"I have a song stuck in my head." "What song?" "I can't, tell you, the lyrics. Ahem."

I wrote over a thousand words today! I feel like a writer! Funny how as soon as Dulamon got Kael alone the story just whirred right along.  

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go make Jole insecure and mess with Jennet's head. It's a hard job, but someone needs to do it. :D

"Do not go gentle into that good night/ Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
-Dylan Thomas

I keep seeing news clips about the new Watchmen film, so I thought I'd go to the library and see if I could find the graphic novel. The plus side of the hard copy, also, is that you can put it down and walk away if needed. And given the nature of the news clips I've been seeing, that would probably be needed. HELLOOOO, DARKNESS AND DEPRAVITY. Ahem. Anyhow, the novel wasn't at the library, but I did find a Daredevil collection, and scanned through it. Of course, just the same as when I was 16 and reading anything I could put my hands on so long as it looked easy, it left me feeling rather like I had been punched in the stomach. 

I'm not really sure if that's the normal reaction to modern graphic novels, or if other people can read them with sweetness and light moods intact- but I sure can't. However, this time, I decided that since I am now in my second decade, I should try and figure out why certain scenes were so gut-churningly awful. This time, I think I've figured it out. 

If the future is mutable, if we are self determinate, then every death is necessarily a tragic, infuriating waste. There are always other options, and death is the ultimate case of squandered potential. Look at this broken body; this was a man, with thoughts and dreams and hopes and a chance for happiness, and it was all taken from him. Betrayal becomes even more intolerable, because of what could have happened. Moreover, these novels thrive off of taking everything to a higher level. People's lives are generally stolen from them in particularly eye-catching fashion. There are more betrayals, more (pointless) deaths, more squandered lives to mock you and your rainbow-coloured hopes. And these things generally happen to, around, and as a result of, the people who are supposed to be the heros, the best of us. Look, this is the best person you can hope to be, and his life isn't any better than yours, at all. The underlying point to drive into your skull is that death is the final insult, and any attempt to look at it in other ways is simply ignoring the truth of the matter and deluding yourself. Our deaths are all wasted.

It is an almost breathtaking logic, given artistic expression.

However. If one starts from a different premise- that the future is fixed, then there is no such thing as a life cut short. All lives, short or long, agonizing or blissful, are exactly the way they were intended to be. That doesn't mean that I can't rage at death, but the shocking pointlessness of it is gone. 

Yes, I know I take comfort in strange things. No one put a gun to your head and forced you to read my rant.

"That's what eyelids are for. You close 'em."

Gah, why am I so brain dead? It's not as though I'm tired out from DOING anything, basically my life consists of eating, sleeping, washing dishes and staring at the wall. But whenever I try to write I just can't think! 

*bites things in frustration*

I don't know what I was on in November, but I need another dose. It was just nothing to sit down and pour out two thousand words at a time. Now I'm in the state of painfully eaking out a hundred, or two hundred words at a time. This, of course, means that I can't finish a scene in one sitting, so I have to cry and cram my head back into what everyone is doing every time I sit down to try and write. In addition to the pure technical difficult of the fact that I can't find the words, half the time, and the other half I can't connect to my whatever it is I'm doing. *mutters angrily* 

Maybe I need to write a fight scene. Or torture, that's good. *sigh* Or, maybe I'm just in that state of mind where nothing goes QUITE right, and I'm satisfied with ALMOST nothing. That's probably the actual fact of the matter. Okay, I'm off to try again to utterly humiliate Kael.

"Let us cleanse this force with fire/ strike the fool who leads the liar."

I've been really incoherent and uninspired lately, so I decided to try and remedy that with a short story. And, here it is! (By the way, my title is a quote from Heather Dale and has nothing to do with the story.) Keep in mind, please, if you read this, that this is a FIRST draft. So any suggestions about how to make it better would be greatly appreciated. Especially the ending. I know it fails. Comment and tell me what to work on!

---

[story removed due to lack of comments.]
^_^

No one's on the internet for me to rant at!

So I'll put it here. Ahem. NBC is starting a show in the spring that they CLAIM is based on the (biblical) story of David and Saul. Only, as you may have noticed from my tone, to my way of thinking it doesn't really look biblically accurate. Now, it still could be good. There are some rather interesting premises advanced on the side and sub sites. But it would be highly annoying if church groups get behind this and start touting it about as a biblical show. *deep breath* 

That's all. 

"Nobody's gonna come and save you/ we pulled too many false alarms..."

I tried to write a fun short story yesterday, and it surprised me by going really dark and profane. Obviously, my mental state is not really stellar at this point. My coherence also took a big hit in the past month, and it's trickling back only slowly. This has lead me to a realization. 

I'm going to have to work at this. 

*gasps* I know, work? Isn't writing, like all art, supposed to just be instinctual and easy? And if you believe that, I have a bridge you might be interested in. Ahem. 

Anyhow, I'm obviously leaning towards the bitter and profane side of life. So in counter, I'm going to try and write a happy, clean, jolly little short story. About a holdup. Heh heh heh. Okay, that's not so far gone, but I have to ease into this happy world. :D Wish me luck!