| phail. |
[25 Feb 2009|09:58pm] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Believe - Staind |
] |
I phail.
With a 'ph.'
I'm not going to make that damned six month deadline for nanowrimo.
Ughhhh.
Rewriting should NOT be this difficult.
D:
|
|
| a year. |
[09 Feb 2009|09:11pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 angry |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Pin-Up, Evans Blue |
] |
Wow. It's like, almost the 14th. It's almost been a year from /him./
My God. I hate you. You should go die, Casey, for what you did to me.
Turnabout is fair play, after all.
|
|
| mhm. |
[04 Feb 2009|08:46pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 content |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Breaking Benjamin - Until the End |
] |
So life has settled down for the most part. Aka, I've cut some people out of my life. And I don't even think he realizes. :'D Oh well. He said I wasn't allowed to be 'mad' about our fight. Just 'upset.' Apparently that wasn't the norma teenage girl reaction. :3
Okay. Done with being bitter. Onwards.
So a couple days ago I posted my new story. The Playboy Prince. It's really fun to write. A nice break from supernatural/romance. But it is still romance. Just a tad bit cliche. :D It's really fun to write. But what really sucks is that I can't write anything on Shooting Stars. I think abandon it or whatever. Dunno.
And I'm starting to work on Dammira's and Tiff's storiessssssss. Just gotta get offa my lazy ass. :'D
|
|
| 17. |
[16 Dec 2008|07:11pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 blah |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Sooner of Later - Breaking Benjamin |
] |
I gotta say, today was a really nice suprise. It made me realize that some of my friends actually do care. Justina's cake was like, amazing, and Michelle's snacks were yummy, and Marianne's balloons were fun to hit people with. :D My parents got me all these really nice clothes from Hot Topic - like all this Twilight stuff. I not really that much all into the movie - but I like that Cullen Crest on those jackets and shirts. I got this little metal twilight bracelet. It's really cute - all metallic looking, with quotes from Edwardddd. And a Twilight bag. Maybe they thought I was super duper into it? xD
I was really disappointed though, because I didn't get a laptop. I've been asking for one for three years. I didn't ask for anything this year - just for that. I guess, when they gave me my new camera Sunday, I shoulda seen it coming. They know how important writing is to me, and I have to get out there with it. S'not like I can randomly pluck my computer up, and take it with me to Starbucks. I even told them I'd give up a car to get one. A lot of authors say that, the only way to get noticed, is to get out there and show it off!
And I'm trying that. Oh well. I guess I'll use my birthday/Christmas money to go get that shitty dwarf laptop at Target. I guess I sound like a spoiled brat - but oh well. It's for what I want to do with the rest of my life, and I'll do anything to get it, at this point.
|
|
| writer's block |
[11 Dec 2008|09:30pm] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Dark Blue - Jack's Mannequin |
] |
Grrr. I'm really unhappy for what I've written as the Epilogue for BRS. I can't get any ideas...stupid readers. Doncha hate it when you ask your readers for their input on something, and all they say is "OH NOEZ. YOU RULEZ."
Grrr. Grrr. Grrrrr.
|
|
| trade. |
[10 Dec 2008|07:42pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 giddy |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Let Me Sign - Rob Pattison |
] |
So I think I need a break from some people - some people that I thought I could really trust. Now I see them for what they really are - arrogant pricks.
Oh hum. I just needed to get that off my chest.
So I had my chem test today. I actually feel pretty good about it, for some reason. Who knows? I might be going crazy. I can't wait for next week. I'm turning the big 1-7. Jooooy. :D And I'm just ready for school to be out. I hate Clements. It's overrated. And I'd like to get back to writing. I miss it. Life's just being a big fat butt right now, I guess.
And, for writing. I need a new beta. Well - just another one. I think it'd be best if I had two. I'm too lazy to send what I've rewritten of Shooting Stars to her, but I need to start editing Falling Stars - so I can meet the deadline for the publishing thingy. Any takers? I could beta your stuff, too. Like a trade. :DDD
-Is gonna go back to Algebra II nowzzz-
PSSSS. I saw Twilight over the Thanksgiving break. I liked it, yuh. ;D I don't really give a damn that it wasn't with the book. I thought it was good. Though I don't like the chick who played Bella. Ick.
|
|
| oh, what crap. |
[29 Nov 2008|03:41pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
annoyed |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Black Cat - Mayday Parade |
] |
So I finished my nanowrimo story a few days ago. It's total and complete crap. Moreso than normal. Which is kinda upsetting. Last year, for nano, I got really pumped and eventually, the characters wouldn't leave me alone. I had to seriously push the story this year. Oh well. Not like I'm gonna let anyone see it. :/ Scrappps, please.
