The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Thirty-Nine :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

I am a deliberate creator. I am at a loss of what to say. I know that everything is always working out for me, I know that I am creating my own future.

Recently, there have been moments, when speaking to Adrian I can see a true reflection of what is being held for me in my desires awaiting my true and best alignment. I can see the effort being made. The offers, the position of crossing the bridge. For the first time in a long time rather than saying “I am making no promises”, when I asked Adrian if what he said is a promise he said “yes” not the age old response I had come to get used to. I was sincerely really happy at the general progress. It was lovely to have made that step forward. Another step forward, was greatly appreciated.

That wasn’t the only moment recently that made me smile thanks to Adrian. He sent me photos of the apartment he has been looking at… It looks good. I mean he didn’t have to show me, and I appreciate the asking of my opinion it was a kind thing to do and ask. It was a cute apartment; I wouldn’t have said no to living in an apartment that looked like that. It’s quite easy to imagine working on my stuff at the dining table, cooking an experimental dinner in the kitchen and sitting curled up on the sofa knitting… It would probably be how I would live in an apartment that looked like that. I don’t mean that under the assumption of living with him, I meant that just under the assumption on living in an apartment that looked like that, though I wouldn’t be averse to living with him.

Another smiley moment? The invitation to go see him for a little while. He is away for work and his concern would be that I would get bored but that’s ok, because I am pretty good at entertaining myself. I would like to go visit him out there. I’d probably be a total pain in the ass, but it would be quite fun to just enjoy chilling out with him. Relaxing is something we have always been able to do around each other. Even if I do occasionally tell him off, I still find myself knowing that with him I am my truest self, the me that I want to be, the best that I want to be. So yes I do enjoy spending time with him.

My name is Elliot Parker, the truth is yeah I still really love Adrian, I strongly think that there will never be a day where that is not the case.

What does that mean for the Jonas thing? Well a crush that didn’t develop or get nurtured. Truth is well, we don’t really talk anymore, it’s just that now I have been making decisions to focus positively on my life and in that and in my absence in attention to our conversation the momentum waned and failed and that’s ok. It is good to have known and conversed in a way that expanded my opinions. I am happy that nothing happened and it didn’t progress, it means we can still be friends. It means that I can still expand my views and opinions.

That’s the thing though isn’t it, people come into our lives for a reason. They can bring new truths, make us better people, inspire us they can do so much to change us as people. We are always lead to those who help us most to grow, that is of course if we let them. So some goodbyes, even those that remain unsaid, like the fading of a conversation, that is ok. That’s the thing, I am always aiming to change for the better. I want to change for good.

I have already changed so much… For those of you who might not be aware of this, I have attended counselling on and off for about a year and a half now. The person who first walked into the counsellor’s room, someone who was broken and severely depressed no longer exists. My counsellor agrees. Yes, I still go. It helps, even when you are feeling better, you can go less often or top it up when you need it. But yes I found it truly helpful. I would give myself homework at first. I would try to keep a diary; each day I would write three positive things that I witnessed in that day. It sounds silly and simple. But it took looking for something good in each day to find it, at first it was small and inconsequential and after a while it grew. The world went from darkness to a spark of something brighter. And the more I looked for good the more I found it and the more the spark grew. That’s the thing once you build positive momentum when I suppose you can say you fell off of the wagon of happiness it can be a bit easier to find the spark again because you knew you could do it because you found it before. Yeah that is a long sentence. But it is important to understand that contrast is momentary when the positive momentum is what you are building in other areas of your life.

My name is Elliot Parker.

Counselling helped me. I am different to what I was. I am no longer holding myself responsible for everyone else’s happiness. The only happiness I am responsible for is mine.

Honestly yesterday, I was upset, in a bad mood. I decided before I went to bed that I had no intention of bringing that day onwards it’s negative momentum would be put to rest that night while I slept and the next day I would start the day from a place of positive momentum. And do you know what? That decision happened I got what I wanted and started the day from a fresh point of attraction, a positive point of attraction.

Author Update (March 2017)

Hiya Guys!

