The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Seventeen :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

I am a grade A bitch.

So today didn’t get to plan. Actually in fact I got really angry and blew up at someone. I know it wasn’t the best thing to do.

So here is the simmer of it…

My ex, He who shall not be named, after our break up wanted to be friends. Actually he insisted that we stay friends. In time that turned into friends with benefits. Before long, he started to slip into the kind of chatter and behaviour that was more reminiscent of being in a relationship. But even then he insisted on friends.

I have to say quite frankly, I still love him, even after all this time and after what happened. Yes, I know, it’s not the healthiest thing. But even after all of this I still love him and sometimes I hate that.

So with that debrief in mind. Today he was meant to be helping me. I have been moving slowly and today he was meant to be giving me a hand moving my stuff to the new address. Well he told me in advanced to be ready by 10am today (Saturday). So I was. 10am came and went, an hour came and went. My message got those annoying received ticks. Another hour and I had taken a cab to the new address with some of it. By 1pm I finally got a response.

It went something like this:

Him: Hey I am so fucked up

Me: Mmhmm

Him: My hay fever is so bad

Me: Mmhmm

Him: I know you are pissed

Me: Mmhmm

Him: I haven’t done anything I wanted to do today.

Me: Mmhmm

Him: I’m not even going into work today.

Me: Mmhmm

Him: I’m gonna hang up now ‘cos you’re pissed off.

Me: Mmhmm


Ok so maybe that was harsh but he was right. I was fuming. I seriously had enough at that point. He spent most of our relationship bailing. Even when I needed him most. Especially when I needed him most. Not always but most of the time. I don’t know why I was so hurt by it. Ok yes I do. I thought that maybe he was right, maybe he had changed like he said.

I was an idiot. I am an idiot. I still love him however much I want to be happy I still love him even when it makes me feel less than myself.

So of course on my way back to get more stuff, as soon as I step outside, it is pouring with rain. I am talking thunder, lightning and soaked to the skin kind of rain.

Well, of course I was really pissed off. Then a kid gets on the bus. The little shit is shouting pressing the bell being obnoxious. I am talking a five maybe six-year-old. What was the parent doing, fuck all!

I don’t care I am mad. When I get mad I swear. Tough.

So on the bus, I sent a message, yeah it was a bit harsh. I said that the worst part was that I was surprised this time because I thought this once he would follow through. I am not proud. He didn’t react well. But then I didn’t expect him to. I told him that he not once at any point was apologetic or even let me know sooner so that I could have sorted my plans sooner. To which I got a call to say that he was bleeding out of both nostrils and had a massive headache and he didn’t need that right now. I did something I didn’t expect myself to say, even though I was beyond angry and frustrated, I told him to get better soon.

So I had a bit of drawing, a doodle and calmed myself down quite a bit. Actually the doodling helped me a lot.

So when I calmed down I sent a message: I hate when we don’t get along. I really do. But I still want to sit down and sort things out rather than angry or annoyed or upset with one another. Today was the moving day, I needed to do things efficiently because I didn’t want to be almost here but still stuff that I want there. You know how it is when you want to settle down in a new environment. It’s horrible to have the in between itch. Getting hold of the car park key was hard enough. I was pissed off, I’m not going to lie, but it is not an excuse for me to act on it. I am working on changing that. I am changing that. I don’t want things to stay the way they are both of us being upset and angry I’d hope it be possible to talk it out.

I don’t know how I did it, being reasonable I mean. I am hot headed and normally I would have calmed myself down. But it took a good few hours and a lot of calming and soothing.

It was a manifestation from previous experience.

My name is Elliot Parker and I am a deliberate creator. I got messy about my thinking and had a manifestation of pure contrast. I had been messy and sloppy with my thinking and energy and allowed myself to fall into a trap of what was, harming my what is and it was not what I truly wanted.

I would rather be happy than be right. My anger was at wanting to believe the change and not vibrating and resonating with that belief.

Today I have learned through my manifestation that I have an unsteady vibration that I thought had slowed enough but perhaps not. It is the telling of the past that brings it back to life. So this is the death of the anger of today. Of the frustration. I am intentionally moving up through my emotional grid into better feeling thoughts and finding myself in a place of sweet relief and appreciation that when I wake tomorrow I will be starting my day on a newer, better, higher more powerful vibration where I will try to remain on the higher better feeling thoughts and energy.

My name is Elliot Parker and yes this really happened, yes I was mad, yes I still love him, and yes I would work things out if that ever was an option.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 14th January!


Author Update (November 2016)

Hey ya’ll

First of all, rememberence weekend was moving. Lest we forget has never seemed so relevant. There was so much that was won and lost and broken and built in all the conflicts and wars, their sacrafice is not forgotten.

So…I have been thinking a lot about The Diary of Elliot Parker and while writing it was cathartic, enormously so because it was a fun way to break the writers block. I am well aware that I have perhaps misused the process in the sense of it got me out of a life block too, it became similar to blood letting. Wanting to break free of my own thought patterns was tricky because of many issues, what is written may at times be exaggerated or misinterpreted but thats ok as long as it is understood that this was written for the purpose of entertainment, not all of the views expressed I agree with then or now. Whether or not that is understood is another thing.But I want to make it clear that I do love the characters. I love those that inspired the writing wholeheartedly. I am entirely grateful for the chance and the inspiration to write something that challenges me and makes me want to be better. I am entirely grateful for those in my life who have inspired and encouraged me, I am entirely grateful for this writing to put me in a better mood by bloodletting the things that stung or were difficult and to come to an appreciation for the experience for what it taught me. I want to lead a positive life, this kind of helped me find a path to that positive momentum. Like I said, I don’t always agree with what is in the diary or the drama of it, I understand it can upset people, but I don’t want them to think for one second that that means they are not cared for or loved or that is the truest opinion I hold of them.  I love those that inspired my writing, in whatever story or form. And I want to sort of apologize and more importantly I want to say thank you for being a part of my life and a true inspiration.

