Twilight's Sky

Writing News

2009-08-29T14:43:31Z

Hey Kids,

So I haven't written poetry in a long damn time. I have been wondering if it's because I'm too happy. I prefer to think it's because I'm working too hard on fiction. That's clearly a lie. I normally don't get inspired for both at the same moments, and I have certainly not been working on fiction enough to claim I don't have time. THAT SAID, here is the news:

I really am going to send my first novel in to my contact (not Jean Little, Lindsay!) And I am going to do it THIS WEEK. It will be sent in, he will eventually comment, I will find out it's not as good as I think it is, which, actually I don't, really. Well, that's not true. I find when I THINK about it I think it's not good, not long enough, not deep enough, not funny enough to be enjoyable to read.. but when I actually READ it, I really like it, and I don't think it's just in my perpetual narcissistic enjoyment of my own creations, but actual enjoyment of the writing. Oh well, we'll see.

The real news however is that I'm working on my second novel project a little bit more. It has 3 major characters, one of whom was inspired by the "girl with the glasses" that I used to write about in this very live journal, and her alter-ego, who lives in another world. Here is a quick summary of the characters. (Thoes of you, JON, who were in my creative writing class will remember one of the characters from a small sample I shared there):

Rebecca & Lady Red Wren: Rebecca is just a girl. A little bit nerdy, always off in her own dream world. And Lady Red Wren is her avatar in that dream world. Rebecca believes she is creating this dream completely out of her own head, but the reality is much more complicated.

Sol: Sol lives in a town called Arnquay, which is a sleepy little port I've imagined somewhere on the UK coastline. His father disappears one day into the blue sea, and despite the towns insistence that it was suicide, Sol throws caution to the wind and follows, taking him into a world beyond anything he had thought possible.

Sarvek: Sarvek is a Spurling, a creature who lived his whole life in the world of the Pit of Oblivion, at the edge of an underground ocean that stretches on forever, downward. His people are preparing to make war with the surface, what they call the world beyond the Tunnel of Blinding.

I'm aiming for three very different voices, and conceptually I'm working with the idea of shifting the writing style slightly with each perspective. It will be fun to write, whatever the result.

This is the project I am planning for NaNoWriMo. It's so long away, but I just had this great idea and couldn't wait to start preparing. I have already written a good chunk of an outline, but not one word of the actual text. The plan for this one is a story about a woman and how she found love. It will be told through alternating first person chapters and transcripts of therapy sessions both contemporary to the beginning of the love affair, and years later. Sounds pretty mundane, I know, but I've got some twists up my sleeve to make it more interesting.

Well that's all the news I have for now.
Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight

Sifting

2009-07-25T15:48:28Z

Hey Kids,

I woke up early this morning,though early is really a subjective term, seeing as how I have been getting up at 5:30 two days a week, and this morning it was only 7) and I had a burning need to write something. So I came into the living room, got my laptop going and started to work. But now, instead of continuing to create the world in which my second, and MUCH bigger novel is taking place, I am writing in my livejournal. I post in here so infrequently lately, and I think it's a shame. I actually think vomiting this stuff about my life in pseudo-poetic forms here had been keeping me more productive as a writer, which is basically what I wish I could push myself further into, as I am feeling rooted to working somewhere that's just a necessary financial evil.

I would get another job, but I don't think I'd find one that would afford me the flexibility to be able to schedule so much writing and thinking time into my life, not to mention that the experience of looking for a job is about on a par with sliding white-hot needles under my fingernails.

So here I am, still doing the Staples thing, still waiting for my motivation to help me to excel instead of truly taking charge of it myself. I still haven't heard back from anyone I sent my writing to to read for me, so I have decided to give up on them instead of nagging them. I am going to read over it one more time from beginning to end, and if it seems like a novel, I'm going to send it to my more professional contact. Hopefully posting this in here will make me actually do it.

I always chide people in my head for not following through with what they want to do, and wonder how people let their lives roll over them without chasing the things they want. I have never thought of myself as the kind of person to be afraid of that, but I clearly am afraid of something, 'cause when it comes to the social/business aspect of career, I am absolutely flummoxed. Like, not-even-making-it-to-the-door flummoxed.

But I write. Well, sometimes I write. I need to write more, and I need to write more real things instead of posting in here. I also want to go back to writing more poetry, "but that's old hat, I'm so happy, how do you write about that.."

I have been listening to a lot of Harvey Danger's album "Where Have All the Merrymakers Gone?" lately. It's exactly the kind of music that I just love. Hard rocking parts, good lyrics, moving singing. I wish my job was lying in the sunshine writing while listening to Harvey Danger. Now THERE'S a career to be ambitious about. Speaking of career, you know what really gets me down? Terry Brooks was a practising lawyer. And he's a many-time New York Times bestseller. So if I write the kind of crap I write, how am I ever going to be able to survive doing what I really want to do? Will I always have to have some crap job like working at Staples while I try to pursue my real passion on my days off? I don't want it to be a day-off kind thing. I want it to be a whole life kinda thing.

I know that means "getting my act together" it just feels heavy and hopeless to think that it almost doesn't matter how successful I am, that I will probably still have to pretend.

Whine whine whine. Maybe I'm desperate for something to complain about 'cause life is so good. The weather here is hot and sunny every day lately. I'm actually almost disappointed by how nice it is. I miss the fog and the rain. (don't tell anyone I said that) The beach is nearby, we have a pool in the building.... really, there's no need to go on.

I have started playing D&D with some old and new friends. We have a really awesome group, and a particularly awesome DM, who is really into it and works really hard to make sure we all have a great time. Blah blah blah this is not interesting. See why I don't write poetry anymore? It's all games and music and TV and Staples.

Speaking of TV, Sarah and I are watching a series called "Jonathan Creek," which is a British TV show based on a book. It stars Allan Davies, and started its run in 1997. It is a fantastic mystery show, with interesting twists and, as usual with British TV, very down to earth, very believable characters.

You don't (or I don't) really notice how "perfect" everyone is in American TV and movies until I watch British TV for a bit. The characters just seem like people you actually meet on the street, not the people who walk by you and your jaw drops, whether from their sheer attractiveness, or your disgust at the amount of work they put into getting ready before they go out that day.

I have to go back to my book, and on to a cup of tea now. Thanks for reading this. And if you ARE reading this, I guarantee I am missing you so my heart hurts.

Until next time,
I'm Ktwilight.

A Tuesday in London

2009-05-12T16:29:03Z

Hey Kids,

So I am sitting in my hotel lounge in London, updating the LJ and watching Top Gear.

Today the shower stopped working in my hotel while I was in the middle of rinsing the shampoo from my hair, so I will have to redo the showering later to properly wash. Upside: I went out to Boots, the chemist ("Drug Store" to you North Americans) and picked up some bodywash, which was on a Bogof deal ("Buy one get one free"), so not only do I not have to use shampoo to wash the rest of me next time, but I also get to take some of this British bodywash I like home. I also got some good eczema cream, which is good, because it is BAD again. I think it's Staples' fault. It's so dry in there.

After visiting the chemist, I took a ride on the VERY busy Tube to St. Paul's cathedral, where I stopped in a Cafe Nero, which is a coffee chain over here. A coffee chain I actually LIKE, which is strange. I stayed there and worked on my novel for awhile, which is going so so well. Mostly at the editing stage now. And my writerly contact (quite a famous Canadian childrens' writer, but I won't publish who it is on here) has agreed to read it when I am done, so my new goal is to be done the editing and happy with a FULL draft by the end of this trip. (June 6th)

After writing for about 2 hours, I wandered across Millenium bridge and followed the south bank of the Thames, which is probably my favourite place in the whole world, exploring a few little places I have never been. After stopping for a little lunch, I crossed back over the river at Tower Bridge, (yes, that Tower Bridge!) and wandered back down the edge of the Thames, passing some lovely things, (including of course, the Tower of London) and back to St. Paul's cathedral, where I nipped back into the Cafe Nero to have another hot chocolate and work for another hour before jumpin' a Tube back to the hotel to write this entry. Anyone who has been here and has any recommendations of cool, lesser known cool things to see in London, let me know, as I will be wandering here for another week and a half before heading up North where I have a better handle on what's essential to see. ;')

Until next time,
I'm Ktwilight

Mostly Blather

2009-01-29T02:10:31Z

Hey Kids,

So I should be at a cafe, or in the park, or even sitting here writing on my laptop right now, but, as I have been all day, I am putting it off in as many ways as I can find. I'm so close to being at the end of the novel, and I don't want to be done because I love writing it. I know of course that there will be mountains of editing to do, and plot holes to flesh out, so it's not really ending, but it still feels strange to have written so much. I think in truth however, it's simply that I am desperate for control over my time. It's weird for me to feel like that 'cause most of the time I'm very laid back about how things go, and what I do each day... But I feel like when I have this much time I should just do whatever I want at every minute. Ironically, it often stops me from doing things that I want to do, or things that are important to me, everything from socialising to writing the novel, because I think to myself "if you go out there and do that, you'll have less choices. The ironic part is, I end of staying in and doing things that aren't that important, or that I didn't even care if I did or not, because I don't want to lock myself into a decided activity. How pathetic. Tonight I WILL write. I will not sit here babbling on about how I miss Winnipeg, how it seems like even when I make new friends now they all live there, so I don't get the opportunity to hang out with them on a regular basis.

