Thoughts of a Brain Dead Poet

My collective thoughts finally typed for the world too see. These range from my feelings, to my world views, to random thoughts that popped into my head while I was free writing.

[thoughtsofabraindeadpoet]

If you date a Writer

If you are friends with a writer, it is important to know this: We write for  one of these reason:

1) We are chasing after something to believe in. 

2) We have found what we believe in, now we’re trying to get you to believe in it too.

3) We want you to chase after something to believe in as well.

4) We can’t make sense of what’s in our head, so we have too write it down.

5) We want to show you something incredible.

[thoughtsofabraindeadpoet]

HOLY HARRY POTTER BATMAN!!!

So I just realized something. In the Fourth Book, Goblet of Fire, Harry and the gang sees Krum swimming in the lake, and comments on how it’s really cold and what is he doing? But they just assume he’s going swimming because, as Hermione states, Hogwarts is warmer than Durmstrang so of course he’s going swimming. It’s not that cold to him. And every reader just brushed it off as “Alright, Hermione says it’s nothing, she’s smart, it’s nothing.”

But it wasn’t! Krum figured out the egg. He knew that he’d have to swim in the freezing lake to rescue whatever was taken from him. So he was testing the waters, getting himself used too it. FIGURING OUT HOW HE WAS GOING TO BREATHE. That was his way of dealing with the egg. We saw Krum preparing for the Tournament.

[thoughtsofabraindeadpoet]

Not Thought Worthy

Guess who got a raise of ten cents! This author here! Sometimes, I love my job. Other times, I really love my job.

[thoughtsofabraindeadpoet]

Thoughts of a Reading Poet

I don't read books. I devour literature, I take a novel and I refuse to put it down, especially if it's good. There are three different types of books, the kind you can't put down, the kind you have to put down, and the kind you don't even want to pick up. The first kind are my favorite, the ones that grip you so tightly on their adventure that you find yourself doing everything with that book firmly attached to your hand. The books that are inches away from your nose and impeccably written so that you are completely immersed in the characters and their drama. Then their are the second type of books, which are by no means less than the first. These books are the ones so well written, that at times you just have to set it aside and breath awhile because it was too intense. The pieces of literature that leave you thinking, and at the same time, itching to read more to keep on thinking. They are equally delicious in their plot, but make you think almost too much. The last type of books are the ones that instantly make you regret reading them. The book that has a horrid plot, horrid characters, no drama, and bad grammar. The kind of book that makes you step back and think "Dear God why?" or, if you are a writer, makes you think "I could do better than this."

I prefer to read the first type of book. They claim my soul and mind in a wild adventure that leaves me breathless more. They take me away from the world and plop me in a world I have only dreamed of. These books leave a mark on my soul. It says something about the brilliance of authors, that a book can be read in mere hours, rather than days. A good author is able to develop these characters so deep and perfectly imperfect that loving them is not only natural, but like a gift. These authors have loved and nourished their characters, and it reflects so splendidly in the way the characters tell their story. These books aren't just the books normal people read that get put out into the mainstream, these are  the books that define a generation.

But that doesn't mean that I do not love and appreciate a good thinking book. Those are the books that make me proud to be a writer, that someone was able to not only write well-rounded characters, but was able to make me think about my own self. The books that make me have to set it down and go "Huh" are the books I live for. They are what I strive for. It may take weeks to finish one of these books, because you are slowly tasting everything that book has to offer. Clive Barker is incredible at writing books like this, where it not only improves your vocabulary, but makes you think.

And while yes, there are three types of books, each book is beautiful. Because books don't judge, they don't make the reader feel unimportant. Even the crappy books can make one person feel better about themselves. And the truly beautiful things about books, is that each book can be in all three categories at once. I find the Harry Potter Series to be in the first category, but my younger sister places it in the third category, and my friend puts it in the second. I place Twilight in the third category, while two of my friends absolutely love it.