So obviously my Author Updates I try to do for the last Sunday of the month, so I didnt get to tell you that I managed to snag some cheap seats to Wicked. Which made a nice break from thinking about my ribs. I managed to snag the tickets to Halloween! The atmosphere was amazing. It was wonderful… it was… Wicked!!! The cast and crew and front of house did an amazing job. The performance was so wonderful, everyone enjoyed the atmosphere. It was such a wonderful evening. I loved it. For the first time in a long time watching a show like that, there was no jealousy, for a few years there would be a tint of the green eyed monster, a little jealousy that I wasn’t on stage. I guess now I can say I am at peace with not being on stage, it was an incredible rush and and it was wonderful, but physically I wouldn’t be able to manage it with these ribs, and I guess I have settled comfortably into my identity as a storyteller, a writer, a wordsmith. It was wonderful to just enjoy it and be part of it in a moment and being content and happy. I did find myself identifying, personality mainly with Elpheba, quite a lot of identifiable moments where I could safely say I felt the Elpheba moments. And I have to make a definite and clear point- Rachel Tucker is an amazing Elpheba, its not the firs time I have seen her in action, she is inspirational.

Ah the ribs, yeah they still suck, and the frustration is still there but I am trying to come to a kind of peace with it.

The fireworks have been beautiful. Always reminds me of someone. 🙂 There are really cool styles and displays. some of them look like glitter, I hope I am here next year at this time of year with nice hot cups of hot coco and snacks… might have to try my persuasive skills for bonfire night… maybe if I offer to cook… Yes I cook… very experimental at the old cookery though.

Music news?

My awesome and incredibly patient guitar teacher is helping me write my song, I have the lyrics, the melody is taking a bit of work and the guitar is where we are working, I wanted to try to do something new, and writing a song was something I have never done with melody etc and I had no idea where to start. He deserves a medal he has heard me singing, something I hadn’t done since before my ribs were injured, and its something that has gone from easy and less scary to something very scary and hard to do. I’ve been feeling incredibly frustrated and embarassed by it, and it hurts and its hard and its just another thing that is too hard to do right now.

The American election= Well it’s sincerly sad, and scary. The UK is going to be more unstable now especially after this result and brexit. I sincerely wish that Sanders had stood and won, the most capable and best chance. It’s going to be the source of much anxiety for very many people.

Have I missed anything else? Well, no. I’ve not been writing much, mid month I discovered something called NANOWRIMO which I might try to do next year, I was wondering whether to make it a feature for the website. I don’t know.

And now the very obvious plug for The Diary of Elliot Parker? Hmmn…. CHECK IT OUT! (please)

There that’s the plug done.

Time to plug the pre-order link…

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 14th January!

Have fun and enjoy the month ahead please 😀

And as always… I just want to remind you that there are books that are open, and available to you. So here is the link to my amazon author page, why not see if something takes your fancy. (Psst- got a secret for ya… The Diary of Elliot Parker will be arriving there soon 😉 hehe- not sure its much of a secret anymore

May luck and adventure be on your side!

ARA xxx

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Sixteen :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

This is a confession I need to make. That I can’t make in any other way.

There is something I haven’t told you yet. Clover is a mother. She has a toddler. Her baby daddy is a friend from high school. It is my doing that they reconnected and ended up in a relationship and then having a daughter.

Something I couldn’t confess to her, when she first started to flirt with him when we hung out, at that point in time, I really liked him, I really, really liked him. So when she got with him, well honestly I wasn’t exactly over the moon.

The thing is, since they got together my feelings for him, they died. I watched her messing him about a lot of the relationship. Following after the attentions of other men. It was infuriating the first couple of years. Well actually more than infuriating. It really used to annoy me. She had the guy that I had wanted, the relationship I had wanted. What did she do? Waste it away. Now I question if she ever really cared all that much. Well, things didn’t change much when they broke up. He stayed living with her in her mum’s house and they continued faking their relationship so he had somewhere to live.

Lots has changed since they started out years ago and now it doesn’t matter so much.

So what is it I am confessing?

Something that is too hard to bring up and tell her.

I might have accidentally gotten very drunk at her baby’s christening party. Clover’s baby daddy kissed me. The next day we talked and agreed that Clover could never know because of the tension going on around their baby, I could see the child responding to all the tension she was absorbing.

My name is Elliot Parker, this is not the end of the confession, but I wish it was.

Recently while hanging out at Clover’s I was watching her TV and I had spent most of the day keeping an eye on the baby when Clover and I had been shopping in town. I was exhausted and tired. So watching bad TV sat down sounded perfect. Her baby daddy, well he said something I found a little odd, “do you know how much I’ve wanted to spend some time alone with you?” I guess we were friends but it took me back a little. It took me back a lot when he kissed me, something, well it didn’t feel right at all.

