everything's gonna be okay.

Once upon a time, there was a girl who wished to deviate from her usual routine of blogging about things that bothered her in the back of her mind.  She decided that for today she would post from her past, to show how much she had grown emotionally in the past year.  She had been browsing through old saved documents of hers and she found some of them hilarious and some not so much.  The following are a collection of excerpts from some of her works, both fiction and blogging-type documents alike.

Number One: Prologue from My Sixteenth Year, story started on November 21, 2009.

You never know what you have until it’s gone.

I have yet to hear a sentence that is more true to my life. Looking back on the years of my life there are very few events that stand out prominently. But the one year I will never forget, is the year I was sixteen. It’s hard not to remember everything that happened. Once upon a time I wasn’t sure why that was the case, but then I came to a conclusion.

I remember everything I did and everything that bothered me and everything that happened that year because you were there. Ever since my sixteenth birthday you were there, and you taught me so many things about life. I learnt what to let go, and what to fight for. I learnt what was important and what should just be left in the past. But most importantly, I learned how to be a better person. And I owe everything I learned that year to you.

You made the difference in my life, even if you never realize it. I never fully realized it until later, when it was too late to tell you how much you meant to me. But I have the opportunity to let my, our, story be told for everyone to read.

There are few things that I will always remember, but I will always remember you.

This story never really got past the prologue.  I wanted it to be a reflection of events that I was going through in my life at the time, as well as a re-write of a previous story I had been writing.  I never continued writing it though because I didn't have the time nor the motivation to continue writing.

Number Two: Taken from Random Paragraphs for Use in Stories

There are very few things I can compare to the joy of discovering a new friend.  There are also very few things that compare to the pain of the eventual loss of said friend.  I’ve had the unfortunate privilege of experiencing these two very different emotions many times so far in my life.  I’m not even sure why it happens.  All I know is that I really wasn’t looking to go through the whole process again.  I was happy with what I had and keeping my distance.  I wasn’t looking for anything else.  That is until I met you. 

I remember exactly who I wrote this about.  A person I thought could be a good friend to me, and actually turned out to be not that great of a friend at all.  I'll admit I was naive, and I was lonely at the time.  I let my guard down far too easily and I got burned.  It happens, but it took me a long time to realize that it isn't the end of the world to lose someone and that sometimes, people will betray you.  Consider the lesson learned.

Number Three: Once again taken from Random Paragraphs for Use in Stories

The keys moved effortlessly under his fingers, the notes flowing flawlessly even as I watched with held breath.  Every sound ringed pure and clean.  The melody was beautiful, haunting.  I could feel his pain traveling from his fingertips into his work, heartache and loss expressed equally.  As the sound faded away, I found myself wiping wetness from my eyes.  I couldn’t remember when I had started crying.

I'm not entirely sure what the inspiration was in writing this one.  I was probably upset about something but to be honest I think the real reason I wrote it was that I had found a piece that I truly enjoyed playing and I thought of an idea to write a story about a musician with a dark secret.  Secrets are kind of my writing go-to when I need inspiration hahah.  I think that could of at least been a rather decent short story if I used it.

Number Four: Taken from Silence, a short story

There’s something to be said about silence. For many people silence is a bad thing, requiring some noise to drown out the echoes. It’s true what they say – silence is deafening. It infects your every pore, settling over you, and making you think about all the things you may not have wished to think about previously.

Personally, I don’t mind the silence. I enjoy thinking about those difficult topics which bring me sadness, or those I do not like to think about because maybe they aren’t so true and rather are just imaginations of my head. Silence brings sadness, and sometimes sadness is the perfect cure to a depression. Sadness makes everything that much more real and tangible, and you can feel everything so much clearer.

Silence allows me to think about conversations I’ve had, and wonder whether I said the right word, if I got my point across, or if I should have done something differently. Almost every time I realize some other idea I should have said. Thinking about these kinds of things in silence has made me realize that I am not a very good cheerleader on command. Give me even a few more minutes to step back from the situation and assess what the right thing to do would be, and I can find it. But in the heat of the moment, when someone truly needs cheering up, I often stutter (not literally of course, rather a stuttering in thought).

