~/~/~/~

It's strange when time passes by so slow.
Reminds me of my childhood.

Reminds me of moments of nothing;
no worries, no fears.
Just moments of pureness,
not the passings of years.

Time meant nothing
and was clocked by the sun.
The day was spent running,
doing nothing that wasn't fun.
It was an innocence that still lingers.
The lightness is still felt in my chest.
And a smile plays upon my lips,
but I'm torn, wanting to forget.

The memories make me smile
but that smile slowly fades.
Because they are only memories
and my time now is spent in this maze.
Full of lefts and rights
with each right yet still wrong.
And I stand lost in the middle,
wondering if this is even where I belong.

Why am I here?
Forget how. I don't care.
But why am I stuck in this place,
so lost, yet aware.
I know it doesn't feel right,
this place is not meant for me.
I'm meant for that day in the grass,
my heart's meant to be carefree.

Meant for those memories of nothing;
no worries, no fears.
Just memories of pureness,
not the passings of years.

It's strange when time passes by so slow.
Reminds me of my childhood.

~/~/~/~

This Place is Empty

~/~/~/~

This place is empty right here beside me,

yet I can still see your face.

See the warm smile playing on your lips,

how bashfully you look away.

Now my day is better, worries are less,

just to think of you so near.

But my heart saddens, heavy in my chest,

at night when your face disappears.

The night is so cruel to take you from me,

but the truth is what I must bare.

Our days have ended and our time has passed,

I'm lonely but I'm not scared.

I know there's someone just waiting for me,

simply to glance their way.

I'll see her smile so warmly towards me

and I'll smile at her just the same.

Because there's this place right here beside me,

and she just made my heart race.

Can't help my smile from growing wider

as she bashfully looks away.

~/~/~/~

Shut the world out with the closing of my eyes.

The clock ticks on, marking the passing of time.

Yet I worry not for you're here at my side,

and it's the warmth of your hand I feel here, held in mine.

There's something so pure, so subtle it can't be grasped.

Now the clock fades in the background.

Time's only marked by heart beats that pass.

Untitled Poem

Something pure touches my soul.
Tears come freely, falling in flow.

Unspeakable power,
too monumental to grasp
has me on bended knee,
pulled back to my past.
Where peace held my hand
and expression illuminated my path.
I surrendered to this place
where doubt fell as shadows vanished.

Letting go of my pain and relinquishing all thought,
I feel my soul set free and the world's burdens forgot.

Updated Pic and Questions

Alrighty. Someone asked for an updated pic of my tattoo and I will gladly post. But just to make note... it is really, really hard to take a picture of a white ink tattoo. Especially one in this placement...

Also, I have been emailed several questions that I will be answering on love, true love, and being in love. But since they are pretty serious topics, I will be posting those answers later.

Rhythms In Time

My thoughts of mind spin their own time
of streaming verse of long line after line.
All hours of night, without distraction of day,
they unfold their fancy, carrying my dreams away.

Sleep means nothing to these lumbering quandaries,
trampling my peace and the good night's sleep.
They engulf me completely, ignoring all boundaries,
stealing my rest while making my spirit feel weak.

They search for rhymes and rhythms in time,
as if no other way could be seen,
to express the thoughts locked deep inside,
and night was the only time to be free.

Words of Wisdom

I have finally decided to post this. These are the wise words I read in a book that snapped me out of a long standing creative funk and I know that a lot of you are either struggling with your own writings or have yet to be able to find that confidence in expressing what you have to say. So I'm posting these words by Dorothea Brande and hope that they help you as much as they did me. Because I'm not sure I would have started "Where Love Leads Us" without having read it.

"But then comes the dawning comprehension of all that a writer's life implies: not easy daydreaming, but hard work at turning the dream into reality without sacrificing all its glamor; not the passive following of someone else's story, but the finding and finishing of a story of one's own; not writing a few pages which will be judged for style or correctness alone, but the prospect of turning out paragraph after paragraph and page after page which will be read for style, content, and effectiveness.

