#creative journals

Some pages I’ve made in my first wreck this journal

My Writing Journey – The Key Words Will Unlock the Door to Your Audience (9/8/2016)

What are you looking for?  You need to know the answer to this better than your audience, because this is exactly what your audience is looking for.

Think about it.  When you want to find something important, you get on the internet and find what you’re looking for on your desktop, laptop, or phone.

When you are searching for something, you type in those key words to find what your are looking…

The hill is alive as your toes barely touch the surface, sending sparks of life from your tough calloused feet into the dry parched ground. You skip down the rocky slope, and the hill comes alive beneath you.

The hill heaves to one side and surges to the other, but you keep your balance. It is effortless, as this time you send your foot crashing down. This is not a mere tap, this is not a soft scuttle, this is a stomp, and the ground simply roars.

It crashes upwards like a wave hitting a cliff and you let out a fierce cackle. You fly along with it as it moves along the earth, tearing apart the earth around it.

You’re moving now, and you curse every damn moment in your past when you held this back. This movement. This power. Fog sweeps along the sides of you, through your hair and and down the sides of this hill as it moans and rumbles along.

You push your feet harder into the earth and swing your hands into the sky, sending the hill rolling faster and faster north.

To your destination.

The wind whips across your face, forcing tears to your eyes and you squint hard, trying to block them all out. The tears don’t stop, and it might not be only because of the wind.

You can already hear the screams of terror that will sound as soon as the others see you. Their pointed fingers and spat curses are inevitable, so you feel the blows before they land.

They’ve never understood this power that you hold, that you keep deep inside of you, and they honestly never will.

You stretch out, with your hands towards the clouds, standing as tall as you can and the ground mimics. It climbs over itself until it forms a point with you at the very top of it.

You look out onto the horizon.

People hate what they don’t understand.

You’re not like other girls.

You’re different.

You’re special.

You don’t like girly things like makeup and doing nails and shopping and lipstickboystaylorswiftpinkbrastamponsshoes

I’m just so impressed with your ability to not fall into the exact same catagory as every single other girl on this goddamn planet.

YOU’RE NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS.

And I don’t understand why you’re getting upset that I just lumped all of your sisters, mothers, friends, all into ONE SINGLE GROUP THAT YOU YOURSELF ARE SEPARATE FROM.

So please be flattered, please be charmed, by the idea that you are separate from this toxic entity called girlhood.

Now please become a member of Misogynists Monthly (TM), and walk around with your head head high, proudly stating that you are not like other girls. Because all girls are alike. And you stand out.

Because you don’t fit the stereotype. You are not like other girls.

And if I shut my mouth for one second, and actually talked to one single fucking female,

Another overused metaphor to describe the idea that sometimes life just sucks, and sometimes it could be better, and sometimes its just fan-freaking-tastic. 

Sometimes you get a Royal Flush.

Sometimes God deals you two pair, twos and threes. 

But life isn’t always just about what’s ON the cards.

Sometimes I feel like I’m being shuffled, by a hand that’s done this many times before. I’m chaotic, in motion, and without a doubt disorientated but I know that when the wind stops, I’ll be where I need to be. I’ll deal with what I’m dealt later.

Sometimes I feel like I’m playing the game of war. Tedious, one foot in front of the other, the game goes back and forth and no real winner emerges. 

Jack beats 9.

4 loses to 7.

Queen ties with Queen. One-two-three FLIP. My 6 against your 8. I lose, but I have 3 Aces still in my deck. I’m going to be alright.

Sometimes I feel like I’m playing Solitaire. Of course I’m having fun, why are you asking? No, I don’t want in on your game of poker. I’m...content? 

Sometimes I feel like a 4-year old has gotten a hold of the deck. It’s chaotic but fun, and I’m not sure if I’ll find all of the cards later. Maybe that’s why people say I’m a few cards short of a full deck.

Sometimes I feel like a group of 8-year olds have decided to teach themselves how to throw playing cards. I’m thrown in good faith. Where I land is questionable to say the least.

Sometimes I feel like a brand new set of cards, with the wrapper still surrounding me. I’ve got potential. I just need someone to play. 

Sometimes I feel like an old set of cards, with the edges frayed and the color faded. I’m still useful. I promise. 

Life is not static. you are not a box of chocolates. You are not a hand full of cards. You are a deck of cards. You are in motion.