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[22 Oct 2009|04:49am] |
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Two or three hours ago, I had an idea for a 100-word entry. I probably should have written it then, when I actually had the idea, but rather than doing something smart like that, I spent the intervening two or three hours devising a means of counting the words so as to ensure that whatever I wrote actually was 100 words. Now, here I am at nearly 5am with no clue what it was I had intended to write and, worse, finding my writer's block extended from my contest-writing work into my journal-writing. I wonder what I'd meant to write.
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| pep talk. |
[21 Oct 2009|11:56am] |
Along the street on the way to school/ work/ destination, you think of things you’d like to have said but didn’t. It occurs to you that other people are only mysterious because they are dishonest, you are dishonest; everybody makes omissions. You have come to realise, over the years, that as you move closer to death appearances become less important. You are more likely just to tell someone now, rather than keep it to yourself; knowing that they have probably experienced it too. And yet you walk on, not brave enough to be first: penetrate the albumen; you coward, you.
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[03 Jul 2009|07:22pm] |
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circles have always lead my way. what i keep forgetting is left along the way as reminders after the trap of one more lap has been sprung. they say there is something more around the bend, but it's just more of the same dressed in disguises to mislead my steps to the same end. sometimes this circle doesn't seem as bad, but those sometimes have alot to do with alcohol and sleep. even change is the same. i am always stuck at the beginning... or is this another ending? they've both come to look the same. time to begin again?
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| Simon - A Drabble |
[25 Nov 2008|08:43pm] |
Lately, I find myself wondering about people I could've been friends with.
There was this kid in school. Simon. His adoptive name. He was a war orphan – a little black boy in a classroom full of white ones. Only years later I found out some people have trouble with that.
Last time I saw him was at the library. “How've you been? It's been a while.” We said we'd keep in touch, but we never did. That's life, it gets in the way.
I like to think we could've been friends. He killed himself before I could ever find out.
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| Insomnia - A Drabble |
[25 Nov 2008|07:57pm] |
Insomnia.
The inability to sleep. I don't sleep.
I tell myself, it's nothing. I'm just not tired. Barely able to keep my eyes open, I'm just not tired.
I just don't want to sleep.
Because as soon as I'm lying there, I know I'll start thinking. About where to go. About what to do. About what I'm doing here. About life. About him.
I'm afraid to think. I don't want to think.
But it's not that. I'm just not tired. I just don't want to sleep.
I'm just tired. I just want to sleep.
But I don't sleep. I won't.
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| The Journey |
[23 Aug 2008|11:45am] |
He rode through the cold dry desert searching for the magical oasis. Tobias pulled his head covering tight around his face to protect it from the sandy wind. The dawn was about to break.
"We need to make camp," he told his four tired servants. "The dawn is near and we need to save our strength for the night."
Relieved, the servants unrolled their tents, drank from their water pouches, and began to make camp. This was the tenth day in their search for the magical oasis. The men were promised freedom and wealth should they discover it.
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| an apology |
[11 Apr 2008|01:41am] |
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Perhaps because I was secretly praying for an answer, or because I knew deep in my heart that our torrid love affair could not go on forever. For I would surely be the one to end up broken, more broken then I was, if that was even possible. You sucked out every ounce of love, passion, understanding, innocents and respect I had for myself. I was black eyed then, yellow faced and desperate for a change. There he came, walking right through my door. I had to say goodbye to you shortly after that, if I didn’t…id be dead by now
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[31 Mar 2008|12:21am] |
You all came in from the back, there we sat in the living room talking and laughing about who knows what. I was being of course the baby hog I am. He started to wail, that scream that only a baby can utter. I stood up, gave him a few bounces, three seconds of rocking and a nook. As quickly as he started to scream he was calm as a lamb. You all cooed at me as if I was super human
Particularly you, with that big eyed look. The kind that make me think some day I’ll be you wife.
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| my caterpillar |
[13 Jan 2008|12:39am] |
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Like Alice I tumbled down the shoot head over feet. Dress over my eyes, stockings showing, Maryjanes with silver buckles shining all the way down. It’s strange here. Where all sorts of strange things happen: creatures become friends, things that were once stood grandly are minuscule in comparison to my heart, and you never know what’s just round the corner. When I am asked to sip from the small potion bottle again, I will do so fearlessly. Here, there are only more shoots to tumble down and more magic to find in this place they call the land of love
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| Brave, New World |
[09 Jan 2008|09:27pm] |
The Earth became conscious in January 2006. It was not a quiet event, but as traumatic and bloody as any human birth. Historians estimated that over three quarters of the world's population was killed during the event.
The survivors eventually realized what had happened; the planet was aware now, its consciousness humming along lines of electromagnetic force. Some people didn't believe, but that changed the first time the Earth felt the need to shout.
Afterward, people said the new global consciousness was a good thing, and not just because critics had a tendency to get crushed by mysterious rockslides.
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| Unspoken, Spoken |
[01 Jan 2008|06:40pm] |
He watched impassively as Spike finished off the demon, lit a cigarette, and strolled out of the alley as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Even though he was certain he had not been seen, Angel was careful not to let his feelings show.
Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the familiar presence until it was right behind him. Startled by the unexpected arrival, at a loss for words, he froze.
“Hurt him and you’re dust.”
The trust in the harshly spoken words broke his paralysis.
“Buff-“
But he knew it was already too late, she was gone.
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| Red Sky in the Morning |
[29 Dec 2007|03:06pm] |
I dreamed of you last night. I was barefoot on the sidewalk; you walked by without stopping. But you looked once, looked twice, looked three times, searching my face to see if it was me. I pretended I didn’t care, didn’t notice. Your lip curled in a smile, sad, acknowledging. Years of memories stretched between us as we went our own ways. You disappeared in the distance; I wanted to follow, but didn’t.
I woke to a cold morning. I took your pictures down while making coffee. By the time my eggs finished boiling, all traces of you were gone.
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| Blame it on the Weather |
[28 Dec 2007|10:51pm] |
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A wind from the North is always exhausting, a dry heat blasting unimpeded from the deserts and aridlands of the Red Centre, dessicating, debilitating. A wind directly from the South is cold, and often brings rain, blowing towards us from Antarctica; it brings balance. The winds from the West and the East (South-west & South-east) promise energy, another type of balance.
And a thunderstorm will always vibrate through my veins as the wildest electric joy, a fierce and passionate energy like the wildest sex climbing towards orgasm, a ferocious crackling buzz I can barely contain, a rush upwards towards bliss.
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| welcome |
[28 Dec 2007|12:39am] |
I know new people have joined. It'd be nice if some of you posted... at least, if you feel like it. As it says, there's one rule: exactly 100 words. I'm fairly flexible on how you count, as long as I can figure out how a reasonable person might interpret your post to have 100 words (even if M$ Word doesn't think it's 100 words).
If you feel like writing a promotional post and posting it to ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif) asylum_promo, that'd be great (having the promo in the 100-word format is a nice touch, especially if you mention it in the post).
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| well, exactly 100_words once i added the line about x-posting... |
[28 Dec 2007|12:21am] |
x-posted from ideas because it’s exactly 100_words
following the earlier post here and the well-commented post to asylum_promo and being a long-time IJer, i'd like to suggest making asylum_promo fully moderated with a significant number of moderators to facilitate quick approval. further, i'd suggest explicitly stating max 1 promo of a given asylum per week and any post longer than ~10 lines, promoting more than ~3 asylums, or containing *any* images goes behind a cut.
edit: of course, please discuss the specifics of the restrictions in the comments, as people have already begun to do--my choices were somewhat arbitrary.
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| bedtime |
[09 Aug 2007|12:37am] |
You’re having one of those days—it doesn’t matter why.
Remember to breathe.
You don’t want to go to sleep now, but since you’ll still feel that way in an hour, you might as well try to sleep now anyway. Sleeping on the floor isn’t as stupid as you’re starting to think it is. Maybe it’s stupid to be sleeping on the floor and not have cleared enough space for a proper twin-size air mattress, but you can deal with that tomorrow.
And if you keep putting things off like that, you’ll never actually do them.
Are you remembering to breathe?
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| strange evening |
[08 Aug 2007|06:03pm] |
Schedule your date as late as possible since you work late. Unfortunately, as late as possible isn’t really that late, but you should be able to make it from work. Decide to take off early at work. That way, you don’t have to rush and you’ll have time to have a snack and brush your teeth.
When you get home from work, take off your pants so they might unwrinkle a little. Find something in the freezer that won’t upset your stomach and won’t smell bad. Eat your snack, surf the net, and post to IJ. Don’t be late now…
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[27 Jul 2007|11:52am] |
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Hello, I’m new to this community and I joined because I’m currently addicted to writing drabbles of a hundred words, which is kind of weird, because at the same time that I’m completely addicted, I’m also going through Major Writer’s Block. Which isn’t good and not much fun. I am a bit annoyed about how Microsoft Word counts words, though, because I can write-like-this and the last three words will be counted as one (so that’s how I count them, because I’m too lazy to count them myself) but I kind of know that they’re really three and not one...
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[08 Jul 2007|01:58pm] |
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mood |
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gloomy |
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music |
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boy sets fire... my life in the knife trade... |
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I can hear you through the floorboards; singing to me about the death of all things, about better than nothing, about the reality of my loneliness, and how there's no changing things now. This course is home. I missed my mark by miles, now there's no going back.
Tomorrow will never bring the kind of hope I need. It’s over far too soon for anything to set in. the names change, but everything else is the same. Life is on repeat, the cycles always ending… never beginning.
The sun never rises; it only sets.
The end is only the end.
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| Tell me you want me... and I'm yours |
[18 Jun 2007|12:23pm] |
Sitting in darkness
watching the night
waiting for stars to fall
he sleeps peaceful, oblivious
of silent tears falling
I know he loves me still, that he's protecting himself
He knows that I love him; I was just afraid and stupid
He punishes me in small but un-subtle ways
To assuage his ego, to calm his hurts, I pretend not to know
Quietly, obediently, I do all he asks
as I search for the answer he won't give
“How do I prove myself to you?”
I'm here because I want to be
and I'm not going away again
His.
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