Monologue (ish): titled "The Last Goodbye"

It was in the silence all around me. Or maybe, the smoke curling over my head. Either way, everything I say, do, you're all around me. And when I look away, you're still there. I close my eyes, you're still there.

And in the blinding darkness I hear the waves disintegrating violently, only to wake and find myself standing there with sand under my feet, stars over my head, the somber sky bellowing an obscure murky bleakness. The sound, the crash, the rocks, everything fell out of my mind as I hit the ground.

You can't be gone. This can't be real. 

I screamed, over and over, breathlessly "Please! take it away, take it away, take it... away.." and all I heard were my own screams drowning out every thought in my head.

And now you're here, somewhere out there in the waves, and if I try, I could reach you, but it seems that I am trapped here forever, watching, waiting, dying.

As I lay back down on the sand, the light of a million stars filled my eyes, and the sound of a million cries filled my ears. The motions of your footsteps being taken, dragged away from me. When the water rushed over me to take me away too, I was already gone. And all hope was abandoned. 


I had a dream last night that I was driving down a forgotten road. Rolling fields to one side of me, the endless ocean on the other. Broken fences glaring vacantly, tattered by the violent wind. No familiarity reminding me, no leafless dead trees haunting my view. No empty eyes staring back at me, and no expressionless face looking back. The wind was cold and calculating, like numbered days. Just the water, the green grass, the swaying trees and the setting sun. All calling, all leading me home.

As the dream dissolved slowly into a haze, I looked back and saw you one last time. Goodbye. I turned around and the open road shone before me, leading me nowhere. Leading me home.

Pencil and Paper

It feels strangely odd to be writing in a journal - blogging, really. It's been years since I've written down feelings of my own that doesn't have to do with my beauty blog. I had a sudden urge to create this blog and measure my life in posts. Why not, right? It's one thing to keep it to yourself, but another to lose your memory one day and not remember a single thing.

Anyway, I created this blog to document my journeys as a writer. I'm not really a author-writer, but we're all writers in our own right - whether it's mapping out our lives in words or having ambitious goals. I've always written stories my whole life - everything from short fiction to scripts to novel sized works, but it's something I have kept personal for too long.

There is this unfinished story that I've been working on for over a year and kept it stored away simply because I got writers block and didn't know how it should end. Happy ending or sad ending or... bittersweet? Certainly the cheesy element of a happy ending didn't make me want to continue (although I am a sucker for fluffs and rom coms!), but an angsty ending is too far removed for my taste. But then I realized... I didn't have an ending for my story because I wanted to live in and enjoy my characters' journeys. I didn't want to plan the end because that would essentially be the end of the journey. I fear endings, they are sad even if they are meant to be happy. Happily ever after doesn't equate to happiness; it's a state of mind, a goal. Happily ever after is the ambiguous ending that only implies happiness, but it's essentially the end.

The fun is in the adventure, not the ending.

Anyway, I hope I don't sound bitter. If it did, it was totally unintentional. In my next post, I hope to add a little daily fiction. A vignette or two.

Goodnight.