Monday, May 2, 2011

Old Writing

Tall and elegant, even in fetters, a master thief stood. Her white hair hung to her waist, her dark blue skin standing out among the Metan prisoners. She wore an attitude typical of the Drow--her hands on her hips, all her weight on one leg. She took a few steps toward Octras, stopping only because she reached the length of her chain.

"Octras Jodrije, it has been a long time." She smiled falsely, revealing her sharp canines. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your new keeper?"

He pulled Naki behind him. "Watch your tongue. You're just lucky I haven't hit you yet."


I've been searching for a particular script I made about five years ago. I finally found what I was looking for today, but while I was searching I came across a lot of work that I'd completely forgotten about.

I ended up looking through a big stack of artwork and writing, and crashed into my younger self. Yes, crashed. See, I don't think about my childhood very often, and when I do, it's a brief visit. As for my teenage years, I never go there at all. There's a reason for that. Listen to my sixteenth year's voice:

"At times I feel a darkness which surrounds me.
It haunts me in every memory.
Why do I feel like this is real,
Even though I know I'm free?

The shadow creeps inside without a warning.
It feeds on happiness, leaves misery.
I am afraid. I'm lost in the rain,
Drowning in an endless sea."

I think I was always emotional, but when I got to be about fourteen, my fragile little world shattered to pieces, and I wasn't ever able to pick myself up. Regardless, I tried to deal with it alone. I didn't want to talk to other people about it, and they didn't want to hear it. When I finally opened up to someone, their response was this: "Your sadness is a choice. So choose to be happy."

Of course, this only brought more problems for me, because I didn't feel like it was a choice. But because I'd been told that, I was even more determined that I just needed some divine interference and a more positive outlook. Instead I sank deeper and deeper.

I finally went to see a doctor about the dizziness, insomnia and aching, and he gave me a miracle pill: an antidepressant. I was skeptical--a pill that can cure my feelings and make all the other problems just go away? But I took them, and I have been much better ever since.

Anyway, my reason for writing has changed over time. As a child, I wanted to explore my imagination. As a teenager, I wanted to alleviate my pain. And as I am now... I write because I love it. I write because I want to share that love. I write because I want others to know and love the characters and the places that I know and love so dearly.

And I write because I have to.


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