Life after Books

” but there is this unwritten contract between author and reader and I think not ending your book kind of violates that contract.”
                                        John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

I recently read a book by John Green Fault in Our Stars and it was definitely an interesting read. Now I am not going to write a review on this story because I have my opinion and that is mine only. However, it made some interesting points about characters and endings of stories, and it made me question my own thoughts.


When a story is placed upon paper, characters and situations are born. They may not be real in existence, but they are real on the page. They are given a background, a life, a history, upon which they evolve into deeper beings. Simply immortalized in words. They are brought to life through their personalities. We learn their likes, dislikes, their ability to bond with other characters. No being is created from thin air. Even those that maybe only mentioned once or twice, they still play a part. It is this creation that poses a problem. As a reader you form your own opinion of each character, you seem to bond with them, learn to love or hate them. Yet when the problem of the story has been solved and the book comes to a close, you face a problem. Does that story really end there? What happens afterwards? Is the light turned off for good? Are these characters thrown in to a disposal bin of endings?

It was this thought that puzzled me the most. Do we really need to know what happens after that last page has ended, after that last period? If a story ends in a happen ending, is it really necessary to think about them more? The answer is no. They are simply words on a page that have been written for our enjoyment only. They are not biographies of life. They are not real people. It is not realistic to end all stories with a happy ending, the characters living a perfect life with everything resolved and dying peacefully in their sleep. That itself would pose more questions than answers.

 So what if a story ends in the middle, not completing the story. Take Hazel for example, the reader learns everything, if not more, that we need to know as if she was a real being beside us. Yet as the story progresses, so does our attachment to the character. This is our downfall. When the story dramatically ends, with no explanation, we are left with disappointment. What happened next? Did she live happily? Was she cured? The only person who knows is the character herself. Even her creator doesn't know. It is in this ending that we are able to write our own endings. Each one unique as the person next to us. Yes we may still be left with that question , what happened, burning our curiosity bit by bit, but stories life this imitate life perfectly. Just as 'stories end in the middle of a sentence' with no reason, our life can end at any second, without reason and those around will be left asking questions.

It is simply our nature to question everything and not to take it at face value. It is what it is. This is why I think John Green has hit the proverbial nail on the head. I would leave this post in the middle of a sentence, but I do not have the will power to do so.

So I will leave it with this conclusion. Forming your own answers in your mind is more appropriate than reading a solid ending in a story. You can create your own world for these characters, and no one will question it.

Sparks of a Thought

“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”
― Oscar Wilde


Life is a funny thing. We spend all our time trying to survive in the world that we forget how to really live. Not the 'breathe, eat, sleep, repeat' routine that we have all mastered - but the real type of living. We are not immortal. We know our time can be up at any point. The hands on a clock can stop and the beating of our hearts can too;  yet why do we act like we are invincible? Why do we believe that nothing can get in the way of our superior lives? Anything can happen, yet we still take our lives for granted. 

It seems that we have a selfish desire for life, to see how far we can push it either by rising above others no matter the consequences or spending the days doing the bare minimum. Is that really a life worth living?

On the other hand, some people live to make themselves happy; mothers and fathers, or husbands and wives. In the process they sacrifice a part of them and forget who they are as a person. Perhaps they still have their own life to live but have to compromise to reach their dreams. Is it that hard to be happy?

One's definition of happy is always different to another. A singer in a band could be happy because he spends his days doing what he loves; but is that all he lives for? A mother seeing her child succeed in life could also be happy, but has she fulfilled all her dreams and wishes? We take it for granted that tomorrow will arrive, that the sun will set for another day. But what happens if it doesn't? What happens if it was to be your last day? Would you be happy with how you lived your life? Have you completed all the things that you set out to achieve?

If I were to answer that question, it would be a no. Yours would be too. No-one can be satisfied. As humans we are always wanting more than we can have; whether it's that holiday you were planning for next year, or the M.A course you decided to enrol in. The truth is, none of us will ever be truly happy. It's ok though - we only have this life to live so why take unnecessary risks, to not achieve something you wanted so deeply? Why set yourself up for heartache when you are comfortable with the position you are in now?

As a consequence we will always be riddled with the question - What if?

What if?
 

Write like no-one's watching...

Contrariwise…if it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be but as it isn’t, it ain’t. That’s logic.

