Inner Monologue

Gale excerpts below, trigger warnings: blood, gore, vivisection, abuse, necromancy, I'm going to go ahead and say sexual content as well since some of the descriptions get pretty racy.

The relationship between Gale and Ritz has a nice start, but it quickly becomes...unhealthy, I'm just waiting to be ridiculed for writing this book.

To make it worse my mind has been in very dark places during the entire month of November because of this, I am seriously reconsidering my December endeavor.

( Here we go... )

After visiting the hospital tonight I've realized a few things about the spot I'm at right now.

I'm in a position where I have been able to do the thing I love and be supported by someone I love. I may go nuts and bored and want a job every now and again, but in the end I'm very happy with being able to write like I love to.

So we're in C-Bus for the weekend, Robbie is leaving tomorrow to go further south for a few days, I meanwhile am staying in the city to visit with family and friends. When we return to Waterford we have the luxury of having the house all to ourselves. We did shopping before leaving, so I am extra interested in all the delicious things that I am going to cook.

Also, 10k into my NaNo project, Gale, and suddenly the story is deviating into much more passionate territory than I had originally planned. I guess I'll never be able to completely control my characters.

Also also, am I the only one who truly believes that FB needs to come down? I know ANON rumors are all over, but it would be nice to show the larger corporations and bigwigs that people in general can still twist the screws.

Me: "I search myself, I want you to find me. I forget myself, I want you remind me. I don't want anybody else--"

Rob: "When I think about~ you I touch myself."

THIS.

I read over a few of the short stories I was pumping out before June 19th, and I realized that the stories definitely have a different feel to them. I actually really, REALLY like the way they flow before June 19th as opposed to the attempts at rewriting the final chapter afterwards.

For example, Of Closets, a short story detailing Kamen and Artemis' childhood and their many blunders, this one detailing a point where the two find themselves locked in a closet. Hilarity ensues.

"It's never dark back home." She said with her voice much softer than it had been during her lecture.

Kamen glanced over to her, standing with her cheek against the door with the vague light from the bottom of the door creeping up and outlining the both of them. "Sunlight all day?"

She shook her head, "No, I mean…well it's never this dark." A small smile made its way across her face, "I suppose it does get dark in the country, but where I live the light from the city is always bouncing off of the buildings. People are awake all day and all night."

"That's silly. Even London sleeps."

"I didn't ask for your opinion. If I wanted it I would have asked." She said coldly, then added in the same tone: "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"Because you steal my food, you petty thief." She poked his chest.

Kamen shrugged, "Yours tastes better than mine." He wrinkled his nose, "How exactly does light bounce from building to building, they're made of brick, aren't they?"

"Different bricks. More like glass. And colored, a lot of the buildings are dark green."

He blinked twice, "That's silly."

"And," She said while glaring at him, her voice self-important, "We have tiny machines that you can listen to music with and talk to people who are far away with, and we have dragonfly machines that you can fly on—"

"And you're crazy."

She rapped the back of her hand on his chest, "You're one to talk, did you forget that we're locked in the closet?"

Of course after posting this I don't even want to show anyone the final chapter. it just doesn't have the same magic the rest of the book does. All poetry is crushed and the passion just isn't there.

If I'm ever going to be able to write like that again I'm going to have to read through ALL of Artemis, as well as probably finish all of the short stories that were started and never finished. Oh god, the Lady Godiva one, I don't even know how I'm supposed to make a conversaition about being naked in public in the 1860's permittable between a 15 year old and an 18 year old.

Yes. Yes, it is that bad.

EDIT: Figured it out: Kamen keeps pushing with borderline lewd comments, Artemis tries to ignore but inevidably ends up hitting him with her book.

I'm down to the last few days before my period and the telltale signs are there: bloating (the good kind, yes I get the good kind), strange cravings, moody, and I want a baby.


That last one is actually really common, I've gone up to Robbie I don't know how many times to ask him for one, but the answer is always no, and once my period is over I won't want one anymore.


