Spilled Across The Pages 

Extinguish Wilde from my heart, eviscerate Poe from my veins.
Abate the very inspiration that inhabits my being and lay me to waste.
Eradicate the likes of Ellis from my flesh; loosen the noose of Palahniuk from my soul.
Render any and every trace useless and salvage the stolen spectacle.

Dissolve Dorian’s effect on my vanity, destroy the raven’s echoes, that dreaded and blasphemous heartbeat, in my skull.
Disintegrate Bateman’s grip on the darkest recesses of my mind, lurking just beneath the glass; deny Mr. Durden access to the strings that pull me forward, savoring the anarchy embedded somewhere deep.

Banish Bradbury’s hold on my memory; beckon the likes of King from my youth.
All that I hold sacred in my heart, the thoughts that will never seem to slow, can be traced back to that, the very first time I laid eyes on their blessed words.
Break the connection between Thompson and the rest of my functioning brain cells, burden Dante no more with matters that grip on the nearest part of my being.
Everything I’ve ever known, changed in an instant, the very second I held your beloved pages.

Sever the ties Mr. Dark has on my senses, the smell of Fall never being quite the same, but having twice the sting, strike Pennywise’s power from the recollection of my friends; the sixth grade has never been so dark.
Take away Duke’s influence from my pen, forced into a kind of seclusion is the caffeine-fueled creativity that has plagued me years over, tear that vision of a grotesquely-layered Hell the fuck apart, relinquished are the challenges that will not face any of us upon the hour of our death.

I am nothing without the written word, for it is my guide.
A beautiful legacy, spilled across the pages.
I am nothing without the written word, for it is my escape.
Take it away, and you might as well have put a gun to my head.

I am forever an addict.

© Copyright March 2015/August 2016

Organization Amongst The Chaos

After months of talking about it and countless minutes browsing around the furniture section at Target, (only to find it in the organization section of the store) I found exactly what I wanted.

A bookcase.

A black bookcase that fits almost perfectly on my desk. I say almost perfectly because it takes up the majority of the right side. Despite the fact it takes so much room, it’s a welcome piece of organizational beauty.

I can’t say that my desk was a mess before I purchased the bookcase, but I honestly can’t say that it was tidy either.

Going from left to right:

The framed black and silver scratch board portrait of Ville Valo I did Senior year…In front of the picture is a silver and white bank teller style lamp, a black spider web candle holder that holds sweat bands and bracelets I used to wear when I was twelve, a mug I made in my Art class Senior year (that someone else painted because I wasn’t there) holding a red Coke bottle and more bracelets, a glass skull candle holder where my Burt’s Bees lip balms are kept, and a clear glass block that holds my pens and markers.

My black pinstripe Dell laptop I somewhat received four years ago is in front of such items, along with a polar bear PEZ dispenser from the movie The Golden Compass I named Heisenbear (the only reason I bought it is because it’s a bear). A frosted candle holder (that’s actually used for candles), a pumpkin candle holder, a black and white rabbit whose pattern resembles that of a Ladybug, and a clown named Jared that used to be on the top shelf of my locker in the 8th grade.

An Aspen Matthews figure from the comic book Fathom, another glass candle holder, the fist stack of books I own (ones I’ve already read), a black glass block, harboring miscellaneous items, including my Aviator sunglasses and a bookmark I recently unearthed from when I was in Kindergarten. A Vera Bradley coin purse I received for Christmas two years ago, a gold three-tier candle holder, a black picture frame holding two pictures taken on prom night…In front of it a Lego Eiffel Tower my brother made me, a black iPod speaker, a light Jade colored vase with Koi fish as handles, keeping a paper fan and multiple business cards for the same tattoo shop safe…Lastly, a Jack Skellington jewelry box a friend of mine gave to me for Christmas one year, supporting the second stack of books I own (the ones I haven’t read yet).

All 42 books (yes, I bought three new books a couple of weeks ago at the bookstore), now reside on the four shelves of my new bookcase, with the exception of a poetry book a friend gave me Sophomore year, Edgar Allen Poe and Stephenie Meyer. Those six books are placed on top of said bookcase, my Jack Skellington jewelry box is balanced atop the assorted poetry and Poe, while Meyer’s saga is under the protection of Dean, a Beagle stuffed animal that I received after the accident I had at work two years ago.

