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I like to write, most of the time just for my own enjoyment, bur write nonetheless.
I mostly write things about my original characters, and when I do it I always end up giving the same voice to everyone, which is obviously a fail.
I think it is because I haven't detailed the characters as well as I should; What they want, how they think, how they feel...I haven't really worked that with most of them.
Nacht would be one of the few exceptions. I really like the girl and I've managed to give her some personality traits different from any other characters...She is, somehow, more real than others.
That doesn't mean I write her a lot, because, truth to be told...I don't. Most of the time I write about her from other people view, not from her own.
So today, because I was bored I decided that Nacht should talk a little, just to let the girl stretch a little and let me know what she thinks, what she feels and what she wants to do. (Of course, it also helps me to practice my english a little)
So, here...Have Nacht talking about...well, whatever she wants.
Most of the time I just don’t understand what’s going on with the world.
Not that I’m ignorant of the world’s needs and situations. I’m not, I need to be well informed to do my work to the best of my abilities...It’s just I don’t understand people.
I can’t seem to understand most of things when it comes to people. They are weird; Too damn sensitive and crazy, always chasing around being confused and petty, trying to live their lives without thinking that they can die.
I guess that’s it...Long ago I learned that I can die. And there’s a difference between knowing and KNOWING, do you get my point?
I mean, people know that things and people die, and they also know that some day they will do it, but they rarely realize how easy death can come, sometimes in the stupidest ways imaginable...Like tripping on the stairs or something.
Ha! Life isn’t as durable as most people want to believe...It is actually quite...uh, evanescent. And that is, without a doubt, what makes it so fucking valuable.
But they just don’t seem to understand it! They don’t know death as well as I do, they can’t really appreciate how important and beautiful live is if they haven’t seen it, touched it, even embrace it…Death that is, you need to embrace death in order to appreciate life.
“Oh, My grandmother died, that must count for something” Sure thing, I guess it does...but it’s just not the same, okay? You need to be there, you need to see and to learn to appreciate the moment when they actually die...The empty stare of the death some may call it.
I just call it dying, or “Estirar la pata” when I’m in the mood.
People die, you get it? And you really need to understand death to understand live.
Not to enjoy it, everyone can enjoy life without even trying (Well, not anyone, some people won’t allow themselves to enjoy life even if you pay them) but only a few people can actually reach that level when they know, without a single doubt, that life is gorgeous and they need to appreciate it before they die.
…I think you are wondering how I manage to kill people when I think so highly about life, uh?
Well, I think I appreciate death just a little bit more.
No, that’s not it...I UNDERSTAND death, it’s what I know...It’s pretty much the one thing that comes naturally to me.
I don’t need to kill. I don’t hear voices that tell me to murder someone...That’s just nuts.
It’s more than that.
For me killing is a talent, my vocation if you want. Some people paint, others can sing and I kill. I’m good at it and I enjoy doing it.
After all, we are supposed to do what we are good at, and enjoy it...aren’t we?
Mommy used to tell me that every night, just before kissing me goodnight...She would say, all smiles and vanilla perfume.
“Linda, tienes que hacer lo que a ti te guste...No dejes que el mundo te diga lo que tú tienes que hacer, sigue tu corazón”
Of course, back then I had no interest in killing. I actually wanted to be a famous chef…and a lumberjack.
Damn...looking back it’s actually hard to believe. Being young and innocent like that, it seems as it has never happened. Sometimes I believe I was born a freak made for killing, out of my mother’s womb with a gun and a knife between my gums.
It’s easier, you know? Thinking that I never had a past...That I never had someone to hold me tight, to kiss me, to tell me they love me…
Fuck, I’m not crying okay? The light is hurting my eyes.
The fuck were we talking about?
Oh yeah, killing...Yeah, that’s what I do. I know how to do it, and I’m good at it.
Why shouldn’t I do it?
I mean I know it’s bad, and illegal...but still. It’s the one thing I know how to do other than cooking, and nobody tells me not too cook, right?
No, forget it. That emotional outbreak back there has ruined my mood. I don’t know what to share anymore…
So...do you have any questions?
