ninja word skills (poem)

I’ve crept into your very being.
I have turned you on at your elemental depths.
I know you, as you’ll never know yourself.
I have been there.
I have wrapped myself around your brain,
flirted with your heart and been into the darkest reaches of your body.
I’ve brought you joy and passion,
excitement,
and lust.
I’ve felt your fear,
I have created your despair.
I have reveled in your heart breaks and started that first hint of hope.
I am your dreams.

,
I will creep into your very soul.
Stealthy and hidden, unseen and unheard.
Melding into the background you’ll never notice as I

Entrance.
it weaves inside. A whispered word, and offhand comment

Enthrall.
wrapping slowly and intrinsically around your being, leaving you thinking… thinking.

Excite.
your heart pounds, your blood rushes… you tingle as the electricity that makes up your molecules responds.




I am
Ninja Word Skills


And without me you’d never know the passion and love of reading or writing. I am everything that makes you human. Hidden, unused, unseen and unknown. Feared yet revered. Expand your horizons. Embrace the cultures. Use words like seasoning, often and exotic.

Updates (and venting)

Lets see.... I'm still waiting to hear from NMSU about financial aid, but I have started really looking into the whole traveling abroad to learn Spanish. I began looking at attending school in Mexico City for the Spanish Immersion program, as well as potentially trying to attend classes there (under scholarship to attend for free). Now, 1/3 of my family is indifferent to this idea as they feel it is just another one of my random "oooh! shiny" impulse moments. The other 1/3 is hesitantly suggesting that it might be a semi-decent idea if I don't get shot or killed. The other 1/3 is completely and utterly opposed to the idea to go so far as to get in my face and make me cry over it. Now I am not a big crier by any means. And I will say there are very valid points and concerns BUT I still feel that regardless of those one should not act the way they acted upon this idea. As for those of you who know me, I love a challenge and to get in my face and say "I challenge you to go. Because you will get there and come running home in a week if you aren't gang raped multiple times and sold"... Is the surest way I know to get me to move to fucking Mexico. I was so upset and hurt over this. I have considered the risks and HAVE not made any decisions yet. But I do not feel it is EVER okay to get in someones face like that. If you have valid concerns and fears sit down and address them with me. Show me the data, don't post the crap in a passive aggressive manner publicly all over facebook after getting in my face and saying very cruel, inappropriate comments. I have plans, and I am very methodological when I put my mind to it. Trust me to do my research, evaluate my options and weigh my choices before I make any decision. Respect that I am an adult and I can live my life how I want to... and you getting in my face and challenging me, calling me names, informing me that I am just asking for it... You have no right. I don't care how much a part of my life you are, how much you have contributed to the raising of me. My parents don't even pull that crap so why should you get that right? I am a person, and I have made mistakes but I would like to think that your input in raising me has contributed enough common sense that I wont run off half-cocked. UNTIL you challenge me. Then that is a different story, because upon a challenge all thought goes out the window. Argh. I really don't want to get too much into this.. but I did want to vent and just say, Guess what, I'm still considering it. Love ya.

Free Writes

Visiting Author Free Write

5 tangible things

Walking Out-

My emotional feeling that I’m trying to describe is relief leading to joy. Contentment, being assured and happy. This is in regards to my divorce. It is the feelings I felt when I was finally holding my divorce papers. It was the feeling I felt walking out that night. And not looking back. It was the feeling I have knowing that in May I’m walking out of this life and into a new one. I’m going to pack my shit, load it up and drive for 3 hours. I’m going to start all over again. A new city. A new college. A new home. I already have the new boyfriend. Not the same thing as a husband, not by any means but it is still something new. A new experience. I never would have thought it was supposed to be like this. The feelings of his arms wrapped around me. Laying in bed with him on a lazy morning. Holding the keys to my new place that we picked out. My place. Not his. Mine. Sitting in my car, with the moving boxes piled in the back, and my dogs on the seat next to me. Driving. Along that long stretch of road I’m driving and it is relief. I’m free. I’m happy. I’m walking out of my old life, walking out of this dead skin. Almost like a butterfly. I knew things weren’t going the way I wanted them to, so instead of doing something about it I just let it fester. Finally, wrapped up in my cocoon came the day I was able to start over. I walked out. I asked my question, got my answer and was relieved. It made things so much easier.

“I need a yes or no answer, no more of this I don’t know crap. Either yes you want to be with me and make this work, you want to do whatever it takes, counseling again, talking, whatever. Or no you don’t want to be with me and you are done. Which is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know. That isn’t an answer, either yes or no.”

