tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73039253097370048912024-02-20T05:44:05.693+00:00Angel Jane's World... AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.comBlogger245125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-66149755653296547772023-02-27T15:45:00.001+00:002023-02-27T15:45:30.846+00:00The Voice... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIM6-cCrZGuRLcMTthI7_sePwqZdr_A8qsL9mraXNcbOuD-5wZEF0LvRhgyY7-rEqkUfVeOuxt5rbHPpcfXg9GzUJi9PJ8tTkQtCJbUdud0G1DvMjVJPLmJGxfEtf1A-ktUMEKgp27B-MUnTuqyGTgBrbUoIoiFmR5AbfNralkLsm0WrXBs0xSOMgjkg/s655/3431d82a8c2ad7d31db0d147ea194a79.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="655" data-original-width="332" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIM6-cCrZGuRLcMTthI7_sePwqZdr_A8qsL9mraXNcbOuD-5wZEF0LvRhgyY7-rEqkUfVeOuxt5rbHPpcfXg9GzUJi9PJ8tTkQtCJbUdud0G1DvMjVJPLmJGxfEtf1A-ktUMEKgp27B-MUnTuqyGTgBrbUoIoiFmR5AbfNralkLsm0WrXBs0xSOMgjkg/w193-h320/3431d82a8c2ad7d31db0d147ea194a79.jpg" width="193" /></a></div><i><br /></i><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i><b> </b></i></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: verdana; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><b>A voice tells the story of a moment that changed life, forever..</b>.</i> </span></div><p></p><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Looking over the wall was a nightmare but falling into the sea, her end. Surrounded by sharks and her siblings was more than she could take. </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">A dark sky witnesses huge waves crash against the crumbling brickwork of the highest wall that she'd ever seen, and as her Siblings sink into darkness, beneath the black ocean, she frantically grabs for them, trying her hardest to raise them up out of the water, and to </span></span><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" tabindex="-1"></a></span><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">push them up the wall so that onlookers can save them. As the sharks bite into her brothers and sister, blood fills her mouth, when she looks into the terrified eyes of her family... She screams, petrified. She knows she will be next, but if anything happens to her, they will all perish. </span></span></span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">But...</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">nothing happened in the sea that night, or any other night because this particular child was recounting the nightmare of being taken in the middle of the night, by child protection, and medical professionals. </span></span></span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Every night for the longest time, she woke in a sweat, crying, heartbroken because of the same recurring nightmare. A trauma that would stay with her till the end. </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Believe it or not it will all work out. </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="background-color: white; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">How? </span></div><div dir="auto"><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;">One day, you'll be the adult, you'll make the choices, and it'll be up to you to do what's right, for you and those around you... </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">She lost her family, so what did she want?... she wanted a family, it was important. With that in her heart she made one, she worked towards it and made it happen. It didn't happen overnight. she worked on herself, and got re-educated and worked towards her dream. </span></span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">It took a long time. </span></span></span><span style="color: #050505; font-family: verdana; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">But, it did happen. </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;">'We are not what happens to us. We are who we are despite what happens'. </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;">MJ </span></div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">PS</span></span><span style="color: #050505; font-family: verdana; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just to be clear, being brought into the care-system was the best thing that happened to her.</span></span></span></div></div></div></div>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-55207469959563584072023-02-06T16:35:00.000+00:002023-02-06T16:35:44.030+00:00Time For Reflection... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpKVlXTmFAqhpeZ3HcxtiQeWwLqNkJqacQjgom71I-gPEc8TWPS-YRJ28_hE4jalsvJ8pU7YIYpAU7v0nfZi3WAOuXTrkKIVuRSK9dVsUmg-T7e93p7KkpyHbyBFfUdkaSPLrk56ejNDOCoWEL_BjHukXmDc02FIQcIueTVsWxFR5FMBikneBsjPGUeg/s805/e89c7c7160d648ea3fc8e57bf8ebe579.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="805" data-original-width="570" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpKVlXTmFAqhpeZ3HcxtiQeWwLqNkJqacQjgom71I-gPEc8TWPS-YRJ28_hE4jalsvJ8pU7YIYpAU7v0nfZi3WAOuXTrkKIVuRSK9dVsUmg-T7e93p7KkpyHbyBFfUdkaSPLrk56ejNDOCoWEL_BjHukXmDc02FIQcIueTVsWxFR5FMBikneBsjPGUeg/s320/e89c7c7160d648ea3fc8e57bf8ebe579.jpg" width="227" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Courgette;">It's hard to believe my last post was the middle of December. </span><span style="font-family: Courgette; text-align: left;">Thank you so much for your messages. </span><span style="font-family: Courgette; text-align: left;">There's been a lot on my mind. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Courgette; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courgette; text-align: left;">I've been thinking about being real, and in studying that I knew it was time to reflect... let things go that weren't serving me, and make a conscious effort to be real. I discovered I was spending much to much time on social media and not accomplishing anything, wasting precious time, which I could use to be doing other meaningful things. It's so easy to get into the habit of wasting time, and it's strange because I can hardly believe how liberated I feel, knowing I can now take time out to do the things I felt I didn't have time for. </span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Courgette;">There is a list of things to do. I have a project on the go that requires more research, so now I will focus and be able to continue writing with gusto... Once I have a new excerpt I shall blog again, and hopefully connect with like-minded followers. Lets face it, most of what happens on Social Media, isn't real... I think once we connect with another who is 100% authentic, and feel the same vibe, its important to stay in-touch. There are not many genuine individuals out there who feel as we do. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Courgette;">Signing off with love... </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Courgette;">MJ Ewen </span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-75597270581400663642022-12-15T13:47:00.001+00:002022-12-15T13:47:58.879+00:00Forgiveness... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJiW1if6NI8Vkd6SRTnmY3Qu-DG5Qk_4q5IJ0KgL1cAuHIru07hiL_y6yAvkfYL7_kzRrM9wqTDKrRaVMx1c4Ujo2QemX6UtOj6U7I5HbI9gyLiAkaVT9GcQdKzyDKDeOjDfA9AqiaDFHGx-uSQboPHz8b7UGXxdg4JXTjP720S_jjIvXc5vyPk_R6w/s720/blog%20pic%2015%20Dec%2022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJiW1if6NI8Vkd6SRTnmY3Qu-DG5Qk_4q5IJ0KgL1cAuHIru07hiL_y6yAvkfYL7_kzRrM9wqTDKrRaVMx1c4Ujo2QemX6UtOj6U7I5HbI9gyLiAkaVT9GcQdKzyDKDeOjDfA9AqiaDFHGx-uSQboPHz8b7UGXxdg4JXTjP720S_jjIvXc5vyPk_R6w/w213-h320/blog%20pic%2015%20Dec%2022.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br /> </div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I will tell my story about what you did... it will emerge from a learned soul and penetrate even the coldest of hearts... you will see how your behaviour affected the innocent. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">It's my hope that you will understand and learn.</span><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">If you don't, it's because you don't want to. </span></p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">They think there are no consequences, but they live and die under false illusions. I smile, I know different, there are always consequences and the passage of time will make no difference.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">If you do it, live it, and know it's wrong, then you will bear those consequences.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So for now I will write my learning, I'll speak my truth, and share all I know so that the unforgivable, and all of our stories will mount, and your understanding will continue. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Whatever process you acquire, to learn, and understand when seeking out knowledge, or however you set your skills, values, and attitude... it must begin with a good heart, and for those of you who make the mistake of saying, but... I had a hard childhood, it happened to me, then my friend, you are the least excused, because you know more than most how it feels to be in that deep, dark, desperate hole...</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">If you read this and know you are guilty, then think and move forward in a way to work on yourself. There's no excuse. The amount of information, the signposting to a better way, is visible in our invisible world. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">To those of you who ignore it all, and to those who walk through life not challenging the behaviour of those who are guilty, you, are just as bad if not worse by allowing others to be harmed, it's not acceptable, and it's definitely not acceptable to turn a blind eye.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They say it takes a village to raise a child... well let me tell you this, I came from a large family, they all turned a blind eye, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, and unbelievably, Grandparents ... they all contributed to the neglect, the abuse, the lies, and the horrendous life we had to live before a neighbour intervened... You think children don't want to leave abusive Parents/family/carers... think again, my life started when I was taken. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The stories, the messages, my thoughts will continue till I am no more... and my message to you out there, you who maybe suffering because of what you've been through... There is light, there is healing, sometimes there is no understanding but its not your fault, and you will learn to leave the blame where it belongs, even though right now you feel like you'll never be able to move on, trust me, you will.</span></span><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Always remember that Forgiveness is for you, and helps you move on. In forgiving, it enables the bitterness to disappear from your life... </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">MJ Ewen</span></div>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-18941564249446024232022-12-12T13:54:00.005+00:002022-12-12T13:54:47.265+00:00Virginia...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxf3YjqlrPph6K0ObeKPN9wSwsnybv6eGL6aS-vLS_cDp71cxU6jO2YHnEVEq3yocoXfsxpwkiNWWMAx-z9DdpQZ9vx6lk1gYUzC1hwK-pTHpwis9RiwySGQjGEdyVCQdsxD5KfHMUCC96n4AMiLEkSdZx4QB36G4TWBGZaeiTA65pNFf6H_wYxctoSg/s668/6e6580bd21d0ef7017530673cb36d021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="668" data-original-width="448" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxf3YjqlrPph6K0ObeKPN9wSwsnybv6eGL6aS-vLS_cDp71cxU6jO2YHnEVEq3yocoXfsxpwkiNWWMAx-z9DdpQZ9vx6lk1gYUzC1hwK-pTHpwis9RiwySGQjGEdyVCQdsxD5KfHMUCC96n4AMiLEkSdZx4QB36G4TWBGZaeiTA65pNFf6H_wYxctoSg/w215-h338/6e6580bd21d0ef7017530673cb36d021.jpg" width="215" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i><b>Let me introduce myself... </b></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i><b>My name is Virginia.</b></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">I have to say I have no idea why my parents called me Virginia. To me the name dictates a strong, </span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">brave women, who would intuitively protect those around her, and due to silly curiosity, I looked up its meaning... I was surprised to discover it meant, pure, virgin bride, and chaste... well I don't think so, how the hell do you think I cornered my victims? The only person I want to protect, is me... so for your own safety, if you're weak, and present as vulnerable, stay the hell away. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"> </span></div><p></p><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I grew up amongst Monsters, and quickly Iearned how to stay safe. I figured out that if you scanned your surroundings then the feedback would infiltrate you, with the information you'd need... I learned so much, I had all the answers, which meant I'd always have my say, and being in control is paramount. </span></div><div><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I'm everybody's friend, until I'm not. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">It all started with pain, and then those damn voices came.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I quickly learned to achieve the skills I'd use to my advantage. At a young age I became use to assessing, and reporting. This was how I became able to design an internal pilot scheme, to get rid of certain individuals who I knew would become a drain in my world.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">The scheme was specific and I followed my guidelines to the letter... anything else just wouldn't do. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">From an early age I sensed the stranger inside of me, the stranger whispered its lies, and told stories to claim victims. She was relentless, even I felt anxious of the lengths she would go to.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b>...<i>Things happened to her, terrible things, things she doesn't ever want to discuss or think about. So, if you ever meet Virginia, for God's sake don't show any sensitivity or weakness, because, if it's one thing she detests, it's someone who may let her down... </i></b></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">MJ Ewen </span></div>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-56820605291325513062022-12-02T16:42:00.002+00:002022-12-02T16:42:42.162+00:00The Gypsy... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhizaMo8Su9_YDQnOWkhjvi-3IpOkC-j9_j2w4-DBg6DhUA9PBqAXE7Ld9GhYUNwC8g_MeBcVuXOngvNXWdrq5vaBQaBgjWqfU4jnoM441QuAAghLSGFVkofrdAvlN50EtXoFoZ9F8wcGVej1cHbOcJfgL-30bZ2MPHH_tz0M06vyYN2HE1F6Waghdt9w/s640/Blog%20Pic%202nd%20Dec%2022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="440" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhizaMo8Su9_YDQnOWkhjvi-3IpOkC-j9_j2w4-DBg6DhUA9PBqAXE7Ld9GhYUNwC8g_MeBcVuXOngvNXWdrq5vaBQaBgjWqfU4jnoM441QuAAghLSGFVkofrdAvlN50EtXoFoZ9F8wcGVej1cHbOcJfgL-30bZ2MPHH_tz0M06vyYN2HE1F6Waghdt9w/w234-h346/Blog%20Pic%202nd%20Dec%2022.jpg" width="234" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i>Just imagine... </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i>your walking along the road to nowhere, you know somethings got to happen because your life's in the gutter, and, you also realise that If you disappeared right now, no one would miss you. </i></span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">You've accomplished nothing. Your thoughts and mood, have been dark for a long time. </i></div><p></p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You look around but your vision is cloudy, you're walking, aimlessly. Then it starts snowing. Within a couple of minutes the snow begins to fall hard. You're not dressed for winter, you left the house in a hurry. Music, you hear music. It's a Christmas Carol... we wish you a merry Christmas... we wish you a merry Christmas... its Christmas! Is it really Christmas? her intuition tells</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> her to follow the music.</span><div><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the distance the glow from fairy lights cuts through the haze of falling snow. There are voices, music, and laughter. It's been so long since I laughed. I wonder, could I do that again? ... Maybe not. Since you left, the world's felt lonely, and the way you left confirmed my importance. Since then, my time has been spent reevaluating who I am, my purpose, and where I'm going, or actually, do I want to be here? and like a recording, I'm stuck... Death is final. Its so inviting, but not to be taken lightly. I need to think everything through. Mind you, its not like anyone will miss me, but have I finished, am I really done?</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gaiety is up ahead, the music sounds beautiful, but can I feel beauty, right now? So many questions, so much uncertainty. The music</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> alters, it's gypsy music, violins, and fiddles, jig out the beautiful, and the dark, reminding me of how we use to dance. </span><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wiping snow from my eyes, I'm startled as</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> a tall lady steps </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">out from </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">in-front</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> of her brightly coloured stall, </span></div><div><div><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"Hello my lovely, may I invite you into my space, I have a feeling you won't regret your visit"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Her dark curly hair, cascades down, despite being </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">tied up in a bright turban scarf which holds golden coins that jiggle as she moves. D</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ressed like a Gypsy, her dark eyes softly stare. She's waits for an answer. </span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What do I have to lose? I whisper to myself. Her patience is inspiring, I know I'm supposed to answer, but this overwhelming, inadequate feeling, monopolises my mind.</span></div><div><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"Come, let's talk, I sense you need a friend"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Feeling comfortable, I reach out to hold her hand. The Gypsy pulls me through her sequinned curtain</span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, revealing the smallest room which is beautifully decorated. A </span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">tiny round table, two blue velvet covered chairs, shelves, that home books, trinkets and treasures. In the middle of the table sits the most exquisite, crystal snow globe, which rests on a intricate, gold stand, raising it from the linen it sits upon. My </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">senses heighten, I smell delicious aromas, and essential oils. </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Please, take a seat, let your experience begin" </span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sitting down,</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I'm unable to draw my eyes away from the globe, its light reflects silver, and golden specs of incredible light, whilst tiny flecks of snow, float around a scene I can't</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> quite see...</span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Gypsy settles herself, and asks,</span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Shall we begin, my lovely?" </span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">MJ Ewen</span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /></div></div></div>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-77645903293743935412022-11-29T19:14:00.000+00:002022-11-29T19:14:42.264+00:00Writers Are Never Alone... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDNoTZcwAYVNcLH1pjlMXKa2meF3OrI5xw3q7l9uVj3fBhzsJ_TsUuv-HvXEDmuYew086H12BP2T9-xP-U9FLOwHCdGn8Zt17dY2NSF6ORBPqVEg--oPi7Wr2Pn7GVGZzWjDfQyN5YpkYyJJ8aF5nQ6ixkQrMJjwm1M9aXxo9jIK6W_t2RVwRuQVJlIg/s851/ab8eb3589022cd2d2e00723fcc243bfe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="851" data-original-width="567" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDNoTZcwAYVNcLH1pjlMXKa2meF3OrI5xw3q7l9uVj3fBhzsJ_TsUuv-HvXEDmuYew086H12BP2T9-xP-U9FLOwHCdGn8Zt17dY2NSF6ORBPqVEg--oPi7Wr2Pn7GVGZzWjDfQyN5YpkYyJJ8aF5nQ6ixkQrMJjwm1M9aXxo9jIK6W_t2RVwRuQVJlIg/w263-h392/ab8eb3589022cd2d2e00723fcc243bfe.jpg" width="263" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I<i>f I can help you see that beautiful light </i></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i>within then my purpose has been exposed, find that light, and find your magic, because we all have it... </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i>MJ</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Jumping off the stairs she lands on all fours and for a moment she resembles a monkey. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">In her crouched position she is paused... her mind is still, whilst her h</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">air cascades across her face, but through the breaks, I see big grey, green eyes, and as her black lashes blink, robot like, she begins to stand.</span></div><p></p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">It's been a while but another Character waits to enter <i>The Loft..</i>. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Leaning against the wall I relax into my folded arms. I decide to wait for her to speak. I'm usually the communicator, the one who draws them out of their shells, but I decide for this one I need to spend time observing, for future reference. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">There is something intriguing about her. The character seems familiar, but I'm sure I've never met her before. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"May I speak?" She whispers,</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"Of course"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"I'm lost, I don't know where I am" visibly, she shivers.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"This is <i>The Loft, </i>where people come to wait"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"Wait?" She queries</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"Yes, it's like a half way house, where you spend time before you're included into a writers world" and with that explanation out of the hat I smugly hug myself tighter, feeling secure that my explanation is enough. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Silence... Confusion...</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"Why would I come here to go into a story? I don't understand, I want to go home"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i>Flummoxed, I'm confused now...</i></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"But you are home, anyone who lands here usually wants to stay, although, I did once have a couple who decided to leave, however, it's highly unusual"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This will never do, I thought, sensing my own irritability...</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"But I'm not a character to be placed into a book, I'm me, I just don't know where I came from, I feel so confused, but I know who I am, and I don't think I want to be inserted with words, in-between pages"</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">(Silence)</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">My mind works over-time, I'll have to let her work through this.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"My name's Mary, she offers, I'm a good person, I'm clever, I studied hard and have a degree in philosophy and English Literature. My life seems real hazy right now, and I feel fearful because my mind is overwhelmingly foggy about everything else"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Its ok Mary, it'll all become clear, I promise... and being someone important in a writers mind isn't for everyone, sometimes it's something you'll grow into, sometimes it can be something you help your writer with, quite often writers need a helping hand to grow their characters, and that's where you'd be the perfect asset, I watch as her demeanour softens, you're going to love your new job, Mary, we can take it easy, and go at your pace, if it's not for you, then you can leave at any time, but usually, once here, you'll want to stay. <i>The Loft</i> is warm, inviting, interesting and that amazing degree you've worked hard for, it'll be helpful, because that means you're a communicator, and there are some characters in <i>The Loft </i>who definitely need help" with another warm smile, I wink in her direction. </span></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"I like to help, I love getting to know people and I especially like to understand others, hence my philosophy knowledge" she looks up towards the top of the winding stairs, where those double doors beckon to all of my clients, and the characters who nestle there know that at some point I'll need them. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"Maybe I'll stop for a little while then, she looks at me and asks, what's your name?"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"It's Mary-Jane, but my friends call me MJ"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"Ah she cries, no wonder I've grown to like you, we share our first name"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"Why what's your second name" I ask,</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And as I watch her face, I smile, knowing her realisation is but a word away... </span></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"My second name is, Jane" she splutters...</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><div style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Sometimes you don't have to understand the way of the land, often times, acceptance is the key, but never think writers are lonely, because we're not...</i></div><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">MJ Ewen </span><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-70463470329217783652022-11-23T16:50:00.000+00:002022-11-23T16:50:02.208+00:00The Lake... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfo3xVkAlLp7nNrELzjF2pikG3OtblcKVYAPqaKFViOuQsc_NLoPzuZFs6zkFXfAABzrjS0oaOnSDmn-pXYe8Ykm4I-q-0aTnbXrZqYio132OZNH1WS7GhY5vECtEFj8QkpF5gHtfLHlSyo7Ny547NjyqoZ9T03Pq--nzEHp2iPs9C3CvMOOFgtKQQ2Q/s374/Blog%2023%20Nov%20Picture.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="374" data-original-width="370" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfo3xVkAlLp7nNrELzjF2pikG3OtblcKVYAPqaKFViOuQsc_NLoPzuZFs6zkFXfAABzrjS0oaOnSDmn-pXYe8Ykm4I-q-0aTnbXrZqYio132OZNH1WS7GhY5vECtEFj8QkpF5gHtfLHlSyo7Ny547NjyqoZ9T03Pq--nzEHp2iPs9C3CvMOOFgtKQQ2Q/s320/Blog%2023%20Nov%20Picture.jpg" width="317" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: 16px;">Detective Emily Crawford leans forward as she watches her diver disappear beneath the calm, shimmering lake. The only evidence that he'd been there, were his air bubbles. </span></div><p></p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">The call came in at 9:05am.</span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Sylvia's voice, shaky, dials the number for the police. She lowers herself behind a big oak tree... terrified, he mustn't see her. S</span></span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">he whispers her information and the lakes terrible secret, into the mouth piece. </span></span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-family: trebuchet;">The phone signal isn't</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: trebuchet;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"> that great, it cuts out... she hopes they've heard. and before she scampers away, she looks back across the lake and almost cries out, as she realises who it is. </span></span><div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Sylvia had been walking, enjoying the early morning sun. Her binoculars pinpoint the woods, beautiful birds, who as usual, search frantically for food. Sylvia stops to look, as she hears the boat chugging its way towards the middle of the lake, nothing unusual about that except it stops, and the engine cuts-out. Peering through her binoculars, she watches as the hooded figure looks around, it takes a minute or so before he bends down to retrieve something from the floor of his boat. </span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Her long black hair hangs over his arm. He's strong, he holds her up high, kisses her, and then drops her into the lake, and he viciously pushes her under the water, she sinks immediately, which must mean she's weighed down. </span></span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">Sylvia, reaches home... and with a squeaky voice which sounds breathless, she explains she is scared, yet despite this she grips the phone tight. She's being questioned, and then she tells the lady Detective, that she knows who it is, she saw him clearly through her binoculars...</span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">"Who is it?" The Detective asks, impatiently.</span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">But before Sylvia answers, there's a hell of a bang, she screams into the phone... Emily Crawford, still on the line knows whoever is there with Sylvia, isn't paying a friendly visit. </span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">Sylvia, shouts,</span></span></div><div><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"> "It's you, oh my god, MICHAEL MORRISON" she screams in terror as the phone is knocked out of her hand. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">One blow to her small delicate head, is all it takes. </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">and then silence... </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">Detective Emily Crawford, listens further, Sylvia had gone quiet, but she hears whosoever's there pick up the phone, and she knows they're listening... Emily, switches off the call and quickly rings through for back up, advising, she'd be there as soon as she was through at the lake. </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">Within minutes, Emily sees the diver beneath the lakes, murky water, he has a body in his arms...</span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">MJ Ewen</span></span></div></div>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-64558994599718167252022-11-19T14:49:00.001+00:002022-11-19T14:49:41.403+00:00Aleta... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5k5Slp8de1kpDoJp9HhIL73xYD9pcb2asCOX-BzParnPUu0cLREz__wxjQYgijzz0Asot4uZmZLxjzxU49Wb7LZqKw9ayjEYPQx4JE3iU12ohjA0eo067m0_bhQU72c1QKFRBpaekstjR6AH1C6Cc-UEM9fgntBBAz_IrUFV-v_AtjRMwqbGp4OtYjA/s296/Glamourous%20Blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="296" data-original-width="236" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5k5Slp8de1kpDoJp9HhIL73xYD9pcb2asCOX-BzParnPUu0cLREz__wxjQYgijzz0Asot4uZmZLxjzxU49Wb7LZqKw9ayjEYPQx4JE3iU12ohjA0eo067m0_bhQU72c1QKFRBpaekstjR6AH1C6Cc-UEM9fgntBBAz_IrUFV-v_AtjRMwqbGp4OtYjA/w252-h345/Glamourous%20Blog.jpg" width="252" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">The Loft is a place in my mind where my characters begin, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">and stay until they have a job... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">Glamorous, pink and fluffy, with lots of ding-a-ma-bling, startled, black eyebrows, </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">false lashes, and lashings of blood red lipstick. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Architects Daughter"; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">Yeah you got it... </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Architects Daughter"; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">I may have a little problem here.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Architects Daughter";"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Architects Daughter";">She came with the loudest noise. I heard her before I saw her, and then I began to wish she wasn’t here. That’s how I felt when I caught sight of my latest Character, who had recently joined us at '</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Architects Daughter";">The Loft</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Architects Daughter";">' in my mind... Talk about flamboyant, loud and brash. She looks like she belongs on a float in a carnival, and here she is, ordering everyone around, as if she owns the place. I ask her to be respectful of others, but my goodness the look she gave sent shivers down my spine, however, it did render her speechless, and I’m guessing that doesn’t happen often.</span></div><p></p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">I introduce myself, and ask her name... her response makes me smile. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">“They call me Aleta, she shouts"</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;">On seeing my quizzical expression, her animated eyes roll to the back of her head, but she carry's on regardless...</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;">“Aleta, Aleta, Aleta, but here’s the funny part, it means, Truthful... Mythological Goddess of Truth, but listen hunny-bunny, and you take it from me, I aint that” she huffs and chuffs... throws her head back, </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">laughing like a crazed hyena. I thought, Oh my lord, what the heck am I going to do with this one?</span></span><div><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">Looking up to the double doors of the loft, I see a few characters smile peevishly, as they close the doors, quietly.. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">Oh no, they obviously don't want her in... I think I feel a tantrum coming. </span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">~MJ Ewen~</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">(A re-edit from 2014) Image from Pinterest </span></span></div>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-39810012373255295552022-11-14T15:44:00.002+00:002022-11-14T15:44:52.098+00:00Lets all Be Kind... <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijIJeq7uc8ozTv9ApIyJC9TjIWYcVjitkCovJtHgiZ6eJeKsiBfchehvCKBGCQpi4knyvQgC4EvAfR8FaVNTMlYSzmy_wWmHW-F9HKrrD3sNtk8B1DtpfynimYCO-9Z5oHqjOgfOuo4NJK_GYe-HUFwA6hvCnzZVgXRtjuK5xXVefqkLBy_A5MeEG7Sg/s640/861322df7e7c076525b5b8a3b5672e64.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="453" height="337" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijIJeq7uc8ozTv9ApIyJC9TjIWYcVjitkCovJtHgiZ6eJeKsiBfchehvCKBGCQpi4knyvQgC4EvAfR8FaVNTMlYSzmy_wWmHW-F9HKrrD3sNtk8B1DtpfynimYCO-9Z5oHqjOgfOuo4NJK_GYe-HUFwA6hvCnzZVgXRtjuK5xXVefqkLBy_A5MeEG7Sg/w297-h337/861322df7e7c076525b5b8a3b5672e64.jpg" width="297" /></a></div><p></p><div style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I live for the moments I can put Magic into my words.... </span></div><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Whilst watching TV today, I was reminded of the Be Kind Campaign.<br /><br />My heart went out to the mum's who'd lost their children to suicide, and how their deaths were due to being relentlessly bullied in school... by their peers. Young people, who were just like them, and who continued to hurt these beautiful souls. <br /><br />I was also bullied as a child, and not just in school. I would leave an abusive home and vomit on my way to school, because I was fearful of the constant barrage of abuse in all of my locations. </span></div><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Physical, and mental. <br /><br />I'm older now, and often wonder how I recovered...<br /><br />Thankfully I was removed from the abuse, and it was said I survived because somehow I became resilient, and able to distance myself. I was one of the lucky ones, and healed. But, its super important for us all to be good role-models, and show our babies, and our young people that being kind, gentle, and compassionate, is the only way to be. It's also true that being kind is much better for us and our own well-being, than it is to be unkind, and nasty. <br /><br />Do not be responsible for hurting hearts and souls, or for making others feel like they don't want to be here... we're all connected, we just need to remember that we really do rise when we lift others.</span></div><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">for those of us following the Be Kind Movement...</span></div><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />Be Kind was established in 2015 with the aim of <b>celebrating and amplifying the power of kindness through education</b>. Our passion lies in developing emotional intelligence (EQ) skills using the medium of film to influence, impact and embed 10 values of kindness in children and young people.<br /><br /><a fg_scanned="1" href="https://www.bekindmovement.co.uk/" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="color: blue; cursor: pointer;" target="_blank">https://www.bekindmovement.co.uk/</a> </span></div><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">MJ Ewen</span></div><div><br /></div>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-66117946695163006822022-10-31T13:49:00.001+00:002022-10-31T13:49:21.215+00:00Halloween Magic...<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLlOdGjUD9pmOjaWcLBDCh239QeD9_PLI0KkL7AqqrWIB1xvNdACq51fD4SfkR50dXxJZ0D2ngyMmCdtl86kwmzXMSIXTmrI4D1zcC37ff622uYI8iqVpNjPl4FoYSMScPo8p4iVLRf4C_ggzUZYEmpd_rJAa-LJ_pvyieAdYjtv-t8_nsDKLLZHwJg/s1200/1beba568c300ff668ffd464489355b1c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="674" height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLlOdGjUD9pmOjaWcLBDCh239QeD9_PLI0KkL7AqqrWIB1xvNdACq51fD4SfkR50dXxJZ0D2ngyMmCdtl86kwmzXMSIXTmrI4D1zcC37ff622uYI8iqVpNjPl4FoYSMScPo8p4iVLRf4C_ggzUZYEmpd_rJAa-LJ_pvyieAdYjtv-t8_nsDKLLZHwJg/w267-h364/1beba568c300ff668ffd464489355b1c.jpg" width="267" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He thought he'd got away... </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He'd called me strange, told me I was weird, and that nobody would want me... but, he was wrong, and eventually he would see how wrong he'd been. <br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Time is of the essence, and your essence will be mine.</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br />There are certain things that don't come easy, and Patience is one of them, but it is written that I have to wait, Why? because there is distinct detail in the small print, and today is the day I Grow into my Magic. It's the time for those little finalities which are needed to seal deals. Halloween is my time to initiate the start of getting what I want. And, what I must have... is him. <br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Wait, watch, and weep...</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Let my magic begin. </span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">MJ Ewen </span></div></div><div><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /></div>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-40951778902153594902022-10-24T15:43:00.002+01:002022-10-24T15:43:55.276+01:00Invisible...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg76Cw1cAdlhuLdxKQkOR0SpHavXLTOFZ_lCj_B4c9I0Evo_OOiEdksWES7zun_mViVTj9fnqbMlLzphlqR59B5T35Lt-GZCf9uf_IZj-hhmDYIOJaZSPuQuk4pu_BL_ywBdrqj1s5c5M6b2X6Jvkysjy-w9SCL6cvOxH31fAXqxTJgDSG2Q06im2bvmQ/s374/270a21b11e3f3f07fd045227b4c078e0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="374" data-original-width="278" height="349" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg76Cw1cAdlhuLdxKQkOR0SpHavXLTOFZ_lCj_B4c9I0Evo_OOiEdksWES7zun_mViVTj9fnqbMlLzphlqR59B5T35Lt-GZCf9uf_IZj-hhmDYIOJaZSPuQuk4pu_BL_ywBdrqj1s5c5M6b2X6Jvkysjy-w9SCL6cvOxH31fAXqxTJgDSG2Q06im2bvmQ/w261-h349/270a21b11e3f3f07fd045227b4c078e0.jpg" width="261" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">A day for turning the invisible into reality... come on, we've got this!