Wild: Revel 12.29

Theme: The Temptation of Romanticism 

Note: If I don't look like an Eliac/Bond twist, I'll be disappointed. I'd like the black velvet tonight, the one with the pearl v-neck collar. Matching thin over-cloak, the one with the hood. And the dark-red lipstick tonight. Glow-in-the-dark eyes preferable.

Theme song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTIu_wwxkQI

Azrael and I to open with first dance this evening. The usual cheering crowd is acceptable, of course.

You know the idea, my Henri.

Decoration: think old parties, all the good pairings from the films I like, dancing, class, lingering breaths and kisses on the hand just a little too long. The moment after they drive away. The cigarette butt she drops in the street. We are, tonight, the flicker of happiness before the unhappy end. The happy end will come, though. Soon. Dim lighting, nice furniture. Good tablecloths.

...Okay, so we're the sex. >_> But lean more towards the first bit, Henri.

Other music: Bond Music, hey-happy-birthday-I-bought-you-that-island-in-Peru-you-wanted-rich party music. Class. Think and stress restricted class. A little Dracula's time London in there. Underscored beauty, raw and there and--there.

Entertainment: Waltzing. A stag hunt this evening; I'd like Emilia to be the stag. She's very beautiful. Perfect.

Council business: As usual.

Food: Dinner? Salmon and potatoes. Icicle glasses particularly shiny and glittering tonight, Henri. A lot of that element, like last night, please. All staff is restored to full tonight, no exceptions.

Wild: Revel 12/28

Themed: Obviously. Tonight's theme is Triumph/Self-celebration.

Theme song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kS9SUmAyKWM&feature=related

Other music: Think beautiful and more than a little unsettling. Lady Mordu, perhaps, would be willing to suggest a few?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfLIlx_ps-g&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFsKvvwrxGc&feature=related

Decorations: comfortable as possible. Comfort and a little mind-stirring, that is the goal tonight. I'm smoking a rabbit out of the hole, and I'm doing it with class. 

Dancing style: Waltzing, old tradition, mixed with crazy and total rave: unstable

Business: gifts to me tonight are henceforth suspended be they digestible; all incoming guests to be searched thoroughly and all guards to travel in pairs! My own staff is to be questioned by Lords Ignio and Arbados until we are clear who was responsible for the depravity. And by God, I want this to be the party of a lifetime. I want people spinning when they walk out, I want the champions, the servants, the nobles, the gifted, the guests--all--to be exhausted and happy and more than a little unsteady on their feet. My Lady Henri, remind them who the hell we are.

Court business: to proceed as previously planned. Ragfaron will be presenting tonight, there will be wars and training and fun. Frivolity. I do not want the People to recognize that we were in danger if and until I can return myself; expect me there around five in all likelihood.

Henri, Dyrim, pray you have the most beautiful of my dresses be prepared this evening. If I don't look like a goddess, Dyrim, I think your master will be most displeased.

Humans are to be welcome and privy to the current situation. Vampires, until they prove their connection with the royal family, are to be barred tonight; so are the werewolves. Accepting, of course, the monarchs and nobles of both. The un-noble are welcome only after passing a test to enter the Guard or my staff; the best tests and choicest of difficulty. My dear, dear brother, my Nephamael, I leave this to you, provided you aren't overcome with your new duties. Please do me this accord?

Faery revel tonight. Warn the incomers.

The Bolcyra in particular are welcome tonight, raise their glasses to my name. I would have my Champions fight in the tournaments this evening.

That should do it. Magic mirror me with questions.

Barring a visit from one person, I'll see you all in about seven hours--
Aqe Vale!

Eliac

Wild: Eating dinner

"I'll be right back," Taylor had said, getting off the high stool and walking towards the bathroom. I turned to Kelly.

"And?" The Eliac voice came out at once. Several people near us looked at me with new interest; Kelly growled and they turned back to their chicken.

"He warned me this would happen, didn't 'e," mumbled Kelly, giving me the evil eye. "Warned me not to linger too long with you."

"A little late for that particular admonishing, I think, sir. Your message?"

He sighed. "How much you keep from us," he said, putting his fingers in the shape of a triangle. "How much we didn't know! The news was everywhere, that a human had refused you, but I didn't think--no one did--that you actually loved her!"

"You saw what they did to me, Leown," I said under my breath, stirring my straw into my soda, unable to look at him. "It was all for her. Did you really think I did not love her? Love someone for whom I went through that?"

"No," said the wolf flatly. "I didn't. You hardly seemed to be objective at the time!"

"You insult me," I said slowly. "In the name of time, I will forgive it. Your message?"

"Your Court has been returned you by the Red Rose marker of Justice, and the blood of my Packs," reported the wolf. "The Revels are restored tonight, and in your honor, with double the guard. You have officially taken a side, I fear, in the civililities at court, but are none the worse for it. Your Divine Parents--they're missing, my Lady. Most think them dead; but hear me, it was not them who ordered the attack upon your people. Sylandrile and Silvestra are prisoners somewhere, you may be sure of it."

"And the Black Court?" I pressed. "What of them?"

His eyes found my moonstone. "Be very careful with that," he said. "Whoseever it is.... there is a reason Lord Azrael gave it to you. We, among the Wolves, have worked hard to discern its identity, but cannot trace it. Dyrim's could be traded--as you left it in our keeping and requested its return of late, I hear--for a bit of your own, if you desire it, you have only to ask of course. Ragfaron has long been partial to your support, even given this recent venture, that hasn't changed. The Dark King and Queen are ruling well, my Lady, more supporters flock to them every day. They benefit greatly from the coming invasion; yet we are certain they did not dispatch it. For them to have done so would be nothing less than illogical--who would want to take a broken court? Nay, say I that if Azrael pursues your throne; he would take it whole and gleaming, not in pieces on the wildlands. It is his manner, to have a triumph be total and complete and... well...."

"Triumphant?" I pressed with a grin. He shook his head at me.

"Your struggles are growing to be legendary," he said. "I've never seen a court taken back twice in less than a fortnight before! That battle--" I raised my hand and eyed the others present pointedly.

"Thank you. The Law saw me right, as the Law is meant to do. As for the Battle... did you really just expect me to sit there and take it? Eh?"

"Well... forgive me, but we have not... seen your.... process.... for some time now, many assumed it gone altoget--" Slap.

He reeled, blanching. "My lady!?"

"You!" I snarled, several looked in alarm as I lowered my voice, "It was you! Just to prove to all others that I would still defend my own court, you attacked it!"

"...he told me not to tell you," begged Kelly. "My Lady, he bade me not to tell you this until you were more prepared to recieve the idea that--"

"That what? That you threatened my court? Overtook it? That you hold my parents prisoner in a cell somewhere, screaming for their daughter to rescue them! How dare you! How DARE you! So help me, I'm going to bloody--"

"And I'm back!" Said Taylor, popping up out of nowhere and sliding into her chair. "Whoa, what's--"

"We were just," I snarled, "Leaving."