In the ten months I have been here in the UAE, I have spent the majority of my Saturday evenings writing. Sometimes it is a simple ramble like this, other perhaps inspired by the weekly events that have occurred. Some mould themselves around the people I meet. Some may be created from a deep emotion stirred within me. They all have something in common; they are my masterpiece.  I may not as poetic as Shakespeare or dramatic as Tolkien, but to me they are my prized possessions. My life written on paper; they are words scrambled across the field of lines.  Occasionally they make sense, the rest evolve as an organised mess.  

It is not a case of how I write, the techniques used, or the formation of the words – it is what I write that matters most. I write what I know. To me, nobody is a literary genius; anyone can write. In the same breathe no-one can criticise the way you express yourself. There is no right or wrong.  Every word you put into a sentence is unique. It is your snowflake. There may be a moment in time were someone will be jealous or angry at your words, but you will learn to deal with that.

Whether it is the pen scratching paper or your fingers pressing the keys, the letters appear creating words that shape the sentences to come. They shine for you. They show your strengths, your weaknesses – but more importantly – your story. Your story is your own. No-one can speak any different.

This is my story. I write because I can. It’s my form of escapism (besides reading that is). I write whatever forms into my head. I remember someone asking me back in December “Why do you write so much?” 

Well if I were not to write, all the thoughts in my head have nowhere to go. They need to be released in to the physical world.  Scratch that; I would actually end up insane (if that were possible since I fell down the rabbit-hole a long time ago).  

Speaking of rabbit-holes, I think some people tonight have fell down them and have yet to escape. Everyone seems to be wilder than usual. With that in mind, this post shall take its’ leave and bid you farewell.

The further off from England the nearer is to France –

Then turn not pale, beloved snail but come and join the dance.

                Will you, wo’n’t you, will you, w’o’nt, will you join the dance?

                Will you, wo’n’t you, will you, w’o’nt, wont you join the dance?

A Note From MJR to DRG

1. bass

A four stringed instrument, part of the rhythm section in a band. No band is complete without a bassist.

Bass is, after all, the sexiest instrument.

 
What do you get a guy to say thank you for a being a friend? Thank you for feeding my reading habits. Thank you for the comfort you brought with you. Simply just thank you.
My Friend told me that I should accept the gifts as gifts and that some people don't want anything in return. But me being me, I can't take without giving back. So I have placed myself into quite a predicament.

This is nothing you can fix with a tacky fridge magnet or a key-chain. It's more personal than that. Well, unless there was something that said "You had me at your correct use of the apostrophe", but I don't think one exists.

Yet as I'm writing this note, I seem to almost answer my question. What better gift can I give you than the power of words? I promise this isn't a stalker note, I'd rather do that in person.

It's like my first post written in Paco's and this goodbye post has drawn a complete circle around itself. My first was about the beautifully talented Diesel Band I saw back in October. That resulted in a game of who could embarrass who the most. I clearly lost. Ain't No Sunshine was the first time you uttered my name on stage. Calling me out on the post I wrote about you and your band-mates. I should have known then that it would be the start of a weird acquaintance/friendship.

Lines did blur once or twice but outside influences soon corrected the tracks. Some of those influences were logical whereas others were jealousy and psychotic (not naming any names but one happens to be hidden in my name). We knew the truth and that was what mattered the most.

Fast forward a few months and the teasing began once again. This time in the shape of monsters and stalkers. I did some legal research and did you know that pimping is a crime. Unfortunately, your form of pimping didn't involve money so you won't be punished. Before you say "is that still pimping then?", it is.  Giving out a female's name on stage so people will find her on facebook to 'get to know her' is a type of modernised pimping. That wasn't cool man.

It is good to look back and laugh at all the crazy things that have happened though. Crazy to think that in a short while, it will be the last time I will see you. You're leaving for a new destination, playing your bass, breaking new hearts and causing more mayhem along the way.

I wish you all the best in your endeavours, your conquests and your music. I shall end this note the way I ended the first....

Rocking out to Linkin Park and ironically in the end it didn't really matter that I was some ordinary girl sitting in the corner of a bar writing. This is the music. This is me. This is you

Love, 

Melissa (a.k.a MJR)

Broken Hearts and Torn Up Letters

False face must hide what the false heart doth know

  - William Shakespeare

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/w/william_shakespeare_2.html#mfFEewiobEAOeiXX.9

Games. As much as we had to admit it, we are all involved in a game. Whether you're the one making the rules, or the one following them, you are in a game. Just like any ordinary game there is a winner and a loser. Sometimes, the rules can change and the people playing both lose. The outcome of the game can depend on strength will-power and logic. If you become to emotional the results can be disastrous. Once you start playing, each move you make becomes dangerous and risky. There is no way out.

