Lately I've noticed that people are cowardly. They're quite happy to spout their opinion of you, unless of course it's to your face. Oh well, people will continue to be people. I've been thinking I should start writing again. Well, that's not to say that I've entirely stopped writing, but the flow of ideas in my head has kind of slowed to a trickle. I tend to get bored of ideas too easily. I'll get halfway through the second chapter of a novel that I'm writing, and get bored, decide the characters are too flat, or the plot's too intricate, or too simple, and come up with an excuse to stop. Lately I haven't written much. I say I'm too busy, I mean I haven't been inspired. I'm sure sometime soon I'll get another idea, and manage not to back myself into a corner on it. I'm still waiting on that one, though.
I finished The Pillars of The World, and Shadows and Light, the sequel. I'll start on the last book in the series in a few days. I want to be able to write like that, create a world people wish they could find the door to. A book is only a window. If you ever went to elementary school, you know that there was always a kid with a head full of ideas, who could create a paralell universe at the drop of a hat, that the rest of the kids could lose themselves in for a recess, or for a month. I wasn't that kid. My best friend was. I was the kid who would build off it. I'd come up with the minute details, often losing sight of the big picture, but once I had a framework, I created the realism through those details. We never wrote our games down. We just played, and when they got old, we'd come up with a new one. To this day, that's how I write, when the feeling dulls, I find a new one.
I have some more song lyrics, as usual. This sound's kinda funky, and the words make me think of how different people react to heartbreak. Some try to gloss it over, some wallow, and some decide, hey it was good while it was around, but since it isn't anymore, why stress? Nice way to live if you can manage it. Three Dog Night's Old Fashioned Love Song.
Just an old fashioned love song
Playing on the radio
And wrapped around the music
is the sound of someone promising they'll never go.
You'll swear you've heard it before
As it slowly rambles on and on.
No need in bringing em back
Cause they've never really gone.
Just an old fashioned love song
One I'm sure they wrote for you and me,
Just an old fashioned love song
Coming down in three part harmony.
To weave our dreams upon and
Listen to each evening when the lights are low.
To underscore our love affair
With tenderness and feeling
That we've come to know.
You'll swear you've heard it before
As it slowly rambles on and on.
No need in bringing em back
Cause they've never really gone.
Just an old fashioned love song
Coming down in three part harmony.
Just an old fashioned love song
One I'm sure they wrote for you and me.
So there it is, I sure like them, you don't have to, although I hope you do.
Keep dreaming,
Daydream Believer.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Saturday, May 20, 2006
Love and Music
Well, I haven't got too much to say today. Just some lyrics from one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard. Vincent by Don Mclean
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul,
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand,
What you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free,
They would not listen, they did not know how,
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of China blue.
Colors changing hue,
Morning fields of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how,
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you,
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight on that starry starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do;
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.
Starry starry night,
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless heads on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free,
They would not listen, they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will.
Ok, so maybe I lied about not having much to say. The vast majority of music out there is about love in one way or another. All different kinds of love, including every possible angle from which the blind archer can hit you, and every possible missile with which he can hit you. I think it's pretty amazing that we can experience such a spectrum of emotion that we've only worked out one way to describe, Love. It's a lot like music, except that we haven't figured out how to devide it yet. You've got jazz, reggae, country, hip hop, R&B, even within rock, you've got rock and roll, grunge, glam rock, pop rock, punk, metal, the list goes on. It's all music, but each one has a different distinct sound.
So I've got a challenge for anyone who happens to be reading this, reach outside your boundaries. Break the monotony. If you're a strictly country gal, try some jazz, hard rock purists, listen to rap, and I dare you to enjoy it. Same with love. Expand your horizons. There are as many ways to love as there are people to love, we just haven't seperated the smooth jazz from the punk rock yet.
Happy Daydreaming.
Daydream Believer
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul,
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand,
What you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free,
They would not listen, they did not know how,
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of China blue.
Colors changing hue,
Morning fields of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how,
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you,
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight on that starry starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do;
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.
Starry starry night,
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless heads on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free,
They would not listen, they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will.
Ok, so maybe I lied about not having much to say. The vast majority of music out there is about love in one way or another. All different kinds of love, including every possible angle from which the blind archer can hit you, and every possible missile with which he can hit you. I think it's pretty amazing that we can experience such a spectrum of emotion that we've only worked out one way to describe, Love. It's a lot like music, except that we haven't figured out how to devide it yet. You've got jazz, reggae, country, hip hop, R&B, even within rock, you've got rock and roll, grunge, glam rock, pop rock, punk, metal, the list goes on. It's all music, but each one has a different distinct sound.