Wild: Eliac's Christmas Address

This past year, we have all discovered ourselves a little more. One more day, one more breath, one more piece of information. We gather ourselves from Time, we weave ourselves into Eternity. That is the process of life. We search, all, for power and hopefulness and love. No matter what race we are or where we're from or how many centuries we've walked this Earth, we are looking for good things. Our hopes will always unify is, whether we are high and powerful or lowly and poor.

Therefore, the hopes that unify us deserve nothing less than our total faith.

For many years,  that hope, for all, has been placed upon me; it has been my honor to lead the Roses through these many years of difficult negotiation. Many of us have worked countless hours to maintain the Peace so many take for granted among you, my people. It warms the edges of an immortal heart to realize that it is so expected it may be taken so; that Peace. It gives my angry heart solace to realize that you feel safe enough for that; despite the weight of my burdens.

Noble-hearted beings, Roses, and Allies, to you I say that those burdens are taken for granted just as easily as the hard-won peace. This past year my heart has learned the burden of Love. True and utter Love. With that Love I have shown to all of you my humanity, what of it remains lies in the heart of your new councilwoman. May you trust her fully, may you listen without doubt her wisdom and judgment when she arises to her throne.

I am not without weakness, my brothers, my sisters. As all of you, I have weaknesses. And, like you, my weaknesses make me stronger.

Weakness is not a thing to be feared, it is a thing to be admired and utilized. To know our weakness is to know what we would protect, and from whom. It is to know what you would be willing to die to protect, bleed to protect, suffer to protect. Without our weakness, we lose the humanity all have striven to maintain. Without our weakness, we are only the faces we wear to the outside world. We do not have love or kindness or goodness in us without the fear or pain or fury or sadness. To lose one is to lose both, and this is something I would weep golden tears to hear has been done.

Yea, you hear me well: the rumors of my weakness is true. She lives and breathes in the human world, untroubled as yet by the plight of immortality and the weight of my power on her shoulders. She is the reason I am willing to allow Azrael's hands to way waste to me night after night.

And without that Love, I would not be before you now. Remember this before you pass your judgment. Let the knowledge of my weakness be on your memory sweetly, as an equalizer, rather than another barrier in a world of expectation and rank.

All of us, my people, have Loved: may our next goal be forgiveness. To each other....


and to ourselves.






Aqe Vale
Eliac

Wild: Whipping cream

To make good whipping cream, you should freeze everything.

The carton of cream itself, even the beaters. Then you should freeze it an hour or two, then refrigerate it.

It won't be good after you've used it for roughly two hours, so use it quickly.

Omnomnom.

Wild: Today Featuring Hannah Nathan as Guest Blogger!

I believe that the state of our nation’s deficit is atrocious.  Our United States’ debt is too large, and a change needs to occur in order to lessen the burden of future generations.  My solution to this horrendous situation is to cut spending and to modify taxes.

In order to reduce the deficit, I propose to cut spending on numerous programs.  The United States’ current national debt is about $14 trillion, but its total debt adds up to $54.5 trillion.  Click here, http://www.usdebtclock.org/, to see the real time debt clock.  As one can see, this is a very large amount of money the US is indebted.  My first proposal is to raise the qualifying age for Medicare/Medicaid and Social Security.  Medicare/Medicaid is the largest budget item, followed closely by Social Security.  The United States government is spending $823 billion on Medicare/Medicaid and $722 billion on Social Security.  When the Social Security law was put into action, in 1935, the life expectancy was 62 years old.  Therefore, if we raise the eligibility for Medicare/Medicaid and Social Security to 70, closer to the current life expectancy rate, we will be able to cut spending immensely.

My second suggestion is to cut spending on some of the more outrageous business subsidies.  A subsidy is a grant from the government given to a private company in order to help it to continue to function.  While government supports businesses in the energy, agriculture, and transportation fields that look to develop new technologies, it also supports rather outrageous companies as well.  Click here, http://www.askmen.com/top_10/entertainment/185_top_10_list.html, to see ten ridiculous government subsidies.  In 2002, the United States government spent $50,000 on a tattoo removal program in California.  Click here, http://www.drtattoff.com/media, to see a video of a tattoo being removed.  In 2003, an Iowa senator received a grant for $250,000 to start the National Preschool Anger Management Project.  In 2006, $10 million was given to the Intercity Bus Security Grant Program, in which $46,908 was awarded to Hampton Jitney Inc., a company devoted to shuttling wealthy New Yorkers to their summer homes in the Hamptons.  I propose to either get rid of programs like these all together, or reduce the amount of money the programs receive from the government.

The state of our nation’s debt is out of control.  In order to reduce this debt, I propose a modification to our taxes.  I suggest that a flat tax is set up for everyone at a lower rate.  If we implement a flat tax rate, then everyone who pays taxes will be on an equal playing field.  This will get rid of all the tax loopholes, and will not allow anyone to cheat the system.

If we look back to the time when President Reagan was in office, he lowered taxes in hopes of boosting the economy.  During this time, inflation dropped from 13.5% to 4.1%, the top interest rates decreased from 21.5% to 10%, and the gross national product rose 26%. 

If these statistics reflect the changes in the 1980s, then in today’s economy these significant changes will be warmly welcomed.  At first, the government will lose money, but with time the economy will start to improve and the government will eventually begin to make money again.  With this new tax structure, the unemployment rate will start to decrease, as well as our national deficit. 

In conclusion, my solution to the United States’ deficit is to cut unnecessary spending and to implement a lower flat tax.  Our debt is too large for our current government to manage, and requires a tremendous change.  We need to be adamant about finding a solution for this huge problem.

This is an official blog entry for the YourLocalSecurity.com <a href="http://yourlocalsecurity.com/scholarship">Blogging Scholarship</a>. If selected, I'll receive $1000 towards my college expenses in 2012. This scholarship is sponsored by <a href="http://yourlocalsecurity.com">

YourLocalSecurity.com</a>

Wild: you know who you are

I'm writing what happened last night.
All of it, unedited.

But I can't put it up here, because I don't want them to know
so if you ask me
if you message me on the FB and go, "Let me see it"
then I will.

For like ten minutes, to make sure your curiousity doesn't get the better of you
and pillage my heart-songs to you with your eyes on it.

Wild: Revel 12/20

Theme: Yes. Murder In the Church/Old detective movies

Decoration: Think poorly-budgeted films. You know what I'm talking about, yes, Henri?