Well goodness my posts are usually so much more entertaining and informative than this whining.

The fog has lifted, and this saddens me. I was hoping it would stay super foggy in Vancouver for all of February, as it did for most of January, because it was so romantic and misty and I felt I could just slip into it and disappear. It makes everything seem filled with intrigue and mystery. I love the energy of a fog covered city at night, the lights from all those windows twinkling distantly, skyscrapers looming suddenly out of the mist. It leaves me feeling dreamlike, and I wonder if this whole world could really exist it seems so overwhelming.

I had a dream last night that I lived in a building across from several girls I went to high school with. I dreamt that I got to know them again as if they were old friends, despite that I only vaguely knew them. They were some of those sort of nice people that you know, and who treat you well, and you get along, but it never really develops into a friendship or anything more than a passing kinship of sorts. It makes me feel far away from people. Like I live off on an island somewhere like an Alistair McLeod story. Like I sort of pass people the way you pass cars on the street, or ships at sea, and yet never really connect with them. I don't know why I'm always so desperate to connect with everyone so deeply. I'm always looking to get deeper and closer. Is it just me? I don't know if I feel this way more lately because I have moved so far from everything I knew, or if I would feel this way regardless.

Sarah and I have found out that we get to live in London for the month of May. I can't really afford it, but in that strange way, I can't afford to miss it either. England tugs at my heart like a first love or a childhood best friend. I feel about it the way you feel when you visit a house you used to live in, sort of warm and cold at the same time, a bittersweet nostalgia. Perhaps that's redundant.

God. I need to write more often. When I sit down to do this, it's as if everything I've been thinking and feeling, holding in to write when I had time just sort of pours out of me. It reminds me everytime how certain I am that writing is what I want to do with my life. And brings me back to the beginning of this post I suppose, reiterating how much I need to go out and work. Maybe I'll go have supper at the fish and chip place around the corner and then go to the cafe to write.

To anyone who actually read this:

If you miss me, I guarantee that I miss you too. If reading this is your main connection to me, I completely understand that feeling, as it seems that more and more, I feel like my major connections with people have devolved into my ocasional perusal of their online journals and facebook pages in a desperate attempt to get back some element of that connection we used to have. I wonder if you can ever actually go back, or if these things just get lost, like those skyscrapers in the fog, just waiting for you to stumble upon them again as you rush blindly through the haunting streets...
The reason I wanted to write this part was to thank you for reading, for having an interest in what I wrote and for, in your own way, maintaining a connection to me in this world of broken ties. I miss you too.

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight

Prisoners and Merchants

2008-11-07T16:12:33Z

Hey Kids,

I sometimes wake up early in the morning wondering about different paths my life could have taken. I wonder about what ways the choices that I've made in my life have limited me. There are a million cliches about this feeling. It's not quite regret, but like a form of nostalgia for something that never was. A desire for something that could have happened, if you hadn't chosen something else. Some of the things I'm missing never could have been, or would have been lost anyway, but it's the times you have said "maybe one day" that turn into "maybe in another life" that feel the strangest. It's one of those feelings that although you know it is a common thing, it feels like you're the only one who feels it. Like everyone else is so sure about the life their living. That everyone knows what they want, and have made the choices it takes to get there, and that you just sort of.....coast, and hope.

It's probably simply natural for us to doubt ourselves. Often seems like me moreso than anyone, and I wonder if the mistakes I've made will ever really let me move on. Or if the things that I've chosen because they make me happy will ultimately make me sad, and make me miss out on happier things. It's no way to live, to waste the happiness in your life wondering what other things lie out there, and I won't take the things I have for granted, but sometimes I feel like what I'm supposed to do is just put my head down on my desk and close my eyes. I have never been good at letting go of possibility.

I am mostly a very responsible person. I think my job is important, even though it's just a job. If I make promises I always endeavour to keep them. I never outright lie, and I try not to bend the truth. But sometimes I want so badly to be free. But good things, especially people, are like helium balloons, when it comes to this. You can't let go of the string 'cause you need a free hand, and expect the balloon to just be waiting there for you to hold it again. It sometimes makes me feel really disconnected from people that we make all of these demands of one another, that we have caveats and obligations. Don't get me wrong, I like to be able to rely on people, and I see the value in that. I'm not suddenly going to be completely unreliable. (or even a little bit for that matter) Ask and I'll be here, you know that, I hope.
But I start to feel like everything's a barter system. Like you're here because I'll be here and I make promises to you so that you'll make promises to me. I know that it's a balance. That none of us can expect everyone to be selfless so that we can be selfish. Not even sometimes. But it seems like a game we play, instead of really connecting, and really meaning something, we all marry ideas. We all commit to a contract. Is that cynical? I wish making promises always felt as good as telling someone you love them and meaning it, whether it's a promise to a person, or to a cause, or to a job, even.

I don't think I know how to fix this. I don't think there is a way. And sometimes, I don't even think there's a problem. Maybe that's when I'm healthiest, when the balance actually feels right to me, feels fair. Maybe I'm just trying desperately to cling on to being young and selfish, even as I grow up and learn to compromise. I wonder sometimes if life is always going to be this hard. It's not that I'm unhappy, it's just that everything in my life feels like hard work sometimes, and I want to structure it so that at least some things are easy. Maybe you can't have that, and get the things you want at the same time. Some people will tell you that for everything that's worth having, there's hard work that must be done, sacrifices that must be made. Some will even suggest that the sacrifice is what makes the goal worthwhile. I don't know about that. I don't want everything to just fall in my lap. I don't want to feel like I've never achieved anything, but I don't want every success I have to be about how much I sweated or how much of myself I gave up.

I miss a lot of people way out here on the West coast. Some are the people I would see everyday if I hadn't left Winnipeg. Some are the people I never saw anyway, and with whom it feels like a constant battle just to keep in touch, no matter how much we want to. Maybe Christmas will help with that, seeing family and friends.

It's strange, when I lived in England, I was going through one of the hardest times I've been through in my entire life (I guess this Livejournal can attest to that) but I still felt so at home there, even though I was so lonely. Lately I feel so disconnected from things, that I wonder if all of that hell taught me to shut the desperate, overpowering part of me off, so that I could just get along. I love this city, it is exciting and fun and alive. I love the wet weather and I love the trees in the neighbourhood and I love the apartment. But I feel like I'm walking in a dream. Like all of this is just a story I'm telling that is going to end soon, and I'll go back to my old room in my old place and everything will go back to being the way it was. Maybe we always feel that way when things change? Maybe I'm at a stage where I'll feel like I don't belong anywhere. Maybe I'm just in a mood right now. Goodness I hope no one is wasting their time reading all of this.

Soft the breaking thunder sounds
outside the walls that wrap around
though this prison keeps us bound
tonight it keeps us safe.

Until next time,
~I'm Ktwilight.

Eihn.

2008-10-19T18:21:56Z

Hey kids,

God, it's been so long since I've posted. I guess this journal is a stormy weather friend. I only turn to it when I need something to lean on, somewhere to throw the weights that I would otherwise carry.

I read a comment today on a friend's journal by someone who hates me, and will probably hate me forever. It's ridiculous how sensitive we are to that. Or is it just me? Though I miss her, if I didn't see her again I would be ok, but I would LOVE the opportunity to clear everything out, to get rid of that hate that I feel toward me whenever I'm reminded of her. I know I was not perfect, am not perfect, will never be perfect, but I worked hard and will always work hard to do right by the people I love. We had wonderful times together. A lot of them. And it still burns in my heart that those times can be forgotten so easily to be replaced by hatred over things I don't fully understand. I agonised over it for a long time, trying desperately to understand what I should have done better, but it doesn't help. And I wonder what part of it is all my fault, what part of it is anger, what part of it was both of us defending ourselves from guilt and heartache and lashing out at each other instead of figuring things out. I have always wanted to, and always tried as much as I can to do right by the people I love, and even by the people I don't.

The problem is that I carry anger in my heart too. Anger over the things that weren't true, or were twisted. Anger over the things that got out of my control. Anger at myself for expecting others to be honest with me and with themselves over what they wanted. It's not that easy to do, for any of us, and we need to be careful, and be certain, I guess.

I wonder if I need therapy, sometimes. If I need to get it all out of me. To talk to someone about the whole thing again. See if I'm muddled up in my own head, in my own defense. Maybe I'm the problem, and have always been the problem. I don't know.

I hope not too many people have wasted their time reading this. It's probably just echoes of the life I used to have coming back to haunt me as I try to move on. I cut as much of it loose as I could, and it made me feel better. But it feels like giving up ground to disconnect from even a mutual friend I was close to separately. I want to be better, though.

Until Next Time,
~I'm Ktwilight

Homes

2008-08-14T13:45:42Z

Hey Kids,

God. I finally have 2 secs to myself to sit and have tea and write this, where I am not either packing madly or at work. In case I haven't talked to you in recent days, my stuff is all going out to Vancouver in boxes on a skid in a truck, and they have to be at my Uncle's loading dock today. So I am having a morning tea break, and then I'm going to finish packing my worldly belongings for the transition to their (and my) new home.

