January 2012
5 posts
4 tags
The War of the Weirdos
I wrote this when 1993 was the future (which means I was likely anywhere between 8 to 10 years old at the time of its creation). Everything below is exactly as I typed it then, spelling mistakes, etc., all intact.
Well, I’m going to tell you an adventure that happened in 1993. Justin, my friend, and I called it “The War of the Weirdos”. Thats what I’m going telling you about. It happened...
1 tag
We Walk to the River and We Sit: Part V
(Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV)
“Oh I don’t know. Paint a picture, read a book, travel, meet people. No, god, those are so generic. I want to stand at the base of the ocean at sunrise, feel my feet sink into the sand as the morning warmth hits me. I want to look into space and know the names of all the constellations. I want to reach into history and know why they’re important. And I do want...
December 2011
10 posts
emikaninja:
Hej people, a little improv recording iPhone stylee to say Happy Christmas and happy new year!
hugs
Emika
1 tag
&c 12 (BtDCS miscellany)
“I dream of metal and water and red that flows from my arms and legs. It smells like iron and soap. A breeze blows through, calling me. I see myself as myself, weightless, without hope. I don’t close my eyes. I want to see the devastation this hand will create. I want to see flesh open and separate, blood vessels exposed, crying for life as they are extinguished, left dried and wanting. Does...
1 tag
&c 11 (The Somnambulist miscellany)
“Standing here, I am somewhat tired, but mostly delirious…or tired…or delirious, but probably tired. I can feel the cold tiles beneath my feet. Feel the dust and grime lodged within the cracks that has formed over years of neglect. There is moving air here. It is somewhat cold, but mostly refreshing. I must have left the window open again. A window in a bathroom. It is...
1 tag
&c 10 (The Somnambulist miscellany)
“He stands and begins to walk away, wondering what he did with the man’s eye, wondering why he still wonders.”
1 tag
We Walk to the River and We Sit: Part IV
(Part I, Part II, Part III)
“Yeah, yeah, fine. Scatterbrained. I’ll take it.”
“See!” “What?” “Even then you were thinking about something else, weren’t you?” “When?” “In that fit of laughter I saw you stop for a moment, staring at the sky, smiling.” “Did I? Guilty as charged then, I guess.” “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily! What was it? What made you stop?” “What...
November 2011
3 posts
&c 9 (tHtOHB miscellany)
He made no motion to cover his ears, to flinch or avert his senses from it. He only stared, enraptured by it, slowly becoming encased in it. The squeal cut through his skin, his blood, plasma, bile, acid—searching out the emptiness that it knew was contained within his vast cavity. It gripped his heart, not causing it to stop, but to beat beat beat harder against his chest, banging, thrashing his...
October 2011
4 posts
1 tag
&c 8 (tHtOHB miscellany)
And this is where the external word takes its toll on the structure of everything. It does not take long, although his circumvention of destiny will: let us time it … start. ing. NOW!
Explosions! [of the choreographed sort]
Fanfare! [a clarion, a trumpet, a flag, and a stool. Kill the beast! Slay the dragon!]
Monsters&aliens&zombies! [come pouring out of the pinhole of our...
Dancing Plague of 1518 →
minusbaby:
This is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever read.
September 2011
3 posts
3 tags
6 tags
minusbaby:
“Válgame 2 (Extraño)” by minusbaby
DOWNLOAD http://freemusicarchive.org/music/minusbaby/minusbaby_-_Singles_1233/minusbaby-valgame_2_extrano
whoa
1 tag
We Walk to the River and We Sit: Part III
(Part I, Part II) No, it’s fine. It is. It’s nice to talk to someone who’s still passionate about life. I feel like I don’t encounter that very much anymore.” “How do you mean?” “Well, you know how it is here. People get stuck in their routines so easily. I wasn’t immune to that either. I think that after we—after you left, I really wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t have immediate plans to...
August 2011
7 posts
1 tag
&c 7 (tHtOHB miscellany)
Memory fades&dissolves between:::
The heartofmysoul delivers—before me falls my feet—my stars&eyes; my heart my heart my—
Why do you call upon me like so?—
—Michael, Michael, wherefore art thou Michael?
Hahaha! I cry back
—Michael, do not deceive thyself! I will not call upon you if you do not hear my heart breaking for you—my aching bleeding/fucking/bleeding heart—pieces of my heart upon...