 

Nor is this by any means all the beginning writer foresees. He worries to think of his immaturity, and wonders how he ever dared to think he had a word worth saying. He gets as stage-struck at the thought of his unseen readers as any sapling actor. He discovers that when he is able to plan a story step by step, the fluency he needs to write it has flown out the window; or that when he lets himself off on a loose rein, suddenly the story is out of hand. He fears that he has a tendency to make his stories all alike, or paralyzes himself with the notion that he will never, when this story is finished, find another that he likes as well.

 

He will begin to follow current reputations and harry himself because he has not this writer's humor or that one's ingenuity. He will find a hundred reasons to doubt himself and not one for self-confidence. He will suspect that those who encourage him are too lenient, or too far from the market to know the standards of successful fiction. Or he will read the work of a real genius in words, and the discrepancy between that gift and his own will seem a chasm to swallow his hopes. In such a state, lightened now and again by moments when he feels his own gift alive and surging, he may stay for moths of years.

 

Every writer goes through this period of despair. Without doubt many promising writers, and most of those who were never meant to write, turn back at this point and find a lifework less exacting. "

In the Shadows

Have you ever been so lonely,

that you see faces in the shadows?

They look back and see you too,

and all the things you don't show?

That hidden behind a facade of peace

churns a stirring tide of affliction?

And that you've been pushed aside and ignored at times;

suffocating in self-restrictions,

because self-assumptions of failing notions

now impede all your attempts at flying

high above the mundane world

and all the let downs you'd be denying?

Updated Photo!

Alrighty. I finally got around to getting it. I love the white ink. It's there without being obvious. I've only had a few people at work notice it and that was right after I got it done and it was still reddish. I might have to get a few touch ups, but I still wouldn't have wanted it in any other color.

Click on it for a much larger version. Bit of a funny angle.

Untitled Poem #2

Stuck on one word so I change the whole line

while trying to force my thoughts to fit this rigid rhyme.

My body and mind cry out to convey

all the things words seemingly forbid me to say.

Speak these thoughts? Share them with the world?

Gladly, if the expression of such, before me, would unfurl.

I have no way to forcibly set free

the passion and creativity confined within me.

For My Readers

I've mentioned this in the author's notes section of BWYDT, but I feel it needs more explaining. I know I have shared with you a few screen caps that have shown the number of you there are and how much feedback I have received with that particular story. But I would like to share something a little bit more personal now.

Since I was a little kid, I have struggled with feeling inadequate. I know must people have at some point in their lives, I always have. I've tried to figure out how best to describe this to you all and my sister summed it up rather nicely for me, so I will borrow her words. Growing up, my parents expected us to do well at everything and were disappointed if we didn't live up to their expectations, wanting to know why we weren't able to. While we were always encouraged to try something new or different, our efforts were never appreciated or praised because the results were expected. Why praise something we should have been doing in the first place? They very much lived by the mentality of never saying 'you did great' but rather saying 'that was okay,  but this is what you need to do to be better'.

That left a void and a feeling that no matter how much I tried, it would never be enough or at least never what they wanted. I could never reach that level of perfection that would win their praises. It's not that they were trying to be hurtful. They were simply wanting us to keep pushing so we never settled for less of anything. I understand this, but it still hurt and has left very deep wounds that have affected me in many aspects of my life, past and present.

The reason I'm sharing this is because of all of you. Your messages, letters, reviews... all of them have filled this void. For the first time in my twenty-four years, I felt like I had done something worth while and that was appreciated. When I first started writing, it was just to write. But with BWYDT, when I added the tattoos and poetry, it became so much more for me and for most of you. I made a connection with several of you that I was never expecting and am left without words to describe how thankful I am for. To those of you who have sent me letters telling me how much that story has impacted your life, you have done the same for me. You have given me the confidence to try something and actually believe that what I'm writing is something special. That I've managed to do something well enough that you can take something away from it. Like I've finally succeeded at something. So I thank you. Thank you for giving me something that I never thought I would find.

To remind myself of this fact, that if I try, I can do something worth while, I got this.

