myah5000

There are discussions that should never be overheard. Observations that should never be made. Questions that should never be asked. I knew this, of course. Not everyone needs to know everything. But when you see changes in the people around you or hear things about them- the people you care about- then it's impossible not to make those observations. Wonder about those discussions. Ask those questions. I asked. Oh, I asked, and you have no idea how much I've regretted it. My stomach roils and my head hurts and I'm so worried that in asking too many questions I have put at risk something very dear. You would think, after the disastrous wr

It’s a simple premise, really. People take people by surprise. The cousin you thought was so sweet showcases a hell of a temper. The friend you had so much in common with you now walk past with a sigh, avoiding each other’s eyes. The person you didn’t really talk to is the one that holds fast when your world shatters around you. But sometimes, you can even take yourself by surprise. And nothing is as surprising as your first time. One day things are as you are used to. You wake up with the usual struggle against comfort and warmth, go through the usual debate as to exactly how healthy your meals that day are going to be. Y

I almost changed the name of my website this weekend. About a week ago, a good friend of mine reminded me of the musicians Simon and Garfunkel. I had heard of them before, and love one of their songs (being me, I didn't realise that the song was by them before that night). Still, over the last week it resulted in me listening to some of their music. Their talent is undeniable, but it was their lyrics that most drew me in. So many times, they seem to be singing to or even about me somehow. Especially The Sound of Silence. I have always thought of my writing as a shout into the void; a scream into the darkness. I am one of the crowd in that s

I've been thinking quite a lot about virgin sacrifice lately. This odd topic is mostly because of a very odd chain of thought from the Lizzie Bennet Diaries fandom, but it's stuck with me for long enough that I have to get this down on... epaper, I guess. You see, I'm typing this in sta.sh. Because I'm not sure if I'm going to be posting this to my public dA account or not. If you're reading it there... I guess I did. My uncertainty as to whether to post or not has little to do with what I thought the issue would be at the end of my last Introvert piece (which, in part, just goes to show how odd life is). My uncertainty has more to do with

There's a very strange irony that surrounds my "Introvert" pieces. I write them; I post them online. I have a link to my deviantArt profile on my facebook page. But somehow... I don't really expect people to read them. Yes, I know that technically my followers here are "people", but you're people from Ireland. America. Europe. Australia. South America. Canada. It'd be great to meet you guys, but I doubt I ever will. By "people", I mean those I actually know and hang out with outside the internet. Most of my "real life" friends don't dig through my account here. Frankly, I doubt that they even dig through my account on facebook! So it was a

Paparazzi. Over the weekend, I’ve heard the word thrown more than once in my direction. It’s well-earned, I know. For years, ever since I first held a camera, I’ve loved to take shots of people I know- and even those I don’t- in unguarded moments. A laugh as they talk with friends. Just walking across the room. Dancing with their other half. Bending over and cooing at a friend’s newborn. I just love those pictures. Of course, because they’re taken unaware, people object. I guess they see the camera as invading on private moments- even when it’s not exactly “private”. I can understand&hel

She watched the blood spread out from his fallen body. The gun was so heavy in her tiny hand, the steel burning her poor palms just as she'd known it would, but she couldn't seem to put it down. Instead, she sat on the carpet, the heavy black gun wobbling slightly as she still held it on him. Waiting. Just in case. Her ears were still ringing from the blast- vaguely, she wondered at the silence. It was never silent in this place. Someone was always yelling. Crying. Complaining. She was the only quiet one. But now he was quiet too. Maybe. The carpet itched the backs of her bare legs- by reflex, she began to draw them to her chest. Pain!

Tenzin sat alone in the darkness, mind in turmoil. He had always known this day would come. When he would have to face the full folly of his youthful mistakes. Korra's recent news confirmed what he had feared for a very long time. That his past indiscretions with the one he once called friend had led to tragedy. He couldn't tell Korra the truth. Not yet. Hopefully, not ever. His eyes drifted shut as the images flashed by. Hearing the tale of the Lion Turtle from his father. Being persuaded to accompany a group of the airbending students to a local tavern. A single night of allowing them to persuade him to try the fire whiskey. Just try

They say that you can't truly get to know someone over the internet. That, in my case, is very true. I throw up so many barriers and false images that not even those who believe they know me best online know me at all. Although sometimes, they do surprise me. So maybe they know me better than I thought they would. But I digress. That debate- as to whether you can truly get to know someone you've never actually met, whether you can grow to care about them as you would anyone else, can be raged another time. But right now, I want no part of it. Because I know that those who deny the power of internet friendships simply have no idea what fel