Gonna go start on the rewrite. Sigh.
|
|
|
[02 Nov 2008|08:45pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 apathetic |
] |
I've been really super tired lately. It's not even funny anymore. I can't stand being this tired. And I've been like this for four months.
God. I hate this. I can't wait for band to be over, as bad as that sounds. But I can't wait anymore. Maybe I can get my life back. maybe not. Who knows? But I hate this.
Oh well. Gotta suck it up for now. State tuesday, and I have to compensate for what I miss for nanowriomo. Great. Just freaking spiffy.
|
|
| pda |
[28 Oct 2008|08:49pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 accomplished |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Jack's Lament - The Nightmare Before Christmas |
] |
This weekend was utterly crazy. I got reward for nanowrimo, for last year. Dude, I get my own free paper back copy of Falling Stars? No freaking way. No. Freaking. Way. When I opened that email, I screamed. Like, seriously. My friends thought I was dying, or something. But, seriously. This is like, the biggest break ever. I can sell my book, too? Amazing. Simply amazing.
And our band made State! I cried. Seriously. I totally didn't think we were gonna make it. But, I'm really pissed off at those Dulles people, hating on us just because we can get 15th place in something, and still kick their asses. Jealous, much? Tch. Stupid.
And nanowrimo starts in less than a week. This year is gonna be hell. Why the heck did I say I'd co-op a story with Sam, and do my own? But, either way, I'm not losing, and last year, Thanksgiving saved me. So, it'll work itself out, again.
|
|
| icing & art |
[15 Oct 2008|09:49pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 amused |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Leave Out All The Rest, Linkin Park |
] |
Grrr. I wanted to help Sam with his little cake thing. Oh well. There has to be another chance that I can spray him with icing... :] And Shabnam. Omg, that would be friggin' hilarious.
Urgh. I hate school, oh so much. Like Chem. Chem is a killer. Garcia can't teach. God. I wanna get him fired. D< He's so stupid. I have modifications, you retard. I'm supposed to get a copy of notes because I'm dyslexic and not supposed to use scantron, because I can't track.
Oh well. The world is full of morons.
And I've been wanting to put this drabble up, but not on fictionpress. It's just been sitting there, on my hard drive. It's weird, I don't know how it even came up:
art It was frail, yet it held the underlying beauty he yearned to make, but didn’t know why. Beauty was art, someone had told him once. Beauty was something that never aged, was flawless, and never went away. Beauty was simply beauty. But he had a different description. And he fought callously for it—for his thoughts to be heard. Art was temporary—fleeting. The teasing before the calm of the storm. The realization of losing said hope. Fighting for his idea, even in his mind, was art. It was the struggle before the resolution. He fought to feel just that. His art. His art was everything. The thing in his hand moved. This was no shred of art. It was black—black and burnt beyond repair. He scowled at the offender. He wanted to drop it, wash his hands clean of the filth. But he didn’t. He just didn’t. Because, he realized, this was art. The thing moved in his arms, breathing, wheezing, and dying. He held it by what he presumed to be the cheek, and soothed the creature. He was waiting. Waiting, waiting— The thing shuddered, coughing, hacking, trying to live— And that was that. He pressed his palm over the mouth and created art. Because death was art, too. The last art the embodiment would ever make. The first step into reality, then the calm before the violent end. He kept his hands clasped tightly over the mouth. He closed his eyes, breathing in heavily. He could feel it, something in his head. He could feel himself fading. Not necessarily his body, something otherworldly. He wasn’t dying. He was just leaving—his last shred of sanity. Because he was just leaving—not necessarily from the same state of mind, not necessarily— Life and death were art. The last breath, the last high, the last end. And it all led up into the calm. The nothing.
|
|
| text |
[25 Sep 2008|08:15pm] |
so kat and i still aren't talking.
peachy.
but, frankly, my dear, i don't give a damn.
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
|
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
blackcatbash's journal