The Chronicles of Liddy

This piece of the internet has been neglected for almost a year.

I digress.

What is the meaning of life?

Oh the greatest cliche of existence.

How aware is too self-aware?

Just a thought until I have more time.

-L...how did I sign my name, exactly?

"My cheek swells from the surgery of the tooth, I am visible like
chipmunk."

Original English Text:
My name is Elizabeth. I am the queen of this country. Bow to me, you fool!
Translated to Japanese:
??????????????????????????????????!

Translated back to English:
My name is Elizabeth. I am the queen of this country. The bow to my it
deceives!

Translated to Chinese:
???????????????(??)???/?????????!

Translated back to English:
My name is Elizabeth. I am this country (zone) queen/queen. The bow
diddles to my it!
----------------

Original English Text:
Oh crap! How can this be? Run! Get out of here! You fool, I told you to run! Now!
Translated to Japanese:
??????????! ???????????????????! ????????! ??????????????! ?!

Translated back to English:
Junk of Ohio state! How in case of a certain, is there this? Run! Come
out of here! It deceives, I said that it runs,! Now!

Translated to Chinese:
???????! ???????, ?????? ??! ?????! ???, ???????,!!

Translated back to English:
Ohio state second hand goods! In the definite situation, how has is
this? Run! From comes out here! It diddles, I now said it runs,! !

When Liddy went with Xavier's family to Massachusetts, she couldn't help it. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of him. All of his quirks and habits were too charming, all his words too interesting. She was jealous of him, jealous of his good character. Yet she found herself almost in love- and she was deft enough to hide it, to burry it in the deepest folds of her conciousness, to conceal every feeling and every fleeting glance, to not stare longer than necessary, to not commit a Freudin Slip- that would result in absolute death. Why? It was not right, it was the wrong time, wrong age, wrong way. There are things that must be followed, things that must happen before two such as they could be joined- not that there was an chance in the universe. It was fantasy, bombarding Liddy with a landslide of those feelings which accompany a secret crush- a very, very secret crush. A crush that must be..well, crushed.

So It passed, and the vacation was over, she had fun with the family- though every moment was dyed red, dyed the color of near-obsession. Every glance at him was a photograph clearer than her digital camera, every touch was flare which she scorned herself for cherishing, every exchange of words like talking with a celebrity. And through it all she resisted all outward appearance. It worked, and no one noticed.

And then she we home, and it left. It was over. Could it have been hormones? Misguided longing? She couldn't tell. It was meerly a fragment again, an unexplainable thing left on a dusty shelf inside of her that could be picked up and ruffled again. After that week in Massachusetts, the memory of it sparked whenever she saw Xavier again. A onesided admiration on a cataclysmic level. She hated it but secretly wished it could be real.

Colorful music bounced around in the air, caressing Lydia’s ears as she watched a line of dancers leap around gracefully to the beat. After an entire day of walking and hardly resting, this simple entertainment was completely welcome. Sir Nicholas sat next to her, nodding off once in a while despite the enthusiastic atmosphere. His sword and bag rested next to him.
 
 They had met the Grass Folk after they had eaten the last of their beef jerky and were fully dehydrated, walking at about 3 feet and hour through the stale grass and endless grass. The Grass Folk lived in the exact center of the Grass Desert, in grand little houses with a quaint little town center. Their city was the only city for 50 miles around, which meant Lydia and Nicholas were at the halfway point.

The meeting had actually been quite awkward. A miniscule boy about the age of 6 with tan skin had seen them walking and assumed they were aliens, since he had never seen anyone but his own people in his relatively short lifetime.

“Have you come to steal my sheep?” He had said, innocently. A tiny heard of extremely ugly, grey-wooled sheep grazed in the general vicinity and bahhed rather boredly. Nicholas had just laughed derisively, and the boy started crying.

