Vertigo

It starts with a rumble, in some places a loud boom.  Before you know it, everything around you is violently shaking.

It seems to last for hours, but really it’s only 30-40 seconds.  Dozens of aftershocks follow, strong, but not as big as the first one.

It’s the middle of the night, sleep wants to claim you but the fear keeps you awake.  Socks still settle against the soles of your feet, waiting in case of a midnight dash.

And it happens.

You sit up, phone clutched in your hand as your world begins to tilt.  How strong is it going to be?  Bigger than the one yesterday?

You get to your feet and bam, the whole apartment starts to sway.  Everything is a jumbled mess.  Things you had picked up from the first earthquake are back on the floor, strewn about in a wild mess.

Your head finds the edge of the table, knocking you senseless but not  unconscious.  You can hear everyone’s voices in your head: Get to the table, Get to the door.

Where do you go?  Everything is fuzzy now, all you know is that you need to get out of there.  You make your move to the door, forgetting the bag you packed only an hour before.  Thankfully, the lights are still on.

Everything around you is vibrating, you can’t stay on your feet… Your head hurts so bad you’re sure that it’s bleeding… now you’re just waiting for the blood to drip into your vision.

Somehow, you reach the doorway, but not unscathed.  Days later, you won’t remember the details, everything has a dark haze around it.  You think the bathroom door handle gave you the wicked bruise on your hip.  Maybe it was the box by the doorway that got your foot.  But your arm, with the giant bruise and shredded muscles, that you have absolutely no recollection of.

In the doorway, you dare a glance back into your home.  Everything is moving, you can see the doorway twisting and turning.  Everything is flying around like some sort of Tasmanian devil has entered your apartment.

The lights go out, and you know, more than anything, that darkness terrifies you.  Somehow you manage to grab your shoes, so many people have told you over the last day to get closed toe shoes and to be careful of glass, and race out the door.  The initial quake has stopped, but the ground is already gearing up for a nasty aftershock.  With speed you didn’t know you had, you race to your co-workers door.  You’re screaming and crying, worried about their safety and afraid for your own life.

After what feels like an agonizing wait, he wrenches the door open and throws you under the table.  For the first time since it happened, you feel safe.  But then the reality of the situation hits you.  Everything hurts, the world won’t stop shaking and before it happened, this uncontrollable fear gripped your heart.  If you had listened to it, had gone and stayed with someone else, you wouldn’t have been alone and you probably wouldn’t have gotten injured.  Looking back in hindsight, you’re terrified and angry at yourself for being so vulnerable and unprepared.

Even a week later, you’re still terrified, even though you’re in another city and the aftershocks don’t always reach you here.  But when they do, that terror grips your body and brings back every memory.  You can’t be alone at night.  You have trouble even being alone during the door.  Every time you’re alone, you have to fight back the tears.  You remember the feeling, the shaking, the terror that gripped you and won’t let go, even now.  Sometimes, in the dark of the night, while he slumbers peacefully next to you, the throbbing of your own heart sends you into a fit of terror.  Every thing feels like it’s moving and you wonder if maybe one day every thing will stop, or if this is the new normal.  You’re life is now a constant vertigo.

I wasn’t going to post this here, as you know I have a creative writing blog.  But this is something really important to me.  One day, I’ll post the full story, maybe when it’s not so painful for me to remember, because even now it terrifies me. 

But I was in the Kumamoto Earthquakes 2016.  I did survive.  I was injured and have been dealing with the resulting concussion and the PTSD that it brings afterwards.  I am terrified to go back to the city I had been falling in loving with.  But I will find the courage and strength to go back

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So, what can I do as a Creative Writer?

I’ve thought about this a lot.  Can I really make a living out of this?  Would I ever be able to do what I love and support myself?  I think that’s one of the main reasons that I feel and get discouraged a lot.  I’m not doing this for the fame or the fortune (although some extra pocket cash would be nice).  I really just want to find a way to support myself and do what I love.  With tons of debt from school looming over my head, I have to have a job that covers all of the bills first and then I can turn to writing.  And then I’m always too exhausted to even lift a finger.

But if I want to reach my dreams, I have to lift those fingers even when I’m tired.  So, today marks that day that I take the first steps toward pursing my life-long dreams.

I found this great list over at WritingForward.com (A most useful website!)

