Friday, 31 October 2014

Halloween Night answers

I have it!
Ten minutes quiet solitude in the backyard, not on my wall which has this year been destroyed but on a new stone that is to become home to my writers troubles, there is near the bottom of the garden a few stone steps that are well hidden by a bush when one is sat down on the step concealed from the house, almost not there at all if you don't move which is how I like it. Under our largest tree which offers a good deal of coverage from the elements. I am surprised actually that I never thought to take up this spot as my own before now.

Sat in the not yet darkness of Halloween night, with my black cat 'Dust' curling himself artfully around my leg-most appropriate I thought, I have reached an answer to my new book series. It only took ten minutes. A few rattling leaves, one which fell from a branch above and landed in my hair which was inspiring in itself, unusually warm, wonderfully warm with a cool breeze. For a moment I trailed from one thought to another of: Why wasn't it this warm at that damn party I gave, it's been two Halloweens since then and both have mocked the year I tried to throw a party. I decided quickly I did not want to think too long about that night or that time of life at all really and threw myself back into the moment of here and now. The leaves on the steps around me, gorgeously golden, I've always entertained thoughts of magical fairies invisible to our eyes touching every one and painting the trees those colours. Tinkerbell was always a favourite of mine. So there it is...Autumn, magic, seasons. More than one. A season for each girl, and when everything goes to pot they are the chosen four. That's how they're connected. There's where the link lies.

Excellent. I have my answer. I always get my answer out here. I stand up lifting the cat with me in one arm and brushing off the dust from my jeans with the other and I carry the cat into the house with me feeling much happier than when I walked out.

Things will turn out alright in the end. Because I still have ideas, and answers and that means I'm fine.

Halloween Poem

So it's Halloween again
Can only mean one thing
Little buggers at your door
and Christmas will soon begin
Scary movies on ITV
ghosts rattling within
Teens in graveyards drinking WKD
While Asda has half price on Mr Kipling!
So wrap up warm, lock your door.
Don't mix the dead with the living.

Wednesday, 29 October 2014

Are we more than we are? Thoughts about God.

It's at times like this that I feel that God is testing me, testing my strengths and watching how I cope with trials of life. Then I remind myself that I am not inclined to believe in God. I like the idea of the Lord but I am much more a Darwinist than a creationist. Then I think, it's hard not to believe in God in the moments, hours and weeks when you doubt yourself and your situation because suddenly you find that the faith you are losing in everything around yourself has to go somewhere. It cannot just linger around like a ghost, so it aims for that mythical Once Upon a Childhood when you used to kneel on your bed and pray to a brass cross holding Jesus Christ. -Perhaps this doesn't relate to anyone else but this is me. (Sometimes, like now, for an inexplicable reason I wish I hadn't sold that cross at the car-boot sale, telling my mother I had 'outgrown' it.)

I am not a worthy subject of any faith, I don't claim to be anything other than 'undecided' but in my own head, at times of personal strife, I still think about God, and right now I am wondering: Am I simply looking for someone to blame for the trials I am enduring, looking for a reason as to why I am in this situation, just not accepting that bad luck happens for no damn reason?
OR am I truly more a believer than I like to admit and a voice inside me, either the voice of God or my own soul which is somehow connected to a bigger picture, is reminding me to stay strong because this is not for nothing. It is for a bigger purpose.

That's what I'm sure we all wonder at some point isn't it?
Are we more than we are?
Were we ever more than we are? Can we just not remember? Or have we not realised yet?

Common Cold poem

For years my sworn enemy, The Common Cold and I have been waging a terrible war with each other each year when the leaves turn golden and the wind becomes chilly. Usually I keep myself well guarded and put up a damn good defence but this year the bastard has taken me off guard.

So you've conquered me again have you?
crept up upon me in the night
I never saw you coming
Couldn't put up a fight.
Usually such a good defence
each year when the leaves turn brown
but suddenly you've taken me off guard
run me down into the ground
Headache and runny nose
you laugh at my blotchy face
red nosed and germ infested
you jeer at my disgrace
so early in the year, before the leaves are properly gold
You Bastard how you've overrun me.
Damn you...The Common Cold.

Monday, 27 October 2014

Song draft: Who You Are

'Who You Are' or 'Bright Light'
Song draft.
I'm not much of a song writer and god help me I can't hold a note, but I gave this a go.
I can see it being made right by Georgia Florida Line.

When you're kicked down in the dirt
and they kick you again for good measure
don't stay down on the ground
though I know it hurts
take another strike,
because at least then when you die
you'll know what it is to feel alive

You know you're a light
a bright light inside
Something that feels right
You've come so far
but one day soon, everyone's gonna know who you are
(who you are, who you are)

The days gonna come when you have to fight
might as well be today
so stand up this time
when they kick you down
when they hurt your pride
remember you're a bright light
stand yourself up this time

[chorus x1]

Having a bit of a rant

Getting awfully fed up of checking my emails twice, three times...eight times daily and seeing the same blank screen staring back at me like the Magic Mirror declaring silently "You are clearly not the fairest of them all"
I do not want to face Christmas which is crawling out from under the bed like an old sock I'd rather throw away than consider wearing again. -Check out the similes I'm busting out here, I guess the more downtrodden you feel in the real world the more the creative energy in the land of imagination flows.
Days like today I wonder if I didn't have the imagination I am gifted with and the urge to write would I go half mad, then I admit that I pretty much am half mad as I feel more inclined to speak through ink to a piece of paper than to strike up a conversation with most people in the world around me. Then I think I'm not mad, the people around me with noses stuck in glass screens but boasting that they have brilliant lives are mad. I canter off point....if I didn't have this desperation inside to write, days like today would eat me alive.

When someone makes you feel pointless, it's crucial in order to keep your very core alive that you take those moments, chew them up and spit them out before telling yourself what you are worth. It's the people that can't remember, or can't see who they are that end up falling into the pit of darkness made up of the words of others. I say it so often to myself I guess because I rarely, if ever hear anyone else say it...I have a bright light inside of me, and I know I am meant for a greater existence.
 I know everyone carries psychological hang-ups from childhood and school but so often I feel myself slipping back into that dirty damp place full of self esteem issues and I can see that young girl, confidence worn down by everyone even my closest friends who I am delighted to say don't feature in my life anymore, when the only thing that made me feel good was to sit alone and write. As I have always done. As I do now. I have to force myself to keep from tumbling over the edge of that line, to feeling like I am still that girl. I. Am. Not.

I am a bright light. I know who I am.

Friday, 24 October 2014

Urghh. Arthritis.

With still no news on a steady job I have started writing my Fairytale Series. The least I can do in the current situation is put more faith and dedication into my books and hope for the best. I've got a hot water bottle pressed behind me cushioning my aching back where Arthritis is threatening to curl up in the little joints of my spine and stay there. I'm dosed up on tablets trying to bring swelling down and so far the pain relief has not kicked in, so the hot water bottle is at work slowly reducing the pain. if I don't move too much it's not so bad. I can use my fingers to type at least, but if this pain doesn't ease up by tonight my plans to do some painting will be put on hold.