Well…..it looks like Fairfax Virginia isn’t all that bad. I think okay thoughts to myself as I strut around in my favorite high heels on a warm night in August. It’s definitely a uni town. At least there are some bars I can trash…..hopefully. I breath in the smells of good food and good pints that are out there trying to call to me as I hear the clicking of my heels against the sidewalk.
I come across a sign of sorts…..Fat Tuesday’s……hmmm…..I’ll give this a shot. With my hands in the pockets of my slick black bodysuit, I walk in to find a very…American atmosphere. It’s got a shit load of pictures on the wall…a big TV with their so called ‘football’ playing in the background and a big American flag. For some reason, everything that screams American in this place gives me the creeps, but….who am I to judge? I slowly approach the bar, scanning for any pint that looks good when the bartender signals my way asking me “Care for anything?” to which I reply “Get me a pint of…..surprise me.”
The bartender is taken back a bit, but proceeds to pour me a fair looking pint and hands it to me. “Would you like to start a tab?” I reply “No, I’ll pay.” I hand the bartender one of my fresh looking 20 dollar bills out of my sleek wallet and he hands me back my change that looks like it’s been through the wars. I fold every bill up the best I can and put my money back in its place.
I take my freezing pint into my hand and give it a little sip. Hmm….rich…a bit of chocolate…..not bad. I turn around to see that a band is setting up to play. I proceed to scan my surroundings, hoping to see any smoking hot bitches around, but to my disappointment, I only see some old looking shags and stuck up little boys around me with their Bud Light American beers and stupid socks that only go part way up the calf. I can’t help but shiver at the thought of seeing that. They’re all so stuck up and stupid. Oh well…..guess it’s time for Shiloh to break through and fuck shit up.
When suffering knocks at your door and you say there is no seat for him, he tells you not to worry because he has brought his own stool. CHINUA ACHEBE, attributed, Chinua Achebe: A Celebration
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There was a reason I left England
I just needed to get away from the pain
I’ve been through more than some can even imagine
and sometimes, those memories can stay with you
and never go away
Unfortunately, some of those memories
make me who I am today.
Even though I may feel proud to be who I am on the outside
I know in my heart that I will probably not stay like this forever.
And with my parents
they have treated me unlike most parents treat their children
even though they might seem like they care to others
I can see that they only give a shit about themselves…
Before coming to the states, they showered me with their money
And now, I know why…
…they gladly wanted me shipped off and away.
They have now wiped away
a tarnished spot on their pride.
Hopefully, I’ll be able to start fresh across the large ocean.
I just want to be happy
without my parents
and with the perfect girlfriend.
So, I literally just went back over my category “Stories” and I cringed just a little bit.
I’ve never really been a good, solid writer. Hell, english was never my best subject when in school. But I did put my heart and soul into my stories that I wrote eons ago. Maybe that’s what counts, right?
But just looking back at my 3 (or such) posts in that category, I thought to myself…..ouch…..that’s cringe-worthy writing.
But in the spirit of pushing past my woes of late…..why don’t I give this writing stories thing another go. I know they won’t be that great, but sometimes, it’s the thoughts that count…….right???
…I used to roleplay. Not the L.A. kind of roleplaying that makes up LARPing but the wordy kind of roleplay that let me create characters and stories right off the top of my head.
And when I used to roleplay, I actually liked it. And because I liked it, I actually started getting better at English. 0_0
But now, since (insert number here) years have passed since I have actively roleplayed anything, my almost-seemingly natural talent of creating characters and stories right off the top of my head have vanished. I’ve been wanting to get this talent back for quite some time now, but there are ultimately 2 problems that stand in the way of this.
One of those problems is my insistent “motivation” problem that has seemingly plagued me more and more the further I’ve gotten into schooling. Basically, I’m just typical-colleging almost everything in my life right now (which I need to turn around pronto….stat…..ASAP…..)
The other problem with this is that I’m just flat out scared to start putting my blurbs and writings out there for the world to see. I’m not grammar-nazi person, my writings look absolutely nothing like that of an actual author, and I’ve always struggled and sucked at English. I feel like I’m gonna get some comments that simply say “THIS SUCKS MAJOR BALLS” and stuff…..
So, what I’m going to do is this. Should I just take a leap of faith and start putting some of my stuff up on here?
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In other words…it reached the 70’s where I live today…once again showing