| User Name: | Acid Ink |
| Name/Nick: | Lily Harrison |
| Last Visited On: | Sep. 08th, 2005, 21:45:04, PDT |
| Registered On: | August 08, 2005 |
| Email: | |
| Homepage: | n/a |
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| Yahoo Handle: | n/a |
| AIM Handle: | n/a |
| Biography: | My name, is Acid Ink. My stories, are lies. Beautiful lies built from my own dilemmas and deceits. Maybe my stories aren’t as good as other peoples. I’ll probably never be happy with my work. Still, when I write, my soul is connected with every word that is left on the page, spelling mistakes and all. They’re mine. My children, my lies, my stories.
I am called Acid Ink, because every word I write leaves a poisonous stain in me, it haunts me, yet inspires me. Most of my stories are written out my hand with a fountain pen in thick hardcover notebooks, then transferred painstakingly by hand onto my computer. It’s a pointless, tedious process, but I love the secrecy of hiding a solid book of my own from other people.
Even though I love to write, and to deceive, I have suffered from lack of enthusiasm. I fear I am not cut out to write, as if I cannot seem to take the pressure of writer’s block and harshly constructive criticism. I have not truly received any negative feedback, but I believe that it’s the fear of rejection that holds me back from fully writing what I feel deep down in my being.
I like to write about romance. Love is so complex and almost bittersweet, that it truly fills me when I write something emotionally severe. I love reading other people’s stories, and having my own heart trip when the characters misunderstand or make critical mistakes involving emotions. I truly envy those who can write emotionally gripping stories. For me, it’s hard to write stories that have semi-leveled relationships. Of course, there’s more to love than coupling, and my characters do portray fairly rational relationships, but I feel as if I could delve deeper into what they are feeling. It’s hard creating these romantic illusions, when I myself, have never truly experience love on that level. I of course, am quite familiar with unrequited love, but yet even that gets old in it self. Romantic rivals are sometimes too trivial and not multi-dimensional, and it’s difficult to write someone who is just psychologically terrifying with no real motive other than self-satisfaction.
I do enjoy writing angst in stories, the kind of words that make your eyes burn with feeling. People love reading angst because they can relate to it. Everyone at some point has felt boiling emotions and inner turmoil. When people can relate to what I’m writing, then everyone takes on their own deeper meanings to the stories. To me, when I can put a character in a position that makes my heart want to stumble or cry out, I feel like I have accomplished expressing my own emotions through my character.
My stories are lies though. Many are too sad, unbelievably gloomy and negative. To feel sorrow is one thing, to wallow in to is another thing. Sometimes, I base my stories off of my sarcasm and pessimism. It’s difficult writing something believable about your self. It’s so hard not to turn yourself into what you want to be, when you really must express who you are in honesty.
My problem is, I like giving characters my own qualities. The problem, I have too many layers. I’m never really sure who I am sometimes, and it’s difficult trying to personify yourself into a character. That’s why my stories are lies.
But I love my lies. My lies keep me from being too lonely, they keep me from sharing my secrets, and they keep me from accepting my inexperience. My lies, my stories, protect me from myself, and it’s the only way you’ll ever get to know me.
I’ve been poisoned by my stories. I’ve been poisoned by Acid Ink. |
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