingertips will bleed and you know it and you know that you can’t always fix things with bandages. and sometimes, you try to pick those pieces up anyway. and you bleed. just like you knew you would. and i didn’t want that to happen to the ‘something special’ i gave you and that’s why i took it back before you could break it that badly. i hope you know that the ‘something special’ that i gave you was

me (-never)
me always, but i liked to pretend as though i could win when i was losing and i just wanted to feel like i was in first place and i guess being last is in a way better than being second. still. i liked to think if i just left the race, or maybe got myself disqualified – whichever was easier – then it wouldn’t hurt to lose so badly and good-ly at the same time, almost like a paradox. and that’s a horrible feeling, because almost no one really likes the last few letters of the alphabet and, so i wanted to drop the race, and convince myself that i could win

again (-last)
again a paradox because winners don’t usually come in last. or maybe paradox is the wrong word, probably, because i never did know the difference between juxtaposition and paradox and all the other contradicting or contrasting or whatever they were called, those terms. i knew what oxymoron meant though. like ‘extremely average’, or bittersweet, or painless love. but other than that, i didn’t understand the terms, not fully, and i just guessed my way through grade ten english, the same way that i guess my way through life. the same way that i guess i gave you almost everything back again, am giving you everything back again. and i think that is what i want except i’m scared because your mind might be made of water and i know that sea monsters exist.

and last night i had a dream that i was a fish who didn’t know how to swim.

just some prose which will most likely be incorporated in some form or another in my WIP slice-of-life story titled “in case you cared”. ^^

“the storytellers” excerpt: faster, faster, faster!

  faster, faster, faster!
     oh, wind, please stop pushing me backward.
i need to catch up —
the wind howls in my ears
grabs at my arms, legs, hair. engulfs me in a mini tornado.
dark, wet leaves wildly dance about, and the trees can barely stand still, and i can barely keep going
but, please
i have to. i need to.
my legs trip over branches, and twigs, and there is no opening.
no opening.
large waving twig arms, and old, rotting trees cover the sky
block the clouds
the darkness and fog work with the wind
they keep pushing at me, pushing at me, throwing rocks, dead leaves, anything it can find at me.
i have to close my eyes,
     and i trip
and i keep falling, and falling
i gulp
     and try to breathe
     but the air refuses to come to me
i open my mouth to scream
but my voice turns into bubbles
and something strange is entering my lungs and
i knew i should have taken those swimming lessons
i stop trying to call out to someone, anyone,
because no one else lives here anyway
no one else but me exists here
in this world where the sun never rises.