It was his favorite song the DJ cranked to vibrate the very walls, and it was all he could do to make his way up the three flight on the spiral grand staircase, swimming was it was with equal amounts colorful balloons and innumerable people. The deafening throbbing of the base echoed up his hand on the ancient doorknob and through his entire body as he reluctantly shut to door that only slightly muffled the end of the dancing thrum of Daft Punk and onto the beginning of another familiar rhythm.
He grinned.
By the unforgettable base line..it had to be.. He could hear the chorus whisper through the wood..
People are strange...
He looked about the room he entered, and immediately regretted it. He smile faded, but did not die;"The Doors" had the music that always made him smile no matter what.
..when you're the stranger..
There, right across from him, was the open balcony. The decorative wrought iron did nothing to hide the view; the dizzying height, even from this distance, made him instinctively press his back against the wall. A slight breeze billowed the curtains towards him, almost as if they were welcoming arms.
..People get ugly...
He shook his head slightly, and swallowed his bile. Forced his eyes away from the beckoning threat before him.
..When you're alone..
Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
Friday, December 31, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
A Mission Inn story..
.as relayed by a good friend of mine told of a possible murder at the third level of the building.
I was trying to get him to go on a tour, and he was vehemently refusing, due to a grudge he has against the place.
This came as a surprise to me.
It involved a mutual friend I met a long time ago in high school, and I really should remember him-- but I don't. The guy apparently fell to his death from the third level, even though he was deathly afraid of heights. The police are said to claim he was on drugs, but my friend claims the tests showed he was clean. In high school, most all of the people I hung around were part of a "drug free" club, so I believe him.
Now, I find I'm looking at the third level, and at the various fancy balconies every time I wander by, and think about all the ways how it could have happened.
Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
I was trying to get him to go on a tour, and he was vehemently refusing, due to a grudge he has against the place.
This came as a surprise to me.
It involved a mutual friend I met a long time ago in high school, and I really should remember him-- but I don't. The guy apparently fell to his death from the third level, even though he was deathly afraid of heights. The police are said to claim he was on drugs, but my friend claims the tests showed he was clean. In high school, most all of the people I hung around were part of a "drug free" club, so I believe him.
Now, I find I'm looking at the third level, and at the various fancy balconies every time I wander by, and think about all the ways how it could have happened.
Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Completed drabble
Rosy dawn brightened the blue of the sky as she cracked her dark eyes open..
For the first time that she could recall, she eyed the massive, colorful domes with something like contentment. They were within easy view of the small broken alley she claimed as her own. The building beneath them was huge and looming: an ancient beast of solid structure somehow safely restrained behind numerous blocky adobe arches.
She watched the thing warily as she stretched, then shambled from the nest of shattered pipes and onto the cracked pavement that kissed the alley entrance. She allowed herself to enjoy the simple warmth of the sun gracing the soles of her bare feet, mind blissfully blank.
"Jaboozi!!"
She whirled about at the shrill high voice. She saw a single, tiny, chubby finger, attached to and equally tiny, chubby hand pointed in her direction. The lone child it belonged to looked at her wide-eyed in wonder, drool and spittle flowing down the chubby face unheeded.
"There you are.. " a woman rushed over and covered the child in a sweeping embrace. "Come on.. You scared mommy."
"Jaboozi..!" the child said again. The child's hand stretched out for a longing moment, then abruptly lowered as her bright eyes were instantly captured by something else.
"So sorry, I hope she didn't bother you...miss..?" The mother said dismissively while patting the child's back. Her pale orbs flicked her way, then fully focused on her, as if really seeing her for the first time. For that unmissed glance, those eyes were weighty with disgust.
'Jaboozi' fidgeted under the mother's scrutiny and straightened the ragged remains of her far-from-fine garments. The gaze disturbed her greatly, vaguely raising the notion that the mother and child had to be the mean ones that must always be avoided. She ducked her head low, absently pawing at the large dark stain upon her front as she turned abruptly about.
She found herself staring blankly at a large, whitewashed window, or rather the poster affixed to it. She could make out the boldest letters about the top, and read:
Riverside City Council Declares: Homeless Do Not Exist Within City Boundries.
She swallowed as she wrapped her arms about herself, and shuffled onward down the block with an aimless sort of purpose.
Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
For the first time that she could recall, she eyed the massive, colorful domes with something like contentment. They were within easy view of the small broken alley she claimed as her own. The building beneath them was huge and looming: an ancient beast of solid structure somehow safely restrained behind numerous blocky adobe arches.
She watched the thing warily as she stretched, then shambled from the nest of shattered pipes and onto the cracked pavement that kissed the alley entrance. She allowed herself to enjoy the simple warmth of the sun gracing the soles of her bare feet, mind blissfully blank.
