Defining Irony

&;______somewhere in between AWAKE&dreaming…;

I am continually saying to myself how ironic my life is, and right now? I just wish it would stop. I wish things didn’t always have to hit me all at once and entirely overwhelm me. I wish that I didn’t see meaning and signs in everything, and I wish I could just, sleep right now. Sleep, but not dream. Collapse in my head, my comforter… stop thinking, stop feeling, or at least feel a little bit less.

What the hell am I supposed to do right now? My research paper of three months is done… I sent a letter, and I got my answer. So it’s done. It’s over. That’s it. And I’ll be honest, it feels rather … good. I want to erase it all, somehow. I wasted three years of my life thinking of nothing else, letting him entirely rule my existence. It was so wrong, but it felt so right–and now I’m on the in-between. I’m on the upswing, or at least, I should be.

And yet I still notice the little things. My keyboard is messed up, but that doesn’t just happen without a reason, right? What I mean by this is my keys are being oversensitive–I don’t have to actually press the key for it to ink the letter. Or, one key is. And ohoh- guess what letter? It’s ‘D’ of course. I lay my hand on the keys, and immediately, four ‘D’s’ are written, before I’ve actually hit anything. How annoying. How aggravating. How…telling.

Keys become oversensitive like that on this ridiculous iBook G4 when you press it too often.

It’s ridiculous.

&//where should i start? (disjointed heart) i’ve got no commitment to my own flesh&blood.
left it all alone, far away from my {true} home..{cannot express} to the point i’ve regressed,
breaking a part of my heart to find release & taking you out of my blood to bring peace. //&LP

A…have you found the Tripisn yet?
–Mickey&others.

P.S. You should know, that originally read: A…have you foundd the Tripisnd yet?
…>.<

Quotes.

Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion’s starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don’t see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it’s not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it’s always there – fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge – they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaking suspision love actually is all around.

LoveActually ^

Well, as Lynx so eloquently (in a random shakespeare way <3. ) pointed out, I never did put up my favorite quote. That’s probably because I have, say, a hundred of them. Seriously, I just, love generally all well-written quotes. In light of this, I have made a list, of all of my favorite quotes (which is currently, five pages long on my Word Document.) — and then, I am going to write out what it is I love from a certain quote, etc, over my next blog posts.

That particular quote, is one of my favorites for rather self explanatory reasons. If you look for it, love is everywhere. And without it, I believe this world would be a very dark, hopeless place in deed. In the end, for me, what matters is not who you have hated, but who you have loved.

A Note on Sanity.

A writer’s mind is like a three-ring circus. Villans parade round book circles of intellectuals wielding unconventional weapons. Heroes gallop through, chasing dragons on ice skates. Professors make crucial late-night discoveries, wizards duel to the death, chilors sing. Birds take wing as young couples kiss for the first time under a brilliantly unreal sunset.

All of this happens in about three seconds.

When writing, these characters come to life, personified as letters on the loose leaf page. From the imagination, they swing free to tell their stories to others. It’s the writer’s job to communicate for them, and therefore with them. A bond of sorts is created, between writer and character, and it must be mutual. Only the original creator can known truly what their character thinks and how they would react to something. If the creator is cut off from creation, there is a void remaining.

What does this mean? To the understanding, avid enthusiast- the writer will begin to feel far more insane if their characters cannot talk to them. To the untrained eye, it will appear that this means the writer is no longer “hearing things”. They no longer can blur the line between fantasy and reality. Grounded, surely they will finall by “sane”. They will no longer run off topic as they spot a bird or giggle as they think of something, though the room remained silent. The writer that ignores characters is a “real person.”

Bull.

To the writer themselves, the silenced characters have left them hollow. Their stories will fail without communication, for if you fail to listen to your characters interpretation, you fail to tell the story properly, and you lose the writers soul. Is it therefore a great irony that in discussin the so-called sanity of a person that talks to different creations of theirs in their head, if you were to deprive them of their characters- that is when the writer truly goes insane.

Procrastination.

That is one word that certainly describes me. I’ve been sitting on the floor my bedroom for about three hours now, supposedly packing and cleaning.

Yeah, it’s two-thirty-five am, I’m leaving at seven- and I haven’t packed a thing. If that’s not the definition of procrastination, I suppose I don’t know what is. Two graphics,  checking my email obsessively, a post, a video, and more lyrics read than I can count pretty much do it too.

