The stillness of your eyes
convinces me that I,
I don't know a thing
I don't know what it is about this song, but it sticks in my head and haunts my dreams.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Went out and got drunk last night.
My mate Brian showed up on my doorstep at 11pm last night (must invest in a blood-craving pitbull). He dragged me to his local club. Helped me finish off the last of my smokes and money.
I'm still sick from last week, throat kills, and it's hard to breath whilst choking to death. Alcohol fixed problem. Ciggerettes brought problem back... Lot of pain.
Is it too much to ask to just be healthy. You know it's bad when you crave a never ending box of tissues.
My mate Brian showed up on my doorstep at 11pm last night (must invest in a blood-craving pitbull). He dragged me to his local club. Helped me finish off the last of my smokes and money.
I'm still sick from last week, throat kills, and it's hard to breath whilst choking to death. Alcohol fixed problem. Ciggerettes brought problem back... Lot of pain.
Is it too much to ask to just be healthy. You know it's bad when you crave a never ending box of tissues.
Friday, December 02, 2005
The Challenges
Just a note to say I am working on them, but I like to research things that are based on actual events so gimme a little time please.
Now for something different
I wrote this a long time ago, it probably wont make much sense, it revolves around Australia's comedians. It was a challenge issued to me by a magazine, whether they used it or not I have no idea.
THE DRIPS THAT MIME FORGOT
He lay on the sandy bank, the waves washing gently upon his feet; the sun shone heavily on his half naked body. He rose to his feet, his pants, though ripped and worn, were still in tact, his shirt had been ruptured from his chest during the storm. He was of average height, nonetheless still considered short by his shipmates; his hair was of a black charcoal colour (I am aware that both black and charcoal are not colours) with brown roots starting to break through. Paul rose to his feet and took in the surroundings. He appeared to be on an island somewhere in the south pacific, the remnants of his ship were scattered all along the shoreline, but the crew were nowhere in sight. His head was throbbing from a protuberance upon his brow; a painful reminder of the previous night and slowly the memory of last night came flooding back…
Their ship, The Thesba, floated patiently upon the blanket of ocean that was the south pacific, a storm could be seen on the horizon, but could be easily avoided. The crew were a motley bunch of sailors that knew fuck all about sailing, but the temptation of buried treasure, significantly outweighed their sailing ability. The Captain, Cap'n Robins, a jolly man of vast proportions, had assembled them. The first mate was a cocky, mischievous devil by the name of Ferguson; he loved alcohol, women, and practical jokes. The navigator was a man by the name of Fidler, which might explain why they were hopelessly lost; he was a nice caring soul with an addiction for expensive comic books. The sailors consisted of six men, Flacco, Sandy, Mark (bob for fun), Psycho Bob, Wil, and Rove. Paul was the cabin boy.
Flacco was asleep in the crows-nest, Paul was busy scrubbing the deck, while most of the crew hung below, sleeping off a hangover of rum and tequila. The Captain sat in the cabin having a heated argument with First Mate Ferguson, snippets of the conversation wafted into Paul's inquisitive ears. "What do you mean we're lost, you're the captain, find us!" the captain, slightly quieter replied, "…Not that simple mate…Fidler's fault…cant go on…have to…kill him" "About bloody time." Paul listened on in horror, they were plotting to kill Fidler, Paul continued scrubbing, but planned to warn Fidler of the terrible scheme the Cap'n and First Mate were concocting. Paul snuck into the navigator's quarters, Fidler lay on the floor, next to his bed (no he's not dead, just drunk), Paul shook him till he woke, "Rich, wake up, wake up… WAKE UP YOU DUM FUCK, THEIR GONNA KILL YA" Rich woke with a start, "what, what the fuck have you been smoking?" Paul dragged Rich to the bed, "the Cap'n and first mate are planning to kill you, you've got us lost you wanker" "calm down, Paulie, you must have heard wrong" "Flacco was there, in the crows-nest, go ask him" Rich rose from his bed and walked to the door, before turning to Paul "are you coming or not?" Paul stood and followed Rich to the deck, Slowly they climbed the netting that led to the crows-nest, Paul was the first to reach the top, he'd always been good at climbing, the crew had taken to calling him monkey boy, Paul climbed into the crows-nest to find a sleeping Flacco, "oh, for fucks sake" then down to Rich "the fuckwit's asleep, he wouldn't have heard shit" Paul slid down the mizzen mast to join Rich, who had returned to the deck. Unseen by Paul and Rich, the Cap'n and Tim had silently emerged from the captain's cabin and Tim was quietly aiming a knife at Richard's back. KER-THWACK, Paul and Rich froze as a knife soared past them and planted itself in the mizzen mast, after the initial shock they turned around to face their adversaries. Cap'n Robins and Tim glared evilly at Paul and Rich, Tim walked closer to Paul "it's not too late to change sides little buddy, you know you belong behind me… I mean beside me," Tim said with a seductive smile. Paul thought for a minute, it had been nice snuggling up to Tim on those cold nights, no, this