Week Report #1

I wanted to start a new entry but got caught up reading Sally's blog Alicious, instead. Now I am back into a world of my own and can't remember why I opened this window in the first place. It was important enough to open this window, so now, what to write. I will just make a report on things I have seen or need to tell about, just as entertainment and perhaps insight for you.

"Giselle wanted to turn her CD player on while typing this entry, but her CD player suddenly failed on her and she got occupied and distracted by fixing it, which she, of course, did."

Now playing: The Man Upstairs - Voltaire

Item #1: A Plague Rat's Fairytail by Florian Black
Exactly last week I got this book from my dear friend Flo in the mail, wrapped in bubblewrap. I had bought it to not only support him but also to proudly own something he had worked over and felt proud about. So, I went to sit behind my desk and computer, turned on the Asylum Chat and sat there reading the little book. After a few pages I already couldn't put it down anymore, so I finished it in a little over an hour, sucking up every letter, every word and when it was done I wanted to cry because this was my Asylum. He had penned down what the Asylum is, what we have and what I am so afraid to lose. It is the only place I have come across where I can be myself without compromising any aspect of myself, though people might just get annoying by me and rather see me as something different. I don't want to leave the Asylum for any money in the world because it is my sanctuary too, not only do I love the people there but I am also willing to share it with others because I know how important this place can be for others. It is not solely about Emilie Autumn, if it was I wouldn't have stayed for more than three year. It is a community of people who reach out for each other, who care about each other and understand the world in a different way, a way most people do not or want to forget. Flo uses characters from the real Asylum, however, it is not like some people fear, a book written for the elite of the chat and forum who know everyone mentioned in the book. No, it is far from that, it might have my best friends appearing in the story and I might know them well enough to see them doing the things Flo describes, it just makes it so much more real to me but it doesn't mean you can't read it if you don't know the people. Honestly? Have you ever met the vampire Lestat and yet read the book Interview with the Vampire and got caught up in the story, you didn't have to know them personally to have your imagination do the work. This book is the most true, most welcomming and honest report about The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls (and boys) aka The Asylum forum

Captain Scarlet and her Pyrate Crew
Don't tell me it's a corny or cheesy name for a story. Just imagine it being a comic with as protagonist a fiery red-head with a big heart and a big attitude. After reading Flo's book I got inspired and decided to pull my shit together and  try to write something bigger than my two minute poems. A story about a girl who grown up to become a notorious captain and later a fearsome pyrate captain of the skies, trying to tear down the system that destroyed the planet she lived on. Here is a one paragraph except.

Scarlet was a clever girl who spend a lot of time reading and practising her fourtune, a instrument with four strings that looked like a violin with only the frame left and tubes in the middle to produce the sound instead of a hollow body. She was also quite the adventurer and explored not only the streets of the wealthy and respected neighbourhood she lived in, with houses build into the cliff overlooking the other side like hers but also those on top of the cliff with covered in greenery and painted in bright colours as to imitate the flowers growing from the majestic trees more land inwards. At times, when her parents were both out for a few hours at the time she would sneak out of the house and take the ferry to the other side of the gorge to get drowned in the everyday life of the common folk living on the other side. The best part of those few hours was the ferry ride that would fly over the gorge with gorgegulls flying overhead and under the ferry. Scarlet would look out over the railing to all the little houses cramped together against the cliff-side with wooden walkways in between and stairs curling up and twisting their ways up and down between and over houses like snakes. The people were trying to move around these paths as ants through their tunnels. When she got out at the other side she would walk around the streets, up and down different stairs and watched the market and its lively atmosphere from overhead standing on one of the wooden bridges that connected some of the houses. When it was time to go home she would take the ferry back and run out of the ferry station back home so her parents would never know she had gone out of the house and neglected her studies of language, astronomy and other things. 

I am sitting here, bloomers on my ass and a Oxford sweater covering my boobs, my stomach filled with mozerella buns and ibuprofen. If sleep was sold in bottles I would buy it, wait it comes in bottles. My five hour sleep should just suffice for today and I hope tomorrow night will be better.