14 January 2012

Seriously, This Time I Mean It.

Apparently she's a real-estate agent in Dreamland,
or at least she was the other night. Pic from here.
We had our last class on Thursday, so now all that’s left is to pack, outprocess, and head to Texas. I should be settling in by the end of the month with my new unit, apartment, and all that jazz. I’m excited, but a little anxious, which I’ve been able to tell by all the random dreams I’ve been having about the move. Last night I dreamt that I was driving to Texas and kept getting lost, and all I wanted to find was a hotel I could stay at for the night before I went apartment shopping. The night before that I dreamt that Aeryn Sun (Claudia Black’s character from Farscape) was my real estate agent, and she was showing me around a huge apartment, all painted white, complete with ten floating microwaves based on “an early Peacekeeper design.”

Really, I don’t know where my subconscious comes up with these things sometimes.

Other than that, I’ve finished writing the dialogue sketch of the final chapter in Aorea: The Spinner’s Journey, which puts me one step closer to actually finishing my first novel, woohoo! Before I write a chapter of my book(s), I always write out the barebones of each conversation that takes place in that chapter, like a screenplay or a script. It’s just character name: what they say. I’ve found it makes the actual writing process when the chapter comes around much simpler, as I’m just fleshing out the bones. It’s a process that works for me. For those of you who also write, what process do you use?

Now I’ll leave you with the lyrics of my latest song, composed during the final day of class, expressing (as usual) my pent-up frustrations. I’ve titled it “Seriously, This Time I Mean It.” Enjoy!

Standing in the rain,
wanting to see your face,
if only to hit you. I want to hurt you,
     to make you feel this way.
You’re really an ass, you know.
A class-A jerk off. No, no, no…
I think I changed my mind.
I’d rather not hit you, I just
     want to leave you behind.
I hate this open sky;
I hate this damn denial.
I can’t wait to get out of this state
     and re-start my life.

Five years from now,
     I will not know your name.
I will not remember why I
wanted you in the first place.
And ten years ahead,
     you won’t even exist
to me. You’ll be just a dream
     that faded before it lived.

Filling up my car
with boxes in the dark,
so I don’t have to see the mess
I’m leaving, not thinking about
     where you are.
I guess I’ll miss my friends,
but hey now, in the end,
the ones I want to see, I’ll see.
As for you? We better
     never meet again.


Before I leave I want you to know
with every mile I put between us,
     I’ll be happier.
And when I arrive to my new desert home,
You won’t cross my mind, not once.
     I’m done. It’s over.


No comments:

Post a Comment