Ten thousand faceless people walking by,
A thousand faceless people say goodbye,
A hundred faceless people start to cry,
A solitary person, wondering why.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Being trapped,
Butterfly,
confinement,
Confusion,
Despair,
Flying,
Free,
frustration,
Joy,
Restriction,
Soaring,
Struggle,
Wings
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Cocoon
I started writing this also during the winter or 2010. It was an attempt to describe the feelings of being trapped that I was feeling.
In a
cocoon,
I am safe,
I am warm.
Secure. I'm sleeping,
changing,
growing,
waiting.
Knowing
My time is not yet.
Still in my
cocoon.
I'm eager,
and anxious.
Still waiting
Still growing.
I want to
leave,
be free.
When can I
Go?
Stuck in this
cocoon.
I am
restricted.
Confusion,
frustration.
Struggle.
Trying,
failing.
Despair.
Will I ever
Be free?
If my time is not yet,
then when can I go?
If I'm not ready now...
How will I know
When I'm ready to fly?
I close my eyes,
unwilling to see
The darkness so thick
That's all around me.
I dream of my wings.
In my
cocoon.
Pushing,
fighting.
It's different
this time.
Courage,
strength,
power.
Is it finally
my time?
With one final push
I emerge from my shell
and I sat on a branch.
The wind blew, and I fell.
I didn't want this.
Not in my
cocoon.
Falling,
despairing.
Resistance.
Confusion.
Wings!
Flutter,
ascending.
Soaring.
I am free.
In a
cocoon,
I am safe,
I am warm.
Secure. I'm sleeping,
changing,
growing,
waiting.
Knowing
My time is not yet.
Still in my
cocoon.
I'm eager,
and anxious.
Still waiting
Still growing.
I want to
leave,
be free.
When can I
Go?
Stuck in this
cocoon.
I am
restricted.
Confusion,
frustration.
Struggle.
Trying,
failing.
Despair.
Will I ever
Be free?
If my time is not yet,
then when can I go?
If I'm not ready now...
How will I know
When I'm ready to fly?
I close my eyes,
unwilling to see
The darkness so thick
That's all around me.
I dream of my wings.
In my
cocoon.
Pushing,
fighting.
It's different
this time.
Courage,
strength,
power.
Is it finally
my time?
With one final push
I emerge from my shell
and I sat on a branch.
The wind blew, and I fell.
I didn't want this.
Not in my
cocoon.
Falling,
despairing.
Resistance.
Confusion.
Wings!
Flutter,
ascending.
Soaring.
I am free.
Ah, my old neglected blog which I once was so enthusiastic about...
Due to technical difficulties, it has not been updated in... Well, a long time. I wasn't planning on doing anything with it for a long while more, but due to popular demand I decided to put up this random crap.
So, just for you Luke.
Due to technical difficulties, it has not been updated in... Well, a long time. I wasn't planning on doing anything with it for a long while more, but due to popular demand I decided to put up this random crap.
So, just for you Luke.
Ever heard of a writing prompt sprint?
Here's how it works. You ask a random person for a writing prompt, give yourself a time limit, and see what comes out. When the time is up you have to stop no matter what.
So, I was having a writing prompt party with a friend of mine last night, and here is some of the word vomit that came as a result of said party.
For this one, the prompt was "She seemed like such a sweet old lady. Who would ever believe that she was really"
She seemed like such a sweet old lady. Who would ever elieve that she was...…
Now, I know what you’re thinking. It’s an attic. What’s the big deal?
Well, everybody has an attic. The typical human attic is full of things like.. boxes full of everything imaginable, and insulation (That prickly stuff has been known to give even the bravest lizard a rash!). And the typical human reaction to having to go into the attic to GET something, is a combination of horror and dread.
Here's how it works. You ask a random person for a writing prompt, give yourself a time limit, and see what comes out. When the time is up you have to stop no matter what.
So, I was having a writing prompt party with a friend of mine last night, and here is some of the word vomit that came as a result of said party.
For this one, the prompt was "She seemed like such a sweet old lady. Who would ever believe that she was really"
She seemed like such a sweet old lady. Who would ever elieve that she was...…
I’m not sure that I even believe it. It’s so easy to
question what I most certainly saw with my very own eyes. Yes, nobody would
believe me when I told them that my grandmother was a… but.. it would explain
the creaky joints, the way she sways whenever anybody leans on her..
Really, it’s so absurd! No way, it couldn’t be true.
But it has to be! All the facts are there. You just
can’t deny evidence like this.
So here it is. Come a little closer. Are you ready
to hear this secret?
……….
It might change your life..
…….
Listen, but only if you dare..
………………
Are you sure you want to know this deep dark
terrible secret?
…
Ok,
here it is.
My
grandmother is a ping-pong table.
For this one, there were two prompts. "How Hitler really died" and "a hamster in the attic".
For this one, there were two prompts. "How Hitler really died" and "a hamster in the attic".
I walked lazily into my
room, and closed the door behind me. Sounds like your typical teenage girl
right?
Well, would your typical
teenage girl close the door without giving it so much as a light push? Didn’t
think so.
I’m not your typical teenage girl, and yes, I closed my bedroom door without even touching it. My fingertips tingle when I use my magic, but I’m getting used to it. For the first few weeks, I could hardly bear it!
I’m not your typical teenage girl, and yes, I closed my bedroom door without even touching it. My fingertips tingle when I use my magic, but I’m getting used to it. For the first few weeks, I could hardly bear it!
My mom always thought I
was a strange child.. Apparently every four year old doesn’t beg for a hamster
and then name it Hitler. I didn’t even know who Hitler was. My mom was
horrified and.. well, Hitler the hamster disappeared.
The only part of this that I remember is.. Well, when he disappeared. My mom said he died of a heart attack, which was the result of the neighbor’s cat sneaking up on him and pulling faces at him between the bars of his cage.
The only part of this that I remember is.. Well, when he disappeared. My mom said he died of a heart attack, which was the result of the neighbor’s cat sneaking up on him and pulling faces at him between the bars of his cage.
But I mean, really?
Hitler the hamster was a brave soul. He wouldn’t die from something as silly as
that. I had other suspicions…
I think that my mother
set him loose… in the… Oh, I don’t know if I can say it… but say it I must.
I think she put him in the attic.
I think she put him in the attic.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. It’s an attic. What’s the big deal?
Well, everybody has an attic. The typical human attic is full of things like.. boxes full of everything imaginable, and insulation (That prickly stuff has been known to give even the bravest lizard a rash!). And the typical human reaction to having to go into the attic to GET something, is a combination of horror and dread.
As I already mentioned, I
am most definitely not your ordinary teenage girl. And therefore, it would be
reasonable to assume that my attic is also not considered ordinary.
How could it be? It has belonged to this house of witches for hundreds of years.
How could it be? It has belonged to this house of witches for hundreds of years.
Which brings me back
to..well.. Hitler.
I believe that Hitler got stored in the attic. And it would be most reasonable to assume that if he got put in the attic.. he most likely will not ever return.
There are many terrors in a witch’s attic (which is much bigger on the insi
I believe that Hitler got stored in the attic. And it would be most reasonable to assume that if he got put in the attic.. he most likely will not ever return.
There are many terrors in a witch’s attic (which is much bigger on the insi
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