Saturday, 31 December 2011


Happy New Year - I'll see you on the other side. Star xx

Funny or very very true Quotes .

All human actions have one or more of these seven causes: chance, nature, compulsion, habit, reason, passion, desire.

Don't criticise someone until you've walked a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticise them, they're a mile away and you have their shoes.

I will do anything humanly possible to reach the remote without getting up.

Rain or shine, day or night, you know I'll be there for you, but if you call me at 4 o'clock in the morning, you better be dying.

In case of an emergency, I want to see Dr. House.

It's funny how we spend so much time teaching our kids to walk and talk, and once they master it we promptly tell them to sit down and SHUT UP!

Alcohol may not be the answer, but it sure helps forget the question.

Sleep depravation kills brain cells. I’m down to my last two. One is on life support, and the other’s trying to pull the plug.


When life gives you lemons, add vodka, throw a party.

There are three types of people in the world. Those that makes things happen, those that watch things happen, and those that wonder what the hell happened.

Think of it as mind over matter. I don’t mind that you don’t matter.

Piss me off one more time, and I will knock you so far into next week you'll need a passport to get back.


Yes, men hit harder... but women hit lower. WIN.

If your relationship has more issues than a magazine, I suggest you cancel that subscription.

We live in the “WTF” Generation W: Wikipedia, T: Twitter, F: Facebook.

If you’re talking behind my back, you’re in a good position to kiss my ass.


You never just stop loving someone, either you always will, or you never did in the first place.

I don’t trip, I do random gravity checks.

Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

I’m fluent in three languages: English, Sarcasm, and Profanity.


Teacher: “Why didn’t you complete your homework?”
Student: “Oh sorry, Kanye West didn’t let me finish.” 

Whoever invented the “copy and paste” has saved many hours of my life.

"There's plenty of fish in the sea.”
Yeah that’s cool and all, but I’m human.

I won’t take a bullet for anyone because if I had time to jump in front of a bullet… you had time to move.


In every P.E class there is always that one person who thinks they are in the fucking Olympics.

Women are like police, they can have all the evidence in the world but they still want a confession.

The fact that you continue to share your irrelevant ass opinion only furthers the misconception that I give a fuck about what u think.

Borrow money from a pessimist, they don’t expect it back.


Perfect girls are found at every corner on the Earth. Unfortunately the Earth is round. 

God made Heaven and Earth, the rest was made in China.

Don’t break anybody’s heart, they have only one. Break their bones, they have 206.

Sharks aren’t the bad guys. If some stranger entered my house in just a Speedo, I would probably attack him too.


Money doesn’t buy happiness, but it pays my internet… which is almost the same thing.

Jail = the government’s way of sending you to your room.

Lead me not into temptation (I can find the way myself).

Sometimes life doesn’t give you something you want, not because you don’t deserve it, but because you deserve more.

Friday, 30 December 2011

A Tribute To My Mother.

My mother, as I have previously stated, is a superhero.

I would say that me and my mum are close. I feel like I can talk to her about pretty much anything, usually stuff that's worrying or upsetting me - some of that stuff I wouldn't even tell my closest friends or write on this blog. I'm very grateful for the fact that she's someone who'll always listen; I know that some of my friends don't have great relationships wth their mothers...

Obviously we have our off days, (today is verging on being one of those days... *crossface*) days where she drives me mad and I drive her insane, where she does things like call me downstairs from my bedroom to pass her the remote from across the room, or I "forget" to dust off the living room furniture (repeatedly). But we grin and bear it, cuz that's the crazy sort of crap that families do.

This Christmas, she made the same old mistake of making enough food to feed the 5000, complete with desserts and drinks, minus the bread and fish. Christmas dinner lasted us three days; it FINALLY finished on Tuesday. Which was really good, because the flavours had gotten so strong that it all tasted salty by that time anyway. The best part, food wise, was honestly her cooking... barely ate any of the Roses, Heroes, Quality street, shortbread, Viennese selection, jacobs cracker selection, organic fudge, lemon whoopie pie, strudel, apple crumble, lemon cheesecake, after eights, Sainbury's organic mince pies, mince pies with buttercream, mince pies with icing, custand-and-something pie. All I really wanted was that much-loved Mama's cooking. Unlike previous years of moaning how we never helped, this year she ordered us all out of the kitchen so we wouldn't be under her feet, leaving aside complains of having to cook the whole thing (I DID grate the cheese. =] ). She is awesome.

Just like her, I also made my yearly mistake of spooning two scoops of everything onto my plate with the belief that I could eat it all. By the time I reached the end, I was so stuffed that when I looked down at my beachball stomach, I firmly believed I'd never need to eat again. Urgh. I disgust me.

