Storytelling

In my writing classes, both intro to short story and creative non-fiction, I'm being taught that no matter what kind of story you're telling it always has a few simple things. Starting with the basic construct: a beginning, middle, and end, and then delving into different kinds of plots you can have, character development, conflict, etc.

But, I disagree. Stories are an odd thing because they always have a beginning and a middle, but they never really end. A story is only a sample of a larger story that is a sample of a larger story. Yes, there will be characters and conflict, but the plot is often of a grander scheme than we are allowed to see. Even the authors can't know what happens to the characters when they stop writing about them.

Most would say oh, they're just characters. Really, they're whoever you want them to be. Characters are derived from the people you've heard about on the news, the people you see on a daily basis, the people you love, the people you hate, the people who are too uninteresting to feel anything towards other than indifference. Real people.

And those people's lives continue whether you continue to develop their personalities and situations on paper or not.

And my friends' lives continue whether we still talk or not.
They live on, and my life and what I write about or care about is of no consequence to them.
I'm selfish because I want them to care and they're selfish because they don't.
There's not really any escaping it until my presence seems to burden them, and hardly ever hanging out turns into never hanging out, and I keep my secrets to myself and I no longer know any of theirs, and words of encouragement turn into constant negativity acting as "honesty", and pretty soon we just stop talking altogether.

My friend Scott told me that we were BFNFT's, and when I asked what it meant, he said "Best Friends Not Forever Though."

It's one of the few things that's ever made perfect sense to me.

:)

For the first time in a long time, I'm completely happy.

And it's not just because derby is going great.

And it's not just because school is going great.

And it's not just because my new (ish) relationship is going great.

And it's not just because working at dairy queen is actually an ok job.

It's because life is beautiful.

I've spent so much time worried about things I shouldn't have given a second thought.

Everything will be ok.

I know that now.

Yeah, life sucks sometimes. But everything works out for the better in the end.

Right now I'm really focused on finding the beauty in everyday life.

You'd be surprised how much there is.

Under Construction

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about where I went wrong.
Nothing seems to work out for me, and when it doesn't, I get really disappointed and down on myself.
Well, I'm tired of it.
I'm tired of never feeling good enough.
So I've decided to change a few things.
Sure, I've always believed in God, and I spent most of my life in church. But it's been a long time since I've had an actual relationship with Him, and I'm ready to get that back. I'm giving up a lot of things I feel like are holding me back. Basically, I'm just ready to be a better person.
A few days ago I decided I'm going to eat healthier, exercise more, and hopefully lose 10 pounds. Tonight I dyed my hair. The next step is to reconstruct my insides to match the way I want to look on the outside. I want to look and feel healthier and happier, and hopefully in time God will bless me with a job and a boyfriend who also has a strong relationship with Him. I'm sick of wasting my time on loser guys who have no goals for their life and waste their life away partying and slacking. I'm ready for a real man. But I'm also sick of chasing after guys, so I'm done. Of course I'm not going to stop noticing when a cute boy is within close proximity, but if he wants to talk to me then he'll find a way to talk to me. And if he's worth my time, maybe I'll give it a shot. I'm ready for a new love, but before I can find love with someone else I need to focus on my love with God. First God, then school, then derby, then maybe someday-a relationship with a guy. I still have a lot of trust issues and a lot of healing to go through, but I have a feeling things will be better from now on.
I'm still going to be me, just a newer version. One I will be proud of.

Movies like Closer are way too realistic.

I can’t get this rhythm out of my head, it goes something like
“lies, lies, lies, I feel like lies, I felt like lying, I lied, you lied, lies, lies, lies…”
And it might trail off into an ending with gusto, infused with romance, but despite the glamour lies present, it’s all a sham. Like washed up porn stars and late night television. Meant to entertain, but never satisfies. Satisfied. Where do I want to be? Present tense or past tense? If I could go back in time, I would go back to the moment I was born, as myself. I would walk into the room and everyone would be like “Who are you?” And I would say “I am myself 19 years from now, could we have a moment alone?” They would then proceed to say “No!” And I would be pushed out of the room, but on the way out I would yell something to myself, something epic or cliché. Maybe both.
No, I would tell myself to never believe a word you say, and then I could stay with you forever because whenever I find out that the words you said and the things you kept from me were all lies, it wouldn’t hurt or bother me at all. I could say “oh, ok.” And you would say “I’m sorry,” since that’s what you do best, and then we would kiss and like a little kid my boo-boos would disappear, with just that, a kiss. Wouldn’t life be grand if I could time travel?

