I Am In Need Of Another Story

A Person cannot write anything outside her experience. That places me in the worst position ever because I have not experienced anything. Not a pinch of excitement has flowed in my veins. I have been living for the sake of living, not for any substantial cause. I haven’t even made my own decisions, not because my rents are ruling over me but because I am always shadowed by fear. I can only speak of the things I know of and the one thing I think that I am sure of is myself. I, who lacks compassion and dedication. I who passes up every opportunity beyond what I could consider rational. 

“ I need another story, something to get off my chest My life is kinda boring, its something that’ I cant confess. “ by ONE REBUBLIC

But I’m confessing it now, I could only write or tell about my miseries,  my what if’s. Maybe this isn’t my story or maybe I don’t even have a story. I’m only a minor character , a flat one that requires minimal action that I was am just here to fill an empty space in a moment of some one else’s life. Maybe I’m just stranded at one moment waiting to be called out to fill another space into another moment. Someone’s moment because it’s what I was born for. Maybe at the beginning of my life I was just too passive, passive enough that I could not even be heard nor seen. Maybe a failed to qualify as a major character and the world or whoever it is has decided to kick me out and made me like this because I was born as I am. A good character possesses plausibility, sympathy, motivation, vitality and is consistent. I am neither of the lot. So what am I here for? Just to witness numerous scenes? Sometimes I whisper to myself to try to be part of the landscape. That the antidote for my flatness is just to be active enough to be noticed. But I’m not that person, I cant even try even if I wanted to. I am chained and will always be. That’s my story.  It’s static, it doesn’t even have a plot to begin with therefore, the short story that possesses a single plot is ruled out thus, there is no I am, only : I am not. Maybe I just looking for an adventure to cease my dullest of dullness. Like Tolkien who cannot find someone to share it with.  If only I am one of his characters, if only I am fiction and not half-real.

MortAl Instruments : City of Bones

Dammit! I'm a Mundane!!!!!

In the wizarding world of Harry Potter, I am regarded only as a muggle (although I have this gut feeling that I could be a mud blood), a mere non- magic human. In the LJ Smith’s night world, I could only aspire to be part of a circle. In Cassandra Clare’s I am no less than a mundie, could there be any other word that could accurately define me?
I’m not the type that follows the trend as if it is a necessity. The side lines is where my kingdom is, and most of the time I am it’s only inhabitant. So being completely taken over by NEPHILINS or SHADOW HUNTERS to me is like wearing peep toe pumps just to fake my 5’1 height.  Angels , half , fallen , hunters are the newest trend In fantasy books right now and im just the same old me who gets too easily hooked because suddenly being able to breathe isn’t a matter of life and death anymore, it’s this superficial world where I see myself in the eye of the heroine.
The series centers in the life of CLARY FRAY AND JACE WAYLAND.
CLARY : short, redhead, bad temper.

She is a red headed girl from BROOKLYN, living life as mundane only to find out that her true home is In IDRIS, a place for shadow hunters who live by the oath of the Angel. 

JACE: “Jace likes to pretend that everyone isn’t talking about him, even when he knows they are.”
       

Here’s the stich; he’s arrogant yet charming. He acts like he’s in love with himself but when he realized clary can see him ( with glamour) , he began acting like nothing is at risk when it comes to her.

So this new Chapter isn’t part of the plan.

 I woke up later than usual. it’s 10 A.M and I’m still curling in my bed like a sick girl in a hospital bed. Lifeless, tired of the world’s endless spinning. Another chapter in my life is bound to be repeated yet again. The chapter that requires me to live in solitude and remain contained In that depressing corner that sucks the pieces of my life away as if I’ve been kissed by a damned dementor with no chocolate to suffice my loss. I am tired of moving every time someone else have to. That’s why I stayed away from people so that I could stabilize my shaken ground. But that phase of my life is done and I do not want to take that trip to memory lane again. All I wanted was to stay put live life the way it is normally done. But I think nothing in life is ever normal. I’m not talking just about my life but in others as well. But I choose to focus on mine anyway. I knew this was going to happen sooner or later but I guess it’s really not something you get to prepare for. How is life supposed to be lived anyway? If there’s any ’’Life for dummies’’ book out there I’m sure as hell I haven’t heard of it. Oh, I’m aware of the bible, the rights of man but those doesn’t strike any interest. I need a person in my life in a completely platonic way, someone to make decisions, to do things I refuse to do. Someone to take charge temporarily when I can’t steer myself anymore. I guessed I have always longed for one, and it’s just now that I finally came to admit it. I have wished that I lived differently, learned to be contented and wanted things differently. Life itself is unstable, I wished differently but destiny has always declared it’s war on me.