Skip to main content

Plastic Fantastic

Follicle strands remain unkempt but why bother. Certain cries of calling fall tragically on deaf ears awaiting jurisdiction feeding lies off of cardboard boxes and tin cans of lager. An inferior delegate reminds them all of the burden and falls back into the slump, carrying the unbearable weight of its stigmata. Frail as snow as a timid, old woman in her nineties finds herself in a garden of make-believe unhampered by its formulaic occurrences, a sort of accepted norm that is dominant all throughout that make-believe space governed by make-believe smiles, sharing the feeling of nostalgia with the leaves and the feathers. She clings to the wall like an arachnid and drinks something from a flask like an amphibian drooling for its greens or hay. Smirking from a distance, sly flower frees herself from the shackles of dismay exhibiting all manners of rebellious spirit. Impressive at her age, no matter how fickle. She spawns the good and the beauty to give, like it was her own to spawn, a mother image to the well-being of the sickness and the child whose legs were then spread to give glory to its standing. Undeterred by personal opinion she suffers and suffers some more, struggling against a lost cause. The time comes when her other senses will finally find her. Her love will then be multiplied tenfold.

Popular posts from this blog

Snippet: In her darkest days, Elaine (worldbuilding), unfinished

Voices of strange busybodies could be heard on the other side of the edifice. Elaine reckoned she recognised one of them. An old friend. Perhaps not necessarily a friend, or not technically a friend. A friend is a rare commodity for her these days. She could walk right past them and not blink an eye, but Elaine waited for a little bit more until the lot toned down. Having a group of opposites around her, poking her skin through their eyes, meticulously making sure she was an enabler who to them an abundant source of entertainment, was all the reason needed to convince herself to back away from the complexity of it all. Home is an awful lot more awful than this place though, Elaine thought, as she gripped her handbag tightly, hoping the ray of darkness from the moon would envelope her and shield her from the attention of the lonesome trail.
"This would not have happened had you only listened to me, Elaine," complained Darco. "Half the people out there would skin us both…

Unprayer

Dark, darker, darkest, there is no difference. All hurts the same. Pain, everlasting, lingering. Pain, day and night. The hours are uncertain. Anything can happen now. Thinking about it hurts. Truth is unreliable. The romance is dead. My heart, it is lost. Unrecoverable, hateful, distrusting. Wishful, perhaps, but I have lost everything before and survived still. This one was special. So special. Embittered, the tip of my tongue tastes. The flavour of my life. Cuisine of kitchens unwanted. It burns, to the heart. I do not understand. I do not understand.

Me: Things that have happened to other people are happening in mine, the worst truly has come and not a moment too soon

My important wishes always happen to fall on deaf ears, and now something really, really bad (that has already happened before) is happening to me again. Beneath all the charade of misleading coulrotic bliss is a sad sap of a man merely wanting a bit of trust from everyone around him. Yesterday's news was Mioseon all over again, and it has drained me of all strength. The worst really has come, and heaven knows I'm miserable now.
So it goes without saying that the biggest tragedy I have ever undergone in my life is fighting for the life of my child whose face I will never see. The most perplexing event was having to beg over and over unknowingly oblivious to the fact that my words carry no weight at all. Mioseon had trapped me into a corner and made me complicit to a sin I tried very hard to disavow. Regardless, she had found a way, and judging from that experience, Miriam herself will submit me to the same torture all over again, guilty by association.
For some reason this wa…