was murder, although he would miss it dearly, he had to do what was right, "Get fucked Ferguson" and then Paul spat in Tim's face. Up above, Flacco had come to and had been watching the events fold out below with trepidation. He stood up, grabbed the anvil that was sitting beside him (I don't know why there was an anvil sitting beside him, so don't ask) and dropped it off the side of the crows-nest. A sound could be heard overhead, but no one dared take their eyes off their opponents, they stood their ground trying to anticipate the others next move; it wasn't what they expected. SPLAT, an anvil landed smack dab on Richard's head killing him instantly, the Cap'n let out a sinister laugh, "hahahaaaaaaa" Tim stared blankly at Rich for a second before replying "its just what he would of wanted, straight out of the comic books." Paul, although quite mad, turned tail and ran below to get help. Flacco stood above laughing his head off "Now that's comedy" BIFF-CRACK, a lightning bolt hit Flacco, electrocuting him where he stood (I'll bet that hurt), the storm was upon them. Paul ran into the cabins, tripped on something and fell hard against the floor, Psycho Bob retracted his leg from the path Paul had just taken and positioned himself on the floor beside Paul, "Stay down soldier, the enemy is everywhere, listen…" Paul looked at him with uncertainty, "I hear nothing." Bob hit Paul across the back of the head, "Shut up soldier, your talking could have killed us both, Charlie is out there" he produced a knife and held it to Paul's throat whilst saying "he'll come up behind you, pretend to be your friend, and then, when you least expect it, RIP, he's disembowelled you via the throat" Paul momentarily shocked by the knife, regained himself and kicked bob in the groin (ouch), bob naturally released his grip on Paul, Paul seized the moment and ran to the next cabin. Up on deck the Captain had forgotten his blood lust and was at the helm, trying desperately to regain control of his ship, the storm was tossing the little ship around the sea, as if it were a feather. Tim had followed Paul to the cabins, stopping only to look in the mirror (half an hour later), Tim entered the crews cabin only to be knocked to his knees by a man wearing camouflage, "get down soldier, the enemy is out there" Tim, slightly stunned replied, "enemy?" "That's right soldier, the enemy is ruthless, cunning, nauseating and short" Tim suddenly realized whom Bob was referring to, "Paul…Where did he go" "not so fast soldier, we're in the middle of a war" Bob pointed the gun at Tim and fired. Paul ran to Wil, "mate you gotta help me, it's the Cap'n and Tim, they're trying to kill me" Wil thought for a moment, "I'd love to help ya Paulie, but you chose Tim for a bed buddy and not me, I'm still a little offended by that, sorry" Paul couldn't believe it, he was on a ship full of mental patients, he hit Wil on the head with his musket and left the cabin. Bob glanced down at his gun, it had backfired leaving an empty hole in Bobs stomach, Bob lifted his head, stared at Tim and said "I'm Bob, Do you want fries with that?" then fell down dead (what, you were expecting "I'll be back"). Tim stepped over Bob's corpse and exited the cabin. TRA-CRACK, a lightning bolt hit the mast, the sail burst into flames, the Captain saw this and yelled "Shit" the Thesba was on fire and it was going down. The Captain manned the life raft and left the ship faster than…rats abandoning a sinking ship. Paul opened the next door to find the ships clown, Sandy, it looked like he had retrieved Flacco"s body, ripped his legs off and was now stirring Flacco's body in a giant frying pan. "What the fuck are you doing" Sandy, only just noticing Paul, glanced up and smiled, "making scrambled eggs, do you want some?" "I don't think so" Paul said severely freaked, and left the cabin. Tim opened the next door, to discover what looked like a TV studio, with some little guy sitting at a table covered in toys, Rove looked up and saw Tim, Tim, who was quite pissed off by this point said "who the hell are you?" Rove stood up and responded "I'm Rove McManus, Say hi to your mum for me" "Fuck this" Tim said and threw his knife at rove, it hit rove just below the ribcage, Rove looked down mortified and said "What the…" and dropped to the floor dead. MI-CRASH, the fire on deck had taken its toll on the little ship and it had snapped into pieces. What was left of the crew washed into the briny blue. Paul was flung against the hull, normally this would kill a man, but not our little battler, Paul grasped some of the rigging and soared to the safety of the sea. Paul grabbed a piece of ship floating nearby and sprawled himself on top of it, then he heard it, "pixie, pixie" he looked up, Tim was baring down on him, knife already in attack position, Paul sighed "I give up" then from the depths of the ocean Mark rose up, took hold of Tim and dragged him down into the deep blue sea. Paul, too tired to be surprised, curled up and went to sleep.
Paul could not believe he'd lost everything and everyone in one night, though it still didn't explain the massive abrasion on his head. Abruptly, a coconut fell from the tree above, knocking Paul on the head and killing him instantly, then landing on the sand among other coconuts.
THE END
Now for something different
I wrote this a long time ago, it probably wont make much sense, it revolves around Australia's comedians. It was a challenge issued to me by a magazine, whether they used it or not I have no idea.
