I’m on this day. Moving through in complete control of myself. Every day can be the best even in losing track.
When you’re trying your hardest to remain awake when on bus and your eyes keep closing and then you are in the first layer of sleep. Your mind pulls to the weirdest parts, as the outside world still contributes to the craziness within, do you still sleep?
Good bye, I say this after a couple of months, that’s just how things work isn’t it. We go in with a hope, only to come out some time later disappointed. That’s life, no one is perfect sadly. Here I sit. What brings you to my mind, to the place where I most commonly spill my guts… everything pours out and luckily I have a reader such as yourself to listen and ponder as everyone does. As we should.
Don’t over analyze things, if you do things can get confusing . I mean every day is a gift and if you are too focused on yesterdays gift then hoe could you appreciate what you are presently given! Cape Diem.
A dream of defeating the man with a jeweled blade while he rode atop his beast made of incomprehensible shadow was Maindra’s dream. Only now he was stuck in the darkness around remnants of a life that was taken from him. The air tasted bitter; unnaturally sweet in some breaths. In time he grew used to it. “Maindra,” he said as the name’s memory awoke some part of himself long forgotten.
He had no love for the name Maindra; he commonly felt it was a gift he could never accept. He went by Main, that is what made the most sense to him. His blonde hair was a mess in the darkness, his soundly built figure was never affected by the time spent in the place alone. Even then, he felt that he was a person of great importance; he could not see any other reason for his name being what it was.
Main stood in the room thinking to himself. He felt his hands grow cold, in this lone room something was missing. Again, he remembered he was alone with thoughts and whatever memories decided to rear their heads to him. There was a slight breeze. At first, it was cold; though with time warmness overcame him. He was sitting under a tree in this memory. It felt so real. Though at the same time, it was unsettling. The sun was setting slowly, the blueness of the sky was mixing to become the purest of oranges. A part of him knew that it was not real, equally so, he did not care. He looked to his left to see a girl with amber hair beside him, she was fast asleep against his shoulder. While she was unable to recall her name, her presence made him calm. His muscles relaxed and he kissed her. It felt as though that was how it was supposed to happen, of course, another deeply saddened part of himself knew that these events would never come to pass. after several seconds, his body froze with fear, “What happened between us?” The color faded and he was back in darkness.
“I think that the proper question is, What didn’t happen between us,” A voice echoed through the chamber, sounding tired. “I think that you only wish that dream had come to fruition. That which never happened to you
“Can you describe the life you were supposed to have,” he hears the voice and just like that the memories explode in his head like fireworks. He was supposed to get the family at the impressionable age of twelve. “You already know all of this, why force me to say it?” Main sat up on his knees, tears welling up in his eyes as they began to look glassy.
The being paused, “Damn it! Don’t pause! Don’t talk in the third person! I know it’s you!” Main took a deep breath “Good idea to breathe,” the voice now echoed through to his pedestal in the darkness, “Wouldn’t want your head to explode especially when there is so much more to discuss!” He breathed in again it was shallow, weak, and tired. He was unsure of why he kept hearing the voice, all he was that it existed within his own mind
“I remember, I was supposed to wake every morning with my older sister teasing me some. It’s about my adoption, I would hate it at first, but then after a while, we would grow up beyond such petty behavior and develop a friendship. I would find love with this girl with amber hair, she would be kidnapped on several occasions, and I would save her only to prove our love for each-other time and time again.
“Don’t you see now that someone has taken those lovely memories out of the realm of possibilities? Now they are nothing but a pleasant dream. That will make the place you reside in now all the more dreadful. I am sorry, but you are doomed to die here.”
For an unknown amount of time, he was alone, the passage didn’t matter, the scenery never changed, the sun never rose, only bright stars twinkled. He was alone with his thoughts. “The righteous always return to glory,” he mumbled to himself. Memories of a life that was stolen from him flashed by his eyes. He was unable to make it out clearly, but he remembered a looming shadow the size of incomprehensibility, being defeated by a majestic blade whose beauty was only comparable to the girl with amber hair. They were to stand together at a tree of great significance, and he would pull away from the jewels from the blade and present them to her as a necklace
He couldn’t bear to think of the rest.“I must not let my destiny be taken from me.” He screamed at the top of his lungs, the damp air cooled the heat within himself, “Where the hell are you!” He said, his vision growing clearer by the second… “I have to save my family from that monster…” He heard the wind rustle back to him, and it felt cold again.
“See that’s the initiative you need to make a difference. Destroy that replacement of yours and the world can be rewritten without the man who stole your destiny.” The voice he had heard so many times returned. A shadowy hand reached out to him, holding a blade whose hilt had diamonds fused into it. “Use this blade to take back your birthright. Finish the one they call the hero.”
Upon grasping the blade, he felt a surge of energy flow through his arm. “I will save them from them horrendous fate of the hero’s lies.” There was a blast of light, and his feet were in another dark place. In front of him lay a snakelike creature. It was curled tightly into a corner. The moonlight finally poured in from the ceiling, his pupils shrank. The animal repositioned itself. Main stood there, his breath leaving his mouth as if it were smoke. “Are you the one who spoken to me?”
