10-03-05

Passion

I'm so damn The current mood of augustdreams at www.imood.com

The fuzzy survivors of Hurricane Katrina need our help. Please go here to find ways you can help: Pet Finder - Disaster

I've also updated my Adopt a Pet page so please check it out.

I got a lot done on my book tonight. There's nothing like writing. I need it. It's my passion, my high, my salvation. It's so much a part of me that it's difficult to describe. I wrote my first story when I was five years old. There's just something about words. It's funny, I write so much, so often. I've even been paid for my words a time or two. Yet when I try to describe what it means to me, I'm suddenly at a loss. Writing is cool water when I'm burning. It's safety when I'm frightened. It's my scream when I can't be heard and my whisper when I must confide. It keeps me going when nothing else in the world can make me carry on. Writing has inspired me, given me joy, given me a voice. More than once the act of building worlds with words has saved my life. Being a writer isn't something do, it's what I am. It's woven into the fabric of my soul. Whatever else I do with my life, I am a writer first and foremost.

Here's a little something I borrowed from Radiogurl:

I am not... willing to compromise who I am for the sake of conformity.

I hurt ... in places the healing can't seem to reach.

I love... unconditionally.

I hate ... cruelty.

I fear... losing the people I love.

I hope... that I can get to where I want to be.

I hear... my dog giving a content, nasal sigh. One of my favorite sounds.

I crave... touch.

I regret... losing touch with people I still love so much.

I cry... for the people and animals out there who are hurting.

I care... too much and too deeply to not try and change things.

I always... laugh. Every day.

I long to... be back in Marc's arms. So much that it's almost a physical pain.

I feel alone... when I've spent too long away from my fuzzy ones.

I listen... to Rob Zombie music all the time.

I hide... my worst fears.

I drive... very rarely.

I sing... horribly and off-key.

I dance... only when nobody's watching.

I write... because I need it like oxygen.

I breathe... easily. It's been two years since the last time I was in anaphylactic shock from an allergy and I still don't take breathing easily for granted.

I play... pretend constantly. Shhh. Don't tell anyone. They'll take away my official status as an adult.

I miss... the people I've lost.

I feel... uhh huh-huh. Myself. (Sorry - couldn't resist!)

I know... how it feels to be the kid who is always picked last in gym class.

I say... how I feel - because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.

I search... for the missing socks and silverware. Are dryers and dish washers carnivorous?

I learn... constantly. I love learning.

I succeed... as a mama to my fuzzy ones, I hope.

I fail... to understand why there are thousands of luxury hotels in this country and disaster victims were separated from their families and children and crowded into shelters.

I dream... lucidly, most of the time.

I sleep... with a plush Cthulhu.

I wonder... what Dragonfly poop looks like.

I want... to scream, I want to shout, want to have faith and never doubt. I want to feel, I want to touch. Want to stop wanting it so much.

I worry... about people who surf the net looking for Simpsons porn.

I have... the world's coolest dog.

I give... a damn.

I fight... fiercely for anyone I love.

I wait... impatiently.

I need... a lot space and time to myself or I get very stressed out and cranky.

I am... tired.

I think... laughter is necessary for survival.

I canít help the fact that... I'm still in love with someone who doesn't love me back the same way.

I stay... true to who I am no matter what the cost.

Have a good night and thanks for reading.

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