Time
Limbo exists where the flow is not; perpetual status of pause.
A barren branch remains so until a barren branch remains
A frozen look remains so until a frozen look remains.
So, does time bring the same while bringing change?
Stop. Go. Pause. Slow. Fast. In between.
With leaves budding, growing, glowing, changing, falling
So what difference does time flow do different than limbo.
Lost in limbo, a phrase defined
Lost in time, so real
Looking into a mirror while living hard and fast
Youthful mind filled with eternity to view a fading body with so little time.
What if one never dies? Living forever. Tasting the worlds as if for the first time
Over and over
with more than time can count,
never aging, never in doubt, always excited,
traveling with time...
Can this too, be considered limbo?
(silence)
As it was written once, it is contentment.
* - _- *
Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Moderator: Editors
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Having a mind brings to mind, mindful, and full.
So much
meaning.
She says this and that using many names
He says that and this is'
A sky applauds.
So much,
meaning in directions led
and wanting.
Wanting to mind and find full
meaning.
There, can you feel it?
Can you grab it? Smell it? Taste it?
it is...
So much
meaning.
She says this and that using many names
He says that and this is'
A sky applauds.
So much,
meaning in directions led
and wanting.
Wanting to mind and find full
meaning.
There, can you feel it?
Can you grab it? Smell it? Taste it?
it is...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
(munch, munch...) "So, Robin, learn anything lately."
Well, I had a man tell me today at a swimming pool about how his youngest son asked him if he ever made whoopi with the digestive tract of a female.
"That sounds cool. Boring, but cool."
Well, that's not the weird part. The weird part was that he told me his son said, "My girlfriend is Mormon and will only allow me to (censored) in the (censored) not the normal (woman's part)
"No shit? This guy really said that to you?"
Yep. The inspiration is only one real event away. Humans never fail to provide entertainment, and today's event leads to a short story.
*
The Man Who Fucked Everything
Written by: If it's been thought of, it's been tried.
Once upon on a planet called, Earth, there existed a man named Bob. Bob was born in the small town of Giness, Italy to the proud parents of Antonio and his wife, Bernette. They had given their son the name of, Bob, in honor of an American comedian, Bob Hope.
Bob was a normal lad, growing up on a farm. Milking cows. Gathering chicken eggs. To his parents he was the perfect son. However, perfection can only lead to imperfection. Bob, grew. He matured. He found that pleasure could be had by rubbing his little penis and it did not take long for Bob to learn that rubbing could involve farm animals.
Dogs. Chickens. Once he even pleasured himself on the families milk cow. It was here that his father caught him, causing Bob to fall off the milk stool he stood on. The poor cow just stood there chewing her cud and obviously care a lot less that Bob was (censored) while Bob's father got a whole lot more excited and yelled at his son (translated from Italian) "Boy! What the hell are you doing to our cow!"
Flustered, the young pervert replied, "I was finding pleasure father. It feels so good..."
*
I going to end this story here now as I feel like gagging. For me as a writer, I can see what I write as vividly as you can read the words written here. Is this story offensive? To some, very much so. To others, it causes excitement in their minds.
As a U.S. Marine once stationed overseas I personally got to witness many sexual perversions that if I would write them would make this short story pale in comparison.
Humans are a strange lot.
I have been inspired again to write weird shit here for awhile. I highly recommend that no one reads it as I'm going to deal in some weird dark stuff. I'll try to keep it somewhat civilized and apologize for any snowflakes who could become so offended they start to melt. Tomorrow I think the story will be about what happens when rocks get angry.
Well, I had a man tell me today at a swimming pool about how his youngest son asked him if he ever made whoopi with the digestive tract of a female.
"That sounds cool. Boring, but cool."
Well, that's not the weird part. The weird part was that he told me his son said, "My girlfriend is Mormon and will only allow me to (censored) in the (censored) not the normal (woman's part)
"No shit? This guy really said that to you?"
Yep. The inspiration is only one real event away. Humans never fail to provide entertainment, and today's event leads to a short story.
*
The Man Who Fucked Everything
Written by: If it's been thought of, it's been tried.
Once upon on a planet called, Earth, there existed a man named Bob. Bob was born in the small town of Giness, Italy to the proud parents of Antonio and his wife, Bernette. They had given their son the name of, Bob, in honor of an American comedian, Bob Hope.
Bob was a normal lad, growing up on a farm. Milking cows. Gathering chicken eggs. To his parents he was the perfect son. However, perfection can only lead to imperfection. Bob, grew. He matured. He found that pleasure could be had by rubbing his little penis and it did not take long for Bob to learn that rubbing could involve farm animals.
