Cold. Warm. Wet.
Nothing feels right; nothing feels alive. The world faces challenge after challenge, living off the ground.
What if I died? what if im born? what if im a dream?
What if it doesn't matter?
"I could see myself dying in their minds."
What if I die in my own mind, and nobody seems to notice? Because how could you
How could you notice someone dying in their minds?
Happiness.
Living. That sort of livin. The one where you say "you achieved it all".
Words. Words mean so much to me. Words mean less to them.
A guy. Two guys. A guy that matters, a guy I'll never meet or get or realize. All a turmoil of a dream.
Everything is lost.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Orientation Gone Wrong
Whatever the hell THAT's suppose to mean. Sometimes thinking before typing seems hard.
You know, the 5 stages of grief/depression whatever seem to be like fucking 5 million. I think i've been having it under control for the last two days but there are brief moments when everything just erupts inside of me and I feel the urge to...analyze. Analyze death, life, time. All the philosphical bullshit that ends up in more bullshit, and then I just think of reasons to be unhappy and the reasons lack...well, reason, sometimes. They're just excuses or 'rocks' to further sink me down the lake of thoughts.
I've, the last year, always slept with my head filled with buzzing and flying thoughts and ideas that don't shut up, but they've been manageable. I guess the loss was harder for me to deal with then I thought it would be.
You always think you're so strong, and then it hits ya; you're only human.
Adios fair bloggito, another shining day to you.
You know, the 5 stages of grief/depression whatever seem to be like fucking 5 million. I think i've been having it under control for the last two days but there are brief moments when everything just erupts inside of me and I feel the urge to...analyze. Analyze death, life, time. All the philosphical bullshit that ends up in more bullshit, and then I just think of reasons to be unhappy and the reasons lack...well, reason, sometimes. They're just excuses or 'rocks' to further sink me down the lake of thoughts.
I've, the last year, always slept with my head filled with buzzing and flying thoughts and ideas that don't shut up, but they've been manageable. I guess the loss was harder for me to deal with then I thought it would be.
You always think you're so strong, and then it hits ya; you're only human.
Adios fair bloggito, another shining day to you.
A Lesson In Pity - Screenplay - Scene 1
Shaiera/Shayera, Diana, Kara, Hera/Hathor
[Setting: Coffee shop, in a corner table]
Shaiera: You'd think after what we pass through, we wouldn't have to pass through other shit.
Diana: Tell me about it. I live my life not knowing when the final moment comes, and I bloody well ignore the quiet ticking of the clock of life that follows me, only to have people remind it to me. Even if you fuckin play around with the letters in my name you get that shit-assed word, AIDS.
Hathor: Actually, you get AID, and I think you do enough AIDin to all men around....
Diana: Fuck off. Just because I ain't a married woman with a Jesus and a cross stuck her ass doesn't mean I can't have fun.
Kara: Maybe you guys are taking this the wrong way.
Shaiera: Enlighten us mortals, Kara.
Kara: Think about it. We're young gorgeous women in a society controlled and doomed by horny men. We're victims of numerous diseases that causes pity in any human being's eyes.
Diana: I'm gonna clap now. Bravo, fucking bravo, Kara. I feel great that Im at the bottom of the foodchain. I'm so deep in patheticness that above me I see puppies with limps.
Kara: You missed the point. We're the weak spot. Our diseases cause pity, which we don't want, because we don't want anything in exchange.
Hathor: Told you we should have send her to the luny place.
Shaiera: No, she makes sense. Pity is used to GET things. Think about it. What's more pitiful? A kid or a middle-aged man? Duh, the kid - and the recently-uterus-free creature knows it and takes advantage of it. You're more likely giving it money then anythin.
Hathor: Doesn't really explain how it benefits us.
Kara: Look, we have -
Shiera: (interrupts) How bout I demonstarte? That way we can also know if it works. Like a social experiment. [Stands up from table, picks up bag and walks over coffee contour] Excuse me, can I have an espersso with two sugar?
Coffee guy: Sure. That would be $10.
Shiera: Yes. [rummages through bag, and 'accidently' drops it] I'm so clumsy... [is mid-way kneeling when wig drops] oh..oh...damn..fuck..this happend every since I got this bag of hair...no..no..need to worry... [starts sobbin and then crying] I...I am sorry..it's just...this wig....cancer..and..i...[cries harder]
Coffee guy: [agitaged] ms, ms, it's alright. it's fine. coffees on the house. it's okay. it's alright.
Shiera: [sniffing and standing up] really? because i could -
Coffe guy: it's fine, its okay. just take it.
[Setting: Coffee shop, in a corner table]
Shaiera: You'd think after what we pass through, we wouldn't have to pass through other shit.
Diana: Tell me about it. I live my life not knowing when the final moment comes, and I bloody well ignore the quiet ticking of the clock of life that follows me, only to have people remind it to me. Even if you fuckin play around with the letters in my name you get that shit-assed word, AIDS.
Hathor: Actually, you get AID, and I think you do enough AIDin to all men around....