Lydia immediately scolded Nicholas and went to comfort the boy, who promptly darted away, his sheep following lackadaisically. Hungry, thirsty, and thoroughly worn out; Lydia and Nicholas decided to follow the boy as he ran away in unwarranted horror. Soon enough they saw the tubby buildings and heard the noise of a town. The two were met with angry shepherd parents, but in a few minutes Lydia and Nicholas had convinced them of their peacefulness and they were welcomed into the city as guests.

What a day, Lydia thought, leaning back against the hard wood chair on which she sat. Half the town, it seemed, was in the Square on this wondrous night, singing and dancing and having a good time. Apparently, it was a holiday called Forever Day. Banners were strewn all over the buildings and pictures decorated all the shop windows, a truly colorful holiday with a grand feast to top it all off.

Most were aware of the strangers’ presence, but Lydia’s identity had to remain secret in order to stay safe from the Ratikikosta. She looked at Nicholas, who was sound asleep by now and snoring softly. She wondered about him, her faithful guard. They usually didn’t talk much, only lately had they gotten to finding out things about each other. That is inevitable when two people are put together over a long period of time, and for them it had been four straight days. All she knew was that he guarded the King, loved reading books, had three older sisters, deceased parents, and absolutely loved salmon…plus other random facts. He had only heard vaguely of the Alouette before this journey. He didn’t know much more about Lydia, either, and her situtation was the same. They were two strangers taken out of comfort and put into something much bigger than themselves.

While she was contemplating the past few days, she didn’t noticed that a brown-haired man in a rainbow-checkered suit had taken the platform. With great pinache, the man finish a beautiful poem about the sky and stars.
“Any requests?” He said with a deep, eloquaint voice. People instantly began shouting out song and story titles, a rush of excited suggestions. The entertainer had already spotted Lydia, however, and pointed at her. “The first request will be from our unexpected guest. What will you have me perform for you, M’Lady?”

Lydia was caught off guard and laughed nervously, racking her brain for any song or story. She knew none because her aunts had banned everything of the sort, and she didn’t know the title of the only song she had ever heard, sung by Ms. Rittle. She was curious, though, and asked, “Do you know any thing about the Alouette?” The croud gasped with another bout of excitement, and shouts of “yes, do that!” filled the air.

The entertainer stood up straight with a content look on his angular face. “Well, I will tell a tale of the first Alouette, the girl who saved the first King.”

He blew out a lantern on the side of the stage for mood lighting and the croud hushed. Lydia looked at Nicholas, who was still deep in sleep. She decided not to bother him and leaned forward to hear the teller’s tale, which he sung with such a smooth voice one could listen to it forever.

“On the fancy of the farmer, a dream rose soft and solid.
 The farmer dreampt of a ground in the south,
a ground with the bright grass of emeralds.
It was splendid and glorious, he wanted it.
The heart of the farmer longed for it.
In the daytime and at night he thought of it.
He harvested his crop, always by thinking of the land.
The sky was blue to the south, water was colder and cleaner.
The trees grew tall and sturdy,
On hills of boundless grace.

One day he heard a women shouting, it tore his heart in two.
He left his plow and ran,
And that which he saw was horrible.
A monster ten feet tall importuned with rage,
her people were all dying.
A monster had attacked the ground of the south
and took all of its dreams.

The farmer found an army.
 It was an army of ten thousand men.
They struggled and struggled against the monster with fact to be cordial,
 But the monster was a formidable foe.
Finally the girl, whom the monster had attacked,
Made a trip in the East of the south.
She traveled in the Valley of Aden.
With a heavy heart, her soul found the way to salvation.
On a hill in a dale,
Where stars meet the lunar eclipse,
She found a song in the scent of air,
And with all of her heart she sang it.
The monster heard the tune floating over the hills.
It burned bloody holes through its ears,
Its dread was multiplied as it melted in fright,
Tortured by hope and by beauty.

So the ground of emeralds,
It was saved by the girl
With the help of the farmer of vision,
He called her Alouette,
The Lark,
The Singer,
And knew she’d protect them forever.”

