Friday, June 18, 2010

Diary extract No. 14 

Sometimes, when nightfalls and all the lights slowly fade away,  I whisper to the Moon. The Moon Man that fishes for two little dreams and is looking for lost little baby stars that slid from the slippery sky.  He always smiles sadly when he listens and I would like very much to hold him in my pocket. But no one has ever managed to décrocher la lune and I think he quite likes his bed of stars. And when he is shy, he hides behind the clouds and fog and you can only glimpse him winking at you. Do you think he must be so very lonely, stuck in the sky for Forever?



I am quite glum. Feeling stuck, stuck, stuck deep in treacle mines. I am like the ballerina stuck inside my music box. (She's only free when I want her to be.) Something is happening here--great, beautiful terrible things. I only catch snips of conversations behind corners, like someone has scissors and cuts them into tiny pieces so I cannot understand. Fear creeps into people's voices and steals who they really are. Sometimes, though, Fear finds the Real person way down deep inside and brings Brave up to breathe. 

 I am afraid I haven't been terribly Brave. All my diaries and notebooks are stuffed into the drawer, the key still in the keyhole so nobody can peek in. I know I must sound so very selfish, but I promise I don't mean to be. Sometimes, I feel as though I've forgotten how to write. Papa always says that if you ever feel this way, you must write and write and write until you realise that you haven't forgotten how to write, you're only feeling so many Feelings all at once that you don't know which Feelings you're feeling. 

I am feeling cold tonight. My toes feel frozen even with thick, wool socks pulled up to my knees. (Forever, forever forgetting my slippers. They are always disappearing.) My locket is tucked beneath my jumper and the gold metal is warm against my skin. It feels a little like being Loved, like being Real. And I hold on tightly to my happy thought. Never, never to let go. It is too late for tea, Maman tells me, and so I shall drink up a cup of warm milk and sugar to make me sleepy. And in my dreams tell the Moon Man of all the words Kay told me about secrets yesterday. Yesterday, when the summer air was warm, the tide was like a lullaby and the only light was from the lighthouse every thirty seconds. (We counted.) 

26 comments:

katie. said...

beautiful post :) i love your style of writing, it's positively enchanting.

killedwithkisses.blogspot.com

grace molly said...

sometimes i think the moon must be quite lonely, always he circles us but never meets.
it's strange when glumness comes a-pressing at you, but you must always try and keep in mind the wonderful things in the world, the things that make you happy. sometimes i feel i can't write what i wish to, the words come out wrong, do you get that?
i hope you do feel cheerier and your words come back right♥

fractured skeleton said...

Dearest Elly;
I just wanted to tell you how truely wonderful your writing is, whenever I see that you have posted I feel so happy, your words are like magic, they are almost really soothing and gentle, like a lullaby. I adore your little diary so much dear, and I do wish that you start to feel much more brave very soon. I too feel as though I have forgotten how to write sometimes, but I don't think we can ever truely forget, sometimes our ability just dissapears for a while, I like to think that it just goes away for a little bit on an adventure, but it always, always will return, I promise ♥

Anjelica said...

oh goodness how have I not known about your blog! It is beyond wonderful, this is Anjelica from faded-dreams on tumblr and i am in love with your blog, perfect perfect xxx

FASHION TALE / said...

Wew. This is pretty amazing. You know, I like writing too. But my friend had an fashionblog on blogspot and I like fashion too, so I was like: yeah I start one too. But after reading your blog I'm like: I should write too. I love your blog. Really.

Lizard said...

Your blog is absolutely enchanting. I am at the mercy of your amazing words.

Molly Blues said...

a really really lovely blog. it's so dreamy.. what a wonderful kingdom you created here, girl!

char said...

this is such a lovely post!
i think your blog is rather wonderful... xx

Rachel said...

Elly dear, this is lovely. So very lovely.

elly said...

Thank you, thank you. Ever so much.
xxx

maz in wonderland said...

It is true, the Moon gets terribly lonely but he always sings to me, a lullaby to put me to sleep. I will tell him to sing to you, too.
When Fear knocks on your door and you forget to be Brave, remember that we are all here, making patterns inside your tea. we linger. xxx

olivia said...

Oh, Elly love, it has been too long since I visited your wondrous blog. You swept me away with the foam of the sea, in this post; I especially love the ethereality and childhood mysticism that is encapsulated when you say, "he Moon Man that fishes for two little dreams," It's more beautiful than my poor heart can tell you; the melodious rhythm of the entire post is synonymous with the slow pulse of the sea. ♥

a. said...

sometime it's beautiful...

cody said...

lovely blog.

Mademoiselle N.D. said...

So charming. I agree that writing and writing helps bring it back again, it helps bring it out. Try not to fear the wrong words; They can eventually lead to the right ones, and sometimes, answers. Best wishes. ♡

Kim said...

i feel like this too. You are so talented its so unfair. What an art you practise. You are so delicate and dainty with words. You make me feel like it's me living your life. Maybe i am? just in a another little world, across europe. Land and sea is separating us only, but i understand your feelings truly.

Tuck up warm and take care.
x,xx

Anonymous said...

It is very lovely... but I can't help but feel it's a little TOO inspired by The Unicorn Diaries... It will suffice to fill the gap left since silly Bunny stopped posting. Thank you.

elly said...

oh no, thank you! all my words and ideas are mine and mine alone, but i'm flattered you think i am anywhere near being like Joanna.
i'm sad to say this entry wasn't inspired by Joanna, but by the feeling that lingers after you lose someone you love. it is an ache that makes you wish you were Lost as well.
xxx

holly and the wolves said...

i haven't been very brave either.

lovely blog xx

holly and the wolves said...

oh & i also meant to say, thank you for your lovely comment :) x

Violet said...

I've been feeling stuck in treacle mines too, sinking. I hide my diaries, afraid. Of what I'm not altogether sure. Possibly of the feeling of 'small'. Of it not amounting to anything.
I love it here, truly.
X

PS. The moon has the stars, and the Sun. Although they never meet. (Of course)

tia said...

Words cannot really be stopped, they come and go, but not forever. Remember what I told you about words leaving us to protect us (and I hope you understood). Your hidden diaries are simply sleeping, not buried in their graves.

As for the Moon Man, I suppose he does get lonely, but then again we all do sometimes. He is no different to you or I, except that he collects stardust whereas I collect stones. x

Jennifer Fleur said...

i wanted to tell you your blog is truly beautiful, you have a wonderful soul xxx

Georgie said...

C'est magique.

Lizard said...

Your blog is so wonderfully magical. It has made my day reading your ethereal and heartbreaking words.

Daphne said...

you are wonderful, i love your blog. it's like a little sweet wimsical fairy tale. i must add you on bloglovin and my blogroll right away.xx
love
Daphne

Post a Comment

like talking to trees, your whispers hidden in the wind. only sometimes the trees talk back. like wishing on a star and having the star wish on you. say what you like; there's always someone listening.
a very merry thank you.