Team Avatar Posted July 9, 2014 Share Posted July 9, 2014 I was poking through some old files on my computer and found some stuff I've written about in the lows of my life // for school, and thought to share. share stuff you've written! anyways here is something i wrote on a 4/20 like 2 years ago. I haven't written in months. Is it an absence of words? Maybe just the lack of anything remotely substantial happening in my life. Or maybe I've been content. We write when we're lost, alone, sad, angry, confused; but happy? How many 'artists' have provided quality work at times of happiness? I wanted to write a song but I'm just writing what comes to my mind. Someone right now, is having a horrible evening. It's 4/20 and he just got busted. He's a big time dealer. Now what? He might get kicked out of school for selling pot. I'm sure the cops have smoked before. So I'm sitting here all smug and content and extremely fucking lonely, but whatever. Life moves on. Or does it? I've been here before, pen in hand, just writing. I've been alone and afraid. My hand hurts, but I've barely written a page. It's kind of pathetic. I'm no writer though, just a lost soul. How cliche. What about the kid whose life is temporarily fucked up? Should we pray for him? He knew what he was getting into. I wish I did, but I submitted myself to this. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
noalarmplanet Posted July 9, 2014 Share Posted July 9, 2014 I write short stories. Here are a few: http://noalarmplanet.com/2007/01/23/untitledj182gmail-com/ http://noalarmplanet.com/2008/01/23/the-heart-string-my-bloodiest-valentine/ Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dawhizz Posted July 9, 2014 Share Posted July 9, 2014 I just wrote this sentence. deafening, Satan and aflycon 3 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aych Posted July 11, 2014 Share Posted July 11, 2014 I wrote this three weeks ago. Air Conditioning Sometimes I have trouble sleeping. I live in a rental house. Built in 1940, renovated once, maybe twice, 15 or 20 years ago. Nothing in the house matches: the walls are all painted a different color, from the two shades of gray and two shades of blue in the living room, to the eggshell white and brilliant vermilion in the kitchen, which don’t exactly compliment the emerald hue of the hilariously fake green “marble” counter tops, but some stipulations prevent me from doing anything about it. The appliances vary in brand and color, from the dishwasher, to the stove, to the ceiling fans that make me duck in cover with every creak and click. My room - I think it’s technically considered the Master Suite - is the only room in the house where all four walls are the same shade of apartment off-white, the true neutral of neutral tones, suggesting neither a safe haven nor a place to cut loose; simply put, it’s just a room. The fireplace, once used to spread warmth through the bodies and beds of the previous tenants, is sealed shut with unpainted particleboard; the only part of it not rendered useless is the mantle, which I use as a shelf for countless knickknacks, each with their own unique dust collections. Without a doubt, however, my favorite feature of my safe haven is the air conditioning unit, which sits mere feet from the window under which I sleep and hums throughout the night as it sees fit. To most people, it’s a burden; its constant action deprives them of restful thinking, afternoon naps and REM cycles. For me, when the thermostat in the living room alerts the A/C that it’s time to get to work, and resumes its mechanical moaning, I am brought back to summer afternoons in past homes, pureeing twigs and berries in the Carrier in the backyard; I am brought back to tired nights in cheap hotel rooms, the scent of artificial comfort rising from the sheets and wafting through the room with the help of the futuristic floor unit that never quite knows the difference between comfortable and cryogenic freezing, but being with the people I love made it all the more enjoyable; I am brought back to good times and great memories, and as I drift off, alone in bed the same as I have been for the last twenty years, the endearing, industrial tune and the chilled drafts set my heavy eyelids down and seal them shut with a fabricated kiss. Still humming, still flowing. And then I fall asleep. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Satan Posted July 11, 2014 Share Posted July 11, 2014 When I was little I wrote a poem about a dog who lived in the fog. It was a great poem. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