1 tag
&c 6 (tHtOHB miscellany)
…like an orange coal of sulpher & hailfire. She! Her! My emptiness rings true like the tone of a thousand flames that are the hosts of theaven? theoven? theraven? Ask not from where I spring! Ask not my name, for I will not tell you. It is the sound of allofitputtogetherintoastringofyesesandnoses! You want the Tetragrammaton? I will give you the Infinitagrammaton! I am I! I am my Name! I am—
1 tag
We Walk to the River and We Sit: Part II
(Part I) “So what have you been up to for the last ten years?” she says, “I know, I know, that’s a lot to summarize. Give me the highlights.”
“Oh god…um…well, went to school—it was fine—graduated, got a job shortly after, loved it, hated it, am okay with it now. I moved several times, narrowed down my list of close friends to five people, went through multiple...
1 tag
We Walk to the River and We Sit: Part I
The sun is setting over the horizon of trees across the river. The water is cold on my feet, dangled off this dock as I sway them back and forth. Orange and red and a faint purple. The breeze is nice. No mosquitoes anymore—late enough in the season. Long sleeve weather. This place—this place had been so damn magical that night—the two of us hand in hand, eating candy and naming...
July 2011
5 posts
1 tag
tHtOHB:V3 PI
It was all empty…a clear, malleable, plastic-like nothingness that somehow stretched its nonexistent tendrils around every molecule that dare parade itself before it. Despite what wasn’t there, he couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t make the shape of things. All blurry. Colors dulled. Uniform. Monotone. He couldn’t make his eyes strain. He tried, once, forcing the...
1 tag
&c 5 (tHtOHB miscellany)
Yes, quickly, move on: there is too much, too much: history, nights of handheld walking from The Place and back for lung-stabbing pains and the moments of romantic vomit upon the well-seasoned air, yes God yes—she beat into my back yes God yes in looping palindromic exuberance! It is for me and I am for it. Inspiration o muse you shapeshifting goddess. Tar and paper and porcelain, bountiful...
1 tag
&c 4 (tHtOHB miscellany)
The giants sweep underfoot—one, two, three, four,fivesix—ohIcan’tcountfastenough!
But here they come! Here they come! One by one! Desperately. Kicking up dirt onto my shoes that are now glowing blue. Blue? But my shoes always glow blue. They do? That they do, my boy—that they do…
Here I am. I am here. You cannot stop me because I am here. I have been here before. I have been here so many times,...
June 2011
6 posts
Permutation 5 of 5
It’s my job to know this pattern (and many others) by heart; it’s my favorite part. Although if I were really using this, I’d arrange this into 24 Latin Squares so that every piece is seen in every position for every five instances. It’s so pretty!
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Permutations
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&c End
This is the last thing I wrote before quitting my book. Reading it now makes me want to finish it and then start over, completely rewrite the 51,000 words with new words and then expand it into what I always intended it to be. Motivation. Have at thee!
So. I am here, here at last, at the last point before Something Big And Ambiguously Monumental Will Happen To Everyone, Which Means Me. And...
1 tag
Before the Dust Can Settle
I open my eyes and the world is golden brown, waving slowly back and forth, kissing my neck with its warmth. High above—blue, all blue save for the shining orb at my back. My eyes lose their focus at the sight of the undulating grain. I shift my feet, kicking up dirt and rocks and worms. I breathe. And then I kneel, put my hands in the dirt, and strain to feel the vibrations, hoping, maybe,...
May 2011
4 posts
1 tag
Before the Dust Can Settle: PIII
(Part 1, Part 2) “As I stated in my letter of withdrawal…” She opens her eyes and feels the weight of everything press in and overwhelm her system and she allows it to sit there until she thinks she will burst and exhales. He looks at her. She closes her eyes and forgets how to breathe. Rhythms failing. Patterns are now chaos. Everything breaks apart at the epicenter. Here, in this...
April 2011
3 posts
1 tag
Before the Dust Can Settle: PII
(Part I)
I raise my head and see the beast arc across the sky, wings slicing the air, a toxic plume flowing from within it. I close my eyes and run to its origin, arms out front, waving, guiding me through the stalks. Arm, arm, leg, face, arm, foot, the last impact sends me to the ground. Scrapes and bruises, scrapes and bruises. This is nothing. This is nothing. Quick, while the point of...
1 tag
Before the Dust Can Settle: PI
I open my eyes and the world is golden brown, waving slowly back and forth, kissing my neck with its warmth. High above—blue, all blue save for the shining orb at my back. My eyes lose their focus at the sight of the undulating grain. I shift my feet, kicking up dirt and rocks and worms. I breathe. And then I kneel, put my hands in the dirt, and strain to feel the vibrations, hoping, maybe,...