Tag Archives: Writing

trying something new – infatuation

 

Infatuation is a dangerous game,

 

an emotional Russian roulette;

 

a dizzying,

 

crazy,

 

feeling

 

– emotion?

 

It’s walking on a tightrope,

 

the knots rough under your bare feet;

 

the air heavy.

 

Perfect balance is a must

 

or else

 

you’ll plummet to more disastrous

 

and complicated

 

emotions.

 

Essay2: The Internet is dangerous tool.

Have you ever posted something you are interesting in or want to share your opinion to others through using the social internet service? There are so many ways to send out information to the social through using the social internet services such as the blog, the website, or/and app(Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, or YouTube). It is clever to use the social internet services to get information, however if you use those wrong way, you are going to be in trouble either as one of the readers or the information senders.

There is an example that is from the one of the famous YouTuber from US, is called Logan Paul. He is the person who shares his own experience videos on the social internet service, YouTube to his audiences. He used this service wrong way at once so he got reported and he disappear from the internet for a while because there were so many audiences who were disagree and mad at same time with his wrong decision to post the inappropriate video to share his experience in Japan.

 (Logan Paul, World News, 2018)

According to World News, he filmed and decided to post the video that is shown a dead person who committed suicide in the forest of Fuji mountain. He also made fun of the dead person in his film. Moreover, his behaviour in Japan made Japanese people really angry such as

  • Stick your upper body out the window of a moving car and yell, “I’m blonde white boy from Ohio here to cause trouble in your country!”
  • Glorify acting like a Neanderthal at Tokyo’s oldest Buddhist temple.
  • Swing around a raw octopus in the Shibuya scramble crossing, like a dog with stick in its mouth.
  • Enter a popular clothing store and touch the high-end coats with the inky hands, then follow-up by plugging his own merchandise.
  • Nonchalantly leave the raw octopus and fish on the trunk of a moving taxi.
  • Go into the restaurant, point his camera at a hard-working waitress and say, “See? They always smile!” after spending the entire day breaking local laws.
  • Use selecting editing to remove all the scowls he received while validating rowdy American stereotypes in Shibuya.
  • Lie down in the middle of the road.

etc.

After all this happened, he was on news to apologize because of his behaviour in Japan. However, Japan is not going to forgive him and he is not allowed to visit Japan forever, according to “news ZIP!”.(Tomoki,S. Jan 24th, 2018) Also, YouTube cancelled the contract with him as well.(Ariana.B, Jan 10th, 2018)

There are still the pros and cons to argue about his behaviour and the issue but this news proved that how dangerous and risky it is to share the information or own opinions to the social internet services without right decision. I think he though it was the right way to show his style to his audiences otherwise he does not post the video the dead person on. His mistake was that he only focus on the one side of audience who is always happy to see his action and behaviour, he did not think about the another side of audiences’ feeling such as Japanese people mostly. It is totally fine to share your opinion but somehow you have to choose the right words and behaviour if you are posting on the internet because every person has different opinion and different background.

What I learned after these issue that Logan Paul done made me realize that I am the person who is posting to share my opinion and experiences on my blog . And Google analytic shows that who is visiting my blog, so I focused on the another side of audience as well who is not my target for the article. I put more images to explain easily and not to make those audience bored on my page.

Publishing is the subject to think about the audience’s feeling and share the information at same time. I think it is really hard to make all audience happy after they read your article but there are many hints to make the article looks better such as changing design based on the main audience, make the article to read easily, and choose the right words and images to share your opinion and experience. Even the size of font, the gap between word and word make the readers’ feeling for the website change. Publishing is the great course to learn what other people think about my website and how I can develop my website more.