THE DRIPS THAT MIME FORGOT
He lay on the sandy bank, the waves washing gently upon his feet; the sun shone heavily on his half naked body. He rose to his feet, his pants, though ripped and worn, were still in tact, his shirt had been ruptured from his chest during the storm. He was of average height, nonetheless still considered short by his shipmates; his hair was of a black charcoal colour (I am aware that both black and charcoal are not colours) with brown roots starting to break through. Paul rose to his feet and took in the surroundings. He appeared to be on an island somewhere in the south pacific, the remnants of his ship were scattered all along the shoreline, but the crew were nowhere in sight. His head was throbbing from a protuberance upon his brow; a painful reminder of the previous night and slowly the memory of last night came flooding back…
Their ship, The Thesba, floated patiently upon the blanket of ocean that was the south pacific, a storm could be seen on the horizon, but could be easily avoided. The crew were a motley bunch of sailors that knew fuck all about sailing, but the temptation of buried treasure, significantly outweighed their sailing ability. The Captain, Cap'n Robins, a jolly man of vast proportions, had assembled them. The first mate was a cocky, mischievous devil by the name of Ferguson; he loved alcohol, women, and practical jokes. The navigator was a man by the name of Fidler, which might explain why they were hopelessly lost; he was a nice caring soul with an addiction for expensive comic books. The sailors consisted of six men, Flacco, Sandy, Mark (bob for fun), Psycho Bob, Wil, and Rove. Paul was the cabin boy.
Flacco was asleep in the crows-nest, Paul was busy scrubbing the deck, while most of the crew hung below, sleeping off a hangover of rum and tequila. The Captain sat in the cabin having a heated argument with First Mate Ferguson, snippets of the conversation wafted into Paul's inquisitive ears. "What do you mean we're lost, you're the captain, find us!" the captain, slightly quieter replied, "…Not that simple mate…Fidler's fault…cant go on…have to…kill him" "About bloody time." Paul listened on in horror, they were plotting to kill Fidler, Paul continued scrubbing, but planned to warn Fidler of the terrible scheme the Cap'n and First Mate were concocting. Paul snuck into the navigator's quarters, Fidler lay on the floor, next to his bed (no he's not dead, just drunk), Paul shook him till he woke, "Rich, wake up, wake up… WAKE UP YOU DUM FUCK, THEIR GONNA KILL YA" Rich woke with a start, "what, what the fuck have you been smoking?" Paul dragged Rich to the bed, "the Cap'n and first mate are planning to kill you, you've got us lost you wanker" "calm down, Paulie, you must have heard wrong" "Flacco was there, in the crows-nest, go ask him" Rich rose from his bed and walked to the door, before turning to Paul "are you coming or not?" Paul stood and followed Rich to the deck, Slowly they climbed the netting that led to the crows-nest, Paul was the first to reach the top, he'd always been good at climbing, the crew had taken to calling him monkey boy, Paul climbed into the crows-nest to find a sleeping Flacco, "oh, for fucks sake" then down to Rich "the fuckwit's asleep, he wouldn't have heard shit" Paul slid down the mizzen mast to join Rich, who had returned to the deck. Unseen by Paul and Rich, the Cap'n and Tim had silently emerged from the captain's cabin and Tim was quietly aiming a knife at Richard's back. KER-THWACK, Paul and Rich froze as a knife soared past them and planted itself in the mizzen mast, after the initial shock they turned around to face their adversaries. Cap'n Robins and Tim glared evilly at Paul and Rich, Tim walked closer to Paul "it's not too late to change sides little buddy, you know you belong behind me… I mean beside me," Tim said with a seductive smile. Paul thought for a minute, it had been nice snuggling up to Tim on those cold nights, no, this was murder, although he would miss it dearly, he had to do what was right, "Get fucked Ferguson" and then Paul spat in Tim's face. Up above, Flacco had come to and had been watching the events fold out below with trepidation. He stood up, grabbed the anvil that was sitting beside him (I don't know why there was an anvil sitting beside him, so don't ask) and dropped it off the side of the crows-nest. A sound could be heard overhead, but no one dared take their eyes off their opponents, they stood their ground trying to anticipate the others next move; it wasn't what they expected. SPLAT, an anvil landed smack dab on Richard's head killing him instantly, the Cap'n let out a sinister laugh, "hahahaaaaaaa" Tim stared blankly at Rich for a second before replying "its just what he would of wanted, straight out of the comic books." Paul, although quite mad, turned tail and ran below to get help. Flacco stood above laughing his head off "Now that's comedy" BIFF-CRACK, a lightning bolt hit Flacco, electrocuting him where he stood (I'll bet that hurt), the storm was upon them. Paul ran into the cabins, tripped on something and fell hard against the floor, Psycho Bob retracted his leg from the path Paul had just taken and positioned himself on the floor beside Paul, "Stay down soldier, the enemy is everywhere, listen…" Paul looked at him with uncertainty, "I hear nothing." Bob hit Paul across the back of the head, "Shut up soldier, your talking could have killed us both, Charlie is out there" he produced a knife and held it to Paul's throat whilst saying "he'll come up behind you, pretend to be your friend, and then, when you least expect it, RIP, he's disembowelled you via the throat" Paul momentarily shocked by the knife, regained himself and kicked bob in the groin (ouch), bob naturally released his grip on