Skip to main content

My old stories

I can't describe how it makes me feel when I look at my old stories. Everything is different-- everything is the same. As I read them, I can remember how I felt when I wrote them-- almost every sitting. I can see their potential-- how I have grown since then. More than anything, I feel my insular world draw around me again. I feel like my characters have gone on living as I have gone on living.

I have plans to put them online within the next year-- slowly. An abandoned garden. It seems appropriate, since they have gone on living unchecked while I abandoned them. I feel if I put them online, that will be a place for them. They will go on living there; they will be real. I believe in their reality more than one might think.

When I wrote "go on" I thought of "My heart will go on" and I remembered I am bidding on a lot of three dresses for Rose. Less than two hours, no competition, but surely someone has a snipe set on this auction. The minimum bid is already a zillion dollars, but her dresses are the most valuable of any. If I lose, I am definitely buying the Grace Kelly set for Dresden. She looks really, really cute in 1960's clothes.

But I don't want to lose. Those are exactly the dresses I want! The pin-striped boarding suit, the green lace tea gown, the yellow deck dress.

Popular posts from this blog

Snow White and the Prince

I dreamed in darkness, cold and alone. Phantasms shifted around me, frightening me, but I was powerless to escape them or even move, as I was sealed in a casket. I thought of the Queen, my Stepmother, and tears dripped from my eyes as I considered the quasi-poignant moments we had once shared, when we might have been considered to be close, when the Queen had nearly been a mother to me, and the face of love had shone radiantly upon me, before eclipsed again by the storms of Venus. I thought of the huntsman, stung to consider that my only friend had been poised to betray me, to kill me, and again in my mind I felt the horror of his shadow, of waiting while he came behind me, knowing there was no escape for me from a death he would inflict. My heart lifted as images of the Prince entered my mind, his grace atop a white-maned horse, always out of my reach, just beyond the words I longed to speak. If only there had been more time for us to fall in love. He might have saved me from those...
more &

Where does it lie

I look out onto the yellow and brown vegetation beneath my window, at the castle-like buildings far away and wonder where do I lie in all of this? There was a time when I was unfettered. This was a time before I entered the working world, before I was independent. My heart was free as a bird when I was in college. I did not know what happiness I experienced in my creativity because I had never known different. In other aspects of my life I knew pain but my stories, sprung up lately from a gothic mist into an immersing Pre-Raphaelite painting, were a richness and the most beautiful thing I had ever known. That the most beautiful thing I knew to exist happened inside of me made me very happy, even though I didn't know it. Now I know the sun is setting, even though I can't see it, because the bank of brown, twisted trees and shrubs is lit gold, like a reflection from a golden chalice. Slowly, slowly it will fade until everything is a homogenous, uncertain gray. This is the nightma...
more &

The day was described as unseasonably warm

The day is so beautiful, but I do not feel beautiful. I feel like a void. The world will not be any more beautiful if I go into the park and enjoy the sunshine. The birds will still sing whether I go or stay, and this person does not seem capable of feeling any kind of happiness. I have been going through old entries, and find the same things I have always found when doing this. I have the same feelings and interests as I always did, I feel the same pressures and struggles as ever. I have been tagging things, but it is a never-ending task. I have nearly 800 posts in this journal alone, to say nothing of paper journals and other notes on the Internet. I thought I would organize my notes because I do not feel capable of imbibing any kind of information or communicating anything of importance. However, I am tired. I did not sleep well last night. It is as though at some point years ago I lost some sleep, and I have been losing it ever since. I have a strange, lost feeling when I thi...
more &