The Asymptotic Faery - The Writings of Allyson N. Jason

Current Mood: Playful

I’ve had a desire to write since I was very young. I’ve always had a very active, vivid, wild and expressive imagination. When I told a story to someone, they’d always listen and find what I had to say fascinating because I was skilled with taking people on a journey. I always explored the “what if” and the unusual. So naturally, I had delightful and entertaining stories to tell.

I can remember all of the poems, short stories and random writings I created in the past. I wrote my first short story at age 9 which turned out to be nearly 40 pages. I’d written stories before but they were random short writings that I played around with. The short story I wrote at this point in time was for a 4th grade class assignment. Each student was instructed to write a 4-5 page short story. I decided to write a short story on one of my favorite games at the time: Alex Kidd in Miracle World. It was a game for the now defunct but ever-nostalgic Sega Master System console.

Our teacher wanted each of us to present our stories in front of the class by reading it aloud. I was excited about this and wanted to share what I had written with classmates eagerly. Once it was my turn to take center stage in front of the class and deliver my story, I remember seeing the expressions of several classmates as they listened. Many stopped what they were doing, as if they were in mild trances and their eyes became fixated on me. They were captivated by my Alex Kidd fan fiction story and all of its surreal descriptions and scenes. The teacher was very impressed with my tale and immediately praised my writing after I finished presenting. She gave me an A on the assignment and said that I should write more stories because I had natural talent.

I felt great about her support and very proud of my writing. Toward the middle of that year, I began experimenting with funnies, comic strips and various accompanying illustrations. I would show the same instructor my creations and she continued encouraging me and said she found my strips amusing and humorous. I was certainly inspired to write further. While waiting to be picked up after-school , I began writing poems with illustrations on blank paper that came in a multitude of colors. I’d go around showing these works to various kids on the playground, after-school counselors and other teachers to see their reactions. I had as much fun revealing my writings to others as I did creating them. It was my own quirky way of entertaining myself.

Writing poetry became an intense habit. Over the next several years, I wrote many poems and my writing became more sophisticated and expressive. I started to write poetry not only as a way to creatively express myself, but as a form of therapy to explore and purge my emotions. As an eccentric and solitary child, my writing and artwork were my best friends.

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Regarding Madeleine L’Engle:

She’s one of my long-time favorite authors. I totally wasn’t aware of her passing last year. She was certainly along in years but this is still a surprise.

Shows how often I pay attention to the outside world at times…

In a sense I do but I don’t. I am so caught up in carving out my own path and carrying my voice.

I have a lot of writing pieces from my past all scattered about in my room and the house in various notebooks, tablets and folders. They should all be located, organized and updated (if applicable) and then rewritten within word documents. It’s fascinating to look back at writing that I did several years ago and observe how I expressed myself then compared to now. There are several unfinished stories, both short and long that I totally forgot about until now, since I’ve been giving more thought and development to my current writing project.

I think I was able to focus on my writing in a very fluid manner because it wasn’t ambitious…it was just expressive. In the last couple of days, I struggled with a bit of frustration toward my writing. That familiar blocked feeling made itself present and I tried working through it by finding out what was at the source. The source was impatience, great expectations and urgency. None of these feelings promote a creative flow. I just wind up choking.

I feel better about getting to the root and examining my frustration because it’s very self-imposed. I realize that some things are going to take some time especially if so many details and ideas are involved. For example, it took J.K. Rowling 5 years to write her first book in the Harry Potter series although the ideas came to her quickly on a train. She wanted to get published but for the most part, felt a need to write and get her characters and story out of her mind.

I am trying to do that and it is helping. I’ve managed to come up with more details about the origins of Pink Laughter Kingdom, the plot, more characters as well as epic roles that main characters will play as the story evolves. I also try to write daily or at least frequently. If I don’t do any writing for the day with my story, then I try to keep myself in spirit of writing by blogging and spitting out experimental work. I hadn’t really looked into what “experimental writing” until recently. I had this common-sense-notion of what kind of writing would fit in genre and I was curious about where some of my writing fit. Some writing that I do would not be classified as poetry or prose but rather short descriptive and often metaphorical settings, scenes and interactions. Experimental writing seems like the most suited category especially since the often-vaguely-described genre includes writing fragmentations.

As for my current writing project, I’ll concern myself with the business side of things later. I’ll still have my goals and they will be considered to some degree, but they aren’t going to be the leading motivation…for now. Just writing.

