Musing

Muse.

Muse.

What are you, Muse?

I know I have a Muse. Although for the life of me, I don't know what my Muse is. My friends have Muses of music, of...really I don't know. What constitutes a Muse? Inspiration? I have little. And "apostrophe" or epiphany, whichever you prefer to call it? I really don't know and it is rather bothersome. I used to be able to write all the time. I wrote a short story based off the lines: "My dearest sister, We found your body today." It was fantastic. But for the life of me, I can't remember what prompted it. I know I was angry and I felt like someone needed to die, so I killed a character. But I guess I was also feeling sad and depressed like a part of me had died. I just wanting to crawl under a rock and die myself... Yeah, it was not a good moment.

Can emotions be a Muse?

Is it my Muse.

I need to find my Muse so then I know what it's name is. I need to be able to call on it at any time. Hopefully my creative writing class will be helpful in procuring up a Muse. Hopefully I will become some what more enlightened.

War of the Heart

One of my favorite songs is "Listen To Your Heart" by Roxette. Here they are:

"Listen To Your Heart"

I know there's something in the wake of your smile.
I get a notion from the look in your eyes, yea.
You've built a love but that love falls apart.
Your little piece of heaven turns too dark.

Listen to your heart
when he's calling for you.
Listen to your heart
there's nothing else you can do.
I don't know where you're going
and I don't know why,
but listen to your heart
before you tell him goodbye.

Sometimes you wonder if this fight is worthwhile.
The precious moments are all lost in the tide, yea.
They're swept away and nothing is what it seems,
the feeling of belonging to your dreams.

Listen to your heart
when he's calling for you.
Listen to your heart
there's nothing else you can do.
I don't know where you're going
and I don't know why,
but listen to your heart
before you tell him goodbye.

And there are voices
that want to be heard.
So much to mention
but you can't find the words.
The scent of magic,
the beauty that's been
when love was wilder than the wind.

Listen to your heart
when he's calling for you.
Listen to your heart
there's nothing else you can do.
I don't know where you're going
and I don't know why,
but listen to your heart
before you tell him goodbye.

Listen to your heart
when he's calling for you.
Listen to your heart
there's nothing else you can do.
I don't know where you're going
and I don't know why,
but listen to your heart
before you tell him goodbye.

It's probably one of my favorite songs because when I was writing a really hard part in one of my stories, this was the answer to her problem. No. It's because when I did have to make this kind of a choice, I listened to my head, my heart ended up getting squashed just a few months down the road.

Now, one might think that I listened to my head and  ran away from the guy, when in all actuality I broke up with the guy like my heart said to, but then, in listening to my head I kind of got back together with him. Odd? Yes, I know. My heart got smashed later when I realized he was cheating on me with a friend after we had broken up and got back together. When he was calling for me, I should have ran. I listened to my head in thinking, "These feelings make no sense. He is a good person and I really do want him to be my friend. I need someone now to help me deal with this. And he's the only one who is willing to listen..."

Yeah, it went on like that for a while. In my heart though, I knew it was wrong what I was doing. But I couldn't stop myself until I found out what he was doing. It hurt. Hurt worse then the starting of the New Year in high school. I couldn't believe it. 

I'd gone numb for a long time. I'd said some things that I wish I could change or completely take back. But my friend, the girl, now won't have anything to do with me. She was a good friend, so I thought. She did a lot for me in my Senior year of high school and I will never forget that. Part of me thinks she won't ever let me give the chance to ask for forgiveness. That if I tried, she wouldn't listen. It has eaten me up for a long time, but I feel like the words still haven't become right yet. Part of what I said to her, I still mean, but times have changed. The tone has changed. The raw hurt that was there when I said it is gone. Part of that hurt still twinges, but mainly for the loss of the close friendship that I had with the both of them. 

I miss my friends. 

I don't like having people hate me. I won't change to be liked; I would hope that people would like me for me, for the real me. Not dislike me for...emotion taking over and not really realizing what I had said and the un-implied implications of those words. 

I should have listened to my heart and then maybe I might not have lost two very dear friends. I did, however, gain the friendship of the boy back. I am very grateful to have his friendship. Although it isn't the same that it once had been, I think we've both definitely grown from the experience and, so far as I can tell, we've been able to put it behind us. There will be some things that are hard to talk about and are gently skirted around, but they are few. And I am glad. 

I've learned to listen to my heart. Listen to the Spirit. And to do as it says. 

My grandest hope, even if it is off in the future and even if it isn't in this life, and wish would be to have her forgiveness and that she'd want to be my friend again. A true friend. 

I miss her. 

Angela

In order to rekindle the love I have for Angela Purling, I decided to draw her. She has been so many different people over the years, starting with Caitlyn to Michelle to I don't know how many other names. But I love her. Sadly I don't know her all that well. I mean, when I drew her she was playing volleyball. Not really softball or gymnastics. She likes to have her hair down or if not down up in a ponytail. She is a fan of the designer, but she's also practical in that she can head to the local Walmart if she really needs a new pair of jeans desperately. And I mean desperately. She isn't one that would have to go shopping every Saturday with her bestest girlfriends to get the latest skirt.

You know, actually she doesn't have that many friends. Not that she wouldn't like to have them, but they just kind of don't come around. She sticks close to Tony, them being twins, it's kind of a given and Tony is more of a recluse although he is friendly. She became friends with Kimmi kind of on a whim because she happened to be walking her dog one night and Kimmi was getting out of her car with Haru to head home--they live just a few houses away from each other. Haru was the one that introduced them and started playing with the dog--trying to get on Angela's good side because he thought she was cute and the first girl they had met that was about their age. Angela had invited them over for a movie night that they were planning with Tony and his--now ex--girlfriend.

