2am

It’s 2am, and I’m up, why? Well, I sort of don’t have anything to hand in for that Humanities assignment. It’s not like I haven’t tried to write, I just can’t come up with any ‘good’ ideas. My last piece was too ‘cliché’ and the piece before that was so abnormally good that I’ve just got to right something that will blow everyone away. What do I write? I’ve got snip bits of pieces, but there at the most a paragraph or two. Nowhere near enough to hand in for a good grade. There’s Goodbye Me which is thoughtful, reflective, but a paragraph.

You see a person’s writing, and you believe to have seen some of their soul. It doesn’t work like that for me, for I have no soul, but rather the soul of everyone I know. I am not my own special person, but rather a mix between everyone I’ve ever met. A mutt, basically, but that’s the beauty of it. I have not one opinion but many. I have not one face but a thousand. To know one, is to know none. To accept one, is to accept only a part. Funny, how most people, only accept the parts but never the whole.

Now what else could I possibly add to that? I have not a single clue. No idea where to go from there. No idea how to keep that emotion in it. I never claimed to be a ‘great’ writer, just someone who is looking for her place in the world. It’s most certainly not here, or there, or anywhere really. Truly, I worked at expressing that in my own way. The longing desire to be that one person that I see can do no wrong, that’s an angel, a complete Queen, but it’s always a place I shall never be.

My head rests on the table, I could fall asleep right now, but I agreed to help you with the grades. I can hear you tapping on the keyboard and I wonder how you can possibly manage to survive with out being able to type. I asked you if you wanted me to do it but you said I could read off the numbers. Well, at least I can be of some help. I wonder sometimes what goes on in your head. Your eyes are misleading; trust me I’ve tried to decipher them. I can’t read your mind, much as I would love to.

I would love for just a little while to know what goes on inside your head. To know what you feel, what you think, but I suppose that would also change things. I would know more than I’m supposed to and you would know little. Regardless of the fact that you know me better than anyone else, you can’t know everything. Yet I can still wish for things that can’t come true. I can still wish to spend a single day inside your mind or even a few minutes.

Do you care? Do you hear me when I’m talking? What do you see, when you look at me? Do you really understand, or do you just pretend? I can sit here and wonder till the sky falls down, but I would never learn the answer.

How do I compete with that? How do I express that idea of wanting to have the qualities that I admire? These qualities that She possess, that I shall never have. The pure heart, the warm smile, the kind soul, the ANGEL WINGS! I can’t even think of the right word to describe her!

2:15am, and I have still accomplished absolutely nothing. Maybe I should just hand in that crappy piece about love not being enough. It’s the truth and maybe it wasn’t fantastically written but it was one-shot thing. The song was just so captivating, I mean come on; so many thoughts flood your head when you hear those words:

“…And like a fool who will never see the truth, I keep thinking something’s gonna change…And there’s a danger in loving somebody to much and its sad when you know its your heart they can’t touch there’s a reason why people don’t stay who they are Cause baby sometimes love just ain’t enough.”

I wrote a whole piece based on this song, but it just wasn’t completely emotional. I wish just once that I had my “big sister’s” talent for writing. Alyssa expresses so much in so little. I mean, “Prayer,” the poem I cried completely throughout, “Goodbye Cruel World,” which I related to so well, “Hate,” and “It’s all Pretend,” because they are the truth. So many emotions that are just tied into these poems she writes and even if she’s having an off day, they’re still amazing!

Or should I just forget poetry? I’ve written two freaking novels! True Identity, which grant it I killed a baby, but the point of the story was good! And what about Life vs. Death, my new one? I mean that was a great story, and maybe I am a little bias, but DiCosola even liked it! The story did have that underlying meaning that well, maybe only my friends would get because they know what I want more than anything, but something always happens that prevents it. So in the story the character murders her mother, hey they were reborn and they got what they wanted in the end. Or how about my work in progress, the Prophecies of a Queen or Dawnacian Prophecies, or Prophecies of Day, I have no idea what to call it! It’s really well thought out.

I don’t think anyone would appreciate me handing in a hundred-page story, so obviously those are all out of the question. There are my short stories, Lies and Scars, but that needs a major redo, and the rest of them aren’t that great.

So what I’m I going to hand in? I better figure it out soon, because now its 2:30am. What am I going to write? I could write about a girl who loses her friend like that constant replaying dream. I could write about a girl who is rescued by an angel, but I have way to many of those. I could write about a girl who finds out her mentor figure is a Guardian Angel with magic powers, and she’s a witch/Angel-in-training, but that just really isn’t smart.

Brilliant idea! I die! That would be great, totally and completely depressing but I could have a lot of fun with it. Though I really don’t want to end up in Guidance (again). Or I could hand in those Rose poems where the first commits suicide and the second wraps her car around a tree, such pleasant dreams they were, but I have feeling the whole rose thing might be cliché. Oh what do I care, life is a cliché! I don’t know why this is such a big deal. Its not like I’m ever going to be a writer. Have I thought about it as a side thing? Sure. Have I ever dreamed I would get a book published? Guilty. Have I come to the realization that I will be lucky to be a scientist? Yes. Have I figured out that this life is a worthless existence that ends in death? Yes.

It is now 3am on this rainy Tuesday morning and I have no piece to speak of. Just a bunch of thoughts thrown together in a piece that I’m sure I’ll fail. I really don’t get it; I mean writers are supposed to write the truth, is that not the true test? The truth, behind every word on this page, that really gray area, I have no idea who I am, what I want to write, I just ramble to make myself sound smart, to impress. I love writing on my terms, I love using this supposed gift to my advantage, but it’s a curse. You can write one thing that’s absolutely amazing and than have something suck, and it will just be that the tides of creativity aren’t in your favor. My life is just like the tides, sometimes its up, sometimes its down, its always flowing, always with a current, and always simply changing. Celine Dion has a new song, on her “One Heart” album, last track actually, the album’s been playing through out this time, totally fits my mood. The songs, are so me. Je t’aime encore has just a special connection to me, its like she’s talking about me and my life and the dreams I want to come true. So at 3am I guess I’ve accomplished something.

Je t'aime encore

Written by Jean-Jacques Goldman, and Sung by Celine Dion

Here the autumn ends bringing back the rain
The old Chevy's dead they tried to fix it in vain
Elisa's got her first teeth, little Jimmy is getting strong
I'm learning guitar I almost know a song
I've found some chanterelle at the market this morning
I'd like to live in Rome, oh it would be such a good thing
Try to grow some flowers, the same I tried before
That's all for now
Oh yes je t'aime encore
But where are you
So far with no address
How's life for you
My hope is my only caress
Finally cut my hair, I hear you say at last
It's been kind of strange but you see I survived
When I'm asked I go out, I dance all night and more
But when I dance
Je t'aime encore
But where are you
So far with no address
How's life for you
Time is my only caress
Je t'aime encore just like in an old fashioned song
And it burns in my soul, anything else seems too long
Oh more and more, it's strong as I can be
Oui je t'aime encore
But you, you cannot hear me.