In A World Of Pure Imagination….

Come with me
And you’ll be
In a world of
Pure imagination
Take a look
And you’ll see
Into your imagination
Pure Imagination, Gene Wilder.
Dearest Reader of Scarlett’s World,
I would like to welcome your once comfortable arse to another blog post.

See how I mentioned that your arse was once comfortable in the previous sentence?  Now while Dolly sings about being a 9 to 5 work class woman, I am going to suggest you get a pillow for your butt as well as a blanket as it may be cold and get comfortable.

However, I am thinking you may require something to eat and drink so with that, put me down and I will wait for you to grab something to eat.  Besides, it isn’t like I have any place to go apart from wherever you put me down and with that, welcome back.  I hope you have gotten comfortable and now it is time to roll on with the show.

In my case, its a blog post.

Firstly, I would like to start off by thanking Lois for stepping into the writer seat and taking over for me.  Unlike most people who wish to keep control over their empire and their little minions, I am more than willing to give over the control of the empire for a few hours. And I am talking about a legal way rather than hacking into someone’s account and take control like that, but than, you never know.

In my case, it meant that I handed my Mother a computer, made her something to eat and drink, place a cigarette ashtray near her and went to sit or rather lie down on the couch.  When I awoke from my quick four hour nap, it was in that moment of snoozing and dreaming, I allowed my body to come of its high.  There is so much the body can handle living on adrenaline before it crashes and you are left sitting in a corner, rocking back and forth.

And I so just happened to come across what happened after spending 5 months living on pure adrenaline and that was sleeping for a straight 72 hours with little to no disturbances.  Only downside was that I decided to do it in the heatwave Queensland was experiencing at the time.

So my parent’s bedroom, the air con, no blankets and the lightest of lightest clothing became my best friends for the duration.  Least to say it, my parent’s soon excepted that this was going to be the norm for a few days and carried on with their life while myself and The Twins took control of their bedroom.  And during the time of my sleep fest, I dreamt that the room holding my parent’s belongings changed into the mystical world of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.

The bed that I was laid upon was soon a hill of grass, but not just any type of grass.  The shards of grass were made from mixture of spun toffee, coloured with green paste and when eating it, it tasted like toffee apple bars.  My head that was once resting upon pillows now laid upon spun marshmallow puffs that were soft to the touch and tasted when biting into one, like mallow goodness and ice cream.

I of course had the chocolate river flowing through the room, just like in Willy’s chocolate factory, but least to say no one was sucked up the plumbing.  Nor taken to the boiler room to be turned into fudge.  To finish it all off and my inner child was clapping her hands, the oompa loompa’s did their dance and I had Gene Wilder perform ‘Pure Imagination’ for me.

Now like most times when I am holidays or escaping from life, you can find me at The Little White House.  I haven’t left as yet because I am still in the midst of finalising things before the show down of Uni begins.  And normally this when you would cue to sad music to go with the Grammy Award winning good bye between Lois and I as we part.

As Alanis Morissette sings about having a hand in her pocket, I will disclose why I let Lois update Stairway To Nurse’s Heaven.  And therefore in that moment of time stopping, step up and become the chief writer and editor of dreams, hope, wishes and answering questions that are pending.

One of the reasons why I have given Lois the freedom of being in control is because she needed to be in control of her writing.  Unlike many of you who aren’t in the receiving line of being honored with a novel sized email, Lois is a bit of a dabbler when it comes to writing.

I have been telling her for the past few months or rather years in some cases when it comes to her novel, that she need’s to take a few months out for herself.  Just so than she can simply sit down, let the brain waves of positive creation be unleashed and the story of Meg and Jake start coming forth.  And why not let her start off with by writing a few blog posts as a guest, editor in chief and creative director?

Guaranteed my empire isn’t worth hundreds, millions of dollars however to me, my empire of writing is worth so much more than that.  To me, the empire of Stairway To Nurse’s Heaven shows not only to me but also to everyone else the amount of blood, sweat, laughter and in more cases, tears having been shed.

All due to being stubborn as hell and waiting to push through until the last ounce of strength leaves my body and therefore am longer able to hold a decent conversation nor blog post.  Which is why I am thankful for Lois throwing everything to the wind, believing that someone out there would want to read her writing and was left with the words of ‘Write Carrie.  Don’t leave the readers hanging on the line, gasping for breath!” lingering.

And that my valuable reader is how The Lois Liberation League was created for you, to read, ponder and nurture. As a result, welcomed you not only to another blog post but also into the welcoming arms of what or rather, who The O’Chunkys’ are.

Like you, I tend to reread over the things that I post and even more when Lois posts.  I believe these moments allow me gain more insight and knowledge about my mother, Lois as a person and who she really is.  With that, our relationship not only as mother and daughter but also as two women grow n another dimension.

