I should be a romance novelist. Not one of those cheesy, sappy, crude ones with the long haired, macho men and a woman's bosoms on the cover; the ones that everyone are ashamed to admit they like. I should write a romance novel like Twilight. I just thought you should know. I just need a really good story.
Example. Here is an excerpt from my diary. Yes, my actual, real diary. Shh, don't tell anyone. And keep it all a secret. Promise?
"As my eyes scanned the page I eagerly drank in his enduring words. They seeped through me, giving my mind a temporary, comforting warmth. I didn’t want it to end because I knew that my mind would return to being blank and black the second they wore off. But even though I knew this, for once, I didn't care. I recalled the once familiar joy and bliss that warmed my mind and soul, reminding me of the times we were together. The memories that I had locked away in order to more easily spare the pain evaded their chains and flooded back to me. I could feel my smile, now stiff from disuse, warm across my face. I closed my eyes to get a better effect from the images, almost picturing them behind my lids like a movie playing on a reel. And though I knew this could only take seconds, time lost its meaning as my imagination excitedly drifted off like it hadn't done in ages. I could feel my heart start to pound faster in anticipation of my daydreams. And even though one tiny voice of reason, my main enemy, reminded me that I would regret doing this to myself, I ignored it and continued to let my mind slip away.
"It could have been seconds or minutes as I expectantly came back to the ground when his words started to lose their effect. The warmth gently wore off and my limbs regained their numbness. My heart slowed, and the rushing sound in my ears died down as I started to regain consciousness of my surroundings. The ticking of the clock started again, almost louder than before. I suddenly snapped back to reality as the rhythmic noise reminded me physically and mentally where I was. The blank emptiness once again took its place in my chest, and I knew it would be some time before I could start ignoring it again. The smile I had felt faded to memory as I realized it had left along with the other joyous feelings. In their place, the darkness took over, feeling more malicious than before. Just as I had expected. My eyes fluttered open as my mind again whispered, I told you so. As I sat there, evaluating what had just taken place, my heart countered, No. Every second I will endure was worth it."
It's true, I do like flourishing the truth a bit. But it makes my life seem more dramatic and important. And more fun to go back and read later on.
1 comment:
Wow. You are a dramatic writer. Glad you had fun at football, though! Mom
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