Doing is being. I reprise.

You should write. I say to myself. Every day. I sit, I stare, I think. Sometimes it works, sometimes it does not. Mostly not. I am blocked.

I am taking things for granted. I believe I deserve it. When I am not.

I have time. Hours. Yet I spend it on Facebook and wonder;
Where does the time gone? What have I done?
I lay my head down at the end of the day, knowing nothing has been done and the day is gone.

I wake up in the morning, hoping I will find the Inspiration. The Muse sitting at the end of the bed, breakfast steady and ready for another day of victory.
And suddenly, it’s 9 pm and the time is gone. We have none. I feel guilty.
I had a chance, I had the time. I had the same time as every other human being.

Yet, I failed, gracefully. I betrayed myself and my story.
I lied and I cheated my way through, ending the day with not a page, but nothing to show.
I will write tomorrow, I will write another day.
It’s easy to say.

There is no pressure. There is no urge.
What a foolish thing to say.
When one could step in front a bus any day.
Being hit by a car by accident. Being an arm-length from an exploding bomb. Mad days are coming, anything is possible.

Doing is Being, as my mentor, Ray Bradbury Said. So I must Do.

„…To not to do is to die,
Or lie about and lie about the things
You just might do some day.
Away with that!
…Let your body lead your mind –
Blood the guide dog to the blind;
So then practice and rehearse
To find heart-soul’s Universe,
Knowing that by moving/seeing
Proves for all time: Doing’s being!”


I Am One of Them

“What’s the matter?” I keep asking myself every morning as I stare at my face in the mirror.
It’s the face that expresses the emotions stirring deep inside of me. Confusion, Self-doubt, Fear, Disgust and an immeasurable amount of Sadness.
Every day I get my act together, put on a smile and go out to work so I can afford to have a ceiling above my head. It’s not that hard to keep the act together for the customers, but I occasionally catch myself getting a little bit grumpy or snappy towards the colleagues and realize that certain things I said may be inappropriate. So I make a joke out of it… Lucky for me, they believe all my lies.
That I am okay
That I am happy
That I am always out and about and do stuff with people.
While in reality I either sit in my room, staring at the blank screen and that little line blinking at me mockingly…
I am on a bus/train to somewhere, on my own. I reached the point where I stopped asking my friends to come with me because they either
a, Busy
b, Already have plans
c, Have no desire to spend time with me because I am a Bitch.

Yes, I can’t control my words sometimes. I know. Words are my only weaponry and I use them for both self-defense and attack. I speak softly first, but those quiet words lost their power a long time ago, so I have to shout my feelings out. And they are grim. So grim, they scare me to death. However I have nothing else left to use. Of course, people unable to interpret the feelings that have been channeled through those words. They only pick up on the words that they find offensive and they refuse to look at the whole picture. The fact that in these words there is a S.O.S. signal encoded. One that is desperately trying to get back to the place where we used to be. One that is trying to point out the flaws in our encounters with each other. But they no longer pick up on it.
I have been outcast. Left behind. And I guess I could deal with it if it wouldn’t remind me of my life before I moved here.
I had one friend back then and only because She was unfortunate enough to sit down next to me on the first day of High School. She was the only one who stayed with me. Then, When I came here, I got more friends, who had to deal with the fact that I didn’t know how to hug or act normally around people. It took a good year to get around that.
But times changed and so did we. And they slowly started to get too busy or randomly backed out as I became more and more sour. Any time I had one of these “moments” when I overreacted or ignored things, they put it down as tantrums. And I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t do tantrums. It’s just that my depression take control of me and I cannot keep everything bottled up. All my life I’ve been bottling up EVERYTHING.
14 years of emotional, psychological and physical bullying. Not having friends and spending 14 years alone in kindergarten and primary. No one should be left alone at that age with their feelings and thoughts, in the corner of the room. It’s not healthy. It makes you think of bad things.
Like that time when I hid in a School cupboard for 8 hours and watched how the entire place turned upside down over a missing child.
Or when I was out with a group of teens late at night. They took me out so I would socialize, but of course, no one bat an eye or looked for me after I suddenly left the group and hide behind a tree.
Or the night of my birthday here, when an argument escalated over somebody changing her mind and not wanting to stay for the birthday dinner. I left my entire Birthday Party over that too. No one bothered to come after me and gave up after a few calls. They had my birthday dinner with the person who wanted to leave. I could’ve jumped off the bridge near St Aldates. Sometimes I wish I did.
Of course no one knows about these things and the avalanche that ignorance brings with itself. When people who you knew for years think of you as childish, bitchy, temperamental and just annoying as fuck, there is really nothing left to do just step out and stop caring about anyone or anything at all.
I still got that friend though, despite her living hundreds of miles away. I just have to get through life until the next month. Then I could finally find a moment of happiness in the sea of tears.
And to get to the conclusion: There is no need for friends. Eventually, We will all die alone. Why bother working on relationships that seem to be going one-way anyway?
Stick to your characters, your imagination and forget all the rest.