I was reflecting on myself in those paragraphs.  I was wondering why I never seem to be able to come up with the right thing to say until way after the conversation is over and it's too late.  I was frustrated that I couldn't help people more.  I still struggle with that, but it's not as bad as it used to be. 

Number Five: Excerpt from January 13th, 2010, a collection of random thoughts

I was asked why I don’t trust anyone.  Well I ask you, would you trust anyone if you knew that they would leave eventually?  Would you honestly put yourself out there, knowing that in the end you would be hurt?  And it’s not like it just happened once, or a couple times.  No, it’s everyone ever since you were little.  Could you really allow yourself to open up again?

Yep, that document was full of super depressing material.  Seriously, it's disturbing all the things I wrote.  I would be tempted to say that it looked really dramatic, but at the time I was incredibly depressed.  I guess I never really sat back long enough to evaluate my life and realize I was in a downward spiral at the time.  The winter depression usually hits, but this year I'm actually pretty good.  I'm happy!

Number Six: Excerpt from Chapter One of Through These Eyes

“How is your writing going Charlotte?” Mr. Ellsworth asked, leaning over my shoulder to read what I had written so far. I sighed and put my pencil down. He was always interrupting me just when I finally had inspiration to write.

“It’s going well sir,” I replied, more courteous than honest.

“Interesting topic,” he commented, looking at me over the top of his glasses. “You really believe that your life changed on the school bus?”

“Yes sir, I firmly believe that had I not gotten on the bus that day my life would be completely different,” I said, not backing down from his challenge. Mr. Ellsworth liked to try and prove you wrong all the time, no matter whether you were right or not. The trick was to tell him that you believed in what you were saying and he would back off.

“Well, I bet you will find that there are many people that disagree with you,” he said simply, already having turned his back to critique someone else. I sighed again. There was no pleasing him.

I looked down at the small paragraph I had written. The school bus was the first thing that popped into my head. It wasn’t my fault Mr. Ellsworth was a horrible English teacher that liked to give writing assignments with the weirdest topics. Today’s topic was “What event marked the biggest change in your life?” and for most of the class I had been at a loss. I could think of several events that affected me deeply, but none that I wished to share with him or anyone else. The school bus was the first thing I thought of that I could write about with a light heart.

I glanced at the clock. Only three more minutes until the final bell would ring. I packed up my books and pencils and stared at the door until finally the bell rang. Thankfully, my locker was close to the English room so I didn’t have to travel the busy halls. I spun my combination and stowed everything on the top shelf before grabbing my backpack.

This one could still be a good story if I ever feel like picking it up again.  It was a reflection of real events that were happening in my life, but not entirely.  I've heard that good authors can put aside their personal life and write a good story out of their head, but for me I find that my best works come from personal inspiration and when I have the proper mood to write.  That's probably why none of my stories ever get finished!

Number Seven: Excerpt taken from Smile, a collection of random musings

His smile was so inviting.  That’s what you remember.  When all the other memories blurred together, you never forgot his smile.  It was the thing that alerted you that everything was okay and you weren’t being rejected.  His eyes were kind, and his actions even kinder.  Everything he did that night made you fall even further, as though you hadn’t fallen far enough already.  You had absolutely no control over your actions that night.  The fact that you were a little bit intoxicated probably didn’t help either. 

Hahah before you wonder what I was on about there, this is one of the few writings that do not have to do with my life.  I was trying out different perspectives and this was just one of the many that I was testing out.  The hopeless boy-crazy teenage girl, like the ones that post a million Facebook statuses about their feelings in a not-so-secretive way.

That's all I really have to share with you.  Most of my other fiction works were posted on various websites, but those are just some of the ones that no one but myself have ever read.  I find them amusing to read now.

- Lo