I just got it today and it's still healing, but it's not meant how it is explained in the story. Not entirely at least. But this phrase is what everyone latched onto. This was the first real piece of me that I put into the story that I had been hesitant to share because I didn't think it would be understood. You all proved me wrong and I am so happy you did.

Not only that, but after realizing how much of an impact that story has had and how much of a positive response I have received from it, my parents are actually proud of my attempts. I know that might not sound like much, but it's a lot to me. Thank you again for giving me something I never thought I would find.

You're Here Now

You're here now. Maybe that's what I was missing.
I've been fighting myself and the world for everything that meant nothing.
Now there's this warmth from a smile, this comfort from a touch,
and the knowledge of knowing that before you, I'd never felt this much.
How you've done this to me, I still don't understand,
But my world of pain vanishes with the wave of your hand.
You may touch my skin but I feel it in my soul,
and the pieces of myself I've found have suddenly grown whole.
The only thing to pain me is the thoughts of our pasts.
Lost without each other, love just out side our grasps.
My eyes of memory shut tight with regret,
for all that time wasted before pride fell and hearts met.
Yet somehow when they open your hand is in mine.
You're here now, and so will I be for the rest of time.

There's Always Tomorrow Chapter 1

Here is the prequel to Beautiful When You Don't Try. Chapter one. I tried to stick with the same overall vibe of the verse, but without making it see too strange to have a Quinn/Adrianne pairing. Don't worry all you Faberry lovers. Rachel will be a prominent character, just not by being there physically.

The first chapter so its mainly about how they meet. The chapter that will be posted on Thursday gets more settled. And next Tuesday even more so. My goal for this prequel is to have you all go back and read BWYDT afterwards, and kind of hate Quinn during the beginning instead of Adrianne. I know that sounds horrible, but it will round out the whole story much nicer. You'll understand both sides of the story with this one, not just Quinn's.

As for the basic warnings. I do not own the character of Quinn nor anyone from her back story. It's rated 'M' for mature for later chapters. Femslash. Don't like, don't read. ...I think that about covers it all. Again, feel free to leave me comments or send me an email to let me know what you are thinking about it.

~/~/~/~/~

Quinn leaned against the bottom row of desks in her psychology class. Her lips were pursed in annoyance, her foot tapping, and her hazel eyes rolled up to the ceiling. All while she reminded herself that she had set a goal to learn to be more patient. She needed to learn not to bite people's heads off when they were acting stupid. She needed to not ask them point blank if they were morons. She needed to not stare at them in complete disbelief of their stupidity until they got the picture and walked away in shame and fear. She needed to change that. That behavior wasn't making her happy or proud. And that was why she continued to stand where she had been for the last ten minutes as her professor flirted with two of her class' dumbest female students.

“Are you planing on sleeping with him?” A voice called out and it took Quinn a minute to realize the person was talking to her. She dropped her eyes from the ceiling to the professor’s teaching assistant who was currently grading papers in a seat next to her.

“Excuse me?”

The brunette set her pen down on the tiny desk and pointed to the occupied teacher. “Are you planning on sleeping with him?”

The blonde didn't know how to respond to such a blunt and inappropriate question besides a simple and rather haughty “No.”

“Then you're wasting your time standing here. He wont help you, only give you the run around until he gets what he wants, which is in your pants.”

“Is that how you got your position?” The cutting remark fell out of her mouth before she could even catch herself. Quinn closed her eyes in regret and opened them again to see the assistant reclined back in her seat with an offended but amused smile on her face. “I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated from waiting.”

The girl's emerald green eyes staring back at her were unblinking. “That's alright. But to answer your question, no. I'm not sleeping with him. Not that he didn't give me this position hoping to remedy that fact.” She explained, rolling her eyes. “But anyway, what did you need to know and maybe I can help you out since we both know he isn't going to be available any time soon.”

Quinn was thankful that the girl didn't take severe offense to her crassness and tell her to fuck off, but rather offered to help. She was great at offending people, not so great at making friends. Quinn set her books down and pulled out the printout that outlined what her next paper was to be written on.

“Oh, wait.” The brunette interrupted her, seeing what was in her hand. “Let me guess. You're looking for that one example he left off, right? There's an example for three of the four personality types and you're looking for the fourth.”

