It’s Sunday! We did it! We made it to the end of the week, or the beginning (if you’re awkward like that). Anyway, the blog starts like this because I didn’t know how else to begin. As usual, I know… a simple hi or hey or if I want to seem cool and down with the kids “whatssup” should suffice do it (I can’t be a cool kid when I use the word suffice) but it feels all, what’s that word again…streeeet wrong.
The Little Mermaid bit up there actually kind of fits. My brain is being bad, it’s making me feel like I don’t belong where I know that I do. Sitting with family, talking normally, and I’m there smiling with my mouth but not my eyes (it’s my thing, kinda like how some girls only wear Chanel) and I get this hollow feeling in my chest. This, I don’t fit here. I’m the broken puzzle piece my nephew chewed on. I know it’s just in my head, at least I hope it is, and I’m sure we all feel like this. It’s uncomfortable though and then sometimes I make it worse by wondering if I actually do want to be a part of that world. I do though, deep down, I think. I know I do. I don’t know.
Let’s move on…
“I don’t see how a world that makes such wonderful things…could be bad…” stupid fish-lady, it’s a bloody fork.
I’m not sure if any of you saw this but I’m now my biggest fan.
What can I say? I’m brilliant. I should be saying such wonderful things about myself! I should also remind my boyfriend at all times to sign out of my account when he’s commenting on my blog! If you see a Snek around, that’s him. If you see me praising myself, that is also him. Or it’s me after I’ve been possessed by a demon with a terrible, terrible ego.
You know at one point I thought I was possessed by a demon.
I couldn’t understand why my brain was acting up, nor could I place this singular voice that I sometimes hear, this laughter. I think I’ve spoken about hearing voices before. It’s not like you see in the films, no one is telling me to kill anyone. It’s either putting things in my head in reference to OCD “if you don’t do this then this will happen” or I’m hearing conversations that aren’t happening.
At times, when I was pretty disturbed by my OCD, in the sense that it completely controlled me, I’d hear my friends talking – people I hadn’t spoken to in years. I’d hear full blown conversations and I’d be shushing them because I needed to concentrate on locking the door and they wouldn’t shut up. In fact, two characters in Kidnapping Death’s Daughter are based on voices I used to hear, they’re a minor role, but still.
I suppose all writers base characters on voices they hear. These ones weren’t talking to me though, they were being rude and talking over my thoughts. Bloody noise makers. Anyway, that’s a lot better now, but the hag – lovingly nicknamed after my experiences with sleep paralysis (have you ruddy had that? It’s horrible!) is still about. Crazy talk, huh? But I’m more in control now which means less fear which means less hag. I know it’s not really a demon, but I’d love to share my ghostbuster experiences on here sometime. I might have in the past actually, I know I wrote about them somewhere. Probably on a word document where all the other stuff sleeps. No idea what I believe when it comes to that stuff, but it’s interesting. I love a good camp fire ghost story.
Oh! Have you seen The Mist? The TV version, not the film. I know it’s had some pretty scathing reviews about it moving too slowly and what not but I don’t mind that. To me The Mist (still need to read the book) was about looking at the nature of mankind, not all about blood and gore. People seem to need fast-paced action and a beheading in the first five minutes these days…uh, scrap that actually, it kind of does happen in the start of The Mist. I like it though. It keeps me up at night like a really fun lover but I can eat yoghurts while enjoying it so it’s better.
I finally got some prompt writing down, thanks to all of you that liked or commented on it! It really means a great deal to me. It’s a strange thing, but the more followers I get the more timid I feel and I constantly need to remind myself to shurrup and get on with it. I guess it’s this weird mix of fear of failure and success. Is anyone else afraid of success? I want it but I don’t want it. I want to write a book like Wyrd Sisters by Terry Pratchett was to me, an escape for someone in dire need. I’m not sure I could handle expectations though, wait…is that actually fear of failure? Thanks guys, I think we’ve sussed it! Go us!
Anyway, back to Sympathy <—if you haven’t read it you can click this and the powers of the internet will light the way. It actually began because of a song I used to really like…wait, Ivor rightly told me deconstructing this poem was a bad idea so, mum’s the word! But here’s me stealing the flower from the fool and putting it behind my ear. I needed to tell you these things because obviously your eyes can only read words and not pictures. I also can’t stop typing today.
Anyway, I can’t get over how beautiful the tarot cards are. They were a gift from my boyfriend for my birthday. I’ve spent so much time looking at the detail in the pictures, they’re incredible. I wish I had the talent for art. I’ve tried to draw but I just don’t have that way with a pencil that you see great artists have. I’m also lazy and have no patience to learn. Like with the guitar, and piano, and violin, and everything else I’ve tried and not been a genius composer within 30 minutes and so given up. Wish I’d stuck with the violin though.
Let’s wrap this up for those of you who have made it this far and are at risk of having the phone fall on your face as you fall asleep.
I’d like to highlight two of Ivor’s poems from this week because they were bloody brilliant and had me cheering!
Read this one first: My Dragon
and then this one to calm your dragon fears: My Dragon, The Revival
I’d also like to post pictures of my ferrets because I love them and they make me smile. Seb is looking a little bit under the weather in her pictures and I think she might have been. It was adorable how she got onto my lap. I felt little claws scrambling at my leg as she tried to pull herself up. She makes me heart all warm and the bottle of Chanel always breaks when she’s around and a signature this or that just becomes happiness.
Little scruff bag.
Pandora on the other hand has the ultimate “I didn’t do it” look on her face. I don’t know how many times I said no about stealing the chocolate milk but in times like this she doesn’t understand human she only speaks ferret.
Thanks for reading and I hope you’re all well! I’m going to lose myself to YouTube and Disney songs now and sing A Whole New World to my cat. Oh, yeah, I have one of those.
Scrap that. It’s just started to pour down with rain. I’m grabbing my wellies and an umbrella. Vuhuu!
Arbie Krae 