“I don’t know what I want, I don’t know if I want to be with you, I don’t know if I want to make this work”

“Well I guess that’s my answer. Then we are done. I’ll pack my shit and be gone.”

Silence. He stood there. I stood there. Then he nodded. Turned and went off to play video games with his brother. I stood there. In our master bedroom. Alone. Looking at the new carpet we just put in, the new paint on the walls. The new tile for the bathroom. All along I knew it was breaking, ruined. I tried to fix it, I tried to do the adult thing, counseling, talking, bending until I broke. The only thing that seemed to work was slapping some artificial materialistic bandages, new cosmetic things. I looked around once more. Laughed quietly. I grabbed my backpack tossed in my toothbrush ,contacts and cell phone. Took one last look around and shouted, I’ll get my dogs tomorrow. And I walked out.

I want to run, to just go. To fly.

Free Write

02.04.2010

Prompt:

“after a while I went out and left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain”

It was early evening and I could hear the soft sounds of people in their homes getting ready for supper, a TV there, a child’s laugh in that home, a woman’s shout for her children, or maybe a dog. Delicious scents of the living tainted the air, mixing smells with the clean fresh scent of a new beginning, of sins hidden in the gentle rain. It was cool, not cold, a good temperature. The rain was drizzling down, cooling the evening at the same pace of the sunset. I’d sat in that hospital for days. I watched, and waited. And when it finally became clear what I needed to do, I left. I have nothing more to wait for. I will go to the hotel, just a few blocks from the hospital. Walk through the cobblestone lined streets, past the shade trees and iron lamp posts. I will walk into the beautiful courtyard, set with the rod iron outdoor benches, the koi pond, and the huge weeping willow. Into the tastefully decorated lobby, where the young desk keep waits discreetly to check in new guests. I will nod in acknowledgement to his softly murmured greeting. Keep going, talking the stairs, its only two flights. I will slide the key into the door, not one of those new fangled electronic door, rather an old fashioned brass key. Listen to the soft click, I will push it open. Finally. I walk to the bed. My bag is packed. It’s been packed for days. I light my cigarette, going to the window. Take a deep inhale, eyes closed, tasting the tobacco mixed with the rain scented air of a faraway place. It could be a dream I think to myself. I could just lie on the bed, and wake up in the morning, telling myself, it was a dream. Then instead of grabbing my bag and freedom, I can go to the hospital like I have every day of this duty, I can continue on pretending. It wont be hard. That’s all it was for the last few years anyway. A game of pretend. Another deep breath. I shudder as I exhale. I flick my cigarette out the window, not bothering to close the balcony doors behind me, letting the cooling air flirt through the sheer curtains. I grab my bag, without a look behind me I shut the door and start down the stairs. Into the street I walk, just my one bag and myself. I don’t bother to look around. I know where I’m going now. I have nothing else left and no one else to turn to. Who would take me in? I’ve changed everything for this game of pretend. No one left to recognize me, no one left alive, I have no other choice. In order to really make a difference, in order to really move past this point I have to accept who I am, all of my talents, despite the fact the only thing I’ve been talented in is death and lies. The demand of acceptance, of acknowledging the talents as my own choices, no forced by a debt of ownership, the gift of freedom, was the last whisper of the dying, in an exhaling breath, while the life was stolen the freedom was granted, in that dank hospital. With its well lit corridors to mask the shadows of death stealing the souls of the living all I hear is “Your debt is paid“.

Summarized:

1st person

Psychic distance is close, but with a zooming in.

‘Pathetic fallacy’ - john Ruskin : is when the exterior world conveys the emotion of the character

Shift in verb tense present to future to present, dynamic manipulation of time, cinematographic… architecture beyond realm of story.

Voice has resolve.

I want to run, to just go. To fly.

Free Write

02.04.2010

Prompt:

“after a while I went out and left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain”

