Thursday, July 22, 2010.
Just like the day I met you, you go over while I go under -- this cancerous sky of ours. How is it you see anything so far below your crown and throne? My sweet Queen of Martyrdom, I'll climb onto your cross. For you to swipe and throw me away. Would that you pick me back up but I choose to stay. You're a storm, a curse -- a bloodless heart -- haunting me from the grave. Clouds and haze and endless cries. You feel nothing at all. Days and nights and years of lies. You're the one that deserves to crawl.
Wednesday, July 14th, 2010.
It's all about perspective. Sometimes I'm looking at the stars from my belly, slithering in the trees -- my dark and cold and hollow. Other times I might be standing or brought to my knees, in reverence to your eyes, the unholy grace as you spread your blackened wings. These things I do because I always have. These things you knew because you always have. The moon glows above my cries, as a rain spills and washes away our ties. You found my remains when I was nothing, my goddess of the night. Tomorrow is forever and yesterday is gone. I wish I could see myself through you. I'm never anything.
Tuesday July 6th, 2010.
I can't seem to get it right. I've been trying all these thirty years and I don't feel any closer to the answer. I wonder if I've fallen victim to a self-fulfilling prophecy cast upon myself when I was a teenager. I try my best not to look behind me, to say the past doesn't matter all that much. I feel like I'm lying to myself, a summer daze or a winter's rain. Every day is a new opportunity to better yourself, to fix what you've done wrong in the days left behind, but I seem to see it as a chance to claw my way deeper into the dark soils of nowhere. And I wonder if this is where I wanted to be all along. She's seen and had just about enough of me, my failings and my should have beens. I couldn't expect such an angel to stay with me forever. Forever is nothing but a fool's dream, the rants of madmen. If I could get just one more chance, well... I say it would be different. But what if it's all the fucking same?
Tuesday, June 22nd, 2010.
Reading and writing: Work continues on my novel. I feel like it might be shit, like it's not coming out the way I envisioned it, but I'm going to do what all writers do and see it through to the end and reserve judgment when I see the entire picture. This is the first novel I'm actually writing with publication in mind so wish me luck. I'm looking to have a first draft finished by the end of summer. I seem to be on track for that.
So, I've just finished reading the massive summer behemoth of a novel "The Passage" by Justin Cronin, which weighs in at around 770 pages. This book had more summer hype surrounding it than the new Twilight movie (which I am thankful for) so I was a little worried that when I actually sat down to read it that it was going to be a steamer and ultimately disappoint me like everything else that is (over)hyped in the media. Turns out this is a rare case where the art actually meets, and sometimes, exceeds its expectations.
This, ladies and gentleman, is how a vampire novel should read. Stephanie Meyer eat your heart out. Now, before I go any further I did notice some similarities, intended to poke fun at Ms. Meyer, perhaps? No, I'm sure Justin Cronin has more class than that; it's just wishful thinking on my part. The vampires or virals (or smokes or jumps) in this novel behave differently than we've seen in recent vampire smut. They glow -- but not in the sunlight; they burn to a charred shell -- with a greenish-blue luminescence due to their viral origins and there is a girl in the book with the word "Bella" in her name, in this case Amy Bellafonte, which serves as one of the novel's chief protagonists and heroes. That is where any likenesses end, thankfully.
I'm going to completely avoid any and all spoilers and spare you a synopsis. If you're interested in the book or vampires at all, I'm going to assume you've already heard and read them all. I will just say this: buy the book. Now. It's a rare breed of book that sucks you in almost immediately, keeps you enthralled and excited. And when you find yourself with only a few pages left to read, you will find yourself saddened at the fact that they are dwindling. You'll want to stay with all of these great characters forever. Unfortunately, you'll have to wait for the next installment. I, for one, am salivating. I can't think of a more perfect book to read this summer.
There's something here for every kind of reader, and if you enjoy reading -- this novel is for you. It's quite scary and unsettling, it's sweet and sad, it's completely addictive and just short of storybook nirvana. The characters are deep and more than just cardboard cutouts of stereotypes, so much more. You're going to find yourself involved and loving every line of dialogue.
Cheers for showing the world what real vampire stories can do, Mr. Cronin. You've crafted something special. Keep that momentum strong.
Saturday, June 19th, 2010.
She dies at the end. Cue the sad, swelling symphony of notes. I am the dissonance in your mind. She is the who and what you will never be. This is how it's been, how it was always meant to be.
Thursday, May 13th, 2010.
The days pass by in a blurry haze for most of us. We are the expressway. Double yellows and white dotted, your exit is coming soon. Roll the windows down once in a while and enjoy the view, the wind having its way with your hair. Cry, laugh, fuck and sleep -- you can't see me anymore. Sadness comes and goes like a summer storm. But if you're windows are closed and the music is loud and absorbing, you'll never really feel what's meant to shape you into a human. We pretend we're the only ones that matter. There's a whole world more. Smile, shake hands, joke and befriend -- you can't be me anymore.
I want to be someone else.
Tuesday, May 11th, 2010.
Things have changed, as they always do. I've always had less than a little faith in people but this is the breaking point. Time means nothing, words mean less and there is no such thing as dedication or love. These are all just things we pretend to know something about. We spew out canned lines that we see and hear on our favorite dramas on TV or our favorite songs sung by people that don't even know themselves well enough to sing about anyone else with even a shred of authority. Yet we listen. We eat that shit up. We tune back in and we talk about it all week until the next episode. We think this is how life is supposed to play out for us. Well, I'm here to say it's not and you all should wake the fuck up. Life is not Dancing with the Stars or American Idol or Grey's Anatomy. Grow up and open your eyes.
I am finished with trusting. Finished with putting myself out there. The world is full of false fathers and cowards. I'll never know if I'm one of them. I don't even trust myself.