</span></span></div><p></p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;">Invisibility isn't always a choice, sometimes it's thrust upon us... but, not in her case.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">She wants invisibility. She's craved it for as long as she can remember. She needs to melt into the background. Her intentions, never honourable, her mindset itched, and irritated the whole of her being. Her hands commit the most heinous crimes... her brain invents them. Come hurry, she has things to do.</span></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;">Invisibility is perfect for her.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;">The problem is... the things she does are not good, they're bad... real bad. She needs an invisible veil to hide behind because nobody, and I mean nobody, must see what she gets up to.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;">Do not put yourself on her radar... never initiate eye contact, keep your distance and definitely, never, ever, smile in her direction. </span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;">MJ Ewen</span></span>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-18890761050857307112022-10-17T15:17:00.003+01:002022-10-17T16:47:15.698+01:00The Bridge... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggxYqBt8IOL2ERCZjVXLD6MyED31xVWBFt7OjMAcvcG04noDyE9vHTZqZrncaIIdo8x9okfUV83wfws8ydhYNoMz9KclwWF0lhvW2L9K-pQupGP5KLE4vtlUN5sH-a9IY1aaw7GE9AtrUYtbF4YbE-r5kzoD9OObsZkQFBS_bfWAFnvX_VSDENQO3y0Q/s750/1ffa2714ee055832cb79d6e923294828.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="519" height="357" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggxYqBt8IOL2ERCZjVXLD6MyED31xVWBFt7OjMAcvcG04noDyE9vHTZqZrncaIIdo8x9okfUV83wfws8ydhYNoMz9KclwWF0lhvW2L9K-pQupGP5KLE4vtlUN5sH-a9IY1aaw7GE9AtrUYtbF4YbE-r5kzoD9OObsZkQFBS_bfWAFnvX_VSDENQO3y0Q/w256-h357/1ffa2714ee055832cb79d6e923294828.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;">There is a bridge.... You know the one.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: start;" /></div></div><p></p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">In its width, it holds 3 narrow planks. In its length, lies forever. To walk on it you have to hold on to the sides because if you don't, you'll fall. It's shaky. It's dangerous. But my love, you like danger, you live a dangerous life, don't you? The bridge is in the contract... its ok, don't look so concerned, just know it requires me to cross with you. </span><br /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">I'm a good person but you drained me. </span><br /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">I wanted nothing but the best for you, for me, for us. </span><br /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">Your life wasn't what I thought it would be. So whilst we wait for the inevitable, please tell me why you loved me so hard, or at least why you pretended to love me? </span><div><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">You took everything. </span></div><div><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">I'm a shell of the woman you met. </span></div><div><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">You stole my kindness, my goodness, my heart, and my life. </span></div><div><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">But listen to this you heartless, despicable excuse for a human-being, I'm going to make sure you never do to anyone else what you did to me. You'll never love another, you won't ever be able to pretend to love. You'll never live that life. </span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">I'm going to kill everything about you. You think you've eliminated me, but all you did was start a process as you disposed off my body. I laugh, because all along you had no idea what you were dealing with. It's people like you who need teaching a lesson, and once I knew what you were up-to, I made a pact. </span></span></div><div><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Oh how my heart died a thousand times, as I fought off your dirty intentions. You'll never know the love you could have received.</span></span><br /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">It's a shame, but I'm going to kill you.</span><br /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">With your death a light will ignite. It will right the wrongs you did to me, and the world... so you see, there really are good people. We have our own laws and they correspond to all that's right.</span><br /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Come nearer... no closer, I need you to see me. Come see what you've turned me into, here, in this seedy world of your darkness... you stripped me bare. A lovely girl who was already battered and bruised... a girl who dreamed of her forever love. </span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Did it feel good when you defiled me, and when you throttled me after, did that help? and when you cut me, did that do something for you that no one else could? </span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">My god, I couldn't believe it when the the world lit up as the blood drained from my body... it was warm, sweet and sticky, the light grew brighter, but as the door you unlatched to my soul flew open, out I strode.</span></span><br /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">You were too busy dissecting other parts of me to know I stood right behind you, watching, waiting. </span></div><div><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">Tears escaped for the beautiful girl you killed, but no worries as my smile widened for the creature you borned. You had no idea what you'd done... I knew you would never be rid of me, you'd beg, and plead, but it would never matter... I was yours now, for all eternity, our contract, signed... this was the punishment for your repeated, horrendous crimes. </span></div><div><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">The incredible thing is, you were dying before I'd even done the deed.</span><br /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;"><div style="text-align: left;">MJ Ewen </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">mage from Pinterest</div></span></div></div><p></p></div><div><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><p></p></div>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-74734080932813385212022-09-23T14:27:00.000+01:002022-09-23T14:27:24.323+01:00Destiny Calls... <p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3dLM83ozmfhpVqYPjUUKhidcnJMn4Rqa3-EYnMzi-pWBZe0EPOdTN44XrSYw3rJOu2Yd2zgspUkToXCwt4dctxDGHk5CLzEhi2F-HlGrkI1HYVYc9_Gqd1sZ_NTZMPemRuZfjWPkXLps0IgNHtREikwA1c5pUN223T-tJTmWSJWEq43hsaqzClZgKog/s1200/Blog%20Post%2023%2009%2022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="674" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3dLM83ozmfhpVqYPjUUKhidcnJMn4Rqa3-EYnMzi-pWBZe0EPOdTN44XrSYw3rJOu2Yd2zgspUkToXCwt4dctxDGHk5CLzEhi2F-HlGrkI1HYVYc9_Gqd1sZ_NTZMPemRuZfjWPkXLps0IgNHtREikwA1c5pUN223T-tJTmWSJWEq43hsaqzClZgKog/w257-h359/Blog%20Post%2023%2009%2022.jpg" width="257" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">The last sound I heard were my screams... ... ... ...</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">I've been waiting... sometimes you have to wait, watch, and believe. </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">You made a promise, so now you must keep it. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Architects Daughter"; font-size: 16px;">A sharp intake of breath made his body stiffen. Tilting his handsome head, he asked,</span></p><div><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">"Do I know you?"</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter"; font-size: 16px;">"You do, I said, we met a thousand years ago and I told you, we'd meet again"</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /><span style="font-size: 16px;">gazing into my eyes he moves closer...</span><br /><br />I knew he loved my answer, I had him. Yes. Hook, line and sinker. I allowed my arms to rest loosely by my side, I luxuriated in the silence and waited for my prize. <br /><br /><span style="font-size: 16px;">Wetting his lips, his desire emanated.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 16px;">There are moments in life w</span><span style="font-size: 16px;">hen we take opportunities which present themselves. This was one of those moments... </span>I loved that I knew what was happening. The alarming thing is he didn't know me, but I knew him. I'd know him anywhere. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br />Destiny beckons.. and I am it's willing victim. An adventure's about to begin. I open my arms out wide to welcome him in. <br /><br /><span style="font-size: 16px;">MJ Ewen</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 16px;"> </span></span></div><div><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /></div>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-87523660450818467082022-09-13T16:38:00.001+01:002022-09-13T16:38:46.945+01:00The Book-Corner... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEFJW-RNuDKbU1dNxBgL-aYwhcsq834sRkuoaDeqet9DneqQr8KAJRKqggYLgY465S2qQiU7YTHufqQ-ijH_hPbGnvrV7-wfoGrOK3XUA1FNke0eRzHtl0WGDxr7fvjNT_1edvJN5SllRB_qic0Tnl-eUECD5GDnumWNCkw2wudWQ6xELoYlACXxhUmw/s926/866d2b85b0a2d783ea613c040de98a3f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="926" data-original-width="537" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEFJW-RNuDKbU1dNxBgL-aYwhcsq834sRkuoaDeqet9DneqQr8KAJRKqggYLgY465S2qQiU7YTHufqQ-ijH_hPbGnvrV7-wfoGrOK3XUA1FNke0eRzHtl0WGDxr7fvjNT_1edvJN5SllRB_qic0Tnl-eUECD5GDnumWNCkw2wudWQ6xELoYlACXxhUmw/w226-h341/866d2b85b0a2d783ea613c040de98a3f.jpg" width="226" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">The Book-Corner...