It was early evening and I could hear the soft sounds of people in their homes getting ready for supper, a TV there, a child’s laugh in that home, a woman’s shout for her children, or maybe a dog. Delicious scents of the living tainted the air, mixing smells with the clean fresh scent of a new beginning, of sins hidden in the gentle rain. It was cool, not cold, a good temperature. The rain was drizzling down, cooling the evening at the same pace of the sunset. I’d sat in that hospital for days. I watched, and waited. And when it finally became clear what I needed to do, I left. I have nothing more to wait for. I will go to the hotel, just a few blocks from the hospital. Walk through the cobblestone lined streets, past the shade trees and iron lamp posts. I will walk into the beautiful courtyard, set with the rod iron outdoor benches, the koi pond, and the huge weeping willow. Into the tastefully decorated lobby, where the young desk keep waits discreetly to check in new guests. I will nod in acknowledgement to his softly murmured greeting. Keep going, talking the stairs, its only two flights. I will slide the key into the door, not one of those new fangled electronic door, rather an old fashioned brass key. Listen to the soft click, I will push it open. Finally. I walk to the bed. My bag is packed. It’s been packed for days. I light my cigarette, going to the window. Take a deep inhale, eyes closed, tasting the tobacco mixed with the rain scented air of a faraway place. It could be a dream I think to myself. I could just lie on the bed, and wake up in the morning, telling myself, it was a dream. Then instead of grabbing my bag and freedom, I can go to the hospital like I have every day of this duty, I can continue on pretending. It wont be hard. That’s all it was for the last few years anyway. A game of pretend. Another deep breath. I shudder as I exhale. I flick my cigarette out the window, not bothering to close the balcony doors behind me, letting the cooling air flirt through the sheer curtains. I grab my bag, without a look behind me I shut the door and start down the stairs. Into the street I walk, just my one bag and myself. I don’t bother to look around. I know where I’m going now. I have nothing else left and no one else to turn to. Who would take me in? I’ve changed everything for this game of pretend. No one left to recognize me, no one left alive, I have no other choice. In order to really make a difference, in order to really move past this point I have to accept who I am, all of my talents, despite the fact the only thing I’ve been talented in is death and lies. The demand of acceptance, of acknowledging the talents as my own choices, no forced by a debt of ownership, the gift of freedom, was the last whisper of the dying, in an exhaling breath, while the life was stolen the freedom was granted, in that dank hospital. With its well lit corridors to mask the shadows of death stealing the souls of the living all I hear is “Your debt is paid“.

Summarized:

1st person

Psychic distance is close, but with a zooming in.

‘Pathetic fallacy’ - john Ruskin : is when the exterior world conveys the emotion of the character

Shift in verb tense present to future to present, dynamic manipulation of time, cinematographic… architecture beyond realm of story.

Voice has resolve.

Past Musings

January 28th, 2010

Free Write

Prompt: It was a lousy night. That was ok, we were not good people.

Feeling creative today! Yay!!!

It was a lousy night, that was ok, we were not good people. It was the same old shit. Dark, dirty alleys that led to dank warehouses, bums sleeping, whores working. We kept looking. Some nights we found it, some nights we didn’t. Would tonight be the lucky night? It had been calling. The voice was so loud it could practically be heard by everyone. We tried to block it out but we couldn’t any more. No matter what we did we always ended up in this damn alley looking. Waiting. And then the inevitable happened. It arrives. Either alone, or with a group. Doesn’t matter. One of us is always the first to engage it. Our group, a fantastic fucking group of misfits. Who would have thought that we would be the ones to be called? That we would hear the call and answer. Every single time. I wouldn’t talk to half the scum in this group anywhere. We all had pasts. That wasn’t a lie. In fact half of us have done something somewhere that makes us worse than the people you find in the alleys. Rape, murder, theft, etc. It was par for the course to be in the group. But some how, when the nights were lousy, and the rest of the world was curled up under their covers hoping, and dreaming that the calls, the screams were just night mares we were the ones chosen to fight. We weren’t saviors, we weren’t playing at angels or even people trying to redeem ourselves. Fuck that shit. We just wanted an opportunity to live. And the only way we got that was to kill off the scum. The call happened. And we got the usual crew, but oddly, lately, we’ve been getting more and more help. It seems that our searches wouldn’t need to be done alone. In fact we have some people who look nice and normal. Good folks, the church going, raise a family types out here. But those people? Those fuckers are the craziest of us all. While half of us are just trying to survive they are “cleansing the earth”. I don’t get that shit man. And if I tell you the shit we see every single night. Every time this call comes. The people come and the people go. Most of the ones who go end up dead. So we keep coming. In fact, I’ve heard rumors that the ones who go don’t always stay dead, and I’ve heard the ones who keep coming, some of the older veterans in this bull shit survival war, the ones who manage to take down more than their share and end up with out a scratch, while I’ve heard they’ve got some mystic shit going on, personally I think it’s the crap they are hopped up on. I don’t know about that. I just know I’ve been off the streets for years now. And I don’t plan to go back. I like my life the way I built it up. I fought, I lied, I cheated and I have stolen. That wont stop now either. I’ll do what I have to do to keep on surviving, and if that means coming out every night. Every lousy night, with the damned from every aspect to keep on fighting, well I guess that means I’ll do it. Are you going to judge? Are you going to sit there in your nice house, hiding under your covers when the call comes? Or are you going to take a stand and do something about it? Can you hear it,? Make your move.