I’ve Found an Oasis

So, I have always been a hugefan of Wonderwall from Oasis and thought of it as a very nice piece of music.

Yesterday, around 11pm I decided to turn on the Radio and an amazing song came on that made me think of Jimmy from Alienated. The lines went like:

“Maybe I just wanna fly
Want to live I don’t wanna die
Maybe I just wanna breath
Maybe I just don’t believe
Maybe you’re the same as me
We see things they’ll never see
You and I are gonna live forever…”

Now, you probably already got the fact that Jimmy was a pilot. He was flying during World War II before He got offered a job that took him off the planet. When I heard this Oasis song, I got goosebumps. It’s called “Live Forever” and the Acoustic version of it is the best.

But it Wasn’t the only song I’ve found to vibrate with the story of my protagonists. Pixie is known to have some sort of a depression throughout the story. Is it truly depression? I don’t know. It Wasn’t originally written into her character, it was something she told me She struggles with. She has nervous breakdowns and serious lows during the story, but not just for the sake of it. She does have a reason to feel like that, trust me.
Ray ends up primarily coping with the situation when they are left alone and without any sort of available medical care or help, He has to take responsibility for her.

I was clicking around in the sideshow, randomly at different Oasis songs when I found this one called “Stop Crying Your Heart Out”. It’s so sad and encouraging at the same time it left me with so many feelings I honestly feel like I might not be able to cope with work today. The part that goes

“Get up (get up)
Come on (come on)
Why’re you scared? (I’m not scared)
You’ll never change
What’s been and gone…
Cos all of the stars
Are fading away
Just try not to worry
You’ll see them some day
Take what you need
And be on your way
And stop crying your heart out.”

Sounds like something Ray would say to Pixie to make her feel better after what will happen to them at a very awkward part of the story.

Anyway, I am going to leave those songs here. Have some Alienated feels.


Alienated -where does it come from?

So, what is Alienated exactly?

I have never made a blog post about it, but it is a project I have been slaving over for a long time now. It all started as my project for the 2014 NaNoWriMo. It wasn’t perfect and I wasn’t quite sure it would survive the first few pages.

The idea for the story came to me probably after a long day out. I was sitting on a bus, on the way home, exhausted and a little bit probably tipsy. No, not drunk… To be honest, I probably only had like two bottles of cider and that’s that. However, I felt quite odd and out of place. My memories are a little bit mushy now, so I don’t know how the idea found me. I was thinking about starting a story that is on a bus, full of strangers, who did not know each other… But what if something happened to them? What if their fate will inevitably cross and doom them to get to know each other…

Now, at that point of blurriness, Aliens came into the picture. What if some of those alien abduction stories were true? What if Aliens do abduct humans with a certain frequency? Maybe they do experiments on them, use them as slaves or impregnate them? It could happen… OF course it is entirely possible that after the abduction you manage to escape, only to figure out you are way too far from home to get back in a whip…

Perhaps you are out there, with a complete nutter, thinking how you would get back to your pale blue planet in time to marry the love of your life…

How would you get back? How long it would take it? Could you survive without having a nervous breakdown and lose your mind completely?

According to the Free Dictionary :

Alienate could mean: “To cause to become withdrawn or unresponsive; isolate or dissociate emotionally.”

alienated also means: adj

“indifferent, unfriendly, or hostile”
Now, It is perfectly plausible that they would feel alienated and isolated in such a situation… But, if you think a little bit longer and play with the words… Perhaps they become aliens too. They must. They are off their planet… Hence they are ALIENated. You got it? Please, humans, tell me it makes sense for you too.

My boys

I thought I would like to start a little writing thread about the men I found extremely connected to for certain reasons. All of these posts will be about one partical person and why I found them inspirational, entertaining and universally attractive.