</span></span></div><p></p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">The quaint little bookshop which unapologetically, spread over a whole corner, smelled of paper, ink, creamy coffee, and vanilla sponge. The door to this delightful building, made a high-pitched tinkle sound, whenever a customer walked in. Her old walls reeked of history, and its windows had witnessed many stories. <br /><span style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span><div><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><span style="font-size: 16px;">The owner, a beautiful soul... whose special, exquisiteness, is timeless. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span><div><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><span style="font-size: 16px;">Her extraordinary story was being put together in a special project, and she was right in the middle of it's management. Her knowledge of books, writers and publishers, is astounding. Her monthly meetings that help motivate, and encourage editors to congregate around her brass, polished tables, make her smile. Ideas bounce around waiting for input. </span><span style="font-size: 16px;">She's generous by nature and patient by choice... Places she's been, and characters she's met, have all played a part in her world of words. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 16px;">Almost everyone who walks through those bookshop doors, brings a wealth of knowledge which their usually willing to share... but those that don't, well, they have a rather different story to tell. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 16px;">"If I take my pen and write my story, will you grace me with your presence?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 16px;">MJ Ewen</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Image from Pinterest. <br /></span><div><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;" /></div></div></div>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-19883920567743796922022-08-23T11:49:00.003+01:002022-08-23T12:23:27.806+01:00Find Me... <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd8UgeH3zjjs_1gDh-2TjeA88ACiPjYriIdoeY2sfJfRT0i7JKY9WD1MAB7rpgbJVNgvqq3uuMc-SVfXGXTObipaC3weHbMYB6YXj5h1hi6xbL2H323L528X4DBKc8kpHtG22jQJTLkYmOJuUs39uCRXda2tFZuAkr3SKmFoA3QvkKUck3IEvXtGauCw/s640/b83631d91dbb4dfdbb74624352b5796c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="455" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd8UgeH3zjjs_1gDh-2TjeA88ACiPjYriIdoeY2sfJfRT0i7JKY9WD1MAB7rpgbJVNgvqq3uuMc-SVfXGXTObipaC3weHbMYB6YXj5h1hi6xbL2H323L528X4DBKc8kpHtG22jQJTLkYmOJuUs39uCRXda2tFZuAkr3SKmFoA3QvkKUck3IEvXtGauCw/s320/b83631d91dbb4dfdbb74624352b5796c.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Image shared from Pinterest </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i>She's tiny, a frail looking child who will tell you she's a woman, and unfortunately she behaves like one. except for when she remembers. When she remembers, the veil drops and she disappears. </i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Her whisper came through gritted teeth... I live in my minds eye and I'll stay here until it's safe to come out. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Why is it not safe?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Because his hand is firmly fixed on the back of my neck, he's waiting until I emerge, then he'll kill me. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I don't see anybody.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">He's a shadow...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I still don't see.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">He's an invisible shadow, he's been attached to me for most of my life.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Does he have a name?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Yes, he's called Daddy.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Your father wants to kill you?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Yes.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">How about we work on getting your father to let go?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">He won't, he told me that would never happen.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">People say things, they change their minds and things happen to reflect that change, shall we at least have a go?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Her eyes dart to the furthest corner of the room, her voice cracks.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">No, I'm scared, I don't want to die. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">MJ Ewen </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p></p>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-38580438606244311112022-08-15T13:21:00.000+01:002022-08-15T13:21:15.402+01:00 What About Connection...<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: helvetica; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TxYiX1yglTx4izO66FjkM1eKQXpAgFloif2EyrSWBt1zJn_EZ8xSNZFfcPmYWPgPdvmxFeoFh4pcd95NdOwSBnw47KE716a0GayCgXvByYzsWELvtrYLsoAFOC3EgqJNOoHWn3GMGy8BlHUokL98OeofZjtCu382YCw6lfftHSbeoBUF3I0yuA4vmA/s1308/021c75b7e5c713ae5fe3d222e184c2d5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1308" data-original-width="736" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TxYiX1yglTx4izO66FjkM1eKQXpAgFloif2EyrSWBt1zJn_EZ8xSNZFfcPmYWPgPdvmxFeoFh4pcd95NdOwSBnw47KE716a0GayCgXvByYzsWELvtrYLsoAFOC3EgqJNOoHWn3GMGy8BlHUokL98OeofZjtCu382YCw6lfftHSbeoBUF3I0yuA4vmA/w181-h373/021c75b7e5c713ae5fe3d222e184c2d5.jpg" width="181" /></a></div>Image Shared from Pinterest</i></div></span><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 16px; text-align: left;"><b><i>'Talking out loud often brings results'</i> </b></span></p><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">As for me, I liken myself to an in-</span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">betweener... I'm not an Author, or even a well-known Writer, I didn't receive a good education, and from the moment I was born, childhood was challenging. Most of what I know is self taught, but, I do have a dream. </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">However, from my experience, unless you're a celebrity or a well known writer, it doesn't seem to matter if your on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, a Blogger, or you're putting the time in, sharing yourself and work etc, it doesn't always bring in new followers, interesting comments, ideas, or increase communication. I do wonder if</span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"> its' because I'm not paying to get myself out there... or because I don’t pay to increase followers. Could my posts be hidden, or is it that others are not interested? And, if you do pay for followers, are they real? </span></span></div><div><span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 16px;">You can't buy Authenticity. </span></span></div><div><span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">Genuine posts from the heart are wonderful, sharing yourself is great, but if I'm honest and I cant be alone in this, quite often it feels as if I'm talking to myself. </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">I'm not </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">well published, but I am working on a couple of long term projects, I follow and engage with others, and I always try to keep things up to date. Despite all of the above I'm in it for the long haul, those of you who know what I'm talking about, know that it's something inside that's almost impossible to describe. Even if I've got what it takes, or not, I simply must write.</span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">There has to be a secret to improve ones communication skills, so if I am missing something out, honestly, I would be grateful for a thumbs up, and I promise to follow constructive advice. Writing is a thing I love doing alone, however, its nice to share snippets. </span></span></div><div><span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-family: helvetica;">Opinions, advice and support, really do matter. I don't just want to write, I want to connect. </span></span></div><div><span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 16px;">There are times we want answers, and other times we don't... Maybe on this occasion I shouldn't hold my breath.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;"></span>Until next time!<br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px;" /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 16px;">MJ Ewen </span></span></div>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-4036403953833532352022-08-10T13:32:00.003+01:002022-08-10T18:29:30.482+01:00Her Darkness...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9d1QEFDpiYqL1QyDlbyyDbYrgCXRe2wi8pgAow2oytfHTqIFsfv5oqQD3qe6stIQ5OXYuiSZo6ZT12PxZ-hcFNvOSlFhxkUt3Dk9C2oHm02s79XTmree56C1oxsv9UDoeN6U7ZbBQjFIEiQRmA2sZdsn_B6kn6iVRYqtJMfG0FEcskpUB83QwsBXHqw/s750/Blog%2010%2010%2022.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="436" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9d1QEFDpiYqL1QyDlbyyDbYrgCXRe2wi8pgAow2oytfHTqIFsfv5oqQD3qe6stIQ5OXYuiSZo6ZT12PxZ-hcFNvOSlFhxkUt3Dk9C2oHm02s79XTmree56C1oxsv9UDoeN6U7ZbBQjFIEiQRmA2sZdsn_B6kn6iVRYqtJMfG0FEcskpUB83QwsBXHqw/w215-h343/Blog%2010%2010%2022.jpg" width="215" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Image from Pinterest</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">To look, you wouldn’t think she had a dark mind. But she has…</span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Over the years, darkness had collected pockets of light and mercifully this was her salvation, her enlightenment, which usually turned out to be her get
out of jail card. She always thought the journey would be filled with mist and
overrun with negativity, but she was proved wrong when those pockets of light appeared.
