Who wants to be a Fire Heart....?
:] Of course you do silly...it is the biggest wish and the greatest desire...
To be filled with a burning fire...or an electricity,
power upon power.
As a Fire Heart you can hear more and most definitely see more...
You are the ones who See what the Skyy sees,
The gears and mechanics that brace the night sky,
the way that stars are not merely just stars - but whole planets,
swirling and spinning at crazy-fast speeds
and with a billion techni-colour bursts of light and hues.
More than likely...as you grow into life as a Fire Heart,
you will grow scales...that reflect the true colour of your Inner Fire,
and they will shift and change their appearance...depending on your moods...
Only fear the Hunters, the crawling smiles that get too close and the fearful Black Jade...
Harhar...I feel like all my vigour and jolliness has been sucked out of me today...mainly, it feels like a trembly sort of a day. Where I just feel flat-eyed and that I don't fit into my skin well....these are perhaps, not as bad as the days where I feel just....humid, which is often when the weather will feel humid too. But you know the feeling...when you just feel hot and stuffed in and somehow both hungry and not and thirsty and not.
There's no definite conviction or emotion or way...but it's not peaceful either.
I want the days where I feel a peaceful heat in my bones...and when the trees and land seems to draw closer to me wherever I walk (don't ask me to explain that either hehe). Or the days where I am bitter or the emotion is negative...because at least that's a definite emotion.
But enough....
Sometimes the world feels otherly.... do you ever get that?
Say if you look up at the night sky, and it just seems so vast and wild that, you feel like it's all on the verge of moving or doing something.
I think there's places in the world where the line between ours and some other place or dimension or presence or...I'm not sure what exactly, brush up against each other...that in certain places and situations, more things are possible and there are doooors.
Sounds rather mad an idea? It most definitely is...I've become more and more convinced lately that in some ways...I have the crazies inside of me. What I mean by that...is that, it's an off-kilter mind-space inside of me, and sometimes what I write or say doesn't seem to make sense anymore...but really :] we're all a bit crazy aren't we?
I just think for me, the craziness has had a chance to grow starting with the island I spent a year on...and extending in ways now. I think the isolation and way of that sort of institution-like place can really...make you go tropo...island fever hehe.
Ah to be a bird, a heard...a shrub...don't mind the madness, it's only mildly contagious... XD
An off-beat sensation,
Like tiny running keys...
That grows with the shadows and cracks in the walls,
A music only you can hear,
A warping of the mirror you've always held to you...
and a distaste for the obvious,
a Pin-pointed at two...
What is it called...
this adoption of mentalities?
And believe me dear friends...
I'm not really sooo mad,
Just a bit melodramatic,
Please don't take me too seriously,
but hold the reigns,
Because oneday I might...
and it will be too late,
Only for so long can one,
toy fretfully with fate...
He doesn't like to rest,
and his shadow does hound,
I'd like a respite please,
Mr. White n S...
there is no sound,
Only a shadow abiding by...
Why do greyhounds soak up the sun,
When they cannot feel the heat?
Why do I plunge myself into labyrinth's,
with full knowledge of my choice...
Maybe a flat life terrifies me,
and Maybe I'm addicted to being the victim of a dark force,
Maybe it's to find, find, find
find...
what we can with what time we are given...
Maybe it's boredom,
And that perhaps Scares me more.
I think it takes gall and a certain strength to write (I'm not saying that I have those, and please don't think I'm boasting...), what I mean by that...is that, when you truly write, you put many parts of yourself into the stories and characters and poems and everything else. We have to be prepared for the possibility that one day someone could and probably will put two and two together and realize how we were referring to ourselves and those we know...and often how warped our viewpoint can be.
But we have to chance it...for some absurd reason unknown to me...that we write whatever we write and then allow all those personal encoded truth-lie-tales, to be judged and beaten down as they're edited and changed.
In some ways, by choosing to write...we're permitting the critisism of ourselves.
Heyy, and before I go I had one crazy-ass theory yesterday that came to me...
The ideas for stories...when they're really powerful often just come from no-where, along with all their characters. Like, for one story I wrote, I didn't have any plan to write it, I was just sitting on the couch one day and, bam...I had this burning, burning feeling inside of me...that I desperately had to start writing, and so I did...and in one week...I had the draft of a new novel. Crazyy huh?
But my theory was that...well either there's some elite society or group that controls everything...and that part of keeping us under control is sending out to our brains all these random story ideas...like implanted memories, or planted memories...to occupy us.
Or...well, Stephen King's theory is really nice...that stories are artifacts that we dig up. But then it could be more...like a disease. Yes, a disease or a flu.
They float around all the in-between places...and then randomly latch onto people...that stories are living creatures, and we are merely the host through which to channel this tale.
Ooh, that's rather creepy...they're like...aliens.
Maybe they're sent to us from above?
Who knows...but hey, you up there , keep sending the tales please or else, please let me catch the story bug again hehe...
Anyways...
Byeeeeeeee
Miss CLScarlett xx
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