Dogs. Chickens. Once he even pleasured himself on the families milk cow. It was here that his father caught him, causing Bob to fall off the milk stool he stood on. The poor cow just stood there chewing her cud and obviously care a lot less that Bob was (censored) while Bob's father got a whole lot more excited and yelled at his son (translated from Italian) "Boy! What the hell are you doing to our cow!"
Flustered, the young pervert replied, "I was finding pleasure father. It feels so good..."
*
I going to end this story here now as I feel like gagging. For me as a writer, I can see what I write as vividly as you can read the words written here. Is this story offensive? To some, very much so. To others, it causes excitement in their minds.
As a U.S. Marine once stationed overseas I personally got to witness many sexual perversions that if I would write them would make this short story pale in comparison.
Humans are a strange lot.
I have been inspired again to write weird shit here for awhile. I highly recommend that no one reads it as I'm going to deal in some weird dark stuff. I'll try to keep it somewhat civilized and apologize for any snowflakes who could become so offended they start to melt. Tomorrow I think the story will be about what happens when rocks get angry.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Having owned three boats in the past it was only logical that I buy a fourth. In the past there was the first boat, the Monatana 'Slammer'. It was new, beyond my budget, and covered in fish blood. Then there was the commercial salmon troller I owned that was the cause of many little fishies to find nirvana in my fish box. Then there was the Alaska adventure where again, many, many fishies found their way to a dinner plate.
Yesterday, I bought my fourth boat. Well, half. I didn't have enough to cover the full $1900.00 so if I sell some blood, maybe a kidney, or steal an ATM machine, next month I'll own a whole boat.
As far as boats go, this 'new' one is a piece of crap. 12' long, powered by an offbrand motor and probably will eventually sink, BUT, the man who owned it, who died last year, took very good care of the piece of crap... It exudes nothing but positive potential and hope, which in fishing, is very important.
The boat was sold by his ancient wife, who had a nice smile. Few humans in this world are worth much in my opinion, and she was one. The whole deal yesterday was excellent.
Now why am I writing about this shit? Because I can. Because it is inspiring, much as all situations in life should be inspirational for those trying to claim the title, 'writer'. Yes. I'm a shitty writer who now owns half of a shitty boat, but in the coming moments of having the boat trailer get a flat tire, losing half my fishing gear while going around a sharp curve in the highway, sticking a fishhook through my lip... There will also come great inspiration for stories. Plus, those damn yellow perch better start trembling when they see the wake and the black smoke of exhaust coming their way on Cascade Lake.
Already, I'm inspired to write a poem about a boat sitting up on the prairie, in a garage, waiting to enrich my mind and soul.
***
Wintery cracks to carry shadows deep, buried drifts lay Summer dreams
Camas Prairie sits Dufur's test, long standing past his beating heart
a failed chest.
A new year, a new season, grass to push snow laden
Sun to melt the hearts of sadness, and there, a sale to a man lost
a man found, his soul.
It was metal, cold and true, but covered with pictures
Memories if you will
Oars, anchor, failing paint, tired joints welded
and rubber where road met wheel.
A boat. A tired boat waiting for a tired old man to buy
both now waiting for new dreams, new travels,
waiting to set sail.
Yesterday, I bought my fourth boat. Well, half. I didn't have enough to cover the full $1900.00 so if I sell some blood, maybe a kidney, or steal an ATM machine, next month I'll own a whole boat.
As far as boats go, this 'new' one is a piece of crap. 12' long, powered by an offbrand motor and probably will eventually sink, BUT, the man who owned it, who died last year, took very good care of the piece of crap... It exudes nothing but positive potential and hope, which in fishing, is very important.
The boat was sold by his ancient wife, who had a nice smile. Few humans in this world are worth much in my opinion, and she was one. The whole deal yesterday was excellent.
Now why am I writing about this shit? Because I can. Because it is inspiring, much as all situations in life should be inspirational for those trying to claim the title, 'writer'. Yes. I'm a shitty writer who now owns half of a shitty boat, but in the coming moments of having the boat trailer get a flat tire, losing half my fishing gear while going around a sharp curve in the highway, sticking a fishhook through my lip... There will also come great inspiration for stories. Plus, those damn yellow perch better start trembling when they see the wake and the black smoke of exhaust coming their way on Cascade Lake.
Already, I'm inspired to write a poem about a boat sitting up on the prairie, in a garage, waiting to enrich my mind and soul.
***
Wintery cracks to carry shadows deep, buried drifts lay Summer dreams
Camas Prairie sits Dufur's test, long standing past his beating heart
a failed chest.
A new year, a new season, grass to push snow laden
Sun to melt the hearts of sadness, and there, a sale to a man lost
a man found, his soul.
It was metal, cold and true, but covered with pictures
Memories if you will
Oars, anchor, failing paint, tired joints welded
and rubber where road met wheel.
