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Poetry - 23.01.05 Writing - 10.12.05      Older  � From the Heart  � Clairvoyant Elegy  � For the Ghosts of Our Time      Newer  � The Art of Cooking With Turnips  � Radical Dreamer  � Mystery in Red  � Cerulean Dust  � Emerald     nuTang  � Lauren  � ECHO  � Kevin  � Stephanie  � Syd  � Ciara  � Quint  � Rick  � Grace  � Jamie  � Maryann  � Bianca  � Teresa  � Tiffany  � EM.com  � Newgrounds  � Get your own Banana Guard today!  � Quizilla! (Ask if you want a link to mine.)  � Virtual Turntable  � Maddox  � Kefallaville  � Mr. Quach Welcome to Not Getting Run Over By A Forklift 101. For our first lesson we'll... ack! No. NO! What a terrible way to start the class! But aren't solar-powered vampires a bit impractical? Did you know I have somewhere around one hundred forty entires? The primary function of the United States Coast Guard (besides protecting the borders and patroling national waters) is to travel back in time and battle pirates! If wishes were squids, then beggars would write. With the ink, you see. The ink of SO MANY SQUIDS. "It doesn't get any more serious than a Rhinocerus about to charge your ass." Subscribe to this to blog if you would like to be emailed whenever it is updated. | ..:Collision of Fear and Courage:.. Monday 5.24.04 04:51 pm I wasted most of my time this weekend thinking of someone. I was playing games and editing and fixing things, but it was her that dominated most of my thought. I had some really... uh... interesting (yes, that's the word!) dreams that I'm not going to discuss, also, which isn't really to odd as of late. I've been really fearful of saying certain things as a way to shelter myself from what other people might say or do if I sad them. To be blunt, I'm afraid to say anything that could have any sort of feasibly negative to someone. With all of my thinking this weekend, I ended up realizing how often fear and courage come hand in hand. If you're deathly afraid to do something and you end up doing it, isn't that courageous on your own part? Even though you aren't saving a person from a burning building or something to that effect, you're acting out of courage on a more personal level. However, when you get to me, you see that I am the best example of a chicken you will ever find. I never say or do anything until someone else suggests it, which causes me to be branded as a conformist by most people. I generally talk to the people around me about the ideas that I have and they, in turn, voice my opinions for me. Even though they get the credit if it flies, I'm content to know I helped in the planning - unless it's sheer brilliance, in which case I'd say I came up with the idea eventually. Getting back on topic, being a chicken isn't fun at all. I find myself speechless and confused around her even though I have thoughts rushing through my head. I suppose if my fear and courage were to collide, my fear would emerge the train, only to run over the sweet, innocent puppy of my courage. I think I call myself an idiot a lot because of this battle with fear that I've been fighting all these years. When I say I'm stupid, I'm not talking about grades. When I say I'm not very intelligent, I'm not talking about a lack of knowledge. I mean I'm angry that I'm too scared to do things that I want to. (Well, that's a generalization. I could mean I was really dumb for doing something, but that detracts from my point.) This has been more of a rant than I wanted it to turn out as, but I'm rather frustrated and it helped. I recently accquired a handy tidbit of advice, recently being a comment on my entry from two days ago that was left yesterday. Mon ami a lit (my friend said) something to the effect of, I shouldn't necessarily stop liking someone just because she doesn't like me, but I should remember that I always have other people to like and that I shouldn't be too hasty in turning them down, which, I must say, I have been doing for quite some time. Although I agree with this piece of advice, I don't think I'm ready to actually put it to use just yet. There is one thing I have to ask someone before I do. Later, DS
4 Comments. oops being a chicken isn't fun, eh? Those two poems,
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