Urban Myth, something I have no proof for...My Dad; The Burglar

When I was five I distinctly remember my dad sneaking in from the garage at midnight, he shone the torch and whispered "Sian, quiet, come see this." I was gleeful to go into daddy's garage and share a secret. He helped me down the step and the light of the torch bounced into my eyes, it bounced again and at first it was like a pool of water so shiny that I saw myself and my daddy reflected in the black surface. It was a car. Daddy ran his hand along the sleek hard edges like it was a dog, chrome jaws lined the front of this monster and I knew deep inside that it was special. Daddy lifted me up, (he used to be a giant) and he sat me on the hood.
"Do you know what this is? It's a Dodge Charger." The way he said it made my eyes widen, but back then a seven and half litre V8 meant nothing to me, but the roar of those horses under the hood did. My dad let me sit behind the wheel, and even though my feet didnt touch the pedals I would forever hold in my memory that I drove an american muscule car. That was the first time I saw stolen goods.

I was fourteen when I rode the back of Dad's Harley with him. I was told me to wait with the bike, but I didn't. I followed my dad around the back of the house, I waited and waited for so long and then I heard the sirens and I knew something had gone wrong, it was me that ran back to the bike, I barely managed to straddle its thick and hard seat and grip the bars, it was me that kicked the bike into life and me that he threw the bag to. I ran. I hid. I waited.
Dad took off on the bike I'd started for him, I knew he'd come back for me, and he did. He wasnt the hugging loving type my dad, he just said "good girl." it was the best praise. That was the first time I assisted a robbery.

Really I should have known...dad always wore black nothing else, he still does just incase a prime oppurtunity turns up I guess. I picked up habits from him, I carry a torch in my bag, I have a fake name and address memorized for no good reason. I never spoke about dad's side line job in or out of the house, and theif was a word we didnt use. I often wondered my brothers werent in on the secret...i asked my father once and he said "Because only you have the nerve for it."
I listened at the door to my parents arguing
"She shouldnt be involved" my mother was grinding out through her teeth
"Sian's got the spirit for it, she turns her head at the right time, she distracts who needs luring away, she ducks when they shoot, she hides when they look, she's just a natural."
I smiled from behind the wall.

My dad has long since retired, well, in so many words...you see theres this look we have, sometimes theres a new robbery film out, or my dad see's the perfect heist and I know his mind is ticking over the job. I do it too, it's second to breathing. One day, dad will give me the nod and i'll follow, I know theres still the big one we have yet to pull off. There's a diamond, a boat, a painting with our name on it somewhere. Dad's always joked around "I grew up as a jewel thief...I was a cat burglar once" I roll my eyes and laugh at the right moment. But it's all a lie. Most people don't believe the unbelievable because they cant imagine anything so amazing is real. Most people refuse to let entry into their minds that which they cant understand or comprehend. It's a lie, it's all a lie.
Is it? are you sure? Is it really so hard to believe that I'm a girl who's dad was a thief? It's all a lie, really. none of this is true....or is it?

My Funeral songs

Morbid I know, but I happen to know the answer to this question. I hope when my clock stops ticking in this life those close to me arranging this funeral...a hem Emily, My family, and a few select others I imagine I'll collect over my life should know the sort of thing I want. I'd prefer an apple tree rather than a stone, leaves instead of flowers, but if there must be flowers please be daffofils that come up every spring. :-) I dont mind what happens to my shell (body) I will already be going into my next life...either darting around the forest as a fox, or possibly flying with the angel wings i've always longed for. When I meet God, or Gods hey! who says he's alone, I intend on having a pot of tea and a good old chat before requesting what I would like to be reincarnated as.

The music, you should know this...country. Sweet american southern poetry that picks you up and flys you off onto a dirt road, into a warm lake, across the blue sky. I want these two songs:
They talk in a beautiful simple way about freedom, nature, the desire I feel every day that I hope is expressed in my most intimate of writing. I want to ride, I want to fly, Chase the wind and touch the sky. This is how I want to be remembered. I want my writing to live on, I want my life to have been full and brilliant, I want to fly off like a bird, like an angel and these are the sonsg that will be in my thoughts. Thank you.
Dixie Chicks,

"Cowboy Take Me Away"

I said I wanna touch the earth
I wanna break it in my hands
I wanna grow something wild and unruly

I wanna sleep on the hard ground
In the comfort of your arms
On a pillow of bluebonnets
In a blanket made of stars

Oh it sounds good to me I said

Cowboy take me away
Fly this girl as high as you can
Into the wild blue
Set me free oh I pray
Closer to heaven above and
Closer to you closer to you

I wanna walk and not run
I wanna skip and not fall
I wanna look at the horizon
And not see a building standing tall

I wanna be the only one
For miles and miles
Except for maybe you
And your simple smile

 

Touch The Sky by Julie Fowlis

When cold winds are calling,
And the sky is clear and bright,
Misty mountains sing and beckon,
Lead me out into the light.

I will ride, I will fly,
Chase the wind and touch the sky,
I will fly,
Chase the wind and touch the sky.

Where dark woods hide secrets,
And mountains are fierce and bold,
Deep waters hold reflections,
Of times lost long ago.

I will hear their every story,
Take hold of my own dream,
Be as strong as the seas are stormy,
And proud as an eagle's scream.

I will ride, I will fly,
Chase the wind and touch the sky,
I will fly,
Chase the wind and touch the sky.

And touch the sky.

Chase the wind, chase the wind.

Touch the sky.

 

a rant about my laptop

When I first lay my laptop out on my bed and touched its delicate little keys, and adjusted my eyes to the glaring light, I thought "You are mine you little treasure, you may hold my secrets (emails, writing, naughty photos, facebook log in, that disney game I played like once..twice) and I named this treasure Harry Potter (it's a H.P, geddit?) I did not think it would ever cause me such grief.

The DAMN SODDING PIECE OF CRAPPY CRAP CRAP has busted on me!! Effing hell's sake, I cant get it to switch on properly, load up, shut down! the entire system is spitting out typed computer language like dishfidjiksjfvnvxhfufsdhjfh32763736487hdsbjhcvbj not responding not responding.
what am I supposed to do about this? I don't know, I don't work in comet or wherever the hell I got this thing from. I neeeeeed my laptop back, my secrets, my stuff! Some randomer from china is probably hacking into my system as we speak! I am currently on the 'family computer' oh cringe..this computer is used by my parents, cringe. Downstairs, in the freezing cold, no heating living room. I'm wrapped in a coat and blanket. My fingers are stinging slightly.  My naughty laptop is upstairs in the warmth of my bedroom. My music!!! my beautiful, soul soothing, hard core drive on the dirt roads, country music, it's all on that laptop!..I can't stand another minute of this HEART FM crap- diamonds in the sky, that the best they can come up with? and One Direction ripping off a classic like their own! oh no, I need my music back. First thing in the morning I'm taking this laptop to the shop, PC world? I dunno, anywhere, someone must be able to fix this.