Theme song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQxem0rBcNg

**Gate Song: Scooby-Doo chase music (but only from the original series)

Maybe a little Rat pack left over from last night, but I want the music to flow from our last themes into the present. Things are changing; illustrate this please. Also, if "Shake rattle and Roll" is played I will personally get on my knees and roll down a hill covered in thorns. Middle of the night a random playing of a Rave song to quiet the grumbling teenagers--let's see if we can avoid Sandstorm this time, please?  I'm giving you a few ideas, but nothing too specific: maybe some Indiana Jones, but no Star Wars.

Hex girls at least once. 

Another Pyramid -Aida

Shake Senora - BeetleJuice

Day-o - Beetlejuice

Step-ford Wives - Theme 

Say a little prayer for you - Franklin version of course

I put a Spell on You - Hocus Pocus

Sweet Transvestite - RPHS

Sherlock Holmes theme from the Play that was performed...two ish years ago? Henri?

Time Warp!!!!  Get used to it now, mundane.

(I expect, for Leona's opening Revel, a choreographed version of this).

So on and so forth. Second circle, run with it.

One Waltz, please? Waltz of the flowers, I think.

Expected dress: Think mix of reg., I want some Clue and also some Rocky Horror Picture Show.  Beetlejuice, while not my first preference, is also acceptable. Forsaken are welcomed in for this, it's damn time they're invited. I know what's been going on there and I will take actions to stop it if I, personally, have to drag in some half-dead and risk the consequences. Clear?

Ghosts can touch, feel, live, eat and drink in accordance with tonight's theme--moreover, if they are the "murderer" during one of the breaks, they win mortality if they win the game. Eliac restore.

Prizes to any and all who win more than one game. Prize to any and all who manage to best the guards and be addressed by a Council Person before they are caught.

IF they caught by the speaking side of the circle, they may stay.

If they are caught by the silent side of the circle, they switch with a council member for half an hour. Enjoy it, children. 

Power: Timothi, this one's you all the way. Get out those damned suit-coats you're so fond of.  Preferably not the yellow, love.

Dance style: Open, I don't want "Revelling" dancing so much as "humanesque" dancing. Represent your time well, ladies and gentleman.

Feeding: Aaaaah. Damn it. Halflings only tonight unless anybody has recovered from Savagery, Rat Pack, and Reveal. Nymphs? I know how fond you are of flirting, if you wanted to be useful for a change I'd appreciate it. Clothing color: Purple. Royal Purple with silver lining.

Social encounters to be listed:

Right side of the Circle is to be voiced this evening,

Public airs are to be heard and returned back to me, preferably by tomorrow evening, via magic mirror.

Break time from business! Play "Murder in the Church".

Mythology's presentation on Mortality: The influence is to be held tonight. Compare notes from two nights ago, I expect Elvish summaries from all of you. Yes, even you, Jacques!

Mix circle: Switch--outer with single-bodied middle. Life change, fortnight. Henri is immune.
-Subsidy: No mazes in the middle circle.

 From there, Champion Fighting. Nephamael, organize a tournament.

You decide what and who they're fighting for.  Wildcard it up, brother.


Aqe Vale!

Wild: Revel 12/17

Theme: Yes. Jazz Band/30's/Flapper/Gangster, etc, etc

Decorations: No.

Costume changes: Mix--Reg. w/ Theme

Any Bans: Nazi's/Communists

Music Changes: Mix--Reg. W/Theme (But at least one play of the night's song, Witchcraft, by Frank Sinatra)

+Council Dictations
 -Public Voicing s from the post-it's on the outer circle
 -Dancing for roughly three hours given music similar to theme
 -Council issue: Ignio v. Mordu, Tradition v. Religion, Mortal Intervention and the High Thorns' Vote on its appropriateness, Voicing's of the left side of the Circle

+Human entertainment: Yes. Nothing vulgar until 12/27 ("The Night of the MoonFlower")

+Tithe's: None tonight, unless the Red Rose, Ragfaron, Timothi, Mythology, or Prince Nephamael insists

+Food and Drink

-Different than usual a little; all drinks given the gift of the will-power Halfling
-Shape-shifting drinks banned for this evening
-Absinthe on slight reserve (half-mixed with the usual offerings) until we figure out our new buyers
-Considering Tabreaux, which is releasing a new line in the coming year (though I'm pretty sure Henri will have arranged some way to get it via other channels until I switch the buyer officially)
-All Guest Monarch's meals are to be of white descent tonight (I'm sure the others need a rest after last night's "Savagery"), halfings acceptable as long as they're untouched by the tainted Food or Drink
-Lady Elizabeth, if you could please see to it they're kept safe, I know Azrael went a little out of hand two nights ago and I will keep my loyal servants safe


+Social Expectations and Altercations

-Water Court, I don't want to see anything too shameful.... yet: 12/22 will be Summer-Fey themed, save it for then

-Fire Court, mind your manners: we do NOT attack visiting mundane! Especially those on passes! Ignio, watch your responsibility carefully.

-Azrael, I didn't appreciate your little "brush" at the movie theater; in my human skin no less.  It hasn't warn off yet and if you do it again I WILL have Nephamael kick you down another flight of stairs, see if I won't!

-Henri; I suggest the Right of Substitution for Azrael. Keep him away from his meals tonight, are we clear? After he's spread his own poison--to himself!

-Ignio, be careful, please. I've received reports of an uprising with Earth that's most unsettling. We need to find out who Dyrim's replacement is for the Splinter immediately. Most especially it cannot be Azrael; may I suggest Nephamael?

-I won't be there again tonight. I'm sorry.


Eliac

Wild: wishing

Moments in life which disappoint us are hard.
There are no fancy words or fine phrases for that;
it simply is.
It isn't the sinking feeling that shocks us;
it's the moment where we realize that this is permanent 
this is real
this is happening.

Even though we didn't want it to,
it has, and we must come to terms with that,
or we must fight with that
or we must be saddened over that.

The disappointment is the choice for our future.

Sometimes, I like to linger with the scent of it on my breath
mostly I just wish it away,
wish it weren't there
and that my happiness, so hardly won, would merely stay.

I want it to.



As I've often said, there's power in a wish.
Perhaps I should try it.






....







....







...







Non. Still nothing. My basement is still empty, and I still wish I weren't alone.

but I will keep wishing.
Yes, you may count, sirs, on that.

"Wait! Take mine for his!"

"....What?"

"My Soul for his! Take mine!"

Oh, OOTI.... do I understand you well....

"Now his life is forever mine--"

"And I am yours..."

Wild: Snarling (my return song to the Revels)

We would fight our weaknesses, all of us
And I advise if this is wise:
in the doing of the thing, so become we human again
Fighting a weakness and letting it live is to become stronger
And unbecome the death we’d seek from weak.

Cats and people run from it
Be the hour of dark or glittering sun
With triumph, harsh and bitter, in my stomach;
I know the truth of this crude thing.

