REDEBONY'S BOOK BOUTIQUE: March 2011

Wednesday, 30 March 2011

LET THE RIGHT ONE IN !!! I HATE YOU.....I THINK I HATE YOU BACK!!! I ACCEPT MY EGO BOWS OUT

For a while i was convinced that someone's dodgy behaviour was a reflection of a strange attraction. I've met someone like this before and it meant something different. I can be both insecure and egotistical. Nothing says i hate you, like a big giant I HATE YOU!! Oh yeah and actions that show...I HATE YOU.I take a gracious bow privately, and commence giving the genuine, confident, warm (?) or one in particular, the chance to show I LOVE YOU. LET THE RIGHT ONE IN....

MAYBE 'HATE' IS NOT NECESSARILY THE ANSWER?

It's really easy to hate someone. To judge them on sight without actually listening to them, without actually hearing what they had to say. When i was in university i was extremely smitten with this one guy. He had skin as deep as charcoal, and a baritone to his voice like a plunge. I remember waiting anxiously just to hear him speak, it was like food for me. Yet when he came within an inch of me, i acted as if i completely loathed him. I was exceedingly popular at the time, and couldn't get over why this beautiful guy would not speak. My friend and i would watch him fidget with his phone nervously, hoping he would relax, because to be quite shallow, if ever there was a masterpiece i thought it was him. Some couple had got together and produced their own van gough. women like myself and my friend would sit there speculating for two years we called him, 'Mr Quiet.' There were nicknames for most of the guys we liked. We'd make effort to interact with him, but no go, he was tooooo shy, and a lot of girls 'myself especially' became aggressively frustrated by it. The assumption was now that 'his arse was rude.' I'd always wondered what it was like to be that shy, it felt alien to me. I was captain popularity like i'd always been, constantly speaking my mind, tooting about something. I wasn't champagne parade pretty, but when i spoke people looked at me like 'jesus christ this bitch could be president.' I've always hung out with older guys, or older people, the universe just navigates it that way.

Anyway fast forward past a lot of 'theatrics, pain, and drama' my shyness became seen as rude. People questioned why i'd disappear, or angle as far away from them as possible, i don't appear as a shy person. My older brother used to call me a big mouth, if there was ever a person that would rant, and rave, it was a guaranteed me. So i thought it's interesting the different reactions to the preconceptions of my shyness. One guy actually thought i was rude, that i wasn't making eye contact and walking so fast, the other guy said something i never forgot. He was raising some money for his cause, and there was definitely an attraction, there was an attraction to both of them. Despite the first guy acting like i was the devil at first. Anyway guy number two, i could tell he was really confident. He smiled a lot, and did something i find heartbreakingly hillarious. I have many barriers, for someone to even do something as hug, i dodge nervously, they feel uncomfortable, and let it be. He grabbed my arm, i couldn't believe it. He grabbed my arm. The assumption is i'm rude, feisty, glorious stereotypes, he grabbed my arm and said "You look like someone that's always running, relax, why you always running. You've got the shoes on, the build, don't run from me." I stood there stupified. From being calm, i was panicking. Then he got right in my face, my friend used to challenge me on this all the time. He'd say "Why'd you do that, not let anybody get close to you like that, it's not cool." Especially as the guys that liked me were basketball players, or athletes in some way. I liked the intellectual type, with a mix of the athletic, creative, and intelligent. I'm like a know it all by cv, not by personal trade. I just feel like shyness is misunderstood, and i never used to think that before. Anyway guy number two took me by the hand, sat me down, sat next to me, played me some music, and talked with me. We had lunch during his lunch break, i was impressed. I appear very domineering so taking charge like that, (whistle, whistle) and then he hugged me. I felt like frankenstein hugging a human being. It's years since i've ever let anybody get that close, after numerous rejections i thought hate and isolation were the answer. Now i get it. In my fear i misunderstand a lot of things, people, their intentions, but suddenly i smile and the whole world floods in. It feels less scary, i feel less about the violins, more about the questions and answers.

I LOOOOOOOOOOOVE ME TODAY

I LOOOOOOVE ME TODAY
I LOVE ME FOREVER
NO MATTER THE WEEK
NO MATTER THE WEATHER
IM FREE FROM THE POISON
FREE FROM THE HATE
WAIT.....
I FUCKING LOVE ME MAN!!!