Take this game for example. Two people caught up in a game of Lust. Actually make that four people, more dramatic ending. It's the classic  'I want what I can't have but I will try and take it anyway' scenario. One person caught in a trap with several entanglements Does she choose the spark between a lover known for a day, the chemistry with a dangerous attraction, or does she choose the connection between a 'more than' friend?

Lets break it down even further. The first: The Lover. An instant spark between two people set in a scene fuelled by alcohol. Surprisingly the lovers met during a moment of sobriety but as more liquid was consumed, the hormones began to take over resulting in drunken promises of faithfulness, protection with the inclusion of number-swapping. The outcome will most likely result in akwardness and perhaps the blocking of the whole night were the two people will never meet again. Or it could swing the other way and something beautiful will become of the meeting. However this causes friction amongst others included and changes the game completely.

This takes us to the second part: The attraction. Two people once caught in the trap of attraction mixed with passion and intellect. A dangerous combination with consequences that have affected the whole game and its' players. Two people who had to draw a line in their meeting to keep one player from a broken heart. Yet the attraction has now become all one-sided. A mark has been left in one's head and is saddened when the other player is in charge of his own game with many other contestants, maybe one or two in a night. The loser then watches from the sidelines constantly comparing the winner to other participants in her court. She will be wondering when can she break free from the spell to play her endeavours free from jealousy and longing.

The two situations bring on the final part, the result. The decision: The Connection. As the act between The Lover and The Attraction unfolds, the understudy is waiting behind the curtains, watching every move she makes and every line she speaks. He patiently waits for his turn in the game but it never comes. She has placed him in a compartment in her heart safely locked away. Two people caught in a never-ending circle of hidden emotions which threaten to explode. The Attraction fades away in to the night one more time and The Lover takes centre-stage. This is the moment in which the players will know the outcome. No more rule-changing. No more manipulation. Brutality is amongst them. The Connection admits defeat and walks away leaving the lovers to their finale. They win the game and each other.

However, like all games, there is a final twist: The Heartbreak. As The Connection player walks away, he is forced back in to the game when she realises the consequences of dallying in such a sport. The Connection no longer wants to be a part, and two hearts break at once. The Lover is forgotten immediately, The Attraction is no longer holding a spell over her but it's too late. She has lost. No more drawings, no more communication with words and technology, no more smiles. She realises it's her fault. It was her all along. No one was playing games but her. She was manipulating situations to suit her, not noticing the effects it would have on the participants. A moment too late and the game is over.

The End is Near

The end is near. Well for my contract in the Middle East that is. It is hard to believe that this time last year I had sent off my CV to a teaching agency on a whim. I wasn’t hoping to get an interview after all I hadn’t even completed the PCET course. I had a back plan of course – supply teaching. I didn’t want to raise my hopes for them to be knocked back down. Yet never in a million years would I have thought of applying for a full-time teaching position in the Middle East. For me to do that I would have to step out of my comfort zone and open myself to rejection on a grander scale.  Nevertheless I put myself out there and waited for the inevitable reply. I didn’t have to wait long though. A few days later and I received an offer letter to be signed and returned as soon as possible. Time after that seemed to pass in a blink of an eye.  A year on and I am currently going through the same progress – signing an offer letter for next yet.

The thing that has me most excited is my vacation time in July. I will be going home. Though I will only be in the UK for four weeks as I have my very own Euro-trip booked; by Euro-trip I mean Newcastle – Amsterdam – Rotterdam – Stockholm – Gothenburg. Hopefully my next summer vacation will include Finland, Hungary and Denmark. When discussing my plans with my family over skype, my brother appeared and stated I should visit Krakow, Poland. His reasoning for this, which is horribly amusing, is to see how many Polish live there since the UK is swarmed with them. Slightly racist brother I have there.