I managed to get to the gym yesterday morning at 5 am. As I wrote before, my gym opens at this time. I was dead wrong in assuming that the place would have very few people there at that hour. So wrong that I had to find a parking space on the 4th floor. It makes sense. The gym is expensive and there are probably many working professionals who prefer to do their workouts in the morning before hitting work. Early birds and risers…although I’d consider myself an early drifter. And speaking of expensive, that is another good reason for me to start going regularly again. I pay 80 dollars a month at this place and if I don’t go, I might as well consider the place a source of charity.

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So where do I want to take my writing? What do I see for my future?

Well, that’s the thing. There are so many roads to take but the first ones that come to mind are in the realm of:

1. developing a story for an RPG game (ideally for a console)
2. setting up a strong foundation for character profiles and the world they inhabit (series of children’s’ books or novels)
3. screen writing for television
4. detailed and descriptive content for creating a lifestyle brand out of my Pink Laughter Kingdom world concept

These are some goals I’d like to accomplish. Right now, goal 1, 2 and 4 take center stage and in that union, 1 and 4 are the biggest targets.

I don’t have all of the answers when it comes to how I will accomplish these goals. Like I mentioned before, this is all new territory for me. So I am learning as I go along and finding out how I will organize some of these plans….all the while acclimating to the writing process again.

I keep thinking of the quote, “If you build it, they will come.” I certainly think that applies here.

As for Pink Laughter Kingdom, I realize this is going to take awhile. I will need to do a lot of research for referencing. For example, if I am going to talk about the social and political structure of the kingdom, then I need to look around at information on actual social systems of past and present to base this on. The intent is not to completely copy but to get some foundation and to innovate from that point on. This is like building a micronation. So I must think about bartering systems, form of government, currency, flag, rules, laws, principles, colors, culture and much more.

So far, I have the general idea developed for the origins of Pink Laughter Kingdom and I have a few character profiles fleshed out. I have more characters established but they are just in illustrative mode at this point. I need to take time to figure out how to build their profiles so that they fit in the world design plausibly and with other characters that have already been developed.

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Current Mood: Introspective

This site is one of many places in which I’ll be publishing some of my writings…and of course getting practice.

It’s always been weird to give myself the label of writer although I’ve always had a writer’s spirit. In my mind, I’ve always reserved that label for published writers who became successful, rich and famous from their works; Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Anne Rice, J.K Rowling and the like. Not me.

I’ve only just began to really get into my writing in an ambitious sense. The writer spirit has always been within and I’d let it out often when I was younger. I wrote as an emotional outlet. I wrote to bleed and to purge my system. The Bleeding came to a halt once I was out of high school. I slipped out of this inclination and busied myself with so many mundane worries and mindfuck episodes. I carried my writing a bit into my early college years, but again, I slowly forgot about bleeding and the toxins started to build.

I found myself without productive outlets of expression. I was on autopilot and didn’t stop as much as I should have to reflect and ponder about my frenzied motions and daily gestures.

Well as the years came and went, I started getting into shadowboxing. I was in the Vicarious Age and I just couldn’t bring myself to live in the spirit of authenticity and expression directly, although the pull and calling was always there. I danced around the perimeters and watched others conduct their magic rituals within the circle of progress. All I could do was shout out tips and advice about how to work better spells and create more elaborate and engaging mojo bags and charms. Accompanying this spectatorship was an intense schadenfreude inspired urge to disassemble the altars and snuff out of the candles of those within the circle. I could make them better magicians with my direction and often did, but I failed to get in there and call upon my own magic abilities.

I got tired and wanted to get back in touch with the magician within myself.

Creating and inventing is my magic. It’s my calling. Writing is a tool that I’ve decided to pick up again and get acquainted with. But I am in the process of learning how to advance my weaponry skills.

The difficult part about getting back into writing is that I have so many ideas; a bottomless well of them, however, I must get myself comfortable with the process of creation and establishing a vision.

I would describe this challenge in two different ways:

1. You are standing in the middle of a massive and vast space of land as far as your eyes can see in any direction. You are the creator and you have free reign to design and theme this environment however you want. There’s no limit.

2. You are an architect that has designed interiors before. But you’ve been commissioned to completely design a large palace. The objective is a humongous task and you must come up with the entire blueprint for both the interior and exterior layout.

In both of these examples, there’s a feeling of excitement and euphoria due to the infinite possibilities of creative expression. I can be as innovative and pioneering as I want. However, I find myself feeling anxious, overwhelmed and intimidated because of the level of responsibility, planning and organization that must go into the laboring process for any vision that I might have within the contexts of being a creator.