They have been forced to notice me
They have been forced to see my face
They are the circles underneath my eyes
They are the fear inside my heart.

So does my empty magic come
So does the blood in my veins run,
Invisible anger is my power.

Sometimes I picture my blue-grey eyes
Fringed with thorns instead of lashes;
So do I picture thus our greeting.

Greeting, when my fingers touch your face
When you touch them back with a gasp of incredulity
With my too-dry lips upon your shapely cheeks
Vine-fringe draws your ire from my sleek and tender touch.

In the moment, your will eyes widen
against inner will do you glance toward the door,
My vine-eyes will see you with an unempty grimace
My vine-eyes will see you with a humorless laugh:

Your snippets of fear
are become my temptation.

Does that lessen my weakness,
Or does it lessen me?

Me,
Or you?

You,
Or me?

Regardless,
You will feel my touch
And to your touch I feel.

The moments will pass,
Dead.

Dead,
As weaknesses
are not.

Immortal or not,
we cannot kill them:
they are only as dead
as we want them to be.

Wild: flames and terror

Sometimes I get so scared--particularly after an attempt on my skin--that I just want to be held. Not comforted. Held. Touched. I want to feel someone next to me, I want to hear someone's breath.

Finley won't be near me now.

I guess it's just me, a dark room, and my bed....


am I too old
to miss cuddling?

Wild: Ariel

Last night I had a dream. It started like my good dreams do, with flashes, but it didn't end that way.

There was a ship on clear water under a clean sky. People I knew manned that boat, random people. Katie was there, but so was Schultz and a choir teacher I had in middle school. So were the boys I played with in elementary school. Lots and lots of people, from every walk of life. Some I knew better than anyone else; others I'd glimpsed in the street or at a theme park. People. Hundreds. Thousands.

Suddenly, flash--as only dreams can do, flash--and there was a storm. The sails were on fire. Lightning and a dark, angry sky. People were swimming, escaping, nearly everybody lived.

And for a minute I think, oh, this is actually pretty okay, I mean that was scary, but they're all fine, right?.  Wrong.

Mermaids pulled one down at first, speaking secrets in her ears while she struggled for breath. Angry, hungry mermaids, the real type of mermaid--the carnivorous kind. Lifeboats, too, pulled down from the water in their claws. Their laughter mixes with the screams. The angry sky, pelting the world with its issues, is ignored. The wreck of the ship breaks in half and sinks, a veritable Titanic.

I watch them struggle. I watch them die. I don't have a choice; I so rarely wake up from these. I wake up in tears. Finley isn't there; he's in the Shower. I'm not due up for another hour. I hug myself until I hear the water stop and then I change into my work clothes, holding back everything, holding back the noises and the sights of my terrors.

"Ready, Payton?" Katie, I realize with a pang, she was in my dream, and she was the first to be claimed by the Mermaids! They were pulling on her hair, they were munching on her ankles. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I have these?

"Yes," I answer, striding into the car.

I send a text: "Heeeeeey theeeeere. You didn't by any chance drown last night did you?"

"Nope."

I'm starting to fear falling asleep again. If it isn't about Ryan--none of these dreams lately have to do with him--then why? Why does my mind do this to me? I wish I had someone to protect them, the people who get victimized just because I see them in my life.


Moreover, I wish I knew a way to protect me.... from myself.

After work, the pictures, the sounds, swim in my memory again, begging for my attention. When people ask me how I am, I say, "Fine."

But today, that was a lie. I wasn't fine. I'm still not fine.


....I don't want to sleep....

Wild: Blog whore today

Original message, from Hillary:
"hey Payton if u have a cell and u can text i really need to talk to u could u text me at 9207234250 when you have time thanx (its not anythn about u really its just i need to talk to u about jacob) than

thanx*"

Oh shit. I take out my phone and type quick as my fingers can manage:

My text: Hey. What's up Hun?

Her: Ya im okay and hes okay i just felt a little sad

Oh. What's going on? Can I help?

Well its hard for me to talk to Jacob he doesnt call me when hes at college he doesnt email he said he missed u when i tell him i miss him he never says he misses me. i tell him i love love him and i got an i know i just really want to know if he loves me back i really want to know whats going through his head but he never tells me i just dont know what to do so i thought if he talks to u mayb u could ask him about me


i just want to know the truth

Ask him for it. Love isn't meant to cower, but to admire from afar. I think Jacob... he isn't a one for monologues of immortal Passion, Hillary.


Idk wut those words mean im sorry 'IchLiebeDich' 

He's for quiet glances and the important moments in life. He UNDERSTANDS people. Talk to him; let him get rid of your turmoil.  It isn't for me to help or hinder those moments. Oh... right. Which ones? Cower means to crouch in fear or shy away. Monologue is like a single person speaking with big, important thoughts.

i do talk to him he forgot about my familys thanxgiving i love him. i try talking to him and all i get is ive been busy he didnt answere any of my questions

Give him space? Talk about HIM? Jacob's so full of treasure. Get to know him; everybody changes.


Oh ok so i shuldnt be worried bc what matters is him and i make eachother happy =)

No. I'm saying don't write him off as "the boyfriend". He's a person and you need to appreciate him as such. He's a good man--and those are rare.

ur right hes the nicest guy i ever ment he makes me smile and laugh we dont fight its a good relationship but i never dated someone like him well i dated him twice b4 so i guess i new what i was gettin into i guess it just thought it be different thanx for talking to me i feel better its just hard not seeing him all hte time i care for him so much. i just dont want to lose him for the third time.

People change. You have and so has he. Learn the new him... and make him happy. I think... I think that'll help.

how do i learn the new him?! =)) 

That's up to you hun. But I'm always here to talk.

Thank you payton jacob comes home this weekend and ill try my best to get to kno the new him ur an amazing friend never had one like u =D thanx again

I think Jacob loves me. I think he has for a long time. And knowing I've hurt another person like that, just by being me, made them happy and yet sad.... is something that's hard for me.

God Damn it, I just want you all to be happy. Can't we please work on that?

Wild: Repost! (this time from BMP)

I am not beautiful
not like the one who had taken her hand is
the one of the fine, thin neck and feather-black hair
the thin waist, the docile hips
no, no, I will never have anything like that.

All I have is words.

Words
wild, dawn-fingered hair
a quick-silver tongue
is no match for a face that makes common men gasp
in silent awe at beauty.

Tonight,
I do not even have the words,
my brothers
I only have the shadow-struck tears
and eyes that won't guide me to sleep.