blanchardoswald Posted July 21, 2014 Share Posted July 21, 2014 I'm working on a story for the CBC Short Story contest. Here's what I've written so far: "I'm a product of Main, a convention of Hastings. My story is as monotonous as Prufrock, as classic as Milton, and it would grace the ears of those graceful ears that would hear me speak it. I speak from my bed, and I swallow humility to fill my chiming cup. I inject myself and present my pleasant self so I can talk to passing strangers from my bed. "One. Two. Three. "My mother was a founding father, an entrepreneur, a victim. She was no less Canadian than you when she warmed New Denver beds beside her interned parents, who with nothing but a soiled daughter and no soil to live on, had decided to move away from the worst country in the world following the war. To them, mom was a Canadian relic, an epitome of a this nation's great tragedy. She was no longer welcome, but unlike her ungrateful parents, she was Canadian. And so East Vancouver became home, and loneliness became a rhythm. "One. Two. Three. "But Mom was an innovator, a creator, and she didn't like being lonely. For her, loneliness was reserved death, or a widow, and she didn't believe in death yet. And so she found comfort in heroin, her nights filled with the pleasantries of injection. What a world she had found! But happiness was expensive, and she needed to pay for it. Her body, already enjoyed by bored guards and the lonely interred, was like hitting on 20 and getting drawing an ace. "Of course, her solution was fantastic. She made enough for a little bit of food and even more happiness, and gave up nothing in return. Though, sometimes she had bad days at work, and that's how I was born. My father found thirty second of joy in Mom, but she was pretty, and expensive. I know I get my smarts from him, because he figured out a perfect solution, and he raised his fist as he finished. And "One. Two. Three. "I was born for free." Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dkrtz Posted July 21, 2014 Share Posted July 21, 2014 I wrote this three weeks ago. Air Conditioning Sometimes I have trouble sleeping. I live in a rental house. Built in 1940, renovated once, maybe twice, 15 or 20 years ago. Nothing in the house matches: the walls are all painted a different color, from the two shades of gray and two shades of blue in the living room, to the eggshell white and brilliant vermilion in the kitchen, which don’t exactly compliment the emerald hue of the hilariously fake green “marble” counter tops, but some stipulations prevent me from doing anything about it. The appliances vary in brand and color, from the dishwasher, to the stove, to the ceiling fans that make me duck in cover with every creak and click. My room - I think it’s technically considered the Master Suite - is the only room in the house where all four walls are the same shade of apartment off-white, the true neutral of neutral tones, suggesting neither a safe haven nor a place to cut loose; simply put, it’s just a room. The fireplace, once used to spread warmth through the bodies and beds of the previous tenants, is sealed shut with unpainted particleboard; the only part of it not rendered useless is the mantle, which I use as a shelf for countless knickknacks, each with their own unique dust collections. Without a doubt, however, my favorite feature of my safe haven is the air conditioning unit, which sits mere feet from the window under which I sleep and hums throughout the night as it sees fit. To most people, it’s a burden; its constant action deprives them of restful thinking, afternoon naps and REM cycles. For me, when the thermostat in the living room alerts the A/C that it’s time to get to work, and resumes its mechanical moaning, I am brought back to summer afternoons in past homes, pureeing twigs and berries in the Carrier in the backyard; I am brought back to tired nights in cheap hotel rooms, the scent of artificial comfort rising from the sheets and wafting through the room with the help of the futuristic floor unit that never quite knows the difference between comfortable and cryogenic freezing, but being with the people I love made it all the more enjoyable; I am brought back to good times and great memories, and as I drift off, alone in bed the same as I have been for the last twenty years, the endearing, industrial tune and the chilled drafts set my heavy eyelids down and seal them shut with a fabricated kiss. Still humming, still flowing. And then I fall asleep. I really enjoyed this. For THRhe past nine years I haven't been able to sleep without the ambient whirr of the bedside fan next to my face. So it spoke to me lol Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Posted July 21, 2014 Share Posted July 21, 2014 http://www.altpress.com/features/entry/weekly_playlist_41_songs_about_pizza LOL I was trying to google lyrics for Pizza Party to cut/paste because im lazy and found this gem! thanks SH for the shoutout for pizza! gunna order a lot of pizza and invite all of our friends were gunna have such good times I hope the fun will never end pizza pizza pizza pizza party! and when the clock strikes ten our guests will have to leave I hope they had a blast and didnt catch a disease! pizza pizza pizza pizza party! gunna have a pizza party! gunna have a fucking pizza! gunna have a pizza party toniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight cowabunga! smoke on that. I also just found a 5 minute storyline that we shot leading up to the pizza party video, its so bad/so awesome. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Join the conversation
You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.