Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Fury Poem.

This is my Poetry Project. I already know I'm not the best at poetry, so don't laugh.
It's about Kale and what he might feel if he ever saw Cedric again. Not nice, not nice at all.
Well, I'm kind of nervous posting this but . . . Hope you enjoy!

Fury

You do not know true fury –

Scarlet red clouding your vision,

Screaming at the top of your lungs –

That’s not real fury.


When you’re standing face-to-face – toe-to-toe –

With a man you thought was like your father,

But only using you like a tool –

Then running away, leaving you all alone –

That’s real fury.


Scorching fire in my hands –

Hot enough to burn any normal human being –

Now racing through my body like a wild fire.

Fire has no sense of humor now –

It’s looking to do more than scare him.


He doesn’t look so scared now –

Calm and collected, as usual.

Even though I’m ten times stronger.

I could turn his skin to ash –

And his bones to charcoal.


But he needs to give me a reason –

I won’t hurt someone for no reason, unlike him.

I can keep the fire under control –

But only for so long.

Fire hates to be controlled.

Monday, March 29, 2010

Back.

First day back at school after Spring Break.
Had to go from waking up at 11:00 for a week, to waking up at 5:00 a.m. again. Again, I hate mornings.
Of course this day wouldn't be perfect, no school day is. Ever.
But this morning started out worse than usual.
I forgot I had set my iHome as my alarm clock AND my cell phone. So I had Bring Me The Horizon blaring while the annoying chimes of my cell phone alarm going off at the same time. My ears were STILL ringing a half-hour later.

After I got out of the shower I took my pill for my ADD, like any other school morning. I haven't taken my pills for a week because of Spring Break, I mean when will have to pay attention during vacation? As a result of that, I was quite light headed and clear minded while I blow dried and straightened my hair. Plus my new conditioner did NOT agree with my hair and left this weird texture.

Now to my biggest problem of the morning.
If you know me, you should know I always wear a hat outside of school. I have more hats then shoes, but I only have one hat that I wear ALL THE TIME. It's special. I didn't really like how my hair looked so I wanted to wear it to make not as poofy. Only one problem...

I couldn't find it.

The places that I usually put it, it wasn't there. After I threw clothes around, dug through my bed, I started to freak out. I know, it's stupid to freak over a misplaced hat. But to me, that was serious. I roamed the house looking everywhere I was in the day before that I could have left it in. It was no where to be found. Now, I'm not the most thorough, I usually half-ass looking through things. I only tore through the places I usually toss it, not the other parts of my room. Now my room is kind of dark, especially in the early morning. I have HORRIBLE lighting, so I took a flashlight on my desk to look in the darker parts, lo and behold, there it was. Under a plastic bag. Glad I found it, I was about to send out a search brigade.


On a lighter note, my art project.
The art project I'm working on now is the first project I'm actually proud of. I usually hate everything I do because it NEVER comes out the way I pictured it. But this one, at least so far, everything is going perfect. My teacher seems to really like it, but I'm just guessing here because she says it's "amazing" and "awesome" and "fantastic" every time she sees it. Yes, that was sarcasm. Anyway, today during class she asked to put it in the next art show. I was shocked and ecstatic at the same time. This is the first time I've been asked, and to think I can show TONS of people the work I'm actually proud of is amazing. She needs it by April 8th, and I still have a lot of work to do. But it's going to be worth it.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Church.

Today is Sunday. Besides Mondays, one of the worst days of the week.

I don't mean to offend anyone, but I hate church. And in my family, who is very religious and have been going to church every Sunday, that's a problem.

I don't like what they talk about, especially about sin. Saying that if you do a certain thing you'll be damned to Hell unless you're "forgiven" by God or Jesus. Humans are programmed to Sin, we are programmed to be lazy, greedy, vain, envious, and angry. It's in our brain, our blood, we can't help it. And to say that you're going to Hell for something you can't help is ridiculous. Even the priests and overly religious people aren't all squeaky clean like they preach about. They want you to be perfect, and let's face it. Nobody is perfect. Especially in history the church hasn't been the nicest of people. Back then the church has always been corrupt and greedy, granted it's gotten better, but it's still shows some of it's greedy side. Well, at least in my church. Not to mention their judgmental tendencies. Jesus didn't discriminate, he loved everyone.

