Long Time No...Write?

So life is (generally) Good. I've been working on grades, and those are looking up, which is generally a plus. I felt like I needed to write again though, even if no one's listening. DECA competition tomorrow. Yikes. I'm not the least bit prepared. No one can even give me a straight answer on what exactly will happen. Oh well, I've been needing an adventure.

Time and Time Again

I'm stuck as usual... Brain running at 100 mph. I want to try being someone different, but I don't know who to be. I'd like to class it up a bit because this hippy look just doesn't work for me anymore. I'm someone else now. There's too much to do, and too little time to do it in. At one time, I'd hoped to write every day. Perhaps that's what I'll do. This is too short for my thoughts, but then again, so is the night.

*Robin*

Happy Birthday Nikola Tesla

You may or may not (more likely) know this, but today is Nikola Tesla's birthday. You probably don't even know who Nikola Tesla is, do you? Well, I'll fill you in:

Nikola Tesla was an inventor. He worked in electricity at the same time as Edison, which is why you've probably never heard of him. Edison ran a series of campaigns to prove that Tesla's inventions were dangerous. Due to these demonstrations Tesla died a failure, secluded in a private hotel room, alone except for his beloved pigeons.

Perhaps you recognize the name but can't seem to figure out why? Tesla appears as a character in many science fiction and fantasy stories as a madman or magician. Like in The Prestige, where (played by David Bowie) he builds a duplication machine for the use of Hugh Jackman's character. In fiction he remains a symbol of the dark side of science, of things we can't understand.

So as a celebration of a brilliant man lost to the pages of time, take a moment to do something crazy. Reach out to someone who seems like a recluse. Seize the day, and enjoy it.

love always,
*Robin*

New Space to Think

So here is my new space, a bright open cyber-notebook of blank code, waiting to be filled. I want to write like so many that use these places to let themselves free of the binds that the social world places upon them. Once upon a time, people told me I had a gift. Now those people are either dead or just don't think I'm worth it anymore. I want to write like I used to, or at least how I used to think. If someone reads this (and I hope someday they do), they should feel free to comment, positive, negative or otherwise. Any thoughts are welcome.

But where was I? Somewhere among the stars I hope. Only my thoughts can try to go that high. The full moon last night was beautiful. I remember when the little tough girl I once was used to look up at that glowing moon and wish that somewhere out there, a someone was looking up there too. He would be a dreamer too. I wished upon that moon with all my might, that he could find me, or hear me. That somehow I could bounce all my hopes off that great disc and reflect them towards wherever he was. Clearly I was a hopeless romantic, even as a tomboyish girl that would deny the color pink existence in her wardrobe. I still am, but with the great disappointment of loves that will never be. Still the little girl that pretended no one could ever hurt her, but now with the knowledge that they can, and will.

I feel like I don't have any friends anymore. I know I do, but the girls seem fake or too preoccupied by their own troubles and lives. The boys are worse though. I've always identified better with the boys, but now we've fallen into the trap of growing up: either they fall hopelessly in love with me, or I fall hopelessly in love with them. It's all very Jane Austen and I despise it. That or I find the same problem I do with the girls, and we all end up having very little reason to have anything to do with each other in the first place.

I keep telling myself to stop being so negative. You can see how well this is working out for me, but that's not really important. I want to be someone. It seems like the various facets of my personality are mostly reflections of people I once spent time around. There are a few quirks that have developed of their own accord, and I hold onto them with every fiber of my soul.

For a first post, this seems like more of a rant than a creative endeavor. We will see what becomes of this all, but this is sufficient for now.

love always,
*Robin*