I am so excited to be moving. This is going to be a cliched entry, but it is bittersweet. I am thrilled about living in a new city, furnishing our own apartment, living somewhere else, where I won't be a guest. But I am so sad to be leaving here. I finished at Staples #58 last night, and it was HARD. I will miss my work family so much. That place is made what it is by the people who work there, and how wonderfully quirky and sweet they all are. I am vastly underpaid for the work I do, and the information I provide, but I keep going back there because it's fun, and I'm surrounded by people I really enjoy spending time with. They asked me to say something when they were all farewelling me yesterday, and I didn't know what to say that wouldn't sound cheesy or make me cry. I will miss that store and the people so much. It's funny how we find these places sometimes that we can just fit into. It seems like Lego, but it's really more like a ribbon tie. It's so much easier to get in than it is to pull back out.

I'll be back for visits of course, but this is really it. Leaving home.

I'll try and do and entry and post pictures on facebook when we're all settled in.

Until next time,
I'm Ktwilight.

Hearts like crazy paving, upside down and back to front...

2008-06-19T14:37:15Z

Hey Kids,

I haven't posted in a while. Having someone move in with you really messes with your regular schedule. But I'm so happy that my life seems to be on a track where I sort of have an idea of where I want it to be for the next few years, and I really like to have that vague outline again. :')

I'm not posting about that now though. I just wanted to talk for a bit about people. People seem really fucked up around me these days. I don't THINK they're really more than they used to be, but every time I meet someone new and get to know them, and lately the people I have been close to for a long time as well, I wonder if there can be any freedom from psychological problems.

I and someone very close to me have both cried recently because we thought we were "not good people." The things we cried about were things that seem silly, and I know they're simply insecurities about being and doing "right" to other people. It seems so easy to think one can be a bad person by accident, though. But you guys have read me griping on and on about this to no end, and in the end,

I wonder sometimes about balances, wonder if some people getting better means others have to get worse. Of course in practical terms it sounds like nonsense. Things just happen, right? There's no cosmic force regulating the balance in the universe, so some are always up and some down. But it does feel like it sometimes, in our limited experience of the world. I am very worried about way too many of my friends for it to be healthy. I want to help everyone and make everyone better, and I can't do it all. I feel really ineffectual most of the time, and I know it's not my responsibility to do anything beyond "being there" for my friends when they need me, I can't stand the idea that I'm not able to do more than just listen.

I wish I could say things that would put people in perspective. Like astute observations that would just carry their wisdom into people's hearts. I think I understand a lot about feelings. I'm intuitive and I'm caring and I really try to understand what people are going through, and I think I'm fairly successful on that front. Unfortunately, (and I know at some point I just have to accept that this is the way things are) I feel like I can't get through to people.

This suddenly feels like a condescending post. I don't know better than anyone, and I don't mean to say I do. I don't have the wisdom to lift people up over the ways that they hurt themselves, even if I am watching them do it, and I feel like I understand why. We all have our little obsessions, I'd say we probably all even have some that hurt us. Mine is my need to be cared about and loved. I want everyone to admire me, to look up to me, and I feel like a desperate failure when I meet someone who doesn't "get" me, or simply doesn't like me. I shouldn't, and I know I shouldn't, but it happens again and again. I try desperately not to let it manifest in me manipulating others, not to let it turn me into an insecure lump of need, and I think that keeping the danger in mind helps. But the obsession doesn't go away. Not completely.

So what of other people's self destructive obsessions? Can we help anyone who really needs it? Is there any way to help the people you love? Is it condescending to think you know better than they do, that they would be better off if they "fixed" things?

I just don't want people to hurt. I feel tied down listening to them. And I listen. It's what I do. But I feel like they desperately want me to say something. Sometimes it's words of wisdom, sometimes they want to be validated in their worries and obsessions. But always I feel like I don't have the power to help, or don't have the right to tell people what's right for them.

Does anyone reading this feel beautiful and happy with who they are?
I really need to hear someone tell me they love themselves, that they're proud to be themselves, before I start to really believe that all we do anymore is make people who can't love themselves, who need and want to be other things, instead of valuing what is wonderful about them.

There is nothing wrong with wanting to improve oneself, there is nothing wrong with working hard to get better, and to become the person you want to be, but being unhappy with yourself because you value yourself based solely on the things you think you lack, is not only unhealthy, it's dangerous. I want to give everyone a mirror that can only show them a balanced truth. One that takes into account the good and the bad, and cuts through their insecurities to show them what's really there. Most of us would be afraid of that, I think, but we would also be pleasantly surprised at what we saw. It sounds idealistic, but I really believe that.

It looks like I am moving away at the end of the summer. I will deeply miss Winnipeg, and it will be crazy to live somewhere else and not know when I'll be back. There are so many people I would love to bring with me in my luggage. Make sure you make plans with me this summer if you want to see me before I go.

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight.

Another Post Worth Ignoring (much less interesting than last time)

2008-05-02T16:46:32Z

Hey Kids,

So recently I re-encountered an acquaintance from years ago who knows some of my current friends. We chatted back and forth by Facebook messages for a bit, and got along pretty well. Then, as I do when I meet someone, I wanted to show her some of my poetry. Her reaction was quite negative. And when I say quite negative, I mean she not only hated the poetry, but her critique suggested that the things I expressed were representative of things about me as a person that she seemed not only to find unappealing, but morally dangerous or reprehensible. What it amounts to, as far as I can tell, in my humble estimation, is that she thinks that the way my poetry demands of the reader and expresses vulnerability and need is parasitic, and that it implies (perhaps) that I am emotionally parasitic as a person. Her prescription for me was ego dissolving drugs. Initially she suggested them as a means to deepen my writing process (beyond the self, I suppose), but in the end she suggested them "before I fuck around with the wrongest wrong a man can be." Not only is this cryptic, it suddenly make me think of how serious the things she had been accusing me of were. I thought I could take her criticisms into account with out taking them to heart as criticisms of me as a person, and that they could help me improve my writing, but I hadn't realised the extent to which she had equated what she sees as flaws in my writing with flaws in my character. (keeping in mind this is someone with whom I have never had a long conversation, and that our entire exchange took place through Facebook messages over a period of merely 3 days.

I wonder if others see me, and my work, this way. I can imagine that this past fall/winter as I went through my breakup with Chala, my worries about my father's health, and the other things that went along with those, people saw it and me, more like that. I was remarkably vulnerable, and needy, and I asked too much of a lot of the people around me. I think sometimes that it was wrong of me, but I don't think I could have done it differently. I hope that I can be there for all of the people who were there for me, and give back to them as much as they have given me.

All of the accusations that Chala had for me at the end of our relationship make this more poignant. I have been keeping her insults and accusations with a grain of salt, as I know that some of them were patently untrue, and I can only imagine seemed that way in the light of her guilt at having fallen in love with someone else and out of love with me. This makes me wonder how right some of the things she accused me of were. Do I use my emotions, and my need to express them as a tool to manipulate people? Am I parasitic in that I cling to others emotionally and take from them without giving much back?

I don't think that I can be reduced to that. I try to appreciate the people around me and to show them that they are important to me. I need to express myself, but I am also a good listener, and love to listen and be there for others when they ask it of me. I do need a lot of attention, but I try to give the same back that I get, because I also love to GIVE attention. Is it all selfish? Do I simply give attention because it brings me pleasure, and take more than they offer back through manipulation?

Perhaps in revealing too much of myself to someone who knows me so little, I have coloured her idea of me with my vulnerability and need, thereby making it unlikely she will see the side of me that is stronger than that. Perha...

Ok. So at this point in my typing of this entry, she replied to the long rambling defense of myself that I sent her this morning, letting me know that while she had been trying to understand my work, and had been somewhat concerned about what it meant for me, she had not intended to make a judgment on my character. This does allay my fears somewhat and create a slight redundancy in the preceding journaling.

However. These are still my worries. I will continue to be insecure about this, but to some extent that is a good thing, security breeds comfort and comfort allows for our weaknesses to overwhelm us. If I am to avoid ever becoming what I fear, I will have to remain aware of these possible weaknesses in me.

Posting in here is truly helping me. It's good to have the kind of journaling opportunity where you don't have to worry that people will jump on and judge the things that you say, that their reading of it will change how they feel about you. What an appropriate insecurity to express in this moment...

I wonder why I worry so much about what other people think. Should I need reassurance from others that I'm not narcissistic? Does the reassurance of others serve merely as a mask to hide the things from myself that I don't want to admit? Does asking these questions even truly help?

She talks a lot about methods of thought. Changing the way that one thinks to foster conscientiousness...etc..
I wonder about it. She admits (hyper)sensitivity to this kind of selfishness and manipulation. She seems so matter of fact about everything. This is the problem, this is the medicine, that is the way people work. I am VERY suspicious of that kind of certainty when it comes to the way people THINK. It's a kind of cut and dry analysis of the mind that I just don't buy. Thinking about things as if they are straightforward, however, makes us more likely to act. Makes us more likely to feel like we can confront and handle problems, instead of getting bogged down in whether it's right or wrong. But if it's a reductive analysis, can the method that follows it truly be successful?