Christmas aside, it worries me slightly to think about all the stuff I don't know. I wish I could upload all of my mama's knowledge into my head, but by the time scientists develop that sort of technology, (USB Brain Storage Stick, or; Nintendo Wii Reliveyourlife, how about Nintendo Rii-liveyourlife) no doubt we'll both be long gone. One of my (current) fears - as I said before, I have many - is that I can never live up to my mama's epicness - when she is actually being epic, and not annoying and nagging. It's daunting to think about all the stuff she knows that I have yet to learn. How can I ever live up to that? How can I ever get my macaroni cheese to taste exactly like that? How could I unscrew the computers hard-drive, fumble about in there and then suddenly the computer works fine again? How can I get lost on a motorway and somehow manage to get us to the desired destination? How can I 'rough it' through situations and make everything eventually turn out fine? And so forth, so forth, so forth. I don't know what I'd do without my Mum.

Dear Mama. You are the greatest person I know. Thank you for being my guiding star.

Little Star xx

Wednesday, 28 December 2011

Sunday, 25 December 2011

The Big Red Button

This never ever fails to cheer me up !!!
Now I can REALLY say Merry Christmas.

(On that note, I should probably go to bed...)

Miss Starry xxx

Saturday, 24 December 2011

Time For Some Cheering Up.

MERRY CHRISTMAS, from Mz Star :')

And I thank One Stop Humour for making my day.

Where is my pony?

We told you we didn't want your kind around here.
We Told You We Didn't Want Your Kind Around Here

Troll Windows

Clever Bloke!

Are you real?

Star Fox Is Down

Slow Down

OMG.... A CUPCAKE !!!!!
Omg....A Cupcake!

Anytime You Want To Talk...

That Awkward Moment When...

Who Agrees?

Best Bed Ever??!!!
Best Bed Ever!

How Mario Came About

Pizza I choose you!

Neo Learns From The Matrix

Yeah I Think I Will Give You 10 Points For That

Now Thats Just Lazy

F**k logic!

Father explanation needed!

Friday, 23 December 2011

Venus versus Mars (Chapter 1)

written in April 2011
This was previously titled 'Confessions',
but the story itself has undergone so much improvement that title no longer

sums up the story, even though it does reflect a major part of it. Dedicated to
Flash Cam, Camara Mascara, of which 'Camara Mascara' does not rhyme in
her accent. :P
Also to N'Talia, who has been my literary rock when I needed one, and who
should really write a lot more often. Kiss Kiss xx


A woman wants proper alliance with a man, a man who is of better stuff than herself.
She wants to be free – she wants to be legally and economically free so as not to be
subject to the wrong man: but only God, who made the world, can alter things to
prevent her from being a slave to the right one.
-- Ann Veronica.


With every generation, the human race manages to produce a legion of arrogant, ignorant and idiot people. Camara had now been in the fashion industry for just under a decade, since she was fourteen years old, and she’d honestly believed that she’d seen it all; the insincere smiles of fashion advocates who merely saw her as another contact who’d get them introduced to bigger and better people, women who willingly put their bodies through torture to be idolised as the next fashion icon, men who climbed to the top of the food chain by collecting fashion moguls and business tycoons like trophies. Greed. Pride. Lust.

As she climbed out of her brother’s Jaguar in a midnight blue Calvin Klein dress, she constantly reminded herself not to take anything personally when she got in there. After all, business was business. Every lady and gentleman was too busy stabbing other in the back to care when they themselves were being double-crossed, they just understood that it was the nature of the game; you leave your ass exposed, sooner or later somebody will kick it. With that thought in mind, she fixed her smile to its brightest intensity and relaxed. She shouldn’t have been at all worried. Tillers were elite at verbal confrontations and therefore always ready to react to whoever decided to test their patience.

“Just keep your temper. You ready to go in?” Cameron murmured, slinging his suit jacket over his shoulder. Camara pressed her lips together, irritated at how accurately he could read her emotions.

“Shut up and let’s go.” she said shortly.

Her brother was an urban knight, half-blinded by pride, but his advice was rarely misplaced. With a sigh, she firmly told herself not to lose her cool as she titled her face upwards, squinting her eyes against the wind that tossed her dark hair, and slid her eyes up along the silver staircase that joined the sidewalk and the entrance of Trem Gallerium. She’d never seen anything that radiated such proud magnificence. Almost everything about it sparkled; soft white lights shone onto the stone staircase, making the tiny shards of glass and marble in the concrete glow silver. There was a net movement of men and women in sharp suits and sparkling dresses moving along the sidewalk to the Gallerium where the Celebration of Fashion evening was being held, and the moment they set foot on the stairs it made even the most horse-faced woman look like an angel.

‘Neat trick,’
 Camara thought, her lips then forming a small pout, ‘- if not a cheap way of getting people to like you.’

She headed inside, hearing Cameron’s footsteps close behind her, but once past the glass-stained doors she was hit by more shining marble floors, dazzling chandeliers and a wide display of modern furniture across the whole hall, that only served to illuminate the whiteness of the walls. Camara’s awe soon became sceptical. It took her a total of three seconds to realise that if it didn’t sparkle, it wasn’t in the Gallerium. Trem Harrison clearly wanted the rest of the world to look dull in comparison but she had a feeling her eyes would soon start hurting.

“This Trem doesn’t seem to know any degree of modesty.” she said under her breath, and felt rather than saw her brother smirk, but heard nothing. The fact that he didn’t have a scornful remark to add to that surprised her. When they joined the queue at the podium where guests were being received, she chanced a glance at him.

