Apr. 3rd, 2012

whatawaytoburn: ([Writing]  At work)
So, I went on Etsy and found myself a writing candle. What this basically means is that it will be a candle that I burn only while writing. I don't know if it will work or not but I thought it was worth a shot.

(This idea originally brought to you by [personal profile] mortalcity, I just happen to think it's nifty.)

I also have an editing candle that I will start burning once I manage to finish something and need help getting through the editing process but I very much feel that is an editing candle and would not work for writing. I don't know how I can explain it but yes, it is.

Anyway, the writing candle is in the shape of a skull and, once i get it, I will be taking a sharpie to it and start writing all over the thing. I don't know what will be written on it yet but things! Then, once I'm done, I will only burn it when I am trying to write.

I wrote something that I put on Tumblr earlier that I am trying to figure out if I want to post here. I feel like the fact that I want to post it means I should and even though I follow a very different crowd of people on here, I should not let myself be censored by my own awkwardness, especially because everyone who's around here knows me, knows who I am and how I identify.

I don't know. *shiftshift* I'm just an awkward cat.

I think there are other things I mean to say I just have no ide3a what they are. I should be reading more, I should be writing more, I should be using the word 'should' less and I can't sleep. That is the summation of my life and no one was surprised.
whatawaytoburn: ([Words] Hell's neighbors)
I have been giving this thought, going over and over it in my mind.

Who am I?

It’s a hard thing to say, hard to determine because who I am is ever changing. I am turning into something new with each experience I go through, which each word I read, with each breath I take.

I know I am a cat, I know I am a firebird. I know I’ve got a candlelit heart and a house for a soul.

I know I am a monster.

And I know you might look at me strangely, say “Why a monster? Why something that seems so dark when you glow?”

But I am, I am a monster. I am a creature of the darker places, I am something that lives to make you question. Sometimes that means scaring you. Sometimes that means making you open your eyes a little wider in surprise.

Sometimes that means drawing blood, be it mine or yours.

I a not scared of fire and I a not scared of blood, I’m not scared of knives and I’m not scared of the dark. These are not the things that make me a monster but they help.

What makes me a monster? What makes me identify with all the dark, strange, peculiar things in the wo9rld?

I don’t know, not really.

I think this is supposed to be more insightful, more useful for those of you who question but I think that maybe, it doesn’t need to be. Maybe it’s not meant to be insightful.

I told you, I identify with the dark and maybe that’s enough. Not to say there aren’t monsters of the light but my breed? We live in shadows, we curl up in flames and watch you with wide unblinking eyes. We spin and leave bloody paw prints against the walls.

I don’t know, don’t know where I am going with this. I think there’s an article to be written here, something about the monster in all of us but I don’t have the brain for it right now, not really. I might later, might write up about the monsters in our lives and what it means to embrace the monster with9in yourself.

Maybe.

But I thought I would chime in, say that yes, I am one too, that I am so many things and a monster is one of them.

So to all of ty9ou, you monsters, you creatures of the light and dark and twilight time. You clawed creatures, you with the glowing eyes, you with the dark hearts, I urge you to stand up, to spin. To sing. To announce yourselves.

Let there be a movement, a shaking of the earth, a rumbling in your chest. Announce who you are, embrace it.

Sing out your songs, or scream them, or let them roar from your throats.

Rise up, rise up my monstrous friends. Rise up singing, screaming, dancing, crying, just rise, just let yourself be known.

Because it’s time to stop hiding, it’s time to start living openly and proudly. It’s time to step into the light, bare your teeth and go boldly out into the world as your strange, beautiful, horrifying, brilliant selves.
whatawaytoburn: ([Words] Congregation in my head)
So, [personal profile] dingsi made a an interesting post about OCs. Go over there and vote if this applies to you and, if you're not interested, be like me and poke at the results. it's terribly interesting.

Anyway, it got me thinking. There are those of us who identify as multiple, those of us who don't quite know what to identify as, those of us who simply identify as writers and I'm sure there are other things as well.

The point here is that we interact with our various characters in a way that most other people don'[. We talk to them, they talk back. We argue, get influenced, chat, get comfort, and a number of other things. Even if you only marginally identify with what I and [personal profile] dingsi have been talking about, this is for you.

Sometimes you want people to talk to about these things, you want to be able to exchange stories, bitch about what the kids are making you do, talk about anything you want but you don't have a safe space to do it in.

This is what this post is for. Anon is on and I ask that, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't bloody say it. If yo9u're not comfortable saying things under your journal or even anon and still want to take part, PM me and we can talk privately.

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Screaming loud enough to turn back the wind.

August 2012

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