A boat. A tired boat waiting for a tired old man to buy
both now waiting for new dreams, new travels,
waiting to set sail.
-
Lester Curtis
- Long Fiction Editor
- Posts: 2736
- Joined: January 11, 2010, 12:03:56 AM
- Location: by the time you read this, I'll be somewhere else
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Only two things about this bother me: first, that (so I've read somewhere) fucking a chicken can kill it (maybe Bob found that out after the first one), and, second, I just hope Bob washed the shit off the cow's ass first. They tend to get pretty filthy.Lipinski wrote: Bob was a normal lad, growing up on a farm. Milking cows. Gathering chicken eggs. To his parents he was the perfect son. However, perfection can only lead to imperfection. Bob, grew. He matured. He found that pleasure could be had by rubbing his little penis and it did not take long for Bob to learn that rubbing could involve farm animals.
Dogs. Chickens. Once he even pleasured himself on the families milk cow. It was here that his father caught him, causing Bob to fall off the milk stool he stood on. The poor cow just stood there chewing her cud and obviously care a lot less that Bob was (censored) while Bob's father got a whole lot more excited and yelled at his son (translated from Italian) "Boy! What the hell are you doing to our cow!"
As to the dog ... dogs are Man's Best Friends. Some dogs are Friends With Benefits. It depends on the dog, of course; if it doesn't like that kind of attention, you could lose the use of your pecker for a while (maybe forever).
I was once treated to a second-hand account of a young man who, in his desperate horniness, took a stick and poked a hole in the ground, then poured beer into it as a substitute for lubricant, and fucked himself off in the resultant cold mud-hole. If the Earth is our mother, then that is one true definition of a motherfucker.
Some people really will fuck anything.
I was raised by humans. What's your excuse?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
You point out an excellent observation Lester, that being there is now an 'official' new sexual orientation put out by the government of the good ol U.S. of A. That being, ecosex, or one who finds gratification with having sexual relations with the planet. When I heard about it the picture that came to my mind was of one fucking a tree. And then, the picture turned to sharp splinters. And then, screaming. And then, laughter as the tree being violated dropped a dead branch on the dickheads head.
Humans are an amazing, absolutely amazing source of inspiration. And when you throw in sex? Wowzee... If it's been thought of , it's been tried. That alone almost caused my mind to shut down as my mind can think of some really, really, sick stuff.
I know a lot of publishers and online websites frown on the use of profanity, and definitely would not condone stories about people having sex with animals, but why? Humans are a hypocritical lot. Praying to the Lord with one side of the mind and fucking little smurfs with the other side. This is one really great reason on why Aphelion is definitely the 'cutting' edge of freestyle, creative writing.
Sure, everything in its place. And I for one, am intensely grateful this website allows such expression even if only a few people out there could appreciate it. Too much mush in the literary world for my taste. Robots. Warriors. Zombies. Blah,blah,blah... Oh, and before the inspiration you just gave me bears fruit, the chicken I had the other day dipped in Ranch sauce... Yummy!
Thanks for reading, commenting, and (i just had to use italics) the inspiration for the following Lester. Good hearing from you.
***
The elves only experience the feelings of lust three times in their long lives. 'Normal' sex between elves is common as it is civil, but when the lust hits them...it is a wild experience for one lucky enough to witness, and very unlucky for one to be a participant of the actions unleashed.
La'ron, an old elf by elf standards and ancient beyond count by humans, was now experiencing his third and final moment of lust.
"La'ron is in his moment, tell the others to enact the Korgtoti."
The Korgtoti was an established mechanism practiced when either a female or male elf enters the moment of lust. It was a means of hiding sexual identity and presence for those so aroused. Those who did not practice Korgtoti... they were then subject to something so primal and violent, it had actually been known to kill via the sexual power of one under the powers of lust.
Some elves actually enjoyed the sex with one under the influence of their lust. It was a mix of civil and primal. Though most elves smartly enacted Korgtoti.
La'ron was fully engorged. A male elf's cock is not larger, rather , it is long and thin. It dances a hypnotic dance, much like a cobra. As to what powers an elf penis has, it is beyond measure.
In dimensions between this and that, La'ron took his pleasure. His appendage went up and wound through his nostrils, exited his mouth and then entered a Blue whale ready to be mounted. The future offspring was one that would actually create a new universe.
On and on, the sexual rampage of La'ron created and destroyed life. It was...
(and on and on. a simple story really. very few could or can understand what was just written, but fuck it, i do and now I'm hungry for chicken with ranch dressing)
Humans are an amazing, absolutely amazing source of inspiration. And when you throw in sex? Wowzee... If it's been thought of , it's been tried. That alone almost caused my mind to shut down as my mind can think of some really, really, sick stuff.