 

Reference:
aceshowbiz.com(2018). World News. YouTube Star Logan Paul Apologizes After Backlash for Posting Video of Suicide Victim Retrieved from http://worldnews.easybranches.com/entertainment/celebrity/youtube-star-logan-paul-apologizes-after-backlash-for-posting-video-of-suicide-victim-566049
Ariana Brockington(Jan 10th, 2018). VARIETY,  YouTube Cuts Logan Paul from Preferred Program Over Controversial Video Retrieved from http://variety.com/2018/digital/latest/youtube-logan-paul-cut-ties-suicide-video-1202660515/
Tomoki Shibasaki(2011). Logan Paul,  ZIP!(Jan 24th, 2018). Tokyo: Japanese Television.

 

a blue heartbreak

Was it possible to break your own heart?

Did heartbreak only occur when a second party was involved? Did it have to be inflicted by a lover? A family member?

Or, could your own thoughts and made-up fantasies cause the same terrible damage?

It was these questions that had puzzled her for days. She laid in bed and felt them float above her head. She could almost see the curve of each individual letter pertaining to the dreadful problems.

They demanded answers. Yet, she was unable to grasp an intellectual answer.

She could only answer with emotion.

But, how could she find the words to explain that she felt her heart drop to her stomach so often, that she wasn’t even sure if her heart was in its proper place anymore? Her chest was left hollow. A deep blue substance of melancholy and dissatisfaction had filled the empty cavity.

She walked through the day in a daze, with the constant feeling of blue.

She wanted to bury herself in it and hideaway.

She wanted to force her heart back together and return it to its rightful home.

But, the blue was always stronger than her pathetic thoughts. She couldn’t conquer the blue. Instead, she remained in bed, staring at the letters belonging to her emotional questions.

The blue nestled deeper into her chest.

the damned – on wattpad

Music pounded throughout the streets, coming from the nightclub. Four teens rushed through these same streets, giggling.

“Guys!” One shrieked, laughing. She pointed towards a dark building covered in graffiti, every window boarded up. “Let’s go exploring.”

The boys whopped in agreement, but one teen disagreed, falling behind. “I don’t know guys, it’s creepy in there. I don’t want to get caught.”

“Come on Jenny,” one boy nudged her shoulder with a bottle. “Have another drink, it’ll give you courage.”

She took the bottle, taking a long swig, squinting her eyes from the burn of the alcohol. “No seriously, Haley that’s dangerous if we get caught in there…”

“We won’t!” Haley laughed, drinking a darker liquid. “Derek, give her some more, she needs to start having fun!”

Jenny rolled her eyes, gazing at the other boy. He had his arms draped around Haley. “Kyle, do you want to go in there?”

Kyle shrugged, his eyes were glossy. “I don’t see why not.”

Derek pulled Jenny towards him, “come on, don’t be a wimp.” Leaning down he began to kiss her neck.

Jenny closed her eyes, sighing. “Okay, fine.”

“Yes!” Haley shouted.

“Let’s hope they have a bed in there, huh?” Derek whispered in Jenny’s ear. Goosebumps rose on her skin, she took another swig from the bottle, it burned less this time.

The group ran to the side of the building, the boys ripped at the thin wood that laid in front of a window, while the girls searched for a rock heavy enough to break the glass. The sound of the glass shattering could hardly be heard over the loud music coming from a few buildings over. One by one they climbed inside.

Hello everyone! Sorry I’ve been so MIA… school really kicked my butt this semester. Lately, I’ve been feeling really unmotivated and frankly, unhappy. I’m just incredibly tired and burnt out. However, I could feel myself growing frustrated with the lack of writing projects collecting virtual dust on my computer. As much as I love the mini pieces I’ve written for this blog, I want to start beginning attention back to the larger pieces I started years ago.

I’ve decided to breathe some life back into my old ‘Wattpad’ account, and I will be posting this old/new project ‘The Damned’ on it. Hopefully, I can discipline myself to update frequently.

The piece you’ve read above is a little preview of the story, and I’d love if you checked out the full version on my Wattpad account linked below! Thanks ?