Wild: stupid as Naydreen

In the original version of the song, Naydreen just says things that are funny. That version wasn't quite bawdy enough for me, so I edited. In my version, Naydreen is a Santharian woman (read: hooker) who makes bawdy malapropisms to increase her business. She really is pretty (read: really) but has the worst choice of words; and so famous are her efforts to increase business (Read:hooking) that it's a well-known Santharian song.  In honor of the actual good idea and well-written song, here's their verse (the rest you will see in this post are my parody of that song, no copyright infringement intended, blahblahblah):
 
She invited the preacher to her house so they say,
She said, “It's a party, I'm 19 today.
Ma’s bought me a dress and a bonnet so cute,
So come round and see me in my birthday suit.

We heard what she said, and we knew what she meant
we heard what she said, and we knew what she meant!”


So... I feel like that today. Stupid as Naydreen.

Why? Firstly, nightmares. Not bad as yesterday's, but they couldn't be, not when I was so close to my guiding light. No, sir. Even fallen like slab, she still is my protector. Just mostly from myself.

And also, you know, the occasional share of ultimatum's from Finley.

I feel like whenever I start to get happy, I get reminded of how much I've been a monster. To Ryan. To Elizabeth. To Finley, now.

I keep hearing people say that he's the "right choice," like I have a choice at all.

Naydreen cleans the outside o'her house so pristine
when the rain starts with her mop, with her mop will she clean
with her white shirt on the planks, on the planks she will lean:
'Love, aren't they the finest that you've ever seen!'


We heard what she said and we knew what she meant
we heard what she said and we knew what she meant!"


I don't have a choice. A choice would involve there being something else to pick, and I don't. This whole "Me or the Roses? Katie's friendship or my love?" business is pressing and destroying, and it's much harder to make up a smile in the mornings. So I've been spending a lot of my mental time with Naydreen.

Naydreen works around at the post here in town
she licks all the stamps, jewels a-flash in the sun
the men, in no hurry, quite ready to lounge
an' she'll say, 'Darlin' no fears, extra spit on this one!' 


We heard what she said and we knew what she meant,
we heard what she said and we knew what she meant!


I sang a few verses for Finley today to keep away whatever he was going to "advise" me on next, and it worked. He hasn't laughed so hard in ages.

Last night was pretty cool, too. I wrote some papers for Katie, got out of the house. And yes, you know, two hours of sleep, but that's totally worth it. It's fine. I can sit here and sing to myself until my day begins.

"You're awesome, you know that?" She'd said to me. "I'd be so fucked without you.... and that's horrible of me to say, but it's true." And she'd turned back over and went to sleep on that bigger-than-mine bed of hers, and that's how I felt: stupid as Naydreen.

Naydreen likes to wander the docks with her eye
and sailors bring scarves for her fine eyes to see
one asked about length, knowin' quite what he'd buy
she said, 'See here, my lad, any length is just fine!' 


We heard what she said and we knew what she meant
we heard what she said and we knew what she meant!


Why was I doing this? Why was I sitting here writing papers? She said it was because I wanted to help her, because I was a good person, but I'm not. I am a horrible person. I was there to see her smile and be near her and hear her breath. Doesn't mean I'll stop writing papers or cleaning or eating her food. Whatever I'm doing, if she's there, I'm happy--and doesn't that make me stupid as my Naydreen?

I can't know. But I wrote and wrote and wrote and thought and thought and thought, and whenever I got frustrated about this piece of lighting information or that play ideal, I'd just turn and look at her, and realize she was sleeping peacefully--realize she'd wake me up if I did sleep and something in my head went wrong, because I think she'd know before anyone else did:

"Are you at the point where you just don't want to sleep?"

"A little." She stared. The brow furrowed in annoyance at my purposefully vague answer, because I don't want to say, yes, I'm terrified to sleep, please keep me up?

"Payton." A threatening tone. "Are you afraid to sleep? Are you at that point?"

I nod slowly. "Yes.... but I'm also tired." True, and slightly less vague. Understanding floods her features. I wonder if, like vampires are supposed to, she can see fear on my face. Sense it hiding in my heart.

"Then sleep."

"Not yet." Please?

"Then one more paper. THEN you sleep." She might not like giving orders, but she does when she needs to.

When we were young, we would play in the fields
we'd swim in the rivers and we'd climb in the trees
with her her skirts all a-rumpled, she'd wink and she'd say:
'if it isn't the biggest tree as ever'd been seen!'

We heard what she said and we knew what she meant
we heard what she said and we knew what she meant!


"Maybe I don't deserve you," she said. "Maybe he's right."

That's so far from correct I can't even put a label on it--and why do you get to say that, eh? Why? There isn't a choice. There isn't a choice. Are you all listening? The half you're pushing for me to choose won't let me chose it. I can't--I can't chose what isn't offered me. Get off your horses, and cheer for Naydreen.

Wild

Nightmares suck.

Especially when they're so intense you don't wake up for, oh, twelve hours.

I disgust myself--I can't let my imagination get the better of me.

Still, the minute I get out of bed, I text half the people involved and Facebook whoever's online with a 'Are you okay?'

Because I have to know, like you would if you were me, that I'm not as much a monster as my subconscious says I am. For things that were my fault.

That there aren't *really* bitemarks on Kate Murley's neck, that Katie didn't *really* get the shit beat out of her, and that Finley isn't *really* dead. Not to mention my own body--that there aren't *really* hundreds of recent wounds to defend those three--but that's the easiest to check, isn't it?

Not to mention the obvious:
When it comes to the people I love, I'm the last of my concern.



Always.

Wild: Santharian Music

SANTHARIAN ALE
by BARD JUDITH

Gimme a flagon, a barrel, a wagon,
Oh gimme a flask or a pot or a pail,
And do not stop pouring the while I’m adoring,
Yes, gimme a drink of Santharian Ale!

Let there be a table, as broad as is able,
And set down a stool, a stump or a chair,
And if there be doch nuts, then heap them in waterbutts,
Oh innkeep, I’m ready t’ let down my hair!

A drinker who’s boozy should not be too choosy,
So bring on the leeswine and beer without fail,
Oh barlass, keep fillin' the glasses I’m swillin',
And pour me some more o' Santharian Ale! 

This tavern was heady
Drinks brewed in a smithy
they'd brandy and stumble and sudder and whine:
there's bottles of scotch
but one is too much!

Santharian ale will do me just fine!

This is one of those songs we're all ashamed to admit we actually enjoy--found m'self humming it today. ;p

If you'd like to suffer with me:

http://www.santharia.com/mp3/Bard%20Judith%20-%20Santharian%20Ale.mp3

Wild: Easter Egg description (again, slightly graphic warning)

The moon was bright that night. Like daylight. I didn’t need any extra light to see where I was going--and of course, he was there.

Isn’t that always how these stories go? But it’s true.

I met him on the Riverside a ways up on the road from my house.

I remember the dialogue--I’d memorized it--but seeing this, doing this, was crazy. It was insane.

