Post by Brokenhearts on Sept 4, 2006 17:10:16 GMT -5
OMG!!!! I NEED THIS!!!!! ppl need 2 give me ideas of how 2 carry them on tho… anyway- here tis ;D
Dreams
Prologue
Writers are different to everyone else.
Well known fact amoungst society.
As youngesters, they are dreamers. They don’t have a proper attatchement on life or so called ‘reality’. They live on and for dreams.
Some are cast out of socitety, refusing to conform to how everyone wishes them to be.
All writers are dreamers.
They can be a novelist, a poet, a song writer. They can specialise in true to life stories, total fantasties, surrealist dream like work (Louis Carrol for instance, ‘Alice in Wonderland’ has to be one of the greatest, and most obvious, peices of readable surrealist artwork). Anything! They are all dreamers. The worlds they write about are how they see the world, or a world they wish to be in. The charecters are based on how they wish to be. On the people around them. Even the so-called bad guy.
It is the one thing all writers share. The fact that they are dreamers, the fact that they do not have a true grip on reality.
It’s what makes them good at what they do. It’s what sets them appart.
But sometimes… sometimes their dreams and imagination becomes too strong. Becomes too real. Their dreams become true magic, and their worlds become real.
There is one place- connected with our own world- that most of this… magic, if you like goes to. Though through the power of imagination other worlds have been created, in the true meaning of stories, they have all steamed from this one magical mystical world.
The world is the original fantasy world. Where the first writers dreams came from. Where the first dreamers dreams went to and crated it. It’s been there for so long, it is solid. Everything is real. And no long dream like… it is a real world where people can go… if they can just believe in the unbelieveable.
The power from this place is what keeps the writers going. It makes sure that dreamers can keep dreaming, and keep this world still intouch with what most adults believe to be complete fairy tale. Complete rubbish.
This ‘fantasy’ world if you will, effects children the most to be honest. It stays with them until they hit puberty. But then… it seems to teenagers, most anyway, that it is ‘un-cool’ to believe in fairies and mermaids and dragons. ‘Un-cool’ to live in a world where anything can happen. ‘Un-cool’ to drift off when ever they like, to a world where they can make things happen.
The few that do stay with the fantasy never loose it. It’s with them for life. These people usually become writers. If they do not, they are known as excentrics.
Taimat Pulvasha Kamal grew up with her head in the clouds. She always talked about seeing dragons in the air, fairies in the garden, mermaids in the sea, pixies in the house. When she was maybe three, she pointed at the sjy, and asked what a creature in the sky was. She was living in the mounatins of Pakistan at the time, and it was one of the servants children, Gul, that asked her what it looked like- she couldn’t see anything. Taimat Pulvasha Kamal described it as a lizard type thing. That moved like a dancer, like they were having fun in the air. They had huge wings. One had feathery wings and the other had large bat like wings. She had seen bats many times.
“Tiamat,” smiled Gul, “you’re dreaming, those things can’t exist.” They spoke the native tongue of the moutains. They were pataans, and they spoke pushto.
“Yes they do!” she protested, “I can see them! They’re dancing… they’re having fun…”
“But they can’t,” insisted the older girl, hugging Tiamat Pulvasha Kamal, “what you see are dragons. They’re myths.”
The small girl looked up at her. “Myths…” she questioned.
Gul picked her up, laughing. “Tiamat,” she said tapping her nose, “you have a crazy imagination.” She carried her in doors. “Come, I’ll read you a myth.”
Taimat Pulvasha Kamal looked over Gul’s shoulder, and reached out a cubby little arm towards the whirling creatures. Her eyes bright and sparkling.
“Dragons are real,” she whispered, only to herself, no else heard her.
It was that one sentance that kept her going through her shole life. She had seen dragons in the sky when she was three, and ever since she had promised her self that she would see them again.
Her family move to Islamabad, the capital, when she was five, when she started school. When she was ten, then moved to england.
The year after that, her father was killed in a car accident, and her mother was left brain damaged.
Taimat Pulvasha Kamal was moved to live with her uncle and aunt who lived in the same area as her parents. Her mother was looked after by them, and quite happily by her only daughter.
Taimat Pulvasha stayed a happy person. Remembering her father wasn’t painful for her, she remembered him every day, and often felt him watching over her. She was sad about her mother, but her mother just could not speak, or comunicate like other people, there was still understanding and comunication there.
Her dreams really started to take flight, a little while after she had turned sixteen.
“Tia!” called her older brother, Sheer, “get down here, NOW!”
He was eightteen and treated her like she was ten years younger, rather than two. Her brother that was ten years older, treated her like she was an adult. She missed Ali, her oldest brother. There were four of them, she was the only girl and the youngest.
“NO!” she yelled back, angrily, “I refuse to go to this… wedding!”
“It’s not your’s!”
“I don’t care! I don’t like the man, and I don’t think Shayda api should be marrying him- he’s a bastard!”
Sheer sighed. His sister was as stubborn as a mule, and kicked twice as hard. It hadn’t helped that they had moved to England either. Where is parents were from, the girl had to be escorted everywhere, here, they could go where they wanted. Alone.
