Wants02:36 Jun 10 2023
Times Read: 237
My father told us some amazing stories. Hilarious, spontaneous tales. So many times. We enjoyed them so much they basically became episodes for us. I even took one, and put it into writing for a class.
My grandmother, was also amazing at telling me stories. They were more on the cryptid side and definitely scary. But, they didn't scare me. The characters, were strange, mostly evil. And ... Astonishingly, haven't been touched on by any modern story told that I've experienced yet.
It must be genetic, because my sister have that about as well, to makes up stories on the spot.
As for me?
I enjoy writing and reading. I have quite a few ideas. I've written little snippets here and there, due to random inspiration, of a grander story that I honestly have been writing in my head... Since I realized I seriously enjoyed every aspect of every English and Writing class I ever had.
I absolutely loved learning to read and write English, because it was a hallway of doors into people's behaviors that I never knew could exist. I thought there were strict rules, per language. Rules you just could not and should not break. Then, I stumbled onto poetry; learned that some poetry became music. And that words, are quite literally our play thing.
Horrific slang and a reprehensible contemporary refusal to spell words fucking kowrecktly, if the message is understood, then it's acceptable.
All words are made up. But there is a sort of guided check marks list that needs to be met for it to work. Essentially, culturally workable, however small the niche. And it has been an especially enlightening HELL splitting the mannerisms and ways of speaking out of every interaction, from Spanish thinking, and English thinking.
I want to write so badly. It's not as easy as it used to be. The spurts of enjoyable inspiration come far too seldom and the crushing situations that diminish my self worth and want to remind the world that I exist... too frequent.
I just want to make even just one person, not feel so lonely. I want to give them an universe to just get lost in. To forget the pain of this brutal place, and know that others do feel and think like them. Even if just on the pages of a book. To connect and not just fill in characters to sell out because I had some deadline. Give them a world full of "plot holes" that drive them to want to expand my stories and want more. To understand more. To hate more. To love more. I want to leave them questioning my state of mind, and give the obvious answers to the mediocre questions. Have them care enough to ask even a single question.
I want to write so badly...
But first I have to sharpen this pencil...
Anyone who knows me, knows that's a lie.
Not only because it's more believable to say: "First I need a fresh Word Document", but because I am obsessed with mechanical pencils.
Fuck unkind people.
They are a blight.
COMMENTS
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Nekirena
23:35 Jun 11 2023
haha
I know in the Philippines Querida (or spelled keridas) is basically a married man's woman or mistress. I worked with a guy from there who would call me that (Keri/Keridas) as a joke.
But if I am not mistaken in Spanish doesn't it mean beloved or loved one?
It's been quite a while since I studied Spanish.
EstrangedOne
05:57 Jun 30 2023
But to my knowledge, at least, "Querida" does mean "dear". And please, do correct me if I'm wrong, there. Like I said, my Spanish has always been terrible. Yet half of the languages on the other side of the world, I still have a strange knack for.