In each mysterious pocket, there lived a century of light, love, laughter and despite
any darkness, there was a rich history. It turns out she had a billion
topics to explore, a million journeys to live, with a thousand loves, to love. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">She was luckier than most, and learned, not just from her own
mistakes, she also learned from others. She deemed that responsible
for the keys to her life, and she knew, those who touched her life were the
locks that held her keys so snugly. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">She used the dark for many things, her stories are endless... and I recall she told me
several times that the dark can be scary, but I was to remember how it could also be
comforting. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">MJ Ewen </span><o:p></o:p></p>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-78598928812177634582022-07-24T12:05:00.000+01:002022-07-24T12:05:06.289+01:00The Investigation... <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcU8KwNWRNe5n6bVxYDfQ5_IICzE2tKm1XBZfGVIBQNIp5L7pRn1vst67OKkxSnotgeaTsfAalJewzTVJZtKBAuwK9OGOx_bJzSvMoS22O23V0lxUriM35yhItQOyGaAhmNGGTQBdGO62oL1mrlML0sjox0y8oIP6RLEnYzat5lvvow75JKJ-E_j_kiA/s828/75433ce41e5ef3ecb5b7590fce3c1107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="828" data-original-width="550" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcU8KwNWRNe5n6bVxYDfQ5_IICzE2tKm1XBZfGVIBQNIp5L7pRn1vst67OKkxSnotgeaTsfAalJewzTVJZtKBAuwK9OGOx_bJzSvMoS22O23V0lxUriM35yhItQOyGaAhmNGGTQBdGO62oL1mrlML0sjox0y8oIP6RLEnYzat5lvvow75JKJ-E_j_kiA/s320/75433ce41e5ef3ecb5b7590fce3c1107.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Image from Pinterest</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Meet Alan King. Private Detective... Smokes like a trouper. A lover of the under-dog. He loves coffee, although prefers whiskey, engages well with the female of the species, but cant help himself, hes old school, and relaxes more with the boys. Nothing ever surprises him, hes seen and heard it all. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Love this character, and not surprisingly, Chapter 8 belongs to him. I'm having to take a bit of time out to research criminology and crime dating back to the 1930's. I have to be honest, I'm out of my depth on this subject, but I'm determined to research, to make sure I give it a good shot. (fingers-crossed)</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Already I'm racing ahead, cant wait to get into the other chapters however, I endevour to practice self discipline, I need to do it right. So much done, yet so much to do...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Have a great week ahead and until sometime soon... </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";">MJ </span></div><p></p>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-87145391231020508082022-07-16T13:29:00.003+01:002022-07-16T13:29:35.742+01:00I Write for Two Reasons... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifh-ssXdEBIiZ25yEaFixllZf9kUCnq6cx3ozn6-TnVKG-RkzLNwTGkCBoydeMBgvIBbSsWfFvZqu6iiK7EuLQjFffzNQ32N5xY_EHLS5fB6FiPG52vhKdWxIMbEJIH5lmHMgw41h6C0cFkeUSlez1BVd0l-wDI0rYK-uokFELYKON02BtE3iQskzOHg/s876/3c2f443d9af02a256014b34262d1ff63.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="876" data-original-width="717" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifh-ssXdEBIiZ25yEaFixllZf9kUCnq6cx3ozn6-TnVKG-RkzLNwTGkCBoydeMBgvIBbSsWfFvZqu6iiK7EuLQjFffzNQ32N5xY_EHLS5fB6FiPG52vhKdWxIMbEJIH5lmHMgw41h6C0cFkeUSlez1BVd0l-wDI0rYK-uokFELYKON02BtE3iQskzOHg/s320/3c2f443d9af02a256014b34262d1ff63.jpg" width="262" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Image from Pinterest</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Not everyone writes for fame and fortune, although, if it happened, it would be all well and good... I write for me, and to try and perfect the craft. I do wish I'd started sooner, but it wasn't possible. I'm thoroughly enjoying the journey, and that's all that matters. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Another day working on Chapter 8. I'm finding this part in the story a little challenging, due to needing to know procedures for murder cases, and then there's a time constraint. But I'll get there. And hopefully, if its worth publishing, I'm sure I will have the right people around me for help, and support.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">The buzz it gives me as I plod along is soul satisfying, it seems, this is what I was born to do... </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Take care in the Heat-Wave this weekend... Have fun! </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">MJ </span></div><p></p>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-17813465587506947762022-07-13T13:47:00.000+01:002022-07-13T13:47:02.281+01:00Flames of Passion... <p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih5xEVHrk-p0rY9tw_1G4rt_nE9QRHARtxCCKsrSGAYKYFy1RdjCc6zAZsZpyfWFeUxxbf3DNxpJWxyIwcoaKrCsS8MIKKWQBTJP7ghgBG6-1SZCzxAuRBWOVCa9GHyLjmWLAmM8RqGWQbgpq9C1E5-z1P8uhueLmCFrQ11yDS_s-6EuMy9Q7MZUvfow/s604/dbb1024a96c499b39600076ac508c163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="439" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih5xEVHrk-p0rY9tw_1G4rt_nE9QRHARtxCCKsrSGAYKYFy1RdjCc6zAZsZpyfWFeUxxbf3DNxpJWxyIwcoaKrCsS8MIKKWQBTJP7ghgBG6-1SZCzxAuRBWOVCa9GHyLjmWLAmM8RqGWQbgpq9C1E5-z1P8uhueLmCFrQ11yDS_s-6EuMy9Q7MZUvfow/s320/dbb1024a96c499b39600076ac508c163.jpg" width="233" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">He had my name on him, so why did he choose her?</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Isabelle is struggling with what she witnessed in the club last night, watching Alma and Shay together, isn't what she needed. This... she is quick to remind me, will end in tears. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">If ever there was a character who was persistent in my ear, its this one. Isabelle doesn't leave anything alone, she's like a dog with a bone, and pecks away at you. However, I cannot let her in right now, because I have to complete Chapter 7, and commence Chapter 8, with the investigation around the murder of Alma's father. If I'm honest, I think I could write a whole book on Isabelle, shes turned out to be an amazing character, with a lot to offer. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Today the word count must be high, and if I see flames of passion rise from my finger tips as they fly over the keys, I will be one happy writer. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">I might add that right now I have company, Jiminy Cricket has joined me, and today he sits on my shoulder. It's always great to have someone who believes in you. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Until next time... </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">MJ Ewen <br /></span><br /> </p>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-24943427360177771022022-07-12T18:38:00.001+01:002022-07-12T18:38:08.651+01:00Alma Essie... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiUe7gbKqzLRW1O6K84LNuuTtAdQ2pBX0d-v73I9rWe9Wx0vGrNNRkAZLEBEsTYUk-ZgdFVTOHuKe_3m6sfCVya0RVOZAx5N4Ukb6EWd_OBJKXlGwisZu1Fen5Afac6Fp9PORpcgfcZSJPepuh4ImZahcPmsBssAADn4Du9XE9lcHol2stnZGNR6N0w/s1138/473ac98292ada07e9619eb350c1e9d2a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1138" data-original-width="736" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiUe7gbKqzLRW1O6K84LNuuTtAdQ2pBX0d-v73I9rWe9Wx0vGrNNRkAZLEBEsTYUk-ZgdFVTOHuKe_3m6sfCVya0RVOZAx5N4Ukb6EWd_OBJKXlGwisZu1Fen5Afac6Fp9PORpcgfcZSJPepuh4ImZahcPmsBssAADn4Du9XE9lcHol2stnZGNR6N0w/w234-h343/473ac98292ada07e9619eb350c1e9d2a.jpg" width="234" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><div style="text-align: center;">Image shared from Pinterest.</div></span> <p></p><p><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";">The year is 1946. </span><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Alma Essie, and Shay Connor, have hit it off big time. It seems for twenty two year old Alma, this is going to be her year for events, and happenings. She is a big part of Chapter 7 which really belongs to Shay, but in telling their story I felt they needed to be together. There are problems, as in most stories, but there are also promises. I've almost finished the first draft of Chapter 7, It's been a delight to do, but then I discovered I like to write romance, and new beginnings. It's even better with a psychopath in the wings, who goes by the name of Isabelle Mills. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Who knows where this journey is going to go...</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Until next time soon. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";">MJ Ewen </span></p>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-66387487998711423382022-07-07T14:59:00.002+01:002022-07-07T14:59:45.981+01:00Shay Connor... <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpH_Hp_A3UmcvyUX0MY1HdGdFMYzteCvRepSZxj3uo6rbSq3pyKyBx7zJksQn1JL2P0-FOfrv0c78s6maSsMGEINhtHXYOa4aZOpAPft5tmx-T29DvB01-lCPxe5QtQ-OaKBj1jJHXa6ztc-YXBpil9zmhbOX9H-h7jvOj5oDQiA0H8bqNVmYAgp_bqA/s900/Shay%20Connor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="720" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpH_Hp_A3UmcvyUX0MY1HdGdFMYzteCvRepSZxj3uo6rbSq3pyKyBx7zJksQn1JL2P0-FOfrv0c78s6maSsMGEINhtHXYOa4aZOpAPft5tmx-T29DvB01-lCPxe5QtQ-OaKBj1jJHXa6ztc-YXBpil9zmhbOX9H-h7jvOj5oDQiA0H8bqNVmYAgp_bqA/w256-h348/Shay%20Connor.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">One and a half great days where I've been able to focus fully on Chapter 7. Both days produced good word-counts, but today's has been outstanding... I felt as if there was tremendous heat being produced from my finger tips, and my mind was seeing scenes and pictures, at break neck, pacing speed. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">I love Shay Connor, he's a beautiful man, and is in the right place, at the right time. He has an adventure to go on, but his character is going to be more than ready for it, due to what he can gain, or even, what he might lose. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Chapter 7 belongs to this guy, however, he shares it with the beautiful Alma Essie. </span><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";">Their story has given me goosebumps. I am really enjoying their adventure... </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";">So my darlings, coffee break is over, and I'm back on it! </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";">Until next time...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";">MJ </span></div><p></p>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-5707426234339213062022-07-02T11:10:00.000+01:002022-07-02T11:10:28.652+01:00Don't Tell Me What To Do... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGXKn0ULewp4cUipIXrgq4HGKQKkCHHPi7vw9ym3cSlp51KIqK9jxiUVUIr27d9rPDLzyiqO8RJs8UtZsOVhJluyj14GMDVCPeD5QkUxvDF8fMeyRcHK2JYaCZX6rJvg30Mzgjmxq4VvD1YIuBVjFfikbLblnp1dSjIjIDN9gK_hyKM4JhCPDCQXICHg/s724/e195d7a459d565a93cfea3f96803b835.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="724" data-original-width="481" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGXKn0ULewp4cUipIXrgq4HGKQKkCHHPi7vw9ym3cSlp51KIqK9jxiUVUIr27d9rPDLzyiqO8RJs8UtZsOVhJluyj14GMDVCPeD5QkUxvDF8fMeyRcHK2JYaCZX6rJvg30Mzgjmxq4VvD1YIuBVjFfikbLblnp1dSjIjIDN9gK_hyKM4JhCPDCQXICHg/w230-h345/e195d7a459d565a93cfea3f96803b835.jpg" width="230" /></a></div><br /> <span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">It's Saturday, my candle flickers, I'm drinking a Smoothie, my darling is working, and Frankie is by my feet... </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">What a great day to do what I love best... </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">I can't quite believe I completed Chapter 6 yesterday. It's not the longest chapter, but my plan was to keep it short, and not waffle around what happens to Alice Essie. Her story starts out beautiful, but gets unbelievably dark </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">It doesn't matter where I go with this novel, Isabelle follows, like a stalker... She isn't the protagonist, but I see shes become the main stay. Well I guess we'll just have to see how Alma develops throughout the chapters, it's in the hands of that little voice inside my head, the content of which I would never try to predict. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Isabelle, is determined to be, in the words of William Shakespeare, the be-all-and-end-all... Lets keep her on her toes, and give her something to go after. Lets give her a worthy opponent, lets show her that despite beginnings, there are beautiful people in the world, and those beautiful people don't need to be contaminated by those who are broken. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Chapter 7 here I come... </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Have a wonderful weekend and whatever you do, enjoy, smile, and count your blessings. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">MJ Ewen</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;"> </span></p>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-14765675510472279092022-06-28T18:51:00.000+01:002022-06-28T18:51:06.107+01:00The Narrator's Quote... <p> </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghqF4Uhs7SUr5z9TM1l1Rr3gvTwZ4KHVemZjGrFy6bNp3CKeZb8m21ZWHUSkb_lc1mv_pS6Cx_aDzUYvAvL7pMW6mli8OAlc3yKnQO-nXkpnRIa_jDFa5Cr1SAmVFlXnokDrKXwmyOb4QVXIs3NZQwS5m5RX1U6J4wdZE1voZ8JcKSd64Cb6T_qe717A/s810/2c36efed9dd44c9f471d706e021c8399.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="456" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghqF4Uhs7SUr5z9TM1l1Rr3gvTwZ4KHVemZjGrFy6bNp3CKeZb8m21ZWHUSkb_lc1mv_pS6Cx_aDzUYvAvL7pMW6mli8OAlc3yKnQO-nXkpnRIa_jDFa5Cr1SAmVFlXnokDrKXwmyOb4QVXIs3NZQwS5m5RX1U6J4wdZE1voZ8JcKSd64Cb6T_qe717A/w262-h373/2c36efed9dd44c9f471d706e021c8399.jpg" width="262" /></a></div></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">A light day today... I've been on puppy-duties, but managed to get some writing done when he had a nap. Frankie is a gorgeous little Cavashon, but right now hes a wee-bit high maintenance, he thinks the world revolves around him and wants lots of attention. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">He is rather cute though. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";">I re-read Chapter 5, and it was when I heard the narrators voice quote this little gem, that I knew I had to use it in my daily poster, post. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";">So lots of thought around Chapter 6 and its opening. Alice is the owner of that Chapter, and has a heck of a lot going on, so my opening is all about that and her thoughts. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Whatever</span><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";"> your week is doing, I hope it treats you well. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";">Until next time... </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";">MJ</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";"> </span></p>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7303925309737004891.post-85871376157120989342022-06-27T12:46:00.004+01:002022-06-27T12:46:57.921+01:00Monday Morning... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZkKASHMQU_NzUB6UcQaCgsv-Zn4IKcdI2mLrVMlhwbrUrjuqIaRkk9Zn_iSe65yjozPavo1yInCQaMnxI4Y3iWw-7UoewQ9o8B1IwEnI3zUOXeqV98XL0DDTu1U24-nEt8pj0C7Hh0eLlsoNgkZAT8h3zIUt2CKxafQzpiLiiqNx6kKOqCefxtPBxmQ/s400/085c9996ea2652fb7af8b9ec2292d062.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="256" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZkKASHMQU_NzUB6UcQaCgsv-Zn4IKcdI2mLrVMlhwbrUrjuqIaRkk9Zn_iSe65yjozPavo1yInCQaMnxI4Y3iWw-7UoewQ9o8B1IwEnI3zUOXeqV98XL0DDTu1U24-nEt8pj0C7Hh0eLlsoNgkZAT8h3zIUt2CKxafQzpiLiiqNx6kKOqCefxtPBxmQ/w245-h350/085c9996ea2652fb7af8b9ec2292d062.jpg" width="245" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Image shared from Pinterest.</span></p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">I'm</span> <span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">looking forward to a bright new week, and I'm eager to have my family back as they've been away on holiday, but honestly, my world just isn't the same without them. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">I've been busy though. I have completed Chapter 5 which has taken a while, and I needed to write a bit of a hairy scene, involving a murder and that was difficult. I'm not sure about anyone else but I struggle to write those sort of scenes. I guess when you're so invested in a story, you live with your characters every day, and I know it might sound silly but its quite hard to say goodbye to any one of them. Anyway the scene just needs reviewing and and edit to complete. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Chapter 6 is a chapter I'm looking forward to writing, because it belongs to Annie Essie, who is Alma's mother, and Arthur's wife. Over the months I've written notes on all of my characters, and I usually gather those, and re-read, which gives me a whole lot of material to work with. I have lots on Alice, because although she isn't always a big part of the novel, she is significant and the reason the story takes on its purpose. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">There is always something the protagonist has to go through to achieve their aim and that often means within their purpose there are lots of battles, struggles, and experiences, as they progress through the story. Dreaming up plots, has been especially good for me, as I like planning and daydreaming. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Architects Daughter;">Anyway if you're still with me, thank-you. I'd like to wish you a wonderful week in whatever you do. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Architects Daughter";">MJ </span></p>AngelJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222654307844999208noreply@blogger.com0