Tuesday, February 19, 2013

In Response to Fiction Packet 3 - Intro to Creative Writing


Fiction Packet three held writings that were extremely interesting. Starting with “When It Rains It Rains A River” it seems like the writer compares boys to boys, but not exactly. What I see is that the brothers in this story are the men, those fully grown and forced out into the world to fend for themselves. The rain symbolizing the idea that this world is crazy, there are always storms to brave through. And even though we may have imperfect minds and we always have room to grow, we are but children in this world no matter our age, playing in the mud that is life on this Earth. As the story goes on we read that the boys go to fish in the rain, make up a girl in the rain, they are muddy. I believe this to mean that the brothers, the men of the story make a living not only for sustenance, but to create a family. The world is dirty, and you have to get your hands dirty sometimes in order to create a life worth living. If not, you might as well be dead already.

“The Singing Fish”, the next writing in this packet is of course an extension of the previous pages. While the girl, the women are sound asleep and the men are out to hunt and gather, they come upon the singing fish, in other words, representation of miracles, knowledge, and confusion in this world.

As we go on to “What Our Mother Always Told Us”, the mud becomes something different. It becomes even more prominent. I believe this is where our parents, mostly our mothers try to protect us from the outside world. They wish us to be clean of this earth and its chaos, trying to do everything for us until we deny it so much they let us go out into the world. This story is interesting because not every mother would care, but ones like these make the world. Though they try to keep us clean, the human is a stubborn machine that decides upon itself to become dirty either way.

All of the stories, more so the ones beginning with “The Falling Girl” explain life in such a simplistic way from the point of view of children, mothers, teenagers and such. Talking about the beautiful and the ugly (both people and things in this world), It shows how people grow as the world grows.

Now why “Death of the Right Fielder” was cut short I could not say, it begins interesting but yet we are not given the next page by our packet. The story of a fielder in baseball, his presence not known and noticed right away, as he was face down on the ground, as there were several theories as to what killed him, but for some reason the very first the author lists is being shot…Extremely strange if you ask me.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

The War


Here I am still standing after my war
One I fought with myself within myself
One that left my mind scattered, body sore
One that broke me down and shattered my shell
This war in me was over emotion
A war to control my own destiny
I do not know what words I have spoken
My mind went dead but in reality
I knew what I had done, what would happen
I knew what I would do next, take control
I knew the thing taken must be action
So I opened my eyes, released my soul
I knew from now on it was my own life
Where I made the rules, and I could end strife

Inspire Me


Every person I’ve ever met has inspired me to live
Even those who’ve brought me down, to them I can say that I forgive
Every person I’ve ever met has inspired me to have the bigger heart
Even though I might not be the nicest person I try and that’s a start
Every Person I’ve ever met has inspired me to dream
Even when life might be falling apart and tearing at the seams
Every person I’ve ever met has inspired me to trust in my God
Even those who don’t believe and those who choose to fake a façade
Every person I’ve ever met has inspired me to think
Remember who you are there’s a reason for everything
Every person I’ve ever met has inspired me in some way
Even the haters, the critics, the liars, the cheaters, and we live with them everyday
To them I say, no matter how much you bring me down I’m like a spring, I’ll end up high above the ground
And I know that what goes up must come down
But the hardships faced just tacks another up to experience and that thought is profound

Black Noise


Tick…tick…
I

A
M

N
O
T

The

S
I
C
K
N
E
S
S

The words fly onto a page creating a devastating blow to the heart.
I look through the air, I smell food from fast food joints like Wendy’s and Subway.
These streets are carved with the name…Rachel.
My mind stops. It is no more but a fly on the tongue of a frog
I’m trapped
Scratching on the walls of my brain until my fingers bleed blue and red, and my nails are gone
I scream AH!
My…I…It is more than this
The date…What day is it?
Friday? Tuesday?
June….June 21st
I don’t understand.
I am not the sickness

What's In Store?


MARVEL at what appears to be a new creation
I travel down a crimson path created out of my own indignant thoughts
These plague my mind always…Every day…Scratching at the back of my head.
I hear their voices…Like an echoing owl on my discombobulated psyche
Remember, remember the fifth of November… John
I must save John before it’s too late
But yet it has already happened
BOOM
The dynamite in my head explodes and goes my knowledge
Flooding onto a canvas as my body empties
I am gone
I could not save anyone.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Theory (In Response to Fluorescence)


A Chinese Ink print?
A very interesting use of a phrase I’ve never heard



Yet it interests me



W
H
Y
?


I continue to plague myself, wracking my brain

No longer….But I must
Yes I want to know
Yet you will not give me a proper audience




I believe this to be something that could pass for an interesting story
A smile crosses my face
Fingered face and nose?
What is that

A
S
M
I
L
E
C
R
O
S
S
E
S
M
Y
F
A
C
E


This is going to be intriguing in more ways than one. I’ll figure you out

One Day (In response to Fluorescence)


In response to Fluorescence


So you think this is fun don’t you?


I just don’t Understand
But yet I keep reading
Why?



I don’t know. You’re writing is but a real thing to me








So I write back to you saying
Excellent job, you’re good.
You’ve managed not only to make my mind boggle
But I’ve also come to see if your work is a puzzle of sorts


It is



One day….One day I’ll figure it out

Emotional-less-full-ness


Depressing, how very little we know about ourselves
And yet life goes on
Turbulents keep coming creating colder weather when it should be 15 degrees hotter
Our memory will live through epochs of time, well maybe not
Our molecules will eventually turn to dust and testaments proven true or false
Those fake people that blurb and try to think themselves so much higher than the rest of us
Livid it makes me, like I’m there Serif making my spindrifts of the world.
So very very little compared to their accomplishments
Yes, anger has founded me. Specifically frustration.
Status of my mind? Garbled. I might as well not make sense when I say things like The strata is full of gorgonzola autumns where I have posted Onehow a great lecture of Evolution
NO…Wrong….I don’t think so
The unpacific ocean I say, I am a belater
Decomposition takes its place like a termite to a tree
Get ready, get set…Go
The Silvian marks during a Funeral
I end on a high note
Happiness is more than an emotion.

I Never Wanted This


I Never Wanted This
Things in this world I don’t understand
How my mind faces decomposition if I refuse Evolution
And my breath creates a turbulent that flows through Epochs of time
Each molecule falling and rising through the wind
like leaves do in autumn
I feel like everything I say comes out as babble and blurb
It makes me livid it intoxicates me in such a way that I can only describe
As one Huge infuriation, that gives me the status of a bumbling idiot.
I create spindrifts in my mind and heart as I try to figure out how I can become a belater
A belater of emotions for this one is too strong to overcome
No it’s not anger, not happiness, nor sadness, but one that has overcome many obstacles
Unfortunately I can not overcome the emotion for it is my obstacle at this point in my life
Unpacific none the less, I wish my body sometimes was in the pacific for less than ten strings of time
For what I have posted here is my darkest secret that will not be understood by one hearted people
At least I hope that is the case, we sometimes give less credit than is deserved.
Like the serifs, those who Onehow become smart enough to overthrow.
This mindset that has founded me will become a Silvian of many thoughts and ideas
My testament to this is that one day I can stop it, throw it in the strata 
For I’d rather think about gorgonzola cheese rather than face the obstacle of one heart with another, while thinking of another heart with another heart.