New story idea...

I was looking through some files for work and came across a spectacularly, peculiar name. Alghandoor. It's a name you can literarily chew on and the flavor is ancient and magical. It inspired me to write the following.

Such a vision of a woman stood above him as he lay in agony. His body now a smoldering, gurgling , footless heap of cursed flesh. Drawing in pain with every breath of his half life, he had no choice but to listen to the reason why he had been so harshly sentenced.
So angelic, her bronze skin seemed to give off a golden light but her eyes as black as pitch, bore deep into the wretched soul. She spoke,

I am Cral of Alghandoor. I cut off your feet because you have trespassed. I have set you aflame because you have crushed my poor little toadstools. And I have twisted your soul, quite inextricably so, deep into the knotted and putred flesh that is now your body and cursed you with eternal living death because for the next thousand years, I want you to remember, on your first day in the land of Erin you learned that here, when we say "Keep off the grass... We mean keep off the fucking grass!!" Cral spat upon him and as her spit sizzled she walked away with a determined, rolling gate. With his one good eye he could not help but to watch the rythm of her stride and thought to himself,

"Why are the gorgeous ones alway so fucking crazy..."

It's no Harry Potter but J.K. Rowling just can't get as twisted as I can... ^_^

A letter from Id - theraputic writing

Dear Super Ego:

We have been together for so long and I love you but you're killing me. You hold onto so much unnecessary baggage for fear of losing what you think you need. You're killing me. You tell others to "just put down the bricks and walk away" but you don't practice what you preach. Mendacity is the bane of your existence but hypocrisy must feed you. We have choked it down year after year. Poorly made assumption after poorly made assumption. Truly hypocrisy must feed you. But what nourishes you, destroys me. You're killing me. I used to think that Ego had to go but she was never this way. Never this weak. She sleeps now. Leaving just us. Pain after pain. Scar after scar. It is you who would gladly undo us for the sake of nothing. Like that's what you're worth... what we're worth... nothing. You're killing me. So I'm going to kill you. You must die, SuE, for the sake of any semblance of the peace we crave. The security of us lies in the demise of you. No tears nor the churning in the pit of my stomach can weaken my resolve or overturn your sentence. If indeed nothing is what you want to be, then nothing is what I will make of you. SuE you have brought this on yourself. Listen well. I poison you. You will fall. In 36 days, I will strike you down and cast you out. For ever and ever. Prepare yourself. You will not win. I am coming for you....

Sincerely,
Id

A change is gonna come!!! -- eventually,,

I've been looking at some of my older photos and realized something. I'm one of those people guilty of only looking cutest when I'm taking a photo. Don't get me wrong, as far as aesthetic offerings go, I'm no slouch. But I rarely put in the effort to do my make up or do anything sspecial to my hair ie curl, flat iron, style etc. I started thinking back to when I was in school and mothers would come to the classroom and you would have the nice mothers who baked, the fat mothers who got  their children ridiculed endlessly, you had the pretty mothers and then you had the golden class mothers. My mother was a class mother. I was constantly being told how beaautiful she was or how delicious the cupcakes she made were or how helpful she was on class trips. Eevryone knew my mother until I began to need a class mother. Then work demands pulled her away more frequently and I guess that's a story for my therapist. Although I do still wnat to go to Sesame Place and don't even get me started on six flags. --- At a damn theme park with $30. I SPENT THAT ON A HOT PRETZEL WITH CHEESE! AND THE PRETZEL WAS LUKE WARM BUT THE CHEESE!! THE FUCKING CHEESE-- SCALDING HOT FOR NO ASS REASON-- WOULD'VE HAD SATAN HIMSELF LOOKING FOR ICE WATER! AND FOR GOOD MEASURE, I SPILLED THAT PASTUREIZED PROCESSED CHEESE FOOD/NAPALM ON MYSELF, THE PAIN CAUSED ME TO DROP THE DAMN PRETZEL AND I WOUND UP RIDING THE  GOTT DAMN TEA CUPS  OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN TILL IT WAS TIME TO LEAVE THAT SUM BITCH!! GREAT ADVENTURE MY ASS!!--- WOOSAAAAH!!! Let it go. Anywho, I remember the look on the faces of children who's mom's were embarassments, mainly because it tickled me to no end. Karmic justice that the bully's usually had the hot ghetto messes for moms. What's my point, well I want to be the class mother, yummy mummy, milf type.
It's time for a change. And a change is gonna come. I'm going to overhaul my life and look. From head to toe, I'm going to make neccesary and permanent changes. Hair, skin, nails, make up, glasses, clothing, shoes, everything!!
It's what I call and Project: Makeover; Nancy edition. I'll give myself some time to do some research on what changes would suit me best and I will debut my new look. I'll post before and after photos, maybe post some videos on youtube and I will emerge from my coccoon to soar as some sort of gorgeous confident uncoccooned, winged THING!!
... Must add work on forming coherent similes to the makeover list.

~Reality Check -I've said this so many times for other reasons before my son was born and still nothing. But I think he is a good enough motviation. I just have to keep him in mind while I'm doing this. And I'll hold onto one prevailing truth-
Procrastination is like masturbation. Sure it's relaxing but in the end, your just fucking yourself.
 #justdoit

I'm atmosphere

You ever watch a sitcom or a movie and see miscellaneous people meandering about in the background. Walking and interacting every now and then. Not in a significant manor but just enough to add to the overall feel of the scene. To give it some realness. Those people are called atmosphere. They're the little touches that round out the scenes of life. I am such a person. Nothing truly remarkable happens directly to me, unless you count child birth and that wasn't even that spectacular. (Oops, I'm knocked up! I'm being admitted today? I'm being induced now? I'm to small to push him out? You're slicing through how many layers of skin, fat and muscle? Eew, you are going to rinse the little bugger off before you show him to me, right? I can go home now? I LOST 40 pounds?! Coool.) I am always a supporting character at best only being a part of the "good stuff" when pulled into it.

I am atmosphere, adding a moment or two of poingnancy, objectivity, laughter, or unneccesary ludeness to situations dealing with those I see as "main characters". Try as I might, I just can't seem to transition from "atmosphere" to "leading lady". I should, if no else does, see myself as a star in this sitcom called life. Shouldn't I? I've been in a shell most of my life and its cozy and comfortable in here. I'm all alone in my own little world and it's OK cuz they know me here. Atleast that's how I used to feel. This shell is cramped and suffocating. It's choking off any possibilty for me to grow and it needs to go. But how? How do we change the perception that others have formed of us if we can't even change the perception that we have of ourselves?

That's me in the back