Paul, Paul seized the moment and ran to the next cabin. Up on deck the Captain had forgotten his blood lust and was at the helm, trying desperately to regain control of his ship, the storm was tossing the little ship around the sea, as if it were a feather. Tim had followed Paul to the cabins, stopping only to look in the mirror (half an hour later), Tim entered the crews cabin only to be knocked to his knees by a man wearing camouflage, "get down soldier, the enemy is out there" Tim, slightly stunned replied, "enemy?" "That's right soldier, the enemy is ruthless, cunning, nauseating and short" Tim suddenly realized whom Bob was referring to, "Paul…Where did he go" "not so fast soldier, we're in the middle of a war" Bob pointed the gun at Tim and fired. Paul ran to Wil, "mate you gotta help me, it's the Cap'n and Tim, they're trying to kill me" Wil thought for a moment, "I'd love to help ya Paulie, but you chose Tim for a bed buddy and not me, I'm still a little offended by that, sorry" Paul couldn't believe it, he was on a ship full of mental patients, he hit Wil on the head with his musket and left the cabin. Bob glanced down at his gun, it had backfired leaving an empty hole in Bobs stomach, Bob lifted his head, stared at Tim and said "I'm Bob, Do you want fries with that?" then fell down dead (what, you were expecting "I'll be back"). Tim stepped over Bob's corpse and exited the cabin. TRA-CRACK, a lightning bolt hit the mast, the sail burst into flames, the Captain saw this and yelled "Shit" the Thesba was on fire and it was going down. The Captain manned the life raft and left the ship faster than…rats abandoning a sinking ship. Paul opened the next door to find the ships clown, Sandy, it looked like he had retrieved Flacco"s body, ripped his legs off and was now stirring Flacco's body in a giant frying pan. "What the fuck are you doing" Sandy, only just noticing Paul, glanced up and smiled, "making scrambled eggs, do you want some?" "I don't think so" Paul said severely freaked, and left the cabin. Tim opened the next door, to discover what looked like a TV studio, with some little guy sitting at a table covered in toys, Rove looked up and saw Tim, Tim, who was quite pissed off by this point said "who the hell are you?" Rove stood up and responded "I'm Rove McManus, Say hi to your mum for me" "Fuck this" Tim said and threw his knife at rove, it hit rove just below the ribcage, Rove looked down mortified and said "What the…" and dropped to the floor dead. MI-CRASH, the fire on deck had taken its toll on the little ship and it had snapped into pieces. What was left of the crew washed into the briny blue. Paul was flung against the hull, normally this would kill a man, but not our little battler, Paul grasped some of the rigging and soared to the safety of the sea. Paul grabbed a piece of ship floating nearby and sprawled himself on top of it, then he heard it, "pixie, pixie" he looked up, Tim was baring down on him, knife already in attack position, Paul sighed "I give up" then from the depths of the ocean Mark rose up, took hold of Tim and dragged him down into the deep blue sea. Paul, too tired to be surprised, curled up and went to sleep.
Paul could not believe he'd lost everything and everyone in one night, though it still didn't explain the massive abrasion on his head. Abruptly, a coconut fell from the tree above, knocking Paul on the head and killing him instantly, then landing on the sand among other coconuts.
THE END
The Idea
The Idea is what we all seek, something to set us apart, to make us better than the common euro trash. The Idea will make us great, will provide lots of money and lets not forget fame, but how do we get the Idea? Every idea has to be different, new, creative, and even innovative. It must call out to the common, petty masses "I am a God," and most importantly, it must come from you. The last part is the hardest part of all, how can you aim to get something you already have, but don't realize? Strange. You would have to have some intellect, or else you wouldn't comprehend a thought. Have you ever tried to think of something great to say to someone, but fucked it up? You always seem to think of it afterwards, when it no longer matters. (This is relevant to all people except me, I say anything cause nothing ever matters). The Idea will always come when you're doing something else, hence, so many ideas slip by un-noticed, but that is when it will happen.
Why can't we steal someone else's idea? Well, for starters it's not very nice and I'm known for my amiability, and you shouldn't do it because there is a lot more anger in the world today then there used to be. Chances are if you strike it rich on someone else's idea, they'll track you down and kill ya! I know I would.
The Idea is not a parable people, it's real and it's out there if you want it.
'The Idea' is very similar to 'The Dream,' or 'The Unanswered Question,' they keep us going, life is a journey and it's with the thought of these, that we face our lives, it is the faith that we take with us. If we succeed or fail, it doesn't matter, no one is worthy to judge us, no one has the right. What matters is that we were there! Did we make a difference? Yes. No I did not stop the little girl from falling down the stairs, but I was there to laugh at her as she fell. She has learnt embarrassment; I made a difference. No I did not stop an assassination, but I distracted someone else that could have stopped it. The possibilities are endless!
People I have my 'Idea' one of the many, but this one has promise, and I will complete this, if only to fail after it is accomplished, but then at least I will know, know that it doesn't matter how great my idea was, or how much money it will make me. What's important is The Idea and that I am capable of it.