And I wonder if maybe all of this is just an insecurity about being liked. What happened to the Ralph that didn't CARE about that? Where did the me go who was just comfortable with himself regardless of other people's opinions? Is it in some perverse way healthier to worry about what others think?

I don't believe I treat people badly, on the whole. I believe I have made mistakes in the past, certainly. I believe there have been situations where I have been in the wrong, and where others have wronged me. I try my best to take into account not just how others feel, but how I feel about others, and whether what I want is to share something, or simply to HAVE something. I want to be done with this worry. But I also want to be secure, and happy, and I want to share that happiness with others. If I go about disrupting people and disregarding them, I wouldn't be happy either. So I will keep thinking about this. Hopefully not worrying, but thinking.

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight

ktwilight @ 2008-04-27T20:34:00

2008-04-28T02:35:04Z

Hey Kids,

I know it's irretrievably lame to do ANYTHING in the real world and then immediately rush to your blog and post about it, but I have the saving grace of knowing that the only people who will know I did that are all of you who are lame enough to actually be sitting there reading this right now, so I think I'm alright. ;'P

Anyway, down to business. I just saw the movie August Rush and it was one of those movies that make me think about a lot of things, so I was inspired to get on here and express myself about it.
I'll organise this into categories, so that it's easier to follow. If you haven't seen the movie, I'll try not to spoil it for you, but that means that not having seen it may spoil your enjoyment of this post. (if there was any hope of you having any in the first place.)

Soul
The whole premise of the film makes me think about the person. You, me, Samuel Beckett, Sir Edmond Hillary, Alexander Graham Bell, Martin Luther King...etc.. The person. The individual. In the nature/nurture debate, the film stands firmly on the side of nature. That boy has his parents in him, in the music. That link is inextricable. You can call it genes and chemical biology, you can call it soul, you can call it faith, but that boy has his parents in him. There is something in that. I wonder if who we are is about our parents, or about our friends, or about our world. Are we products of our environment, or is who we are something deeper, something intrinsic, something influenced, but in essence unchanged by the things that surround us? And what of "who we are"? can we be said to be someone? Be something particular, or do we simply need those boxes to simplify, in the most reductive manner, the complex web that is humanity? Of course, my mind says, we must be simplifying. I saw a movie recently where someone said that those who don't like the rules/descriptions of people are those who have never fit into them. That's right, but of course it's right. If you can't find yourself in a rule, you must choose between believing in a rule, and believing in yourself, and it is only the weakest of characters who will choose the former. I have never found myself in the rules. You can tell that by reading back entries of this journal, but you can see it even further back, ask me about my childhood, or better, ask those who knew me. I will paint my history with the brush of difference, because being outside of the lines, not fitting in, has coloured my entire understanding of myself, and I will tell the story of who I was in light of who I believe I AM. What will you find? Where is the truth of me? Somewhere between the tellings of others and the self-definition I apply?

When I went to England, I felt myself there. I felt the mist in the air and the way the light fell, and the blustery wind. I saw the stone and it stirred my heart. And the way the streetlamps shone in the night after the rain had fallen. The might and power, the depth of feeling. Something in me KNEW that place. And I lived there only till I was nearly 2. When I went to Bath, where I was born, I saw my heart in the city, I felt my soul in the air. There is something there, was something there. I am down on "blood ties," make nothing of "lineage" and "birthrights." I use "blood is thicker than water" as a punchline, and I have never been much of a family man. But what I saw there, what I felt in the people and the landscape and the place, was home. I was filled with patriotic sentimentality. I was in my element. Not earth or air or fire. Not Water. But spirit. I was in my element, in my place, in my home. It felt...like a force, buried deep and resurfaced, like a flood from under the skin. Like something I had always been looking for. I romanticise it, but it was a place I missed, and I place where I was found. There is something in THAT.

Music
Some people are elitist about music. Most people who are really passionate about it, to be honest. But watching that movie made me think about the FEELING of music. Music works, of course, as a metaphor for something else, as a connection that goes deeper than knowledge, than relationships built. It's a feeling, a sense, a desire, and faith. But when I thought about MUSIC, I thought, music has power. It brings me to something. A girl I knew in high school recently added me to her facebook, and on her profile, under the types of music she likes she wrote "anything that makes me feel feelings." I really like that. I really FEEL that. It seems simplistic. It seems arbitrary or subjective, but it doesn't have to be. There is something in music, good music, that just GETS you. That just grabs you, inside your chest, and tugs. To use a literary analogy, and one that emphasises my hopeful resistance to elitism here: In The Goblet of Fire, the first time Harry is introduced to the experience of the use of a portkey, it is described as "as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistably forwards." THAT is must for me. An irresistable jerking forwards, I am thrown about, as anyone who's seen me sing, or dance, or both at once, can attest to, it's very much like that. I am uncontrollable, inconsolable, unbearably drawn into the sound, thrown overboard by the emotional force that music can have. Do musical elitists miss this force? Do they close themselves off to it because they believe we need to have "taste" to have a system for accurately judging the "good", the "value" in a work? Or is it simply a matter of subjectivity, truly? OR perhaps it's a matter of subjectivity in a different way. As if they simply don't FEEL anything from these other works, and their snobbery is a way of explaining their emotional reaction to some works instead of others? It just seems so visceral, so...deep, perhaps it's naive to think that everyone will feel something because you feel it very strongly. I know it's sometimes the reason we fight. And the reason we love, and the reason we feel alone. My sense of that is so central, so powerful. I don't know how to make it objective, to step back and say "do I love this because it is something I am drawn to because of this, or that, element of my personality, or is it truly 'good'?" I suppose the answer is, neither can anyone, truly, but we try, and we develop criteria to aid in that trying. In the end though, I like "anything that makes me feel FEELINGS".

Stories
Similarly, there are elitists when it comes to stories. I would by no means classify myself as "anti-intellectual" in fact, I identify as one myself, most of the time. But I do stand up against the vicious rhetoric of literature and art vs. popular culture. As if there weren't movies, TV shows, or even pop songs that could be considered excellent writing. This film, for example, is a romantic plot, not realistic in the generally demanded sense, not "believable" but not ignorable. It's entirely predictable, but in a way that brings satisfaction rather than boredom. It is by no means the greatest film ever made, but it tells a story that hinges on some powerful emotional ideas, doesn't let go of them, and makes sense within its own world. Most of all, I think, this story makes me think. As I was watching it, I wondered if marketability, if the semblance of formula if...(forgive the venom in my writing as I use this term that has been such a thorn in my side for so long) cliché is truly detrimental to art, if the demand for originality, the VALUING of originality, almost above all else, will finally collapse in upon itself with the "death of original ideas in hollywood," if we will realise that a story, no matter how many times told, with stirrings, with different props and powerful themes, can still move us, can still be beautiful and brilliant, and can still function. I blame the audience for the pain of a cliché. I blame the lazy reader for not contextualising its use. I blame the demand for progress, the mass production. I blame all the things we all blame when we rail on about the hunger pangs in the parts of us that yearn for powerful art. We always wait for the same things, we always look for patterns, we always search for the sense of something that links us, that links to us. Are we simply asking for the ridiculous when we say "ok, now give me that medecine in a mixture that no one has made before? Satisfy my heart and my soul, and hit me, hard, make it something new, something that's yours" Can we not do this without help? Perhaps the key is always what I find it to be. Perhaps the demand is on everyone to THINK more, to open their eyes and their ears and their minds in a way that makes them realise things are fascinating, things are mostly unfathomable, but plumbing their depths is always a rewarding pursuit. As I said, I identify as an intellectual. Perhaps it is that sickness, and an expectation of more from humanity, an idealised view of what we can, and should do that brings this on.

If anyone read all of that, I thank you. I can't help but get these things out sometimes, and I suppose not having the opportunity (some of you will kill me for using that word for it this time of year) to write essays has brought me to this, at least in part. I hope you have enjoyed this rambling. I'm sure it won't be long before it happens again.

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight.

Self Sacrifice - Does it even exist?

2008-04-22T18:32:07Z

Hey Kids,

I'm really sorry I haven't posted in so long. Mostly I'm sure no one really cares if I post here or not, but I am always interested when I read my friends page, so maybe you guys were missing my self-indulgent blather as much as I miss yours when you don't post. :')

Sometimes in our lives we are given the opportunity to sacrifice something that is extremely important to us so that we can give something to someone else. This opportunity, and taking advantage of it, bring up some complex and difficult emotional obstacles.

The first feeling seems to be strong reluctance. We're all selfish, and who wants to give up something that is really important to us? Especially those things we believe we can't get back. For me, the biggest losses are the losses of potential experience. Is it worth giving up something we really want in order to give someone else the opportunity to have what they want? Worse is the feeling that fighting for what we want is unfair, and will hurt the other person, not only by taking away this thing from them that they really want, but worse, by making them feel guilty for wanting to have it and having it despite that it will hurt you.

