Your life is like a blank cd
and when you're born
it's pushed into the burner
you can write your own movie
create your own theme song
and decide on the course the story will take
each decision you make is like those books
pick page 13 you'll head in a certain direction
but page 27 will be a whole other adventure
it's your choice on where you will go in life
ignore the constraints, restraints and regulations
write your life the way you want to
burn your story into someone else's mind
and on the day you die: hit rewind
and play it all back
because on your tombstone there are two dates
but all that matters is the dash in between

My pen name is Straightlyconfused.

I don't really have any reason for choosing that name.

I've been reading FanFiction now for 3 years and finally decided to try my own hand at writing.

I don't believe that life should be lived 'by-the-book'.

But I don't believe in 'living-on-the-edge' either. I think thats a good way to fall off the face of the planet.

I'm very much into the sentimental sayings and stuff.

I use music to help inspire me when I write. Its my thing. Not everyone has to like it.

I'm ok with criticism as long as its constructive. If its not then don't bother because I don't believe in tearing people down unless you're going to give them advice in how to build themselves back up.

I write when I'm inspired. I won't write to keep you happy.

I won't be an 'average' writer either. I'll write good stuff or nothing at all.

If you like my writing then add me, review me, talk to me - anything. I don't mind.

Straight xx

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself;
if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul;
if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine,
and still stand on the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”

It doesn't interest me to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up, after the night of
grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone,
and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or
how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the
center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep in
the empty moments.

If'

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are loosing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

but make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don't deal in lies

Or being hated, don't give way to hating,

and yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;

If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

and treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with worn out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And loose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

and so hold on when there is nothing in you

except the will to say to them: "Hold On!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings - nor loose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you but none to much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds worth of distance run -

Yours is the Earth and everything thats in it -

And - which is more- you'll be a man my son!

(Rudyard Kipling)

In Germany, they first came for the Communists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist;

And then they came for the Trade Unionists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Trade Unionist;

And then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew;

And then...they came for me...and by that time
there was no one left to speak up.

(Martin Niemoller)