I dream of lost things. The old and forgotten that live in the backs of wardrobe, hidden behind tables and swept under beds. The memories pile up on shelves and between books and on countertops. They overflow at the seams, peeking out from their hiding spots and reminding me of days long gone and people all but forgotten. I am reminded of days when I laughed until I cried and of days when I cried until I laughed, of firsts and lasts, of goodbyes and hellos. Nostalgia runs thick like blood through my house, creeping its way through every crack and crevice, making its home in the walls and under the floorboards. A photo here, an album there, an old pendent, a key, a letter. I am reminded of people whose faces are faded and blurry but who’s pictures are clear and bright and smiling, of days that run into one another and of nights so great I can’t remember them. My house is built from fractured memories and splintered stories that sulk around darkened corner and dance over my pillow at night, and as I lay down to sleep, lost things settle down and build homes in my mind.
I see shattered hearts and shattered glass and window panes streaked with rain from the departing storm. The old worn paths we used to walk are gone now, overgrown and forgotten and all I want is to remember the feeling of when we were young and I saw fireworks in your eyes and nothing could stand in our way. These days I drink my coffee alone and wake up in a cold bed and I tell myself our stories to get me though the day and I hope that I made a difference in your life or that sometimes I cross your mind because we were beautiful together and I struggle every day to adjust to a life without you. I don’t sleep well anymore because when I close my eyes, you’re there, and I’m staring at your back again but no matter how fast I run you’re out of reach. I remember the arguments and the late nights waiting at home alone when you never called and falling asleep at the dinner table next to a plate of food slowly growing cold, but I still miss you because I searched for meaning where there was none and I saw love that had been used up and dried out long before I met you and I thought you were the world, but I was foolish and I looked at you like a child looks at the stars in the sky and I reached for you but you were distant and cold and watched as I fell, tripping over my own feet to get to you. Occasionally I walk the paths we used to follow and visit the places we used to call ours and I think about what we could have been, but we were destined to go our separate ways and I will learn to live without you and one day in the future I will remember you and what we were and smile fondly at our memory, and the gaping cavity in my heart you left behind will heal and one day, I know, I will be whole again.
Daily Prompt: But No Cigar
Wow, thank you so much Into the Forgotten for nominating me for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award. What a great award! I’m truly honored that you chose to nominate me. My main goal when I began blogging was to gain inspiration and to inspire others so to be nominated for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award is just amazing. Sorry it took me so long to post this. Thank you!
- Thank the blogger who nominated you.
- List the rules and display the award.
- Share seven facts about yourself.
- Nominate other amazing blogs and comment on their blog to let them know you nominated them.
Facts about me
- When I was younger, I was scared of my reflection. At one point this fear got so bad that I had to cover all the mirrors in my room.
- I only eat the red colored jelly beans.
- My biggest fear is going insane.
- I hate having texting conversations because not being able to see the face of the person I’m talking to makes me anxious.
- In secondary school my friend pushed me and I broke both of my wrists. I’ve never broken any other bones but ever since I’ve had a fear of breaking my wrists again.
- I’ve been white water kayaking twice, in Glacier National park in Montana, and in Maine.
- On vacation in Alaska I came within a few feet of a bear. I was too shocked at the time to be scared.
In no particular order, here are some blogs that I’ve been really enjoying recently and that I’ve been finding a lot of inspiration from.
Black ink meets white paper but the words won’t flow. I stare at the page in front of me. My hands, frozen. I can’t write, I can’t think, I can’t see. My mind becomes the white of the page. A white noise, a white world, and a white taste that lingers on the tip of my tongue threatening to sweep me away in a wave of white. The words stumble and trip out of my mind, broken and messy, spilling out onto the page in fractured sentences and incoherent thoughts. The once neat lines of script turn into a sloppy storm of black characters, marching their way to madness across the page and through my head. The white walls of the page crush down on me and the words fall lifeless at my fingertips as the sentences fail to form properly and my mind runs thick like syrup.
I sink further and further into the sickly, sweetness of nostalgia and I stop fighting the oncoming waves, instead facing them with open arms and letting them whisk me further out to sea, and as I give up desperately fishing for the next verse, the letters swim into words and sentences and paragraphs and when I look up from my daze the once blank paper in front of me is now filled with ink dancing and winding its way around the whiteness. A weight lifts and the white walls retreat, leaving only the thoughts that now flow in a steady stream from my fingertips. Black ink once again meets white paper but this time I do not stutter, instead I write.
My favorite color is gray. Gray, like the mist that rolls into the hills and settles down outside my window on cold foggy days. Gray is the color of hazy shapes and blurred vision, of people feeling their way aimlessly through familiar landscapes that unexpectedly transformed into strange, unknown territories sometime during the night.