It was awkward, I wasn’t comfortable, I didn’t want to kiss anyone, I just wanted to watch TV and relax a little bit.

The problem since then? I don’t know how to tell her, because it was never going anywhere, it never would.

I am in one of the damned if I do damned if I don’t situations because baby is in the middle and from what I can tell the tensions between them and the relationship of Clover and baby daddy can be volatile as it is. Putting this kind of tension to it, he just didn’t register on my radar as someone I am interested in.

I spent so long worrying about the effect on the baby that the relationship between Clover and myself wasn’t even an issue. To me there is nothing to tell. The advance is going no further.

Honestly my affections reside elsewhere. She knows where my affections are, who is on my radar. And her baby daddy is not.

My name is Elliot Parker and confessing to you hasn’t made me feel better. It hasn’t made me feel worse. I just know it is nothing. Nothing will, or can happen or progress. Yet again someone else is being put first. Maybe that is the best that I can do right now.

Perhaps my confession should really be this: I am tired of putting other people before myself. Family and friends are always being put before myself. A big part of me just wants to be selfish, it wants me to ignore all of the conditioning of an entire lifetime. I want to put myself first. Go after what I want and not care who gets in my way or has hurt feelings because I didn’t do what they wanted. That I didn’t yield to their demands. Is that really so bad?

I am a deliberate creator; it doesn’t mean I am cruel. But this? It just shows me that my energy is muddy. I have a bit of work to do. That is fine. It is hard to break the habits of a lifetime. I know that it can’t be impossible, so that is a reassurance.

I know that in time Clover will find out what happened, I just hope she understands that there is no future for something that can never be, especially when what I want, who I want is definitely not him. As she has always known. I just hope that she understands it was never about a lie or deception it was about the nothingness of it. The health and wellbeing of baby.

We all know the rounds of denial I go through about who I want, now that I am moving on. Now that I am moving past the past.

I know I keep going through denial and then trying to minimise the real impact of the feelings I have developed for Jonas. I keep trying to pretend they aren’t there. That I don’t smile when I see his messages or laugh, or hope for more of a chance to talk when we do. I keep trying to convince myself we are friends. When I am not trying to convince myself all I feel is friendship I am reminding myself that we both still have a professional relationship. I am his client.

I keep trying to remind myself that our similarities are just the personality types we both share. That’s not to say if he were to make a move, a suggestion, or a pass I would be angry or offended. I would probably be cool with that. Fine! Ok I would be cool with that.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 14th January!

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifteen :.

My name is Elliot Parker and I like to doodle.

I am sure everyone likes to doodle, but recently I have been doodling more frequently. That doodling has turned more into drawing, or trying to draw. I sent a photo of a few of my doodle drawings to Jonas during a chat when he asked what I was doing. Rather childishly I got a bit happy and excited when he said they were good. Boy can that man draw.

I like talking to Jonas, it is fun. I know I shouldn’t but he is that one friend who if it wasn’t for my heart still longing for someone who shall not be named; but if it wasn’t for that, I would be very curious about seeing what could happen.

How often do you meet someone who just inspires you to keep working at your dream? To focus on the creativity and the things that really make you happy and not sacrifice that joy and happiness for money.

Of course with Jonas, there are some very big perspective differences, very different opinions. It makes for interesting conversations. But we are united in one thing, a love for cake. Cake is great, I mean come on?

The thing is, we met in a rather odd way. I was his client. Then the odd message once in a while turned into at least once a week then once a day and now we’ve been talking every day for a couple of months at least. Unconventional conversations are great when both participants have an open mind. But the cake debates are great.

It always makes me happy when he sends me a picture of artwork he has done. It is like when I share a little bit of what I write with someone. “Here is a little piece of my soul and energy”. That is scary to do. So I appreciate it every time. I never have to lie though. It is always great work. That man has more skills than what meets the eye. I love it. Within 20 minutes or an hour perhaps, boom there is something beautiful and wonderfully drawn and it just seems to be like magic.

My name is Elliot Parker.

I think I have a crush, I shouldn’t but I do. I don’t even know how or why, but there is just this tiny little crush kindling for Jonas even though it seems like the most impossible choice.

Like I mentioned before my heart still longs for he who should not be named, so I don’t know how it is possible for me to have this teeny tiny crush on Jonas. Yes, he is pretty awesome. He is a good friend. We get along, mostly.

Sure I was a bit of an insensitive jerk recently. But I am sort of glad that I was, because I learned something important. I don’t want to make him upset. I wasn’t a jerk on purpose I just sort of didn’t think. I didn’t know the extent that something that seemed simple and inconsequential to me would have the outcome they did.

I think it is sorted now, I hope that it is better now that we talked about it. I don’t think I realised how sensitive he was. I forgot how tetchy us creative types are.

I don’t know why the friendship grew. I mean, sure there is an aspect of a working relationship but there is also the fun silly banter. I am glad that I chose him to do the work, after all, there are somethings that just work by nature, by the energy, the right energy is always important it will tell you more about a person than what they say sometimes. Ok not sometimes, all the time.

I hate how reading energy can make things confusing, I mean, my own energy attracts specific energies and sure that can be great finding so many kindred spirits. But it doesn’t help when you are reading a friend and you know them so well you can just tell what they are doing when their energy touches yours. It is how I know when they lie, it is how I know that they have me on their mind, it is how I knew without knowing what I knew now that he who should not be named wanted to reach out to me despite his own stubborn block of being in his way.

