Poof! Here i am.
After a long time of not visiting Livejournal, let alone writing an update, i have decided to so. I was laying in bed around 2pm, reading my book, when a random thought rudely interjected itself into my head. However rude the interjecting was, the thought itself i was quite happy to recieve. It was of a memory of a piece of writing i read anywhere between 1 and 3 years ago.
I don't know if any of you have heard of Everything2.com, unless of course you're Craig Mustard, as he is the one who refferred me to said site. At the time, now that i think about it, it was (i think) July of 2004, and i was browsing this website quite frequently. It has writing on it. From prose and poetry, to encyclopedic entries and factual events, to the short and/or fictional story. It is (or was) truly an awesome site.
Anyways, the piece that i was looking for was about Dancing. I have a 'diary' that i write things down in. I have 2 actually. I have a 'junk' diary, where i write down any random shit that would go under the title of 'unimportant', and then i have my 'Sciryl', which basically contains any piece of writing that i write that actually holds meaning. Writing in the latter e-diary is what inspired me to pay a visit to livejournal.com, as i have been requested to do so by those dear to me.
I wrote the following:
-----
I read a piece of art some while ago. It was a long while, and a shame for that, as my memory is not able to aid me as much as is needed in this instance. It is a greater shame that i did not save this piece of art to my hard drive, or to disk, or write it down on paper at the first chance i had, for it was a touching piece of beauty that comes so unfortunately seldom, but so fortunate that it comes at all. I do not know the person who wrote it, but for its words i do not need to know them. It was about dancing. In a short story no more than a few paragraphs long it iterated in a way that words seldom can how free and beautiful it is to dance. It was of a girl, and a boy, in a unmentionable bookstore browsing for an unmentionable book, when a song starts to play in the background. The girl loves this song; full of memories and a beat meant for dancing. She takes the boys hands in hers and declares to him that they should dance. He is reluctant. They are in a bookstore, and there are people watching, and speaks such.
"Here? Now?".
"Yes!" she answers. "If not here, where? If not now, when?". Oh i wish i could remember more clearly how the story went. "Dance with me!".
"But there are people watching!".
"So? When they smile its because they enjoy to watch. When they laugh, its not at us, but with the envy they feel for the freedom we have to let ourselves go and display to the world our love to dance!".
That is not exactly how the story went, and is important as some things are in their need to be exact. I do not remember how the story ends, nor will i attempt to finish it. I wish it was here before me. I wish that this did not have to be written to retain what little memory i have of it.
-----
I do not have guidelines or rules for msyelf when writing, but i typically do not violate 2 standards i seem to hold to myself. 1) Never make changes to finished writing. 2) Never remove the original copy from the book it was orginally written in. (the reason for the copy/paste).
Usually when i open 'Sciryl', i read a few of the entries that i have most recently written. One seemed to stand out to me, and i wish to share, for what reason i'm not really sure:
--
We all inevitbaly dive into the sea of infinite oblivion.
It is my sincere hope that we all do this with a grin on our face.
And it is my wish that we all dive in head first.
But i ask, that however one may dive, that he does it with his eyes open,
otherwise it was all for nothing.
--
I do not know exactly what i was feeling at the time, but i think it was a few months ago when i was thinking about death. I had a great fear of death last year, and it's turned into something truly sumblime and comforting since that time. So i think i had either watched something on TV or read something on a book or heard something from some half-wit who shouldnt be talking, and it inspired me to write, as these things sometimes do. So yeah, take from it what you will, i like it, and thought i'd share.
Thats all you're getting out of me today.
Hmph.
P.S. Karen, you are a beautiful person, inside and out. I can't wait to talk to you again soon.
I don't know if any of you have heard of Everything2.com, unless of course you're Craig Mustard, as he is the one who refferred me to said site. At the time, now that i think about it, it was (i think) July of 2004, and i was browsing this website quite frequently. It has writing on it. From prose and poetry, to encyclopedic entries and factual events, to the short and/or fictional story. It is (or was) truly an awesome site.
Anyways, the piece that i was looking for was about Dancing. I have a 'diary' that i write things down in. I have 2 actually. I have a 'junk' diary, where i write down any random shit that would go under the title of 'unimportant', and then i have my 'Sciryl', which basically contains any piece of writing that i write that actually holds meaning. Writing in the latter e-diary is what inspired me to pay a visit to livejournal.com, as i have been requested to do so by those dear to me.
I wrote the following:
-----
I read a piece of art some while ago. It was a long while, and a shame for that, as my memory is not able to aid me as much as is needed in this instance. It is a greater shame that i did not save this piece of art to my hard drive, or to disk, or write it down on paper at the first chance i had, for it was a touching piece of beauty that comes so unfortunately seldom, but so fortunate that it comes at all. I do not know the person who wrote it, but for its words i do not need to know them. It was about dancing. In a short story no more than a few paragraphs long it iterated in a way that words seldom can how free and beautiful it is to dance. It was of a girl, and a boy, in a unmentionable bookstore browsing for an unmentionable book, when a song starts to play in the background. The girl loves this song; full of memories and a beat meant for dancing. She takes the boys hands in hers and declares to him that they should dance. He is reluctant. They are in a bookstore, and there are people watching, and speaks such.
"Here? Now?".
"Yes!" she answers. "If not here, where? If not now, when?". Oh i wish i could remember more clearly how the story went. "Dance with me!".
"But there are people watching!".
"So? When they smile its because they enjoy to watch. When they laugh, its not at us, but with the envy they feel for the freedom we have to let ourselves go and display to the world our love to dance!".
That is not exactly how the story went, and is important as some things are in their need to be exact. I do not remember how the story ends, nor will i attempt to finish it. I wish it was here before me. I wish that this did not have to be written to retain what little memory i have of it.
-----
I do not have guidelines or rules for msyelf when writing, but i typically do not violate 2 standards i seem to hold to myself. 1) Never make changes to finished writing. 2) Never remove the original copy from the book it was orginally written in. (the reason for the copy/paste).
Usually when i open 'Sciryl', i read a few of the entries that i have most recently written. One seemed to stand out to me, and i wish to share, for what reason i'm not really sure:
--
We all inevitbaly dive into the sea of infinite oblivion.
It is my sincere hope that we all do this with a grin on our face.
And it is my wish that we all dive in head first.
But i ask, that however one may dive, that he does it with his eyes open,
otherwise it was all for nothing.
--
I do not know exactly what i was feeling at the time, but i think it was a few months ago when i was thinking about death. I had a great fear of death last year, and it's turned into something truly sumblime and comforting since that time. So i think i had either watched something on TV or read something on a book or heard something from some half-wit who shouldnt be talking, and it inspired me to write, as these things sometimes do. So yeah, take from it what you will, i like it, and thought i'd share.
Thats all you're getting out of me today.
Hmph.
P.S. Karen, you are a beautiful person, inside and out. I can't wait to talk to you again soon.