Finishing the last word, she closed the perfect book. It was the fifth perfect book she’d read that week. The sun started to flood into her eyes and the dam to fiction crumbled under the force of reality.

As her eyes readjusted, a man stood in the corner whose leather jacket hadn’t fit him since his high school years, but he wore it anyway. He was puffing his cigarette, trying to make circles with his smoke, but he never could do it. They always looked like big swirling clouds, like the ones that carry the rain, but in a matter of seconds, they’d fade away to reveal his frustrated face.

“I thought you promised to stopped smoking in the house, Slade,” she barely squeaked, her vocal chords weak from not having much use over the past several hours.

“I’m not, babydoll. I’m smoking right outside the window. Beside, didn’t you also promise that you’d become a better cook for me? That hasn’t happened yet.”

“Why can’t you smoke on the porch? I just got you a new chair for out there.”

“Seems like you’re just fixing to get me out of the house.” Slade crushed the butt of the cigarette into the window pane and tossed it out the window into her flowerbed. “And what a strange thing it is to have rules enforced on me in my own house.”

“There are rules for everything, Slade. Nothing works without them.”

“Is that what your little books taught you?” He started sauntering toward her with a menacing swagger, pointing at her with the same hand that had brought her so much pain. “That if you do this and this and this, you’ll have the perfect life? Life ain’t a book, honey. You’ll never have anything perfect. You’ve just got me.”

Even though what he said was true, it didn’t mean that she didn’t deserve a perfect life, or at least one that was a little closer to perfection.

“And ain’t it a shame that I’m still here.”

Finishing the last word, she closed the perfect book. It was the fifth perfect book she’d read that week. The sun started to flood into her eyes and the dam to fiction crumbled under the force of reality.


As her eyes readjusted, a man stood in the corner whose leather jacket hadn’t fit him since his high school years, but he wore it anyway. He was puffing his cigarette, trying to make circles with his smoke, but he never could do it. They always looked like big swirling clouds, like the ones that carry the rain, but in a matter of seconds, they’d fade away to reveal his frustrated face.


“I thought you promised to stopped smoking in the house, Slade,” she barely squeaked, her vocal chords weak from not having much use over the past several hours.

“I’m not, babydoll. I’m smoking right outside the window. Beside, didn’t you also promise that you’d become a better cook for me? That hasn’t happened yet.”


“Why can’t you smoke on the porch? I just got you a new chair for out there.”


“Seems like you’re just fixing to get me out of the house.” Slade crushed the butt of the cigarette into the window pane and tossed it out the window into her flowerbed. “And what a strange thing it is to have rules enforced on me in my own house.”


“There are rules for everything, Slade. Nothing works without them.”


“Is that what your little books taught you?” He started sauntering toward her with a menacing swagger, pointing at her with the same hand that had brought her so much pain. “That if you do this and this and this, you’ll have the perfect life? Life ain’t a book, honey. You’ll never have anything perfect. You’ve just got me.”


Even though what he said was true, it didn’t mean that she didn’t deserve a perfect life, or at least one that was a little closer to perfection.


“And ain’t it a shame that I’m still here.”

for the first time in forever i decided to post something let me know if you hate it spilled ink rejectscorner short story love story romance escape escapism love love prose

Goodnight, Beastie

beastiewings:

Listen/Download: Goodnight, Beastie by Secretly Geek

Art by Alizabug

I apologize for inconveniencing those who have no method of payment, but since my music is becoming more complex and professional, I have begun to charge.  I thank each and every one of you for supporting my passion, and being my inspiration.  

-Kate (⌒▽⌒)

Ab C Fm9
You will lie in wait for true love’s kiss
Little girl, you ought to know that doesn’t exist
Don’t worry, you won’t be missed
So goodnight, Beastie

Cm Ebm7 Cm9
Your father broke my heart
When he took my wings
Now you will be cursed
Prick your finger, you won’t feel a thing

I walk this earth alone
Promises made to be broken
With thorns around my home
Nothing to love can get in

You will lie in wait for true love’s kiss
Little girl, you ought to know that doesn’t exist
Don’t worry, you won’t be missed
So goodnight, Beastie

Leave it to three klutz
To nurture you to death
I’ll raise you if I must
To exact my revenge

I’ll show you magnificence
Faeries and magic of the Moor
Yes, your curser was Maleficent
But I’m not her anymore

Ab C Fm9
The sun has set
True love has failed
There’s no hope left
Just as I said

I never thought the one to mourn would be me

You’re lying in wait for true love’s kiss
Little girl, now you know it doesn’t exist
I’m afraid you will be missed
Goodnight, Beastie

Goodnight

My sister made a thing.

(via frozest)

maleficent original music indie music

I Graduated… So What’s Next?

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My commencement ceremony probably dwarfs yours. Over 17,500 graduating, 35,000 attendees overall. (Two hours before the ceremony started, there was no parking left on campus.) And since my college has normalized the grandeur for me, it didn’t feel that spectacular. (i.e. “The convocation speaker just gave $20 to every single person in the stadium. The stadium has over 8,000 people in it right now…. Cool. Brb. Going to go get some free kettle corn they’re handing out. Maybe I’ll stop to talk to Willie Robertson.”)

During commencement, I just sat in the crowd, wondering why we still practiced wearing long black gowns over our clothes despite the 80 degree weather.

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Symbolically, the day served well as closure. Yay, I’m finally done sitting in a classroom. That was the only part I hated. I love researching and writing about anything, but put me in a room of equally socially inept people, and we will all just pretend that no one else is in the room as we play Flappy Bird. (Or you have the other extreme where your classmate is obsessed with researching Scandinavian history and how it ties into Lord of the Rings & the entire world must know.)

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When it was all said & done, I graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree in History and can analyze and research like a machine. (But really though, my papers were so good that my professors wept over them, making the ink bleed until it was unrecognizable.)

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My immediate future? Living in this college town for two more years as I work for the university’s library. Seeing young faces all the time is exhilarating at night but exhausting during the day. Sometimes I just want to grab the closest 40-year-old and talk about candle warmers and gardening.

My future in the next 5 years? Get married; move the the west coast; get a job as the YA fiction librarian; own a standard poodle & pomeranian; be close to finishing a research/fiction book. (This is the point where I would add a footnote saying: “And to also be as ripped as Hugh Jackman. Or to have Hugh Jackman make me breakfast every morning. Whichever happen sooner.”)

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Where do you want to be 5 years down the road? Reblog & attach your own photo collage of your future using fotor!

 

graduation college history degree commencement future personal

Had an awesome night last night at a party with coworkers & friends! My favorite story told was about when one of my coworkers was in middle school. Some kids decided to pick on him, so he told them if they wanted to start something, he wasn’t going to sit back and take it. Even though they backed off, his highly developed brain thought, “I should throw the first punch.” Don’t know if we’re much smarter now. 😋

Had an awesome night last night at a party with coworkers & friends! My favorite story told was about when one of my coworkers was in middle school. Some kids decided to pick on him, so he told them if they wanted to start something, he wasn’t going to sit back and take it. Even though they backed off, his highly developed brain thought, “I should throw the first punch.” Don’t know if we’re much smarter now. 😋