I didn’t think I could ever read someone’s energy like this, I can read an energy from thousands of miles away. But that is it isn’t it? Energy spreads and transcends. Knowing what it is you are reading from an energy can be hard, like it is with Jonas, I think without projecting my energy on the situation from a different perspective, there are moments in his energy when I know that there is an intense focus on the artwork, or on occasion when the conversation between us is being held the object of complete focus and attention. That seems to be the point when the deepest and most honest conversations happen, with very little banter. It kind of starts with a silly question and before long, there it is, the deep conversation that sort of surprises you in ways you didn’t think of. I like the deep conversations, the serious ones, I like that it doesn’t have to be good or bad it can be said objectively and detached if need be. I like that it is possible to have a conversation about something serious and not be fobbed off with “I have to go this is too serious” or “this is too uncomfortable can we change the topic?” There is no glazing over the conversations if the tone isn’t bright and happy. There is no skip or ignore. It just happens, it is honest and I really enjoy that honesty. I really enjoy being able to talk and connect with someone that inspires me so much.

I like being able to voice how I feel honestly with someone who appreciates the honesty and reciprocates. That doesn’t hit the skip to the good part button. I say that from experiencing talking to someone who frequently hit the skip button. He who shall not be named, he did that often. I don’t blame him. But it makes me appreciate Jonas’ openness all the more.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 14th January!

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fourteen :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

I have already confessed to too much, revealed too much. I have mentioned thoughts and feelings that my friends, they don’t even know about.

I have another confession to make. Though I am sure you already know. I hate to admit it, but I resent Clover, a lot sometimes. I know I get jealous that she gets what she wants, the guys she wants, the guys she doesn’t want. They all chase after her. But that isn’t all that I resent.

She has an obsession with boys. Attention from boys and the distinct lack of attention from one in particular and not Stan.

From what I can tell, the two barely talk now. They have gone from constantly messaging to a message drought. Which does annoy me if I am honest. She made him her mission and now she has dropped him like a hot potato, to prove she can do it again. With disregard for how anyone else feels. That is so frustrating. She could achieve so much more if she shifted her focus from boys onto something productive. And I am not just saying that because that is what happened to me. Because when I changed, when I learned about deliberate creation I didn’t know there was no back button, I didn’t know I could never go back to being how I was because I knew too much. No one warned me. But when I shifted my focus from my pain and darkness onto something the opposite, onto my happiness and light and my wellbeing the world evolved so much faster around me.

What I thought about changed, it was less 99% focused on pain 1% on the things that made me feel better; the balance shifted. The pain ebbed away the more the things that made me feel better became more important. And sure the cause of it circled back into my orbit but it has less of a devastating effect. This week proved that. Something that before I understood deliberate creation and became a lot happier and healthier, something that would have floored me and made me miserable didn’t hurt that bad. Instead this time it was faint disappointment that quickly faded into a shift into focus on something that I had less resistance over. My latent vibration that I hadn’t notice had less momentum. Sure it was still there and that is why my energy manifested that experience. It is just that now; I don’t hang out on that energy as much anymore.

If I can do a U-turn and feel this much better even if what comes into the experience, I am having isn’t what I wanted. I know how to clear up that energy.

That is the thing, seeing Clover repeating the same mistakes, and seeing her create all the negativity and drama and things that distract her from her purpose in life… it frustrates me.

When you see so much potential go to waste.

That’s now what I understand that I was over a year and a bit ago, I was potential going to waste because my attention was not on something that gave me unconditional love and joy.

Sure that is easy to say? No it is hard. It is so hard to admit she makes my energy cloudy. That clouding of energy wants to pull me back into unsteadiness because maybe life was easier in a way not knowing that I was a deliberate creator. It was easier to deal with things as they happen.

But now? Now I deal with things before they happen. I bring things into my experience with purpose, with reason. I can change my life in tiny increments or big giant leaps. Looking from where I was to where I am I can’t truly express just how much relief and appreciation I have for what I know now.

I tried to show Clover a bit of what deliberate creation is, or at least I tried to explain it a bit to her. Do you know what she did? She used it as a way to obsess and then justify her obsession by seeing signs because that is what she wanted to see signs and justification for what she wanted. Not once has she actually tried to go after and hunt down what she wanted. Which let’s face it, I would have done before I learned about deliberate creation and who and what I am.

Sure at first I didn’t understand the energy I was tuning into, that I was reading. That proved my point, the energy I found myself requesting wielded the results I needed to see, I needed to know I was on the right path. I know it sounds so strange, but I can’t think of a better way of explaining it.

I want to clean up my energy, I keep doing so well and cleaning it up but there’s this small muddy part of my vibration that keeps attracting Clover. Clover causes so much tension; so much frustration over nothing. She just talks and talks about these obsessions. About things that really don’t serve her or help her get what she really wants.

I just want a nice, peaceful, frustration free experience. But I suppose I should reassure you that the contrast is good, it helps clarify what it is you want. That is what I am working on more and more.

My name is Elliot Parker, I am an ever improving deliberate creator.

I know that things will get better and change in the friendship between Clover and myself.