But right now I do.



And Persephone STILL hasn't learned to cuddle with me at this point, although admittedly I may be a little too aggressive in my snuggles.

Was nothing short of a nightmare, and it looks like its going to bleed into this week.

My house was broken into on the 21st, my family was out of the state for that whole week. The computers were stolen and even though they decided to tear out the speakers, headphones, keyboards, and microphones, they decided that they should just take all the jump drives that had Artemis saved on them. I still have Ritzko, I suppose that's a blessing in disguise. Luckily I had emailed most of Artemis Book 1 to myself to read at work, so I will only have to rewrite the last chapter and the afterword.

I managed to get through work without breaking down in front of my coworkers, but to tell the truth I did have a patient that I found crying at 5 am and I ended up sitting with him and bawling my eyes out right next to him.

My boss has been amazing through everything, however I haven't told her yet that Robbie and I do plan on moving back to Michigan. We're waiting on his job to transfer and we've worked the budget to allow us to live on his salary alone for as long as we need to (while I'm unemployed). I have only told one of my coworkers what happened, and only because she had her house broken into last summer and I felt was the only one who really understood what I was going through. The others know nothing, and I don't plan on telling them anything until I leave, if then.

I stayed at Tammi's house one night, I'll probably do a lot of crashing there this coming week, what was a 6-day stretch of time off has become an 8-day stretch because guess what? To top off the week, Robbie's grandmother passed this morning around 4, and the worst part is that I don't have the strength to cry anymore, even when something really warrants tears. I know how close he was to her, when he said she was back in the hospital with her usual UTI CHF, I figured she would be right as rain and back home when we moved up there. So I work tonight and took vacation for the next two days. Hopefully I can pick up some time around the hospital in the stretch to save up money.

Penelope is still missing, and her sister is all out stressed and lonely now. She cries a lot, can't keep down food, I'm worried about the both of them. So we're taking Persephone up to Michigan with us for the funeral because we don't want to leave her alone for too long, she snuggled up to me for most of last night. I have faith still that we will find Penny, the biggest reason being that we have posters all over the damn place that offer a reward of $100 for her return, along with a picture of her. To be honest, she should be easy to spot, her fur is longer than any other stray, and her coloring is rather unique. It makes me feel better when I see people I've never met combing the area for her, calling out for her, $100 is a small price to pay for her if it gets her home. I know Robbie is lonely without her.

One of the only good things that happened this past week was when my sister came home from vacation and set right all of the mess between me and my parents, she then proceeded to buy me a new laptop, which I am typing this on right now. I'm in the midst of recovering my lost music, but it looks like I may have to wait a bit to get my Sailor Moon replaced, which kinda sucks because I could really use a good laugh right about now. Artemis Book 1 is in its own little folder on here, but I haven't put much work into finishing it yet. I'm still a little numb from the whole experience.

I guess I should start getting cleaned up for work? I have a few hours still, but there is packing to be done if I plan on leaving in the morning for Michigan for the funeral.

Immediately following my mood swing this morning, I cut my hair.

Well just the front, the back still comes to below my waist, but I did trim the ends thoroughly.

So I've got some posh-katy-perry-ish thing going on which I'm pulling out my headband collection for, and I went to Charming Charlie and nearly died. That place is HEAVEN! SO gorgeous and shiny! I picked up a few headbands from there.

I need to open up a little, I find myself too timid most of the time, I need to just throw myself out there.

I also probably need to see a therapist. With all the dreams and everything going on right now as far as my frustration with work I think a checkup on my mental health wouldn't hurt. ESPECIALLY with the dreams. Morpheus is not letting up.

Dear Universe,

What is the third law? These things have a habit of occurring thrice, correct?

1. Murphy's Law: Whatever can go wrong, WILL go wrong. (I get the short end of the stick, my mother's side of the family happen to have the misfortune of having this as a last name...).