So here we are, coming to the close of March. The Diary of Elliot Parker has returned!!! Not that I am happy about that or anything…

So what have I binge watched lately? The Originals, the spin off from the Vampire Diaries. It’s not too bad. I have been finding it a bit hard at the moment to write. I am working on more of The Diary of Elliot Parker and of course, getting to work on that big project, the massive thing that is taking a tonne of time and thought to do but I am enjoying it truely.

Guitar is going ok, slow progress is still progress. I woke up the other day and had lyrics in my head that I just had to write down, with a little tweak I really loved them. I guess when it comes to writing a song, weirdly, the lyrics arrive before the melody. What comes of being a writer I suppose? I got addicted to the Ed Sheeran songs, he is certainly a talent I admire. Even if I couldn’t get hold of tickets.

Yet another month battling procrastination, writers block and general life chaos. I need to focus more on The Diary of Elliot Parker, the temptation to write the big project over The Diary of Elliot Parker is much bigger. Still not particularly changed the nickname of the big project and to be honest, I still find it has a life of its own, it keeps throwing me curve balls, so who knows.

The big project is certainly a challenge sometimes, where it has come to develop a life of its own I skirt that fine line between wanting the follow the plot very carefully and being true to the characters. I know it is one of those things I shouldn’t complain about. But the story is being co-operative to a degree. It is letting me explore the characters and get inside their heads and when they are ready, they are happy to follow the plot. It is quite a lovely experience.

This month was certainly an experience!

I went to my second funeral this month, RIP Josh. It was beautiful and heartbreaking. He will be so very missed. It was a beautiful send off for a beautiful soul.

I’ve not been doing much writing. I’ve been doing some physio and I end up more exhausted and drained than usual.

I feel like I should start properly planning my nanowrimo project soon. So one step at a time. The inspiration will come for it. I want to get the first book of The Big Project done first though.

I have been thinking about changing this site slightly. I am thinking about possibly doing some new ideas, things I want to add, so that might happen some time in the Summer on the other side of my birthday. I’ll have to see where the inspiration leads.

So I started a diet in the middle of the month last month. The hope was to at least loose 10 kilos or more before the end of March. I have lost just over a kilo and just over an inch off of my waist… not as successful as I had hoped. But something is better than nothing.

Of course I need to throw a little plug in for The Diary of Elliot Parker 🙂

The Diary of Elliot Parker is out now!!! I am happy that it’s now launched. If you haven’t already, catch up on the whole of the first part of The Diary of Elliot Parker so that this part makes a tiny bit more sense- no guarantees on much sense of Elliot in this part, a wee bit of a confusion cloud is setting in.

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?

May luck and adventure be on your side!

ARA xxx

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Thirty-Eight :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

Something odd happened with Adrian recently. More than just one something actually. It has played on my mind a tiny bit. So here it is…

The first weird thing, was I had a weird dream, like weird but accidental. I had a dream that Adrian was adamant he wanted to teach me how to use a vape. Like how odd? I don’t smoke and never have but for some reason he wanted me to try this vape thing. I woke up and I sent him a message “Why did I dream that you tried to teach me how to vape.” His response gave me a giggle, in a way. Well his vape machine, the one he is fond of broke and he was mad. So basically I had that stupid dream because he was mad that his vape machine broke. Seriously?

Something else that was a bit odd?

Well, I got rather excited about something that I have been working on online. So I spread my excitement and told Adrian. He found the project and somehow instantly found one of the things that was about him, but not just anything, the one with the story of how we met and how I felt about things when we met. Of all the things? Well, he sent me that back, when I asked why he was sending me that I asked why. I never got my answer. But I did get a change of topic. So if he does stumble on my diary on here, and knows that he is reading about him, and that he has probably gotten mad at some of the things that I have felt or ranted about on here, and if he has carried on reading and has seen this, I still feel that way. That way of how we met. My heart still skips a beat. No matter how I try to distract myself I still can’t help but smile seeing his name. Picturing his lips when he smiles all goofy at me.

So yes. Strange that page was chosen when there were so many to choose from, almost honed in on it. Odd. But yes, if the question on the mind of his was “do you still feel that way?” Yes.