I know a lot of publishers and online websites frown on the use of profanity, and definitely would not condone stories about people having sex with animals, but why? Humans are a hypocritical lot. Praying to the Lord with one side of the mind and fucking little smurfs with the other side. This is one really great reason on why Aphelion is definitely the 'cutting' edge of freestyle, creative writing.
Sure, everything in its place. And I for one, am intensely grateful this website allows such expression even if only a few people out there could appreciate it. Too much mush in the literary world for my taste. Robots. Warriors. Zombies. Blah,blah,blah... Oh, and before the inspiration you just gave me bears fruit, the chicken I had the other day dipped in Ranch sauce... Yummy!
Thanks for reading, commenting, and (i just had to use italics) the inspiration for the following Lester. Good hearing from you.
***
The elves only experience the feelings of lust three times in their long lives. 'Normal' sex between elves is common as it is civil, but when the lust hits them...it is a wild experience for one lucky enough to witness, and very unlucky for one to be a participant of the actions unleashed.
La'ron, an old elf by elf standards and ancient beyond count by humans, was now experiencing his third and final moment of lust.
"La'ron is in his moment, tell the others to enact the Korgtoti."
The Korgtoti was an established mechanism practiced when either a female or male elf enters the moment of lust. It was a means of hiding sexual identity and presence for those so aroused. Those who did not practice Korgtoti... they were then subject to something so primal and violent, it had actually been known to kill via the sexual power of one under the powers of lust.
Some elves actually enjoyed the sex with one under the influence of their lust. It was a mix of civil and primal. Though most elves smartly enacted Korgtoti.
La'ron was fully engorged. A male elf's cock is not larger, rather , it is long and thin. It dances a hypnotic dance, much like a cobra. As to what powers an elf penis has, it is beyond measure.
In dimensions between this and that, La'ron took his pleasure. His appendage went up and wound through his nostrils, exited his mouth and then entered a Blue whale ready to be mounted. The future offspring was one that would actually create a new universe.
On and on, the sexual rampage of La'ron created and destroyed life. It was...
(and on and on. a simple story really. very few could or can understand what was just written, but fuck it, i do and now I'm hungry for chicken with ranch dressing)
-
Lester Curtis
- Long Fiction Editor
- Posts: 2736
- Joined: January 11, 2010, 12:03:56 AM
- Location: by the time you read this, I'll be somewhere else
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
I'm afraid we're both falling behind in the imagination department ... I'm pretty sure you never came up with any of these, and I KNOW I didn't ...
http://good.barkpost.com/humor/vagina-euphemisms/
http://good.barkpost.com/humor/vagina-euphemisms/
I was raised by humans. What's your excuse?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Nah Lester, there is no shortage of imagination on our parts... ("yeah Robin, you're a dickhead, that's your part") No parasite, you're the dick.
Checked out the link and all I saw in my mind was food.
"All you ever see is food."
No, I see other things also. For example: The word vagina is an interesting word, much as the word, penis. I find most official words regarding the body to be mostly weird. Or, at the least a play with the dead language of a language I love, Latin.
Gluteus maximus. Butt, ass, behind, are the more accepted names but the official name is cool as it reminds me of a Roman general I once had the pleasure of feasting on back in the day.
"So, now what Robin. You're saying you're a cannibal?"
Nope, just an idiot like you parasite.
Getting back to the word, vagina. For me the word would best apply to the herbal order of plants. "Would you like some Thyme or Vagina with your Caesar salad?"
Sounds much better as a herb. Of course, clam is used for vagina as is pussy. A misuse in my opinion as the word clam definitely fits the mollusk family and pussy definitely does not fit as it best applies to kitty cats.
Lets use some imagination. What word would fit the word vagina? One not currently used. Mmm... Give it a try. Okay. Let's see... Dividica. Tweenso. Ordim. K'so. Not hard really.
As with all words and species, evolution will change even the vernacular of language even more. It will be interesting to see the English language in five-hundred years. Probably something like this: "I, I comered under so ordim. Nice. Sje bot and sje orly."
Checked out the link and all I saw in my mind was food.
"All you ever see is food."
No, I see other things also. For example: The word vagina is an interesting word, much as the word, penis. I find most official words regarding the body to be mostly weird. Or, at the least a play with the dead language of a language I love, Latin.
Gluteus maximus. Butt, ass, behind, are the more accepted names but the official name is cool as it reminds me of a Roman general I once had the pleasure of feasting on back in the day.
"So, now what Robin. You're saying you're a cannibal?"
Nope, just an idiot like you parasite.
Getting back to the word, vagina. For me the word would best apply to the herbal order of plants. "Would you like some Thyme or Vagina with your Caesar salad?"
