My Telltale Heart

Okay, so I really should be starting to work on my book, but I feel like, the more I store up for it, the more will pour out of me when the time comes.

Plus, I really need a computer/laptop so that I can actually, you know, have a program to write in.

Oh, and I mustn't forget. I have competition: Some woman in Russia just released a Leroux sequel herself. Not good, not good, I tell you. This puts a wrench in my plans if her story is at all similar to mine... But I'll get her. I mustn't let anyone get the better of me on this. I need to get my story out even if it makes crazy little Russian girls cry.

So, besides all that though, I'm still sick as a dog. For a week straight now, this is just...draining the life out of me. I can feel myself losing weight because of it. I don't eat much anymore, just because...well, not only am I depressed, but I'm also just kinda' wasting away from the sickness.

I took a nap today, well, more like I actually passed out. I was so weak. About an hour later, I woke up, and here was the strange thing: I woke up because I could heard my heart pulsating loudly in my ears. That's how congested I am. My heart beat actually woke me up.

I'm dreaming about Erik every night it seems. He looks different each time, but oddly, he doesn't wear his mask in my dreams - ever. But he's always there. And I've said it before to my mom, but it's a strange feeling to sit there and think "I wouldn't have been good enough for him. He wouldn't like me, because I'm not elegant and pretty enough."

...Doesn't that defeat the purpose of me being the way I am?

Accepting no matter what the situation?

I don't know. It's all strange. But maybe my self esteem still influences some of my thoughts, and I do believe I have Erik on a pedestal. I worship him.

*sighs* But still, I can't really prove how much I adore him since he isn't alive anymore. Again, I have to wait until Paris. Wait until I get to Paris. Paris, Paris, Paris...
Only seven more months...

Besides that, I ...really... want to go to school. I'm getting sick of this ...stagnant life.

...and just because I want to say it: "Pustule".

He's going to kill me...

300 F#^%@* Dollars!

*laughs* ...I may be rather humble lately when it comes to my art, but I happen to be very proud of this one:



Original concept and sketch by Mah Hunny... I re-drew and took over! O_o

Seeds - Grapes - Wine - Vinegar - Air

I'm fairly exhausted today.

I just really don't want to be trapped in the house, since I'll be working so much starting on monday - which I guess that is news. Good news, I suppose. Now, I've mentioned before already that I want to get a job at the Opera House in Paris. (Which technically, it's a ballet house now, and the Opera Bastille is the new Opera House... but that's besides the point!) Well, even though I've had experience in schola cantorum and acting and money and administrative... and pretty much every aspect of work you could imagine... I figured the good thing to do would be to get in with a theatre here. Looks good on the resume, you see.

I tried at Winspear (Which I was very offended that they hadn't called since I performed at their grand opening gala!) and at the citadel, but hadn't heard anything. Thanks to Nicole, however, she inspired me to drop one off at Jubilations Theatre in the mall. Sure enough the next day they called back for an interview.

The interview went very nicely. I mentioned my plan to go to Paris in the first three seconds, and I thought that that was probably going to doom me, but Georgina got a look of excitement on her face. She had just gotten back from Paris in the spring, and had been craving going back. I was hired on the spot. So I'm working full time at the box office there, and I might end up postponing my trip a little longer just for the experience. I'm not sure yet. I don't want to make any plans since... things keep changing on me. Maybe I'll be awful at the job!

Either way, it also pays to be nice to others in high school, children! One of the girls I knew in High School, Jen, happened to work their already (and is now my supervisor) and said that she remembered me. I was very nice, apparently. Thank goodness! I always thought I was horrible! *laughs*

Maybe I'm not as bad-ass as I think I am. *laughs again* But it's fun to pretend.

....PUNJABBED!....

Erik's waited almost 200 years to meet me in Paris... he can wait a little longer, can he not?
Oh, but why this crazy desire that keeps nagging at me to go now? What do you know, heart, that you're not telling my head?

Anyway, back to being stir crazy. Yes. I'm stir-crazy.

I've been debating on whether or not to start working on my novel. I really don't want to jinx it until I get to Paris. I think if I start writing a story that is inspired by Paris that it won't end up being very good if it's written in Edmonton. Yes, I do think that's just silly.

Either way, I have a secret: I'll be writing two novels while in Paris. The other unmentioned one...that wonderful little farce... That I can start writing now. It will be marvelous I hope.

As for life otherwise, I'm trying to amuse myself, but to no avail it would seem. I think my mind has shriveled a lot as I've gotten older. I read "The Masque of the Red Death" yesterday... and there were certain parts I had to read a second time just to make sure I understood. I even re-read "The Cask of Amantillado" as well, and even that one I had to stop and think a few times. It really baffles me when I read french based stories...just how much I cannot pronounce. Or, for that matter, do not understand.

I used to speak FLUENT french, for crying outloud. What happened to me?! I can't even pronouce "monsieur" correctly anymore. Don't even get me started on spelling.

Random little words are coming back here and there, like 'Aujourd hui" ... which apprently means 'today'? ... or tomorrow... Three years from now... GOD. My brain is awful.