Updates

As my last "update" post I was letting the world know that my plans were to join the Air Force ROTC program to finish school. This was going to be feasible with a scholarships from NMSU and the scholarships with the ROTC to pay for my classes. I have been waiting roughly two months to see what my award would be from NMSU - and I'm still waiting. They haven't awarded me anything and they are unsure when/if/or what I will get from them. I have also been told that the ROTC program is in a "financial freeze" so that they can not take new students on and expect to have any financial aid to give them. "But they have all confidence that by the time I quit my job and move back to Las Cruces they should hopefully have money to give me some time in October".... which is great if you don't take into consideration that 1. I need to have the money to move, 2. Pay for my dorms 3. Pay for my classes 4. pay my bills and start school.... Doesn't seem like the the smartest choice to join up any more, right? So my new plan at the moment is to just wait. As difficult at that is for me (and boy oh boy am I NOT patient) I will just wait and see if I get any kind of financial aid. If I don't get any aid then I will continue with my desire to save money and travel. My first idea would be to go to Peru to see the Inca ruins Machu Picchu.... but I'm also seriously considering going to Guatemala and staying for 3 months while attending classes to learn Spanish... I will post more info on these ideas in the future... as I am just starting to explore the other potential options. I have done a lot of thinking (which it seems that it is all I do) and I have realized that working a job (mainly my families pizza place) part of the year and saving all my money to allow me to travel to some foreign country the rest of the time would really make me the happiest... So while I am waiting to see if I get any news from NMSU I will just bide my time and start looking at other options. Maybe actually write a bit, and work on my photography. ^^

Alyra

This is a scene I thought up a little while ago. I need to edit it and develop it a bit further, but I wanted to post something written.....


Bone deep weariness, its not even light out. Already muscles scream in fatigue, can’t hesitate. Keep pushing forward, never a moment to breathe. The trees whip past me in a blur, the browns of the earth blur with the green of the foliage. Shadows loom, each a possible menace, a hidden attack so far yet unseen. Dodging and weaving throughout the trees, leaping across rock to rock, not getting my feet wet as I flit over the stream. I’ve lost you, the whispers of your absence pursue me, faster and faster I flee. Never able to escape them… or am I trying to catch them? Suddenly, with the rising dawn I find myself here, surrounded by trees this perfectly, gorgeously, unnatural circle. Meadow? No, its to structured to be a meadow. Panting I stand there, waiting… with the dawn my answer comes. I stare out across the field, holding my breath I hear my heart drum in my chest, the blood pounding in my veins. I sway with breeze, barely able to stand when I finally gasp- movement. Is it? Can it be? Suddenly my heart picks up speed galloping out of my chest my hands are fisted at my sides as I squint against the suddenly bright morning. The figure, you? Looms closer and closer. Drawing a deep breath I close my eyes, trying to draw your familiar scent to me. Is it? When suddenly a sharp pain, I gasp, my eyes fly open. A blade burns from my gut, I crumple. Trying desperately to see the face of my attacker I stare up, and the face is eclipsed by the final rising of the sun.
Gasping I shoot out of bed. My heart is racing, I’m covered in sweat the sheets have been kicked off the bed. Panting I try to catch my breath. It is a dream, a dream, I have to keep reminding myself. He is gone, dead, no chance of reconciliation, or revenge…. he always were a fickle creature. Sleep gone, I climb out of bed. Feel the cool hardwood on my bare feet. It grounds me, drags more of me out of the dreams. I stumble to the kitchen, dragging my tea pot to the sink. As I fill it with water I look out the window. Just the tiniest hint of dawn approaches, the light pink and gold just barely visible over the crest. Frowning I stare at the sunrise.
“Mmmmm is that coffee?” Sienna asks. “Tea” I reply. “You are up early, dreams again?” “Yeah, same one.” “Maybe you should talk to someone Aly” Sienna urges. “Who? Who can I talk to about this? Just lay out on a couch for a shrink and tell them, ‘Well, you see I have been having these dreams, I run through a forest I have never seen, fleeing, or maybe chasing. And I get to a meadow and my dead lover, or so I think that is who it is crosses to me and stabs me, watching me bleed out?” “Well, maybe it would help! It’s better than you getting no sleep because of it.” Shaking my head, I hand her a mug as I turn back to the fridge to get the milk for my tea. “Not yet.”