But there’s more to it than that I suppose. This is due to the fact that it’s been about two months or so since I’ve updated [I've been SO busy- college tours...], but true to my word, I have returned. Even if just for a few minutes. I am off to New York in like, four hours…and I can’t WAIT. It’s a little scary, considering I’m driving. If it goes well, then I get to prove to my mom that- hello, yes, I do have the ability to drive, and not only that, but drive well, so- you can let me go to the Streetlight concert in October now. If it doesn’t go well, I’m basically screwed as far as driving-to-NY goes. So it’s nerve wracking, not to mention all the insane hysterics of excitement.

There’s a little bit of sadness/anxiety mixed into this…mix. [wow. you can totally tell i'm tired.] One of my best friends was supposed to go too, and now…it doesn’t like she will. *hugs* She will be missed, lotsandlots, and I haven’t given up hope yet.

The anxiety comes in the form of knowing who I most want to see, and wondering [quite painfully] how far it goes- and why it’s so poignant now, when two weeks ago I was so ready to never talk to them again. Bizarre, isn’t it? Now that I might see them, I’m overwhelmed with…wanting to? Not in an unhappy way, no, definitely. Just, anxious. Anxious excited, anxious nervous [ha. those words mean the same thing. but not really, just ask Lemony Snicket.]

*sigh* Procrastinating over.

Here’s the graphic. ^_^

Unbreakable.

Ok, so, I can hear the birds singing. That totally means I stayed up way too late. Early. Whatever. Strangely enough, I’m not tired. That’s because I’m on this MEGA high…as in, I FINISHED MY FIRST PHOENIX PENNA VIDEO. It only took like, three months.

Abi/Tris/Blu based, it’s the basic story of the cheating fiasco last april, minus one crucial part; Reyen. This is because I couldn’t find the right sort of clips, was tired..etc. But the rest is the same; and I’m really happy with how it turned out. My personal favorite moments are Tristan…with his hands up [oops! caught red handed.. <3], Blu- touching her lip, I was ECSTATIC to find that clip…and the montage.

The song is “Low”, Kelly Clarkson; and only some of the song fits really well, but it ..does. After all, Blu was her friend/is her friend [oh, and half sister, not that they knew that], and she was sleeping with her husband.

Have you ever been low
Have you ever had a friend that let you down so
When the truth came out
Were you the last to know
Were you left out in the cold
‘Cause what you did was low

I walk out of this darkness
With no sense of regret
And I go without precautions
We both know that you can’t say that
Just to show
For all the time I loved you so
So

Have you ever been low
Have you ever had a friend that let you down so
When the truth came out
Were you the last to know
Were you left out in the cold
‘Cause what you did was low

Etc. What’s really funny, I think is the line about ‘going now without precautions’, because that’s exactly what happens wiht Abi and Reyen.

Comments on here, or on YouTube, or really anywhere would be incredibly appreciated.

http://www.youtube.com/AbiNoelCarter

-Abi

AOL Radio Stalks Me.

I know you think I’m crazy, but it’s true! Twice now it’s started playing this song about a heart being damaged, and right over Jana talking to Julie?!

This is the second day in the row that I’ve stayed up, {first night because of coffee and amazing cousins, the second night because of a collaborative effort of coffee/heroes/battles for away messages/and my favorite PP character stealing my AIM..} — and I’m like, completely dead meat tomorrow. Yesterday it was this very large cup of coffee that kept me awake, that I sipped at scalding hot temperatures, burned my tongue, and caused tears to spring to my eyes. [Not eyes to spring to my tears.]

And now, I’m doing it again. This is the proof of insomnia, it really, really, is. Insomnia, though, is kind of an interesting topic to explore. The only cure to writers block is insomnia. I don’t remember who it was that said that, but it’s a good point. After all, just today, I dozed through the day with pizza, and about sixty ounces of coffee…and then at 10:30 pm, I woke back up. Just…perked up. Whether it was a certain conversation, or what..I don’t know. But I was awake. And it’s two:eighteen, and I really should sleep.