"Jaboozi!!"
She whirled about at the shrill high voice. She saw a single, tiny, chubby finger, attached to and equally tiny, chubby hand pointed in her direction. The lone child it belonged to looked at her wide-eyed in wonder, drool and spittle flowing down the chubby face unheeded.
"There you are.. " a woman rushed over and covered the child in a sweeping embrace. "Come on.. You scared mommy."
"Jaboozi..!" the child said again. The child's hand stretched out for a longing moment, then abruptly lowered as her bright eyes were instantly captured by something else.
"So sorry, I hope she didn't bother you...miss..?" The mother said dismissively while patting the child's back. Her pale orbs flicked her way, then fully focused on her, as if really seeing her for the first time. For that unmissed glance, those eyes were weighty with disgust.
'Jaboozi' fidgeted under the mother's scrutiny and straightened the ragged remains of her far-from-fine garments. The gaze disturbed her greatly, vaguely raising the notion that the mother and child had to be the mean ones that must always be avoided. She ducked her head low, absently pawing at the large dark stain upon her front as she turned abruptly about.
She found herself staring blankly at a large, whitewashed window, or rather the poster affixed to it. She could make out the boldest letters about the top, and read:
Riverside City Council Declares: Homeless Do Not Exist Within City Boundries.
She swallowed as she wrapped her arms about herself, and shuffled onward down the block with an aimless sort of purpose.
Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Random Idea Generator..
I think writing, like art, is an essential daily discipline. It is also exceedingly hard to do within a vacuum.I am posting this resource for those times when the ideas seem particularly frozen within the brain. I still wonder if it has "zombies" in it, somewhere.
http://www.lifeformz.com/cgi-bin/idea/idea.fcgi
Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
http://www.lifeformz.com/cgi-bin/idea/idea.fcgi
Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
Improved character drabble..
It's a bit cleaner, and I think it has some story potential now..
ooooooo
Rosy dawn brightened the blue of the sky as she cracked her dark eyes open..
For the first time that she could recall, she eyed the massive, colorful domes with something like contentment. They were within easy view of the small broken alley she claimed as her own. The building beneath them was huge and looming: an ancient beast of solid structure somehow safely restrained behind numerous blocky adobe arches.
She watched the thing warily as she stretched, then shambled from the nest of shattered pipes and onto the cracked pavement that kissed the alley entrance. She allowed herself to enjoy the simple warmth of the sun gracing the soles of her bare feet, mind blissfully blank.
"Jaboozi!!"
She whirled about at the shrill high voice. She saw a single, tiny, chubby finger, attached to and equally tiny, chubby hand pointed in her direction. The lone child it belonged to looked at her wide-eyed in wonder, drool and spittle flowing down the chubby face unheeded.
"There you are.. " a woman rushed over and covered the child in a sweeping embrace. "Come on.. You scared mommy."
"Jaboozi..!" the child said again. The child's hand stretched out for a longing moment, then abruptly lowered as her bright eyes were instantly captured by something else.
"So sorry, I hope she didn't bother you...miss..?" The mother said dismissively while patting the child's back. Her pale orbs flicked her way, then fully focused on her, as if really seeing her for the first time. For that unmissed glance, those eyes were weighty with disgust.
'Jaboozi' fidgeted under the mother's scrutiny and straightened the ragged remains of her far-from-fine garments. The gaze disturbed her greatly, vaguely raising the notion that the mother and child had to be the mean ones that must always be avoided. She ducked her head low, absently pawing at the large dark stain upon her front as she turned abruptly about.
Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
ooooooo
Rosy dawn brightened the blue of the sky as she cracked her dark eyes open..
For the first time that she could recall, she eyed the massive, colorful domes with something like contentment. They were within easy view of the small broken alley she claimed as her own. The building beneath them was huge and looming: an ancient beast of solid structure somehow safely restrained behind numerous blocky adobe arches.
She watched the thing warily as she stretched, then shambled from the nest of shattered pipes and onto the cracked pavement that kissed the alley entrance. She allowed herself to enjoy the simple warmth of the sun gracing the soles of her bare feet, mind blissfully blank.
"Jaboozi!!"
She whirled about at the shrill high voice. She saw a single, tiny, chubby finger, attached to and equally tiny, chubby hand pointed in her direction. The lone child it belonged to looked at her wide-eyed in wonder, drool and spittle flowing down the chubby face unheeded.
"There you are.. " a woman rushed over and covered the child in a sweeping embrace. "Come on.. You scared mommy."
"Jaboozi..!" the child said again. The child's hand stretched out for a longing moment, then abruptly lowered as her bright eyes were instantly captured by something else.