– Maddi Wilson

Maddi Wilson’s Wattpad accountThe Damned

My Tools of the Trade — Modern Calligraphy

If you’re like me, I’ve always found videos of calligraphy that show up on my Facebook newsfeed really therapeutic and mesmerizing to watch. And so, two years ago, I began to rummage through the internet for online tutorials and printed out masses of practice sheets to begin my newfound hobby.

I started from my local craft store, Michaels, and bought several nibs, nib holders, black india ink and a pad of smooth marker paper. From there it was practice, practice, practice until I started developing a preferred style of writing that seemed most natural to me.  Below, you can see a layout of the nibs I have collected over the past two years, along with a few of the pen holders that accompany it.

Nibs + Holders

The Speedball/Hunt nibs were the first few I bought from DeSerre’s: they come in a pack with two holders. The great thing about nibs (or calligraphy in general) is that they are really affordable…but keep in mind that they are also fragile if you don’t store them well. The ones I buy typically range ~$1-2 CAD each. My absolute favourite nibs are the Leonardt 40 (I use this one the most) and the Hunt 99. I find that I tend to steer towards nibs that are more flexible (less stiff) because it helps me write more naturally.

Nikko G and Zebra G are the couple I read lots of blog posts on. I was able to track down a couple of small art stores that carry these nibs in Hong Kong, and being super inexpensive they also came in packs of three in the case that one may accidentally be broken or misplaced. Here’s a quick comparison between the raved on Nikko G and my favourite Leonardt 40.

I don’t believe there’s anything special to talk about about my holders. The one you see on the top with a part that sticks out is the oblique holder. It basically helps you write on an angle that some people may find difficult when writing with a regular holder, but I don’t tend to steer towards it. I find that I grab my Tachikama wooden holder the most as most of my nibs fit in it. For my smaller nibs I use the brown Hunt holder that I purchased with the nibs — again, really affordable.

Ink

Ever since I laid hands on my Finetec Pearl Metallic Inks palette I have never let it go. I absolutely LOVE the iridescent glow that it produces when activated with water. Used typically for watercolour brushes, I use a few drops of water and mix it with a small brush for several seconds, then paint it onto the nib. It’s not the cheapest out there, and I purposely purchased it on my last trip to Hong Kong because it was difficult to find in Vancouver. Nevertheless…absolutely stunning.

I did start off with using black india ink but it’s been getting old and I haven’t thought of replacing it since I always just use the Finetec palette. With the help of Photoshop, I digitize my writing and invert the metallic ink on black paper which gives the look of black ink written on white paper (#lifehacks).

Paper

I started off using your standard white paper, but found that the sharp (fragile) tip of the nibs would repeatedly catch onto the paper and gave a rigid feel to my writing. I purchased a marker pad from Michael’s that really helps with that problem. The paper is really soft and light, which helps with write smooth, continuous lines so I definitely recommend it for practicing. Typically, I like to use just any card stock I can get my hands on. My mom really enjoys making cards and she has collected a TON of coloured card stock paper, so I usually just take some to use and it’s great for calligraphy too.

 

…And voilà!

Calligraphy really does take time and practice. At one point when I started, there were times when I did feel discouraged because I wasn’t satisfied with it! In the beginning, I had really wonky, awkward strokes and it really didn’t feel right to me. Those are also the times you need to push through and give yourself even more reason to keep working on it because it takes time so remember to be patient with yourself. Once you start to feel progressively more comfortable, you’ll start to develop your own writing style. I still do feel incompetent sometimes and I really do like keeping calligraphy as a hobby because I know I definitely still have room for improvement! Hope this helps.

-E

blank

She stared at her phone, eyes tracing over the letters that spelt out his name.

There was a war going on inside her head – should she call him? Should she even bother anymore?

The fight between the couple had taken place a few days prior, and now she laid in her bed, her heart heavy.

They had barely communicated since the argument, and it was beginning to take a toll on the girl.

She hated the entire situation.

More so, she hated how the situation made her feel.

Since when had she become so dependent on another individual?

