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"Personal note: When I was a little kid my mother told me not to stare into the sun. So once when I was six, I did. At first the brightness was overwhelming, but I had seen that before. I kept looking, forcing myself not to blink, and then the brightness began to dissolve. My pupils shrunk to pinholes and everything came into focus and for a moment I understood. The doctors didn't know if my eyes would ever heal."
-Pi
Yep. And she's even got glasses.
And butch was the wrong word. I meant strong. A woman has to be strong, have the spirit of a fighter.
But I'm bitter and jaded now, given up entirely on romance. I will still perpetuate the romantic myth in my writing though. I write of love so prettily I shall entrap others into the same romantic idealism I've been forever plagued by.
Last edited by Darcy88; 08-29-2012 at 02:02 AM.
Darcy it sounds like you need to go to a titty bar.
Darcy it sounds like you need to go to a titty bar.
Mutatis! Somebody beat you to the punch!
Beware of the man with just one book. -Ovid
The man who doesn't read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them.- Mark Twain
My Blog: Of Delicious Recoil
http://stlukesguild.tumblr.com/
You're in good company there. If Dante and Yeats could play that hand and gain immortality, why not you?
When it comes to "the love interest" people tend to re-write the same woman into every story (unless, like Hemingway, they trade in women every few years) - just look at Fitzgerald.
I wrote a poem on a leaf and it blew away...
__________________
"Personal note: When I was a little kid my mother told me not to stare into the sun. So once when I was six, I did. At first the brightness was overwhelming, but I had seen that before. I kept looking, forcing myself not to blink, and then the brightness began to dissolve. My pupils shrunk to pinholes and everything came into focus and for a moment I understood. The doctors didn't know if my eyes would ever heal."
-Pi
__________________
"Personal note: When I was a little kid my mother told me not to stare into the sun. So once when I was six, I did. At first the brightness was overwhelming, but I had seen that before. I kept looking, forcing myself not to blink, and then the brightness began to dissolve. My pupils shrunk to pinholes and everything came into focus and for a moment I understood. The doctors didn't know if my eyes would ever heal."
-Pi
I was once told I had a fan club, but I think it was a joke.
Me on my way to meet up with you to go out and slay the ladies - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=okpCx87orOA
That's what I love about writing - I can take my dreams and my impulses and use them as the raw material for creating characters and plots and scenes. On the outside I can appear entirely reserved while in my head and on the page grand things are happening. I do not make it perfect for them, I hit them with a many tragic turns, but there is still a purity and purposefulness to my art that is hard to find in real life.
Writing, for me, is a waste of time outside of conversation; pointless, flat, temporary. Other people can write. I'll enjoy reading.
That said, I'm thinking of churning out trash novels for paychecks. I could easily write one a day.