My name is Elliot Parker and I know that everything that I want is always working out for me. Everything that I want to manifest is on its way to me because I understand what it is that I am doing. Because I understand what it is I am asking and requesting from my experience, because I know that it will come about. I know things will keep improving in all energies that I hold. I keep getting better and I can’t wait to have that secret dream again.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 14th January!

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Thirteen :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

And I am a stowaway.

The Captain he stole my idea. Rather than loose the ship, rather than their only other choice, to die fighting. I had him release the contents of our cargo hold. If that is what a dread ship seeks it is what they shall have. The deck was lined with the crates.

The life rafts prepared and straw men pulled to points of origin. The Captain’s cabin was emptied. And the crew began to filter onto the rafts weapons in tow heading further from the ship. The grand old target.

Rowing as fast as possible in a very wide circle as far from the ship as can be managed towards the nearest stretch of land we had last seen. That was the aim. Or at least, that was my aim.

The dread ship was almost upon the now abandoned ship, the rigged ship.

I watched through the Captain’s scope. The dread pulled in to the ship, side by side ready to board. The first spark lit. In a heartbeat there was a rumble, both ships filled in meadow green fire. The darkness lifted lighting the night in its green glow.

My plan had saved the Captain and the crew, and the true cargo, the real cargo they had been smuggling. Me.

The Captain knew exactly who I was, where I had been kept and where I had to go to.

Not every princess is a helpless girl.

My name is Elliot Parker, as a girl, I never wanted to be the rescued princess. But in this book and in this dream, I wasn’t the one being rescued, I did the rescuing.

“Captain, I believe a girl just saved all your asses. Now, let’s get to land. I have another plan.”

That’s when I am pulled with that lurching feeling from the pit of my stomach into the room. The sunlight pouring through a distant window creating beautiful shimmers as the dust swirled and fell through the streams of light.

Reluctantly I pulled myself back to my feet and looked at the jotter pad. “Elliot Parker, we should talk.” I looked at the writing before me. Adrian had left me that note. A knot twisted in my stomach, it was bad enough that I had to accept that my safe place was accessible to others. But to talk to someone who violated my happy place, that felt more than foolish. That felt ridiculous.  That felt completely horrific and yet, and yet the very thought of discovering who Adrian was, it exhilarated me.

“We are talking.” I respond.

I felt a pang of familiar curiosity. I was dying to know who this person was. But on the other hand, there was this well of anxiety. What was this person really after? What did they want from me to come into my world to disrupt my favourite dream?

Ok one of my favourite dreams. The other, a secret. I know where it comes from, and why I have it, and why I want it to come true so badly.

I know dreams are not reality. But this one, the books, this is the most tangible, closest to real that a dream can feel. When I wake up I remember everything, as though by magic the dream was real.

That is what I don’t understand. How does this dream have real life consequences? Unlike my favourite, secret dream, which is more like sailing through my vortex and seeing what is waiting for me. What it is I have requested, come to an understanding, a knowing of the manifestation before it arrives. What I really truly want. One of the things that I really truly want. The one I am least likely to admit in a conscious world, to another person who doesn’t know what really happened. When the world went dark for me.

After then, that is when this secret dream came about. It was a desire. Now it’s inevitability, is a knowing. It’s a secret from everyone, and sometimes even myself. Though I am sure, it could probably be guessed. But I know I am not the only one who dreams that dream. That’s the thing, that is the premise. The condition of that dream coming into my experience, the condition is that it must be shared by the other key figures in the dream, the key players. I honed it, when I grasped more of this deliberate creation and the understandings grew enough to wield it with some skill. That is when I began to inflict a condition on the dream. First condition was that I will remember the dream. Then I added the condition that the other most key player would remember the dream even if they didn’t remember any other dream that night. The third condition, the dream would only come about if I wasn’t the only one who wanted it to manifest into reality.

I am having that secret dream more frequently I noticed the connection growing.

My name is Elliot Parker and I know I am right about one thing, I know that I am not the only one who wants that secret dream to be more than a dream, By that understanding, I know that it is only a matter of time before that dream comes into reality. Before it has to come into reality. Before it has to manifest.

When that secret dream manifests I think my heart could possibly explode from the joy and happiness. That is what I am eager for. The reality of joy and happiness and everything wonderful that is in it. Everything that I have been longing for. More than the safe place, more than the room with the books and the amazing feeling of being a deliberate creator. More than being able to be the girl who changes the world, her world. That is the thing, even in this dream, the room with the books, I can think and remember and act on everything I know and see and experience here. That is why I love it so much that I hope I come here, and to that secret dream.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 14th January!

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Twelve :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

Welcome to my world. Well… Welcome to the world as I know it.

Strange things happen to me, or perhaps I am the strange thing that happens. I can’t always tell. What did I create when I did not choose as deliberately as I should? I made a bet with myself a short while ago. I made a bet that Clover would mess things up with Stan. I was pretty much right. She took a lot of offence to something incredibly minor. I mean seriously minor.

We all went out for a group outing so that Clover and Stan could officially meet. I will be honest, I had tonnes of fun, that was what I wanted so that is what I got. But hey I am a deliberate creator. So as I was saying; Clover and Stan. Oh my, was that awkward. They had wanted to see a movie so we all kind of got dragged along. They sat next to each other. But before we even got to that point things started to go downhill. Stan paid for Clover’s ticket and she had asked him not to, that she wanted to do it. Well apparently that really annoyed her. But when you look for a reason or an excuse you will find one, right?