20 Creative Writing Career Options

  1. Greeting Card Author
  2. Comic Book Writer
  3. Novelist
  4. Creativity Coach
  5. Writing Coach
  6. Advertising (Creative)
  7. Screenwriter
  8. Songwriter (Lyricist)
  9. Freelance Short Fiction Writer
  10. Creative Writing Instructor
  11. Legacy Writer (write people’s bios and family histories)
  12. Ghostwriter
  13. Travel Writer (if you travel)
  14. Article Writer (write, submit, repeat)
  15. Columnist
  16. Video Game Writer (includes storytelling/fiction!)
  17. Personal Poet (write personalized poems for weddings, funerals, childbirths, etc.)
  18. Playwright
  19. Blogger (don’t tell me you don’t have a blog yet!)
  20. Creative Writing Consultant

(From Writing Forward)

Of course, when I look at this list, the easiest seems like ‘blogger’ mostly because I’m already doing that.  (Sporadically, but doing it!)

And the dream job is novelist.  I’ve mentioned it before but I have about 7 different story ideas floating around in my head, all kind of mixed and jumbled together at this point.  Sometimes I get characters and plot lines crossed, but for the most part they are seven very independent ideas that I would like to pursue.  Hopefully soon.

I really think all of these sound like wonderful options and are definitely things I could get into.  Currently I’m looking into editing work, I’ve been really big into editing other people’s work recently since I can’t seem to produce my own.  I’d love to have a chance to work for Penguin books or Simon and Schuster.

While I’m searching for the next step in my life, I’m going to keep writing as much as I can.  I have a wonderful friend that is an artist who offered to help me find my voice again.  I’m going to use his artwork to find inspiration and write as much as I can, when I can.

I’m also moonlighting (cheating should I say) on my other blog with a friend over at Pen Strokes & Paw Prints.  I’m doing everything to get that creativity flowing!

So, how about you… what do you do to get your creativity flowing?  And which of the writing jobs sounds like the most fun to you?  Let me know down below!

Am I Messy? | Daily Prompt (And Other Things!)

Sweeping Motions – Daily Prompt

What’s messier right now — your bedroom or you computer’s desktop (or your favorite device’s home screen)? Tell us how and why it got to that state.

My bedroom will always be messier than my computer or my cell phone.  I’m ridiculous about everything being organized and very easy to navigate.  I get angry if there are extra files on my desktop.

For instance:

desktop

I’m definitely not taking a photo of my bedroom.  There’s leftover baking supplies on the counter, clothes on my couch, lots of dishes in the sink and papers on my desk.  It is by no means ‘messy’ but it’s worse than I keep it normally.  Some days I just don’t care though, because I’m the only one who lives here.  When I lived with roommates I was really conscious about my things and making sure I was never leaving too much lying around to not annoy them.  Too bad many of them didn’t function the same way and often left things messy.  I hated that more than anything.  Especially because I was so conscious of them, why couldn’t they at least have enough courtesy to pick up after themselves?  But, again… I live on my own, so it doesn’t matter now.  Hahaha.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/sweeping-motions/

 

Normally I do a Daily Prompt on it’s own, but I don’t feel like typing out another blog, and this way maybe some of the DP readers can check out my other blog.

For those of you who don’t know (or just haven’t looked yet), I have a creative writing blog where I try to keep all of my bits/scraps/tid-bits and just general ‘random’ writing.  It’s called Scribblin’ About Life and you can find a link in my sidebar.

Well, today, I started something new called Tune Tuesday.  The whole idea behind ‘TT’ is that I put my library on shuffle, and then using a random song (on repeat!) I sit down and write what comes out.  It’s a great way to free-write without any clear direction.  I listened to the song one time through without writing anything, and then I let myself go.

Since my big plans for this blog haven’t come to fruition yet (I’m still working on it!) I wanted to start another idea I had.  Blogging is becoming easier and a lot more fun recently, and I’m really starting to like the direction I’m heading.  Each day is one step closer to achieving my dreams!

You can check out the start of Tune Tuesday here: http://strokeofthepen.wordpress.com/2014/10/14/tune-tuesday-silvi/

Let me know what you think!

Everything I own is covered in dust

It’s 3 a.m., I should be in bed, not up writing.  I just finished my glass of milk, I feel like a child again.  I want to tuck myself in, but my mind won’t shut off.