The rest of the items I mentioned on my laundry-list of things are still on my desk, with the exception of a couple of items that fit perfectly in the free space of the bookcase.  My frosted candle holder and Aspen Matthews reside in the lower right shelf where one book stood alone, and next to that, under  Between a stack of alphabetized pieces and Stieg Larsson’s trilogy, is my black, white and green Vera Bradley coin purse. My Ladybug rabbit is nestled near smaller books on the upper left shelf, while the Lego Eiffel Tower and Heisenbear rest above…Everything is in a proper, organized place. I never thought I’d say that in regards to my desk.

From Bradbury, Ellis and Poe, to Larsson, Palahniuk and Thompson (and every author in between), the pieces of written word that I obsess over are finally arranged as such, and honestly, I’m feeling pretty good about it. I know it probably sounds lame, but it’s true. I feel better about sitting down at my desk to write now. I actually want to. I have more space. I don’t have to be afraid of the possibility of books falling over, or not having enough room to spread out. I’m comfortable sitting at my desk because everything is indeed organized…

It’s really the little things.

If only everything was this easy to organize.

Fahrenheit 36 (And Only Getting ‘Worse’)

Something tells me I’m not like ordinary girls. Normal girls hyperventilate over the newest fashion and everything shoes…Yes, I am stereotyping my own sex, but I could care less. The truth isn’t considered stereotypical…Where most females splurge on things of that nature, I find myself standing in an entirely different classification. I splurge on items of paper and bindings, consisting of thoughts and experiences by designers of the written word.

Books.

In June, I wrote that I had a number of books, my thoughts on what the world would be like without them and what I myself would do without them. Recently, I realized that I might have a slight obsession. Slight could possibly be an understatement. I stated that I had 31 books. That statement is now a flat-out lie. I now own 36.

36 books.

I’m seriously considering buying a book shelf like my mom has been saying I should for a while. Every time she walks into my bedroom, actually. What can I say? Books have been my safe haven since I was fourteen. Books were my escape from cruel assholes at school, whatever pressure breaking the glass that just happened to be my skin, anything and everything. Books were always there for me. Books and music. But we won’t go into music because I’ve made that obsession clear many times over again and I have no intention of stopping anytime soon.

Better cut to the chase before I become slightly distracted and go off topic.

The five books that I added to my grand collection are as follows:

Bret Easton Ellis’ The Rules of Attraction, his very first novel Less Than Zero and its sequel Imperial Bedrooms…I fell in love with Mr. Ellis’ unique style of writing when I first read American Psycho. It was one of the first stepping-stones in my incredible journey through the land of all things written. I remember reading it like it was yesterday. My fourteen year old mind couldn’t quite comprehend certain aspects of the novel, and wasn’t really shocked by the amount of violence. Now that I’m older, it’s more than safe to say that I understand every aspect and while some of the violence does make me cringe, I’m not shocked by any of it…What the hell does that say about me as a person?… I’ve been in love with his style and I don’t see that changing.

Hunter S. Thompson’s Hell’s Angels: The Strange And Terrible Saga Of The Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs, an interesting and brutal account of a year spent riding with the infamous Hell’s Angels M.C…I fell head-over-heels for Thompson’s trademark Gonzo journalism two years ago when I received Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas for Christmas. My adoration for his signature style only grew stronger when I read The Rum Diary this spring…Yes, as I said in the paragraph above about Mr. Ellis, the same can be said for Mr. Thompson and his style of writing. I don’t see myself falling out of love with his Gonzo journalism any time soon.

The last (not the absolute last) and only book I’ve finished so far, is one I found by accident. I know I say that I find some things by accident all the time, and it is a genuine accident every time. It’s not like I knew I would discover that Slipknot/Stone Sour lead singer Corey Taylor had written a book…Yes, you read right…I was surprised, extremely interested and seriously excited when I found that Mr. Taylor’s work, Seven Deadly Sins: Settling The Argument Between Born Bad And Damaged Good, was on Barnes & Noble’s website. I was searching the frontman because curiosity struck and I wondered what year he was born, (causing me to discover the existence of said book). I’d watched Slipknot’s video for their song “Snuff” for the first time, and was curious, yo. Yes, my inner Jesse Pinkman just came out. I apologize for the slight distraction.