Oh well. Either way, I think I've rambled enough.

Don Juan Triumphant

I've been finally getting a lot out of my mind which has been building up, it would seem.

Erik is my muse. I didn't realize it until a couple days ago, when suddenly I was having ideas again. I haven't had artistic ideas in so long.

Ironically, the angel of music seems to be dropping by at random. Perhaps, not the unearthly blessings that are usually bestowed, but it's a hell of a lot nicer than the crap I've been turning out over the years.

Finally, I can start expressing myself again. Oh, I can only imagine what sort of words I'll put to paper once I get to Paris. I'm still wondering if Jen will go with me. She never really answered me when I asked her to.

I really hope that I can officially be known as "The artist who does the Phantom of the Opera Artwork all the time." Except, you know... people would know my name.

I really want people to feel something when they look at my art. I want to make people feel again. I still have SO much to learn though.

I know I'll get better. I love this Open Canvas one I did... It's for an Illustrate the Lyrics contest in the Phantom Club on DeviantART. I chose a rather random part in the ALW Musical... Where La Carlotta is making fun of Erik's opera, Don Juan Triumphant.

Now, I just have to break my geekyness, and remember that Artistic license is taken when writing plays, and fan novels. I'm very disappointed with the Kay novel already, and I haven't even read it yet. I hope mine won't put shame to the story. Ah well..

He is always there inside my mind...

He's always there...

Oh the joy of being trapped in your own mind...

and then suddenly being freed. You literally sit there like a beaten dog, because you don't know what to do. You don't know whether to accept it. You don't know if you should step from your cage and run...

I feel like that.

I'm still going to Paris. I'm still going to look for him. Or what is left, whatever have you. Believe me, I know the soul no longer resides in the body upon death. I'm very aware of this, and exposed to it often. I had to close the lid on her after all.

But I do believe in ghosts. I do believe in reincarnation. I do believe in the power of ones own mind. I believe in it all. Why is it all so hard for me to swallow when it steps into my own world then? I find myself stumbling, and I'm confused, and unsure of ...what to believe in.

It's... so bewildering. I can believe it's true. But I can't seem to keep it down.

Swallow. Don't choke, Chelsey. Take it down. Take a sip of water. You'll be fine. You'll be loved by one and the same.

Souls on Fire

There are so many things I want to get out of my head, but without being in Paris, I can't put a single word to paper. I might contradict myself when it comes to the story.

Still, my head, my heart, my soul screams of nothing but Paris. There are still a whopping eight months that I have yet to wait until I can go (even though I found a flight for a mere $100...it was so VERY tempting, but I don't even have enough for that yet.) and I'm going stir crazy.

I know that I was not meant for this world, that I should have been born in a different time, so why is it that I feel that way? Why am I convinced that the world was so much better when people could die from chicken pox and the flu? When there were no video games? When there was no female rights? Perhaps because of the respect that everyone demanded of themselves. Women were respected more as objects than they are now as equals. A kiss on the hand was almost mandatory then, but now I find myself completely floored if I stumble across a real gentleman. I'm more curious to see if there are in fact more men like this on the other side of the world. I know I was viewed very highly while in Japan. Respect followed me, and I did have to earn it.

There's so many things I hope to find over there. Perhaps where I belong in this world, since I can't go back in time to where I feel I belong. I've truly forgotten who I am in the last 10 years. I used to be rather sure of myself. I used to know what my personality was, even if I didn't know much about the world around me. I was book smart. Not street smart.

Now it would seem the tables have turned. I definitely do not feel clever or intelligent like I used to. It's strange, I know I'm smart, but boy do I feel stupid. Everything about me right now seems to be a contradiction.

I'm in love with two men. One alive, one gone for over two hundred years now. Or at least, nearly two hundred years, and of course, that in itself doesn't make any sense at all. No, I won't go into details. I don't really feel like sharing really. It's none of your business.

No, this is between me and my brain. The one who continuously seems to betray me.

Eitherway, I will be spending quite a bit of time in Paris. Possibly a year, I'm unsure. But there's so much I plan to do while there. In fact, I hope to find my career there as an Opera singer. Following my child dream... the one that I stifled because I didn't think I was good enough. Or that I could actually make a living off it.

Certainly, I am being smart about it. I'm not going to chase my dreams until I can no longer run, I just need to go for myself to see if I can achieve them at all. My book, my voice, my teacher... all of it can be found in Paris. It's just all these WORDS that I can't seem to hold inside me.

Have you ever gotten to the point where there is SO much inside you that you just want to scream to get it out?

I feel like that every single day now. There's so much I want to give, so much I want to show the world, so much compassion I want to share. So much PASSION.
I guess the real question is whether I can be brave enough to share it all, and perhaps whether the world wants to receive any of it.

...I could keep rambling about this for hours, but really. What good would it do? I have eight months to wait, to fill with words that won't get me closer to where I need to be.

My hands shake when I think I'm not where I'm supposed to be. That I have to wait.

What if whatever is calling me has no patience. What if my special thing that is calling me will not wait for me? What if I don't make it there in time, and the magic disappears.

What do I do then?