Sounds much better as a herb. Of course, clam is used for vagina as is pussy. A misuse in my opinion as the word clam definitely fits the mollusk family and pussy definitely does not fit as it best applies to kitty cats.
Lets use some imagination. What word would fit the word vagina? One not currently used. Mmm... Give it a try. Okay. Let's see... Dividica. Tweenso. Ordim. K'so. Not hard really.
As with all words and species, evolution will change even the vernacular of language even more. It will be interesting to see the English language in five-hundred years. Probably something like this: "I, I comered under so ordim. Nice. Sje bot and sje orly."
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"Hey ROBIN! Hello!"
Yes parasite. Why the yelling.
"I'm not yelling. I was working with powertools today and the high pitched whining reminded me of you, plus I went damn near deaf."
You? You work? Damn, I thought you were one slug away from being a snail. Always pictured you as a lazy bastard.
"Nah, all that talk about vagina's and sex got me thinking so I'm building a whore house."
Okay. Interesting. And who is gonna be your clients? Let alone, who is going to work there?
"Shit. Hadn't thought of that. Well, I could hire a couple of dolphins, maybe a few coyote bitches in heat. But, shit, you're right... HEY! Wanna buy a slightly built whore house... CHEAP!"
Shhh. Tone it down. Of course I don't want to buy a whorehouse. I don't want to buy anything you build. In fact, what you're building looks like a cross between a campfire gone wrong and a termite riddled home for ants.
Why don't you go get your hearing back and leave me to write a poem about your foolish idea.
"YEAH! YOu're right. SEE yA!"
***
Words
They come as letters and leave as nouns, adjectives, and verbs
Strung together they declare love and war, real and unreal.
Emotions of getting across a point.
Take away the sound, silence the lips, leave the page blank
You still have words
as long as there exists a mind
there will always be confusion mixed with failure and success.
Yes parasite. Why the yelling.
"I'm not yelling. I was working with powertools today and the high pitched whining reminded me of you, plus I went damn near deaf."
You? You work? Damn, I thought you were one slug away from being a snail. Always pictured you as a lazy bastard.
"Nah, all that talk about vagina's and sex got me thinking so I'm building a whore house."
Okay. Interesting. And who is gonna be your clients? Let alone, who is going to work there?
"Shit. Hadn't thought of that. Well, I could hire a couple of dolphins, maybe a few coyote bitches in heat. But, shit, you're right... HEY! Wanna buy a slightly built whore house... CHEAP!"
Shhh. Tone it down. Of course I don't want to buy a whorehouse. I don't want to buy anything you build. In fact, what you're building looks like a cross between a campfire gone wrong and a termite riddled home for ants.
Why don't you go get your hearing back and leave me to write a poem about your foolish idea.
"YEAH! YOu're right. SEE yA!"
***
Words
They come as letters and leave as nouns, adjectives, and verbs
Strung together they declare love and war, real and unreal.
Emotions of getting across a point.
Take away the sound, silence the lips, leave the page blank
You still have words
as long as there exists a mind
there will always be confusion mixed with failure and success.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Goldfish comes to mind
morphing into
an arrow.
Refraction of liquid in a bowl showing big eyes, gaping mouth, and colored gravel
Round and round, then round again
so,
why an arrow?
A cat claw digs deep into the center of circle
Deep and wet and down
Tipping a glass vessel and released.
Flying through the air, straight and true to the floor
a golden fish
a lifeless arrow.
morphing into
an arrow.
Refraction of liquid in a bowl showing big eyes, gaping mouth, and colored gravel
Round and round, then round again
so,
why an arrow?
A cat claw digs deep into the center of circle
Deep and wet and down
Tipping a glass vessel and released.
Flying through the air, straight and true to the floor
a golden fish
a lifeless arrow.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
A lot of inspirational news in the news pertaining to global destruction. Gas. Nukes. Little Korean man with a small penis, fat gut, and the mind of a toad.
A little world war does wonders for innovation and evolution. Plus, today it inspires me for writing.
***
Her flesh was white as snow, her breasts softly sensuous, her hair; bliss...
A dream replaced as there entered the shadows
Last night
the eye of the Dragon,
blinked.
Inside the mind now replaced white with blackness.
Moon and beast merged with eyebrow clouds of vastness
A scene.
Man against man. Female against female. Child against child.
Bird. Beast. Animal. Fish. Insect.
Struggling to breath without gasping, flesh burnt, lungs collapsing.
An ocean filled with sinking pride
Countries liquid as the earth cried
So much sadness, sanguine colors pales optimism and hope.
Red.
Flow red this river now, time of clarity finished, putrid entrails turning to dust
while sitting silently in fertile soil
untouched
waiting
a flower seed blooming.
