I seem to have (un)officially moved here

I was going to put this under my new journal (ijikukeistva) but ugh, I forget one of the 'i's so I couldn't log in...
It's something that has always seemed oddly "obvious" to me; at least insofar as an obvious deduction. There you go.

Anyway...

Since I've seen a two others do this...

New Year's Resolution: keep it simple
1. Take it easy! Don't fret, stress, and feel I can't write
2. GET MY WRITING OUT (don't be so damn afraid of people stealing it!!) I'm terrified of it. I might be more afraid of that than losing a limb.
3. Ah! Write every day. At least something! (whether it's map-making, language-making, literal writing, outlining/script writing, plot editing/organizing/developing, character sketching insofar as cultural styles go, and any general histories, mythologies and legends)

I think that's it...everyone else seems so mature and I'm just...trying to focus on my writing. Why? I don't know...I just feel as if I need to...There's something good in it sometimes, pieces of it, and shines to me sometimes but I don't know if it's just me and I'm just biased or if there's merit. *sigh* Gee I'm getting gloomy. Up, up. Um...writing is bloody difficult isn't it?

Here's my mantra: Jo March (from Little Women) - if I remember her dedication I can't stop trying to write.

I was going to write up a synopsis of a new short story but it's too long...

memories on moonlit waters

Rain was spilling from the sky, rocking the small vessel like a bobbing apple in a water bucket. Half-sinking into the stormy sea, the wooden boat struggled forward, it's tanned hide [what kind of hide?] keeping the wet out from the birch-wood frame inside. The sun had begun sinking as well, dipping beyond the horizon back where land now lay, glossmer light grimly illuminating the inky waves. Crested at the top with plumes of grey-white, they feed on one another, eating each other up in a greedy display of black and blue darkness, tearing apart. And so the buckling waves sought to tear apart the small vessel. Wind stung against the passenger's exposed skin, chilled and wind-raw.
This is not how it was supposed to be...
Hardly far off in his mind, he could still recall the heated arguments following his decision to travel out to sea...
"Are you maddened? There are dangers out there, untold calamity yet you wish to seek it out? Brother, if I did not know you better I would say your wisdom has began to fail you."
"Kanay'ian, it is more than that." Despite his elder sister's accusations and panic, Eii'taske found his voice calm. "There is so much out there, so much to explore. Things we have never seen nor dreamed of."
"That makes it all right then." Biting her lip, Kaniany'ian turned away, her face shrouded by dark strands of her hair. She had yet to tie it up for the daily work, so it hung longer and unbraided like a stream of black water. 
Thinking she was finished, Eii'taske opened his mouth but her words continued, muffled behind the blanket of hair shading half her face. "It makes it all right to leave us like this, leave father like this."
Though her voice was soft, the tone was as rigid as stone. Cringing, he found no words to deny her truth. Their father's health was deteriorating, diminishing swifter than the season could past. And with all the wars eastward...her meaning was not lost.
"I have to risk it all the same, Kaniany'ian. There is too much riding on this to ignore it. I hope someday you understand that duty is not always the best path if it you leaves bleeding in remorse. I truly hope you can understand my feelings."
Eii'taske had left that morning

"What are you thinking of?" The question lolled out into the cooling air. With the coming of night, the breeze off the sea had increased; it blended with the dried blue sky. Clear of any clouds, the sky hung itself in its sapphire raiment, a dry dusty color before it would don its twilight shades. Only a half-moon was visible, a half-saucer of milk.
Eii'taske answered, still gazing at the sea, "An old argument before I went to sea."
'Ayi" Here in the swiftly deepening dusk his captain, the demon Aramaris spread his teeth in that humorous and dangerous way he often did. "Did it end well?"
"Did what?"
"The argument."
"Oh. I wasn't listening." Eii'taske let his breath take in the growing darkness, and the increasing moonlight cloaking the black waters with luminous highlights. "No. It never ended. It was never resolved."
"All the better for you [yo're]." The demon nodded with conviction.
Saying nothing, Eii'taske kept his eyes on the sea. Though he had expected no less from his captain, the indifferent tone brought back quite hotly the jumbled feelings that had been his parting gift from his family. Staring up into the sky, the deepening darkness seemed to echo the sudden sentiment in his heart; a dreary, dark shade but not black. Things weren't hopeless - there was still hope; hope that things had turned out better, hope that his father had grown stronger, hope for his sister's future. But hope and misguided, unspoken words were vastly different things. Having left with words unsaid in his spirit, in the wake of his passage lingered a trail of insubstantial smoke. It was unseen by other eyes and could not harm Eii'taske in anyway; rather it was like the sensation felt by a river that had long dried up, broken into dusty patches by the glaring sun and drought. The passage of the water remained, but nothing remained there - it had been forsaken, a ghost of a memory that could never be reborn. It was regret but even with it, Eii'taske still had hope for even when the sea sunk into shadows, the moonlight always illuminated the dark at least for a little while.