Nothing else matters
Why can't we steal someone else's idea? Well, for starters it's not very nice and I'm known for my amiability, and you shouldn't do it because there is a lot more anger in the world today then there used to be. Chances are if you strike it rich on someone else's idea, they'll track you down and kill ya! I know I would.
The Idea is not a parable people, it's real and it's out there if you want it.
'The Idea' is very similar to 'The Dream,' or 'The Unanswered Question,' they keep us going, life is a journey and it's with the thought of these, that we face our lives, it is the faith that we take with us. If we succeed or fail, it doesn't matter, no one is worthy to judge us, no one has the right. What matters is that we were there! Did we make a difference? Yes. No I did not stop the little girl from falling down the stairs, but I was there to laugh at her as she fell. She has learnt embarrassment; I made a difference. No I did not stop an assassination, but I distracted someone else that could have stopped it. The possibilities are endless!
People I have my 'Idea' one of the many, but this one has promise, and I will complete this, if only to fail after it is accomplished, but then at least I will know, know that it doesn't matter how great my idea was, or how much money it will make me. What's important is The Idea and that I am capable of it.
Nothing else matters
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Your turn - think of it as a christmas present.
Why do we read? Other than for knowledge I mean. I know why I read, it's the same reason I write and paint. It allows me to enter another world, it lets me experience things I would never be able to experience in real life. So many things we can now achieve in books, it makes you wonder how people ever put them down. I don't put them down easy, I know I'll never go overseas and see all the things I want to see, the only place I'll ever know that excitement is by experiencing it through other people in a book. I'm not bitter that I'll never get there, I'm grateful someone else has put pen to paper to allow me to experience that feeling.
I can be anything in a book, well almost anything, the one thing I can never be is me. I know many others also escape into books, it allows them to live in another age, another world, another species. It allows you to dream that you might actually get there one day.
Now I know where I want a book to take me, none will take me there unless I write the book myself, that's one of the reasons I write, that and I'm really good at it :D. Sometimes though it is good to be led and I wonder where do other people want books to take them?
So lead me my friends, I will write any style, any period, anything at all, put down what you want and I will write it up. Short things only, I don't want to write war and peace just yet :). Just tell me where we are going and I will take us there.
So what do you want me to write people?
I'll answer every single challenge.
Inspire me.
I can be anything in a book, well almost anything, the one thing I can never be is me. I know many others also escape into books, it allows them to live in another age, another world, another species. It allows you to dream that you might actually get there one day.
Now I know where I want a book to take me, none will take me there unless I write the book myself, that's one of the reasons I write, that and I'm really good at it :D. Sometimes though it is good to be led and I wonder where do other people want books to take them?
So lead me my friends, I will write any style, any period, anything at all, put down what you want and I will write it up. Short things only, I don't want to write war and peace just yet :). Just tell me where we are going and I will take us there.
So what do you want me to write people?
I'll answer every single challenge.
Inspire me.
5 faults 10 Facts - Because you asked so nicely.
5 Faults
1. I smoke, though I am contemplating quitting.
2. I remember when people intentionally hurt me and I hold a grudge for all eternity unless they apologies.
3. I don't exercise.
4. I envy other people.
5. I'm not emotional.
10 Facts
1. It's very hard to offend me as I don't take life to seriously.
2. I actually do care a great deal for others, but I'm not an emotional person so you wont see it.
3. I'm scared of life but I do love every moment of it.
4. I have excellent senses, it's wired but I can detect almost any smell, see farther/better than everyone I know, and taste every single little thing.
5. I can make anyone laugh and I'm at my happiest when I'm making people laugh.
6. I've been in four near death experiences, I was hit by a car, in a car that was flattened by a horse, hit buy a bus and been in an armed robbery, scary as they were they make me who I am, it might explain my love of life.
7. I'm in love with someone who I know will never love me.
8. I've been on TV too many times and I played a drug addict extra once in a movie.
9. I get stage fright, I shake all over, but I'm told it isn't noticeable.
10. I want to get my books published more than anything in the world, but the publisher only takes my poetry.
1. I smoke, though I am contemplating quitting.
2. I remember when people intentionally hurt me and I hold a grudge for all eternity unless they apologies.
3. I don't exercise.
4. I envy other people.
5. I'm not emotional.
10 Facts
1. It's very hard to offend me as I don't take life to seriously.
2. I actually do care a great deal for others, but I'm not an emotional person so you wont see it.
3. I'm scared of life but I do love every moment of it.
4. I have excellent senses, it's wired but I can detect almost any smell, see farther/better than everyone I know, and taste every single little thing.
5. I can make anyone laugh and I'm at my happiest when I'm making people laugh.
6. I've been in four near death experiences, I was hit by a car, in a car that was flattened by a horse, hit buy a bus and been in an armed robbery, scary as they were they make me who I am, it might explain my love of life.
