Zero's Second Update

     For once, I rather just speak, or in this case write, something besides a short story. I thought I would express myself in a different manner. There are a few things I would like to address in this anti-creative writing. It's dreadfully boring, I know, but I do not know what else to write. Recently I have been either too focused on school work, or too focused on the novel that I will be starting soon (we'll get to that later). Not even video games seem to interest me, and I spent most of my childhood doing. I believe this shift in interests came from an event this weekend, around the time that I lost my wallet.
     I lost my wallet the other day at my friend's house, someone who happens to be very similar to Marie-Lynn, yet Marie-Lynn is not based upon her. It is funny how things have worked out between her and I since we met, but never lasting is my trust in her. Something always strikes me and makes me have doubts, sending me into my own sort of madness. It seems with her, I cannot escape the madness. To be honest, I'm quite used to it. That girl is very nice, yet a total fool it seems. I am not saying that I am not a fool myself, but at least I can admit that I am wrong, or perhaps even morally wrong. I always find myself thinking back to her when I think of the anger that people let take over them. To let yourself fall into the darkness of anger is something I believe to be the very destruction of your being. Much like jealousy and the urge for revenge, anger is a dark passion that corrupts the mind and twists the truth. This is why I never let myself succumb to the anger too much, but occasionally, I admit, I have succumbed nonetheless. I am not proud of myself, but atlas, I am only human after all. To expect perfection from myself would be far more insane than letting myself succumb to the anger forever. I know much of this must seem very off topic to you, but remember that I lost my wallet at her house. If I already had trust issues with her, would it not make sense that they would only be doubled by the disappearance of my wallet? I am afraid they were. While on one hand, I do trust her, on the other, a crazed devilish hand, I do not. This has become more of a confession than I had expected, but I shall continue writing nonetheless. It is not in my nature to erase what I have written before. I actually find that most of my writings, including fictional pieces (for the mere fact that they normally carry feelings and small truths in them that I can spot), are quite good records of my past. Ever since I have started writing (back in elementary school), certain details of my life have been recorded for me to view forever. In the future years, when I read this, I will remember this time in my life and most likely laugh or cringe at what I am like now. I do know one thing about my future, however. I know that I will still be a writer, or I will be unhappy. Writing is my passion in life, and whether it destroys me or not, I will always continue it faithfully. That brings me to the next thing I wished to go off about, my starting a novel soon.
     In about five or six days, I will be beginning a novel for something called "NanoWrimo", also known as National Novel Writing Month. It is a sort of contest with yourself and time. Let us see if we can write a 50,000 word novel in a month. Does not sound too harsh, does it? I have already started writing my own plan, a sort of outline actually, for the novel itself. The novel will be called "Love: A Chaotic Insanity", and is a new sort of novel for me. As you've seen from "The Beginning of The End" I tend to work with a lot of figurative language and character development. I am repeating this, and have already found metaphors and similes for the three main characters. Only one of these characters may fit a description familiar to another character from other stories, but her name is different. The girl of the night is back, hopefully one final time. While many of the other times she was an actual part of the story in real life, or an unknowing victim of one of my stories, in this story I merely chose her description for the symbolic meaning of it. I am not racist, but symbolically speaking, the dark features represent evil, which is exactly what her character is. Do not worry, I am not giving away any spoilers here. It should be made very clear within the first five or ten pages of the novel that she is evil or at least dark. Her name in this story is also different, being Zilia instead of Malika. While both are very strange and foreign names, Malika means queen, and I wanted her name to mean something else. Zilia means jealousy in Greek, which initially I had planned for jealousy to be an aspect of hers. Currently I am not sure, but I do know that she will not represent any good aspects. I want the reader, (that is you) to hate her. The absolute main character, or the narrator, is a boy named Styr, who carries aspects of no character I have written about before. Styr