I have been thinking about my plans for the British summer and I realised I will definitely need to make time for my best friend’s first new-born baby.  I am so ecstatic for her. It’s surreal that the girl  I grew up with for eleven years is about to be a mother.  She’s all grown up now. It also reminds of my little girl waiting at home for me – my beautiful nightmare of a niece. I can’t wait to shower her in kisses and maybe cause some mischief around the town with her. My Lillie-bug is one hilarious child. I am so grateful that she hasn’t forgotten me. 

In other news, someone recently mentioned to me about remembering me when I have published my work and it got me thinking; why do I need to publish my work? Is it to earn money? For someone criticise my work publicly? So everyone knows who I am? If these are the reasons  then my answer is no. I write to let my feelings out. I am not bothered if no-one or everyone reads it. It’s my hobby, my own pleasure – no-one else’s. I may link my posts on social network sites, but that is so one of my good friends can read it- and nothing else.

I am currently in the middle of writing a book – continuing what I had started in university for an assignment. Again this is for me only; to see what I can accomplish. I remember listening to my English tutor say to me: “Even if you only write a 100 words a week, you can still write a  complete novella or even a novel, but it all depends on your state of mind and whether you want  to finish something you have started.” This stuck with me for 3 years, but I didn’t return to my story until recently. 

It’s amazing what changes a person can go through without really knowing. I am still the girl who watches the world rather than participates, but at the end of the day I know what risks are worth taking and which choices are simply unrealistic. Whether it’s my upcoming plans for the summer, or my continuous need to write something, I know life has plenty of things in store for me.

Well that s enough writing for now,

See you on the other side of the Internet

Melissa

No lights with tealights.

And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet, and the winds long to play with your hair.
                                                                                 - Khalil Gibran


 At 8.30pm on 29th March, the UAE became involved in a worldwide movement known as Earth Hour. As an attempt to tackle climate change households, businesses, and individuals are encouraged to switch of all sources of unnatural light for one hour. It was this particular event that shed light upon another topic - technology.

Let me recreate the scene that unfolded before my eyes to help you understand the nature of this topic. I was sitting in my usual spot in a bar when tealights were placed upon each table, the lights were flicked off, and the televisions no longer played the monotony sport of football. As odd as it seemed, the atmosphere was quite romantic - that is if you looked past the a collection of guys drunkenly raising their voices in a dark corner. For that one hour it felt nice to take a step back from reality. Yet it made me wonder; what would happen if the world shut off more than the lights? Would the world crumble around us, or would humanity adapt to the change. Evidence in my surroundings would support the former. It had only been five minutes and the majority of those present, including myself, resorted to using a mobile phone as a source of light or entertainment. Five minutes. That was all it took.

What had happened to the days were we weren't glued to some form of technology: mobiles, laptops, Ipads or Ipods. Is life really that bad that we need to check our messages within every second that passes? Is it too hard to talk to someone face-to-face? Is it too  difficult to put pen to paper and send a letter? Today's society would say yes it is. No-one has time to send letters instead of texts. No-one wants to take the risk of knocking on someone's door and speaking to them in person.

It shocked me that in the UAE, children as young as three have been introduced to and/or using some form of technology. Are we that engrossed in it that it has now ruled our lives. It is kind of hypocritical of me to type about such a topic when I had been texting throughout the writing of this post, but it further proves my point. We would not survive living in a world with no technology, no means to communicate faster. Socialising no longer exists in the original sense that it was meant to be. Could we ever go back to how we were before technology was given such power. Probably not.

The tea-lights have now burned themselves out and the power has been restored.

AAnd And And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/k/khalilgibr387063.html#6fOw9vq8RCFR7xVm.99

And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/k/khalilgibr387063.html#6fOw9vq8RCFR7xVm.99

And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/k/khalilgibr387063.html#6fOw9vq8RCFR7xVm.99

And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/k/khalilgibr387063.html#6fOw9vq8RCFR7xVm.99

And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/k/khalilgibr387063.html#6fOw9vq8RCFR7xVm.99

Six month catch-up with MJR

So what is going on in the life of MJR. To be honest, absolutely nothing. Tumble-weed. Actually, tumble-weed probably has more of a life than I do lately. Let's get back to were I last left off - the honeymoon phase. Well that part didn't last long at all as it was over by October, and depression soon reared its' sad ugly head. Nothing really happened during October-December, just drinking and working. I wasn't really in the mood to do anything. However, during my two week vacation, I visited home and it soon made me realise that life in Al Ain wasn't that bad.  I didn't seem to fit in at home, and the atmosphere was terrible. It was nice seeing my family though, even if I did spend most of the time fighting with my parents or sleeping. Since my return to the UAE, I haven't really thought that much about home. Work has kept me on my toes. 12 weeks without a break has finally taken its toll on me. Work consumes five days of my week, and the last two are used for playing the sleep catch-up game. Nothing productive ever happens on Fridays and Saturdays. Work, eat, sleep. Three words that sum up my life quite perfectly. Thankfully, there are only two weeks left and then its vacation time. A much needed vacation time.