Cameron Tiller had the same rough dark hair as his sister and a similar temper, but tonight he was strangely subdued. His trademark faint, mischievous grin had been replaced by a thoughtful pout, and his eyes that would always twinkle cheekily now looked mildly inquisitive – but it was all a show, his best actor’s face. Only Camara could stare right through it and see his dull, flat boredom. She looked away as they moved a few paces forward in the line.

“You didn’t have to come.”

“Neither did you.” he pointed out. Camara didn’t reply. Point taken.

When they reached the podium they were greeted by a woman whose dress had so many jewels that Camara mused they would all roll off her if she took a step. She was sure the woman was from Trem’s company, the Trem Consortium, but she often worked freelance for major fashion artists. “Camara Tiller,” Rita-Aria beamed, taking one of Cam’s hands in both of her own. “How wonderful to see you – and how beautiful you look tonight, love.”

“Thank you, Rita.” Camara said softly, with her most radiant smile. “Although your dress…”

“Isn’t it soooo beautiful-!” she exclaimed, letting go of Camara’s hand in an instant to hold up the skirts of the dress. The corner of Camara’s mouth turned upwards; no diamante had fallen off yet. “Trem had it made for me, I tell you I was simply stunned when I saw it, I’m pretty sure Ricky LaCosta designed it but it’s just incredible I got to wear it –” she paused, a tiny grin on her face. “Anyway do enjoy yourself, Mr Harrison has some fantastic things lined up for tonight, catwalks and auctions and all sorts. Oh, I have a message for you,” she added as an afterthought, catching Camara by surprise. “Miss N’Talia Levine requested you join her at her table, the Guests Of Honour’s table with Lucky Baylor, and Staani Thom, and most likely Mr Trem Harrison himself towards the end of the evening.” Rita-Aria’s eyebrows raised. “It’s really is a privilege to be invited to sit with them.”

Camara pressed her lips together. She didn’t need to be told that, especially by this busybody. N’Talia was her boss at Gold Model, and of all the fake people Camara had befriended Tal was the only one she would care to call ‘friend’. The woman had nurtured and continuously promoted Camara to the highest position in her power, and after she could do no more in the company she still granted her invitations to functions just like this, so she could introduce her to more agents, photographers and tycoons. Her latest and most appreciated gift was recommending her to Staani Thom - fondly nicknamed Star by those gracious enough to earn her friendship - a highly influential woman who seemed to have endless smiles to give, her celebrity status gained by her long-term 'friendship' with the basketballer Lucky Baylor.

Cameron just smirked and said mockingly to his sister, “Well well, rubbing shoulders with celebrities are we? I’m impressed.”

Rita-Aria suddenly turned her gaze on him, sweeping her eyes across his apparel like she was drinking the sight of him. It had been said countless times that if Camara was a boy she would have been her brother’s twin; they looked so alike. But still Rita-Aria decided to play dumb, to Camara’s utter annoyance.

“And who’s this? I’m sure I haven’t seen you before – and I know aaaaall the fashion advocates in the industry.” she inquired, her shiny peach nails on her hips. Camara was certain that was true; as charming and as influential as she was, Rita-Aria was known for sticking her pointed nose in everything whether it concerned her or not.

Cameron said nothing, either because he felt he had nothing relevant to say or he simply considered this whole evening a waste of his time. “This is my brother, Cameron.” Camara said eventually, forcing a light jest, “He’s my entourage tonight. Fashion mildly interests him.”

“Aha, well!” Rita-Aria clapped her hands with enthusiasm, “I’m sure that after tonight your thoughts will drastically change, Mr Cameron!” Her face lit up with surprise and she laughed at the ironic similarity, like dozens had before her, “Aw, Cameron and Camara! Cutee.” she beamed. Camara fixed a false smile on her face, displeased, but to her relief Rita-Aria soon turned to the next guests in the queue, curtly deciding their conversation was done.

Cameron and Camara.” she spoke under her breath, her smile pained as they finally moved away, “If I had a dollar for every time somebody said that…”

“… Bill Gates would be kissing our asses.” Cameron muttered back, equally irritated.

Camara as she might look in 'V vs M'.

I promised I would post fiction.
Like I said in Star's First Venture, my aliases introduce themselves. =)

Peace, Love,
Staani xx


Tuesday, 20 December 2011

The System at Christmas

It's christmas, but I aint merry.
Feel like christmas, look like halloween.
Shit, gets shitter, but I aint bitter.
This aint no scrooge, this is real talk.

One of my friends posted that on facebook on Sunday - now I'm feeling a lot like somebody needs to remind me of the meaning of Christmas cheer.

I read on Yahoo! news today that there's a store that exists somewhere in the world where they sell Christmas stock all year round, in other words, its Christmas every day there. Which would be great, if Christ really was born on every day of the year.

mean, seriously? Is it just me, or has Christmas blown all out of proportion since I was a kid? True, when I was a kid, a lot of the important shit flew straight over my head, so maybe I'm just noticing it all now. But it doesn't even matter, because whether the xmas hype is recent or ancient, the way The System (a compilation of the media, the government, the police, the law, and every authority in the world that bullshits you) manipulates the population into a Spend-Spend-Spend consumerism frenzy is kind of... disgusting.