Well, here is where it got a bit amusing, for me, kind of, without meaning to sound very mean. So there we are sat watching this movie, which wasn’t as bad as I had expected it to be. So there we are sat snacking on over-priced cinema stuff, there sits Clover with a ridiculous size box of popcorn and Stan sat with a slushy and huge bag of chocolate. I’m sat with the others acting as the bumper between them and Stan and Clover having their “first meeting”.  So the movie goes on the two seem to be doing ok. I mean Clover seems a bit chilly and Stan well nervous. That’s when the first gut thought hit, well more a bet that I was going to make with myself. “I bet that Clover is going to start treating Stan like crap, I bet that they are definitely going nowhere and will not work out.”

Harsh but true.

The movie gets going with higher stakes just arriving at the climax and there is a sudden movement in my periphery. Stan has taken hold of Clover’s popcorn and is throwing up, like, seriously throwing up as though he was a fountain.

The smell was noxious. I can’t stand the smell, but rather than offer complete sympathy, I am stifling a laugh. Mainly because what the hell am I supposed to do? I mean, this is awkward. Seriously, severely, awkward.

Well, he slid out the movie unaccompanied with his popcorn box. There Clover sat with a face somewhere between resisting laughing and complete fuming anger. I didn’t have a clue what to say, or do. The both of them wanted this meeting; they wanted to go out as a group. Clover was meant to organise it but left everything to the very last minute so I had to finalise everything. Am I really expected to go check if he’s ok?


It is Clover’s thing. I am not the one who is supposed to be going to check on her sort of date.

My name is Elliot Parker. It is time Clover stepped up and took responsibility.

There I said it. She needs to take responsibility. But there she sits.  Well, I am certain that there will be no lasting relationship like he hoped. Mind you, he is a jumper, he wants a relationship confirmed before the foundations are set and laid. It made sense to me when he told me he has lots of what could be called month long relationships that never go anywhere. Of course, he jumps in before he knows who or what he is jumping into or with. The folly of still being and acting childish.

Though I can’t talk. The last relationship I had, we talked, we met, in under a month of our first hello we confirmed out exclusive relationship. To be fair, in that relationship I ended up falling in love, completely. The potential, the flaws, he just, he somehow stole all my sensibility. But I would hope that falling that deep happens to everyone, but the hurt that comes if it ends badly, it is almost unbearable.

A year. It was 365 days of a roller-coaster; and then about 40 days of complete, plummeting free fall. Then of course you crash into the ground so hard you can almost feel the molten rock burning your every single cell. Prying yourself from that kind of hurt and pain, it takes time, it takes strength and determination to feel right, to feel good again, even though at that point it feels impossible. That’s when you could say I first began to learn about surviving and about deliberate creation. That is not what I understood it to be at the time, that is not what it felt like at first. It felt like a lot of little requests, small alterations in energy. The results of the requests. They sort of grew a bit and so did the confirmation that I received from my asking.

It took some time, some understanding, some guess work as to what I was doing. Other than fumbling in the dark for the light. Eventually my asking transformed a little each time so that rather than requesting what I wanted; it became, albeit slowly, less of a request and more a statement of knowing. Each day. Moment by moment, I reminded myself what that my statement of knowing that I had begun to start my day with was going to happen.

It is funny. My first statement of knowing came from my friend’s baby’s talking toy. How perfectly simple. That first phrase? “Today is going to be a great day.”

My name is Elliot Parker, and today is going to be a great day.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 14th January!

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Eleven :.

My name.

My name is Elliot Parker. And I was right.

My safe place is not as safe as I thought. My favourite dream. I had it again. But it is not the same anymore. When it was the same it was comfortable, you know, like your favourite onesie when it’s cold outside. Then it started changing, I was changing so it changed because of me. The more that I change the more control I gain. The more control I exert the more I change.

Recently I noticed that my dream, this dream world, that was under my influence, is not just under my influence. Someone else can reach this place. Someone else has the ability to change this place. Someone else out there can do what I do. Being who I am never felt so hard. Especially the more my influence reaches just through energy.

Last time I was here, there was a jotter book in the trinket box, I had replied to whoever responded to my message. The last message in my writing was “Who are you?”

Sweet huh? Simple. Tucked away nice and safe with that pretty trinket box. Now, here it is in my hand, I didn’t have to look or rummage it just seemed to appear. I didn’t have to remind myself to look for it. I just thought about the jotter, and there it is, sat in the palm of my hand. Pen hooked in the spirals.

I had my reply though. It was kind of cool in a way. In a this feels incredibly violating kind of way. In a this is wrong, impossible but incredible kind of way.

“Adrian Kraig” cool. That is an… interesting name? I don’t know. The name Adrian rings through to a part of me that makes my stomach squirm, and twist, and knot. Not in a bad way though. In more of a… memory.

Looking at the next line I find myself elated. At least he doesn’t respond using text talk. Adrian actually wrote out “What about you?” Rather than the widely and incredibly irritating “wbu” which you know, gives a certain degree of credibility to the guy. Which also brings about another one of those great moments where I get to say “I was right” because the likelihood is that Adrian is a boy’s name, mostly.

Again so many questions, is Adrian a guy for sure? How old is he? How did he get here? The list, endless.

But I had his question to answer. Do I answer his question with the truth? A variation? Did he approach this with the same dilemma?