If we DO give up what we want for the other person, alongside the disappointment, or even grief of having to give up what we wanted, there is an intense desire to have our sacrifices appreciated. Perhaps it's as much a personal style of dealing with things like this, perhaps I am narcissistic or desperately need to be everything to everyone, to have people need me and admire me, but there seems to be this deep desire to do things that demonstrate how hurt I am, how much I am losing. Not because I want this person to feel awful and guilty, but because I want them to know how much I am giving up, how much it truly IS a sacrifice for me and how much of a hard time I am having. Perhaps this turns a sacrificial act into an act of selfishness, and whilst I chose to give the thing up because I didn't want to take anything away from someone I care about, I can't help but worry that my desperation to be appreciated lessens the sacrifice. Is it wrong to want something good for myself out of a situation that has been so unhappy for everyone? Is the principle of self sacrifice valuable enough to be worth giving up all the happiness in the situation, including the happiness gleaned from being seen as "the kind of guy" who sacrifices things for the people he loves? When the situation feels like it cannot be happy for anyone, is there any way to determine what is right? And will someone who thinks giving things up is an admirable quality always end up being the person who does so? Or is that even relevant? Should one even take that into account, or is it better to deal with every situation separately, and not wonder if you're always the one making the sacrifices?

And when it's too late, will we resent the person we gave these things up for? I don't tend to DO longterm resentment, but for some reason, I am always concerned that I will. What if this is the time I can't rise above the temptation to feel hard done by? Or what if I seem to be fine, but then this person doesn't appreciate the sacrifice in a way that makes it feel worthwhile? Will that lead to a newfound resentment? And why do I ASSUME I'm not, and will not, be appreciated for the things I do for others? Is it because of past times people have thrown those things back in my face, or ignored that they even happened? Is it because I am, at heart, insecure and terrified of being unimportant?

I insist on not having people apologise to me in these situations. If you are allowing me to make this choice, this sacrifice for you, don't make me regret it by telling me you are "sorry" for taking away the things I want. I resist the temptation to say "if you were really sorry you wouldn't do this."

Some people tend to be good about saying that they "know what it's like" to think something is extremely important when no one else understands. That's a gracious thing to say, but it's also an easy one when you're not willing to give up the things you think are important.

Perhaps I should simply never back down? Would that be better? We always talk about the value of self-sacrifice, but is it really only nice because it seems unselfish? We can't deny that selfishness has value too, from self preservation to success, selfishness is way more valued in our society than we often admit. So why do we feel guilty about it, and is it really so horrible that it should be avoided at the cost of things that are really important to us? In the end, I'm not wired that way. I like to give in sometimes, I like to be, and admittedly as much, to seem unselfish and generous.

I was hoping that this posting would help me to work through my feelings, and to feel better. Sometimes expressing my emotions publicly makes me feel satisfied, makes things easier to deal with. I guess it doesn't actually make disappointment or unhappiness go away. I THINK I did the "right" thing, but I feel so bad that I can't help wondering if that can possibly be true. Can bad feelings be the defining feature of having done the right thing, when the right thing is self-sacrifice? Is it wrong to expect appreciation even though being unappreciative is considered wrong too?

I want to be a good person. I also want people to THINK I'm a good person. I want to give things up for the people I love, but I also want to be happy.

Where's the balance? And how do we even know when we've got it right?

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight

Update!

2008-03-13T21:08:48Z

Hey Kids,

I'm proud of myself. I didn't sit at home and do nothing after all, instead, I went to the cafe, wrote some of my novel (and a new poem I will post on swingloverswing) and chatted with a new girl who works there, who has quite lovely smoky blue eyes, and a very cute way of biting her lip when she's thinking.

Yay for people and productivity!

Until next time,
I'm Ktwilight

Little Things

2008-03-13T16:33:18Z

Hey Kids.

Here's a list of some stuff I've been thinking about lately:

1 - How did Staples run before I came back?

With 1 exception they have quite literally called me every day since 2 days before I was supposed to officially start, either to come in earlier than I was supposed to, or to come in on days I wasn't scheduled. Every day but one. They left a message again this morning. If I go in, it will be 5 of 7 days that I have gone in early or on a day I was not expecting to. I hate to say no. I love that they can count on me to come in whenever they ask, and I feel trusted and important. It's nice. But I have writing to do, and x-box to play, and I don't want to work everyday.
I should really call them back and say no, or go in for a couple of hours just to help, 'cause I know what it's like when they're really short staffed, and it's no fun. But I REALLY just wanted to sit at home for a day. Seriously.

2 - Selfishness (sorry, it's a vague one)

I hate how sometimes, especially when one is really close to someone, one's desire to be close and to have times shared with the person overwhelm one's ability to even tell if one is still doing the best thing for them. It's so selfish to think about how much you want to be with someone, how much you want to spend time with them and do things for them that you want to prevent them from living their own lives. I didn't used to think I was like this. Maybe I was spoiled by being with someone who had very little social activity outside of spending time with me. I would never really try to limit someone I love in their ability to spend time with others or to have experiences. But there are times when these things are really difficult for everyone involved. For example, have you ever had the experience where you really wanted to share a place, or a piece of artwork that was really close and personal to yourself, something that made up a huge part of your identity, with someone you loved, and then somehow they had the opportunity to experience it with someone else? A small example would be a movie, a big one would be a place, like a place you visited that REALLY moved you, or the place where you grew up. And the bigger the opportunity, the more you care, and the less you can expect them to turn it down just because it would bother you. I can't stand to ask someone I love to live a more limited life because of my selfish desire to share an experience with them, but I can't stand the idea of them having this experience without me there to share it, without me there to see their face the moment that they see/hear/feel it like I did. And when it's so powerful, they know you feel this way, and you can't hide it, but you feel SO guilty letting them know, like you're trying to manipulate them into saying no, into waiting to do it with you. It's all so awkward and angsty.

I guess we just have to learn to let go of these things. To make them unimportant. But there's such a big part of me that wonders if letting these things become unimportant, as necessary as it might be to feeling happy and comfy, is what lets the passion out of a relationship. I wonder if it's giving up expectations, letting little disappointments go, coming to terms with not getting the things you're passionate about, the things you really want, that leads to falling out of love.

I suppose it's like anything else. We temper it with moderation, we cool ourselves, and we prioritise the things that are REALLY important over the things that aren't. The only problem then is gauging what is important enough to make a fuss about and what isn't. I would love to be so easygoing that the person I love could do anything they wanted, because I want them to be happy and free, but it's obvious that can't happen, everything someone does, and doubly so when you love them, affects you somehow, and you can't just turn off all your feelings because it would make someone else happier, and of course, shouldn't be asked to. Even monogamy has been a problem that way. I would love to let the person I'm with keep their relationships with others separate from their relationship with me, to know that if they tell me they love me, they mean it, and that someone else doesn't have to affect that. And I used to be ok at that, but now I'm fucking awful. I am a different person now, and in a lot of ways, I don't like who I've become. I feel so much weaker about my own needs, so much more demanding of the people I love. I never wanted to be like that.

Man, this has become like a novel. I guess I'll stop that one now.

3 - Josh Ritter

I saw Josh Ritter in concert recently. Now, I already believed Josh Ritter to be one of the best songwriters I had ever heard, and now I also think he's one of the best performers. He is unavoidably CHARMING on stage. I expected him to be a bit serious, intensely artistic, because his writing is so literary, so intellectual. But he's got a sort of a southern farm boy charm that completely belies his brilliance. (Not to say that southern farm boys can't be brilliant, simply that goofy grins are not generally associated with towering intellects. Although if I expect my novel to be successful, I can't really say that, can I?)

The long and the short of it is, if you have the opportunity to see Josh Ritter in concert, do so. If you have not heard his albums, particularly "The Animal Years" and "The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter," I suggest picking them up for a listen. You will not be disappointed.

4 - X-Box

I recently picked up an X-box. Thus far I have three games, any of which I could write an entire Livejournal entry about, not only because they are excellent as games, but because they really push me to think, as a good book would. I may do review/commentary entries about them sometime, but for now here's a simple list:

A) Assassin's Creed - Set in the Holy Land in the time of the Crusades, (well, with a more complicated premise that I won't go into in this entry) this game is all about different factions, different political ideals, and whether the ends justify the means. Also it's just bloody fun to leap on a guards back and stab him with a hidden wrist blade.

B) Bioshock - Set in an anarchist's dream city built at the bottom of the Ocean circa 1940, Warren Spector (of System Shock 2 and Deus Ex fame) has created another ridiculously creepy, yet extremely fun shooter. Maintaining his style of FPS+RPG to create a shooter with a little more depth to it, and with a fascinating setting and story, the game just...rocks.

C) Mass Effect - I have said it before and I will say it again. Nearly nobody makes games as well as Bioware. I REALLY want to work for this company. (Sadly it would mean living in Alberta, or worse, Texas) This most recent effort, which is one of the big reasons I wanted an X-box, takes their standard style of D&D style character creation and development and combines it with the recent trend of squad based third person shooters, without of course forgetting their absolutely top-notch dialogue and almost unparalleled depth of setting. Even given its own entry, I could not talk about how much I LOVE this company's work. They represent the reason I am a gamer.