I am not Christian, neither am I atheist or any other religion, (I hold certain beliefs on religion and God but now's not the time to get into it. Anyone who knows me knows how easily little Star can get carried away) - but at the end of the day, I live in England and it's a Christian country. So it's a bit shocking when Santa is more popular than Jesus at this time of year, like the whole thing has lost its meaning. Not too shocking, mind you, the System screws us over a hell of a lot of the time - but I just feel like I'm being roped in. Which is dumb because I would still celebrate Christmas regardless, but taking into account that this year I spent more than usual plus I'm working on days I would be at home, I guess the glumness is making me wonder when everything will reach a climax, and Christmas will be so ridiculous that it'll be as non-existent as Pancake day. (Mmm, I love Pancake Day.)
Completely absurd is the belief that ONE MAN can travel the globe and deliver presents to every single child before they get up on Christmas Day - remembering that China is overpopulated, this is complete FARCE and to feed this story to your children is cruel. (Don't get me started on the tooth fairy.) There are many reasons why the concept of Santa is full of baloney. 
  • Santa has always been depicted as white. There are many many races in the world - China probably see their Santa as Chinese, France as a Frenchman, and so on. It's too convenient.
  • You mean to tell me that an overweight man could complete such a task? He's be knocked out by the time he'd done a fifth of Europe.
  • Why would you want a stranger sneaking around in your house and leaving boxes like a terrorist anyway?
  • When I was younger, I told my teacher that my house didn't have a chimney, therefore how would Santa get in. My teacher then proceeded to tell me this beautiful bullshit story about Santa's Magic Key that can open any door in the world. From that very moment, I knew that someone was fuckin' around with me, because if he had that key from the start, why the HELL would he bother with the chimney. He can't even bloody fit down it.
Rant done. Learn your lesson.
Even with other holidays; Hallowe'en, Easter - Halloween decorations appear from the start of September, Easter from what, late February? Somebody on Yahoo! news amusedly posted that actually, in the shop where they work, they get Easter eggs in when Christmas is finished. Man. So it really is all year round.

I sigh at consumerism fuckery.

Regardless, I do love the glee and excitement at Christmas, even if I can't fully take part in it - and I'm still looking forward to some things that happen every Christmas without fail; my mama buying too much food; watching Home Alone 2, which plays every year and is probably my favourite movie to watch at Christmas; all of us trying to sit down and do family things and then somebody ending up arguing and/or in a strop (- many years this has been me, as I have a big family and the rowdiness gets too much).

Other than that, what else is there to look forward too? Unlike previously, this year I'm 19 and for the first time ever since babyhood, not in education. So I'm WORKING. I know. I wanna fucken laugh. I'm not working New Year's Eve because I don't work Saturdays, but if Christmas had fallen on a Wednesday, I'd be working bloody Christmas Eve, Boxing Day, and probably New Years' as well! A Christian country, really? I tell ya...

My guilty pleasure: buying presents. I have been nomiated as the best present-wrapper in my family, and I do admit that I love buying and wrapping presents and making them look like a cute little parcel in cute little wrapping paper. I love the way piles of presents looked together when shoved loving in a cute lil' corner on Christmas Eve. Almost makes me not wanna open them.

... almost. I'm not an idiot.

In the Metro newspaper, (which I vow to eventually stop reading, they're filling my head with stupid rubbish that I really didn't give a toss about,) they had calculated the average that most people where likely to spend, and also calculated that people were going to spend a lot of money at Christmas even though it would most likely send them into debt in the new year. This tells me that one, most of the population is stupid, and two, this year I almost joined the ranks of most-of-the-population. The average person this year would spend £128 on presents.

It really, really pains me to say this, (I'm a very good saver and a Thrift Queen, spending money actually physically hurts me,) but buying for three brothers, two sisters, two parents, and four very close friends, with an estimated £10-£20 spend per person, I am already nearing two hundred pounds.

... yep, life sucks, but at least Princessa Jo wrote this poem for me and LuLu;
Warm hands and tall hugs,
Lovely, frothy coffee mugs,
Loud laughs and smiles smiled,
Voices heard from numbers dialled.

Stresses fade as joys are shared,
Calming words from those that care
Expressed wishes to meet again
From friends that share their love til then. 
Love you guys. xx

She's so cute. Love you too, Jo.

Okay, that's quite enough. The next post will be fiction, I swear.

With love from an alias I used whist trying to battle stress;
The ShanStar xx


Saturday, 17 December 2011


I know. I'm not much of a writer, am I? For the five posts on my blog so far, only one has been literature. So as I said in Star's First Venture, I'm still trying to break through writer's block. Miserably.

It's quite difficult to do this when I'm plagued with so many fears. It's sparking violent and horrific nightmares instead of my usual, thought-provoking, innovative, inspiring writer's-dreams - I hope the list of adjectives indicated how amazing those ones are. But these fears; fear of death, of failure, of embarrassment... are beginning to unravel me.