You keep me awake at night with your smile while a voice scrapes away the wallpaper on my insides that says “You should have let him go.”

(I feel guilty for even writing this. I wish I didn’t. Didn‘t feel guilty or didn‘t write, you pick.)

I know nothing of your taste.

I went home to unwind.
The stress of knowing I have to work 2 jobs this summer,
knowing I am taking 20 credit hours next semester,
hoping for the chance to work on the school magazine,
wondering when I'll have free time for friends,
for me.
It became the pinched nerve in my spine that I felt every time I straightened my back.
So I went back to a place of comfort with welcoming hugs, food, love, music.

I couldn't wear my monroe, couldn't wear a nose ring, couldn't show my tattoo (not that it ever really shows anyway).
I didn't care. Physical discomfort was bearable for a day.

I began to loosen up,
My mom got home, tired, with a kitchen full of dirty dishes.
I began to fill the dishwasher and handwash the rest that wouldn't fit,
And Michael started to play piano.
I don't know the name of the song, I don't think it matters.
He played the chords beautifully, and I worked to the rhythm, I let my shoulders down.
I wished it wouldn't stop.
The harmonious chords were interrupted by screaming discord,
Stubborn children and relationship tension,
(Which is why couples shouldn't live together unless they're married),
The playing stopped.
My thoughts went to Faulkner, Alan Moore, personal ads, Howl, laundry, ridiculous art exercises, my week streaming through my thoughts
unevenly and somewhat strategically placed
amongst dirty dishes


dirty lives.

Easter is coming up. My first Easter on my own.
I haven't been to church since school started, except for when I've been home,
And I don't want to be one of those people that only attends church for holidays.
I figure I'll read the story from the Bible, ask the Lord for forgiveness
it might take awhile.

Sometimes I think about God. About what He thinks about me. About my life.
If I'm doing the right things, if I have the right major,
if it's going to matter.
Or if I'm living through this blur for a moment of clarification to be found in death sooner than I think.
I wonder if I'll die or if I'll live through Armageddon.
I wonder what side I'll end up on.
It's hard to tell these days.
How much forgiveness am I allowed?
I know it's infinite...
I don't feel like that.

Dad walks in, says he has music for my song.
He plays my words back to me, a bit more upbeat than first imagined, not bad though.
Maybe he can slow it down some, but the melody is nice....
My words echo back to me.
"So I'm alone, I'm alone..."
They sound so right with the acoustic chords he strums,
He strums fast, like he's driving his mustang,
I can tell he feels proud. I feel proud for him.

He used to play the kitty kat song...there were three of us then.
Basically two.

Now, I see myself as the girl who played to the kittykat song as Sarah Ruth..
When I went home it took her a few minutes to recognize me,
I felt obsolete.
I was worried she would forget me, and she almost did.
I almost forgot myself.

Mom walks in, helps me wash dishes, I tell her my best friend is pregnant.
I tell her about my new room mate.
I try not to cry when she asks why I came home, and I whisper "stress."

Was it the stress?
Or was it because I don't feel like I belong anywhere?

I think it's just hormones.
Damn being a girl.

well

.

Excess

Lately my life has become one of excess.
I have too much time on my hands so I watch too much TV and eat too much food.
I also go to too many web sites and clearly have too much free time on my hands.
All of this a result of too much Spring break with too little cash to go somewhere too cool.
Not that I mind where I am, it's nice to relax, but I feel like I've been too much of a couch potato.
Now I'm getting too sick.
Well, not really-but I added the too for dramatic emphasis.

I have too much of this that is consuming that...
that which inspires me,
which motivates me,
which guides me.

Also, I've realized I'm a huge hypocrite.
Yes, it made me sad for about 5 minutes.
But it's too lazy of me to complain and then not change anything.
And I know I won't change.
At least not right away.
Change requires effort, and...something else that I'm too tired to think of right now.
But if you're ever feeling too down,
check out what I've discovered with too much time (and the help of Stephanie's brother):

fmylife.com

anddd