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Chasing the Dream

~ Not all those who wander are lost… Would you like to wander with me?

Chasing the Dream

Monthly Archives: April 2017

Alabaster Warned Me

26 Wednesday Apr 2017

Posted by DakotaCarter in Briefs, Fantasy, Fantasy writing, Writing Excerpts

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Alabaster, Fantasy, Fantasy writing

Alabaster warned me, when he first gave me the book, that the words written in human blood across the pages were cursed. He couldn’t tell me how or why, he just told me that should I ever decide to read the ancient prophecies, I would be putting myself in grave danger.

Alabaster warned me, as he handed me a sealed container, that inside were relics from a long forgotten village. He told me stories about a terrifying war and a devastating end, and that if I ever lost these precious belongings, the town’s memory would be lost, and the villagers blood would stain my hands until my death.

Alabaster warned me, as he tucked into my hand a small, transparent, diamond shaped crystal, that a day would come when I would be forced to leave my tribe, and that on this day I would understand how to use it. He told me to beware its power, and that if I ever tried to use it before that day, great destruction would befall me.

Alabaster warned me of these things as he presented me all these “gifts,” but he never told me how they came into his possession, or why he was giving them to me. Why would my Elder want to tempt my already less than promising destiny?

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Internet Friendships

21 Friday Apr 2017

Posted by DakotaCarter in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Author’s Note: This isn’t a writing piece. This is something I’ve been meaning to tell you guys for a while, but only just got around to. Writing gets pushed to the back burner sometimes when school and work are overbearing. Nonetheless, this is how I feel and what I think about my internet friends. I love all of you dearly, even the ones I don’t talk to anymore…

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Since the time I got my first smartphone at 13, I’ve made, and lost, a lot of internet friends. Sometimes, this virtual friendship is beautiful. It lets you learn about different cultures. It lets you in on different perspectives from a different standpoint. You learn about geographical barriers and tourist traps never to visit. You grow as a person, whether you realize it or not.

Sometimes, this virtual friendship is funny. You learn things about people. Within the first two weeks, you can learn what their biggest fear is, or that they’re allergic to red food coloring, and then five months later you find yourself asking, “Wait, you have a dog? Wait, you have three dogs??”

Sometimes, this virtual friendship is helpful. When stuck in a bad situation, you turn to these friends across the world to guide you through the day, to help you put one foot in front of the other, to help you breathe when you feel like you’ve run out of air. Other times, you learn random facts that you’ll probably never need to know ever, but three years down the road you’ll still be able to recall who taught you that random tidbit.

But sometimes, this virtual friendship is ugly. It’s heartbreaking. Sometimes, it’s getting texts in the middle of the night that say, “I don’t want to be alive anymore.” Sometimes, it’s receiving pictures of bruises with the caption, “Dad came home drunk again…” Sometimes, it’s sharing an exhausted phone call with someone you only started talking to a month ago, because neither of you wants to be alone, and nobody else would understand your silence. It’s feeling the need to hug them, to hurt the ones causing them pain, to help them with daily tasks when they’re incapable of doing it themselves, but being unable to because of the geographical barriers you so often discussed.

Today, I am unable to help three dear friends because I can’t drop everything and drive across the country to come to their aid. As much as I want to, as much as they need me to, I can’t. It’s not feasible.

Internet friendships, nonetheless, are invaluable. You gain and share not only knowledge, jokes and laughter, but also pain and torment. You share everything they feel, and they share everything you feel. There’s no obligation to stick around if you don’t want to, so you know that if someone has stayed by your side this long, they intend on staying a lot longer.

I send an apology to the friends I am unable to help. Know that I am with you in spirit, that not a day goes by when I don’t see something that reminds me of you. Know that, as often as I can, I am available for your 3 am existential crisis, or your 5 pm silent phone call.  I am here.

For lack of better phrasing, I leave you with a quote from the movie First Knight.

“I take the good with the bad, together. I can’t love people in slices.”

All The King’s Horses (Behind The Scenes)

01 Saturday Apr 2017

Posted by DakotaCarter in Briefs, Personal, Poems, Writing Excerpts

≈ 1 Comment

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Xylia

Author’s Note: I’m putting this here so I won’t lose it because, let’s face it, if I leave it anywhere else it’s going to end up at the bottom of some document I never open, and I need to be able to reference it often. You’re not going to/supposed to understand this, but if I ever get this book done, you will 😉 Nonetheless, enjoy my shit poetry! 

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Makeup to cover the bruises

Smiles to hide the pain

Oh what a girl wouldn’t do

To just be whole again.

Maybe it was fate

Or just a long, cruel joke

But time would soon tell her

The truth in the words he spoke.

She was not worth the light or day

She was not worth his time

She was not worth his energy

Her existence was her crime.

From the day she knew these things

Her heart began to break

What had she done to incur his wrath

And just what was at stake?

He was a man of power

In her life, so powerless

He was her only future

Nothing else to yearn or miss.

Poor little girl, he often said

You pathetic whining bitch

I’ll cut your throat, dance in your blood

You ungrateful little witch.

She changed her name to suit her mood

“A girl can change her stars”

Brayden, Abigale, Xylia,

But her body still bore the scars.

And so she took off in the night

To find herself alone

And with her dying breath she found

A new place to call home.

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Recent Posts

  • Unmarked Path
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Musesation on Naiveté 
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