IG's Inner Monologue

IndieGirl

TNPer
From the Favorite Things OOC Thread:
FT: When more of the forum community invests time to play in the OOC. It is almost crucial for building and forging the bonds of fellowship and camaraderie necessary to stabilize a region and make it stronger. The only reason, I believe, we were ever able to overthrow UPS Rail or Great Bight was because we were friends first, and we had something precious to us that was worth fighting for. A region ignores OOC games and RP at its peril. :2c:
If I could sum up my NS gameplay philosphy (perhaps even my philosophy for life in general) into one idea, that would be it. Friendship calls the faithful. If you can't make your house - or region - feel like a home, where there is a foundation of affection and respect beneath everyday issues, squabbles, and moods, you'll never feel the true need to protect, cherish, guard, and defend it.

I received a lovely email last week from a dear friend I hadn't heard from in years, a dear friend that I made here, in The North Pacific, over a decade ago. I have a handful of such treasured associations from those days, whom I most definitely don't communicate with as often as I should. I intend to change that, moving forward. That beloved group of compatriots from all corners of the globe, in a very real and indescribable way, became my family. I cherish them, and recall our often ridiculous antics more fondly than I can begin to say.

I love The North Pacific. It feels like a childhood home to me. There are strangers who live here, now. But strangers have the delightful potential to be friends. I want to stick around this time, and give that potential the opportunity it deserves.

In very real ways, that I might one day share, this place, and the people who once gathered here, saved my life. What kind of gratitude have I shown for that? Perhaps not as much as I should. I hope that changes. I owe these e-hallowed halls at least that much.

I truly look forward to getting to know each of you.
 

Wolfsea

TNPer
Welcome back and if you want crazy ramblings look no further than my blog Dunces with wolves.

looking forward to seeing you in action too rP-wise ;)
 

Kaschovia

St. Kaschivus of the Fifth Circle
Deputy Speaker
-
-
-
I know I haven't been here for that long, but I can't wait for the future, especially with such fantastic people!
 

IndieGirl

TNPer
Wolfsea:
Welcome back and if you want crazy ramblings look no further than my blog Dunces with wolves.

looking forward to seeing you in action too rP-wise ;)
Huzzah! Anyone who knows me, even a little, knows I am always a fan of crazy ramblings. :D
 

IndieGirl

TNPer
Kasch:
I know I haven't been here for that long, but I can't wait for the future, especially with such fantastic people!
I feel like we're already becoming good friends, Kasch. Thank you for being so welcoming!
 

Kaschovia

St. Kaschivus of the Fifth Circle
Deputy Speaker
-
-
-
IndieGirl:
Kasch:
I know I haven't been here for that long, but I can't wait for the future, especially with such fantastic people!
I feel like we're already becoming good friends, Kasch. Thank you for being so welcoming!
Honestly, I should be thanking all of you guys, as it was those few starting days that made me feel at home here. I just turned up, endorsed a few people and viola! Here I am.
 
D

Deleted User (Guest)

Guest
Welcome home, IndieGirl. I've heard a lot about you over the last few years from people that talk about you fondly and I'm really pleased to have the honour of meeting you myself.
 

IndieGirl

TNPer
Lord Ravenclaw:
Welcome home, IndieGirl. I've heard a lot about you over the last few years from people that talk about you fondly and I'm really pleased to have the honour of meeting you myself.
Thank you so very much, Mr. Delegate. The pleasure is mine! :blush:
 

IndieGirl

TNPer
One of my best friends lives just outside Orlando, and regularly goes to karaoke night at a satellite location of Pulse, and sometimes makes the trip into Orlando with a bunch of friends on the weekend. When I heard about the shooting, I panicked hoping she was okay, because I wasn't sure if she was there or not. Thankfully, she was alright, but then we found out that her boyfriend's little sister was there. They spent all day yesterday with no news, waiting to hear from her, and then found out last night that she was killed. She was only 25.

I hate that this happened. I hate that things like the continue to happen. I hate that until we figure out a way to get rid of the corruption in our government right now, lobbyists will make sure that the important discussions aren't even allowed to take place, let alone actually implementing the desperately needed changes.

R.I.P. Amanda Alvear. I'm sorry our country is so broken. I'm sorry that hate and terror stole your life and your family's happiness. I pray that they are blessed with an added measure of strength, peace, and comfort during this confusing and difficult time, and I pray that those of us who can, will stand up and choose to change the things we can so preventable tragedies like this will stop happening.
 

IndieGirl

TNPer
Sometimes, I write poetry. I have ever since I was about 13. It's part of where the name Poe came from.