I mostly write things about my original characters, and when I do it I always end up giving the same voice to everyone, which is obviously a fail.
I think it is because I haven't detailed the characters as well as I should; What they want, how they think, how they feel...I haven't really worked that with most of them.
Nacht would be one of the few exceptions. I really like the girl and I've managed to give her some personality traits different from any other characters...She is, somehow, more real than others.
That doesn't mean I write her a lot, because, truth to be told...I don't. Most of the time I write about her from other people view, not from her own.
So today, because I was bored I decided that Nacht should talk a little, just to let the girl stretch a little and let me know what she thinks, what she feels and what she wants to do. (Of course, it also helps me to practice my english a little)
So, here...Have Nacht talking about...well, whatever she wants.
Most of the time I just don’t understand what’s going on with the world.
Not that I’m ignorant of the world’s needs and situations. I’m not, I need to be well informed to do my work to the best of my abilities...It’s just I don’t understand people.
I can’t seem to understand most of things when it comes to people. They are weird; Too damn sensitive and crazy, always chasing around being confused and petty, trying to live their lives without thinking that they can die.
I guess that’s it...Long ago I learned that I can die. And there’s a difference between knowing and KNOWING, do you get my point?
I mean, people know that things and people die, and they also know that some day they will do it, but they rarely realize how easy death can come, sometimes in the stupidest ways imaginable...Like tripping on the stairs or something.
Ha! Life isn’t as durable as most people want to believe...It is actually quite...uh, evanescent. And that is, without a doubt, what makes it so fucking valuable.
But they just don’t seem to understand it! They don’t know death as well as I do, they can’t really appreciate how important and beautiful live is if they haven’t seen it, touched it, even embrace it…Death that is, you need to embrace death in order to appreciate life.
“Oh, My grandmother died, that must count for something” Sure thing, I guess it does...but it’s just not the same, okay? You need to be there, you need to see and to learn to appreciate the moment when they actually die...The empty stare of the death some may call it.
I just call it dying, or “Estirar la pata” when I’m in the mood.
People die, you get it? And you really need to understand death to understand live.
Not to enjoy it, everyone can enjoy life without even trying (Well, not anyone, some people won’t allow themselves to enjoy life even if you pay them) but only a few people can actually reach that level when they know, without a single doubt, that life is gorgeous and they need to appreciate it before they die.
…I think you are wondering how I manage to kill people when I think so highly about life, uh?
Well, I think I appreciate death just a little bit more.
No, that’s not it...I UNDERSTAND death, it’s what I know...It’s pretty much the one thing that comes naturally to me.
I don’t need to kill. I don’t hear voices that tell me to murder someone...That’s just nuts.
It’s more than that.
For me killing is a talent, my vocation if you want. Some people paint, others can sing and I kill. I’m good at it and I enjoy doing it.
After all, we are supposed to do what we are good at, and enjoy it...aren’t we?
Mommy used to tell me that every night, just before kissing me goodnight...She would say, all smiles and vanilla perfume.
“Linda, tienes que hacer lo que a ti te guste...No dejes que el mundo te diga lo que tú tienes que hacer, sigue tu corazón”
Of course, back then I had no interest in killing. I actually wanted to be a famous chef…and a lumberjack.
Damn...looking back it’s actually hard to believe. Being young and innocent like that, it seems as it has never happened. Sometimes I believe I was born a freak made for killing, out of my mother’s womb with a gun and a knife between my gums.
It’s easier, you know? Thinking that I never had a past...That I never had someone to hold me tight, to kiss me, to tell me they love me…
Fuck, I’m not crying okay? The light is hurting my eyes.
The fuck were we talking about?
Oh yeah, killing...Yeah, that’s what I do. I know how to do it, and I’m good at it.
Why shouldn’t I do it?
I mean I know it’s bad, and illegal...but still. It’s the one thing I know how to do other than cooking, and nobody tells me not too cook, right?
No, forget it. That emotional outbreak back there has ruined my mood. I don’t know what to share anymore…
So...do you have any questions?
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