Lucky for Tiamat, her uncle and aunt were very leaniant on her. She took advantage of it, and got out of the house when ever she liked. But she was not going to go out of the house for her cousins marriage- because she did not think that the man she was marrying was right for her.
“Tia,” he complained, coming up the stairs, “you have to come. Shayda would want you there.”
“And I don’t want her to marry him, we don’t always get what we want.”
She had locked her bedroom door, and was refusing to come out. She had been dressed up, make upped, hair done up. But she would no go no matter what.
Sometimes stubborn didn’t even begin to describe her free willed spirit. Or how out spoken she was towards everyone.
“Ok, fine,” he snapped angrily at her door once reaching, “don’t come. Shayda won’t like it.”
He walked away, stamping his feet like a spoilt child not getting his way.
Tai mat growled in her throat, and kicked her door, angrily. “Well tough shit to her,” she muttered.
Shayda and Tairmur’s marriage was a love marriage. But organised like an arranged one. She hated the man, she thought he wasn’t good enough for Shayda api. She called Shayda api out of respect, api ment big sister- and that was what Shayda was to her in more ways than either of them really knew or could comprehend.
Taimat called her friend, Lena, and asked her if she could come over. She just had to get out of the house.
“I thought you were going to Shayda api’s wedding?” Lena said, sounding confused in her mildly Greek accent. She had gotten into the habit of calling Shayda, api too. In fact the whole group that Tiamat hung out with called her that. They even called her oldest brother bhai and her second oldest lala for good measure. But they didn’t really respect Sheer that much, so he was just the annoying boy who just happened to live with Tiamat.
But to Bridget and Jaimie- he was hot- apparently.
“Well I said I wasn’t going to go- so I won’t.”
Lena sighed, and Tiamat could almost see her shaking her head. “You’re stubborn.”
“I believe that has been established.”
“Where’s your mum?”
“She went to the wedding- Shayda api refused to let her stay behind with some carer. You know what she’s like.”
Lena laughed. “Babe, I know more than you think. I kinda wanted say hi to her to be honest. I haven’t seen her for ages.”
“She’s been asking after you actually,” mused Tiamat, “anyway, you gotta get your butt her now, before I do something stupid like go into camden and go down to the cannal.”
“Honey, you live in Camden.”
“That’s not the point.”
Lena laughed. “Be there before you can say supercallifragalisticespiallidocious.”
“I can’t say that,” Tiamat protested.
“That’s the point. Bye babes!”
“See ya.”
She hung up, and started to get changed, sighing deeply.
Dreams
Prologue
Writers are different to everyone else.
Well known fact amoungst society.
As youngesters, they are dreamers. They don’t have a proper attatchement on life or so called ‘reality’. They live on and for dreams.
Some are cast out of socitety, refusing to conform to how everyone wishes them to be.
All writers are dreamers.
They can be a novelist, a poet, a song writer. They can specialise in true to life stories, total fantasties, surrealist dream like work (Louis Carrol for instance, ‘Alice in Wonderland’ has to be one of the greatest, and most obvious, peices of readable surrealist artwork). Anything! They are all dreamers. The worlds they write about are how they see the world, or a world they wish to be in. The charecters are based on how they wish to be. On the people around them. Even the so-called bad guy.
It is the one thing all writers share. The fact that they are dreamers, the fact that they do not have a true grip on reality.
It’s what makes them good at what they do. It’s what sets them appart.
But sometimes… sometimes their dreams and imagination becomes too strong. Becomes too real. Their dreams become true magic, and their worlds become real.
There is one place- connected with our own world- that most of this… magic, if you like goes to. Though through the power of imagination other worlds have been created, in the true meaning of stories, they have all steamed from this one magical mystical world.
The world is the original fantasy world. Where the first writers dreams came from. Where the first dreamers dreams went to and crated it. It’s been there for so long, it is solid. Everything is real. And no long dream like… it is a real world where people can go… if they can just believe in the unbelieveable.
The power from this place is what keeps the writers going. It makes sure that dreamers can keep dreaming, and keep this world still intouch with what most adults believe to be complete fairy tale. Complete rubbish.
This ‘fantasy’ world if you will, effects children the most to be honest. It stays with them until they hit puberty. But then… it seems to teenagers, most anyway, that it is ‘un-cool’ to believe in fairies and mermaids and dragons. ‘Un-cool’ to live in a world where anything can happen. ‘Un-cool’ to drift off when ever they like, to a world where they can make things happen.
The few that do stay with the fantasy never loose it. It’s with them for life. These people usually become writers. If they do not, they are known as excentrics.
Taimat Pulvasha Kamal grew up with her head in the clouds. She always talked about seeing dragons in the air, fairies in the garden, mermaids in the sea, pixies in the house. When she was maybe three, she pointed at the sjy, and asked what a creature in the sky was. She was living in the mounatins of Pakistan at the time, and it was one of the servants children, Gul, that asked her what it looked like- she couldn’t see anything. Taimat Pulvasha Kamal described it as a lizard type thing. That moved like a dancer, like they were having fun in the air. They had huge wings. One had feathery wings and the other had large bat like wings. She had seen bats many times.