As Calvin and Hobbes said, my internal clock is set to Tokyo Time. It’s not even a bad thing, either. I do my best writing at night. I’m never bothered. I can play music [even if it's stalking me], and I can talk to my favorite people in the world without other interruptions. No laundry buzzing…no chores to be yelled at, and all homework is usually done by this time. Insomnia can give you a space to yourself; a space to be you.

It can, however, also cause you to burn your taste buds off on coffee…

Favorites.

Today, we were asked to say one bizarre ‘favorite’ that you have. A lot of people did the generic, of course, color/flower, etc…but some were really cool. My favorite was the person who stood up and said; My Favorite Communist is Trotsky.

Well, sorry, I don’t have a favorite communist, but I do have a ton of other favorites. SO.

Color: Red. It used to be aqua though, and I also love really light shades of purple.

Movie: Ah; I really think this one might be a tie. Love Actually, and Shakespeare in Love are my all time favorites.

Book: The Phantom Tollbooth. Now, I read, a lot. All the time really. And this book has never grown old. It never get’s tiresome. Everytime I read it, there’s more to be found.

Musical: Phantom of the Opera in terms of plot and being generally amazing in everything. Rent is pretty high up there.

Music Genre: Ska/Rock/Classical {i’m weird, deal with it..}

Author: Gah, this so depends on my mood. I’m going to say Jennifer Donnelly for now, and urge you to check out her book ‘The Winter Rose’ and ‘A Northern Light’. They are amazing.

Poet: Emily Dickenson, or Robert Frost, depending…

Playwright:Shakespeare. Is there one better?

Poem:Hope. {Dickenson}

Movie Soundtrack: Anything by John Wiliams is generally amazing. Also awesome? Juno.

Flower: Iris, or a Lily.

Dessert: ICE CREAM. MCCIC, or Black Rasberry, or Cookie Dough, or just vanilla…yum..

Holiday: It’s beginning to feel a lot, like, Christmas…

Vacation: The British Virgin Islands are amazing, but they didn’t beat Christmas Vacation And The Revel to end all Revels for me…

Gemstone: Amythest.

Era: The Salem Witch Trials. I’m related to Mary Bradbury, who just happened to survive. How amazingly cool is that? Google it, I dare ya.

Food: Pizza. I could live on it.

Drink: Coffee. I couldn’t live without it, it like, saves my butt all the time.

Hobby: Writing. Which includes Roleplaying.

Place: Erm. A certain porch…with a certain yellow dress.

Play: Midsummer Nights Dream, currently…

TV Show [currently on]: Either Heroes, Grey’s Anatomy, Life, or Psych.

TV Show [off air]: Friends, or Charmed…[but probably Friends]

Book Character: Gah, how to even begin to choose? Ok, either Snape for being generally amazingly written…or Edward because who can NOT love Edward? Then again..*continues to ramble*

Card Game: Gin Rummy, but what is Christmas without Poker?

Never-Seen-Without: A computer, a notebook/pen, and a pack of cards…

Accessory: A SANTA HAT!

Tradition: I have two that melt right in hand with each other. The first, is my dad’s determination with reading The Polar Express the night before Christmas, where we ring the bell and all can hear it…and then the best Christmas Tradition I think we have, which is the christmas tree hunting licenses. See, according to my dad, Christmas Tree’s are alive and magical, and you have to guard them, pray for them, and hunt them. Then came the Christmas where he’d printed out licenses and somehow gotten them laminated and mailed to us…

Early Morning Rambling.

When it gets to the wee hours of the night, as in, three thirty am, I begin to feel either unbelievably inspired, or dead to the world.

On this occassion, I’ve had a lot of coffee.

I probably should have had it, but I have. I was up late arguing politics, first, and watching Star Wars. Talking about Harry Potter, and acting out plays. And then I got a Coke, opened this screen and have added at least three or four posts. I don’t know anymore. But I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about how to deal with emotions. It’s a curious topic that I first approached with a neglected-turned-serial-killer teenager character, and recently found myself repeating in real life as well.