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight

I can has love plz.

2008-01-17T12:40:56Z

Hey Kids,

I used to find it fairly easy to let go when people didn't respond to my attempts to contact them. I used to just say "ahh well, their loss" and move on. But I wouldn't ignore people trying to contact me, even if I didn't much want to speak to them, I'd be polite.

Lately, I am so sensitive. I hope that it's just another step on the road to getting better again, but since all of this, every time someone neglects to message me back I have started to take it personally. I vacillate between feeling sad that people aren't interested in relating to me, and being angry at people for thinking they can just coldly disregard me.

If someone has asked me not to contact them, I have always respected their wishes. I can't stand just not receiving any response. And I don't WANT to be this sort of person. I don't want to care.

When I feel the most insecure, I think there must be some reason they won't talk to me. Either something real about me (I'm not academic enough, I'm not smart enough, I'm not interesting enough) or more of the lies that surrounded and fueled the collapse of my emotional stability and self esteem.

I don't THINK there's anything wrong with me, and I KNOW I should just go back to my "their loss" perspective, if I want to be happy. I can't control other people's feelings, nor their impoliteness. But my feelings seem disproportionate. Perhaps I feel every rejection the way that I felt that big one. Like little shock waves moving outward from the explosion, like waves leftover from a storm.

I don't want to be changed by this. I am not willing to let go of who I am, of the person I've been proud to be, simply because my relationship ended so violently.

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight.

New Poetry Journal!

2007-12-19T14:53:25Z

Hey Kids,

I have started a new journal for poetry. I will still be using this one, but feel free to add the poetry one as well if you like. The new poetry journal is: swingloverswing

More updates coming soon.
Until next time,
I'm Ktwilight

ktwilight @ 2007-12-18T01:18:00

2007-12-18T01:52:59Z

Hey kids.

I'm crying again. And I'm drunk...again.

Why do I care so much? Why can't I just let go? Clearly she has. I want to say six years is a long time to just let go of. Love is a big thing to forget. But she can say that too, and look at her. Cloud fucking nine. Not my place. Why does she get to be happy?

God, I'm a wreck. I sound like a drunken, heartbroken cliche. But it's what I really think, what I really feel. I am alone. I have friends, but I am alone in this. I am SURE people feel this way, lots of people have had long term relationships break up. Lots of people have been left for someone else, been accused of things by people they loved. Why don't I just grow up and move on?

I can't stop THINKING about her. It's not fair that she can do that. I never could. I wanted to be with other people, but I never forgot, nor wanted to forget, being with her. I never wanted that to end. I still think about her everyday and we haven't talked in like two months. (aside from the hateful email) EVERYDAY. And I'll bet she doesn't even miss me. She sounded so happy, in her posts. All of them, before she sent me that message, when we weren't talking. She's in love. Good for her. I wish I was. I wish I could stop missing it. I wish I didn't feel so empty, so broken. It's stupid because most of the time I don't. Because I know I WANT to be better. Because I love myself. Because I don't want to die. But I'm... angry. And sad. And bitter. And pathetic, maybe.

You're not supposed to make it about you. It's not healthy to take these things inside, to make them personal, to hang your self-esteem on someone else's love and approval. But what do you do when someone you would give anything for, not only stops loving you, but hates you for loving and needing them? What do you do when someone cares more about lies than they do about you? After years of doing everything you could to be good to them, they tell you you are not worth even speaking to? What do you do when you realise that you are worthless?

I know, anyone who cares, anyone who's trying to help, will tell me that I'm not. That she shouldn't have hurt me, that I don't deserve it. They'll tell me that she did it to protect herself, that she needed it. I believe that. But it doesn't matter. How could she, if I was worth something? How could she, if I was worthy of love, if she felt, for even a second, the way I have felt about her for every minute of 6 years, how could she make me feel so worthless? How could she be fulfilled and happy and loving, not only without me, but BY abandoning me?

I am weak. I am pathetic and stupid and empty. And I know that. I am so lost.

I don't want sympathy. I'm not asking for love, or caring, or hugs or anything. I just needed to get it out. She never understood that. Still doesn't, probably.

I'll sleep it off, now, try and get better.

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight

Alright, alright, I AM the Messiah.

2007-12-05T00:27:12Z

Hey Kids,

Saw Handel's Messiah this weekend. How wonderful. Haven't been spending a lot of time online because of advice from a good friend (whom I miss DEARLY), and because I am finding a lot to do out here. I will be heading down to Wiltshire for a few days starting tomorrow, with a stop at Stratford on Avon on the way. I am EXCITED. It means also that I will not be online much for the next week. Don't think for a second that I don't love and miss you all. I will post new poetry for you sometime as well, when I get the chance. Some good stuff, actually.

In other news, I made the best mix CD I have ever made this week. It was a new friend of mine's birthday, and she's been very sweet and listened to me get drunk and complain about how hard my life is lately, so I thought she deserved a really good gift. I made her a two-disc, themed mix CD, and it is honestly the BEST I have ever done, both in terms of just how good the music is and how well it works, and for how well it works to represent certain things about me. I am SO proud of it, in case you can't tell. If you like, when you see me online, or if you feel like it by email, ask me and I'll send you a tracklist, or copy of the cover or something.

Anyone who was worried about me can stop worrying. I am making my life happen. I am just going to walk away from all this hurt and learn how to be me again.

Hope you are all well. Love to you all.

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight.

Life's Sad Lessons

2007-11-26T14:56:17Z

Hey Kids,

I am doing a little better than I was. Sadly, I have realised that someone in my life whom I tried very hard to get close to, and whom I cared very much about was dishonest with me throughout our entire relationship, and has made it her life's mission not only to make me feel like I am a terrible person, but to convince other people I care about of the same. She has destroyed the possibility of me ever having a friendship with someone who I thought would, and always wanted, as part of my life, through her intense emotional problems and dishonesty both to herself and to others, and worst of all, she has worked herself into that person's life as a trusted friend. Since this person has decided not to have any contact with me anymore (which I respect, but would be less upset by if it wasn't because of what are mainly lies and unfairness) I can't even warn them of this person's negative effects on everything around her. I can only hope that their relationship goes very differently from hers and mine, and that she one day learns to be a healthy and honest person. She has hurt me more than almost anyone I have ever met, without even having gotten that close to me, and I wish I had never met her.

Neither of those people will read this, I am sure, and even if they did, they would probably think that I am being manipulative and slimy, as they seem to have painted me. But, as I have said many times, I have only tried to do the right thing, and I admit my mistakes, but I can only do the right thing for people who are honest with me about how they feel and what they want. I can only control what I am informed of. I wish I had known before any damage was caused how often and how deeply this person lied to me in her unbearable need to please others beyond her own wellbeing. I wish that I could have prevented her from being hurt by that, but I have searched my soul, and until it was too late, I honestly believe there was nothing else I could have done.

Nothing in my life, I have realised, hurts me more than someone else manipulating me into hurting them, and then blaming me for every part of it.
"You do it to yourself, you do, and that's what really hurts"

But I have lost someone from my life who meant a lot to me, and if she is relieved and happy because she no longer has the pressures of a long term relationship, and the responsibility of caring for another person who you no longer love, I am very glad of that, because I wanted, and want, nothing but her happiness, including if that means no longer being with me. I wanted us to remain friends however, and I wanted to be able to have happy memories we could share. It is heartbreaking to me that because of this deceitful and imbalanced person, that will never be. I can only hope that one day the truth will come out. That one day both my memory and memories of me will be cleansed of the taint that this person's poison has poured into my life.

I have and will continue to work to be the kind of person that people will be happy to know. The kind of person who can bring joy to people, and happiness at close connections, and I will continue to be the honest, open, straightforward person that I believe I have been. And I hope that one day, the people I treated that way will realise that I did, and that I did so with others as well. If in a relationship of 6 years, there was never a lie, there was never a reason for doubt that I would be similarly honest and careful with the other people I was close to. I worked very hard, and always will, to fully inform everyone of my feelings and of the situation before they become involved with me, and my continuing and renewed relationships with people I have been close to, demonstrate to me that I have succeeded, with the exception of this one case. Whether it was the miscommunications between us, of which there were many, or dishonesty on her part with herself or with me that lead to this hurt, I cannot be certain, but I have striven to make the sacrifices and hold up the safeguards I needed to to have the life I wanted and prevent the people I was close to, and myself, from being hurt, and I will continue to do so.

Be very careful when you trust others, and don't so easily believe people when they claim to have forgiven you for mistakes, or when they tell you that they are happy and that things are working well. I hate that I have had to learn this lesson. Becoming less trusting is never something I wanted to have to do.

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight

An apology and a plea.

2007-11-24T12:19:30Z

Hey Kids,

I got an email today that confirmed every fear I have ever had about myself. Every hope I had that I could be a good person is basically wasted away. I WANT to be better. I NEED to be better. But if I don't mean to hurt, if I don't KNOW I'm manipulating, how can I fix it, without the help of the people I love, the people who care about me?