Well, that’s the way I feel about writing right now. I find that I am not sure what road to take, how to approach certain ideas or slow myself down to really become patient with the process of development. This is new for me. I’ve never written a novel, I’ve never completed a full script. I’ve never done anything in an ambitious sense and on a larger scale overall.

I’ve worked hard many times in my life, and I’ve produced some very innovative writing works which have gained attention and admiration, but again I am very much in a World Creator context with a purpose and calling, which is different than before.

If I can relax and know that time is on my side and as a result, eventually see “my palace” or “civilization” come alive, then I can pace myself through the process. I’ll find that my excitement won’t be such a distraction. I can let it work its charms and develop a feeling of entitlement and comfort in being a creator.

I will also realize that everything doesn’t have to be done all at once on a massive scale. Who says I need to create a palace or world in one day. I might aim for that, but it’s going to involve a lot of trail, error and experimentation. No writing project is perfect or satisfactory the first time around and not all writing projects should even be ambitious.

All writing is good writing in this stage…because it helps me to get the process going in some way or another.

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Current Mood: Indescribable

“So what do you do for a living?”
“I bake snakes.”

“What did you think? That two men couldn’t have sex together and not mistake a knife for a fork?”

“How’s that washer and dryer unit working?”

She began laughing insanely and writhing violently on that filthy mattress.

“I am inclined to think that any man can chew his way through his own fat if he wanted to.”

“What’s so funny about this? I don’t know anyone else? Do you? Because I’ve got a lot of jitters in my heart and each time I expel, the world moves with me.”

“Susan doesn’t think with all of her sunsets. Eventually, they’ll all expire and that will be the Ends of Days for her.”

“I know plenty of Christmas men. They are proud, strong and think with a good hunter and gatherer instinct. That’ll make any mother proud, that she’ll sparkle like a tree and her love will burn like an eternal flame in the passions and throes of the holy fireplace of life.”

“Harmony and precincts go together. When one is absent, there’s no place for individuals to gather in championship and peace.”

“Why those would make a fine pair of gloves! Just hollow out the flesh and bone and hang them up to dry.”

“You sure had me fooled. I thought you were lost. But now I recognize you again and we look the same.”

The room was very dark, however upon close inspection; she could make out a vague shadow standing in the corner near the heavily curtained windows. The shadow appeared to be rocking back and forth in short sluggish movements. The head looked to be misshapen and the body was somewhat amorphous; long exaggerated extremities and bodily edges that looked to be viscous in texture.
There was a peculiar smell of smoke about the room. She held in her breath and lowered herself further below the bed’s mattress level. The shadow began to slowly but steadily drift toward the bed in intermittent but brief displays of disappearances. It looked like a constant play of flickers and with each flicker, the shadow became less amorphous and more revealing…

“Charlie! Charlie!! Please listen to me! Listen to me!!”

“Would you stop yelling?! What’s the matter with you? Why were you screaming like that? “

“I can’t help it! There’s something down there and we have to get out of here!! I know what I saw and…Oh Charlie I am so scared!”

“You stay right here. I am going to go –”

“No!!! Please don’t go!! You’ll be in danger! Please!! Listen to me!”

“Alright, alright! Calm down and tell me what you saw.”

“I…I….I heard this humming sound while I was reading on the couch and it was coming from the refrigerator. So I decided to check it out and…Oh Charlie…”

“Go on…go on.”

“I decided to check it out and I opened the refrigerator. I saw this other world Charlie! This other world!”

“What the fuck do you mean this other world? Are you out of your goddamned fucking mind! You must have been dreaming.”

“No no no!!! I wasn’t dreaming!! I saw it Charlie, I saw acres and acres of moving fields, tall zigzagged blades of grass and big mountains staggering in a darkening horizon! It looked like I could fall right through. I thought I was seeing things but I wasn’t Charlie! I continued to look and before I knew it, the heads of these gel-like creatures appeared around the corners of the refrigerator from inside the view! They had large foreheads and I could see everything inside their heads…there was something, like a central eye in the forehead and that made me see a face when I looked into it. Christ! It was my own fucking face and I could see myself opening my mouth really freakishly wide like I was going to attack myself!! Eat myself whole! My face got closer and I thought I was going to fall into my own mouth and get swallowed so that’s when you heard me scream and I couldn’t stop screaming Charlie! I closed the door and ran upstairs as fast I could!”