“Yeah. How'd you know?”

She laughed lightly and took the paper from Quinn's hand and began to write on it. “That's how he gets them down here.” She remarked, pointing quickly to the two students that were fully enveloped in his flirtation before continuing her notations. “He intentionally leaves things off so that he is approached after class. It gives him prime flirting opportunities.”

“That's just... repulsive.”

“That's male.” The brunette offered. Quinn laughed and turned her attention back to the assistant. “Here. Thoreau. Last semester he was the dick's favorite example after everyone had turned their papers in. If you write on him then you might catch our pervert's attention for the right reasons, not just because you're beautiful.”

Quinn accepted the paper back with an appreciative smile. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

The blonde took a few steps away but then stopped, turning back to the assistant. “I know it's not really my place, and especially after I insulted you, but why are you his assistant if you know he's only trying to sleep with you?”

“He may use faulty lesson plans as a tool to get women, but I'm using this position as a tool for my future career.” Quinn arched an eyebrow in curiosity, taking a step closer again, and the assistant dropped her eyes to the desk with a nervous laugh. “I'm studying law. I want to focus on human rights and discrimination. He and his sexist and power abusing ways, are my study subjects. I'm learning about the enemy.” She joked, earning a laugh from Quinn.

“Well, I wish you the best of luck with it.”

She nodded then held out her hand. “I'm Adrianne, by the way.”

“Quinn.” The blonde greeted, accepting her hand and returning her smile.

“Well, Quinn. It was nice to meet you and I maybe I'll see you around. You know, out side of the class.”

Quinn nodded in response and left, thinking maybe she had finally found someone in this entire campus that she could hold a conversation with and not either feel threatened by or want to kill. It didn't take too long before she had a second chance to find out. She had been talked into going to a frat party by her room mate and only agreed to hold up appearances. She had found that while she continued to feed into the things she was 'suppose' to do, it made her less and less happy to do so.

She had run away from her past in Ohio to start a new life but found herself still very much living the one she left. Now, it just had new names and faces. Everyone acted the same. There were the annoying self-centered ones she wanted to strangle, having even less patience for them now than before. There were the popular ones who thought they were better than everyone else and sought her out as friends, only because they saw her as a threat. There were the jocks, only concerned with their reputations and appearance. The intellects who looked down upon everyone else, and more so if they felt threatened by someone who suddenly proved themselves to be either smart, or perhaps even smarter than themselves.

Quinn was already over school but she had nothing else to do, well nothing else that she was 'suppose' to be doing. Her spare time was spent immersed in her photography obsession that had begun to develop towards the end of her freshman year. It started to provide her with some additional income, but even that was starting to grow unappealing. She could feel herself slipping back into a familiar depression that she was hell bent on staying out of. But here she was at the party, shifting through a crowd of people who she felt could barely look past their own needs and desires to see anything else in the world because she was twenty-one and was 'suppose' to enjoy being here. She was no better than them, following societies pre-approved rules, and that realization only depressed her even more.

“You don't look to thrilled to be here.” A familiar voice called in her ear as she found a hiding spot near a door way in the overly crowded house. The pulsing music and screams and cheers were already giving her a headache. She turned around to be met by emerald green eyes and a genuine smile. It was Adrianne.

“Um... Hi. I'm not actually. I would just never hear the end of it from my room mate if I didn't make an appearance.”

“Ah. It's amazing how miserable peer pressure can make us.”

Quinn opened her mouth to respond but she was cut off by a firm hand on her ass. “Hey, Babe. I didn't think you would be here.”

“Get your hands off of me.” She ordered, slapping his hand away as she turned to look up to the tall brunette jock. He threw his hands in the air in surrender.

“My bad. I keep forgetting that's off limits.”

“It's all off limits to you.”

“Everything okay?” Adrianne asked as she now stood behind Quinn, concern in her voice as she moved a little forward just in case she needed to step in between the two. Quinn clearly wasn't impressed with the smug an drunk student and he was all smiles, only fueling the aggravation.