Such is mankind's endeavors with actions of ludicrous reality
leaving one sad with eyes open
and dreams of what's coming.
Dragons breath; winds of silent force; wide lips parted
the monsters laugh to change a shattered planet
now one of gardens and peace.
A little world war does wonders for innovation and evolution. Plus, today it inspires me for writing.
***
Her flesh was white as snow, her breasts softly sensuous, her hair; bliss...
A dream replaced as there entered the shadows
Last night
the eye of the Dragon,
blinked.
Inside the mind now replaced white with blackness.
Moon and beast merged with eyebrow clouds of vastness
A scene.
Man against man. Female against female. Child against child.
Bird. Beast. Animal. Fish. Insect.
Struggling to breath without gasping, flesh burnt, lungs collapsing.
An ocean filled with sinking pride
Countries liquid as the earth cried
So much sadness, sanguine colors pales optimism and hope.
Red.
Flow red this river now, time of clarity finished, putrid entrails turning to dust
while sitting silently in fertile soil
untouched
waiting
a flower seed blooming.
Such is mankind's endeavors with actions of ludicrous reality
leaving one sad with eyes open
and dreams of what's coming.
Dragons breath; winds of silent force; wide lips parted
the monsters laugh to change a shattered planet
now one of gardens and peace.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Good Friday
written by: one with no name
TGIF.
Restaurant.
End of the week.
A beginning...
Names of, and given, names.
Sounds of such
sounding so
important.
Seven days.
Seven names.
Repeating.
Over and over.
Once, and for three days, for humanity, it was important.
To each, one to be born, many to live, one to die
three phases of names\ so/ \given\ / taken\
important.
Life: Can you feel it? You with your names and days, even after you leave it?
Eternal: Worlds beyond belief, beyond names, days, weeks, months, years, time...
To fly
free...
written by: one with no name
TGIF.
Restaurant.
End of the week.
A beginning...
Names of, and given, names.
Sounds of such
sounding so
important.
Seven days.
Seven names.
Repeating.
Over and over.
Once, and for three days, for humanity, it was important.
To each, one to be born, many to live, one to die
three phases of names\ so/ \given\ / taken\
important.
Life: Can you feel it? You with your names and days, even after you leave it?
Eternal: Worlds beyond belief, beyond names, days, weeks, months, years, time...
To fly
free...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
vibrations resound the tremor of violence
bayonet fixed while those in denial fix latte and false belief
sadness?
why?
history always repeats itself,
again and again and again.
i was there in Jerusalem, when Roman soldiers stirred
before in Masada, before the Force and...
them.
Congo. Ireland. Germany.
Countries young and old
never learn.
mothers cry and fathers lament lost children, themselves in turn
destroyed.
battlefields only change in name and situation, results are always
always
always
always...
the same.
where is your hope now? in God? in Money? in Government?
maybe
yourself?
Fool.
So foolish.
There is, is, is...
no escape.
Death is here, it never leaves as it comes.
***
"Fuck Robin. No hope? Shit there is always hope."
No. Hope is dead for humanity, but, one day, it will come.
"Shit Robin. You're more fucked up in the head than I'll ever be..."
Probably, but at least for the moment, I have new bags of chips from Costco AND pizza! As for the rest of the world... Nuke it all and lets get it to the next stage. One where puppets have no master and no strings.
bayonet fixed while those in denial fix latte and false belief
sadness?
why?
history always repeats itself,
again and again and again.
i was there in Jerusalem, when Roman soldiers stirred
before in Masada, before the Force and...
them.
Congo. Ireland. Germany.
Countries young and old
never learn.
mothers cry and fathers lament lost children, themselves in turn
destroyed.
battlefields only change in name and situation, results are always
always
always
always...
the same.
where is your hope now? in God? in Money? in Government?
maybe
yourself?
Fool.
So foolish.
There is, is, is...
no escape.
Death is here, it never leaves as it comes.
***
"Fuck Robin. No hope? Shit there is always hope."
No. Hope is dead for humanity, but, one day, it will come.
"Shit Robin. You're more fucked up in the head than I'll ever be..."
Probably, but at least for the moment, I have new bags of chips from Costco AND pizza! As for the rest of the world... Nuke it all and lets get it to the next stage. One where puppets have no master and no strings.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Having just watched a short video of a young Scottish girl discussing chocolate and the easter bunny with her father, I found the logic and humor both inspiring and fun.
Children have a built in knack for saying it like it is, and with their stage of logic, mostly true.
***
"Daddy, where does...?
*
Questions of a Child
It starts early, so early they have not even left the womb.
Kicking the sides, testing their boundaries and world
Then with great volume they announce a question in a cry while covered in placenta,
"Whaa!" or (why?)