7. I'm in love with someone who I know will never love me.
8. I've been on TV too many times and I played a drug addict extra once in a movie.
9. I get stage fright, I shake all over, but I'm told it isn't noticeable.
10. I want to get my books published more than anything in the world, but the publisher only takes my poetry.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Moral Dilema
All around the world right now, as you read this, people are dying. Now this may seem quite sad, but when I think about it, it makes me feel special, because rather than help those poor suffering people, you have chosen to read this. Now that's either because I'm a brilliant writer and you can't live without my words of wisdom, or it's because you're one lazy fuck that can't be bothered to go out and do something, you'd much rather sit on your ass and cruise the web searching for porn...
So which one are you?
So which one are you?
| Your Seduction Style: Fantasy Lover |
 You know that ideal love that each of us dreams of from childhood? That's you! Not because you posess all of the ideal characteristics, but because you are a savvy shape shifter. You have the uncanny ability to detect someone's particular fantasy... and make it you. You inspire each person to be an idealist and passionate, and you make each moment memorable Even a simple coffee date with you can be the most romantic moment of someone's life By giving your date exactly what he or she desires, you quickly become the ideal lover. Your abilities to make dreams come true is so strong, that you are often the love of many people's lives. Your ex's (and even people you have simply met or been friends with) long to be yours. No doubt you are the one others have dreamed of... your biggest challenge is finding *your* dream lover. |
| Your Observation Skills Get An A+ |
 You have perfect observation skills... Or perfect skils for Googling quiz answers! |
A thought on the Irony of Life
She sits on the small brick wall, waiting patiently, a look of hope in her eyes as the minutes slowly tick by. At least a hundred people walk by, ascending the steps to the train, she sits unnoticed, a stranger in the crowd, and then he appears, over the crossing and up the lane. He approaches her with a grin of expectation upon his face; she rises and runs to him. They embrace in the centre of the road, oblivious to all around them, they are young and the world is theirs. I was unfortunate enough to bare witness to this disgusting display of affection, and all I could think was; wouldn't it be funny if a truck came along and hit them in this moment of passion. Them, in their own little world, feeling like they were on top of it, only to be killed by a truck and cast out of the world for good. Perhaps I am cynical, but I find it amusing when fate takes a hand by showing us the satire that is life. I wonder who would miss them; will anyone even notice their absence? The one person that would never forget them, that would have their faces embedded in his memory for life, would be that of the truck driver, and he'd never even met them. Why is it that we are at our most careless, at moments of pure bliss? Perchance it is life's way of showing us that infinite happiness can never be achieved, and the second we let our guard down, we will be attacked by every bad occurrence that life has to offer… I slowly come back to reality; the couple have gone moved on with their lives to never know the fate I wanted to befall them. I question their happiness and their future, are they really happy or is it just put on for public amusement, when they go home does he beat her, is she in actual fact, only happy due to her addiction to Prozac, is she secretly mixing thallium with his coffee (thallium is an active chemical used in most rat poisons) or is it something simple, like an affair. I'd like to think that they are truly happy, that their love will last forever, but as I've stated earlier, this is reality and although my thoughts don't amount to much, one of them is bound to end up right. So I ask myself this, would it be better to progress past the love, to the abuse, the addictions, the affair, the murder… or end the romance as it began, at a moment of pure bliss, and get hit by a truck.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Letting Go
Its time to say goodbye, how could I let it end like this, I could have saved you, I could have been more gentle, but it never occurred to me at the time and now I must say goodbye. How could I ever replace you, I could never find another just like you, and yet I must, it just isn't fair. I remember every masterpiece we shared, every touch, how you danced in my arms, the way we moved in time was beautiful, we made music together, a sonata that only we two could share. Others may have glanced the work of art we portrayed, but they could never truly know how I feet inside, I know you did. I remember when I first found you, you were all alone, lost as it were, but I didn't care, I held you in my arms, I took you home and you became part of my elite little family. If only I had the sense to look after you, to care for you as you performed for me, instead I used and abused you, never thinking of tomorrow, never realising that one day I would take it to far. And through it all I've heard no complaints, you always danced so gracefully as if in a timeless waltz with occasional pauses. I know I must let you go, allow you to fall from my hands forever. I can't use you any longer, you no longer dance for me, but if I keep you I don't think I could bare to handle another whilst you're present. I hope you'll forgive me for cutting your life short, you know I didn't mean to do it, it was my stupidity and impatience that drove me to it, looking back now, I know I was a fool. By writing this, I hope you'll know that I care, that in your final resting place I'll be there to say goodbye and to mourn. Now as darkness falls, it seems I'm lost without you, but one day I will move on, and maybe when I die we will meet again and we will dance together once more on that giant canvas in the sky. Good-bye my dear favorite paintbrush.
Don't say a word
This isn't one of my better pieces and it's certainly not one of my long pieces, but I may as well throw it in ;p
"Shh, don't say a word." Footsteps down the hallway, his body bumping into the walls. He is drunk again, I want to hide but there is no point, he will only find me and hurt me more. His hand is on the door knob, I pray he will turn and walk away but I know in my heart that he wont. The door opens, the room fills with light outlining his frame in the doorway and I know there is no escape. He hovers at the door for a moment, I can't see his face but I can imagine his expression, that sly, evil grin and darting brown eyes. He closes the door and locks it, he leaves the light switch off abolishing himself of guilt by closing his eyes to his deeds but I see it clearly. He reaches out his arms for me and those terrifying familiar words come from his mouth once more, "Shh, don't say a word."