Books connect people in a way nothing else does. They are just stories, passed down from generation to generation, turned into movies or scorned at in critiques, but they still exist. They flourish in talks and debates. They bring like minded people together. They are beautiful.

[thoughtsofabraindeadpoet]

Thoughts of an Inspiration-less Poet

Where is my inspiration? How can I think of no ideas? Why am I so blocked? And how do I fix it? How do I get back into my writing groove? Is there something missing? Am I not trying hard enough? Am I not dedicated enough to my cause?

So, I've had a bit of a view change. Despite the cynical shell I've always been a bit of a hopeless romantic. The soul mate idea was so appealing, the idea that someone, somewhere is destined to be with you. That if you don't look for it, somewhen, the two of you will meet and it'll just click. Like you see in the movies. And sure there will be obstacles, but they won't matter, because you have that person who was always meant to be your partner. I've wanted the click for so long, it's like my heart was singing a song of desperation and I was praying he would hear it and call back. That he would hear it, and realize that I wasn't happy alone and come fix it. Save me from the silence and loneliness of my heart. My happy ending.

Perhaps that's what society has done to people. We are taught by movies, folk-tales, books, and even songs that to have a happily ever after, we have to have someone. Our society is designed for couples to flourish and for single people to feel like we are useless without another person. When you're single, you are the third wheel, and no amount of "No you aren't" is ever going to change that. We are the odd ones out. I'm not saying that somewhere down the line I won't find my Special Someone. I am saying that until I do I shouldn't be pressured to find him.

Maybe if there wasn't this growing need for a significant other, I'd still feel this yearning. After all, I used to want it, but now I don't see the point. And maybe it's not just that society is geared towards couples. It's probably other things too. An accumulation of faults within our world.

Like how we don't seem to mate for life anymore. Isn't it sort of pathetic that aquatic mammals are better than we are? Otters mate for life. They swim holding hands when sleeping so they don't float away from each other. Are we not greater than otters? Does it not say something about our world that we see otters mating for life as cute, and not something we ourselves should strive for? Why are we not holding on to the idea of one person, one, for the rest of our lives? When did it become acceptable to lose one's virginity to some stranger? To someone you barely knew or to someone you met in high school and "Fell in love with" despite only being sixteen and not really knowing what love is? Why do we insist that it's OK to the point of finding those who are waiting for the right person to come along odd? Like they are the ones who need to change. As if losing one's virginity isn't a huge ordeal.

I don't know.

I guess to me giving so completely to oneself should be something sacred. Maybe it's my lose Catholic upbringing, or some wordly enlightment found in novels, or perhaps my own naivety, but my body is too precious to me, someone who's own self-loathing borderlines ridiculousness, too just hand over the keys for a few  moments of bliss. Are those moments really worth it? When one craves affection the way I do? I mean, I have heard story upon story upon story about how people wished they had waited. They had given themselves up to that high school sweetheart at sixteen, that hot guy they met at college, whatever, and then met the person they really loved and wished they had lost it to them. But we keep making the same mistakes. Why?

I offer the reason. We are so hooked on instant gratification, we crave the good now and we don't look at the future. I don't want that kind of self-centered relationship where we both only think of ourselves. I want future, better yet I want someone who also wants the future. I want my "The End" moment to actually be a beginning. The greatest beginning I will ever begin. Because that's what it is.

Don't get me wrong, being single is fan-freaking-tastic. I love being alone and not having to worry about anyone else. I love the way I can do things couple people can't (Free pie Wednesday and no guilty feelings about going on my lonesome.) I love going out clubbing and flirting with strangers, or I would if I could ever find the desire to leave my house.

But I look at the divorce rate. And of high schoolers claiming love to one person and than another a week later, and I realize that love as an art form has died.

And that saddens me.

[thoughtsofabraindeadpoet]

Thoughts of a Brain Dead Poet

Like any old soul who sees the world in color rather than the black and white of those normal will tell you, it is best to share your thoughts before you go crazy. While that has already happened, I still feel like I have more pent up words that require release. So here goes nothing.