Interludes of sleep filled with questions and answers in dreams
they grow.
They test.
They succeed.
They fail.
They ask and receive knowledge from every crack, crevice, and way.
At what age does a child finally understand...
Humanity, a species of children aged none to one hundred and fifty
Spanning centuries and still the same
Kicking and screaming
Laughing and crying.
Sleeping and dying...
Currently the children are learning while really,
not
understanding
a
damn
thing.
Of course, as with all children, they finally mature, they grow
so
for humanity
this too will occur
far off into the birth of the future
or for your understanding
one day.
Children have a built in knack for saying it like it is, and with their stage of logic, mostly true.
***
"Daddy, where does...?
*
Questions of a Child
It starts early, so early they have not even left the womb.
Kicking the sides, testing their boundaries and world
Then with great volume they announce a question in a cry while covered in placenta,
"Whaa!" or (why?)
Interludes of sleep filled with questions and answers in dreams
they grow.
They test.
They succeed.
They fail.
They ask and receive knowledge from every crack, crevice, and way.
At what age does a child finally understand...
Humanity, a species of children aged none to one hundred and fifty
Spanning centuries and still the same
Kicking and screaming
Laughing and crying.
Sleeping and dying...
Currently the children are learning while really,
not
understanding
a
damn
thing.
Of course, as with all children, they finally mature, they grow
so
for humanity
this too will occur
far off into the birth of the future
or for your understanding
one day.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Easter 2017
Hard to believe. It seems like only yesterday I wrote something in honor of Easter. And here we are again, another Easter.
Not much has changed for humanity (except for some obvious 'de-evolutionary' nutcases, ie...democrats crying about El presidente Trumpy) I could have just as well wrote (except for some obvious 'de-evolutionary' nutcases, ie...republican crying about El presidente Bama((back a few years ago))
So, most humans with functioning brain cells know about Easter and a lot could give a shit about any of it. For me, Easter reminds me and my arrogance that there was one who sacrificed everything for others, be they democrats or republicans.
Many say the story of God and Jesus are just fairy tales and let me just say, I've written a billion, well, millions, well, at lest ten words and stories in my life BUT I've literally read libraries of books. (as a speed reader when I'm in 'shape' can devour three books a day.
I've experienced every genre, form, of literature that exists. Even in the religious realm I've read the Koran, Bible, (s), Sikh writings, Buddist, Mormon, shit, I've read a lot of things. The Hindu religion fascinates me. What is common with all is the level of nuances.
But, Easter. God. Jesus. Makes for a wonderful fairy tale and yet the plot line, wording, situations, politics, government, and most importantly, the timing... Wow! Or in another way of expressing, Wowee wow wow.
Humans are too primitive to come up with something that is so simple to read on the 'surface' yet 'buried' in between the 'story' are layers upon layers so deep they become so complicated, so sophisticated, very, very, few can even come close to understanding...
I have no faith in God or Jesus. None. To have faith is to believe in what is hard to see. The supernatural. I need no faith as to what I see constantly. Every day and night. Awake or asleep. And let me just say, Wow, or Wowee wow wow... "Robin, you sound like a fucking dog."
"Oh, and since you're a fucking religious nut, you do know most religions frown on the use of profanity?"
Fucking 'A' I do, and there is a deep level reason on why I use profanity. Remember parasite, it's not the word being said, but the meaning in the mind/soul when using the profanity.
"Shit, you're weird Robin. And while you're busy here, I'm gonna go finish those raisin bagels. Damn, they're tasty."
Anyway, what I think, see and know is meaningless and not the point for tonight. Tonight is just a few minutes away from another day representing the day Jesus became the Light of the world. A most powerful and wonderful light indeed. And, also inspiring for the yearly Easter poem.
***
History of Humanity
Darkness marked the day I was conceived
Rain fell in storm the day I was born
Lightning marked my shadow against the ground in blackness.
War after war fought in vain
Vision of pride and arrogance
Lust and gluttony...
and then,
he came.
In balance and need I am now conceived in light
Sunlight bathes the room of birth
Calm breezes and clear sky light up the day.
Virtue
Dignity
Honor,
helping those in need.
Thank you Jesus, for showing us the path, for lighting up our way.
*
"Hey Robin, you do know you're not human? I mean, how can an intelligent potato claim to be human?"
Yeah, you're right parasite. I'm just passing through...but, hey, in the meantime, wanna go make some french fries?
"Yeah. Let's chop off your dick, or is that a root, and fry that up first."
Hard to believe. It seems like only yesterday I wrote something in honor of Easter. And here we are again, another Easter.
