Sorry I didn't blog for days! I assure you all that it is purely because of lack of things to blog about. These are the things I've done since Monday:
- Sat around.
- Played The Sims 2.
- Played Super Paper Mario Bros.
- Ate hot pockets.
- Browsed the Internet.
And there we have it. Of course I haven't done anything interesting enough to warrant blogging today, but five days is just far too long for me.
Ooh, but on Monday, I went to Great Adventure again! This time with Silver and Kim! Unfortunately, Shari had to cancel, but luckily Kim was available, because I was having a meltdown trying to find someone to invite :D
Of course, the day couldn't be entirely fantastic. On the first ride we went on, when I stood up to leave, my phone fell from my pocket and managed to slip out of the seat and underneath the rails. Seriously. Seriously. I don't know why terrible things happen to my phone, but they do. The guy there told me to come back at the end of the day, which I couldn't exactly do, so we trekked on over to the lost and found area and I filled out a form and everything. So it's all good, right? Someone working at the ride would get my phone once the park closed, drop it off at the lost and found, and then they would call me and everything would be great? Apparently not, because it's been five days and they still haven't called, which means either no one got it or no one turned it in. Either way, I am phoneless, which is especially awful because I'm sitting around the house all day with no human contact.
Other than that, though, the trip was great! Kim was being a wimp and refusing to go on anything bigger than The Runaway Mine Train (which is, for the many who don't know, a fairly small ride) , but Silver and I went on El Toro, and it was FANTASTIC. If you ever go to Six Flags Great Adventure, GO ON THIS RIDE. I screamed the entire time.
Afterwards, Kim and Silver came back to my house, where we looked through my stories bin for a while, until Silver was picked up by her mom. Then Kim and I biked around a bit, came back, and played Abalone. Since I suck at Abalone, she was BEATING ME on her first time playing, which is honestly just disgraceful to me. But her mom came to pick her up before we finished the game, so the game is postponed until the next time she's at my house, and she hasn't won yet.
On a slightly (very) unrelated note, Silver has insisted that I improve upon and add to my NaNoWriMo story, except I don't really want to. After days of writer's block, I've finally come up with a new story that doesn't offend me! I haven't nailed down all the details, yet, but basically it's about a girl who suddenly wakes up inside a laboratory only to be told that her life was an illusion and that it, and she, are nothing more than products of the lab. That's a very rough outline, but I only came up with it yesterday. This is what I have so far:
I am real.
I have real living thoughts and feelings; I feel real pain, real cold biting at my very real, bloody fingers.
I feel things. I feel right now, and that can’t be made up. I have memories that are only mine, not fabricated, not reproduced, but mine. I remember the warmth of the sun on the mountains when it reflected off of fast-melting snow and filled the valley with light; I remember the scratch of the sweaters my grandmother made for me. I remember the press of my brother’s hands against mine when he looked me in the eyes and told me to run. I remember the curve of Daniel’s body as it careened through the air. I remember, and these memories are mine.
I am real. I am me, and not one of their lies. And if I am going to die soon, which I know I am, then I want to die with proof to the world that I, , have existed and felt and loved and lost, and that they could not erase me—they could not claim me—because as surely as I still breathe, I am me.
The tidal wave grew in the horizon, high above the mountains and blotting out the sun, but I was blind to it. We were all blind to it, and moved through our lives with security we never dreamed was false. In the early days, when I was too young to remember, I floated through life with the knowledge that my world was the only world, and all that I saw and felt and touched was my own, and something that would last forever. The grass of the valley was mine, the scattered trees of my grandmother, the lonely cottage which never to me seemed lonely; the sun itself as it floated lazily through the sky was my entire existence. Days were endless and nights were stars and my father’s bedtime stories; I learned to sing and discovered how to dance, and my childhood was a perpetual state of dreamy euphoria.
Many a morning I would sit up in my little bed, crafted by my father, and stare at the sunlight which floated through the breezy curtains; I would crawl slowly out of bed, with tiptoed feet and half-shut eyes, and press myself against the cool windowpane and stare at the valley, at the way it cupped the morning. Then my mother would call us for breakfast, and I would forget the half-realized feelings the view had tried to evoke, till it was midmorning and my brother and I were pushed outside.
There was endless activity for us; when we were not doing something inside, we were outside, sometimes playing games, sometimes only running through the grass and feeling the wind in our hair, between our fingers. There was no such thing as boredom; when we had nothing to do inside we went out, and when we were tired we went in and occupied our time with board games and our parents. My brother, he was my constant companion; his name was Ethan, and he was more constant to me than the sun rising every day. There was never a moment when I was not with him and we did not exist in perfect harmony. There were no true arguments between us, even if we disagreed; he was my protector and companion, and there was no one in the world I loved or trusted more.
Every day would find us outside. In the summer we would race each other over the entire valley, running till the land sloped back upward. We would see who could scream the loudest so that our parents, far off at the house, could hear us. We wove hats and necklaces of grass, and daily climbed higher on the tallest tree in the valley, singing silly songs about the view. We spent entire evening running about, catching fireflies and playing tag, screaming and laughing—we were never lonely, because though we were the only ones in the entire valley, we had each other.
So, there we go! Tell me what you think! In case you're wondering why she's narrating like she is, it's because the real story-telling actiony part starts when she wakes up. Anyway. Ta-da!