Saturday, October 3, 2015

October 2015

Some live, some die, some question the existence of both.
There, that's the only splinter of a spoiler I will give you as for what I'm writing right now. 
While not intentionally meaning to write out someone's death during the Halloween month, I'm writing this chapter for someone. Which means: I'm not exactly writing grieving scenes from just my imagination: I once lost a third cousin to lung cancer. I know what grieving is like, so it makes it easier to describe how it feels and what you go through. It's not known why she got it: Sometimes cancer happens in places you don't expect, and she was never around smokers or anything that could have caused it.
She was a very caring individual, loving people and animals, and equally being loved by them for her sweet kindness (Her neighborhood police department even sung at her cremation service, a few of them singing in tears.). She wanted to become a veterinarian, but she got cancer before she could go to school for it. She died a month after her 18th birthday. 
And I never got to meet her. I only first learned about her a few weeks before she died, but in those few weeks, I felt a deep, unexplained connection to her. I really wanted to meet her, but for some reason, I wasn't allowed to go visit her. She was in a coma at the time, and perhaps it would have been hard for her more immediate family to have lesser-known visitors to show up in the room, but it still would have been nice to go. When I heard about her death, I cried long and hard (My eyes tear up now at the thought of it), and I was a numb leg in the world for a while afterwards, stumbling through life, struggling to move on. 
Although the character I've just killed is hardly like her, the person who loved him/her felt robbed of time. They didn't get to spend much time together, and then the character was gone. That feeling alone is the theme of this chapter. This is for you, Alex.

Oct 1
Stopped writing at: 1:52 AM
Words written: 262
Total words so far: 126,096
Day: 88


 I'm sick with a cold. Blowing my nose off. I wish it would come clean off, but then it would be very messy. 
 I know it's very late at night (early in the morning, depending on whether you see the glass half-empty or half-full), but I really wanted to write tonight. It's not easy to write when you get distracted by a storm (much rain, much wind of 25 - 45 mph), "don't feel like it for some reason " and feel restless during the day (I always seem to do this, so I waste hours of my life roaming the internet), and wish your family learned to be less talkative (Sometimes, I jokingly imagine duct tape over their mouths with an "Oh, I see! So this is what quiet is! This isn't too bad, actually!" in their eyes.). Ah, well. At least I get to sleep in tomorrow morning. What's my excuse for not writing since October 1st? Family stuff, again. Running errands, shopping for my mom, my sister having bunion and likely acid reflux problems, taking my sister to the doctor, etc. Okay, and another thing is contemplating over how I'll write the next series of scenes. My mind kind of went blank when I had to deal with family troubles on top of character troubles. After all, it can be overwhelming when you practically have to solve the problems of two families at once. (Okay, for some reason, that sounds like polygamy. Let me make it clear, even though it probably is: All of my characters feel like a whole 'nother family I have to care for. Let's hear it: "Aww!")
 Forgive me if my writing is a little weird and compulsive right now. I've had a fever on and off for two days, now. Last night (er, the wee hours of October 10th), it went up to 99.6 F. This evening (October 10th, that is), it was 99.2 F.Hmm. Maybe I'll take my temp, now. If I can manage to breathe from my nose. I hate this old-fashioned thermometer. The digital kind that goes in your ear is my favorite for obvious reasons. Actually, this thermometer is a bit thick. I remember growing up with thin ones that I could easily hold underneath my tongue with my tongue and teeth. Now I have to hold it in place with my hand. *inserts boring elevator music* ...Oh, that's good. It's a perfect 98.6 F. Now, to go to bed. It's 5:01 AM, and my cat is glaring at me (nay, actually, she's having trouble keeping her puffy eyes open. "Sweetie, must you always wait for me to go to bed?" Poor little girl can't sleep unless everyone else is asleep and in bed. Just like me, actually. Sometimes, I don't know whether she tries to be like me or we're just similar. Like using the toilet. I use the toilet, then she uses the litter box. Sometimes, it's the opposite: She steps into the litter box while I'm on my way to the toilet. Personally, I think she's just my alter ego. A mini me, if you will. 
 Oh, look at the time. I've been yammering on for 8 more min- *interruption by Sweetie climbing into my lap with a loud purr and sniffing/touching my nose as if saying [in a 3 y/o girl's voice], "Jen, you really need to go to bed. Remember: Your nose is sick."
 Okay, Sweetie. Let's go to bed. (Speaking of which, this is her favorite thing to hear me say, and yes, this is Sweetie in this video: https://youtu.be/bN7Sr1uxfvw )

I'll fix this later:
126,644  total words so far
4:14 AM stopped at
Oct. 11 date
Day 89
 ...So, talking about death, I lost a good friend at work in the middle of this October. She died. My life works like that, unfortunately. Like identical chains being linked together in bunches. "Is this topic related to this one? Let's organize them and put them together so they happen around the same time." But, I suppose God lets things happen together because He knows it helps me to understand and go through things better and to move on easier. 
 It certainly helped having a "weird dream" of being in a rollover car accident a few months before I actually had one. It really, super helped me a lot. After 1 1/2 years, it still does. Although I don't actually believe it 100%, I still feel like "it was just a bad dream", just like how my mom put it when I'd wake up from one when I was young. The comforting reassurance that all these things happen simply because it was its time (And for death, there is no easy time for anyone) is like a mother's arms to go to when you want to cry. 
 That's why I suddenly stopped writing. Oh, also because a family member of mine was illegally kicked out to live on the streets by his disabled care facility without being given his meds and only being given a tiny amount of money to last a whole week. So, I've been having to take matters into my own hands to get better care for him.
 So, yeah. A lot of things happen in this crazy life of mine. 
Q: Could it get any crazier than this? 
A: Yes. Always. Never say you doubt it for any moment.

Q: What am I doing now for writing?
A: Nanowrimo! I've been wanting to do this for several years after being urged by a friend. If you're on it, you can add me as a Writing Buddy if you want. My name is on the nanowrimo website  is SlugDiaper. :)



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