My name is Elliot Parker. I am a deliberate creator. I am deliberately creating a jackpot win on the lottery. I know what car I would love to get when I win, it’s a used car but I know what colour and what make and for the first time I saw the exact car that I want when I found myself in a place of calm alignment, my little cherry red car that I want. Since then I’ve been seeing that particular model here and there. The one thing I did was have a little look online and now I know what tone of cherry would be my most optimum colour that I desire. That and I know exactly what house I want with my lottery win. It’s one that I stumbled on and since then I have been working out what I want to do in each and every room. The most ultimate thing is the super-giant bed I want. A girl is not stupid; a girl knows she wants a huge comfy giant bed. Sure I could probably choose a nice king size bed and get other furniture in and what have you but a wall to wall right across the room size bed sounds perfect to me. I don’t know how or why and it’s not particularly practical but it is the dream bed even if I know I would probably stick to one zone of the bed. Perhaps I should re-think this after all. I just thought that it would be a great sneaky storage space. Sneaky storage just sounds like a fun think to put into the house. It’s big enough that it would be comfortable to have guest’s stay over and not necessarily have to see them in the day. But that is just me being anti-social. I’d want to turn one of the bedrooms into a storage handy zone where its ok to bath the dog and make a mess. Store cleaning equipment and things like that so that they are out of the way. The dining room I want to convert a bit so that I can have a mini extension space of the kitchen even if it is in a separate room. Like somewhere to hide the tumble and washer and somewhere to put the food so that people can help themselves when I am rarely social. A bit like a breakfast table in the room with the dining table. There could be room for counter top cooking like stuff that you order off of the shopping channels. Why not?

I am so eager and excited for that to manifest. Like I can feel and see the evidence of its manifestation amassing. I am comfortable with that knowing it is ready when I am. I am eager for the unfolding of my desires, particularly those involving the lottery jackpot (and house) and this sense and feeling I have in the air about Adrian. There is just something that is telling me that his walls are melting down between his conscious and subconscious, perhaps there will soon be a time when he can feel comfortable enough for that conversation I can feel that hangs in the air like a fog that never lifts.

My name is Elliot Parker, I am an eager and excited deliberate creator. There is a this exciting and creative world and it feels like the universe likes sending me these messages, the dreams that just tells me one very important thing, everything is always working out for me. However I like to interpret these cheeky little messages and nods from the universe telling me, no shouting at me “you are coming into your best alignment with all that you desire.”

Westminster Attack

Yesterday, Tuesday the 22nd March 2017, there was a display of the duality of humanity, in which there were lives lost.

This post is in memory of those that died during the terrorist attack in the heart of London yesterday, hoping they will be able to rest in peace, unforgotten through time.

It is hoped, that those involved and touched by the violence yesterday will find support, help and peace. The heros, the victims and those that bore witness to the tragedy.

The media reports a terrorist attack. Something that inevitable in time. Destined to be when, not if.

Throughout the incident, the media and subsequent reporting one thing is incredibly clear. The bravery and humanity of the first responders. Those that have shown the great bravery and heroism that goes above and beyond the call of service. For their response, their humanity and their sacrifice stand out against the darkness as the flames and light of the back bone of our country, unwilling to bow to the acts of inhumanity, however horrific.

In honesty, I cannot help but be proud of being British. The resilience and dignified response not only from our emergency services, but by the coverage of the houses of parliament today. There is an incredible degree of pride, admiration and appreciation for the emergency services and their swift action. The sense of defiance is certainly strong, but as strong as that defiance is, there is love that is so much greater. The compassion and the way in which the capital has bound itself together in support and care is incredible.

As incredibly British as it may be, the love of a good cup of tea to cure all ills is still something we stand by. We may have a stiff upper lip, incredible defiance and an endless debate on what exactly makes a perfect cup of tea. We have something more, whether attacks of terrorism are inflicted in explosives, simpler means or even the mob mentality (the London riots), the British people are truly resilient, community-centered, compassionate in their response to life.

May the souls of those who died yesterday in the attack rest in peace.

May the injured of yesterdays attack receive a speedy recovery and support.

May those who were present in the attack receive support and love.

May those who view the news coverage and the media response remember that as a people, the community of the country remains unbowed, unbent and unbroken.

(Please excuse the Game of Thrones reference.)

I cannot help but feel proud of our country today.

Stay safe wherever you may be.

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Thirty-Seven :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

I got back into that room with the books. Now? Now I am once again the stow away girl.