She had always forced herself to see the downfall of every relationship – that way when they ultimately ended, her heart wouldn’t hurt so much. Yet, here she was, completely infatuated with a boy who refused to open up to anyone.

The most recent text messages between the couple glared at the girl. She couldn’t bring herself to contact him in any sort of way. She didn’t want to bother him.

So instead, she tortured herself by rereading the same stupid argument, in hopes that he would contact her first.

Her chest swelled from anxiety, she couldn’t stand conflicts.

The girl’s over controlling nature was fighting its way out – telling her to text him, to pour her heart out and cause a scene. But her rational side was telling her otherwise. She had already said what she needed too, it was up to him now.

She tossed her phone onto the empty side of her bed. She couldn’t look at that stupid conversation anymore, nor could she bring herself to delete the messages.

Her emotions were a complete mess. Caught between being angry, upset, and disappointed, she couldn’t focus on anything other than the lump in her throat, and the pain in her head from lack of sleep.

She sighed.

Was he as bothered as her about the situation? Could he sleep, or was he tossing and turning as she had been every night since the argument?

The questions burned into her brain, repeating over and over. But, she wouldn’t dare ask him.

Perhaps she should just let the situation be, and allow the relationship to fizzle out. After all, what was the point in blowing on an already dying fire?

Her thoughts were then interrupted by the obnoxious ding of her phone. She rolled over in bed, towards where the discarded technology was.

The screen lit up a second time, signifying there was, in fact, a message waiting for her.

Yet, the contact name was not from the individual she was hoping. Instead, it was her mom, telling her to come down for dinner.

The girl sighed for the second time. Maybe she really should let it go…

deadly mistake

He stared at the woman with wide eyes.

Her words repeated like a broken record:

“That door you just kicked down was for your protection, not mine.’

He looked back at the door – it reminded him of a wide monstrous mouth.

The woman laughed softly, rocking back and forth in her cross-legged position. She had a gleam in her eyes he found unsettling.

The man took a step away from the door, only to be knocked on to his back.

A decaying hand wrapped around his ankle.

He screamed.

The woman laughed.

His finger nails ripped and cracked as he tried to claw his way out of the room. Yet, there was no use. The hand dragged him into the awaiting door, a trail of blood following behind.

The door slammed closed, drowning out his screams.

The woman was quick to rise from her spot on the floor.

She picked up a cloth and bucket of water and began to clean the blood from the hardwood.

the door

Bright sunlight streamed through the crack of the open door.

Tentatively, I took a step forward, pushing the door to open wider. A long white hallway stretched forward, it seemed to stretch on forever.

I walked down, my bare feet slapped the cold floor.

The door slammed behind me – hinges screeching.

I walked for what felt like hours, passing by the same white walls, until finally, I came to another door.

It resembled the same one I entered through – blue wood, gold accents, and a decorative knob.

Slowly, I knocked.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And just as expected, the door swung open.

Immediately I bolted up right, gasping for air.

The familiar beeping of the monitor welcoming me home.

“Well done Kate.”

I looked up, meeting eyes with the professor. His green eyes sparkled, his blond hair standing up wildly.

He was impressed. I sighed, thank god.

“Take her back to her room please.” The professor muttered to his assistant. “She’s done well today.”

formula

I bit my lip, my eyes frantically gazing over the equation.

What if I couldn’t figure it out? What if I wasn’t ‘gifted’ like They said I was?

They would be disappointed if I couldn’t do it. No one ever wanted to disappoint them.

Would I get punished?

Would I get put back into the white room?

A chill shook my body. I hated the white room.

Sighed, I ran my hands through my hair, tugging on my scalp. “Just focus. It’s simple, you’re over thinking it.”

I took another look at the equation:

H+2W = L

Was it a code? What was I solving for?

Perhaps if they have given me more information I wouldn’t fail so miserably every time!

I stood up, my frustration getting the better of me. Hot anger pulsed through my body, my hands shook. I saw red, the blood roared in my ears. I was sick of this, of not knowing what was going on.