Katie didn’t know I was going to complete what she’d read. I concealed it from her, but I harbored no regrets. I didn’t want her to see this.

“….tainted my Arbados, my human--what have you done? Are you out of your mind, Azrael!?” The words came to my lips easily. I’d read the thread so many times…

And then he skips a great deal of dialogue, his response being:

“Offer yourself to me.”

I breathed heavily. I can’t help being excited by this; he’d already touched me and his poison was strong against my skin. 

I took the pin from my hair, just as was written, let the silver hair roll down my shoulders. My bare shoulders. I’d worn a dress of dark green that was (at Azrael’s choosing, as is custom, he was the “sighted” one for this meeting) translucent, the sleeves weren’t sleeves at all but billowy and shimmering and see through. They started at my elbow and went to my wrists; attaching with a thin ribbon on either side to the lace trim on the top. No bra; I didn’t want him to ruin any (and he would have), but I did wear underwear, you could see the red fabric through the dress. But my shoulders? Bare and clear. Healed.

Bare…. for a few more moments.

Knowing what was coming didn’t help me; I knew the pain was coming. Looking desperately at the tree line, the road, anywhere where there would be people, I remembered what I’d said to Alice:
You know that, at the last moment, there is no rescue? That nobody comes? There is only his teeth on your precious neck, only the pain that comes from Love to protect you. Is that aid enough to you?
 Suddenly I was stronger, better. Why? Why did that make a difference?

I love her. I love her and I will always, whether she does me or no; and though I’d told her she could have stopped it, she could not have, not without making the information afterward invalid, and I needed that information.

I pull my hair to the left shoulder, tilt my head towards him. I can smell the alcohol on his breath, see the triumph glimmering in his gaze. Fear strangles me, tears begin to roll. I bite back a sob; my shoulders tremble.

He slaps me. It smarts.

“Did you want something?” Snarls Ryan, “Offer yourself!” Oh, dear. Azrael is improving--anything can change now.

“Please, sink your teeth into me again, Azrael,” I whimper, angry that my voice is so weak, “Please, make me alive again.”

He walks towards me, pushing me against a tree. There is no table here, this is human land. No, there are only the words and the actions.

“Azrael,” I plead; I beg him not to harm me with my eyes and my voice, “Azrael.”

The blood is warm against my skin as he tears down my thin lace border that runs along my breasts. His teeth are sharp. Unlike other vampires, he is not gentle, their winsome Prince--no, not gentle at all! I write otherwise at times, for the young ones, to protect them from doing something foolish against one infinitely more powerful than they, but…. Oh, my God, the Pain.

He’s right. He was right to edit me; I scream. Loudly. His hand flies over my mouth to muffle my cries as he feeds on me, as instinct forces me to struggle against him.

I scream and I keep screaming as he continues to silence me, his eyes rolling, drinking my blood until I feel dizzy. Those cries are my way of fighting, and I had promised I would fight.

Women, men, humans everywhere long for what I have experienced. They think it’s somehow a big sexy thing, being bitten, having your soul taken from you, seeing it on his teeth in the low-hung moon.

Well it isn’t.

It hurts. You don’t moan and beg, you scream. It’s involuntary to resist; your body wants this to stop. It’s being set on fire, and not in the subtext way. You want it to stop, every moment, the entire time. You, if this were you, could make it stop, could walk away. Takes a really sick human to not do that, to want this.

Unlike you, I have no choice. I have no will to resist. I had made a vow.

I keep my promises.
After his first drought, he pulls from me, I gasp in a high-pitched almost-scream and his teeth dislodge from my shoulder. “Is she worth it?” He says now, referring back to the earlier idea where we followed what we’d written.

Katie’s face, with River Song hair in a green sweater she doesn‘t own, swims to my eyes. Her eyes are my gold-brown, her ear pokes wistfully from behind that crazy hair. Her shoulders are broad. Her scarred face is smiling. Katie. Katie.

“Always,” I sob, and suddenly this--this--Whatever it is--it doesn’t matter. Katie. This is for Katie.

Back into my shoulder. Again, the scream that no one listens for.

And then we have our conversation. He proposes the crazy idea again. Dyrim comes into the grove.

Like Ryan got to chose my outfit, I had a right to hers. I could have her come in whatever I wanted to.

I told her to dress warmly.

When she came to me, when I delivered my words, they weren’t angry as they had been when I’d written them. They were soft and apologetic.

Too late did I understand that she, too had done this for love.

Still, when she moves her hair, when she reveals the bare and smooth skin, my pulse quickens. This is my chance. This is my chance. Her blood could be on my teeth, I could repress her screams.

I can’t. I can’t do it. I will not punish another for Love as I have been punished--so I jump at Ryan instead, and he laughs a brief moment before catching me and biting me again, drinking and drinking and drinking.

He leaves me unconscious and wounded on the ground behind my house at about four a.m.

I saw Katie that very day, fight her that very day, driven to teach her to defend herself.

“I’m fine, see?” I pull down the t-shirt to reveal my clean left shoulder.

“And the other one?” She presses. I freeze in horror, tempted to flee. How had she known to ask so quickly? Had I grimaced when she touched my shoulder?

“Um… I…It’s…. it’s fine,” I lie, hating the taste of the deception on my tongue.

Her beautiful eyes narrow. My heartbeat increases. “Let me see it,” she orders me.

“No,” I say, barely more than a whimper; Please….

I’d distracted her with something else, but she hadn’t been there to distract me.

Just her face and the thought of her had been worth all this pain.

Is she worth it. Ha! Is life worth it? Is breathing?

She is… always... Worth it.

The last time I saw her, night before last, she said, “What if I’m not ready for you?”

Fine, then I will wait.

I will always wait…

Because I love you.

Wild: Homework hunting

Found this written in my homework today, on an old math assignment:

Let the day come
when your fear of my
wild, free heart is replaced by love.

I will say, 'Hello',
and you will say, 'I owe you much.'

Wild: Semi-graphic easter egg warning

:"Are you there for me, or for her?" Payton, or Eliac?

She stared at me with a furious expression; I could picture smoke rising from her ears. "Do you really need to ask that?"

And I believed it.

Today....

I gave my reasons for not wanting to take her to a Revel. I explained, over and over and over again--it was dangerous. They could use her to harm me, and therefore my people, and I cannot allow my people to be harmed; she was selfish to even ask. I didn't even expect her to pass the Test; sometimes I even wonder if she would have had Dyrim not thrown it to give me a smile, make my eyes blue again.
 
 I told her it was my escape from when the thing she couldn't help--not loving me, because really, who would? Who honestly does? I've heard a thousand 'no's' and no 'yes's from the world--and it was what I needed.