So I've got a challenge for anyone who happens to be reading this, reach outside your boundaries. Break the monotony. If you're a strictly country gal, try some jazz, hard rock purists, listen to rap, and I dare you to enjoy it. Same with love. Expand your horizons. There are as many ways to love as there are people to love, we just haven't seperated the smooth jazz from the punk rock yet.
Happy Daydreaming.
Daydream Believer
Friday, May 19, 2006
Floating Over Nothing
Ever notice how people always tell you to just be yourself but they're never happy when you do. Even people who like you just as you are the way they say friends are supposed to don't. And can't, for that matter. Sometimes they don't really like you, this isn't always the case, more often it's that they don't know how you are when you're just the way you are. They may like the way they see you, but once you change the way they see you, they look at you differently. They have to, there isn't another choice.
Everyone has secrets, it's just a matter of who knows them, and when you decide to share them with the ones who don't know yet. Sometimes they're secrets because you're ashamed, or afraid of what might happen if they weren't secrets anymore, sometimes they've been pushed so far into the back of your mind, it just never occurs to you to tell anyone.
Changing gears, have you ever noticed that even though people fear the unknown, they also crave it? Why else did explorers sail, possibly to their deaths, from Europe to chart out a new world? Why else do fantasy and science fiction books and movies sell so well? The unknown is exciting. It offers us a place where we don't have to wonder where our next meal is coming from, or think about any of the mundane day-to-day routine that has lost its novelty. Although the unknown is frightening because we can't predict how it will react to us, and how we'll react to it, it allows us something that is hard to find in what you already know, something new. Something that can give you a new lease on life. If you get that chance, take it, new leases on a thing like life don't come around too often.
Changing gears again, but not so much, I've been reading this really phenomenal book, called Pillars of the World. There are a bunch of reasons why it's so phenomenal, one of which is that I didn't think it was going to be that good, but it sucked me right in anyways. Another reason is the intricate plotline. There are several different sub-plots going on, but they're woven together so well you don't have to work hard to keep the mseperate in your mind, also, although the connections are clear, they aren't made blatantly, with boisterous fanfare and a circus announcer screaming, "I'm an important plot point, remember me when you get into the next chapter!" Another thing I found interesting about the story is that since sex is an important aspect of the story, it is, after all a power struggle between ancient matriarchs and those who would usurp them, the text carefully toes the line between shying away from the actual sex and gratuitous overuse. Something I found interesting was the way that the society in the story approached sex in general. Granted, they aren't actually human, but their cultural mindset accepts the fact that sex can be pleasurable, and more importantly, it accepts that as a species, their nature is to be polygamous. Apparently some studies have recently come out suggesting that humans also by nature, are polygamous, and before civilization as we know it came about, likely did not mate for life. This could be poppycock, but if there's any truth to it, it would explain an awful lot.
Anyways, that's all I've got on my mind for now.
Daydream Believer
Everyone has secrets, it's just a matter of who knows them, and when you decide to share them with the ones who don't know yet. Sometimes they're secrets because you're ashamed, or afraid of what might happen if they weren't secrets anymore, sometimes they've been pushed so far into the back of your mind, it just never occurs to you to tell anyone.
Changing gears, have you ever noticed that even though people fear the unknown, they also crave it? Why else did explorers sail, possibly to their deaths, from Europe to chart out a new world? Why else do fantasy and science fiction books and movies sell so well? The unknown is exciting. It offers us a place where we don't have to wonder where our next meal is coming from, or think about any of the mundane day-to-day routine that has lost its novelty. Although the unknown is frightening because we can't predict how it will react to us, and how we'll react to it, it allows us something that is hard to find in what you already know, something new. Something that can give you a new lease on life. If you get that chance, take it, new leases on a thing like life don't come around too often.
Changing gears again, but not so much, I've been reading this really phenomenal book, called Pillars of the World. There are a bunch of reasons why it's so phenomenal, one of which is that I didn't think it was going to be that good, but it sucked me right in anyways. Another reason is the intricate plotline. There are several different sub-plots going on, but they're woven together so well you don't have to work hard to keep the mseperate in your mind, also, although the connections are clear, they aren't made blatantly, with boisterous fanfare and a circus announcer screaming, "I'm an important plot point, remember me when you get into the next chapter!" Another thing I found interesting about the story is that since sex is an important aspect of the story, it is, after all a power struggle between ancient matriarchs and those who would usurp them, the text carefully toes the line between shying away from the actual sex and gratuitous overuse. Something I found interesting was the way that the society in the story approached sex in general. Granted, they aren't actually human, but their cultural mindset accepts the fact that sex can be pleasurable, and more importantly, it accepts that as a species, their nature is to be polygamous. Apparently some studies have recently come out suggesting that humans also by nature, are polygamous, and before civilization as we know it came about, likely did not mate for life. This could be poppycock, but if there's any truth to it, it would explain an awful lot.