I’d like to say that the same statements I made about Mr. Ellis and Mr. Thompson can also be said for Mr. Taylor, but they cannot. I had never read anything written by Mr. Taylor, with the exception of Slipknot and Stone Sour lyrics of course, but that’s different…Yes, lyrics are indeed words written but there is a difference between words written in a song and a 252 page book. Sure, the person writing both is the same but there is so much more to a person than the songs they play or the lyrics they write…

I could go on about how I came to listen to both Slipknot and Stone Sour and all that jazz, but that would make the post even longer than it is and I’d like to write an entire piece as oppose to lumping it in with a post that talks of said bands’ lead singer. It would just make sense and be a more beautiful thing.

…Now that I’ve established that I shall sooner or later write a post about Slipknot and Stone Sour (which I was actually thinking about writing anyway), I will continue with the topic at hand…I really think I have a problem sometimes, going off of topic and such…I was unsure what to expect when I began to read Seven Deadly Sins because this was Mr. Taylor’s first book and I think it’s safe to say no one knows what to expect when an author writes their first book…And what a great first book it was.

I know some people would be so bold to say that the only reason I purchased the book is because I’m a Slipknot and Stone Sour fan, which I am, but that isn’t the case. I’m always curious about other peoples’ thoughts/opinions on different topics and this is just an example of that. I won’t go into too much detail, but as the name suggests, it is about the Seven Deadly Sins, and Mr. Taylor’s view on how they are indeed not sins at all, but just a part of every human being. While I will say no more (concerning the content of the book), I will say this: I have a massive amount of respect for Mr. Taylor as a person. Seven Deadly Sins is the first book in a very long time, if not the first, to make me come close to crying my eyes out, while still making me laugh my ass off. It is by far the most refreshing piece I’ve read in a long time, and I’m seriously in love with Mr. Taylor’s brutal honesty and sharp wit, as well as his fearlessly uncensored accounts…Why can’t all writers be like that?

….

I do apologize.

….

I found myself distracted, watching Nine Inch Nails videos and Marilyn Manson interviews on YouTube, when I should be completing this post…In all honesty, Mr. Ellis, Mr. Thompson and Mr. Taylor are outstanding writers, each with their own style and venom. I’m unsure as to what else needs to be said. I can go on gushing all day about how I respect both Mr. Ellis and Mr. Thompson as writers, and Mr. Taylor as a musician and writer, but I don’t want to be repetitive. Not today. I do know, however, it’s definitely safe to say that I am not like ordinary girls, and that I indeed have an obsession with books, devouring and savoring every word, sentence and paragraph…And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Individuality is a dying breed…Don’t you think it’s time to revive it?

Fahrenheit 31

I have 31 books stacked up high on my desk in my bedroom. The collection varies, including the sparkling vampire saga that is Twilight (Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn), yes I got sucked into the teen sensation when I was seventeen, the intricately woven world of Lisbeth Salander in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo trilogy (The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played With Fire and The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet’s Nest) and a man’s quest to Hell and back that changed the world’s perception of the afterlife forever, Dante’s Inferno trilogy (Inferno, Purgatorio and Paradiso)…Oh what the hell, I might as well mention all the other books I own while I’m at it.

I own the following:  A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess,  American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis, Of Mice & Men by John Steinbeck,  Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk,  Dracula by Bram Stoker, Let The Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist, Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay, Ink Exchange by Melissa Marr, The Shadow Thieves by Anne Ursu, The Devil In The White City by Erik Larson, IT by Stephen King, Flowers + Filth and Prose & Poems by Wil Francis, Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas and The Rum Diary by Hunter S. Thompson, Most Loved Poems Of The American People, and Edgar Allen Poe: Complete Tales & Poems, not to mention the trilogies and saga I noted in the paragraph above.

The fact that I have a bunch of books isn’t really what’s important though. What is important is where would our society be without them?

You’re probably asking how  this question arose, and as always, I have an answer. I recently purchased three Ray Bradbury novels, The Illustrated Man, Fahrenheit 451 and Something Wicked This Way Comes. I’d read  Wicked when I was thirteen for a school project, and fell in love with it…Whenever I thought about the book in the past, I thought about my grandpa and it’s safe to say I still do. Despite the fact he himself never read the novel (as far as I know), it reminds me of him. My grandpa and the Fall season, along with everything the wonderful season brings. I began reading the novel in Autumn, when I would see him everyday after school, via the too-obvious connection, but I won’t go into too much right now because that’s not the subject at hand…Strangely, I had never read Fahrenheit 451 but it thought I would broaden my horizons. Plus it got awesome reviews, and come on, it’s Ray Bradbury. The story sounded oddly familiar, like one I had my freshmen year, but it was quite different as I read on.