"Shh, don't say a word." Footsteps down the hallway, his body bumping into the walls. He is drunk again, I want to hide but there is no point, he will only find me and hurt me more. His hand is on the door knob, I pray he will turn and walk away but I know in my heart that he wont. The door opens, the room fills with light outlining his frame in the doorway and I know there is no escape. He hovers at the door for a moment, I can't see his face but I can imagine his expression, that sly, evil grin and darting brown eyes. He closes the door and locks it, he leaves the light switch off abolishing himself of guilt by closing his eyes to his deeds but I see it clearly. He reaches out his arms for me and those terrifying familiar words come from his mouth once more, "Shh, don't say a word."
Monday, November 28, 2005
Silver in the Moonlight
She lay on the bed. It was as I had always imagined it to be. The night was warm, a cool breeze blew in from the balcony door and the smell of the ocean wafted in from outside. She was small, so small compared to me and I could plainly see the fear in her eyes. I ran my fingers along her soft, white skin in an attempt to comfort her, but the fear remained. I couldn't understand her fear. This was what she had wanted; this was what she had worked so hard for.
I noticed her. I had always noticed her. Watching from the shadows, following at a distance, trying to eavesdrop on my conversations, even going so far as to learn my history. Occasionally we would swap words, but never anything of importance. She thought I paid no attention, but I listened in earnest to her every word, and yes, I listened in on her conversations as well. I could not allow my associates to think I cared for her, they never would have consented to us, but I'm certain they'll never know. I remember how excited she looked when I approached her and invited her in. She came so eager, so enticed, I couldn't be happier if I had dragged her in by her hair. I wasted no time. I led her straight to the bed and told her to lie down. So compliant. So innocent. So mine. She shivered when I tied her down, but did not protest. The anticipation was killing me, I longed to rush, but I knew I had to treasure every moment for it would not come again. I unsheathed my weapon. The sheer size of it alone was enough to terrify her, but I would not let that stop me. The moon shone in through the window and lit up the room. The knife in my hand reflected in its light and I saw her fear heighten as the moon turned her skin a pale ghostly colour. I took my knife and pressed it to her skin, the red liquid poured out onto my hands, turning silver in the moonlight. I penetrated every bit of flesh; there was no skin to be seen. Silver everywhere. I had heard her scream, but she went silent after the sixth or seventh blow. I stripped off and painted myself in the silver. I stood proud in the moonlight, the blood still wet upon my naked flesh.
A living work of art.
That was two years ago, it's been quite calm since then, but lately I've noticed you. You follow me, you watch me and now as I see you in the moonlight. Now it's time for some fun.
I noticed her. I had always noticed her. Watching from the shadows, following at a distance, trying to eavesdrop on my conversations, even going so far as to learn my history. Occasionally we would swap words, but never anything of importance. She thought I paid no attention, but I listened in earnest to her every word, and yes, I listened in on her conversations as well. I could not allow my associates to think I cared for her, they never would have consented to us, but I'm certain they'll never know. I remember how excited she looked when I approached her and invited her in. She came so eager, so enticed, I couldn't be happier if I had dragged her in by her hair. I wasted no time. I led her straight to the bed and told her to lie down. So compliant. So innocent. So mine. She shivered when I tied her down, but did not protest. The anticipation was killing me, I longed to rush, but I knew I had to treasure every moment for it would not come again. I unsheathed my weapon. The sheer size of it alone was enough to terrify her, but I would not let that stop me. The moon shone in through the window and lit up the room. The knife in my hand reflected in its light and I saw her fear heighten as the moon turned her skin a pale ghostly colour. I took my knife and pressed it to her skin, the red liquid poured out onto my hands, turning silver in the moonlight. I penetrated every bit of flesh; there was no skin to be seen. Silver everywhere. I had heard her scream, but she went silent after the sixth or seventh blow. I stripped off and painted myself in the silver. I stood proud in the moonlight, the blood still wet upon my naked flesh.
A living work of art.
That was two years ago, it's been quite calm since then, but lately I've noticed you. You follow me, you watch me and now as I see you in the moonlight. Now it's time for some fun.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
What happens at camp stays at camp!
Lets see, where to start...
Two hours after the road trip began I discovered I'd lost my house keys, they are probably sitting on the toilet floor of a McDonald's somewhere. After about 20 pit stops (why they can't eat in the car is beyond me, I managed it whilst driving) we got to the site.
It rained on the first night and my new $30 tent couldn't take it, consequently I woke up in a swimming pool. A possum broke into our food storage and ate all our bread, kangaroo excrement everywhere. We drove into town where I charged a small fortune to my credit card in the hope of water proofing my tent. Spent the rest of the day drying out my belongings and writing a few horror stories to tell round the campfire (My friends have never read my writings, I don't really know why they asked me to write anything considering I don't read horror let alone know how to write it).