(Tony's girlfriend, Heidi, was a lot more high maintenance that Tony was in for. So she broke up with him because he wasn't paying that much attention to her. Wouldn't buy her things and take her out to dinner and what not. She was kind of a prick.)

They came over, watching a blowy-upy movie. Haru got to next to Angela for a while which made him very happy, Jessica was up on a love-sac in the corner eating pop corn, Kimmi was sitting there kind of awkward like, and Heidi was sitting practically in Tony's lap. He was kind of uncomfortable. After the movie and ice cream Haru and Tony got talking, Jessica went up stairs, and Heidi tried to get Kimmi to talk and Angela tried to ignore Heidi but still seem courteous. The courteous part kind of failed.

After Heidi left with Tony, he was driving her home, Angela started getting Kimmi to talk a little more. Figured out that Kimmi and Haru were transferring from Tokyo do to their father's business. Kimmi just started a job at the local library and Haru is getting ready for school. They start becoming friends. Haru tries to ask Angela out on a date, but fails miserably at it. Jessica can see that Haru likes her, but Angela--for the moment--is rather oblivious.

Angela tries to be a team player. Originally I had her play softball, but it didn't seen to fit. With her Ability, I thought it would be a good idea for her to be a gymnast and then she could bounce off walls and stuff. But that just didn't seem right either. So, the other day when I was drawing her, trying to flesh her out, I had her playing volleyball. She would probably be the setter, because she is rather short. But she is fast. She can get into position quickly and does her job well.

Blogs

So I feel a little good. Yesterday after I posted up that this was here, posted it on Facebook, I found out that I had 35 views. Sadly no followers, but whatever. I felt pretty good that there are some people who would be interested about what I had to say even if for right now there isn't actually all that much that I do, at the moment anyway.

I also found it rather entertaining that for most of the Blogs that I do follow, most people haven't actually posted anything on them sense last year or way earlier this year. Do none of my friends blog anymore? Probably not as of right now. They have busy lives, I have a crazy life and I'm actually really surprised that I have found the time to do it.

Although I know why I have time. It's because I'm really good at procrastinating my homework. I don't want to have to read 40 pages from a Russian guy at the moment. We is an okay book, not one that I would read on my own and right now D-503 is kind of going crazy so his narration is a bit off. Zamyatin is a good author though; he wrote this book as a sci-fi before there was even a sci-fi genre, which is kind of amazing.

The Beginnings of Thoughts--Ramblings

So, I realize that I fail. I made this blog not too  long after my 21st birthday, back in March--it's now September. I started it thinking I could write 21 memories for my 21st birthday. And wow, that took a lot of effort and I never actually finished it. I got to 18, I think.

Anyway, thoughts. What are thoughts but me talking to myself in my head? It's like Voices. I started having Voices in high school, although they weren't nearly as prominent as my friends made theirs out to be. Part of me thinks that they were exaggerating a little bit and that it wasn't as momentous as they made it out to be, but then again, there were some real crazies in my group of friends in high school, so they might have been telling the truth. But like I said, my Voices aren't nearly as fleshed out as my friend's were and I think that's what has made writing a bit harder for me than the rest of them.

I remember having a conversation with my friend Erika in Sunday School once about the Voices in our heads. I was talking about Angela and Sarah--at the time--and how they lived in my head. There were some really popular girls in my class that weren't nearly as crazy I my friends were, so when they overheard our conversation they looked at us as though--who would have thought--we were crazy. :D

One of them said, "You have people in your head?"

I said, "Yeah, they are really fun to talk to." (At this point in time I think my People were a lot more vocal than they are now, I think that might be my own fault in not actually letting them talk as much as I had back then. I mean I finished an entire novel my Sophomore or Jr year. And it was actually pretty good, the last part, the first part sucked beans.)

Blank stares of confusion. "They talk to you?"

"Yeah, they are the characters in my stories."

"How do you get them in there?"

"..." How am I supposed to answer that? It's not like I draw up a little person and shove them in through my ear holes. I can't do that and I'm sure that would break an eardrum or something. Not to mention PAPERCUTS!!!

But for me, I think it works better if I do end up drawing a picture of them. If I flesh them out on paper or find a similar photo in a magazine and work with them from there. I mean, that's not how it happens all the time, but I works well enough for me in the moment of their creation.

Recently, though, I've had a major problem. Angela Purling. She has gone by so many other names, but I think this is it. Angela has turned into Jessica. Angela, in the first draft of the novel I wrote my Sophomore, was awesome. She was smart, athletic, curious, willing to jump into a crisis or any unknown and explore it. Now, at least from Jessica's--her little sister--point of view, she's a pansy. And I don't know how to turn her back. I think it's the fact that I turned her into a gymnast instead of a softball player that has got her in a more girly mood, but I seriously can't turn her back into the awesomness that was Angela Roberts. I mean, how much does a sport and a last name change a person. I got married and changed my last name, I didn't change personalities though.

*sigh*

So, I've tried reading some of the old stuff that I have locked away on my computer and, although it can be hard to go through and see all the typos and dead ends/cliffhangers that I had left off--really parts of the story was horrible--I got to see a little bit of the old Angela that I and my friends loved. Well I hope they at least liked Angela. Victoria I know read it, and I believe Shelby read most of it. But they were so good in the role play that we did. I wish we could go and do another RP with out characters again. It was kind of ingenious how we did it and actually made it come to a complete end. I don't remember what it was and how we actually ended it, but I remember it being really good. Now, I really want to go reading it...

No, I need to work on Angela and that predicament. I don't know if I can actually find her again. I hope I can.

Angela. Please come back.