Getting back to the roots, back to the reason I started in the first place, creative expression.  Here we go again.  Headphones on, lights off, let’s do it.

 

When I look in your direction I don’t know what to think.  In the beginning it was easy, you were just another person.  I don’t know what happened, I don’t know how it happened, and I definitely can’t explain how it happened… but it did.  And I can’t control it now and that terrifies me.  So I put up the walls, push you away as viciously as I can… a part of me doesn’t want you here… but the majority of me does.  Prove me wrong, show me that you care.  Do you care?  I wish you would give me a concrete answer.

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Inspiration comes in many different places

In Transit – Daily Prompt

Train stations, airport terminals, subway stops: soulless spaces full of distracted, stressed zombies, or magical sets for fleeting, interlocking human stories.

Well, for me, it’s a combination of both.  Huge transportation hubs are just a collection of distracted, stressed-out zombies… that are ripe for story picking.

It goes hand-in-hand with my new idea, that every one has a story tell.  This is the complete opposite, you can make a story out of anyone.  It’s one of my goals, when I get all of my ducks in a row, to pick out a random person once a week and make-up a story about them.  There are a lot of people who rely on public transportation here.  Sometimes I see people who are blissfully happy, people who are upset and then people who are drunk out of their minds.  And really, with a bit of imagination, you can take the clothes they’re wearing, the look on their face and their body language and craft your own story.

Which is fully what I intend to do.  And maybe my story will hit somewhere near to the real thing, and maybe sometimes it’ll be so far off that there’s no way it could possibly be true.  But that’s the wonderful thing about writing fiction, you can make it whatever you want.

So, I’m sorry to the random people I’m going to pick out in the future.  I’m going to write something about you, and I hope that maybe, one day, you’ll read it and realize that it’s about you.  If that does happen, make sure to let me know.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/in-transit/

Control | Daily Prompt

“I’ve been looking for you.”

I stare at the tall, blonde woman over my cup of tea.  She’s impeccably dressed; black dress, red necklace and high heels.  She pulls out the seat across from me and sits down, looking just like an old friend, though I’ve never seen her before.

“Can I help you?”  I manage to stutter out, setting my cup back into the saucer with a slight tremor.  The way she looks at me, like she knows me… really knows me, is very unnerving.  I have to clasp my hands together to keep them from shaking all over the place.

“I know this going to be very hard for you to believe,” she begins, but she’s already lost my attention.  Her words go in one of my ears and out the other, as I try to memorize every inch of her appearance.  The hairs on the back of my neck are standing straight up, I can tell something terrible is about to happen.  I keep my gaze trained on her eyes, watching the way her eyelashes flutter open and shut a few times, before they pop open wide.

“Damn!”  I hear her curse, and before I have time to register what is happening, she grabs my bag from the floor and slings it over her shoulder.  She then grabs my hand in an iron grip and pulls me out of the café, all within the span of 10 seconds.

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Fly, You Fools | Daily Prompt

“Do you want to watch the Lord of the Rings?”  He calls to me from the bedroom.  He already knows the answer, I don’t know why he bothers with such a pointless question.

“Do you even have to ask?!” I shout back as I finish towel drying my hair before pulling it up into a messy bun.  I step back into the room to find him already camped out on my bed, a bowl of popcorn and the remote, in his hand.

“Well, we haven’t got all day…” He gives me the smirk that I hate and pats the bed next to him.  I have to bite back the words that rise in my throat, keeping a muzzle on the inner-sarcastic beast that has gotten me into trouble so many times in the past.

He arches an eyebrow when I crawl into the bed beside him without a word.  When he opens his mouth to point out my silence, I shove a handful of popcorn in, keeping him quiet for the moment.

“I don’t want to fight today, I just want to enjoy your company and the movie…”  I mumble, before shoving a handful of popcorn into my own mouth, a red tint spreading across my cheeks.  I’m still not sure if I can get used to this feeling or his presence, in my life.  When he wraps his arm around me, I stiffen at the contact.  It takes a moment for my body to relax into his, still adjusting to the new found closeness.  For someone like me, who has made it a habit of keeping people at arms length, it’s taking a while to adjust to willingly having someone’s arms around me whenever they want.  He knows this, and sometimes I think he enjoys watching me get embarrassed and squirm under his touch.

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