Finding Neverland

There is one movie that I have watched over and over and that, without fail, has me weeping like a sad child. It’s like clockwork. I put on the movie and I’m fine, and then towards the end the tears begin to flow. I turn into this big, emotional ball of sadness when I watch it. I don’t understand it. No wait, I do.

The movie is Finding Neverland and I think the reason I always cry is because I feel like I will never find my own Neverland. I am being chased by ticking crocodiles and I’m not even close to being a part of one of the Lost Boys. The movie is fascinating for me, as a writer and just as an imaginative person. I can imagine that we all have our own version of Neverland. I am sure mine is filled with magic and fairies, mermaids and unicorns. Silly, I know, but full of wonder. A much better place than I live now.

I feel in this day and age that we, as people, have lost the magic we so desperately need. We’ve become so involved in social drama, gossip and unimportant bullshit that we rarely have the time to stop and smell the flowers. We should be exploring the forest, picnicking in the park, reading books and drawing pictures. We should be painting, speaking with strangers until they are no longer strangers, find new hobbies, meeting new people. There should be more love, less violence and hate. More movie nights, more building pillow and sheet forts in your bedrooms, and definitely more late night conversations.

I am guilty of falling into the human trap. The social media, the technology. I don’t go anywhere without my phone. I find myself too wrapped up in the digital world than in the real world. I am living my life through Tumblr, facebook and twitter. Conversations become broken because I must check my phone to check the latest bullshit someone has posted. I’m guilty. We all are. I am not sure about the rest of you, but I want to find my own Neverland. I want to travel, I want to write more. Less facebook, more actual books. I am so desperate with this need to find something more. To detach myself from certain things. I want more freedom. More exploration.

I am going to find Neverland. On my own.


Midnight secrets

I find myself at a point of destruction. Do I crash and burn or fight and survive? Sometimes it seems all to easy to give up. After all, I’d rather crash than fight.

There is a character I invented a long time ago. His name was Zaki. I say was because never again will I use him in anything. I became attached to him. Some of you will never understand a writers relationship with their characters, so it’s ok.

He was a piece of me that I didn’t even realize I created. He was an out loud person. Someone who spoke their mind freely. He was dirty and perverted, always centered on the sexual aspect, never on love. Is easier to be sexually involved rather than emotionally. He drank to fill a null and void in his life and he was careless and reckless with his life.

This may not be me exactly, but I poured my heart and soul into this character and made him real in my mind. He was the male version of me.

I hate that. I hate that I take parts of myself and give it to this imaginary people on pages. I hate that my mind and my souls gets to live in these characters who have lives I’d love to live.

I often wonder what it would be like if I could be one of my characters. I’d be prettier. I’d be skinnier. I’d love more freely. I’d travel. I’d be what I wanted to be.

Then I realize something.

I can be all that I want to be. I have control over all of that. I can work harder to be smaller. I could take a little extra time to look pretty. I could let people get a little close to me. I could save money and take more trips. Only, it’s easier to just write other peoples lives instead of my own.

To be honest, I don’t really know where I was going with this. I think I just needed to get some things out of my mind. My head has been hurting a lot lately. Maybe too many pent up thoughts?