Your Stalker

I read your work in silence, quietly admiring your work of art.  I grumble to myself about my inadequate abilities as a writer and how I wished I was more like you.  I sit disturbed, wondering if I should contact you.  What would I say to you?  How do I begin?  Ive always kept to myself, so why now?

I'm obsessed with the new ideas that float in and out of my head, unable to commit myself to just one.  I bite my nails in frustration, it shouldn't be this hard.  If there was a god, why would he give me something I'm so passionate about, but yet not give me the skills to accomplish my dream?

I read another entry you've written, this one is really good.  The effortless wit and vocabulary in this piece astounds me and I sit green with envy.  I fantasize about becoming your friend; emailing each other chapters we've written and chatting eagerly about our favorite authors. 

I sit at the table with my pen in hand, but not one word drops unto the empty page.  I cringe as I remember what great characters you've created and I wonder if I should just give up my dream; how will I ever compare?
I force myself to write a couple pages, even though my dialogue is cheesy and my descriptions forced.

I will keep working, fanatically, until you notice me, until I become worthy of being your friend.

For Stella

   The world is big, yet I am small. My whiskers get in the way of my eyesight, luckily, most of the time I forget they are there and I do not get agitated, as I am right now.  Its hard to be small in such a big world, but I think it must be harder to be big.  I watch as these strange creatures, who are much bigger than I, run around everywhere, frazzled.  Most of them are too exhausted to see the sun rise and too busy to see it set, what a shame. Personally, sun sets are my favorite, its when the cool air begins to settle under my fur.  I usually like to find a cozy corner to hide in when this event happens and sometimes I get lucky and one of my sisters will snuggle with me to keep me warm.

I'm lucky to be a rat; nobody bothers me much and food is easy to come by.  My sisters snicker at me when I leave the nest early morning in the morning.  Rats are said to be nocturnal you see, but I just cannot help but love both times of the day.  I usually spend half of my week in the sun, letting it warm my pink little nose and streak my brown fur.  I take care not to be seen by the strange creatures who are running around and wheeling massive machines.

My favorite place is the beach.  There is a rocky wall right outside our nest that leads down the street to the sparkling water. I spend most of my time there day or night.  During the day I stay hidden in the crevices of the wall, but at night I run untamed.  I challenge the swirling dark sea of water, running in and out of the waves that are left behind.  I run down the beach in the cold sand, creating my own sandstorms.  I tackles the crabs that scurry the beach in the moonlight. But my favorite thing to do at the beach is to simply lay and admire.  The stars are what amaze me most , their sparkling dispositions and their unique formations entertain my mind for hours.

Yes, the world may be big for a small rat, such as myself, but it was created nevertheless, for us all. 

*Note:  I wrote this - this morning before I had any idea that one of my beloved pet rats had cancer and was put to sleep.  She is no longer with me and I'm terribly sad, I dedicate this tiny nothingness of work to Stella, I love you.

*(If you are incredibly confused......please read

 My Reformation )*