2. The day you look like a scrub is the day you see everyone you know. (I've learned my lesson too many times to not keep a pair of flats in case I break another pair of heels running).

3. ... (profit?)

Updated my twitter a little. De'Angelo was making fun of it earlier saying it was the old version, to which I replied, "nah brah, it's generic."

I painted a glorious tree on the window of the hospickle Tim Hortons and all of its woody-barky-glory. I attribute my technique to hours of watching various artist's live streams for tips, and am quite shocked that I actually DID learn something.

Of course painting on windows made me want to break out some of my blank canvases. I have a half-finished painting that I rescued from the trash at the cultural art center that I wanted to finish. The original artist already did the brunt of the work by blocking out the building and the flowers, I don't understand why they would throw out such a gem.

We think Robbie broke his wrist. Roughing with the guys at a softball game. One of the girls asked if he needed an ice pack, of course when I asked him I worded it differently ("Would you like an ice pack or should I get you something to bite while I set the bone back in place?"). Two cold packs, some coban, and an ace wrap later he says he'll wait a week and if it hasn't gotten better he'll go get x-rays. Of course trust him to continue playing after the injury.

I'm actually having more fun writing the dialogue for the last chapter of Artemis, it's taking me much longer than it rightly should, but when it's finished I hope it will be as impacting as I want it to. All the sexual frustration is hilarious.

That movie that was in theatres in 2010? It came out of DVD today, so I watched it. Or tried to.

I'm sure I'll make an attempt to watch the whole thing later, but its one of those things where I feel really REALLY awkward watching it in the daytime with Robbie.

About thirty minutes in Robbie gets up to unplug his own lappy, my eyes get all wide.

Robbie: "What?"
Me:  "I think they're abut to have sex?"
Robbie: "Oh shit."
Me: "This is too much right now."
Robbie: "Did you really just turn that off."
Me: "I don't even KNOW what I'm watching right now."

Tons of excerpts in here, stuff that won't be posted on DA, but I think I may have posted a bit of one of the excerpts on a previous entry. I'm having a hard time making headway at this point, mostly because of the content, I can't seem to write one of the scenes without feeling sick, and although I do plan on omitting it from the final project (the chapters will jump from 49 to 51seamlessly and only someone paying close attention will notice), I do need to know what is said in order to make things work after March 0.

That being said, this is completely out of context, but heart-wrenching nonetheless:

"I’ll believe anything you tell me.”

“The sky is red.”

“And a beautiful shade.”

Playing around with the idea of Ambrosia, I've decided to push up Kamen finding the jar, and decided to actually show the discovery. Including a few bittersweet memories of Lillaine, and actually eating some of the poison himself (it isn't like it would effect him anyways.)

“It’s sweet, but not too sweet.” Artemis said with two fingers to her mouth, her eyes still searching the black waves. “It’s delicious, but disgusting at the same time. First it was stuck in my mouth, but then it moved down my throat, and I can feel it in my chest now. I feel heavy, like I’m stuck in a nightmare.” She looked at him, easily meeting his curious eyes, “What is that?”

Van Dean slowly shook his head, “I’ve never felt anything like that, I couldn’t say.”

Arrogant Kamen is someone I want to strangle a little, and I've been told others feel the same way, but it still feels good to give Van Dean a rival that he can't touch, especially with how things seem to be spiraling downwards. Artemis really seems to have become a pawn at this point in the story, and for all practical purposes she's not really doing anything except for going insane. To me this only seems to make the final action in book 1 more inevitable.

( "I'll eat your heart." )

Somehow it seems like the roles of Kamen and Rei have become a little jumbled, once Kamen's got no reason to play nice with Van Dean he reverts to the Kamen from the original story, the guy playing hello kitty island adventure on a stake-out and panicking while sliding through Gorgosa on a rope into a death-march (jesus, were the original shenanigans really this wacky?). It works though, he melds perfectly with his Victor Covington persona, and becomes a little more gritty than the oath-bound tragic hero.

( "You guys are stalkers." )