The next day I got sunburnt, very, very sunburnt and may I just say OUCH. It rained again, only the base of my sleeping bag got wet, which wouldn't have been a problem except that we had to pack up our campsite in the pelting down rain (the slight cold I left home with has now grown into some sort of chest and viral infection, must go to the doctor after I've dried out the tent). On the way to my car to leave a tree branch decided to dig itself into my foot, which is now the size of a football. On the way back someone was most inconsiderate as to crash their vehicle/s causing the police to shut down the road, after waiting half an hour for the road to open, we decided to take the long mountain road. I get carsick as a passenger, not as a driver, but this road was worse than a roller coaster, I didn't throw up but boy did I have a head spin. I have two other wounds bleeding, not quite sure how they came about, my friends melted my picnic set, every single item in the set and they broke my new Jack Daniels chair.
I can't say I had a bad time, it just wasn't that great. I didn't get any painting done, but I can share with you one of the short yarns I wrote while I was down there.
The Creature
Night time was approaching. The creature watched the two young lovers carefully, never lowering its gaze for a second. It crouched hidden in the bushes, its claws digging into the ground in anticipation of what was to come. The couple moved closer to each other. The creatures breathing grew heavy, its tongue salivating with froth as it licked its hideous lips. It wanted to strike right away, the temptation was so great its claws had formed into fists and were clenched so tight that it had torn its own flesh.
The darkness set in as the couple started fondling each other. The creature's eyes grew wider and it started creeping forward, ever watchful of all around itself. The couple must have heard movement, they released each other and looked around. The creature froze, its eyes a piercing blood-red in the moonlight. The couple soon regained their false sense of security and continued their affections.
The creature sprung across the road and stopped directly under the chair the couple were occupying. It was so close now its heart was racing. If the couple were not so engaged with each other they would most certainly have heard the foul breathing of the loathsome creature that hid just below them. Its gruesome, ghastly claws reached forward toward the legs of the female occupant. It paused briefly then the creature lunged at its prey, allowing for no mercy, it ripped, and gouged, and dug in hard and deep.
The couple looked down, the male turning to his girl said, "Look, that filthy possum has eaten our bread."
Hope you liked it.
Two hours after the road trip began I discovered I'd lost my house keys, they are probably sitting on the toilet floor of a McDonald's somewhere. After about 20 pit stops (why they can't eat in the car is beyond me, I managed it whilst driving) we got to the site.
It rained on the first night and my new $30 tent couldn't take it, consequently I woke up in a swimming pool. A possum broke into our food storage and ate all our bread, kangaroo excrement everywhere. We drove into town where I charged a small fortune to my credit card in the hope of water proofing my tent. Spent the rest of the day drying out my belongings and writing a few horror stories to tell round the campfire (My friends have never read my writings, I don't really know why they asked me to write anything considering I don't read horror let alone know how to write it).
The next day I got sunburnt, very, very sunburnt and may I just say OUCH. It rained again, only the base of my sleeping bag got wet, which wouldn't have been a problem except that we had to pack up our campsite in the pelting down rain (the slight cold I left home with has now grown into some sort of chest and viral infection, must go to the doctor after I've dried out the tent). On the way to my car to leave a tree branch decided to dig itself into my foot, which is now the size of a football. On the way back someone was most inconsiderate as to crash their vehicle/s causing the police to shut down the road, after waiting half an hour for the road to open, we decided to take the long mountain road. I get carsick as a passenger, not as a driver, but this road was worse than a roller coaster, I didn't throw up but boy did I have a head spin. I have two other wounds bleeding, not quite sure how they came about, my friends melted my picnic set, every single item in the set and they broke my new Jack Daniels chair.
I can't say I had a bad time, it just wasn't that great. I didn't get any painting done, but I can share with you one of the short yarns I wrote while I was down there.
The Creature
Night time was approaching. The creature watched the two young lovers carefully, never lowering its gaze for a second. It crouched hidden in the bushes, its claws digging into the ground in anticipation of what was to come. The couple moved closer to each other. The creatures breathing grew heavy, its tongue salivating with froth as it licked its hideous lips. It wanted to strike right away, the temptation was so great its claws had formed into fists and were clenched so tight that it had torn its own flesh.
The darkness set in as the couple started fondling each other. The creature's eyes grew wider and it started creeping forward, ever watchful of all around itself. The couple must have heard movement, they released each other and looked around. The creature froze, its eyes a piercing blood-red in the moonlight. The couple soon regained their false sense of security and continued their affections.
The creature sprung across the road and stopped directly under the chair the couple were occupying. It was so close now its heart was racing. If the couple were not so engaged with each other they would most certainly have heard the foul breathing of the loathsome creature that hid just below them. Its gruesome, ghastly claws reached forward toward the legs of the female occupant. It paused briefly then the creature lunged at its prey, allowing for no mercy, it ripped, and gouged, and dug in hard and deep.
The couple looked down, the male turning to his girl said, "Look, that filthy possum has eaten our bread."
Hope you liked it.
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