Anyways, that's all I've got on my mind for now.
Daydream Believer
Monday, May 15, 2006
Little Glass Box
Ok, so now I've got my little glass box. Figuratively, at least. I've got my pile of stones, and my throwing arm all warmed up. Only thing left to do is fire off a round or two.
Anyone ever noticed that you can never have the best of both worlds? Or even a nice tidy middle ground. There are all sorts of places where this is obvious. Let's start with politics, you've got the whole abortion debate, in which there's no middle ground whatsoever. You're either a religious nut or a babykiller, and that's all there is to it. Or in real life, a girl can't just be a girl anymore, she's either a militant feminist or a doormat. There's no two ways about it, pick your poison, ladies.
On a slightly less disappointed in society note, as long as we have ears, there's going to be music to entertain and delight us. Today, my music of choice happens to be The Ataris, which for those of you who don't know, is a group who sings music with meaningful lyrics which don't make you want to curl up in a hole and die. I consider this a rarity, and that much more valuable because of it. I'm all for music that makes you want to curl up in a hole and die, and I'm all for music with meaningless lyrics, but all things in moderation.
Anyways, in case you haven't already guessed, I'm going to write in a manner somewhat remeniscent of the thought processes of a scizophrenic, by which I mean slightly irregular and highly sporadic.
In case you care, I'm going to tell you a bit about myself. I have trouble focusing for very long unless the thing I'm focusing on is extremely interesting to me, in which case it'll still be a little sketchy. I thrive on panic. I'm an adrenaline junkie. I create dragons to slay, mostly out of a lack of anything better to do. I am not a gamer, someone once tried to teach me to play Halo, and... well it didn't work at all. I love people, and I like to try to figure out what makes them tick, although I'm usually waaaay out in left field. That doesn't matter, I like the challenge. Ask me any day, and odds are my theory about why life exists will be completely different from the one I gave you the day before. I like thinking, and if I could, I'd like to jump into someone's mind and climb around for awhile. Some someones more than others.
Lately one of my friends has been trying to tell me something about himself without actually telling me. As much as I'd like to fancy myself a master detective, the truth of the matter is that I'm not, and am unlikely to become one anytime soon. He also speaks quite candidly, albeit occaisionally, about someone he refers to only as "her". If I don't figure out who this "her" is soon, I might well be poised for a somewhat feline demise.
It just occured to me just how much I'm going to miss some people who are extremely important to me, although I'm pretty sure they don't know it. I should probably let them know sooner rather than later. Has anyone else noticed that it's many times easier to say "I hate you" than "I love you"? I guess we just live in a hating age. I'm having a chatty day, talking a thousand miles a minute, and not being able to type fast enough to keep up with my train of thought.
I'd like to believe that there's a place that exists only as often as we need it, and that's inside our daydreams. It's completely real, but completely unattached to this world, where we can be happy without worrying about what people will think of us for being happy, and take a vacation from the ordinary to surround ourselves with the incredible. Everybody needs to break the monotony once in awhile.
Daydream Believer
In case you care, I'm going to tell you a bit about myself. I have trouble focusing for very long unless the thing I'm focusing on is extremely interesting to me, in which case it'll still be a little sketchy. I thrive on panic. I'm an adrenaline junkie. I create dragons to slay, mostly out of a lack of anything better to do. I am not a gamer, someone once tried to teach me to play Halo, and... well it didn't work at all. I love people, and I like to try to figure out what makes them tick, although I'm usually waaaay out in left field. That doesn't matter, I like the challenge. Ask me any day, and odds are my theory about why life exists will be completely different from the one I gave you the day before. I like thinking, and if I could, I'd like to jump into someone's mind and climb around for awhile. Some someones more than others.
Lately one of my friends has been trying to tell me something about himself without actually telling me. As much as I'd like to fancy myself a master detective, the truth of the matter is that I'm not, and am unlikely to become one anytime soon. He also speaks quite candidly, albeit occaisionally, about someone he refers to only as "her". If I don't figure out who this "her" is soon, I might well be poised for a somewhat feline demise.
It just occured to me just how much I'm going to miss some people who are extremely important to me, although I'm pretty sure they don't know it. I should probably let them know sooner rather than later. Has anyone else noticed that it's many times easier to say "I hate you" than "I love you"? I guess we just live in a hating age. I'm having a chatty day, talking a thousand miles a minute, and not being able to type fast enough to keep up with my train of thought.
I'd like to believe that there's a place that exists only as often as we need it, and that's inside our daydreams. It's completely real, but completely unattached to this world, where we can be happy without worrying about what people will think of us for being happy, and take a vacation from the ordinary to surround ourselves with the incredible. Everybody needs to break the monotony once in awhile.
Daydream Believer
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