I was tired of staring at stupid, meaningless numbers and letters.

I swiped the papers and pencils off of the desk, they clattered to the ground, sounding like gun shots in the dead quiet room.

Suddenly, a group of people rushed in.

Men grabbed on to my arms, their grip tight enough to leave bruises as I struggled to break away.

the key

They found the key at the bottom of the well, just like the treasure map showed.

Although, it was not the key they had been envisioning; when first coming across the map, Hunter and his friend’s pictured something old and rustic. They had always imagined a delicate key, with an intricate design – just like in the movies.

This key… was plain.

It had some curves to it, but the design was simple.

“What do we do now?” Holland asked. Her brows were pulled together, her nose scrunched up; it was a typical look she gave when she was confused.

“Does the map say anything else, Hunter?” Jack held the key in his hand, gazing at it intently as if the key would shout out answers to him if he stared hard enough.

“Um,” Hunter pulled the map out of his back pocket, unfolding it and looking carefully. “No, nothing else.”

“Maybe we’re missing a piece of the map?” Holland began to pace.

Jack shook his head, his lips pressed into a flat line. “This is useless, we travelled all this way, left our homes, for a plain key? Where’s all the treasure you promised us, Hunter?”

“Jack calm down,” Holland hissed.

“No!” Jack waved her off. “I was promised treasure that would allow me to help my aunt. A key,” he held it in the air, “is not going to help me pay for her medication. This key is useless! This whole trip is useless!”

In his anger, Jack threw the key. It flew across the yard of the abandoned farmhouse, landing with a clatter on the gravel driveway.

“Jack!” Holland shouted. “We get it, we’re disappointed too, but you don’t have to throw a fit. I mean… Hunter? What are you doing?”

While Holland had been trying to reason with Jack, Hunter had made his way to the discarded key.

He couldn’t believe this was the end of the search.

He wouldn’t believe it.

Hunter crouched down, a grin plastered on his face as he gazed at the now-broken key.

The two rushed over, taking in what was before them.

“Oh my god,” Holland whispered.

They key laid in a small pile of metal.

However, sticking out of the top of the key was a small slip of paper.

Another map.

The search was back on.

buckets and robots

“Beep-de-bop!” A boy shouted, giggling.

“Commander! The robots are taking over! Code red, I repeat, code red!” The second boy yelled, his bucket turning into a special helmet.

The two boys had been playing ‘robot’ for hours. Beginning right after breakfast, past lunch, until now.

The sun was starting to set.

The streetlights beginning to come to life.

The ‘robot’ jumped on the commander’s back, beeping and bopping.

“Ah! There’s too many of them commander, I can’t fight any longer!” the soldier yelled dramatically, falling to the ground.

“Taylor! Henry! It’s time for dinner!” A voice called from a nearby house.

The boys perked up, gazing at their mother who stood on the front porch.

“Coming!” They called in unison.

They darted into the house, tossing their buckets into the front yard.

‘Robots’ would have to wait for another day.

 

orbs and tattoos

It was the middle of the night when I awoke, gasping.

A burning sensation rose along my stomach, stretching from my rib cage down towards my navel.

Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt.

Lifting my oversized shirt, I noticed a faint outline that hadn’t been on my body before.

The outline was darkening by the second, taking on colour.

A brilliant silver.

A deep teal.

Rich red.

Black.

The design that took form was intricate, full of swirls and overlapping lines.

Although seemingly random, it made perfect sense.

Excitement vibrated through my body, as I pulled off the covers with my tattooed hands.

A hum of a breath escaped my lips.

I had to wake the others, we were close to the orb.

We could finally bring it home.

Archetypes: Ruler

Power is not everything, it is the only thing. Taking responsibility not only for his own life, but the lives of others, the Ruler is one of the most recognizable and easily corruptible Jungian archetypes. This is the archetype of power, plain and simple, but what comes with power is a dangerous tightrope walk between order and … Continue reading Archetypes: Ruler