If I’ve learned anything, it’s that life isn’t perfect for anyone. And dealing with emotions can be quite stressful. Dealing with anger caused me once to break a fridge. Happiness, on the other hand, can be approached with ice cream and bubbles. The same ice cream is applicable for depression, for sadness. Why that is..I am not sure. Ice cream is a staple for me; and it’s as useful when I’m hyper, need to become hyper, or depressed. If I’m upset, I’ll accompany it with a movie of Love Actually and the old teddy bear my Aunt gave me, so long as I can dig it out of the closet. Dealing with raw hatred causes both terror and anger in return, and an intense vulnerability. When green-eyed jealousy is involved, both sadness and a bitter edge create tension that frizzles the air. And when the yellow cowardice approaches, it is most likely in friends that you look for strength and help.

In my very limited experience, I’d never have broken a fridge, or stored up long forgotten affection if I’d allowed myself to think and feel what the emotion is I’m experiencing. It’s never easy, even if you’re emotion is happiness. Emotions seem to travel in packs, never the same exact thing for everything. The point of view can change, and the perspective alters the story. And as I ramble, I remember slowly how mad I was when I hit that fridge and knocked off the shelves inside it.

That terrified me.

It’s a common phrase enough, “strength you didn’t know you had”, but it’s hit home with me, in several different ways. If I had allowed myself to feel these emotions, then I wouldn’t have been so unbelievably badly off all the time, right? I was always sad over my heartbreak, and simultaneously mad at myself for doing so; seeing as how I was the one that had ended the relationship. And I couldn’t have done anything about the move. That was out of my control completely, but that move ripped my life apart.

It changed who I am as a person. That nasty distance stole people that I loved, and left me with very polite girls, none of whom ever ran around a yard with me. Not one of them had gotten stuck in a baby swing. They had interesting facts like “I live on ‘Shakespeare Street’.” Though I learned more about them slowly and concluded that it was unfair, it was my immediate impression. I was pissed off about it. I needed, and wanted, my friends. I wanted my family. I wanted so much, but seeing as how neither was a successful task, I slowly grew addicted to writing and the internet. While I don’t find anything bad about it persay, it is a drastic change in my life. I’m not that sure where any of this fits in, particularly as my eyes are finally drooping [coffee had to run out sooner or later..]…but I know, at least now, that burying or resisting emotions is never the way to go. Let yourself feel.

Because only if we experience the lows, can we experience the highs.

theLINKAGE.

Besides the best forums in the world [Phoenix Penna, and other assorted], I recently updated my blog’s linkage to include links to;

One Hundred Cranes: A blog of an aspiring writer, budding artist, and amazingly cool chica; Meredith. Packed with things to read, I highly recommend it!

Kristi’s Boudoir: The newly formed blog of one of the coolest people in the history of ever. She sings, she writes, she acts…anything she can’t do? Well, she can blog, that’s for sure.

Wishing. Blog of Geej, or Kal, whichever really…my cousin, my soul-sister, whatever you want to call her. She’s amazing, and the blog is the same!

That’s all of the links added for now. [Tribute] has also been updated!

Comments are always appreciated everywhere btw ^_^

Who Am I?

Oh. Hold on. That question? Yeah, I probably can’t answer that question. Then again, who can? Does anyone really know who they are? I’m going to assume the answer is ‘No’…or maybe perhaps, Ghandi does..yeah. Anyways, even if I can’t *really* answer the question, I can tell you a little bit about myself. [And hopefully, one day, I will be able to answer that question. ]

I have several, several names. I go by…Abi, New York, Mickey, Spot, Balance…and like, a hundred million more. [maybe not *quite* that much...] Here, just, call me Abi. It’s easiest, but there is a good chance that you could go call me lots of different things and I’d answer to them. Like, once? I answered to ‘Tyler’. If you’re on PP with me, you’d get it…those who stared at me oddly on the bus, did not.

Strangely enough, I fit an archeatype pretty well. I’m the girl you see in the corner of the nearest cafe, with an earbud trailing from one ear, a laptop open to six different websites, and a notebook with a good ballpoint pen out. I’m turning seventeen shortly, i have a car [oh yay!], and my favorite things include; reading, writing, daydreaming, writing more, coffee, peppermints, ice cream [MCCIC, of course], skittles[but not as much as a certain someone], holidays [mostly christmas], gigantic family parties, the song ‘piano man’ [& 'sk8r boi', but for different reasons], nostalgia, snow, new characters, graphics, song lyrics, spending hours in bookstores, summer vacation, nyc…[the list goes on].

If you have questions, you may feel free to go ahead and email me. I’ll do my best to answer them fully.