The Original Runaway Heart

Hi! Deven here, or as you might know me by : The Original Runaway Heart (TORH)  I figured I'd say a quick hello, and as I always seem to do : talk a little bit about myself. Sounds fun Eh? *sighs* Okay. Well, This time I'm not going to make the mistake of going into horrifying details about my whole background and the traumatic past that has inspired me to write this blog, but I will  tell you a little more about myself without the embellishment and sarcasm I always tend to use in my blogs... I was born March 21st, 1992 which currently makes me a whole whopping 24 years old. I was born in Moncton, New Brunswick, Canada. Not to be confused with Nova Scotia or Newfoundland, Canada. I hate when people do that! >.> It's a maritimers thing. When I was 20, I decided to take a family vacation out to Quesnel, British Columbia, Canada. I stayed... for five gruesome months, and I hated most of it. I did a lot of fake smiles and laughs. The craziness of that "vacation&q

"Self-actualization is not a sudden happening or even the permanent result of long effort. The eleventh-century Tibetan Buddhist poet-saint Milarupa suggested: "Do not expect full realization; simply practice every day of your life." A healthy person is not perfect but perfectible, not a done deal but a work in progress. Staying healthy takes discipline, work, and patience, which is why our life is a journey and perforce a heroic one." Author: David Richo Do you understand me? Do you know where I come from? I don't think so. I feel you belittling me when I try to state factual knowledge, I feel you judging me when I want to do something innocent and slightly childish. I feel your jealousy when I reach out to my friends because I need someone to vent to. You know nothing about me. You think you do, but you're looking at me with your eyes closed. Here are some helpful things that you should know if you want to avoid a disaster with me around

" It hurt because it mattered" - John Green Did I build this fortress to keep people out, or to trap myself inside? I have a hard time letting people in, letting them see my insecurities and hear my darkest secrets. It doesn't happen overnight, and it doesn't happen often either. When I let someone into this hellish fortress that I've built, I have a hard time letting them go when they decide they no longer wish to stay. Sometimes, sometimes I wonder... if people are set-ups, Trojan horses sent to collapse the fortress and slit my throat in my sleep. The reason behind me wondering such cryptic and gruesome things is because it has happened before, and I recognize the patterns. It keeps happening again and again and again. I am stuck in an endless loop of heartache and absolute misery it seems. I spill my secrets, I show my flaws, my insecurities, I share my deepest wishes and my darkest desires, I even let myself get attached... and you want to know what happe

I am falling in love, enough that I know in my heart I already love him. Here's the issue ; He's not ready to hear me say it. I have been fighting a mental and emotional battle with myself, because the take charge, confident part of me is saying "screw it, speak your mind." There's that whole freedom of speech thing, So technically he can't exactly tell me not to say it. I want to respect his wishes, but I catch myself sighing deeply while I lay in his arms, and I literally bite my tongue so hard it almost bleeds just so those three innocent words don't slip out of my mouth. How is that fair to me? I'm trying to be fair to him, but I feel like I'm lying to myself by doing it. This isn't me, I don't bottle feelings up until I explode! that's not fair to ask me to hold on, be patient and not say how I feel. The other part of me understands, he's scared. Love can leave you feeling vulnerable when you let your guard down and allow

copied from Udemy, for personal use. “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed”  -Ernest Hemingway Pick Genre Start from the end of the book Make characters. Create biography, motives, create character development, create character struggle. Give a brief overview of what happens in each chapter. Delineate the primary struggle in the novel. Show how different events and characters interact and affect each other (A murders B, C takes the fall, etc.) Allow plenty of room for improvisation Write the first draft. relax rewrite “Write Drunk; Edit Sober” – Ernest Hemingway Edit Done with the first rewrite? Don’t start partying yet. There is still lots of work to be done. Editing is the opposite of creative writing. Instead of spinning beautiful metaphors and creating lush imagery, you have to actually delete linguistic flourishes. The amazing adverb you found after an hour’s search in the thesaurus? Gone. Those l

I'm not crazy? No? Look into my mind and then tell me what you think. I'm learning more and more about myself and about my disorder and what it's effects on me are. I'm also learning that some people are so terribly arrogant that they simply won't listen to anyone's explanation, or even the words of a professional psychiatrist. Some people truly wish to believe that a person such as myself is not sick. Borderline Personality Disorder is called such, not because a person is on the border line of having a disorder, which for some reason seems to be the popular belief. It's called such because it is the tethering, border line between having  both 1. Neurosis a mental and emotional disorder that affects only part of the personality, is accompanied by a less distorted perception of reality than in a psychosis , does not result in disturbance of the use of language, and is accompanied by various physical, physiological, and mental disturbances (as visceral

"When we first met, I had no idea you'd mean so much to me." When I'm with you, in your arms time has a different meaning. It isn't measured by the ticking hands of a clock that mark each second, it's measured by the steady beating of our hearts, the slow, calm breaths we take, the laughter that fills the air. Time suddenly becomes unmeasurable. No one else matters in those sweet, quiet moments, it's just us. Your arms wrap around me, and I fall into you, I surrender all my insecurities and toss them to the wind, I take a deep breath and tell you that I wish I could stop biting my tongue, that I'm doing everything I can not to let those words escape my lips, and you tell me to just let go. You know what I'm about to say, and I think it's because you feel it. It's in the air all around us, it's in the breaths we take, and the way our eyes twinkle when we catch each others gaze. It's in the sweet smiles and the innocent, contagious