"So sorry, I hope she didn't bother you...miss..?" The mother said dismissively while patting the child's back. Her pale orbs flicked her way, then fully focused on her, as if really seeing her for the first time. For that unmissed glance, those eyes were weighty with disgust.
'Jaboozi' fidgeted under the mother's scrutiny and straightened the ragged remains of her far-from-fine garments. The gaze disturbed her greatly, vaguely raising the notion that the mother and child had to be the mean ones that must always be avoided. She ducked her head low, absently pawing at the large dark stain upon her front as she turned abruptly about.
Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
Friday, December 17, 2010
Thoughts on Inlandia, Riverside Workshop
It was after I wrote this down that I realised that I have a reallly suspicious mind. I was not kind at all; however, I will let this little rant stand.
++++++++
Nothing tells you that you don't matter all that much quite like someone not bothering to remember your name.
I witnessed political meandering occurring at the christmas gathering today. Our host is obviously very well off, as the house was glorious to behold. So is the Indian doctor who happens to be a poet. There are several teachers. An ex-policewoman. The fact that such professions are present tell me her fawning over them is an obvious, though subtle, ongoing effort to garner donations for this project.
There are also few sycophants, and "exotics" as well, originally from the leader's classes I suppose. Unlike myself, they were introduced. I can't help but think perhaps the leader likes to collect such about herself to make her feel as though this venture is somehow a genuine one.
It is no wonder this leader can't seem to remember my name. I am neither rich, nor an exotic foreigner. I am certainly not a synchophant. I do not fit into any neat, plastic, category. I suppose that to her, I am not worth the effort to even see past her ridiculous obsession with keeping the California desert pristine.
Perhaps producing my own project like I originally planned is the best course of action after all. Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
++++++++
Nothing tells you that you don't matter all that much quite like someone not bothering to remember your name.
I witnessed political meandering occurring at the christmas gathering today. Our host is obviously very well off, as the house was glorious to behold. So is the Indian doctor who happens to be a poet. There are several teachers. An ex-policewoman. The fact that such professions are present tell me her fawning over them is an obvious, though subtle, ongoing effort to garner donations for this project.
There are also few sycophants, and "exotics" as well, originally from the leader's classes I suppose. Unlike myself, they were introduced. I can't help but think perhaps the leader likes to collect such about herself to make her feel as though this venture is somehow a genuine one.
It is no wonder this leader can't seem to remember my name. I am neither rich, nor an exotic foreigner. I am certainly not a synchophant. I do not fit into any neat, plastic, category. I suppose that to her, I am not worth the effort to even see past her ridiculous obsession with keeping the California desert pristine.
Perhaps producing my own project like I originally planned is the best course of action after all. Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
Friday, December 10, 2010
Inlandia workshop 120910
Final meeting for 2010, and I left early due to far too much time wasting on part of the project leader.
For those not in the know, she has this annoying habit of using the venue as a place to lecture about environmental issues of the Southern California desert, and very much has this political - religous slant she seems to expect everyone present to agree with. Added to that, she wished to, I don't know, "pound her own drums" as to just how damned important she was; I think it was because of some new visitors we had-- one of which was an editor for "the Mosaic", the literary publication of UCR.
Got on my nerves. Anyhow:
Prompt--
Write about a positive thing that happened to you in the past week
--
Artwalk. Getting back into my visual groove seeing all the mishmash crashed barrels of new possibilities, reminding me that back by my refrigerator is that damn unfinished twined skull painting, still looking at me.
Prompt--
She had twenty seven names for tears..
The number twenty seven, made up of two and seven, added together makes nine. To me that meant she was on the edge.. Just about to fall into some disaster if she was left to her own devices. So I kept her company, watching, cheering her.
Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
For those not in the know, she has this annoying habit of using the venue as a place to lecture about environmental issues of the Southern California desert, and very much has this political - religous slant she seems to expect everyone present to agree with. Added to that, she wished to, I don't know, "pound her own drums" as to just how damned important she was; I think it was because of some new visitors we had-- one of which was an editor for "the Mosaic", the literary publication of UCR.
Got on my nerves. Anyhow:
Prompt--
Write about a positive thing that happened to you in the past week
--
Artwalk. Getting back into my visual groove seeing all the mishmash crashed barrels of new possibilities, reminding me that back by my refrigerator is that damn unfinished twined skull painting, still looking at me.
Prompt--
She had twenty seven names for tears..
The number twenty seven, made up of two and seven, added together makes nine. To me that meant she was on the edge.. Just about to fall into some disaster if she was left to her own devices. So I kept her company, watching, cheering her.
Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)