If you aren’t familiar with 451, it tells of a futuristic world where it’s a fireman’s job to start fires instead of extinguish them, burning books, the written word banned by the government. The main character, a fireman who becomes conflicted with everything he thought he knew and all the things he discovers along the way. I won’t give anymore away, but the book had me thinking: Where would we as people be without books?

Being an avid reader since I was fourteen, I honestly don’t know where I would be without books. Books are a great way to pass the time, and depending on what you’re reading, can be a whole lot more entertaining than what’s on TV. They open the door to another world, introducing you to characters that while are fiction, are somehow strangely individuals we can all relate to. Without books, this world wouldn’t be as interesting. Without books, we wouldn’t expand our punctuation and grammar, something that is, believe it or not, pretty important. Without books, we wouldn’t be able to learn about the triumphs and tragedies this world has faced, and see how much we’ve evolved since. Without books, people just might become mindless drones that watch TV 24/7, unable to grasp the possibilities of the written word. Without books…I know for sure I wouldn’t enjoy a world like that.

Next time you pick up a book at your library or from your collection, ask yourself: Where would we be without books? The answer might just amaze.

The written word is your escape from the every day, a safe haven when your own world isn’t.

Fear & Loathing On The Creative Front 

It was back in November that I said I had to do a research paper on an author…Yes, it has been a while. I finally got the graded paper back in January, 3 months ago. I’m finally getting around to putting my hard work on display. Well, the cover page I made for the project at least.

I decided to only do one author for the paper instead of two because one was just easier and made all the more sense. I’m more than pleased with how the paper came out, and can’t get over how awesome the cover page looks. So without further delay, I present to you, the cover page for my research paper! (Which I should’ve posted 3 months ago!) 😦

Fear and Loathing…on the creative front.

Procrastination At Its Finest?

Procrastination. It’s completely normal. Almost like human nature. Almost, not quite yet. People become preoccupied with a hundred different things at once or something called laziness takes over and what needs to get done won’t be finished ’til the last-minute. Sadly, I have succumb to dreaded procrastination more than once, but for some reason I think that streak of surrendering is somehow coming to an end.

I’ll be completely honest: I’m not a big fan of research papers. The first research paper I had to do was last school year, and it wasn’t that fun. Being a new school year now, I have to do another required paper. Thankfully, this paper is easier and not due at the end of the year, as with the latter. There is a topic, not a thesis. An author, not an issue that we agree or disagree with.

Needless to say, this year’s research paper is on an author of our choosing or one that we were reading. Chosen by the student, nonetheless. It seemed like most people picked the first author that came to their head, like they didn’t really think about. Their brains just said ‘write down this name and pass the paper to the next person.’ I had no idea what author I would do a paper on. I had about five lined up, with obviously one being the victor. Unsure which author should be cut from my list, I chose two. Yeah, that probably sounds like a hassle or that I’m being a ‘teacher’s pet’ or something, but that’s not it at all. I thought the only way to get some kind of point across would be to do two papers on two completely different authors.

I have to admit, I was kind of surprised by the reactions I got when I was asked by fellow students what author I was doing my paper on. It’s not like the answer was different each time, it was the same every time. Dante Alighieri and Hunter S. Thompson. I got this bleak, almost dumbfounded look each and every time. Granted, I didn’t fully know about Dante until I saw something on the History Channel. I knew that he wrote Inferno, but didn’t know THAT much about him. As with Thompson, I didn’t know he wrote Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas until I saw the movie starring the beloved Johnny Depp. I did a little research after seeing the movie, thus finding even more about him. So, I guess I can’t really say that I’m surprised, but it sort of just shows that either I read too much or other people don’t read at all.

If anything really surprised me, though, it would have to be the fact that I’ve already gotten the majority of the information on my idols. Which isn’t something I usually do. For my previous research paper, I procrastinated and I felt like it wasn’t the best I could write, or write and research. I just flat-out wasn’t very happy with it, and I actually want to be happy with the things I write. Whether it be recreational creativity or not. The entire reason why I’m starting this paper a month early. Call it me breaking the curse of procrastination or not, but my motivation is probably at its best right now. I can’t say the same thing for volleyball, though. My motivation for that is still up in the air.

My motivation for writing definitely doesn’t lack foundation and the breakdown.