“Move.” The Captains voice is sharp in the cold echo of the cave. The hand on the wrist is pulling me away from the mouth of the cave. Something is out there.

I can feel the energy of a hunter out there searching for its prey. Not just any kind of hunter. I ignore the Captain and crouch down on the ground. I let my fingers leave the cold stone below my knees and trail a path down to the thick moist soil at the edge of the cave. I can feel the dirt, the peat, the stored energy, beyond that I can feel the blades of grass that grow. Further than the sea of green in my mind’s eye a springing map of trees begin to grow and sprout and reach higher and higher towards the sky. The birds begin to bloom like flowers and flutter like petals and they grow silent. The beasts on the ground are silent, except for the occasional whinny and bray of a horse. The first horse gives way to a small huddle. Upon the small huddle of horses, men, the bright blue and cream of the leader. The captain among them a hunter seeking their prey. What is their prey? I search the blue captain’s energy, “what is he hunting?”

“It is not a what.” is the answer I receive. I take a deep breath, “Who is he hunting?”

I wait for the response, “you already know the answer, he is hunting a stowaway girl, he is hunting you.” I swallow the growing panic and try to seek out more information. There are more men around the men on the horses. All wear some band or brand of blue. Being a stolen treasure that wanted to disappear now feels a little less fun. It is less fun than I had expected. The disappointment that we have to move from the cosy, cold cave.

If these men are here, that means they sailed here, they were looking for us and the body of them are on the land. I try to reach further into the distance of landscape towards the sea where we landed, it feels empty and hard and I feel drained. I push further and see to the ships they brought, three. A handful of men on each to keep the boats safe and secure. I have an idea. I pull myself back from the distance of the landscape and pull my fingers a fraction back to the stone and try to cut myself a path in the stone. A way to go down through the land and appear closer to the ships. I begin to pull the ground slowly into this idea. I feel a hand firmly gripping my shoulder and a familiar voice hissing in my ear.

I feel like I am being pulled away from something, pulled away from the world surrounding itself, almost glittering in the map of the mind’s eye.

The Captain’s hand on my shoulder is keeping me still even though I can feel my body swaying and moving in his hands he is pulling me away and further into the cave. “What are you doing?” He hisses in my ear.

“Can’t you feel it? We are being hunted.”

“I know. But you are in the open you can be seen.”

“Not by them, but I saw them.”

“You can be seen by my men, disobeying my orders being near the mouth of the cave, being visible.” His voice is steady and quiet and then his expression changes, “wait, what do you mean you saw them?”

“I don’t know how to explain, but I saw them.”

“What did you see?”

“Men on horses, men on foot. A captain in blue and cream. All the men wore something, like a token of blue.”

“What else? You have to tell my what else you saw. Now.”

“I am trying. There were ships. Three ships, a handful of men on each protecting them. Three ships on the shore. And there is a tunnel. Tunnels in the cave. The tunnels in the caves, there is a path close to the shore where the boats are. Its hidden can’t be seen, there are trees in the entrance. It’s filled with… filled with birds and leaves, I can’t see it, it’s fading. You pulled me away.” I can feel a rage building in my chest. I had been doing something new, that should be impossible.

The Captain must have read the change in my face because now he has pulled me to my feet, “how far away are they?”

“On horse? A day and a half’s ride.”

“That’s our best shot? A day?” I nod. His voice is quieter, “I am sorry.” I look at him questioning his words. He directs me back to the crew. “From now on no one and I mean no one goes near the mouth of the cave, we have hunted enough now we need to prepare and huddle because we are leaving in the hour. Make sure we have enough firewood and torchwood we are going into the caves.”

“How Captain, the caves are a dead end sir?” The crew murmured quietly. The Captain’s glare silenced the man. “I have a hunch,” were his words, “men when are my hunches ever wrong?” There was silence. I could feel a look from a corner of the crew. A look of suspicion, or is it a look that says they know what the Captain means, or what I am, or the truth of what I am. What the Captain is hiding. What I have been hiding. That member of the crew had one ready to test the water. “Captain, what about her, I saw her at the mouth of the cave. She disobeyed orders.” The Captain let his glance fall to me. “That she did.”