Hence now deleted by the personal choice of the author (i.e. ME = nuriko_kamaiji).

wanted to add something but nothing comes to mind. It's just I don't want to walk all the way back to computer lab once I get back to my room/food center(whateverit'sactuallycalled). Um...Map making is strong, I finally arranged the languages (and herefore the general progression/migrational, for lack of a better word, that they occur). -_-;;
Probably a "professional" update is needed on my "main" lj but bleh! Ah me...
Let's end with: it's amazing how much writing means to me. Or gets me worked up. Just...in general. ^^

to put this under _this_one

You Are Italian Food

Comforting yet overwhelming. People love you, but sometimes you're just too much.

Your Famous Last Words Will Be:

"I dunno, press the button and find out."

It was all wrong. Try as she might the world never stopped turning. Not that she wished for it too, merely for things to feel right. It had been such a long time…it was as if life sucked its self away from her, swirling down a dark, silly path with no purpose. All the plans, points, meaning, what did it matter? Like gray matter weighting on the soul it sucked itself clean, dry as an oyster cut out of its shell. Raw, bland, white, with nothing to hold it.
Grasping a moment only matters if the deed is done. A ship cannot sail without the wind to blow behind it- a goal can’t be reached if there’s no way to move forward, to navigate the rudder. When no wind is blowing it leaves nothing in its wake. It was all right, it really was but…somehow the storm never came and the winds died. The ship had no where to go and simply loitered on the calm sea. No movements were felt, no motion, no current; the world had become flat and empty. Still as glass, the moment became frozen, an entire ocean of ice. It was not cold, merely a reflection of immobile mirror. Time stood silent. Movement became impossible.
But that was just ridiculous, for no life could stop moving- it was all a choice. And this ship was choosing to remain on the windless current, unmoving. Like grasping its fingernails into soft clouds there was nothing there, merely a mist that sprayed. It was sweet, cleansing but left nothing behind; it was like wishing to grasp iron and steel, a material one could dig hand and nails into. Instead there was only grey mist. Like trying to ride a rainbow when you had no where to steer…going nowhere, but because the ship was merely worthless.
But it wasn’t, it was more than that. Striving, it wanted to strive, wanted to sail, wanted to explore but it kept dying, docking on invisible pools of calm pockets. Unmoving, no motion, utter stillness…over and over. How does a ship sail when there’s nothing to grasp and no way to move? Just hold on, just ignore the pain inside, just keep moving. Cut it up, pretend the ship is built of steel- there is nothing it cannot cut. It will clean the way, cut it free so it doesn’t have to move. But then why does it feel so lonely? What is the point of having a place of steel if it’s not moving because its wishes to? The ship just falls down a stream and can’t get up but it’s only the ship’s bad navigation. All the others on the other sailing ships will say the same, laughing, yelling, advising with nothing but words. But words can’t carry. But no other ship can save this little ship. The ship certainly won’t drown but it doesn’t seem to be able to move…
Should the ship care? Should the ship move? Which current is better? Certainly there is more to strive for, more to explore- there is adventure and love and life. Its there beyond the horizon. Isn’t it?

Writing Style Meme

1)Do I have a distinct style of writing?
2) If so, what exactly is it that defines my "style"?
3) Would you say my stories usually follow a 'theme'?
4) Is there anything I really need to improve or change?
5) Does my style (if I have one) remind you of anyone else?
6) Judging from whatever writing of mine that you've seen, what do you think is/are my strength(s)?
7) What do you think is/are my weakness(es)?
8) What would you rate my writing overall on a scale of 1-10?

I suppose I should put something up so to see if it's working...