The silence in the air was crafted in awe, as the entertainer’s velvety voice quieted. Sir Nicholas had awoken in the middle of the ballad and looked with puzzlement at Lydia. Slowly, everyone began to clap and applauded the beauty of the song, faces turned to her in approval of her suggestion.

“What was he singing about?” He mumbled, rubbing his groggy eyes and sitting up.
“The first Alouette,” Lydia replied. Sir Nicholas didn’t know what else to say because he detected that a certain solemnity had come over Lydia, who sat staring with concentrated eyes at the ground. She looked at the sky a moment later and added, “The Folk say there is a lunar eclipse is three days.”

“That is when you will find your song,” Nicholas said carefully.
“Yes.”

See, life is an experience. Every second you make a new decision that will determine the rest of day- or even life. We think at different levels, and everyone has their own twisted version of how the rest of humanity should act. Some say there is no absolute truth, when in reality that is twisted logic. There must be a driving force, something that threads the universe together- a central theme, and stable rock on which absolutely everything is built upon. Some do not even try to figure this out and live superficially at the level of appearences. Most try to sort this whole 'life' thing and attempt an idea- but ultimately get lost in everyday culture. Alot claim they have found The Truth- or some form of it. Yet others flost around all of this.

I have no idea where I'm going with this. it's just a rant.

-a long time ago


Aside from that, something has happened recently within myself, and I'm wondering if I should keep this journal anonymous. What do I have to hide? I must be vulnerable, and unembarassed. Somebody will someday know all of my layers(remember what Shrek said- Ogres are like Onions..I'm not an ogre, but I think humans are like onions too), and I must not be unfamiliar with being known and shown. 

My one philosophy and goal is to live a blameless life so that there is never any reason at all to lie. Lies stem from embarassment, shame, guilt, fear. I want none of that. I have heard that freedom is simply the ability to say no. I say no to fear. Fear sucks, literally. It sucks away life, ambition, and accomplishment. It sucks away faith and peace. It sucks away intimacy.

I love Jesus with all my heart, my life is His completely. My independance is not one of detachment from authority but of freedom. So thus I am not afriad to declare it to the world that Jesus Christ is Lord.

I do not intend to slice myslef up into pieces any longer for different portions of my life. I am one entity and I have one face. A diamond has many sides, but they all create a transparent and dazzling light show on the inside. That is what I am. I have come from being coal and I have been becoming a diamond. The heat is the Fire of God and the pressure is the everyday experience of life. The light reflected and shining on the inside of me is Jesus, and the transparency is vulnerability.

That's what we all are, a bunch of coal meant to be diamonds.




By the way, my psuedonym is really just my initials tweaked a bit. There's just something cool about having a psuedonym, being anonymous. If I ever write a novel or comicbook, I'll use this name.

-Liddy

Great things this month:

Braces(not fun but I'll have straight teeth someday in the future)
Moving to a bigger apartment
Leaving school early to go to Colorado
and...

I GOT MY PERMIT TODAY, FINALLY!

I get to leave school a weak early. Things are busy, i have to pack and study for exams at the same time.

Life rocks.

Personally, atleast. I am still worried about my friend.

-Liddy

Liddy has so much to do, or atleast it seems that way. Nevertheless, she abandones all responsibility and playfully chases Nick Jay off of her porch, running after him until beads of sweat collected along her hairline. He runs because he's severely ticklish and Liddy threatened him with an attack to the tummy.

After reaching the end of the block, they both stop and double over in exhaustion. This is what happens when one sits in a plastic shair for seven hours at school and then on the couch a few more hours and at the computer desk a few more. Physical activity is a foreign concept to a hefty percentage of American population. Yet no matter how long one sits staring at a screen, one can never resist a little sunlight. 

"Let's go to the forest, Nick." She says, returning to normal heart speed. The forest was really an undeveloped patch of trees left to fend for itself in the center of a massive patch of urban encroahment. Sort of like Central Park in New York. There's not much point to it being there except as place for all the fire ants to escape to when surburban families pull out their lethal ant killing chemicals.