My first poem since about November as a matter of fact. I call it "Call of Winter".

Let me know what you think.

Walking among planes of sleep
I search for the calls of winter.
Where everything is blanketed
with a cover of white.
No sound shall penetrate through
as I sleep.
And no souls shall weep
as I close my eyes.
And I shall sleep.
I will see again in the morning.
I shall hear the angelic cries
of the early birds.
Let me walk among the planes

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Honestly, I am growing a bit tired of not having money.

So since I picked up my pens earlier today, or rather yesterday, I've gotten up the courage to write. And what I wrote, is the beginning to a little one-shot story called Something That's Been Said. I'll probably change the title later on as I go on further but that's it for now. It's a first-person(pony) point of view story that I'm hoping won't turn out awful like the last one (Very Curious Something's). Seriously, if you haven't already read VCS, DONT. It's horrible. I'm thinking

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I've had enough of drowning myself in worry and not doing anything. I'm tired of being worthless. It is pointless to worry over things I cannot control. I am tired of it. Enough is enough. Time to break out the pens I believe.

I've been thinking about a conversation I had with my friend Will on the way home Tuesday night from the hospital. We were discussing whether or not an afterlife exists beyond death and whether or not it's what we want. I think that although the idea of an eternal afterlife is comforting, I would eventually grow tired of living forever. There's only so much one can see and do. I think that if I were to die old and when I've seen all and I've done all, then I think that an eternal sleep and rest

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Title says it all

So I probably shouldn't be saying this because of privacy and whatnot but I really just need to get it out. I am sitting here on the verge of tears. I really need to just get it out. That seems to help. Anyhow, my friend's father went in for surgery several days ago for some pain he was having in his back but after he came out, something went terribly wrong. The doctors don't know what happened or how it happened, but he's now on life support.

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I'm putting everything on hiatus and am going to go away for a while. I'm leaving Mr. Self Destruct in charge of Struggling Authors while I am away.

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So . . . Rarishy. So I was just sitting here at the computer listening to "A Face in the Crowd" by Tom Petty and slowly working on THoMH chapters when all of a sudden . . . BAM! . . . New story idea. I'm not gonna say anything about it except for it's gonna be Rarishy

EDIT

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Just got back from vacation. Oh it was amazing. Now to get on typing up them two chapters I managed to write. It's good to be home.