CHIN CHIN, ALL THE HATERS AND NEGATIVE PEOPLE,
HERE'S A SMILE FOR YOUR POCKET
THOSE WHO WIN BATTLES,
BUT LOOSE WARS,
IVE SEEN YOUR REFLECTIONS B4
WAIT.....
I AM FREE....
I FUCKING LOVE ME MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHN!!!!!!!!

RED

THERE ARE PEOPLE IN LIFE WHO ACT BADLY BUT EXPECT THE BEST RESPONSE, PEOPLE WHO WANT RESPECT BUT CAN'T GIVE IT.....THEY WAIT FOR YOU TO BE FRAGILE AS GLASS, THEN WHEN YOUR VULNERABLE THEY TEAR YOU TO PIECES......
TEAR YOU TO SHREDS,
LOVE YOU TO PIECES

Friday, 25 March 2011

BUILDING UP STRUCTURES (MR LONELY)

"I need you to be broken, so you can love me." It's such a weird statement. My sister just showed me this film, Mr lonely, it really moved me.The main character a Michael Jackson impersonator moved to this Euthopia full of other impersonators. It's about how he settled into that community, and learned the importance of being himself. There are many strands to this film, but this is key for me, there was a character who kept hurting the woman he was with just so she could need him. People like this are questionable, and sap the life out of others. When she'd lost all semblance of confidence and esteem because she couldn't exist for him, rather than for herself, she committed suicide and he was distraught. I once met someone who showed an initial interest in me, but i acted too confident despite my vulnerabilities. Panic attacks, emotional vulnerable moments, despite liking me, the more intelligent i showed myself to be the more he would dramatically alienate me, insult me, ridicule me. Then when my confidence was at an all time low, he would stand behind me touching the small of my back and my shoulders, i went stiff, because for one this is someone that was supposed to absolutely loathe me, and for two i didn't want to be tricked. He had moments of shocking warmth, and when i assumed comfort, he returned to the almost demonic spoilt brat i'd predicted he might have been. All i knew was that the weaker i felt, scared, paranoid, insecure, threatened, the nicer he was, and the closer he'd get. When i felt strong, he challenged everything. I guess there's a sinister side to everything. Women are identified as the needy ones, yet there is a dark side to being needed, not just as women, as human beings. The dark side is being needed no matter the cost. Manipulating, bullying, extracting the love out of someone. You will always be needed if you have something necessary to give.There are people who tear you to shreds, just to build you back up again for their own self glorification, maybe that's not such a good idea. It's just like saying "I need you to be broken, so you can love me." I am inadequate, I am scared.

Thursday, 24 March 2011

THE OTHER SIDE-GOSSIPS

I met someone recently who spent our whole conversation shitting all over everybody's life. I knew things about people who weren't even there to defend themselves, maybe it hurt because i had never recognised this side to that person. I guess i was shielded by my own self glorification and gratitude that there are people out there who think how i think, have similar beliefs that i do, are passionate about the same things i believe in. The world seems kind of plastic sometimes. Maybe this person was feeling vulnerable, or in deep pain, but listening to them prick holes in other people's lives, putting themself on such a glorified pedastal, i felt uncomfortable as if i was a balloon and they would prick a hole through me. It wasn't simply the fact they were putting other people down, they were putting down other people's life styles and the choices they made. A choice can be a scary thing. Sometimes we know our choices will cause Earth quakes or move us out of golden light, what hurts more is someone post-card posing when our vulnerabilities are bare. I sat there thinking, wow, this is a side.

