Writing

           I apologize. Again. The new URL is still not available. I'll see if I can change it to something else. This time we'll try:

           nicg-lifesinsanity

           Certainly that won't be taken. Maybe. I'll change it on Friday.

           I just finished reading Inkheart by Cornelia Funke. I really enjoyed it. The POV was not as strong as I usually like it. But I love the world she created and the characters, though I do think the characters would've been stronger if the POV was better, but that's okay. It makes me want to re-read The Never-Ending Story. And Lord of the Rings. One day I will finish that.

           I set a goal for my writing. For once in my life. And now I see why I don't. Why do people torture themselves with deadlines? It's unnatural. I told myself that I need to reach a certain point in my manuscript by the end of June. Uh, I'm kind of close. . . if I write every day from now until then.

           But I'm always getting new ideas. Why can't they all wait until I finish the first idea? Why can't they come to me one at a time and patiently wait for their turn to be written. Must they are bombard me at once, screaming to be written, "Now, now! Now!" It's rather rude. But they are good ideas.

           What's strange is recently I've had ideas from dreams. Usually I wouldn't write off my dreams, because they are unintelligible,scary things. But there was one that was actually really good. Weird. But good for sci-fi. The other one. I had it the other night. I tried to write the notes down for it when my mom insisted on talking to me. I'm grateful for that dream though, because it didn't inspire a new story. Instead it added to one I've had in mind for a while, and my dream, for once, made the story more clear in my mind. I know how to begin in now. And the characters were so real too. I can't wait to start it.

           But I still have Oddball to finish.

Getting By

           Recently while driving when I come up to an intersection, the light will turn yellow just as I'm about to go through. So if I slam on my brakes I'll still end up half way in the intersection. So I keep going and have that tense feeling of, "am I going to make it?" Just as I pass under the light it turns red.


                                                                              

source

           In life it feels like that too often. Like I'm getting by one day at a time. And most of the time I just barely make it. And the only reason I have any strength for it that one day is because God gives it to me and He helps me make it through.

           Here's Carry Me by Josh Wilson.

        

A poem

           I apologize that I didn't get back to you about changing the URL sooner. Obviously the URL hasn't changed yet. Saturday became a bigger day than I had expected. But I couldn't change it to want I had said earlier anyways, so next we will try to change it to:

     theinsanityoflife.blogspot.com

           Again I'm sorry about that. :P|

           The other day I posted a poem on my writing blog. I thought I'd share it here too.



thunder rumbles overhead
the sky is dark and meandering
it's melancholy, like me

i'm waiting

oh, please don't shudder
over other lands
darken the sky
let it weigh heavy

i'm waiting

for the rain to come pouring down
to satisfy the thirsty ground
to drench me deep from head to toe
breath life into this weary air

oh, please don't shudder
over other lands

because we will wait until you rain

URL Changes

           Saturday I plan to change the URL. So if you use it to read this than here's what it will change to:

           lifesinsanity.blogspot.com

           If it doesn't work, I'll postpone the change date and let you know what it will end up as.

           Thank  you so much for reading. :)

Wacky Texts and time travel

           I've been busy again. :P And my computer is crazy. The other day I text my friend when I was on break at work. I haven't seen her since she got married- I'm not even sure how many years ago. Grief. Sadness. *sniffles* We were so bored.

Source

Her: The time passes way too fast.

           me: Way to fast. Next year I going to be 22!

          Her: I'm 24 next month. O. o
         
          me: What are we going to do?

           Her: I haven't decided yet and I'm pretty sure Neverland is not an option.

           me: Maybe a time machine?

           Her: That's a good idea. Now we just have to find one.

          me: Or we could build one. I'll build one half in my backyard, you build the other in yours

         Her: I don't have a backyard but I do have a patio. Sounds like a plan.

         me: We'll smuggle it to. . . London. We can sightsee London before we leave.

         Her: I like it! Where do we go after that?

         me: Hm, I'm not sure. I'll think about it while I work.


         So yes, I'm building a time machine. Or half of it. At least. . . once we find some plans for building one. We're looking into one like this:

                                                                               source
          
           But that's difficult to find. We'll see. :)






          

Tired

           Loving people hurts. Even if they don't know you're loving them and praying for them. Even if they could care less. It's just something God puts in your heart. And you hurt for them. Even when they don't realize their hurting, or when they won't admit their hurting. Or when you know they are hurting but it's not what they think it is. It's really because they don't have God to give them peace, to give them forgiveness, acceptance. To give them hope and rest. And it wears you out. It really does.

Worn by Tenth Avenue North

           There's people all over my work place who I hurt for. And most of the time I have no idea what to say to something of the things they say and do. All I know for certain that I can do is pray, to focus on God in my own life, and pray that God will give me the right words and attitude and not shrink back when He wants me to say or do something.

My Guitar

Forgive me if you find this throughly boring.

This is my guitar, Antony Rogue. Rogue because, well, that's his brand name I suppose.- it's tagged inside him. And Antony, because, I liked it and it seemed to fit him. Am I too old to be naming my guitar?

Uh, yes. But that's okay.


Antony's action was recently lowered. He's much easier on my fingers now. The only down side is when someone else has me play their guitar, it's action is usually higher than what I'm used to. But I press on. :)

I don't really use a pick. Just my thumb. I've tried to use a pick, but I can't strum very well with it. It also sounds different, more metallic, if that makes any sense. I prefer to use my thumb.

Changes and Your Opinion

           As you can see, I've change the blog's appearance. Is it easy to read? Is the font a better size? I noticed that it used to be kind of smallish. Is the electric green too much for your eyes? Do you like it?

           I'm going to change the title soon also. Life's Insanity. And probably my username to Nic G. Unless I think of something better. Just letting you know. So you don't freak out next time you see it. I'll probably change the URL too. But not yet. I'll let you know when and what it will be in case you use the URL.

          Thank you. Anyone out there reading. You are awesome!

          

Back again

Hi, I'm back. I'm sorry I've been gone so long. It's been really busy.

           I just started summer classes, well, one actually. American sign language. It's fun, a little hard. I'm not sure the teacher likes me much. I don't have the book yet, but the bookstore didn't have the book yet, and I've had bad experience with buying my book before going to class and talking to my professor about. That and I sit near the back, and she thinks the people in the back are the slackers, while the people up front are the straight A students. Cliches. Stereotypes. I always sit at or near the back, yet I have 4.0 GPA. And I've known a few disruptive students to sit at the front. Oh, well. I'm just trying to work extra hard to break that label she's given me.

           Work has been. . . interesting. Last week they barely scheduled me at all. This week I have 23 hours. Yay! But yesterday and today I worked from 4-8p? Four hours, really? At least give me five. But compared to the total of 14 hours from last week, I'm not going complain much. It's just slow sometimes. When there's no customers and you do every chore you can think to do. And there's still no customers. What do you do then? Boredom is the hardest thing to get over on my job.

           I'm still practicing guitar. And my mom has found the camera! It was in one of her bags. :P So I will, hopefully, be taking pictures more often for you. Maybe next post.

Here's this song by Steven Curtis Chapman. I love his Speechless album. This is one of his more or less recent songs called Do Everything.