The creature declined to answer, its head glistening with black scales. It rested and allowed Main to climb onto his body. The sound of water seeped through the entire room as the creature stood on all fours. It jumped toward the wall and began to climb. Main’s hands grasped tightly onto the smallest of spikes he could find. When he felt the creature hold onto a ledge, he saw a little being with sticklike limbs; Its hands were reaching for him.
“You finally know what you must do?” The creature’s shrill voice matched the one from the cave. “You must save them all from the one they will wrongfully call the hero!” The face of the being was scrunched up and unrecognizable to any human eyes. Main slid off his mount’s back and stared down the creature. It recoiled and then regained some courage. “We hope you shall bring an end to that man per our request.” It gave a bow and then pulled him down. “Do as you must. Save the girl.”
Every word that is written still echoed through his mind, harsh voices repeating the phrase each part with only a second of space between each word only said one second apart. He had to end the sounds. “I must also know how to protect the bringers of truth.” He smiled, “Tell me everything you know.” The back of its head began to bubble around the edges. “Are you unable to think too hard about these matters?” The creature nodded, Main could see the head relax. The ceiling was flickering with the movement they were on the roofs observing him, undoubtedly ready to pounce if they felt this one to be threatened. “It’s going to have to be one swoop.” He looked at his blade; it could certainly destroy a few of them but not at all. “The one who stole my life shall pay!” The creature smiled at that statement; Main returned to the scaly beast behind him. “Only I must ask you one simple question: Where is it that your kind resides from?’ He climbed back onto the monster and left, behind him there was the bubbling sound of the creatures head bursting, some in unison and others later as they tried not to think. The Blood flooded the chamber and fell down the well of darkness as Main headed to the surface. His only intent was to finish the monster who took his life by any means necessary.
One last time the memory of the amber-haired girl crept at his subconscious, a family of four rushed his mind. If he could only kill the one believed to be the hero, they would all be saved. He met the sky atop an incomprehensible shadow holding a jeweled blade.
Writing by itself is weird. It is not something you can easily brag about doing. There have been countless time I’ll talk to someone and they’ll say, “Oh reading is for losers.” The interesting thing is that by someone attacking reading they are also attacking the writing half of the equation, in order for a writer to get out there into the world someone has to do the reading, In movies, at some point, everyone is looking at words to describe what is to be there. The script is written before it is spoken. Therefore ink kisses the pages, making things come to fruition. Making it real. Still though the problem sits, you can’t casually show off writing, as far as anyone’s concerned they are simple runes struck on page, you can write the most heart felt thing on this earth but if someone isn’t completely open to it. Or if you know how to properly trigger someones emotion. It’s that emotional response, it doesn’t matter what it is about if you can make someone feel something you have succeeded
The catch is, you have to do it every day, test things, try things… you can’t care too much if someone hates what you do, everyday you learn more and more so judging someone on their past works , it is only a stepping stone, everyday is a step to perfect the craft even if no one is looking.
Music on this post
Take an umbrella (Neil Davidge )
Lost People (Neil Davidge)
In a matter of speaking the ability to observe is essential, maybe you saw my latest post on Infinity War, perhaps you didn’t want to look at it because you don’t want spoilers. That is understandable, don’t worry I won’t judge. Perhaps you didn’t see that it was spoiler-free because you are so worried about having it ruined, so yes being able to observe can be quite crucial in avoiding a spoiler, but still, if you are too careful you won’t be able to read my exhilarating review!
I remember last Friday I had a good thing going, I was writing a short story for fun and then shortly after the fact, I thought to myself, “You know what would be fun?” Putting the story on my blog for everyone to see and give feedback if they want!
Great idea right?
Well, theoretically yes! A creative person has to get feedback somehow right? Actually, this isn’t even really exclusive to the “creative” types! I’m sure that you love to get feedback no matter what you are doing! Chef’s do it to improve recipes, Directors use it to figure what tricks work and what don’t.
Well, that didn’t work. I had my sister read the story out loud and, it wasn’t terrific structurally that is. I wanted to publish it right away, but it’s better for it to be good quality rather than being out right away and terrible so if you are pushing yourself, take a second to breathe and make sure it is really exactly what you want it to be!
You ever sit down to write a blog post and realize suddenly that you really don’t know what to say today… Then you wonder to yourself, oh man why am I even doing this, well in case that opening sentence made you exclaim, “Hey that’s just like me!”
Okay first off not every day is going a mind-boggling explosion of inspiration. I’ll be one to admit that it would be genuinely phenomenal if every waking moment were a significant, overpowering stream of game-changing ideas but as I like saying with balance, is that to understand or truly appreciate the moments that are a fresh inspiration. So with that in mind, you and I are able to figure out the best moment of inspiration. We all need to figure out how to push through the dry spells where you don’t know what to do, technically there is no need to worry if an idea is terrible, more so if it can work with you best! Maybe this post helped to get you through writer’s block. Good luck with what you are writing next!