Wednesday, 23 March 2011

Dreams of distinction

I met captain sexy up for a hangout yesterday. You know your starting to like someone when he says something and you keep thinking, 'oh what a mighty fine mouth you have.' Despite the hand holding, the flirting, and all that body language stuff, i don't think he's into me. He likes me more as someone to hang out with, so there it is. Wow i didn't think i'd care if he wasn't attracted to me but i kind of do...a bit. We joked a lot, flirted a lot, he seems like such a fun guy to be around, and he's got those sexy bambino eyes, but i have to put my brain in friend mode. In relationship mode even the slightest pin prick can sometimes send me into a minimum of 10 over indulgent psycho analytical questions. He said "You're cool" that for me is like a k.O tekken tournament bitch kick by jin kazama himself. Although i realise i have a rotten habbit of being around a guy i like and trying to convince him it's time to leave. Some guys see through it and tease me about it, there are though, guys who become incredibly irate and think im trying to get rid of them. Wow....regarde. In the strangest sense he literally took my breath away, i stared in awe , hypnotised by the strangeness and the beauty of him. It was more than the simplicity of concepts of love. I looked at him and i saw history, i saw futures uncurling into one another,hands linking through time, folding, stretching like dough. Bodies dancing , gyrating,corrupted by the smootheness of his voice. Driven by my own lustful thirst for companionship. Is it the noise of a conversation? As busy cars, panicking with horns blasting, stereo's shrieking in your ear, needle pricks and then a darkness that descends. I like wishful thinking me. I like being taken over, I like the concuction of me versus you, the slim, polite precision, of all our imperfections laid out on a plate, and the scent of you, shea butter, teasing my nostrils appart. I argue with myself often divided by all our different compositions of self, one minute i hate your arctic tone, the strut of your walk, damning, condemning, sentencing me, to love you, in all your simple shapes. It was not a paradise we belonged to, it was a bubble. It was two people with so much distance yet aligned together as cornrows, or braids. Am i your museum? I ask myself, from time to time. Disecting low hung breasts, a body as an hourglass and a mind full of too many questions. I say to him in that easy tone, fix me, without words. We could be bricks and mortar, a poem that hangs neatly in a framework house, i could be the toast to your morning tea, and then i realize, i am your inbetween time. The shade you slip into like a gown at night, the bubble is burst, and i am frustratedly tasting the salt of my own questions.

Tuesday, 22 March 2011

THE GOOD, THE BAD,AND ME? GETTING OVER A CRUSH!!! FRIEND OR FIREMAN

Sunday, 20 March 2011

PURE LUCK!! (WOW REGARDE!)

When my nephew was younger he could speak primarily french. He had this statement he used to make 'wow regarde.' Which basically means, wow...look! Pure Luck is one of those hillarious movies you go off after a few years, watch again, and go 'wow regarde'. I usually watch it after a breakup, a rejection, or something too traumatic to talk about. Starring the comic Martin Short, and Danny Glover, pure luck is sheer brilliance. When the rich Mr Highsmith's daughter, infamous for her bad luck goes missing in mexico, Danny Glover a well respected P.I is put on the case and assigned a sidekick. Martin Short a walking disaster area, said king of calamities joins him on their hillarious adventure to find the missing woman and answer the question....is there such a thing as bad luck? Personally i'm too stubborn minded. I believe we make our own luck in life, carve our own paths. You can drag yourself through it, stumble blindly, or glide with reverence. I'm a stumbler, but i always get there in the end. Watch it, it's absolutely fantastico!

Saturday, 12 March 2011

PPTS SYNDROME...HOW NOT TO HANDLE A CRUSH!!

I realise now, after months of analysing wether my crush was secretly smitten wih me, i'm calling it quits and packing up the stakeout equip. I've flung the towel in, held my hands up, i will not be crucified by a crush. My brain feels like a boiled egg over heated in a microwave, my common sense has completely flatlined. The bitch is back, packing some serious heat!! For a while i thought my crush suffered from (PPTS) Pulling Pigtails Syndrome. It's when your crush (moderately hot), literally terrorises you, rather than simply expressing his feelings. It shouldn't be that hard. This guy was arithmetic to me, one minute he cant bare to be around me, next he's touching my shoulders and the small of my back, flirting! How about that? He's flirting. Someone's on serious acid. Mean em and Keen em, would be fab, if there was all the time in the world. Time ticks on, the arithmetic becomes boring, and the fish in the sea are quite plentiful. Pulling Pig tails Syndrome is like cutting your nose of to spite your face. Ultimately guys who do this, alienate their attraction in such a way, that the communication completely disintegrates. When the guy finally does work up the courage to even attempt to get close to his leading lady, it's like two ships passing in the night. Too late. Even the most basic conversation can have her mind tweaking about which Terrorist scheme he's plotting next. The guy continues to get frustrated because everything's supposed to be hunky dory, he's switched to nice mode. "Sorry mate" sadly for you, she can't quite as easily forget those nasty comments and tabloid behaviour. Seriously did Shakespeare do that? What happened to the sensuos art of seduction, rather than bullying attention out of someone? Any girl with an ounce of pride, self esteem, will tell you to stick your Sean Connery in your Roger Moore... Wether she's embarassing to be seen with or the town spotlight. Ouch...me thinks it's an appallingly bad idea. It's the same rule for women. Doormat's are boring and bullies are kind of bland.