“Evening Sir”
“Evening”
“Say, do you know where Oakley Avenue is?”
“I do. It’s one more street over. Just continue down this path and you’ll see it. You can’t miss it”
“Wondeful. Thank you sir!”
“My pleasure.”
The stranger’s eyes crinkled tightly around the corners, he smiled and continued watering his grass.
George turned around to survey the path down the neighborhood road. He could see the street, that the stranger referenced, just down the path.
“Say sir, I have one more quest–”
The stranger was gone, along with his house and the entire neighborhood. Right in front of George was a door in the hue of soft dull blue. On the door was a label that said Oakley Avenue in bold Baskerville type. George was stunned and bewildered. He turned around again and saw that the back wall of an empty sterile room, in the same color of the door, had replaced the view of the neighborhood road.
George faced the door again and saw that it was now slightly ajar and a glowing yellow light was coming through.
George gave the room another look in complete confusion and apprehensively decided to push the door further open and explore…

“I don’t like mustard. I especially don’t like runny mustard. It’s sickening, it’s vile and very horrifying…and when I hear her talk, I become devastatingly ill.”

“I smoke cigarettes because I can. You drink because you can’t. Our convictions are different.”

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Current Mood: Motivated

I haven’t done much writing for self lately and I feel so much better when I do it. I think I will do this more often by either keeping some private entries with this journal or using one of my other journals to write in for self-actualization and insight.

It is scary to suddenly realize that the room you are in is much much bigger than you imagined. It can be interesting in the sense that you get to explore more territory and discover new things, but it is uncomfortable because now you are challenged to get acquainted in a completely new environment, or the structure of one, than one you’ve been used to. The environment you’ve been in has even been a part of shaping how you self-define. With a new room structure or expansion, you have to redefine yourself in very demanding ways. It requires strength, bravery, honesty and assertion. Most people are very uncomfortable with that - highly so. They’d rather pretend as if the room they are in is the same when it is not or deny that any extension exists or could exist. They’d rather stay stagnant and limited in growth. So the world and self becomes defined very static designs.

Yes change and growth along with self-realization is very disquieting and even terrifying sometimes for some, but I’d rather face that than to remain repressed and in constant delusion…holding onto this as a religion of some sort. That to me is terrifying. I can’t bring myself to accept that kind of limitation or ignorance and I can’t naturally see staying in it once I’ve seen more of something. How could I?

I seriously can’t see a meaningful life without self-insight, growth and awareness…because everything you’d stand for, believe, know or claim would be based on nothing. You are just going through the motions and prentending there’s a strong and fitting identity but it’s just a constant state of identity moratorium or at most it’s need to feel secure and safe, but again this kind of security can be stifling, smothering and even destructive. I believe a life purpose can’t be defined or realized in this state either. Well one that is truly one’s own. Your choices can’t ever be the right fit because to know is to harmoniously choose. I believe this is each person’s journey, or at least it should be…however it develops and wherever it leads for them uniquely…but it should be a journey and challenge we all have the courage to face nonetheless.

If I had to say what my purpose (or purposes) in life was…I’d say it was to create, invent, learn and inspire…generally put. I state this generally because there are many concrete ways in which I can do these things. I do sense a strong writer’s path within and I haven’t fully tapped into that as I’ve always wanted. I wrote more in the past with utter compulsiveness but over time, that slowed down and I got distracted by other things - basically the calls of society/trying to make a way and fit within this machine, this network, this system. I’ve always known that I’ve been drawn to creative expression, art and so forth and I know that I have a spiritual purpose. I can define my path of purpose to this degree so far but I still need to invest more time to myself to further define and carve. I am not confused or ignorant of my direction and the elements of my purpose. It is this…

I have a lot of energy…it’s very intense and it’s explosive, however, it’s all over the place and I need to harness it. So it’s a blessing and a “curse” all at once. I know this.

I also know that some things about myself will continue to alienate me from many people when it comes to connecting on a deep level. I can easily be frustrated due to this and I know I can get quite impatient but as someone mentioned to me lately and validated what I knew, (and this is true) my challenge is then to learn how to communicate and relate to some people in a way in which my expression is best understood and to not assume my view is automatically decoded or even shared. Not everything is quantum in nature for most people and I have to remember this. I guess in my own way, I can struggle with intolerance. This is nothing but awareness to admit and realize…without any ego or agenda to brag or illuminate myself in a boastful manner. This is just my reality and my experience and I know it will continue to be…but I am interested in continuing to broaden my horizons and my communication abilities.

The beginning of the year is the beginning of the year, but psychologically it’s a nice way to highlight or revisit goals, so I will do this and I look forward to that.

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