I don’t know how long I stood here, trying to decide my response. My mind wandered, could Adrian be really attractive? Would he have green eyes, dark hair and a devil may care attitude? Probably not. Most likely a 50 something guy, going bald, incredibly wise but obnoxious.

“My name is Elliot Parker.”

Perfect. Again I nail the handwriting… I am getting neater.

Suddenly all the questions I wanted to ask fade. They mean nothing, not right now.

I could be or do or say anything I want right now. I could be anyone I want. So why do I want to be me?

I want to escape. Just for a little while. And like that the jotter is pinned by the trinket box and my room dissolves as I touch the book with the green cover and get pulled into a different great adventure.

I don’t have to climb the rigging. The bird’s nest is being over taken by real crew and the ship is swaying. The crew scurrying like a surge of ants across the deck. Me? I’m forgotten. Rather carefully I slide my way down from the bird’s nest and hit the deck running. I could run away and hide. Instead, I slip into the Captain’s cabin. It’s deserted. He’s too busy barking orders at his crew but I know something he doesn’t.

That ship on the horizon, is not a ship you can run from. It is big, powerful and you can guarantee it has seen us long before we saw it. It’s a dread ship. Somehow there’s a whole span of false memories sewn into my own. A mix of fact and fiction. A world I knew before I arrived on this boat, and the life of the stow away girl. This boat will never out run a dread ship. Out fighting it could be a lot harder than the Captain anticipates. But outsmarting it? Well that has better odds.

Seemingly right on the nose, the Captain bursts into his cabin with the sway of the boat. Surprise or anger on his face is nothing compared to the idea of the dread ship on our heel.

My plan tumbles from my mouth. An excuse, explanation or avoiding death by using my wits. Seems to come like a second nature. His bushy eyebrows raised into his hairline almost comically as the words tumbled. It wasn’t long until they furrowed in thought. He was considering it… he was actually thinking about my idea. The stow away girl’s idea. He spun on his heels silently and exited the cabin. Either I am about to become a shark’s snack or skewered on a sword. I wait for the crew to burst in and pull me from the room. But they don’t. Nothing moves in the room but me trying to hold balance as I aim for the door of the cabin and pull myself outside.

The crew were slowing down the scurrying to escape ceasing. And silence falling as they gather on the main deck trying to hold balance in front of the Captain.

The swaying continues below my feet, but that doesn’t cause the lurching in my stomach as I am pulled backwards from the ship.

I slam into the wooden floor below my feet. My body stills swaying with the motion of the ocean. The churning slowly settling in my stomach.

You see, my name is Elliot Parker and I get very sea sick.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 14th January!

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Ten :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

And I asked Stan a dangerous question. I asked him the title of the movie I was watching, “Ask Me Anything”. And he did.  I bet there are a thousand questions that could have been asked. What is your favourite food? What is the name of your ex? What is the name of the person you love? Who do you fancy? Who is your celebrity crush? Who is your hero? Are you a hero or a villain? Have you ever been in love? Do you believe in true love? Does Clover really still live with her ex?

Do you know what he asked? What he really wanted to know?

“What size bra do you wear?” OF ALL THE QUESTIONS HE COULD HAVE ASKED!?

Seriously? Seriously?  That is what he wanted to know? What is it with guys and boobs? Like really, you didn’t try to look sneakily when you were at work? It is a question you already know, I have big boobs, and what? I might not walk around in low cut tops and stuff but boobs can be pretty damn hard to hide. Trust me.

So is that really the biggest question guys have when they talk to a girl? Oh well. That is just… Maybe it is a good thing Clover has Stan on her hit list.

My name is Elliot Parker. No one really knows who I am.

Sure it sounds like something a rather melodramatic teenager might say. But I haven’t really mentioned the truth of what’s been going on with anyone. What do I say? “There is something weird going on and I don’t know what to do about it.” Like I could even begin to explain, I don’t always understand it. Being able to know things that I shouldn’t, being able to predict something. How the hell do I explain that I can just tell these things?

Sometimes I show it. I don’t always mean to. It’s no more than a glimpse really. That’s fine. A glimpse and only an eyebrow is raised. But doing it intentionally? I don’t want to, to summon the energy of that knowing.

How do I say, “there is something weird going on and I don’t know if I really understand it”?

I can’t. I just have to, figure it out myself.

Part of me, it has this strange wish to talk to him about it, he who should not be named. I know what he would probably tell me. “That’s not possible” I can almost hear it; he would think I had lost my mind. Sometimes, I really do worry that I have lost my mind, or that losing my mind could be a strong possibility. Perhaps I already have lost it? But somehow, no matter what I was feeling, I felt safe around him. Even if he made my heart race behind its bone cage. But that wouldn’t be the only thing that he would say. Some of it, he wouldn’t even have to say out loud. I could read it all in those beautiful brown eyes that rival a sunset. He has never been able to admit it, but he knows I read him like a book, better than a book. He hates that he can’t read me, that he doesn’t know how to read me. But not many people even know where to start. I love reading him like a book. It is one of those things that I don’t even have to see him, talk to him, text him for. Somehow I just know. I always know.

You can’t tell me that being able to do that isn’t strange? It feels like no matter what frequency I am tuned into; I can still hear him.

I am a deliberate creator, and somehow I manifested him into my life. That’s when I didn’t understand this at all, I mean I sort of have a grasp of the basics now, and I am better and more deliberate. But that didn’t stop me from losing him. But then again, I know that if I can be really clear and intentional and don’t mix up my energy too much, the manifestation that he is can walk right back into my life and have something stronger and healthier. I am a deliberate creator. I know that this is possible.