I am honestly contemplating suicide in a way that I haven't in many years. I don't think I will do it, because I am not...made that way. Because I don't have the guts, and because I don't think it FIXES anything. But I am at the point where I don't see how I can fix what is apparently wrong with me.

All I tried to do was be honest and express my feelings and have the things I felt like I needed. I tried to balance the needs and requests of others alongside mine, and I thought that I had succeeded most of the time. It turns out however, that I never did that. Perhaps I need psychiatric help, perhaps there is some part of me that prevents me from seeing when people are hurting, and when I am treating them unfairly. I care DEEPLY about others. I hope that everyone I have cared for knows that. I hope that no one thinks that I was ever apathetic about them, or that I ever used them intentionally.

If you read this, and you think "that's me," if I have ever hurt you, please let me know. I want nothing more than to make amends for the hurt I have caused. I want nothing more than to learn how to be better, how to consider others and love them in a way where they will know it, and not feel like a convenience or a fling. I want to learn how to be the kind of person who can love and be loved in a way that will not hurt others or myself.

Please, if I have ever hurt you, let me know, and let me make amends.
And if you ever can, please find it in your heart to try and forgive me. I never meant for it to be this way.

If I am not forgivable, if I am a monster, and you truly believe that I care nothing for you or for the other people I have been close to, I am sorry. And I hope you have a wonderful life, and find people who will not hurt you the way that I have.

Love to all of you, honestly.
~Ralph

I'm Sorry.

2007-11-23T12:54:42Z

Hey Kids,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything. I'm sorry I'm even writing this, and when you're sorry for being sorry, you know something is really wrong. I need to find a reset button for myself. I just need to get back to clear, and clean, and open to the possible.

"You'll remember me, when the west wind moves, among the fields of barley, you'll forget the sun, in his jealous sky, as we lie in fields of gold."

There are times when I just KNOW I don't deserve to feel this bad, and there are times when I think every inch of it is my fault. That I ask too much of everyone I love, that I pushed everyone away, and that I can only force negative energy into everyone's life, as I take all the positive for myself. I just want to LIVE again, without feeling so empty.

"Please take me dancing tonight, I've been all on my own, you promised one day we could,
that's what you said on the phone, I'm just a prisoner of love, always hid from the light,
take me dancing, please take me dancing tonight."

God, I used to write interesting things. I used to be a fireball. I used to hold you and show you that the whole world was ours, and now I have nothing but these memories of songs sung to you, and words written for you. These memories of the park behind the mall, and of tears wiped away after crashed cars, of the smell of hair dye and of talking all night long. I remember a kiss that brought me to the floor, and nights I did nothing but think of you. I remember someone who never judged me, someone who never hurt me, someone who was always there, always listened and always cared and never told me a lie. Someone who let me into a world I never could have imagined, and a world I know I will never get to again.

"If I was on the outside, looking at the inside, I would burn this place to the ground, straight to the ground, now."

I look through the windows to see the happiness everywhere. I hear the sound of laughter, and the amazing language of a little boy discovering the world. I see a whole life I know I will need. I could be happy alone, couldn't I? SHOULDN'T I? It used to mean something, when I said that. I used to know. It isn't being alone that stops me from being able to be alone, it's that desperation, that works both ways, of something being taken from me. God I just want someone to listen. Someone to show myself to, someone to help me remind myself that if I really want to, I can do ANYTHING. I can move mountains, with the right motivation, I can stir souls and send hearts soaring. You just watch me. But you have to want to hear it. You have to want to see it. And I have not got that. I have no audience. I am an empty hall. No bookings.

"I don't make promises lightly, and there have been some that I've broken, but I swear in the days still left, we'll walk in fields of gold"

I hear the words in my head again and again, "I will never leave you. I will never hurt you like she did." Everyone says that. They aren't lying, any of them. Circumstances to follow cannot be controlled. Promises are not forever. I am not STUPID. I know it's like that for me too, or it would be if I weren't such a freak. A monster. Split down the middle of the heart, separate compartments for lovers, and arts.

"I am everything you want, I am everything you need, I am everything inside of you that you wish you could be, I say all the right things at exactly the right time, but I mean nothing to you and you don't know why."

I wasn't worth it anymore. I understand that. I'm painful and draining, 'cause I need to be with someone like me. I need to be with a multiplicitous heart, with an ear that doesn't carry weight, with an open mind and an open soul, who understands that I just need to talk sometimes. That I am made of words, and feelings, and they need expression. That it doesn't mean you have to fix me, that it doesn't mean you have to be weighed down, that it doesn't mean you have feel guilty for the fact that I feel. Sometimes we say the wrong thing, when the thunder pours out, sometimes we ache so much from loving that the fire engulfs us. But I am not a man who carries hatred, or anger, I am not made for holding grudges or judging or hurting. I would suffer for you, if you asked me to. And I would not mind.

"Oh the distance is not do-able, in these bodies of clay my brother, oh the distance makes me uncomfortable, guess it's natural to feel this way"

I am melting in the suns of ten planets, even as the cold wind blows up under my nose.
I am waiting for the words of the churches to sing to the soul and bring me to light.
I am calling the future to come down and wreak its might and its passion upon me.
There is a night to come when all will be put right. But it is not this night.
There is a night to come where all the fighting and crying and cursing will calm. But it is not this night.
There is a night to come when I will see angels again. But it is not this night.
There is a night to come when happiness will touch my lips like soft sweet syrup. But it is not this night.
There is a night to come when I will get better.
But it is not this night.

"She would never say where she came from, yesterday don't matter if it's gone"

I am climbing. You know it. I will be me again. I am fighting everyday to find myself again. There are downsides. This week they have been worse than I ever thought they would be again, since I left home. But I will not give up. I will not let this make me what I used to be. I will not let anymore be taken from me by this cruel life. I will not let the sun set on nightmares anymore. I will watch the fire of its descent and let it fuel me for the darkness to come.

"Come on, Come on, put your hands into the fire"

I am a flame. It is how I'm made. And I will burn again. I miss your voice. Just tell me you love me.

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight

P.S. If these entries are too boring for you, or too depressing, let's play a game. I'll keep using lyrics in my posts, as I like to, to connect with what I'm saying, and I'll make 'em bold like I did here, and if you don't want to comment on the content of the entry, you can just guess the song and the artist of any or all of the lyrics, some will be really easy, some will be more obscure. A good game can be your reward for listening to me blab on. You can even comment anonymously. I don't mind.

Helpless.

2007-11-23T00:44:09Z

Hey Kids,

Sometimes I wonder if people really want to understand each other. We're all very quick to notice what is WRONG with everyone else. We're all very quick to hurt other people, and judge other people, and point out what other people are doing that's wrong. It seems to be human nature to waste a lot of time on judgment, instead of looking for ways to give understanding, to be accepting and to care.

I always TRY to do the right thing. I always wanted to be a better person. To be a GOOD person. And lately I wonder WHY I do that. It seems like, forgive me for saying this, a waste. I give and give, and work so hard, and yes I make mistakes, yes I have hurt people, but at the end of the day, I feel like I, along with a lot of people I know, just get, in return for their being so wonderful, HURT, and often hurt by the very people they go out of their way to make sacrifices for, and to be good to. And the worst part is, it's not anyone's fault, you can't BLAME anybody, or hate anybody, it's just the world. And I want to believe that you do it for some internal reason, that being good is really WORTH IT on the inside. That your positive energy will bring other positive energy your way. And maybe it does. Maybe that's why I have had such GOOD people in my life.

I just wish I could carry the weight, I wish I could defend and protect and care for everyone all the time. I wish I could change the world. I wish it would MEAN something to anybody. But at the end of the day, it will only be what I was. It will only be a meaningless drop of salve in an ocean of hurt.

Sometimes I think that it's about the expectation that others will do as you do, or the realisation that if you don't do it, you can't expect anyone to, and that you can only control your own actions. That's all well and good a message, when you're not starving, looking through the open window at a loaf of bread, or homeless looking at a wallet filled with money, or an addict, looking at a stack of needles. It's all well and good, when you're not hurting. But we all hurt all the time, and you can't be strong everyday, and everyday someone isn't strong enough, and everyday someone gets hurt, and everyday, things get a little heavier, and a little harder.

I just want to MEAN something, to somebody. REALLY mean something. And at the end of the day, the only one I'll mean something to, is me. No matter how hard we try. It's only you. And that doesn't mean don't love, it doesn't mean don't trust. It just means.....*sigh*

I'm sorry I'm such a downer, I swear I used to be positive.

Maybe I'll be hopeful again in the morning.

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight.

Wanted: Heart Cartographer

2007-11-21T14:04:03Z

Hey Kids,

Don't stay up all night. Even if it's important. I am very tired, and I know that tomorrow it is only going to be worst. The second day is always worse. And we're going to YORK tomorrow. I will have to be an extra good Ralph and sleep a lot tonight.