The other day, after I'd brushed my teeth and ran my tongue in my mouth, feeling the dip in my back tooth - it reminded me of the hole I'd once had in the tooth behind it. And out of nowhere, that got me thinking about pain.

Star's List Of Pain .

10. Stomach Ache. (when I was young, this would've been number one.)
9. Cuts. (papercuts, accidental knife cuts - they're so quick that you don't feel it until after.)
8. Headaches & Migranes.
7. Pressure Pain. (intense pressure on body part ie. dropping something on foot, stepping on pin, etc.)
6. Burns. (throbs for ages.)
5. Banging Your Elbow.
4. Cramps.
3. Labour. (not that I've ever experienced this.)
2. Dental Pain. (wisdom tooth being taken out or having a large cavity. THE WORST.)
1. Torture. (ongoing pain ie. burning, mutilation, strangulation, etc.)

I've yet to figure out why I've been thinking in this way lately. Maybe there's something wrong with my head - I could write about it, and release it that way, only... I'm a fantasy writer, not a horror writer. The most violent thing I wrote was Battlegame Forfeit, and even that would be Bambi compared to the things that would probably sprout from this.

Time for some detox tea and a rest, I think. Hopefully my head will be fixed in the morning; if so, I'll be full of Christmas cheer 
in my next blog post. If not... well, no doubt it'll be apparent. Yay for the oncoming Christmas.

Star xx


Tuesday, 13 December 2011

Thoughts for the f*$£@~#!! day.

What the hell kind of name is 'Nigella'.

Wondering what Katy Perry would look like without make-up.

I can't believe that after all these years, Nick Sharratt is STILL illustrating Jacqueline Wilson books.

Camara Mascara - does that only rhyme in my accent, or do americans say the 'a' different? Curious. (If so, it is my new nickname for youh.)
Cam: lmao over here that doesn't rhyme at all
13 minutes ago · Like
Cam: it must be the accent
13 minutes ago · Like
Star: ‎... oh shit. serious? you know, i didn't wonder. in one of chiddy bangs songs he says
| it like, mas-kerra. i was like WHAT ._.
11 minutes ago · Like
Star: okay thnkuus
11 minutes ago · Like
Star: you have fulfilled my immediate desire. farewell :3 ♥
11 minutes ago · Like

Little Mix? SO we're comparing Little Mix to the SPICE GIRLS? Are you serious-?! Okay stop. They do not have a distinctive look, their harmonies are terrible, they don't have a unique persona (ginger spice, baby spice, etc), their style is horrible, its just, as Carmela would say, a hot mess. (i think that's what she says.) I hope they do make it, but they will need to work SO HARD - and its WAAY too early to be comparing them to the Spice Girls. Waay to early.

Bought my best friends' presents today. V
ery happy.

Already spent almost £100 on christmas presents. Unimpressed.

LMAO. It seems I am now using my facebook like a f$£&#~@! twitter account.

... to clarify, I don't have a Twitter.

So, I was doing online Christmas shopping. I didn't want to go overdraft or whatever-youmacallit so I checked my bank account, (I was afraid of fraud so I had changed the password) but then realised I'd forgotten the p/w. Reset my pass, and was then instructed to call my bank's number to confirm that I was me. It was eleven o'clock at night, so clearly, that was not happening. Waited til morning to call, called them, answered security questions, GOT THE SECURITY QUESTIONS WRONG, can you fucking believe it, and now they have to send a security pin to confirm that it really is me. It takes FIVE FREAKING WORKING DAYS for the security pin to arrive.

...none of you will get presents this year if shit continues.

I was so upset this morning. Set my heart on seeing a college friend's show, which i knew about a week in advance - but despite all, I was
 booked overtime at work and unable to go after all. I felt like I let her down.

You know when you see the most beautiful boy on the train and you don't wanna get off...

You know that hilarious moment when you see people risking their life running across the road when the little man is red, then embarassedly slowly down when they see everybody else crossing normally; the cars had just stopped because the little man was about to turn green anyway.

To my fb friends: you should probably change your settings to hide all my random shit that's most likely coming up on your home page.

I hate it when boys you like turn into assholes.

Going to repeat something my colleague said to me on my first day of work - 'You get customers who are sooo lovely, who can brighten up your mood for ages - but you also get that one customer who ruins your day.' Thank God, got none of those today. And despite all, I manage to stay positive at work. God knows how, because everything else in life is a mess at the moment.

'Despite all' seems to be my favourite phrase at the moment.

Despite all the terrible weeks I've been having lately, plus the garish nightmares and the ominous Return of the Insomnia (I used to suffer badly from this, so when it Returns, it really hits me hard. Hence the capitalisation.), I'm able to find my happy place before long. Must thank the family and my dear mama for that.

I guess I should write something now. Being a writer and all.

Star xx

Wednesday, 7 December 2011

Horoscope Of A Black Male (Chapter 1)

Horoscope Of A Black Male (Single And Trigger Happy)

For some reason, this single chapter, even though slightly tame, is one of my favourites.