is an indecisive boy with grey eyes (symbolizing that 'grey zone') and crimson red hair. I want Styr to be seen as unstable and unpredictable, so watch out, his blood-dried hair (a nice way of describing it) may become more than just different. Not only that, but Styr's name has a meaning as well, but I shall not say it here. Look the meaning of his name up yourself if you truly wish to. Styr begins the story by introducing the dark beauty, Zilia. He still does not know what will unfold in their final year of high school, nor does he know that he is about to meet someone else who will become important in his life. I am speaking of Krystal, who symbolizes the good in people. She is innocence and truth (according to my notes), but she is not perfect. Perfection itself, to me, is only obtainable by truly accepting that you are not perfect, and loving yourself anyways. Humans are wonderfully complex beings, and we should celebrate our complexity. Anyways, back to Krystal, she has golden hair and pale white skin. The skin is often compared to snow in my notes. (if you do not understand that metaphor, look long and hard at "Snow White") Her eyes are currently planned to be green, like the leaves of the summer leaves. This is subject to change considering that it was blue two weeks ago. I still have not decided how she gets involved in the chaotic insanity that stirs after school starts. This chaos affects two realms of being, but one is only visible to Styr. This second realm is his dreams, and will be revealed to you as I please over the course of the novel. Anyways, I do believe I have gone on quite long enough about this new novel of mine. Perhaps it has excited me too much. November is less than a fortnight away after all.
     That brings me to my last order of business. Despite the novel writing that will occupy my time in November, I will try to post something throughout the month. Currently, I am considering poems that I have written in my free time. While I doubt they are any good, I find that they will be better than nothing. Also, I do intend to post excerpts of "Love: A Chaotic Insanity" as I write it in November, just to keep you updated. While these excerpts will probably look something like "The Beginning of The End" parts that are already up on here (but probably much better in terms of writing overall), I will label them as final versions and may repost the edited versions after I finish writing the whole novel and edit it myself. Plenty of my friends, the younger ones at least, do not understand why I do not try to publish any of my work yet. To put it simply, I do not believe that a seventeen year old's work will be equal to a nineteen or twenty year old's work, at least not in my case. I grow as a writer every day, and recently I have been getting into many historical texts, such as The Iliad, The Odyssey, Metamorphoses, and even Mein Kampf. Do not worry about that last text, I am reading it merely to have a greater understanding of that time. I will never seek the power that Hitler did, nor will ever follow a government blindly. You can label me "An Enemy of the People" all you want, but I will always stand for what I believe in. Politics do not concern me, you would do better not to get me involved. God forbid that I get involved and write powerful texts that may change the way some people look at the politics themselves. Anyways, back to the reason I will not publish anything for quite a while. I am not driven by greed, and do not write for a profit. I write because I write, simply put. If I were to charge people for my stories, the least I could do is make sure they are not entertainment, but art. Sure, they can be entertaining, but I will attempt to keep my work from being entertainment as much as I can. It is not that which is entertainment that succeeds a generation of people, it is art. The Iliad is not entertainment, it is art. I want to reach a level like that. A hundred years from now, I want people to still be reading my work, so I have to make sure that my work is worth reading at all. Well, I do believe I have gone on enough. I shall leave a small poem at the end of this dreadfully boring thing just to close it off, and I will try to post more poems over the month of November. Wish me luck, and take care, appreciated reader.
     Her Beauty is like a Summer's Day

Her beauty is like a summer's day,
Ever so beautiful beyond compare.
Everyone adores her beauty,
Never noticing any flaws.


Her beauty is like a summer's day,
When the sunlight shines for the longest of the year.
Everyone basks in her warmth,
Preferring it over all.


Her beauty is like a summer's day,
Often too hot and humid.
Everyone hides in the shade,
Wishing the world would cool.


Her beauty is like a summer's day,
Bound to only last a short time.
Some wish it would last longer,
But I rather watch it fade.


Her beauty is like a summer's day,
Short lasting and truly fickle.
I shall watch it fade away,
Laughing as she suffers her fate.


-Zero