Sometimes I don't know where I am anymore. Like there's a map in my head of what my relationships, what my life was going to look like, and what I wanted, and someone spilled water all over it and smeared the ink. Now not only is it impossible to know how to get to where I want to be, I don't even know where that is anymore. I was chatting with this barmaid at the pub the other night. She was really nice, and I had had a few drinks, and I wanted to completely spill my heart out, (so typical of me, right?) but I couldn't burden her with everything. I can't do that to anyone anymore. I just have to go back to enjoying what I am and where I am, and just keep pushing forward. Like the shark, I need to keeping moving forward to survive.
I carve a line into the places I've been, like footsteps back, hoping that this path would lead me home. But you can't go home when you have no home anymore. You can't go home when the locks have been changed, but the real pain is that the fire still burns, as warm and hot as ever.

Seedlings of inspiration nestled into little corners of my mind, they pick at me to produce, to grow and flower the insignificant roses of written art, the thousand teardrops that drop into the ocean, indiscernible from the masses.
I lick my wounds in this paradise of English winter, neverminding the crowing of the corveday, the whispers of the blustery night wind, the foreign mouths spill familiarity on my ears. An empty, desperate longing burns. I can only hope, everyday that I will come closer to you again, ANY of you. Like starvation, it waxes and wanes, but each time it comes it comes heavier, harder to carry. And I have to choose these things, I have to find the place that's worth the most, the place I can actually call home again, in my heart, or in hers.

I am broken teeth, missing their usefulness, aching with exposed pulp cores, nerves that even a breath of wind spins into agony. I am thunder in the night, all sound and fury but no truth, no revelation, no power. I serve only to frighten children in the night, serve only to gum without success at the potential sustenance of love. I am a whirling dervish without beliefs, twirling around a ballroom in complete loss, but no abandon. If I could only let go and spin free of my need, if I could only break out of the dizziness, break out of the low. It is amazing how one can walk the same path that lovers have walked throughout history, and yet still there is no map to guide you, still you feel as if you are the first to feel.

I have made SOME progress on my novel, but not nearly as much as I would have liked. Maybe I will pick a day, like I said I would, to actually set down a lot of words, to actually just churn things out, good or not, at least then I'm moving towards what I want to be, towards what I want to do.

If you're reading this, come take me home.

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight

The Name of the Rose and the Torturer's Pocket

2007-11-19T11:43:21Z

Hey Kids,

I saw "The Name of the Rose" last night. I have been meaning to read that book for a long time. If I'm honest, ever since I read Eco's "Foucault's Pendulum" in high school. One of the most difficult reads of my life, I don't mind telling you.

The movie was quite good, and made me want to read the book even more. Remembering the style of Eco's writing, and mixing it with the story of the film leads me to imagine quite an excellent read. I own the book at home in Winnipeg, so when I return to my old life there, I will pick it up (assuming I can actually get myself to read... <.<

I wish I could say I would wait for you forever, because I wish I could, I wish it would mean to you what it means to me, and not seem like an effort thrown to the winds, a life wasted in solitude. I wish I could say I will love you until the sun blacks out, until the world turns cold, but for me, a life without you feels tantamount to that, so how will I know when to stop loving?
I wish I could say that I wouldn't get better, that I'll suffer so empty forever and ever, but I know there's some future out there. I don't want to wake up from this nightmare of sleep, to give up on love in the daylight. I don't want to let go of desperate strands that I cling to, remembering beauty. How can one simply let go of a love that breaks windows and iceflows and morning? How can one stop hearing constant reminders that re-ignite hearts into loving?
Don't tell me I'm sad, I'm pathetic, I know. To lie here and cling to my suffering. Force myself not to call, hold my face to the wall, hold myself in a ball 'till the morning.
If the balance of energies truly exists, some loves must be having their heyday. For suffering eyes spill their tears into streams that become the seas that bathe lovers.
I cannot question the means of the world. I have no key to its answers. I am but a man with my heart in my hand, beating, and bloodied, but offered.

I also walked last night in the dark English evening, coated in a soft English mist. The street lamps lit up the stone walls, the cars passed close and loud in the tight, curving streets, the night was filled with sparkling fires to catch the eyes and the soul. I love it here.

I've got a million things to say.

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight

"I used to think it mattered, I used to think that MUSIC mattered,

2007-11-14T21:39:18Z

but does it? bollocks. Not compared to how people matter."

Hey kids,

This is for you. A very good friend of mine, who, in a recent conversation told me that talking about politics wasn't interesting.

If you think that, do me a favour. Go out and rent a movie called "Brassed Off." And if you want to, read a little about Margaret Thatcher. I know that you like movies about epic battles, and romance (in the sense of a quest, in the sense of a grail, not a love story). I know that you like movies about heroes. This is where it meets up. This is where what I'm talking about comes home. This is where you'll meet me, and you'll see what I mean. THIS is where you'll find your heroes. And politics. And I promise you, it's not only interesting, it's mind blowing, it's moving, it's heartrending. And it's true. Not these characters, this band, but people, as I'm sure you know.

And don't for a minute tell me that politics isn't interesting.

Like most things in life, you just have to know how to look at it. You taught me that yourself.

Until next time,
I'm Ktwilight.

P.S. This movie was made all around where I am, so if you keep your eyes open, you'll see things I took pictures of. :')

ktwilight @ 2007-11-14T02:44:00

2007-11-14T03:17:04Z

Hey Kids,

I am having a lovely time over here. As you can see if you have visited my Facebook albums, I have seen a hundred beautiful things, that I always wanted to see, experienced places I've always wanted to experience, and seen things I had never thought of or heard of, but that I now love. That said, I need to do this emo thing again. Feel free to ignore it if you like. I honestly don't mind. This, as I say, is all for me.

Sometimes I'm not strong enough to not hate, lately. I want so badly to be full of mercy, full of understanding, full of love to pass around. I hate feeling like I am worthless. But I do. I am over here and everyone is so caring and sweet, but I do. I feel like the people I miss the most, want the most, need the most, don't need me at all, or need me in selfish ways that make them hurt me and hurt other people, or need me in ways that don't matter, because they can't be fulfilled. I feel like the only person I could relate to and talk to since Chala and I broke up, I can't confide in anymore because there's a huge wall between us, because I'm too far away, because the world is made of difficult situations.

Every morning I wake up and the first things that run through my head are memories, sweet memories of things that I no longer have, that I miss desperately. I wake up in the morning and the first thing that runs through my heart is grief. I feel empty and heartbroken. I want so desperately to have someone come here and hold me and rock me to sleep and be here in the morning when I wake up. Someone who's not too selfish or too weak or too scared or too separate from me to want to or to be able to help. Someone who CARES about me. I want to go out with people who are my age, who are fun and who know me, who I won't have to tell the whole story to. I want to be ABLE TO BREATHE. I am so tensed up. So full of missing.

And then I read things, by accident, things I know I shouldn't read, about how people are happy, and it goes through my head like a thousand miles per second: How can she be so happy while I'm so crushed by this? How can it not matter like it does to me? Why can things be so easy for her and not me? And then the guilt: I want her to be happy. It's true, I do. And I'm a terrible person for feeling BAD that she's happy. But God. I'm so alone. I'm so...hurt. I feel so empty. Everything that made my life make sense for 6 years is over, and that gets clearer everyday that we have no contact. And that is the literal truth, not an emotional exaggeration. It was my anchor, my home, my warm place, my sanctuary. I could do ANYTHING because it was a part of me. And I know that there were problems, and I don't blame her for being honest, for being done, if things were done. Nothing wrong with that, no hate here. I just feel.....alone. I feel like nothing that used to make sense makes ANY sense anymore. I feel like I'm walking backwards just writing this, and like I just need to let go and grow up and move on, and then I can have my best friend back....maybe. And trust me, there isn't anything I want more. Isn't anything I long for more, than to just move on and be happy again.

But there are layers, layers and layers of this. I am trying to move on in ways that I thought would help. That I hoped would be safe and just shake this whole thing out of me, but I'm still suffering with that and now there's more. There are all these relationships that are ruined, whether because of me or not, I don't know, I can't tell anymore. It's probably partly me and partly others, just like everything. I want to give all of this LOVE to someone. I want to express this FIRE inside me as something constructive, something powerful, and I want it to MEAN something. But I don't mean anything anymore. I don't. I can mean half-thoughts, half-realised dreams. I can mean "we'll always haves" and "don't forget mes" and "I miss yous" and I can mean "I'm sorry I have to gos" too. I can mean all these things, but they are all meaningless meanings, in terms of what I need. They are all lovelost and niggling. And inside me there is a fire. There is a fire that says find someone who makes you want to be a better man, and let them make you a better man. It says throw yourself into her arms and damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead. And it has a target, but it is a target that will never be hit, and a target I will always deliberately miss. So I am here. Begging for a chance to see some sunlight, to understand the world as me, alone, again. And to move on to someone who wants the things I want, or with whom I want something different than I have in the past, and who can be the things that I need.
Right now I would settle for someone just lying here with me and holding me, and letting me cry into their shoulder, or lying here and making love to me in that soft way that you do, when you're doing it because you love someone and they need you to be close to them, need you to show them that they MEAN something to you that's deeper, that's more than just saying "I hope you feel better" or "I care about you." Please, come here and hold me, ok?

Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight.