So, yeah. It's just a picture I was messing around with the other day. I spent all of five minutes working on it, so no judging, or whatever.

 Okay, this isn't anything special... I'd just like to post some pictures that I've taken around where I live. (I hail from Missouri.) So... yeah. 



( Picture time? )

Okay, I just finished an awesome, pretty dang good book called Jump The Cracks by Stacy DeKeyser. I won't be able to sum up it's wholesome goodness in the feeble attempt at a summary, but this is what you need to know: fifteen-year-old Victoria was scared for this little boy's safety after watching his mother basically man-handle him. So she snatches him after he was left in the train's bathroom. They travel across states and outwit policemen, but the main conflict of the story is her promises that she made to him. The promise of not letting him fall through the cracks.

The boy (the name Victoria gave him was Wills, a.k.a., William, but his real name is Danny) was only two years old, but he was from a place full of...well, cracks. He had bruises from being tossed around by his mother, but it was explained that it wasn't really her fault. The mother (Sandra Jean) was raised like that, so she knew no different. It was all about the cycle of harsh upbringings. Victoria didn't want Wills to grow up like that. In the end of the story—which wasn't fully cleared up, darn it—she basically stopped him from falling through the cracks.

And so this got me thinking, y'know? (Which is never a good thing.) What if we all have these so called cracks in our lives? And I'm not only talking about the big stuff, but the small little things as well. It's these moments where we all have to make a split decision, not knowing if it's the right one or not. And having to pay for the consequences later, good or bad.

Have I jumped the cracks?

Have I at least been faced with the decision, none right or wrong, but both with very different outcomes? We all have choices—I'm not talking about stealing babies—but choices that affect how we live. A moment to do complete good or evil. These are the events that we've been dealt. I'm not saying I've had the worst of childhoods, but I'll admit that it's been pretty rough. But were the choices made, either by me or outside forces, the right ones?

For the most part, yeah, I think so. I mean, there's no way to have known what would have happened if we didn't walk the path we were on at the moment, but isn't that how it always is? Not knowing? There has to be a book out there somehow related to that.

So in conclusion of this very long and probably unnecessary post, the feeling of...something (quite descriptive, if I do say so myself) that I've always had now has a name, a proper way of summoning it up into words. Falling through the cracks. Is it just me, or does it sound poetic?

Not as much as jumping the cracks does.

(...Couldn't help it. Now leave before my dignity fails me any more.)

 Since I'm made of fail, these were the icons that were for FF20in20 contest that never got posted. -_- But, I still wanted to post them here anyways.



{Teasers}
      

-dances- Thank OCValkyrie  for the edited background! Isn't it awesome? And now that my page no longer has cobwebs, I shall be determined to keep it that way!

NaNoWriMo went well, I suppose. Any fellow Nanoers out there that didn't finish? That did? I'm among the group that actually did--50,849, at that!--and congrats on anyone who even attempted it! You're all winners!/fail at trying to be supportive.

It's the first of November! I can't believe it! It's already here!

 

NaNoWriMo! 

I may have gotten in over my head, and I'll have many sleepless nights, but it's going to be so much fun!

Here's my plot-line, if you wanna read. 

“She didn't know her parents and brother. Without them, she didn't know herself.”

The nameless teenager is thus stuck with her Feminist of an aunt who can't hold down a job. Finally making a full circle around the U.S. and back to the beginning of her story, she faces things she's never questioned before. Is she who she thinks she is? Who can she be, when every time she changes her name her personality is drastically altered, too? With her friends and maybe-more-than-friend trying to keep up with her, she has to give up her lifelines and clean up her messy act.

“When she wants to be herself, she doesn't know who that is.”

So, that's it! Time to start cracking!

I don't even know if it's counted as a song. My school previewed a play today--which was pretty good--but the one line that I can't get out of my head is, "Foooood~! Glorious fooooood~!"

Dear god, help me.

I officially think I'm going to start making an effort to keep my profile from rusting. And wilting.

So, here's a few teaser lines--I guess that's what they are-- of some future stories of mine.

Help, chapter 2. "His tone is not one of sympathy. His words are said in a rush, like he is talking to someone completely incompetent and incapable of understanding the words flowing from his mouth. He does not have the decency to even look her in the eye as he tells her he is letting her die."

Remembering, chapter 1. "She takes in all the facts that she knows. I do not know my name. I do not have any memories. I do not know where I am. I do not know what to do now."


In a few weeks, I'm going to post a butt-load of pictures on here. So, yeah, be prepared. :P

 Despite popular belief, I am not dead. I was just caught up on other stuff. But, anyways, I'm baaack!

And, so here's my second prompt, 'Help.' So, yay, and stuff.

 

 

( Read more... )


~~ So, there it is.