Gray was the color of his eyes in the wintertime when the bright blue faded away. His eyes were the color of regret and boredom after he realized something that was once there had been lost, something that no one noticed until it was gone, a spark, and with it gone, so was he.
Gray is the avoidance of conflict, the color of opinion and disagreement, of hard choices and negotiation, of understanding that the line between right and wrong is blurred and crooked and trampled by mistakes and missteps and misfortunes.
Gray is the color of raw emotion and painful numbness and water as it flows over rocks washing away the dirt and filth that builds up over time. Gray is the color of the sky and the ground and the backs of my eyelids. It is the color I see, the color I hear, the color I feel and as I make my way though this gray existence, I am reminded of dusty gray houses and low hanging skies, of winding asphalt roads and faded gray lives.
Thank you so much Cheryle, writer of Lightwalkers Blog, for nominating me for the Liebster Award! I love your blog and I’ve been having so much fun reading your posts throughout the Blogging 101 course! I’m honored that you chose me to nominate! The idea of the Liebster Award is to help bring attention to less well-known blogs and those who are just starting out in the blogging world.
The Liebster Award Rules:
- Thank and link the person who nominated you.
- Answer the questions given by the nominator.
- Nominate 11 other bloggers, who have less than 200 followers and link them.
- Create 11 new questions for the nominees to answer.
- Notify all nominees via social media/blogs.
Questions I was asked:
- What always makes you laugh? My friends. Even when I’m having an awful day, they always find a way to make me laugh.
- If you were a color, what color would you be? Grey.
- Where is your favorite place? My room. It’s the only place in my house where I can actually get anything done.
- How long have you been writing, blogging? I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. I’ve been blogging for about a month now.
- Who do you look up to? My family and friends.
- What is your favorite and least favorite personality trait? My favorite is that I’m hard-working. My least favorite is that I’m quite timid and shy.
- What is your most difficult experience? I don’t think I’ve had any really difficult experiences in my life yet.. I guess that’s a good thing!
- What is your favorite word and why? Either existential or affliction. No real reason, I just like how they sound when I say them.
- Who would you be if you were a person in history? No one! I quite like being myself, couldn’t imagine being anyone else.
- What do you look for in a post or a blog? I don’t have a very long attention span (I’m working on lengthening it) so I look for shorter posts about people’s lives and opinions. I also really enjoy art and food blogs, especially ones with good photography. I can’t resist a food blog with tasty looking pictures.
- What has been the best piece of advice you have been given? To enjoy today because tomorrow isn’t promised.
Here are the blogs I nominate:
Amazing World of Mine
The Bubbly Bibliomanic
Insane Like You
Addicted to the Sweet Life
How to be Merri
Gour-Makin’ Me Crazy
The Real Atypical Italian Traveler
- Why do you blog?
- How did you come up with the name for your blog?
- Which of your blog posts are you most proud of and why?
- Do you believe in soul mates?
- If you could travel anywhere, where would it be?
- Are you a morning person or a night person?
- What is your favorite book and why?
- What are three things you want to do before you die?
- What is one piece of advice you wish someone had given you when you were younger?
- If you had the opportunity to switch lives with someone, would you take it? If so, who would it be?
- What is your definition of identity and what do you believe creates identity?
Wow! Thank you so much, Into the Forgotten for nominating me for the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award! This award recognizes the unique voices of women bloggers around the world. I’m honored that you chose to nominate me for such a wonderful award!
- Thank the blogger who nominated you and link back to their site.
- Put the award logo on your blog.
- Answer the ten questions sent to you.
- Nominate seven blogs.
- Make a list of ten questions for your nominees.
Here are the ten questions I was sent:
These were actually so difficult to answer! I had to really think to answer a few of these.
- If you were musical instrument, what would it be and why? I think I would probably be a flute because I’m very shy around most people but I can be hyper and fast talking and thinking around certain friends.
- What is your guilty pleasure? I sometimes talk to myself or sing when I’m cooking and no one else is in the kitchen. I’m not sure if this counts as a guilty pleasure but it is definitely very awkward when someone walks in on me doing it…
- What is your favourite fictional world/universe? Wonderland, without a doubt.
- Why do you blog? Challenging question. There are a lot of different reasons why I blog. I think the biggest reasons is to find my voice.
- What is your favourite movie of all time and what’s so awesome about that movie? Ok, another hard question. I’m really not so picky about movies so I like almost any movie I watch. I think I’m going to have to say Breakfast at Tiffany’s because it is just such a classic, good hearted movie.
- What is one thing you wish were true but isn’t? I wish I wasn’t cynical. I’m working on it..