Now, mind you, I am pretty gay, but these men have a particular place in my heart. The words they use to paint with their imagination, the way they think and talk… It mesmerizes me every time and I feel a mixture of Sadness and Joy when I think about them. Joy, because they were walking the same Earth that I do and looked at the same constellations as I. But Sadness as I will never actually meet with them in real life. All is left for me are the old archive youtube videos, the books they have written and radio material.

And Who are these boys, my Men? There are a few  of them and I will try and dedicate a post for every one of them. But I am sure you will find my thoughts about them fascinating.

I hope you will enjoy the upcoming posts!


NaNoWriMo is slowly approaching and I finally just decided on the project I am going to work on.

It is going to be a Fantasy novel… Well, a novel about a fantasy writer who is surprised to end up in her own story. The idea came from looking at stories such as Tenth Kingdom, Games of Thrones and Once Upon a Time. I was thinking about how would the writer feel about their stories if they would actually have to live in them? What would happen if they would have to live their life by the laws of their own creations?

That’s when the idea of this story came to me. I was a bit of a sceptic at first, but now that I had a chance to think it through I realized I could work through this. Now, it seems like a very sweet idea at first, but I can already feel it shaping my own perception as a wanna-be writer. Through the main character I could already see my mistakes and occasional cruelty towards my characters and I slowly understand how much my decisions shape the outcome of the story. It wouldn’t be any different for Maya either. She lived a hard life and she has a dark and misfortunate background story that is already visible in the first few pages. But this background story is the whole basis of the story as she will try and secretly commemorate of it in her entire book series. All the dramatic changes in her real life shape the outcome of her written tales in ways she could never imagine. Would she be proud of what she became in the recent years? Who knows?

The namehas been lurking in my mind for years but I have just researched the background of it. Turns it it will be the perfect name for my dear protagonist and I tell you why. Better, I quote:

Maya or Māyā (Sanskrit māyā) literally means “illusion” and “magic”. However, the term has multiple meanings depending on the context. In earlier older language, it literally implies extraordinary power and wisdom, in later Vedic texts and modern literature dedicated to Indian traditions, Māyā connotes a “magic show, an illusion where things appear to be present but are not what they seem”. In Indian philosophies, Māyā is also a spiritual concept connoting “that which exists, but is constantly changing and thus is spiritually unreal”, and the “power or the principle that conceals the true character of spiritual reality”.

In Buddhism, Maya was the name of Gautama Buddha‘s mother. Maya is also the name of a manifestation of Lakshmi, the goddess of “wealth, prosperity and love”, in HinduismMaya or Mya is also a name used by Muslims. In an Arabian and IndianPakistani context the meaning of the name Mya is ‘princess’ or ‘honourable matriarch‘. In the Nepali language, “Maya” means “love.”…Another origin for the name Maya is the Tupi language spoken by Brazilian native indians, meaning “Mother”, and Mayara, meaning “Grandmother”. “

I found this fascinating as I unconciously named her  “Great Mother” as her alter ego in her own books. A goddess who is responsible for her own “children”, someone who is always there to listen to your problems.

So it is decided. For a while, the book is going to run under the title ‘Maya’ until I find the One True Title.

A few more days until NaNo. Time to confirm the names of he other main characters, including the antagonist, and then we could crack on with this baby.


I have a constant companion. His name is Fear. Fear that my writing will never be good. Fear that I will accidently get lost in my own stories. That I actually hurt people with it. Real people.

Others think they are just the part of my imagination, just some kind of mind-creations. No. They are all real to me. As long as their story is unwritten, they are safe, they are not complete. Once it is written, it cannot be changed. It is done. I can’t save them any more.

Some people say I don’t have to kill them. Well, I don’t want to… Sometimes, the story demands a sacrifice, a sacrifice that cannot be denied. Yes, it is meaningful, but seeing all the pain it causes makes me want to cry out loud.

I feel everything that my characters feel. I share their happiness, their sorrow, their pain. I am right there, when they have to make the decision, when they have to act. And not always in the way that is forgivable. To me, they are more living that most people that I know in real life.

I may not become a writer, out of the fear that I hurt these people in my head. I don’t want to cause pain to anyone. I might be too sentimental for most people, but this is how I feel. Writing makes me both ecstatically happy and incredibly sorrowful. I wish there would be another way. But I suppose I just have to live with this. I have to try and give them a purpose, a reason to die for. I want people to sing songs about them. To look up for them. To represent the ideas of a dreamer.

A dreamer of a better World.