“Tiamat,” smiled Gul, “you’re dreaming, those things can’t exist.” They spoke the native tongue of the moutains. They were pataans, and they spoke pushto.
“Yes they do!” she protested, “I can see them! They’re dancing… they’re having fun…”
“But they can’t,” insisted the older girl, hugging Tiamat Pulvasha Kamal, “what you see are dragons. They’re myths.”
The small girl looked up at her. “Myths…” she questioned.
Gul picked her up, laughing. “Tiamat,” she said tapping her nose, “you have a crazy imagination.” She carried her in doors. “Come, I’ll read you a myth.”
Taimat Pulvasha Kamal looked over Gul’s shoulder, and reached out a cubby little arm towards the whirling creatures. Her eyes bright and sparkling.
“Dragons are real,” she whispered, only to herself, no else heard her.
It was that one sentance that kept her going through her shole life. She had seen dragons in the sky when she was three, and ever since she had promised her self that she would see them again.
Her family move to Islamabad, the capital, when she was five, when she started school. When she was ten, then moved to england.
The year after that, her father was killed in a car accident, and her mother was left brain damaged.
Taimat Pulvasha Kamal was moved to live with her uncle and aunt who lived in the same area as her parents. Her mother was looked after by them, and quite happily by her only daughter.
Taimat Pulvasha stayed a happy person. Remembering her father wasn’t painful for her, she remembered him every day, and often felt him watching over her. She was sad about her mother, but her mother just could not speak, or comunicate like other people, there was still understanding and comunication there.
Her dreams really started to take flight, a little while after she had turned sixteen.
“Tia!” called her older brother, Sheer, “get down here, NOW!”
He was eightteen and treated her like she was ten years younger, rather than two. Her brother that was ten years older, treated her like she was an adult. She missed Ali, her oldest brother. There were four of them, she was the only girl and the youngest.
“NO!” she yelled back, angrily, “I refuse to go to this… wedding!”
“It’s not your’s!”
“I don’t care! I don’t like the man, and I don’t think Shayda api should be marrying him- he’s a bastard!”
Sheer sighed. His sister was as stubborn as a mule, and kicked twice as hard. It hadn’t helped that they had moved to England either. Where is parents were from, the girl had to be escorted everywhere, here, they could go where they wanted. Alone.
Lucky for Tiamat, her uncle and aunt were very leaniant on her. She took advantage of it, and got out of the house when ever she liked. But she was not going to go out of the house for her cousins marriage- because she did not think that the man she was marrying was right for her.
“Tia,” he complained, coming up the stairs, “you have to come. Shayda would want you there.”
“And I don’t want her to marry him, we don’t always get what we want.”
She had locked her bedroom door, and was refusing to come out. She had been dressed up, make upped, hair done up. But she would no go no matter what.
Sometimes stubborn didn’t even begin to describe her free willed spirit. Or how out spoken she was towards everyone.
“Ok, fine,” he snapped angrily at her door once reaching, “don’t come. Shayda won’t like it.”
He walked away, stamping his feet like a spoilt child not getting his way.
Tai mat growled in her throat, and kicked her door, angrily. “Well tough shit to her,” she muttered.
Shayda and Tairmur’s marriage was a love marriage. But organised like an arranged one. She hated the man, she thought he wasn’t good enough for Shayda api. She called Shayda api out of respect, api ment big sister- and that was what Shayda was to her in more ways than either of them really knew or could comprehend.
Taimat called her friend, Lena, and asked her if she could come over. She just had to get out of the house.
“I thought you were going to Shayda api’s wedding?” Lena said, sounding confused in her mildly Greek accent. She had gotten into the habit of calling Shayda, api too. In fact the whole group that Tiamat hung out with called her that. They even called her oldest brother bhai and her second oldest lala for good measure. But they didn’t really respect Sheer that much, so he was just the annoying boy who just happened to live with Tiamat.
But to Bridget and Jaimie- he was hot- apparently.
“Well I said I wasn’t going to go- so I won’t.”
Lena sighed, and Tiamat could almost see her shaking her head. “You’re stubborn.”
“I believe that has been established.”
“Where’s your mum?”
“She went to the wedding- Shayda api refused to let her stay behind with some carer. You know what she’s like.”
Lena laughed. “Babe, I know more than you think. I kinda wanted say hi to her to be honest. I haven’t seen her for ages.”
“She’s been asking after you actually,” mused Tiamat, “anyway, you gotta get your butt her now, before I do something stupid like go into camden and go down to the cannal.”
“Honey, you live in Camden.”
“That’s not the point.”
Lena laughed. “Be there before you can say supercallifragalisticespiallidocious.”
“I can’t say that,” Tiamat protested.
“That’s the point. Bye babes!”
“See ya.”
She hung up, and started to get changed, sighing deeply.