Now on a personal level, I've always thought church was boring. I've fallen asleep numerous of times. Whenever I'm forced to go (non holiday related) I always bring a book to read, and believe me, my Dad is NEVER happy during that. Nor are the people sitting around me. The people in my church have never looked my way very kindly.

Again, I have nothing against Jesus Christ, just Church.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Mornings.

I hate mornings.

I had a hair appointment today, and this may sound vain, but I LOVE getting my hair done. Only because my hair is the only thing about myself (besides my writing) I'm proud of. My hair appointment was kind of last minute, and the only time slot they had left for my stylist was at eight in the morning. And the only reason I was okay with this is because I needed a trim like BAD, you could barely see my face anymore. Plus my color was fading something terrible. Anyway, back on topic, the salon opens at eight. I had to wake up at seven, I nearly died. Mornings are not my best friend, I'm definitely a night owl. I usually wake up at eleven-ish. It took about an hour and a half to do my hair, and by the time Esther (my stylist) was done, I could have still been sleeping if it was a normal day. I mean, I nearly fell asleep in the chair while I was waiting for my color to set in. Note to self: Don't schedule ANYTHING in the morning again.

But on a lighter note, my dad signed me up for a writers conference that's in late April. I'm SO VERY excited. It's going to be really helpful and I can't wait! It's a three day conference and it offers pretty much everything to help a beginning writer like myself. And if I bring in a couple chapters from my manuscript an author that's there could even read it and give me a few pointers! It's hard trying to contain my excitement. SO much stuff is going to happen in April, if all goes well that is.

Friday, March 26, 2010

Pictures of you.

So my mom was watching this show about finding lost relatives or something and she decided she wanted to talk about my birth parents. We really don't do that that often, and I'm totally okay with that. Even though I think about them a lot, and talk about my birth father to my friends a lot. But, tonight is the first time I didn't feel sad when she asked me about my birth mother. I don't like to admit I feel a tad bit sad about the whole thing...

Anyway, getting off topic. I only really have interest in my birth father, even though if I ever wanted to meet him it would be harder sense my parents never met him. And when I told my mom that she just came right out and said "His name is Uri," and for some reason, my heart kind of sank. This is TOTALLY new information. That's always been one of my favorite names. And I've always known my mom has had a picture of him, and she's even asked me if I've wanted to see it, see him, but I've never really wanted to. Until now that is.

I have this funny feeling in my tummy now. She still has to find the photo, but I'm still a mix of nervous and excited. He's an artist, and Polish, which I'm quite proud of. My mom says I get my artistic abilities from him. It would be cool if I met him one day. But after my mom said she never met him, I wonder if he even knew about me...

It's weird what a simple mention of a photo and a name can make me think about...


Thursday, March 25, 2010

Explanation?

Some people may wonder what Dorchadas House means.

Well, let me tell you.

It is two different parts, or rather places, from my story Immortal. Now my story is somewhat complex because of the number of important characters in it, and the title of this "blog?" comes from two of those characters.

Dorchadas is from my character Prosper Patch, or just Patch. She's a faerie from the Dorchadas Court. "Dorchadas" is Irish for Darkness, and her Court is basically very dark, including the faeries in it. Unlike the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. And seeing as I'm kind of "dark" myself, I thought it fit.

The House portion is a little less interesting. I have a vampire character named Greyston, and in the vampire world (at least in my mind) there are these places called "Houses." The Houses are in the four major vampire populated cities in America. They are basically the White Houses of the vampire world.

My family thinks I'm a cynic, and because of this I thought a great title would be "Dorchadas House" or "Dark House." Seeing as how I have a "dark outlook on life" and all that jazz.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Introduction





Er.
Hi, Hello. My name is Darby Marie Peters. I hate my name. I don't really know what I plan to do with this, but I'll just go with it. I have a lot on my mind, pretty much all the time. So maybe I'll put it here. I'll try to be as open as possible.

I write all the time. Prose, poetry, but mostly prose. I might put some of that here. But you will more than likely find THAT on my deviantART.

I like dolls. I have a BJD (ball jointed doll) named Reese, and I plan on getting A LOT more. Reese is based off of my original character from my story Immortal, and I love him to bits. This is going to make me sound crazy, but if you have characters of your own you'd understand, he's like my best friend. Just in doll form.