Walk

Hush now, little one, please stop crying
You can't force your chubby toddler legs
To imitate the long strides of a man.
Take one small step at a time.
It'll be easier, you'll see.
Everything's so much easier of you take it slowly.
Just take it slowly and patiently.

Yes, stand up, my child.
Steady now, be careful not to fall.
Daddy's here to catch you when you do.

That's it, little one. Carefully...
Very good!

Oh, if you can only see the brilliance
Of your eyes so similar to mine,
And hear how contagious your cherub's laugh is--
A breathing, pulsing proof of happiness.

You made this daddy proud.

Writing blues and other nonsense that show what a clumsy writer I am

If there's one thing in my creative writing class that really imprinted itself on my mind, it's confronting the blank page. My creative writing professor calls it El Diablo Blanco. Pretty neat, huh? When I first heard it, I thought it was the alias of some wrestler or rapper or someone cool and badarse. Today, however, it just fills me with a certain kind of dread.

The blank page.

When I am writing on my journal and I am faced with a blank page (fact: I always carry a writing journal with me 'cause I'm a rebel like that), almost always my immediate thought balloon is: "How in hell do I fill this thing? Can I even fill this?" Then I'd start tapping my pen on my journal or on my lap or on any surface I can tap my pen on. Or if I'm online and I have a mind to make a new blog entry (to sort of keep my blog fresh, you know), I'd sit looking at the blank screen and blinking in time with the text cursor.

And for quite some time I just sit there, staring into the white abyss that is the blank page/screen, reaching into the depths of my mind for something to write about, something to share, something to express. Can I? Can I?

After about ten minutes have passed and I haven't written or typed a single word, and already quite possibly lost the battle to El Diablo Blanco, I'd go crazy and run around like a bloodthirsty caveman while screaming "POTATOES!"

Well, I'm only horsing about the caveman and potatoes thing, but I really do go crazy sometimes.

In a short yet long span of ten minutes, the blank page seems to come alive and pester me with an endless "Can you? Can you? Can you?" It's dementia in its purest form, I'm telling you. Imagine standing in the middle of a football field surrounded by an army of yellow little minions (y'know, from Despicable Me). And then imagine those minions repeatedly yelling "Can you? Can you?" at you in their distorted, nasal voices. Yep. That's how it feels.

But by some obscure, miraculous reason, I eventually get around to filling the page and defeating the El Diablo Blanco. Like the Can I? Can I? football field-minion montage, there's always this familiar ting! of a light bulb everytime my mind finally decides to open up and face the El Diablo Blanco (at times, even accompanied by the sound of a chainsaw brought to life). After that, ideas pool in. I just find myself scribbling or typing furiously on my journal or on my laptop. The quiet swish of the pen and the gentle tic, tic, tic of the keyboard that means I've input yet another letter in the computer are two of the most wonderful sounds that I love hearing.

Oh, and make no mistake. When I say "eventually", it doesn't necessarily mean that after I close my journal then walk around a bit, then I open my journal again, I'd already start writing. My mind gets a little stubborn sometimes; it could even take days or weeks (but not months, thank heavens for that) before I get the nerve to write. Most of the time, what I write even ends up becoming nonsense or headed for the trash. Headed for the trash how? It's like if you and I are in a conversation, I'm all "Oh, did you see how nice the weather this morning was? I left the cage of my rabbit open so he escaped, then I went to school wearing my old chucks." Things like that.

And so it dawned on me that this is another one of those headed for the trash entries.

What was the term my professor used? Deus ex machina. Started with blank pages, went to football fields and minions, swerved to light bulbs and chainsaws, ended with rabbits and old chucks. Yes, I'm already banging my head on my desk for wasting your time just to read this trash. Maybe I'll jump off a cliff next. (Aww, thank you, Marie!) You're welcome.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say here is that writing is like love-- kidding. Writing is not as easy as it sounds. "Writing? Tedious work? Dude, those are not the same thing." Well, YES THEY ARE YOU ADSFHJHJLKJH. Unless you're a god.

Since this entry is already sounding too trashy and I sure as hell wouldn't edit it because I'm one lazy bastard, and since I already mentioned a while ago that I started with blank pages and ended with rabbits and old chucks, then I'm going to end this entry with rabbits and old chucks.

RABBITS.

OLD CHUCKS.

My introduction was supposed to be this

I tried posting this as my "About Me" in Blogger, but no, they didn't accept it. 'Said that my introduction must only be 1200 characters. Wordpress was better Well, then fine. But just so you know, this was supposed to be my introduction. It's unnecessary, I daresay, but at least posting this here will save it from rotting on my laptop.

So here goes.

Hello! My name is Nicole, but here I am Marie Weatherley, or just Marie. Introductions ordinarily bore me, so if you don't mind, I'll spare you the drabness and try to maintain a certain level of wittiness along the way. ;)

I like cats and dogs, but I'm more of a dog person. Dogs are amusing and funny and smart. Cats are cute but they're, well, lazy.

Most of my time is spent on browsing Facebook, deviantArt, 9gag and YouTube, playing the guitar, poorly writing short stories, eating and sleeping. Oh, and editing pictures. I'm an amateur digital artist specialising in photo manipulation.

I love chocolates, marshmallows, watermelons and strawberries. A day is never complete if I don't eat any of these.

I have a sort of eclectic taste in music. I love listening to different kinds of music genres because 1) I was born into a family of music enthusiasts, 2) discovering old and new music stuff on the internet has been a hobby of mine for quite some time, and 3) I can't stick to only two or three music genres for the love of god.

My life's ambition is to build a library of one million books. I love reading. I've loved reading even before I loved music. And if I have eclectic taste in music, I have an even more eclectic taste in books.

If given the chance, I'd like to phone William Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Frederick Chopin, and Claude Debussy.

I once exchanged two pesos for twenty pesos (mehehe). How? I will tell you sometime.

I like writing backwards, or what I call "mirror-writing" because 1) It's a great mind exercise, 2) Leonardo da Vinci used to do it, and 3) it's funny looking at other people trying to read what I'm writing.

I drink tea on a saucer instead of in a mug or in a teacup.

The statement directly above this is a lie.

As I am writing this long introduction of myself, I am listening to our neighbour belting out "Man in the Mirror" in a voice that badly needs auto tune.

I can be shy and loud at the same time. It's a bipolar thing. And yes, I am bipolar.

This may sound cheesy, but I dream of world peace and unity between all nations.

Aaand that's about it. Man, was that a long introduction. If you've read this far, then I give you my greatest thanks. :)