Chapter One .
written in February 2011

See I'm a single black male, dark hair, dark eyes,
Long walks through a park and a lot of them lives,
I'm a little bit shaded by a lot of what I see,
So if you're still interested you should come get at me...
-- The Pain, by MURS.

Standing, he reached an impressive six foot. Milk chocolate complexion, and light indented dimples that showed when he barely smiled – and he barely ever smiled. Full lips, soft brown eyes, and two tattoos; one on his bicep, and a complex design across his shoulder blades. Slim, but muscular. Sagittarius.

But despite his striking features, women didn’t warm to Chae any more than he warmed to them. It clearly wasn’t hid looks that repelled them, so he’d come to the conclusion that there was something about his nature that was hugely intimidating – Leila had told him it was his eyes. They’d seen too much brutality, too much cruelty, and when he turned those dark eyes on someone he made shivers run down their spine. Chae had earned the sort of reputation that made the air crackle whenever he walked into a room. But Leila would then kiss both of his eyelids and airily tell him that she was immune to his dark knight shit.

Pulling on his slate-gray coat over his red shirt with a nametag that read ‘Michael’, he moved to stand by the open double doors of Lips Electronics. It had to be the most serene store in the whole mall, which was probably why he liked working there. He watched idle customers peer at the shiny screens of TV’s, or drift by and browse the wares, edgily dodging around Chae when they passed him. His eyes followed them, frowning slightly. Even people who weren’t rough-looking urban kids avoided him or stepped out of his path, and they did it subconsciously. Rough-looking urban kids had a reason – when he was himself a troubled teenager, Chae used to run a vicious crew in the neighbourhood. But ordinary folks, especially women, they simply grew uneasy around him. Maybe he had an unsettling aura. He was often sceptical about that spiritual palaver, but his mother passionately believed in it and he would’ve listened to anything she had to say, no matter how false.

“Chae!” he turned towards the checkout counter to see Nanni’s her wide, innocent eyes fixed on him. Her red shirt, unlike his, was ironed and neatly fixed over her small torso. She looked like a dark-skinned Santa’s Little Elf. “Where are you going? Are you leaving? I thought you were working all day. Don’t leave. I –”

His expression darkened. “Nanni.” was all he said, and the sound of his voice quietened her at once. Her smile was guilty, and that softened him almost instantly. “Motor mouth.”

“Easily excitable.” she insisted, flashing a cute grin.

“I’m just leaving for a few hours.” he told her. Due to the Trap House problem, Chae had no choice but to work all day, every day – but today he had no choice but to make an exception. Chae checked his watch to read 13:50. “Mr Valliday won’t know I’m gone if there’s a constant stream of customers, and if they don’t make it obvious.” He titled his head slightly to their co-workers, who stood in a suspicious little group by the stereo display, watching him curiously. The moment he shot them a dark look, they all jumped and dispersed, grinning sheepishly and hurrying to commit to various tasks. He heard Nanni issued a wicked little chuckle at how effortlessly he exerted control over other people. She loved watching it happen, like watching a puppet show.

“Are you going to help Andre with his interview? Can I come?” she asked conversationally.

“No. Stay here and keep the others in line.”

“Great! I’ll take my break.” she said happily and disappeared into the backroom to get her coat. Chae stared after her, heavily confused as to whether the word ‘no’ really left his mouth, or he simply thought it did and instead said ‘yes’.

He left the store and stepped into a cascade of white. Holliday Mall was one of the most stunning in Louisiana, with a dome ceiling that reached high above the heads of the shoppers, spawning three levels of stores joined by extensive escalators. Outside Lips Electronics waited a mixed-race twenty-year old with a black hood pulled fully over his head and a cap resting on top, rough black jeans worn below the usual position. Chae stared at him, showing his drop-jawed surprise through his eyes.

“Please, oh please tell me you’re not wearing that to the interview.” he said blankly.

Jerking at the sound of his voice, Andre exhaled with relief and approached him. “Well what am I supposed to wear!”

“I told you to borrow one of Bobby’s shirts!”

Andre kissed his teeth and sulked. “Maaan I ain’t borrowing nuthin’ from that donkey.”

Chae closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his face. “This, is why you never get a job.”

“No, I never get a job because I have a criminal record.” Andre corrected. “Which is why it’s important for me to nail this one.”

“If it’s important, act like it is.” Chae shot at him, his voice hard and harsh, “Turn up at the right time, wearing the right thing and with the right documents, instead of dragging me here and wasting my time when I already have a job.”

Andre opened his mouth to retaliate, when it dawned on him that Chae wasn’t the person to argue with when angry. Closing his mouth, he settled for a guilty shrug. “Sooo… we leaving now or what?”

Chae opened his mouth. He paused, glancing back through the shop window of Lips, peering past the TV’s of various sizes. “Nanni. She’s coming.” he told Andre, who gave him a puzzled frown. Nanni burst out of Lips and zipped to stand beside him, knocking her elbow against his.