The blonde just stared down the pretty boy as he slowly retreated backwards into the crowd. “Yes. Everything's fine... Jerk.”

“Do you know him or is he just really forward?”

Quinn let out a sigh and ran her hand over her forehead. “Unfortunately, I even dated the ass.”

“You have impeccable taste.”

She couldn't help but laugh and loved how the anger instantly subsided. Adrianne's sense of humor was very much like hers. Smart and quick. She could really see herself making a lasting friendship with the brunette... if she would just let someone in again. “I know, right. Um, so... are you here studying more of the enemy? Because I'm pretty sure you just saw a prime example. I could introduce you two.” She asked, pointing behind her to her ex who was now grinding with two freshmen.

“No. Actually I came looking for some tail.” Quinn dropped her brow but couldn't stop herself from smiling. She knew it was a joke but found it oddly charming. “No, I'm just here because a friend dragged me along as well. Did you want a drink?”

Quinn shook her head, holding up her hand. “No thank you. I don't drink unless there's someone around I can trust.”

Adrianne arched an eyebrow. “Are you a wild one at heart?

“Ha. Not hardly. I'm about as up tight as they come actually.”

“You don't strike me as uptight, maybe just mature enough to be over the childishness that accompanies events such as this.” Adrianne offered, waving her glass around the room of nearly one hundred drunken college students who were either trying to dance to music that was far too loud and only stumbling on the person passed out on the floor, or were too busy to dance because they were trying to get laid.

“I like how you think. It's like you can read my mind.”

“I'm just very perceptive. It's like a sixth sense I come by naturally.” She joked but the statement caught Quinn funny and she found herself smiling. Memories came flooding back to her and she dropped her eyes and furrowed her brow, trying to forget them all over again.

“Actually, I think I might want that drink. Would you mind being my body guard for a little while?”

“Seeing as the friend I came with is now upstairs with... a few people, I would love to. At least I know you're capable of holding a conversation that doesn't involve the words 'dude', 'bombed', 'fucking', or 'I'm going to throw up on you'.”

After getting Quinn her drink, they escaped the noise and headed outside to the cool night's air. They walked until the noise was far enough behind them so they could actually hear each other and then kept going. “I love the cool weather. It reminds me of home.” The blonde stated absently, looking up to what she could see of the night sky through the trees.

“And where's home?”

“Ohio.”

“Illinois for me. What brought you out here?”

Quinn laughed to herself and met her potential new friend's eyes briefly as they continued to walk in a slow pace. “It wasn't Ohio.” She joked, earning an understanding nod from Adrianne. “No, I'm just dabbling in the arts until I decide where exactly I'm wanting to go. I've latched on to photography, but I'm slowly losing interest.”

“Any particular reason?”

“I love it. It's...” She hesitated, meeting Adrianne's eyes and trying to read her interest. She couldn't remember the last time she had held a conversation that wasn't about pop culture or who's dating who. “It's freeing. But lately it's become a bit more of a hassle. I do weddings and birthdays and family reunions, but it's a lot more work than I had imagined it to be and it's not easy to try and do by yourself. I would prefer just to be more freelance but I have to pay my bills too.”

“Well, have you thought about getting a friend to help out?”

Quinn laughed again as they continued to walk to no place in particular. “Do you know how hard it is, not only to get a college student to give up their Saturday, but tell them it's to go to a wedding?”

“Okay... good point. Well, I know we just kind of met, but I'd be willing to help out if you need it. I mean, you aren't doing a wedding every Saturday are you? Because if you are... I don't think I can sacrifice my stellar frat part attendance.” She joked with a warm smile.

“No, it's sporadic, but I wouldn't want to impose. I appreciate the offer though.”

Adrianne grabbed her arm lightly and let it go once the blonde stopped. “It was a serious offer, not one just to be polite. If you need the help, I'll help. I would hate for you to lose interest in a passion just because you're too damn proud to ask for it. So I'm offering it.”

Quinn smiled lightly as she furrowed her brow. “You are a good read.”

“It's a gift. So?”

“So... I guess I'll let you know when the next wedding is.”