Friday, 11 March 2011

Amanda Hocking best selling writer meets Kanye West moment..Perfect way to handle rejection!!

Sad as it might seem, the whole vampire fiasco is not way over my head. I enjoy the cheese as much as the next emotionally starved romantic. Yep, who would have thought, me, adult in tone and fashion sense, okay not so much fashion, has become one of the zombies. As if Buffy wasn't a treat, there's now Twilight, Vampire diaries, True Blood, jesus it never ends!!
As a writer though, my present joy is Amanda Hockings originally 'self published' vampire novels. Ha! and they said it couldn't be done. Not only are Amanda's Trylle trilogies, making waves over the internet, Amanda Hocking has made a fortune from 'self publishing, and is on her way...to make some more. Instead of being overthrown by rejection after rejection Amanda decided to dig her heels in and have a Kanye West "you can't tell me nothing" moment, and a Mr T " I pity the fool" genius of a career strop. Over 450,000 copies of Amanda's books have been sold as ebooks, plus paperbacks, USA today have listed it as one of the top 50 bestsellers. Whatever Amanda's doing...It worked!! Agents are responding like thoroughbred puppies at a showjump, if the internet was human, he would be high right now. As Amanda capitalizes on the buzz, not only are we looking at another potential movie sequel, by the year end Amanda could be worth millions. Good job! A sublime way to deal with snooty rejections.

Thursday, 10 March 2011

Weeds and Sleeves

The time is nigh. It is literally a sin for you to quit right now. You may not be almost there, or you may be vacationing on an Island right next to it, simply put...You just have to keep going. Persistence as an ideology, a song you crow to your friends when your life hasn't evolved to what it needs to be, or maybe it sounds deep and engaging to that guy, the one who smiles too hard and stands too close. We ask ourselves, can we quit now? We've tried so hard, dealt with an avenue of excuses, now it's time to take a different road. As a writer and a photographer i've learnt it's not easy. In fact it's mucky, frustrating, exhausting, but if you think you can clear out the weeds, roll up our sleeves.

Wednesday, 9 March 2011

Hide and Seek....Danielle Steele Inspired

As a writer there's a greed to commission perfect things. An ambition like insanity. Produce that perfect piece, obsessively sell that product, two finally immaculately manicured fingers at the world. This was making me alienate myself. At one point i thought you could crunch out words like accounting numbers. Zeuslike in my own warped ideals of roboticism. I think i've swallowed my fathers need, and vulnerability to glorify himself. Writing, real writing is like ripping out your heart and folding it on paper. I watched Danielle Steele's autobiography, i've been through so much American idol i was expecting everyone to have a sob story like a Mecca. It's strange that hearing she started off rich, loaded as a shotgun, had me feeling...strangely despondent. Although reading that some of her characters were Danielle Lurking in between the pages, i can chew that. I wanted to hear how she dealt with 'page syndrome', 'writers block' other's call it, what makes her plow through feelings of frustrated inadequacy, instead it leaked about 'quests for love, and broken marriages'. I was listening to one of Anthony Robbins tapes where he discussed writing for the waste paper basket. That really helped with my work. I've written two novels, and like many writers a collective of Jamboree ideas. One completed piece when I was on holiday in Cape Verde. My second novel, is a stubborn piece,i've been writing, editing, combing through for two years now. Sometime's she's as neat as hair brushed tidily for a nervous first day at school, other times she's like vomit on a page, shambolic. Or twins, replicating different yet highly similar versions of herself. The message is always vulnerable, and naked. Repressed emotions, jump out like clowns, and i tap at the screen, wondering where the hell did that come from? I guess that's what happens when we play hide and seek with ourselves. Your writing kindof catches you.