She said, "Take me once and I won't do this anymore. Take me once and I will stop." Steam from the butt of her cigarette, the gold-brown eyes sincere."I... I understand the need for an escape. I won't intrude."

I fucking love you. Damn it, damn it, punch me in the face, I love you.

"Why do you even want to keep Courtship?"

"Because I do."

"Why?"

"Because I do!"

"You shouldn't want it," I said to her, anger budding in my heart and committing suicide when it realized who it was directed to; I calm myself, picture a beach with sand and warm sun, "I refuse hundreds of suits a day, you have no reason to keep it! The danger is passed."

"Yeah, well, they weren't me."

"'Having it will hurt me."

"Even for one day? Even for just the Revel?" I nod. The words offer themselves to my throat: Giving me what you don't want will let me remember it and enact it. If we are Courtship at the Roses, I can kiss you, laugh with you, touch ten fingers to your face. I can lay my head upon your shoulder for no other reason than weariness. I can talk to you like I do now, truly, in front of the people that honorate me. Katie, it'd make me so happy. I think I'd die from it--and just because you felt like it? I know you don't actually want any of that. Ryan made perfectly clear that you will never want me, never want anything but the Roses--

I began to snarl in my most Eliac fashion instead, to silence that line of poisonous thinking, and stop, trying to turn it into a cough. She noticed, raising an eyebrow at me with that expression I love so much.

And damn it, I love her. I love her.

After successfully dodging what had happened to my ear---teeth from a Courier of the Stone Court, ordered by my Mother and Father so they can control me at some point in the future, and I didn't really have a choice the night that Hannah had come--I looked her straight in the eye.

Yes, I greeted sunlight in the eye, trying to keep my hands from shaking.

"You know me better than anyone else," I said, my voice raw, disbelieving; "I've gone to greater lengths to protect you than I have anyone else."

She nods, annoyed with a huge grin. "Yup."

I looked at her. Tears threaten my eyes. "And it isn't enough?" No response.

I walk back towards the house, stopping sobs rattling my chest. "It's never enough," I say as I walk for the door.

That's how I feel.

That's the other pattern with my "students". They forget me. I... I am just Payton. Even with being let go from Ryan recently, even from healing, that is still all I am. That is all I ever will be; a little Eliac, but mostly? Mostly just myself.

And it isn't enough. I gave you every inch of me and now you want more, because I'm not enough.

Maybe if I were enough, things would be different. The choice I want to make would be possible.

But it isn't.

It isn't, and you don't love me.  Ryan told me that and I didn't believe it....

But he was right.




Maybe he was right about everything.....

Wild: car ride

Katie smokes cigarettes.

Three a day, she says; one on her way to class, one just before shop, and one sometime in the evening.

She has a bright green lighter; when she uses it the flames flicker in her eyes.


"Are you pretending to fly?" I glance over at her in surprise.


"How could you tell?"


"You're leaning forward, hun," she says, tapping the paper. A few ashes trail off onto the air, gone before my eyes can greet them.


You and your cigarettes. Makes me laugh.








When I'm with you,
I'm always flying.

Wild: For you, Hero

Sitting in your room,
I look up.


The bell has rung.
The half-day is over.
I'm already forgetting my Junior schedule,
latching onto this detail or that I can't fret over.

It's like someone wiped a year clean.
Time for a new life.

Adult life does that every day,
but I don't understand that.

I think about my room at home
which is dark at all hours of the day regardless
filled with books and thoughts and treasures and promises
breaths and magic and love
and I swallow my heart.

There's a play script or two on my bed there;
I know where to go.

I run to your room. I take deep breaths until my heart rate slows.

it's okay. You're there.

I step inside and greet you.
We talk.
I avoid saying what I actually want to say,
I'll miss you. Thank you for making me not let the human part die,
because damn it that was a close one,
Please don't be too angry about Finley, and why are you looking at me like that? 

...Oh yeah. I'm odd...


Your opinion, for once in my life, didn't matter.
You were alone. I was alone.
Alone together.

There is, I think
a companionship
in being alone together, Schultz.

I didn't know what to give you
so I acted like I was then.

And even though I, like Kate,
have changed
tremendously
whenever I am lonely, whenever I haven't spoken in hours
or more than once

I close my eyes
and I'm back in your room again
talking to you while you stare at me, trying to will me away
like a fly

or I'm walking through the auditorium, touching the stained fabric
smelling the dust on the curtains
walking through the shop before anyone else is there, just looking at the ceiling
sitting in the costume shop pretending to sew

So I am thinking
if you miss that room
if you miss those moments
if you miss our stage
close your eyes
and find yourself there.


Close your eyes, my Hero,
and you'll be there.











You
are always there,
to me.

Wild: rough draft of research paper

The Bite of Popular Culture

Written by: Payton Thompson

English One

December Fifteenth, 2011

       Vampires have been the enthralling focus of mankind for centuries. There are few countries in the world that does not mention the Vampire in folklore, fewer still who have negated to bestow upon their Vampire with super-human traits. Most specifically, these traits are characteristics desired by the common man. As stated on the website simply-Supernatural, these traits, such Super speed and strength, eternal youth and vigor, flight, immunity to disease, and the ability to change their form at will; are desired by nearly every human.
       Simply put, the average person imagines Vampirism is a type of one-up-man-ship, the idea that the average man can surpass the skills of any other human. Vampires are a step above the best that man could be. Vampires are the perfection that humanity has spent their history trying to achieve.
       Vampires first became popular with the initial Publication of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. The book that began as a nightmare in the mind of the drunkard sparked off one of the largest cult followings in history up to that point. After all, in London at the time, the social scene was restrictive at best. As written in A Vampire in the Mirror: The sexuality of Dracula, Vampires were all about letting out the inner monster, taking what one wanted merely because one wanted it. The character Dracula was powerful and well-polished in addition to sexual and sleek. The culture had a collision with his or her own temptation, thus, Dracula was successful.

        Another idea for the popularity of the Vampire is his “otherness” (Vampire in the Mirror). While Vampires are rumored to maintain human traits, as mentioned on the website supernatural.com, they maintain a sense of otherness, which holds a sense of fascination (as well as repulsion) for man (Vampire in the Mirror). Humankind’s willingness to judge foreign beings adds to the mystery of the Vampire himself.

        Vampires are also believed to be unclean or “tainted”, which is an alluring ideal to the average person (Vampire in the Mirror).

Understanding evil has been a pursuit of man for centuries, and getting to know an immortal creature with a vicious past is nothing less than fascinating for humankind.