Diana: Fuck off. Just because I ain't a married woman with a Jesus and a cross stuck her ass doesn't mean I can't have fun.
Kara: Maybe you guys are taking this the wrong way.
Shaiera: Enlighten us mortals, Kara.
Kara: Think about it. We're young gorgeous women in a society controlled and doomed by horny men. We're victims of numerous diseases that causes pity in any human being's eyes.
Diana: I'm gonna clap now. Bravo, fucking bravo, Kara. I feel great that Im at the bottom of the foodchain. I'm so deep in patheticness that above me I see puppies with limps.
Kara: You missed the point. We're the weak spot. Our diseases cause pity, which we don't want, because we don't want anything in exchange.
Hathor: Told you we should have send her to the luny place.
Shaiera: No, she makes sense. Pity is used to GET things. Think about it. What's more pitiful? A kid or a middle-aged man? Duh, the kid - and the recently-uterus-free creature knows it and takes advantage of it. You're more likely giving it money then anythin.
Hathor: Doesn't really explain how it benefits us.
Kara: Look, we have -
Shiera: (interrupts) How bout I demonstarte? That way we can also know if it works. Like a social experiment. [Stands up from table, picks up bag and walks over coffee contour] Excuse me, can I have an espersso with two sugar?
Coffee guy: Sure. That would be $10.
Shiera: Yes. [rummages through bag, and 'accidently' drops it] I'm so clumsy... [is mid-way kneeling when wig drops] oh..oh...damn..fuck..this happend every since I got this bag of hair...no..no..need to worry... [starts sobbin and then crying] I...I am sorry..it's just...this wig....cancer..and..i...[cries harder]
Coffee guy: [agitaged] ms, ms, it's alright. it's fine. coffees on the house. it's okay. it's alright.
Shiera: [sniffing and standing up] really? because i could -
Coffe guy: it's fine, its okay. just take it.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Chapter 1: A Story That Has No Story
I could start with saying a thousand things. I could start by delivering a line so enticing, so intriguing that it will prolong your curiousity to the point of you reading further along. I won't do that.
Not because of the sudden urge to expose my different and pecuilar thoughts, but because my story speaks for itself. Introductions are only an alluring passage as to attarct a reader's eye; Which is why certain books are guranteed immediate failure. An introduction should speak to the heart, not eye. An eye can only see so much. Engage yourself into a story that isn't different from all the rest, that isn't even written in a way that couldn't be written better; it's just a story that you will later gloat you read, to discuss, and forget.
---------
Her appreance send shivers through nurses, and even the doctors themselves couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. It wasn't that her looks were horrendous; quite the opposite, she was heaven's earthly figure.
Her hair was a stream of flowing halo that pours down her shoulders, covering her delicate skin. Skin so tightly covered over bones, you would think it was hugging it. A close hug, a deathly hug. If it tightens anymore, you cold say the skin would become her bones. The fingertips moved into slowly cautious movement, as if afraid to reveal their identity. Her body spoke with such precautious manner; her body spoke of years of fright and hiding. She would crawl, and would almost seem child-like if it weren't for her piercing eyes. They seem to send you into the crossbeam of hell, passing by all tormented souls that scream in agony for everything they lost and everything they will never have again. They scream in such pain,that you could feel the waves of hollow echoes pass through your body. You then realize it's nothing more then an illusion, nothing more then a pair of eyes. Yet the journey was over, and you will never forget it.
Alicia smiled softly, although on her fragile face it seemed painful. Puny humans, she thought, amusing herself by glaring at a male-nurse.
-----
Not because of the sudden urge to expose my different and pecuilar thoughts, but because my story speaks for itself. Introductions are only an alluring passage as to attarct a reader's eye; Which is why certain books are guranteed immediate failure. An introduction should speak to the heart, not eye. An eye can only see so much. Engage yourself into a story that isn't different from all the rest, that isn't even written in a way that couldn't be written better; it's just a story that you will later gloat you read, to discuss, and forget.
---------
Her appreance send shivers through nurses, and even the doctors themselves couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. It wasn't that her looks were horrendous; quite the opposite, she was heaven's earthly figure.
Her hair was a stream of flowing halo that pours down her shoulders, covering her delicate skin. Skin so tightly covered over bones, you would think it was hugging it. A close hug, a deathly hug. If it tightens anymore, you cold say the skin would become her bones. The fingertips moved into slowly cautious movement, as if afraid to reveal their identity. Her body spoke with such precautious manner; her body spoke of years of fright and hiding. She would crawl, and would almost seem child-like if it weren't for her piercing eyes. They seem to send you into the crossbeam of hell, passing by all tormented souls that scream in agony for everything they lost and everything they will never have again. They scream in such pain,that you could feel the waves of hollow echoes pass through your body. You then realize it's nothing more then an illusion, nothing more then a pair of eyes. Yet the journey was over, and you will never forget it.
Alicia smiled softly, although on her fragile face it seemed painful. Puny humans, she thought, amusing herself by glaring at a male-nurse.
-----
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