I just know that I have to be clear and certain of my own energy and momentum. But I am getting there.

I used to wander, how can I dream about someone I have never met? Now I wander, how did I meet that someone that was in all the best dreams?

But there is the other half of the coin, my nightmares aren’t events from the future. My nightmares grow from the weeds of my past. And while I still have that nightmare of losing he who should not be named. I know that those nightmares cause the focus of my own energy to fog and mix.

But, what is lost can be found.

My name is Elliot Parker; I believe that I can get more control of my own energy.

This is my new theory: if I can raise and accelerate other people’s energy quickly, I can replicate that for my own energy. I can raise and accelerate my own energy.

If a car is going 5mph and crashes into a tree, the damage, is not so bad. If a car is going 100mph and crashes into a tree… well that makes perfect sense doesn’t it. That’s what happened before. My energy was so strong and at such a high speed that the last time I crashed, the pain was unbearable. My energy plummeted to below nothing. Once I came out of the crater of rock bottom that is where the fun began. Well no, it wasn’t fun. It was painful and hard. Until, I learned that it could be easier. It got easier. They say it gets easier, it’s not a total lie. I promise.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 14th January!

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Nine :.

My name is Elliot Parker

I am excited. I had that dream again. But that is not all I am excited about.

I think I might have mentioned what happens at the start of the dream. The rippling floors, the breaking away of the wood. The way it melts and crumbles. How it fades and falls from existence and replaces itself with bookshelves. The stained woods of antiques. The one that I am drawn to, always first. It has this carved wood. The old filigree claws. The green stained wood sanded and unvarnished. The walnut trinket box, so beautifully carved resting beside the first book I always touch. The box was different. The top part of the box, the top shelf of the box, sat uneven. The thimble tilted to the side, the tiny clothes piled to a corner. The threadbare velvet showing its faded pink. Pulling that top shelf away was something new. Something I hadn’t tried before. Something I shouldn’t have been able to change but I did. The layer below had something I recognised.

The jotter pad and pen. The cap was looser than I had it on. I flipped to the first page of the notebook. My own writing on the first line. “I am a deliberate creator.” I have to admit; I was impressed by my own neatness for a moment. But it was something two lines below my own writing that had my attention. Clearly written, with as much intention as I had, had to use to change the dream the first time. “SO AM I”

I had a response.

The understanding that I had of dreams had been torn apart by this place.

Here it was again. Something new. Not only did I have a response, this place was open, other people could come here. This isn’t just my place. That was one of those feelings that just felt a bit violating. Like this was my safe place, my safe place.

Another something new.

I changed the opening sequence.

My name is Elliot Parker and I changed something that should be impossible.

Not for the first time.

I changed the bulk of the dream. I did it. I broke it. I broke the big sequence that pulls me into the next world. I suppose a book is someone else’s world anyway. But this, this is, indescribable. I opened the other layer of the trinket box.

Now I know that someone else can come here, I am not the only one. I am not the only deliberate creator. If someone else can come here, can I find them in the real world? For a start, how do I find them?

That is, it. If there is someone else, surely they have a name. A man must have a name. If he is a man… but with that handwriting, my guess is a man. I could be wrong, but it just sort-of has an energy to it that just feels like it is almost definitely a man… I mean, it could be a man. I am sure it probably, most likely is a man.

“Who are you?” That’s it? That’s the only thing I am letting myself ask. The only thing I am daring to ask right now. There are many questions that I want to ask, believe me, questions that I should ask. But something is pulling me back from asking too much at once, from pushing for more information. One step at a time. I already changed too much. I mean I don’t even know just how much is safe to change. I don’t know. Just how much I can change in one go. What is possible? Well apparently, anything.

But this, this is till my dream, it is still my choice. This is still my safe place, my one place where I can ask the impossible to be possible. The one place I can find out what happens to the stowaway girl that climbs the rigging and reaches the birds nest. And that is where I get pulled into another world. That is what I want right now. I want to know what happens next to the stow away girl on the ship.

So what else do I do? I put the trinket box back together and put the notebook back on the top layer with the pen and close the lid. They will probably come back, whoever it is, and open the box and read my message. I hope they answer the question. It would be nice to have the name of the person invading my safe haven.

And there it is. The paperback book of my dreams. Sure of course that sounds absolutely ridiculous, I know? But that’s the thing, this is my dream. The paper, it has that old book feel, stiffened edges, yellowing paper. The cover that pretty faded green of the trees melting into the sea. That faded black ink.

My name is Elliot Parker and I am the stow away girl.

Pulled into this world, this time, it was different. The bird’s nest. The rough wood under my fingers, the knotted rope. It was clearer. The cold whip of the wind. The boat hitting each wave, each chopping slap on the hull. In all but one direction, the sea sweeping the world from existence. But that one corner of the world not just occupied by sea. That was the first time I have seen anything like it. A ship in the distance. It wasn’t right. The way it seemed to absorb the light from the rising sun. it made it look darker than jet black, if any such thing could be possible. If I could have flown from the bird’s nest to the deck I would have but I was being pulled away again. Dragged back into the room, the dream was beginning to dissolve from within the dream. Emerging from the book and landing on the hard wood floor hurt.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 14th January!