I have been eating potato chips and bean dip...Eep. I always feel so guilty and unhealthy when I indulge in that kind of snack food, so I don't eat it often but mmmm was it good! Although so salty. Ick. My lips were already chapped and it burned as I ate my snack, but it was still so yummy. Now my lips are so chapped they are rather red and moist as though I have been eating a cherry popsicle or slathered on an obscene amount of cheap red lipstick. Great. Stupid naturally overpigmented lips *rolls eyes*
Today I read and shuffled about and was tired. I have been too tired lately to think much and I might be totally bereft of things to say. BUT, guess what...I found my beloved lost notebook!!!!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
I am so excited!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! REKEKEKEKEKE!!! I am so thrilled!!!!!!!!! There is going to be SOOO much for me to pore over in that notebook. Original manuscripts of poems, heaps of unfinished Geldabor stories (AND the one and only finished Geldabor story!!!!), and lots of brainstorms and plot development notes hitherto lost and forgotten. I fear that my writing muse will seize me and I will be carried away from my secret project and the computer altogether to finish some of these stories! I would like to be able to show a few people a finished Geldabor story. I think it would be heartily enjoyed.
But for tonight, I would like to share some old poetry and writing of mine.
First off, my very very very very first poem. We had to do a unit on poetry in English class in 8th grade and this included a project where we had to write different kinds of poetry. I still have the poetry book and those first poems. But I would really like to point out my very first poem which I wrote for the project. Here goes
Fly fly butterfly
Over the hills and far away
See things I never have seen
And bring me back their broken dreams.
More recent alternate version: (more recent as in about almost a full year ago)
Fly fly butterfly
Over the hills and far away
See things I never have seen
And leave me here, sad and serene
I have more old poems but they suck. Major. I was bad. Very bad. One day I might go fetch "The Painting". That's a halfway decent old poem. Although it dates from the same time as The Star Maiden and Disconnected. "The Painting" got tossed aside though because I really hated it. Still not a big fan of the wording, but I do kind of like it's theme and content.
Last, is...well...uhm...something I wrote... It isn't an essay, and it isn't a story of any sort. It is just some thoughts I jotted down. Kind of like what I tend to write here, but it's OLD SKOOL YO! I know, slang?!?!?! But that describes it best. This is a full year old!!!! HOLY MOLEY!!! And I only sent it in an email to Schizatch so this is rare and previously unreleased to the public! Feel privileged! Vintage Megan!!!! A year might not be a long time to some, but for me it still can be. I changed a whole lot in a year. Not physically...heh...but mentally and spirtually, I went through a lot of change. But I am rambling and digressing. So without further ado,
I have been reading An Acceptable Time by Madeline L'Engle and it has forced me to think about the mysteries of time. Not letting the moment escape and my thoughts be fruitless, I felt the need to write down my ponderings.The Flow of the River
As humans and mortal creatures, time seems to flow like a river. We cannot go back, only forward in the time prescribed us. Time is not necassarily consistent. Sometimes the river flows swiftly and sometimes the river flows slowly. The speed always depends on the viewpoint. Think, for example, you are having a great time at a party. Time flows quickly and an hour flys by like 5 minutes. Then think of the hours spent in a waiting room. There, an hour creeps like a day. We have simply found a rough way to harness our viewpoint of time and make it consistent so that we may have a small semblance of order and control over that which is uncontrollable and far more ordered than anything we could comprehend.
Circles of Time
Far more overwhelming is the working of time. Our God is timeless. He does not see time as a river, for it is not. Time is many flowing circles. Something a human, mortal mind, can barely comprehend. As this instant, as I write, a Native American girl may be sitting in this exact spot 400 or more years ago. At this instant, Tolkien is writing, King David is singing, Jesus is preaching. That is how time works although we are not meant to function in the circles of time and we cannot comprehend it. A wonderful example of the circles of time would be the stars. Look outside tonight at them. Focus on one. It took millions of lightyears for the light of that star to reach you. Perhaps as you look at it in your time, the star is dying in its own time. You will be long dead and this earth passed away before the light of the death of that star could ever reach you. So as you look at this star, you look through space and time.
The Heavens Declare His Glory
The ponderings of the circles of time, of the flowing of time, and of the connection between the inseperable time and space leave me in awe of God. The depth and mystery of this world and universe that He created fascinates me. The largeness and unity of time brings me closer to He who is master of the strange workings. So as I sleep tonight, the largeness of God, and smallness of me will be in my dreams.
The last sentence was followed by two paragraphs pertaining to how incompletely I had expressed my thoughts and how much I desired to have the opinion of the reciever of my thoughts, Schizatch. That part was unnecessary for my purpose. I didn't want to have to copy over worthless material.
But I found it interesting to read that. I haven't thought about time since I wrote that. Now and then it would come up, but not often and never so detailed. I am stirred to thought again. Thinking about what I think today about all of that and what I still agree with and what I may not. I guess what I consider most, is the way we harness time through the wristwatch (or wall clock or digital clock or...well I should think you get my point). I haven't much else to say on it as of yet. I will probably lie on my bedroom floor and think about it when I am done writing. When I think I usually walk, but when I don't want to, I lie on the floor. If I lie in bed, I fall asleep. If I sit in a chair, I can't think properly (unless I am writing). So I lie on the floor with my arms and legs spread out. Sometimes the floor starts to spin and that is amazing. I love when the floor seems to spin. Very conducive to my thoughts.
I am shooting off on a tangent. My eyes hurt and I have a pile of stuff on the floor next to my box that I need to put away before I go to bed. Thus I am off!