Other times, occasionally, I will even share some of said poetry. This is one of those times...

day ran away
day ran away
on no legs &
cement block feet

home at last
but my head's still
down your street

skip skip skip
repeat type
type type delete


looking glass
tired
of tech
-nology
trying
to move
my life

further
&
further
out/away
of/from
my body

we are
already
ghosts
in machines


untitled
pushed against
this word wall

in a slow
show dance
around tell
nots & knots

in tiny
spirals brick
by brick
to a long void
& low hum

poetry
a bird of prey
shrieked

sunk talons
through my shoulders
& flung me at
a halo moon

full of holes
& the hot
spread of my
own blood

too many
people say
all the same
things with
all the same
words

i want you
in these lines

not what you
think i want
in these lines

don't tell me
the heart
is heavy

tell me what
sound an
iron heart

away
from a
magnet
presence

makes when it
meets the ground

start putting
wrong words
together
instead

grey hours &
long breaths

find me regret
in being too much
of a thing
to hold onto

it's silent
& time dilates

as my last
words
edgeskirt
spaces where

it still won't
speak anything
beside that
blind stare

infinite hopes
scream
underneath
paper skin

crisp edges
of september
outline all my
pencil
possibilities

eyes
look like
they'd
look good
on me

they're knots
in all my
little nerve

endings
& bite marks
inside my

bottom lip

a diffusion
of self

across
every tiny
universe

each a tiny
stone, a
peace

pulled
from all
these places
where i lie

each a
little grey
good
bye

forever
echoing
low rumbles
of laughter

cups filled
with the taste
of my name
on other
tongues

just ash
& aches
of stars
between
sheets

listen long
enough
to miss it
entirely

only ever
effervescent

light in
periphery

last notes
hung on
silence

a timbre
i tell to
myself
 

IndieGirl

TNPer
just ash

this is only
a smoke trail &
long-licked sky
burns far ahead.

watch how flame
curls on the edge of
all that comes first.

sun gleam
weaves a liquid gold
line & cartographs
clouds or
progression or
progress through clouds.

like violet mountains--
snaggletooth'd--bite into
sky, bite through
everything
insubstantial & just
insist on their space,
daring anyone bolder
to claim it.

you can climb
a mountain if you
must, but
can you move
a mountain out of
need?

until all its height,
heft, substance
& stubbornness
sit entirely beneath
the balls of your tiny,
tired feet.

because sometimes
faith is there
to move you
up the mountain, or
to move the mountain
beneath your work
& willfulness.

i just want
to peel these
peals of laughter
from the sides
of this ribcage,
set them free like
so many birds
from this mountaintop.

watch what’s most
myself, but not me,
climb higher if i
let it go, if i
don’t have to worry
about hanging on.

echoes of all
my inside selves
reverberate from
canyon walls, skip
across the tops of
douglas firs & shake
all the little aspen
leaves.

coyote chased
me up a mountain
to make me
love it, to make
me stop faulting
it from so far away.

coyote snapped
at my ankles, tore
my achilles until i
learned to run
without it, until
hurt and impossibility
became new legs
i climbed into &
made work for me.

coyote bit
the flesh from my
back until all i saw
was spine & i
found a backbone
to build a new
body, or a new
being in the body
i already had.

coyote laughed
& i recoiled, until
the hiss & hackles i
raised became
breath through sharp
teeth & matted blond
fur that smelled
like leaves &
late october.



summer

got that smother
sensation
& everything i touch
feels dirty because it’s

all too hot. even

with bare feet
under my desk i
can’t breathe.
jeans suffocate
calves & thighs &

i am ready for my skin
to split open like
a hot vine tomato

too ripe, not picked
soon enough to keep
this heat from
tearing me open. or

me tearing me
open, just to
strip down after i’ve
stripped down to
last layers & still got
that squalid sweat sense

of fraying at all my dry
ends & ready to
catch fire.



pick

a word, pick
a string of words.

a poem can be
a beaded thing, not like
a strand of pearls, more like when you stick
a threaded needle into
a bright pile of glass beads.

a pattern emerges,
an unintended result of repetition.
a single bead that marks
a beginning:
a color, or shape for
an eye to stick to.

a rhythm in
all of the static
and white noise.
 

IndieGirl

TNPer
:blush:

a cautionary tale
some days, it takes
all of your will
just to feel indifferent.


too red
sometimes it takes me
too far back
& i'm forced to
wade through regret
shame silence guilt
stupidity
silly me

resurface
just long enough
to pull me back in
& i drown in all my
obligations, all
my inanities &
real things i have
& haven't
done

why do i revisit
this labyrinth & think
i can ever find myself
or find what i
left behind & still
look for on long nights

god damn internet
instant access to
insecurity &
idiotsyncracies

i've crawled into
a sparklehorsehole
to write this because
it is noise & comfort
& a self it doesn't
make me hate

for all the nothings
i have been
or am being

it was more
space than i
could handle
this time, the tide
is too far out

global warming
or some shit
made it so it
can't come back to
that line
that life

i got
old somewhere
along the way
been thinking
in lines too straight
for too long

& i don't have
time to be anything
besides what
everyone
needs me to be

it only ever
comes back to
open all the wounds
of what i've not done
& leaves too soon
leaves me
bleeding lonely
like it's actually
lifeblood these days

i had just circled
back to a little poetry
& felt pleased
with myself

now i'm only
undone, riled

naked with the ends
of what once was
a sweater
in my hand

trying to sew
my mouth shut
so i stop saying
so much
so much except
the everything i
could've would've should've
said

if only i'dn'ta...

up a rabbit hole
reading under a tree
alice grew up
got a job
got debt &
pretty sure they
paved over the way
back to wonderland

no rowed back
to someday isle

the nots in my stomach
keep saying so
 
Top