Well so far I have climbed a mountain - albeit in a car. The view was amazing, seeing the whole of Al Ain was a spectacular vision. I also attended the first game in the new Al Ain stadium. I hate football but it was a good day out even if I was hungover. The school also allowed us to attend the Red Bull AirRace in Abu Dhabi. Again I hate planes...but the whole twisting and turning and the aerobatic show afterwards was immense.

It's hard to believe that 6months has gone by, and only 4 months till I can visit the UK again. I can't wait to get a decent social life. My personal life here is quite abysmal. Lent has made it quite hard to enjoy the past 10 days as well. No fast food, no chocolate, no alcohol, no pleasures. However, I did cheat - I accidentally ate chocolate courtesy to Sheenal's cake-in-a-cup. It was only due to the fact that I was amazed that a cake could be made in a cup in just 90 seconds. It tasted so delicious. Luckily, the no alcohol rule is still standing. I have been placed in temptations way quite a lot.

Speaking of temptations, the reason why I have used MJR in my post is because of a new nickname that I have acquired during my time here. I normally hate nicknames but this one I kind of like. Obviously it's my initials, but it's simple. Maybe I only liked it because of the person who gave me it. When he says MJR, it's like velvet rolling of his tongue. He is a bass player in the local bar I attend - yeah I seem to attract the bassists - but he's rather sweet when he wants to be. His cute ass has also gotten me in to trouble a few times too. Crazy bitches following him around have expressed their distaste in me knowing him; hey that's another story that could take forever to type up. Anyways enough about him and more about my vacation.

So two weeks and two days off will finally give me a chance to see Dubai. That's right. I have lived here for 6 months and all I have seen is Dubai airport and Abu Dhabi beach. I will be venturing out by myself as the others will be on their holidays in other countries. I don't mind going alone, but some company would be nice. So I've planned for Dubai, Abu Dhabi and maybe Oman if I can fit it in to my budget. Who knows.

Well this is all I can be bothered to type at the moment. I'm sure those that read this have me on social network sites can catch-up with me on there.

Choking on a dream.

“I woke myself in the darkness, and I knew only that a dream had scared me so badly that I had to wake up or die, and yet, try as I might, I could not remember what I had dreamed. The dream was haunting me: standing behind me, present and yet invisible, like the back of my head, simultaneously there and not there.” 
                                    Neil Gaman - Ocean at the End of the Lane


Dreams. Some you tend to forget. Sometimes you get the occasional one that will stay with you for a lifetime; often enough that same dream can reoccur. Maybe one of those dreams is a dramatic chase or a tragic love story. Maybe you can see everyone crystal clear or they could all be a blur.  Whatever the dream, whoever is involved - it remains a memory that you can never be free of.

In a twisted sense of humour, my dreams have been exceedingly weird.  Ever since I could remember, I have always had this "choking" dream.

I would wake up from a dream in my bed to find someone who I had never come across consciously sitting on my chest and wrapping their hands around my throat. The person, sometimes invisible, would crush my chest with it's weight, a force so powerful I would be unable to breathe. I would fight as much as I could with this person or thing but I felt so weak. 

Yet as strange as it seemed, I knew it was a dream. It felt so real in the sense that no matter how hard I would shake my body or try to free myself from this pressure,I could never wake up. I could toss and turn will all my strength but nothing would work. It was like my body had to wake up on it's own.  When I would finally wake up, the dream was never over. Tears would be streaming down my face and my body would be sweaty and tangled amongst the bedsheets.My chest would feel constricted and it would be hard to breathe. My heart would race so fast that it would almost explode.


This dream has happened several times during my 22 years, but recently it has occurred at least 3 times in the past six months.  The dream is always the same; lying in bed on my back with the window open. However the bed would coincidently match the one I fell asleep in on that particular night.

I'm not sure what is exactly going on but I never wish to experience this again.