theredjaguars’s posterous

Today was an interesting day for me. I realized something I really hadn't taken into account before.

When I was looking at my Granfather's obituary, I thought about the day he passed away. I went over to his house not realizing he was still there. Walking into his room I saw him completely at peace. It was sort of scary at first, but it was almost like I never felt that. It was like it melted away once I realized he was somewhere better. He didn't have to feel pain or worry or any of the like. These are all very typical feelings when someone close to you passes on, the thing I didn't see was the effect of his life on others. It's obvious that like I said, these feelings of fear and saddness are all quite common but how long does that feeling last? Ultimately I think it depends on the person.

Looking at my Aunt who had become a reckless mess and my cousin who was just panic stricken, it seemed as if they had stepped out. Literally. As if a piece of them snapped and didn't know how to be put back together. Most of these pieces never go back, most mend, but some never heal at all. There are certain people that are so taken over by someone's loss that they feel that they will never be the same. I've been to a low point, maybe even close to that idea of low. When my Dad got into his accident, I wailed. Usually I am quite concious of everything around me and try not to throw my emotions out in front of people because it makes me vulnerable, but in this case it didn't matter. I was so terribly scared and felt as if a part of me had died. Screamed until I couldn't breathe and my face seemed as if it was going to explode. Nothing at that point mattered. I didn't matter. I was surprised that I ever sat back up. I'm surprised that I'm still sitting up. I constantly wonder if I'm on the edge of utter insanity in a mix of reality and dream. I get caught in a debate with myself on if I am sleeping. I wonder if I pinch myself hard enough, will I really feel it, and if I do what comes with that.

I can tell you what comes with that...strength. This incredible strength not only for you but for someone else. You start to build up, not an immunity, but a greater sense of heart. It's like in 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas', your heart grows ten sizes that day. At the time you are feeling at your worst you can't possibly see any good, you're not supposed to. If you did how would you ever learn anything? How would you ever build anything up? You have to pull yourself up, not just for the person you love but for yourself. You affected so deeply by the loss because that person was/is a huge part of you and will always be. Turn that into something that keeps your hope alive, and keeps a tiny fire lit just for them inside of your soul.

That's how I know someone means a lot to me. If I can get through it, and still carry them with me without loosing my mind. People sometimes are so important to other people. It's like they are the glue that keeps certain things about you together, but remember glue eventually wears off. But only you have the strength to keep it strong with you. Even if these people are gone, or are temporarily away keep them with you. There are so few people in our lives that we get this emotionally torn up over. And I'm talking real emotional pain, you will know it when you feel it. It's something that lasts longer than a month, it's something that gradually tones down but still comes up time and again.

So just remember...when you fall apart? Whose going to fall with you?

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Missy just stood there. Her eyes fixed on the horizon. There were a few ways to go about this but none of them were right. She tugged at her ponytail then continued on walking.

Zachariah slipped his shoes off and sunk into bed. The room was cool, the breeze coming in through his window catching the papers on his desk. He felt a slight tinge of satisfaction but didn't care.

Amy was just about as translucent as she felt she was. She looked over the counter to find someone sleeping on the desk. As Amy went to grab the envelope out of her bag she heard a crash.

Tyler took the hit and fell to the floor. When he walked through the door he didn't realize that this was going to happen. Eight years and he's still receiving these little carepackages of inconvience.

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Oh man. I think I'm going to try this blogging thing. I need different avenues for writing, whether it's daily observations in 140 characters or less, poetry, fiction, journaling, or anything that requires me posting a thought. I'd like to use this account for whatever, whatever I think is worthy of posting. Even if it's a half assed idea I've got growing in my brain. It might also keep me from posting so much crap on twitter and deviantart.

On to bigger better things, ideas for microfiction pieces. I want to do an entire book of just microfiction. I'm going to try really hard this summer not to be so emo with my writing. My friend Chelsea told me to be more bold and personal. This is a huge task for me because I have this tendency to try and not put a face on the people in my writings. Maybe that's the problem. I need to get inside of these characters instead of just rooting for them.

First things first, continue to fix "Black Canary". Make the times WAY more detailed and the characters less obviously sad.

Second, develop this idea on the couple who aren't a couple. It needs a feel of mystery and deception.

Third the idea I had about the killer and if we could do anything that made us happy.

I think I've figured out what to put together as far as my strengths but it's going to be a different thing trying to actually put them together. I'll figure it out chronicle how it's going.

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