“Ready? Let’s go!” she thrilled. Chae raised an eyebrow, wondering how the girl could always contain so much energy. As the youngest female entrusted to his care she was always considered the ‘baby’ of the Trap House, and it didn’t help that her youthful face, bright eyes and beaming smile knocked years off her age. Although she was turning seventeen soon, she much preferred to act as if she was seven.

“Did you bring all the legal stuff, Andre? Your passport, bank details…?” she inquired, linking arms with Chae and ignoring his irritated jerk, hanging on even when he tried to unlink their arms. They began to walk past the ground floor shops and out of the mall; the automatic doors pulled open for them, and they turned down to a street of business buildings, such as the offices of lawyers, accountants and the like. Andre stayed silent for a long moment, walking with an imitated carefree swagger that every urban boy knew how to mimic by the time they reached twelve.

“… I’m gonna be one-hundred percent honest…” he said eventually, while Chae’s heart sank. The boy was a lost cause. “…nobody told me I supposed to bring that shit.”

“Andre, Kiara gave you a LIST!” he bellowed.

“I know but – ! I couldn’t read her handwriting!”

Chae and Nanni exchanged glances and said nothing, beginning to think that either Andre didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, or that he wasn’t as confident as he seemed to be and was trying to hide it. It was crucially import for Andre to get this job – if he didn’t, every person living in the Trap House would go into debt. If they got thrown out, there’d be no place for them to go other than Salvation Army or a crack house. Three minutes of walking, and they could already see the Burton and Barker building where Andre’s interview was being held. The position was for a Junior Administrator, and required the fairly basic tasks of photocopying, typing up forms and filing documents. Chae slowed to a halt outside the door, and gestured to it. Andre stared at him. “I thought you were coming in with me!”

He shook his head. “I’m done with you. Just remember everything we went over yesterday, alright? Here, take off your jacket.” Andre took off his hoodie, and Nanni nodded confidently as if affirming that he looked much smarter with just the shirt. “Don’t try to be somebody you’re not because they can see right through that. You don’t have to try and use long words to prove you’re competent.” Chae pursed the corner of his mouth. “Andre… this is really important. Do not fuck it up.” Andre took a breath and nodded disconnectedly. “Go in, you’re already eight minutes late – and good luck.”

“But…. ” Andre struggled, suddenly looking helpless.

Nanni skipped up to him and hugged his torso. “Dre, just always address your interviewer politely, as Mr or Mrs whatever. Don’t drink anything, you’ll need to pee. Don’t eat anything in case your breath smells or in case you get something in your teeth or crumbs on your mouth or whatever. Stay calm, think fast, speak slowly. You do have work experience, so just talk about what you know. Okay?”

Andre issued a pathetic whine and yelped at her, “How am I supposed to remember all that!”

Chae held his hand out for Nanni. “C’mon, kid. He’ll be fine.”

“But I can’t remember the interviewer’s name!” he shouted after them, his hand on the doorknob.

“Then just ask –” Nanni tried to shouted back, when Chae clapped a hand over her mouth and turned her words of advice into muffled noises.

“He needs to learn for himself, Nanni. We can only help him so much.” he told her softly, placing an arm around her shoulders and hugging them. She slowly nodded, and leaned her head against his upper arm.

“Can we go for a milkshake?”

Chae’s instant response was to say ‘no’, as they had work to be getting back to and getting paid was no joke. Getting paid was what him, Nanni, Andre, and everybody at the Trap House lived for. Getting paid was not an option if their manager found out they weren’t working.

“… sure.” Chae said tiredly, and with his arm still around her shoulder, steered their walk back towards the mall.

Peace and Love,
Star xx

Monday, 5 December 2011

Do I Have A Story For YOU.

Guess what. It's my birthday today.

It seems as if I'm celebrating my birthday on the 4th, the 5th, AND the 10th this year (apparently I was born on three days...) ; on a normal year, 'Star's Birthday' would mean nice food and a cake and that crap, but this year means my sister wants to be an ogre and everyone wants to whine at me. Birthday Cake was done yesterday, That Crap I'm getting today, and Nice Food I have to wait until Saturday for. Plus I have work today. So far, being 19 is anything but good.

But seeing as it IS my birthday, I'm going to tell a story. It's a story my sister told me last week, (the same sister whining and bitching at me, lets codename her 'Azure') and as she told me and my other sister (let's codename her 'Aime'), all of us were horrified, damn near-traumatised. The story has spread so fast that even the most unlikely people know about it. So here's the story. Happy Birthday to me.

This is the story of something that happened to my sister's colleague's girlfriend's colleague's friend. So when she heard it, it was the story of her colleague's girlfriend's colleague's friend. In brief, it's a true story, passed from person to person, that really, happened.

So this woman, she loves snakes.

She LOVES snakes. She owns a pet python that she's had since it was a baby, and because she adored it so much, she let it roam out of its cage around her flat, like any other normal house pet. She fed it dead mice, as you do with snakes, and it grew to adulthood. One day, it stopped eating the mice. She thought this was odd as it hadn't done that before, and thought something like, 'Okay, maybe I should ring the vet about that...'