       To prove this, one most only examine the story of Dracula—in particular, Stoker’s continual references to color (Vampire in the mirror). Like in most stories, there is a definitive contrast between the vampire and the human characters. In Dracula, the Vampire is marked by his “whiteness” to remind the reader of his (Dracula’s) near-death characteristics (Vampire in the mirror). For example, Mina is described as pale far more often after the main Vampire in the story comes to her room and bites her. Another example of the importance of color are the scars on two character’s foreheads (Mina’s from a failed inoculation and Dracula’s from a blow by Jonathan Harker early in the novel), which arguably represent the traumatic difference between the human and Vampire cliques and psyches.

       Even the traditional gender roles are not entirely unchanged by the Vampire myth. For example, in Dracula, one notices that the main antagonist targets only the women to corrupt; even the details when Dracula attacks Mina suggest anything from Fellatio to Lactation (Vampire in the Mirror). Nothing, it seemed, was safe from the Vampire’s power.

       Indeed, the idea of the Vampire has not changed much since then. Everything from Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles to Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight series is flying off the shelves. Why? Is it still the idea of the abilities, the forbidden romance between the living and the dead, or is it something else entirely? Is it the lack of overt sexuality, or the promise of eternity? Is it the toxic idea that man can deny passing judgment on different types of beings and their culture? Is it that men want to be different?

Regardless of the reason, entire groups of people, such as the authors of the website supernatural.com, are devoted to the “truth” of the vampire myth.

        It could be argued that the younger generations of men have devoted themselves to inaccessible traits, such as the ones mentioned above. By binding themselves to the taboo, they themselves become a “forbidden” thing, and thus are able to feel empathy for the Vampire. Like the people at vampirewebsite.net, entire groups of people have devoted themselves to “proving” the existence of the Vampire; countless websites warning against their “bite” are just a click away. The danger of the Vampire, then, is commonly understood; so why do we link danger to sexuality?

       The answer lies in the character of the Vampire. Because man is so fascinated Vampirism, they are fooled by the romanticism of being bitten; transforming the horror of someone breaking into their homes and biting their skin with sharp teeth until it bleeds into an alluring and sexual idea (Vampire in the Mirror).

       For centuries, the romanticized myth of the Vampire has enthralled mankind, and will, by these facts, continue to do so in the future.

Bibliography

Periodical source:

Vampire in the Mirror: The Sexuality of Dracula originally published in 1988, written by John Allen Stevenson and published by PMLA.

Text Source:

Dracula originally published in 1897, written by Bram Stoker.

Web Source(s):

vampirewebsite.net available by search, author not stated.

Simplysupernatural.com, written by the SBI, copyrighted, published/created in 2008.

        

Wild: the new special

Today, I left work. I'd washed my uniform, I'd made people laugh, I'd talked and moved and swayed and not even a little bit of anger in my heart today.

Oh, my Miracle. My... miracle.

so I left. I was walking. My arms were bare. It was cold.

And I was at a cross walk, and there was a truck. I waited. Turning on that corner is a bitch.

The driver waved me across, shaking her head at my broad grin and moving shoulders---and I ran.






No, really.


I ran. I moved my legs, I moved my body crazy ways, I lifted my legs and ran and ran and ran. Vet? Keep running. Brush by someone walking with a grocery bag who eyes me crazily? Keep going. Culvers? Keep running. Grocery store? Your frozen section can't stop me.

I stop at the stop sign, gasping for air, look up at the sky and thank God to be alive.



I'm myself again.

Special

When Taylor had one of her first seizures--just before my Parents' divorce by a few years, I think--I wouldn't leave them alone. Was she all right yet? Was it gone? Could I eat something, because I hadn't had breakfast yet, and it was the most important meal of the day? Did she respond when I said this? What about this?

They kept shooing me away, and eventually they scorned me so heavily I just went into my room and sat on my bed, staring out the window.

I'll always remember that room. I'd gotten my own fairly recently, the walls were a washed and pale blue. My bed was against the left wall, my closet was on the right. There was a huge window. I could see the lagoon I ice-skated, fished and swam in; the lagoon whose smell I miss more than anything.

Once you've lived somewhere near water, you pick up the smell, but not just that. The feeling, too, of knowing your soul is sitting in it.

When you live near the water, your soul is always swimming.

It had flooded recently; pools were in-between the lagoon's edge (loaded with city-bought boulders I used to skip and do cartwheels on) and the edge of trees and bark that was our garden.

It didn't look like a garden.

It just looked dead.

It was that almost-dead time between summer and fall, where summer's trying to hold on, but fall's peeking through, like holes through nice wallpaper. Like clean air through cigarette smoke.

The lagoon, which I'll always love and always remember the almost-blue brown color--and the smell. I'll always remember that smell, like wild and magic and moving and dancing and singing and ugly. Ugly was at the edge, like frost on a leaf you forgot to rake, and I inhaled it.

I knew it. I breathed it.

I miss it. I'll always miss it.

Anyway, the window, which so fascinated me, and probably would today (seeing does that constantly), wasn't any good. 

So I picked up a book.

At the time, I rather hated books. Books were awful. Books were a prison to force things I didn't want to think about into my head. I'd much rather think up adventures where I was sailing on the oceans I'd never seen with a sword in my hand, or dancing in a ballroom with princes, or laughing as I danced in those city-planted tree groves that lined the lagoon, whispering to my fairies, talking to the ghosts on the island I couldn't get the courage to swim out to, plotting Gabi's escape from her parents, who obviously could never *really* understand her, catching frogs, rescuing baby turtles, dried in the sun, from the side of the road and throwing them back to water; watching them come back to life when the water hit them.

Water can give life--yes, I'll always remember that.

I was wild then. I miss that.

So I picked up a book. I hated books. Books were awful.

I can't remember exactly what I was--something about Santa Paws, Come home--and the cover had a dog with a wreath around his neck and a Santa hat. I touched it. It smelled like book fair. The front cover was a little rumpled on the bottom right corner.

I read it. I'd read before, but never really focused on it. Like I opened my eyes to the world, I opened my heart to the book. I didn't just fear for Santa Paws, who I knew and understood wasn't real, I wanted to save him myself. I wanted that boy to have his dog. I wanted the concert to go well.

I looked up. It felt like hours had passed; my little chest was huffed with the pride and effort of the thing.

"Payton?" Mom came in and sat on my bed. "She's okay."

I never forgot that book, and I'd went on an adventure despite the Cold. Oh, that stupid Cold. When you're a particularly wild child who climbs trees, understands adult jokes, who runs as far as she can just to feel the air on her face; that child, yes, for that child, Cold kills everything.

I'd defeated it.

That was how I found books. I haven't set them down since. Words have power. Words can help us escape. I've forgotten that for a time, I've taken that for granted.

So, my friends, excuse me.

I have a world to find.


Perhaps someday, I'll even find a book that smells like a Lagoon, or shines like the moon in my heart, or makes me happy as Katie does.



Anything's possible when I am wild....



and it's certainly, absolutely and utterly, truer than the flag of England, time I was.