“Sweet. Now I have something to pull me away from my books and actually blame for when I fail a test and you didn't have to swallow your pride. I think this friendship will work out just perfectly."

A Picture Is Worth 1,000 What?

You know how people say a picture is worth a thousand words? Well, I found out recently that they are also worth 1,000 questions which form an interrogation that has now made me question how invasive pictures can be into one's life. For example, I was messing around with my camera and took the picture posted below. I never deleted it from the card afterward and when I was unloading them all onto my computer a friend began making observations in the form of questions.

Did you take that? Yes.
Is that your bedroom? Yes.
Do you ever make your bed? No.
Is that your top sheet covering the windows? Yes.
Have you ever thought of putting up curtains? Yes.
Are you going to? No.
Is that a picture of an eyeball on your wall? Yes.
Whose eye is that? Mine.
Yours? Yes.
Doesn't that creep you out to have by your bed? No.
It would creep me out. ...
Did you take all those pictures? Yes.
Do you ever answer a question in more than one word? ...yes.
...Smart ass.

Write Me A Poem

Write me a poem. Write me your words.
Tell me your thoughts and the things that you've heard.
Share with me your life, your love, and passion.
Tell me of your day's experiences and what unexpected things happened.

Express to me what you never have before,
Because it's the expression of such that makes our love grow more.
A deeper connection grows strong from such things
And away with your thoughts, my heart flies and it sings.

Sings of days spent with my head on your chest.
When time ticks by slower, more content than the rest.
When my heart was not mine, but yours instead.
And when I realized that I, before you, was dead.

You gave life to these bone, breathed air to my lungs.
Your gift of words gave me miles of dreams to be spun.
You gave me things I could never give in return:
a passion for love and life that inside me just burns.

~/~/~/~
I was working on the Adrianne/Quinn fic when this poem came to me. If put in context with the story, it would be from Rachel to Quinn in BWYDT.

It Was A Dream

This is the poem that I took my user name from. It goes back to the post I did about dreams and how they can be very real to me.

~/~/~/~
I sprang to sit wrapped in my sheets,
My body drenched from sweat and heat.
I strain my ears for another call,
as my chest heaves with a heavy fall
On this night, I woke to a scream,
only to find, it was a dream.
~/~/~/~

What Words Miss

~/~/~/~
What music does not emote,
and canvas cannot portray,
and what words miss,
is everything I want to say.

My mind races away all day
but my ears do not hear its calls,
my mouth cannot speak its words,
and my heart feels naught but its falls.

I would sit a thousand years in silence
and before you I would kneel,
if you could provide me with the words to say
and I could just express how I feel.
~/~/~/~

All I can say is WOW!

I know I just posted the last chapter of what has become an epic fanfic, but I have two screen caps to share with you. Click on them to make them bigger.

The first is proof of how amazing and consistent all of my readers are. On average I had around 1,800 read the story every single day. The yellow line is how many unique people read it in a single day. The blue bars are how many pages of the fic have been viewed in that same day by those people. Amazing.

Then I went to bed after I posted the last chapter and woke up to an email inbox that looked like this:

By 8am, just six hours after I posted the chapter, I already had 56 reviews on it. That is insane and completely... just... I'm speechless at all the support. Thank you all who also frequent this site. Your interest is truly inspiring. I cannot thank you enough.

Untitled Poem 1

~/~/~/~/~/~

Thoughts race and days pass.

Nothing changes yet nothing lasts.

My only desire: to close my eyes

and wait for dreams of starry skies,

cool nights and gentle breeze,

when worries lift and depression flees.

I found my place, I'm untouchable.

I found my peace and want nothing more.

~/~/~/~/~/~

My Gift to You

~/~/~/~
Touch me, just the lightest of grazes
     and the world stops where I stand.
My heart pounds with a fluttering beat
     just from the touch of your hand.
The very air is sucked from my lungs
     and I'm left gasping for breath.
My mind stumbles through its train of thought
     as my heart is ripped from my chest.

It's yours, just take it, my gift to you
     and do with it what you will.
It matters not, your feelings for me
     as you see, my love beats still.
~/~/~/~