Ending in our bond having gotten stronger and so has the ability in being able to communicate to one another.  In this case, I was able to read how Lois really felt when I dropped the bomb shell on New Year’s Day that I had seven days to remove my life existence out of my apartment.

The whole ‘it’s a New Year and a happier you!’ was quickly blown out of the window and was soon replaced with, ‘what the fuck? That fucking bitch!’.  Least to say in the moment of ‘new year and new me’ was soon forgotten for a few days and occasionally rears its ugly head when things aren’t picture perfect.  But as of now, my ex house mates have been wiped from my life and now I can simply enjoy the silence which has become somewhat perfect.  And as a result, I never want it to end or be brought to an ending as I have finally gotten everything I had wanted while I lived with those crazy nutcases.

Finally, my second point before I begin is, I apologise for not having posted .
I know when I posted back in December that I would like to get out and about, but I didn’t actually think it would happen this fast.  In fact, I was in some sort of delusional bubble of thinking it would take at least a couple of months for it to kick in.  But then, I suspect destiny and Karma had a different opinion about that and thought that I needed a kick to the arse to get me out there.   And they were tired of me lingering around the house, mopping.  So now I am essentially living life until Uni starts and then my boredom of reading becomes interesting as I babysit some stranger’s computer.
 
Okay Scarlett, so what does this have to do with you not updating and just give us your reason!
Dearest Reader, I have the answer for you and the excuse for me not uploading on a fortnightly basis of cringe worthy entertainment is because I went missing.  What?
Yes, I went missing.  Well technically I went missing from the internet scene for a couple of weeks but it all boiled down to the fact that I was travelling a lot.  So much that at one stage, I actually believed that I was a flight attendant stuck in the back seat of a car, zipping down the free way.
Or last Saturday, I happened to list myself down as Bob The Builder as I spent it fixing my old apartment up since my old house mate didn’t fix the shit when she left.  However, I did receive a nice little email in my pocket saying that Dad and I had come down to fix the shit that needed to be done.  May have felt in that moment as I spent my Monday morning in the sun room, feeling just a tad little smug.
And like most people who travel constantly, unless they find to time to sit down and actually blog; I have been finding it difficult to find this time.  Since I’ve been racking up the miles between The Little White House and Brisbane for various of reasons, I have been living a rather busy life.
So when I am not finalising plans for my upcoming birthday party, uni plans and enrolling in classes; then I am out and about in the city.  Since having left my old apartment therefore shaking off the unwanted ball and chain that had wrapped herself around my ankle, I now posses the freedom of being able to walk out of the house without being bombarded with questions.
Resulting in me no longer having to fight off these questions and dealing with the sulking attitude because I wouldn’t answer the questions of: ‘Who are you seeing? Why are you leaving? How are you getting there? What are you going to do? Where are you going?’.  And now since I have gained this exciting new freedom that I haven’t had for the past six or so months, I am fucking love it.  I am honestly calling this the best high that I possibly could have and I never want to let it go.  In fact I do not have to fear about having my conversations being listened to via a glass against the wall or my bedroom door flung open when I happen to laugh down the phone.
Nope, nothing but peace and quiet.
And privacy.
Let me just stick my hands up in the air, wave my head from side to side and say, “Amen! Hallelujah Father! Amen!”.  So apart from praising God for his mystical and powerful wellbeing that he has placed upon my shoulders after last year, my final words are: ‘Oh Privacy. How thy has missed thee’.
With that, dearest and most loved reader; Scarlett is back!
Well some parts of me are back as I have finally gotten my mojo back after posting on Instragram that I had misplaced it somewhere.  And as a result, it has taken me three days to write this with mass amounts of editing, deleting and rewriting certain places.
In some circumstances, I wasn’t happy with what I had typed as it basically read along the lines of “Fuck you!”, I decided to start from the beginning.   For those who return on a regular basis, we all know that I am a writer who tends to favour music when writing blog posts as I found it comforting for both the steady tempo of keys being strummed and my brain gears being lubricated.
In fact at the moment I am tossing between listening to Gene Wilder singing about imagination and dreaming of Charlie and The Chocolate Factory, Hilltop Hood’s Cosby Sweater and Meghan Trainer’s Close Your Eyes.  Because I see it, that everyone needs a little reminder about their childhood, teenager and adult years and on that note, how would you describe your childhood, teenage and adult years in songs?
I have to admit that I am curious as you guys know me well enough with what I write but when it comes to you, I only know a smidge.  And the only things that I know is you happen to read my blog or blogs, occasionally leave a message behind and I know that some of you live in America, Alaska, Europe and Australia.  Oh and three of my readers are: Lois, The Fairy Godmother and Peter.
I wish everyone a happy Friday and a safe Saturday.  And remember if you are going to crack open that bottle of beer, don’t drink and drive.  It only makes you look and feel like a dick when the police pull you over.  And besides, safe driving is awesome and makes your even more cooler!
Until next time,
 Cheers.

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