Then, one morning, she woke up to find herself looking at the snake.

Its face was right beside hers when she woke, and it was lying in a perfectly straight line beside her in bed. Now remember - as she loves snakes, and she lets it go wherever in her house, even in and on her bed - so this wasn't very shocking to her. But it was very strange to find it lying like dead straight, as everybody knows snakes never lie in a straight line, they are always curved. She thought 'Oh, that's really odd...'

So she got dressed and headed to work, but on the way she called the vet and explained what her snake had been doing. After listening carefully to her story, the vet eventually said,

"... are you in the house?"

She told them she wasn't.

The vet then said, "......... do not got back in that flat."

The snake had been lying in a straight line, the vet explained, because it had been measuring her with its body, to see whether SHE WOULD FIT INSIDE IT. And it had stopped eating the dead mice, because it had been starving itself enough to eat her.

.... I'm sorry, but that shit gets me every single time.

The most ironic thing, was that the python actually was longer than the length of her body, as it had grown a lot bigger than it would've done if left inside its cage - so at some point the mice wasn't sustaining it any more, and the next biggest mammal to the mice was the woman herself. And here's the thing too - as she was clearly comfortable with her pet, she most likely would have allowed it to climb her shoulders and would've been unprepared if it had strangled her with its body - a snake's body is one long muscle, so once it's contracted around the neck, there's no fighting it. It gets even more horrific. When snakes eat large mammals, they can last for months and months on end. If he had managed to consume her, it would've been able to survive in that flat for, what, a year?

... the only way me and my sisters can get over something as unbelievable as that is to joke it off; every time Azure's cat growls at any of us, I say mischievously, "Be careful, you might wake up to find him lying in a straight line..."

But obviously, its not funny. It's very, very traumatic. Especially for a woman who loves snakes.

I'm going to quote something my sister Aime said; "Well she's still alive, so the story doesn't end there. What happened to her?" Azure didn't know. All she knew was that the woman later returned to the flat with someone or maybe a few people - and the snake was put down. But what gets me the most, out of this entire story - and I know it isn't 'planning' really because its simply instinct for a reptilian creature to behave in this way, especially a God damn python - is how it seemed like the snake planned so meticulously to kill her.

Star xx

Sunday, 27 November 2011

First Venture

Star's official first venture into blogging. This should be interesting.

This blog is for me more than anything (or anyone) else. There are two reasons for choosing to hog this tiny bit of cyberspace all to myself via this blog: the first being that I needed to find a way to break through horribly malicious writer's block, the second being that I suddenly realised how fast I'm running out of time.

When I say 'running out of time', what I really mean is - stupid people are snatching up all my ideas. Which sounds quite dumb when you consider that I've written a list of every story I've ever come up with, spanning well over sixty ideas. But despite my over-active imagination constantly giving me new story ideas and inspiration, I was horrified to find them suddenly no longer suitable for use, like they had a Use By date and I just wasn't able to write fast enough to beat it. For example.

Year 10, the start of my Japanese obsession. I'd read a manga called Vampire Knight. It had inspired me to write a story that I titled 'Neptune' in which vampire clans with special abilities exist among humans; a vampire boy and girl that belong to the largest warrior clan discover that vampire-girl has psychic abilities and elemental power that originated from an old and forgotten vampire clan. Twilight emerges. Neptune expires.

From a young age I've had a fascination with the elements; water, fire, earth and air. I started to weave a complex story between four gods and four different cultures of people gifted with one of the four elements. Not long after doing some internet research, I come across Avatar: The Legend Of Aang, was immediately hooked, and worked my way through all three series in a frenzy. When returning to my story, I realised that I could no longer write it without subconsciously pinching everything I'd seen.

Born Into The House Of Sin was a story one of my most anticipated ideas, full of potential. Discarding the vampire ideas - I was completely bored with them - I pulled out my Fantasy Reference book and found my new favourite night creature; the Incubus (male) and Succubus (female), beings of seduction. I wrote a great deal of the story before it began to stop making sense (as with most of my literature) so I left it for a couple of months. A 'couple of months' was all that was needed for Lost Girl to surface. BITHOS expired.

And finally, my latest frustration. With Twilight on the descent, The Hunger Games is eagerly awaited as the next teenage movie to fill seats. Which is great. Except, the very essence of it is parallel to Battlegame Forfeit, the only serious story I was able to write from start to finish without losing focus. This idea featured a selection of youths that are chosen to be part of a government program, trained for a year, and then put in a death match against each other with only three survivors. If it wasn't bad enough that it already sounded like the Japanese movie Battle Royale, what actually inspired this idea was a very old movie called Naked Weapon. 'Pissed' is not even the word.

So this is my attempt to break through frustration and inability to put pen to paper, to instead come up with something coherent. With a mind so over-active that ideas are constantly circulating, even in my dreams, it shouldn't be too hard. If I'm stuck, one of my alter egos should be able to come up with something. I'd introduce them all, but they have a habit of finding their way into my fiction and introducing themselves.

Peace && Love,
Star xx
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