- If you could Apparate (that’s right, Harry Potter style) to one place on Earth in this very moment, where would it be? I’m actually very happy where I am, but I’ve always wanted to visit Japan so I’d probably go there, as long as it works both ways and would bring me back after…
- What is your life motto? Life won’t wait.
- Who is your inspiration in life? I’m inspired by people.. Of course I’m inspired by my friends and family but most of all I’m just inspired by the lives around me whether I know them or not. I find people’s actions and the unknown thoughts behind them intriguing.
- What is your current favourite novel and why? Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland has always been my favorite book because of its whimsical charm and underlying thoughtfulness.
My Questions for You:
- What is your biggest fear and why?
- What are you motivated by?
- What was the last dream you remember?
- What is your favorite book and why?
- If you could sit down and have a conversation with anyone, dead or alive, who would it be?
- When you were younger, what did you want to be when you grew up? Do you still have that childhood dream?
- Do you have a bucket list? If so what are the top three items?
- If you could boost one of your five senses, which would it be and why?
- Would you rather die young, or live forever?
- What is your favorite thing about yourself?
It’s easy to fall. It starts slow, with a slip or a misstep, and then a stumble, and I try to catch myself but I lose my footing and the ground crumbles out from under me and I’m falling. It comes to the point when I don’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore. My actions and words are foreign and I watch as I spiral further down, trying desperately not to lose control, but the more I fight back, the more tangled I become, and I’m caught, running like a fool in a maze with no end.
It’s easy to fall, and once falling, it’s hard to stop. It’s hard to climb and scratch and claw my way back to the surface and I don’t want to, until I’m sitting at the bottom of a hole I dug myself into looking up at what once was but isn’t anymore. I realize I like falling. I like the feeling of recklessness and impulsive decisions, until I see my reflection in the eyes of a friend, or a family member, or a kind stranger, and what I see is not me.
It’s easy to fall, it’s the impact that hurts the most. The moment when I hit the bottom, when I look around and see the mess I’ve made and the people I’ve dislodged and brought crashing down with me as I haphazardly grabbed at anything that I thought would make the landing more bearable. But the landing was not more bearable and I realize I can’t fall anymore, but I’ve said that before and I’ll say it again, and I falter and hesitate as I pick myself up off the ground watching the sunrise as it sheds new light on my existence and in this instant, all is right in the world.
In response to the Daily Post’s Prompt: Easy Fix.
Pleased to Meet You: Write a post in which the protagonists of two different books or movies meet for the first time. How do they react to each other? Do they get along?
My cheeks are red from being outside but I’m not outside anymore and I’m not sure when I came in. I’m sitting in the corner of the room watching things move. Everything moves slow, so slow it disappears. I can’t keep track of them anymore. A man in a hat was sitting with me but then he wasn’t and now he is again. I don’t look at him just in case he’s not really there. I’m afraid he’s not really there.
“Are you Alice?”, the man in the hat asks. It’s funny that he would ask that because Alice is a girl’s name and I’m not a girl.
“No, I’m Charlie. You’re not real, the dragon outside wasn’t real either. Am I going mad?”
“We’re all mad here, Alice.”, the man in the hat says smiling. Then he disappears and I’m walking now but I don’t remember getting up. I remember not wanting to be in the house anymore with Sam and Craig and Patrick and Brad in the other rooms, and the walls were too thin so I left but it’s cold outside.
I wonder where the man in the hat went.
Characters are Charlie from the Perks of Being a Wallflower and the Mad Hatter from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Loosely based on the scene in the Perks of Being a Wallflower in which Charlie is given something that causes him to hallucinate.
She looked at him. She stared for an isolated eternity squeezed into a fleeting moment until he met her gaze and she looked away, breaking the eternity and resuming a dull reality.
He was everything to her, and that was frightening. To trust, so freely, another human being was maddening when she knew the ending to every story lay in abandonment, in heartache, in pain, in solitude. She had experienced it. She had felt the sting of misplaced trust, but for now she pushed those feelings aside into the dark most corners of her mind.
For now, she was infatuated with a boy. A boy who made her laugh until she couldn’t breath, who made her cry because she knew he would leave. A boy whose words crept into every corner of her mind and drove her mad. A boy whose flaws shaped and molded a new definition of perfection in her eyes. And to her, he was a sunrise, promising to shed a new light onto her existence. The light that would keep her afloat until the nightfall when she would be plunged back into darkness darker than anything she could remember from before he came into her world.
She memorized the movement of his hands when he talked and the freckles that dotted his face. She knew his crooked smile and the color of his eyes. She knew him, and she was caught. Caught in his game of cruel consideration that threatened to sweep over her like a wave and pull her under and as he glanced away from her, she looked back at him.
In response to the Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Connect the Dots“.
Open your nearest book to page 82. Take the third full sentence on the page, and work it into a post somehow.