Not much has changed for humanity (except for some obvious 'de-evolutionary' nutcases, ie...democrats crying about El presidente Trumpy) I could have just as well wrote (except for some obvious 'de-evolutionary' nutcases, ie...republican crying about El presidente Bama((back a few years ago))
So, most humans with functioning brain cells know about Easter and a lot could give a shit about any of it. For me, Easter reminds me and my arrogance that there was one who sacrificed everything for others, be they democrats or republicans.
Many say the story of God and Jesus are just fairy tales and let me just say, I've written a billion, well, millions, well, at lest ten words and stories in my life BUT I've literally read libraries of books. (as a speed reader when I'm in 'shape' can devour three books a day.
I've experienced every genre, form, of literature that exists. Even in the religious realm I've read the Koran, Bible, (s), Sikh writings, Buddist, Mormon, shit, I've read a lot of things. The Hindu religion fascinates me. What is common with all is the level of nuances.
But, Easter. God. Jesus. Makes for a wonderful fairy tale and yet the plot line, wording, situations, politics, government, and most importantly, the timing... Wow! Or in another way of expressing, Wowee wow wow.
Humans are too primitive to come up with something that is so simple to read on the 'surface' yet 'buried' in between the 'story' are layers upon layers so deep they become so complicated, so sophisticated, very, very, few can even come close to understanding...
I have no faith in God or Jesus. None. To have faith is to believe in what is hard to see. The supernatural. I need no faith as to what I see constantly. Every day and night. Awake or asleep. And let me just say, Wow, or Wowee wow wow... "Robin, you sound like a fucking dog."
"Oh, and since you're a fucking religious nut, you do know most religions frown on the use of profanity?"
Fucking 'A' I do, and there is a deep level reason on why I use profanity. Remember parasite, it's not the word being said, but the meaning in the mind/soul when using the profanity.
"Shit, you're weird Robin. And while you're busy here, I'm gonna go finish those raisin bagels. Damn, they're tasty."
Anyway, what I think, see and know is meaningless and not the point for tonight. Tonight is just a few minutes away from another day representing the day Jesus became the Light of the world. A most powerful and wonderful light indeed. And, also inspiring for the yearly Easter poem.
***
History of Humanity
Darkness marked the day I was conceived
Rain fell in storm the day I was born
Lightning marked my shadow against the ground in blackness.
War after war fought in vain
Vision of pride and arrogance
Lust and gluttony...
and then,
he came.
In balance and need I am now conceived in light
Sunlight bathes the room of birth
Calm breezes and clear sky light up the day.
Virtue
Dignity
Honor,
helping those in need.
Thank you Jesus, for showing us the path, for lighting up our way.
*
"Hey Robin, you do know you're not human? I mean, how can an intelligent potato claim to be human?"
Yeah, you're right parasite. I'm just passing through...but, hey, in the meantime, wanna go make some french fries?
"Yeah. Let's chop off your dick, or is that a root, and fry that up first."
-
Lester Curtis
- Long Fiction Editor
- Posts: 2736
- Joined: January 11, 2010, 12:03:56 AM
- Location: by the time you read this, I'll be somewhere else
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
This is a late response, but, why did you buy a boat? You could have built your own, y'know, people have been doing that for about 25,000 years now ...
Seriously, if I'd known you felt the need of a boat, I'd have suggested this earlier. You can make a twelve-footer out of plywood and it'll come in at under 100 pounds (often closer to 50), so you wouldn't even need that trailer. Just shove it up into the bed of your pickup truck (I'm pretty sure you have one of those?) and off to the lake you go.
Free plans all over the 'net. Okay, they're not too closely detailed, but anyone can get the important parts right, right? You stay in, water stays out. Fishies don't know the difference.
Oops, I forgot propulsion. I like double-ended paddles. I had a little rowboat, but didn't like going backwards. Electric trolling motors are cheap, clean, quiet.
Okay, sorry if I gave you buyers' remorse. When you get out on the water, use that parasite for bait. No, that was a joke; no sensible fish would eat that thing.
Happy Eatser.
Seriously, if I'd known you felt the need of a boat, I'd have suggested this earlier. You can make a twelve-footer out of plywood and it'll come in at under 100 pounds (often closer to 50), so you wouldn't even need that trailer. Just shove it up into the bed of your pickup truck (I'm pretty sure you have one of those?) and off to the lake you go.
Free plans all over the 'net. Okay, they're not too closely detailed, but anyone can get the important parts right, right? You stay in, water stays out. Fishies don't know the difference.
Oops, I forgot propulsion. I like double-ended paddles. I had a little rowboat, but didn't like going backwards. Electric trolling motors are cheap, clean, quiet.
Okay, sorry if I gave you buyers' remorse. When you get out on the water, use that parasite for bait. No, that was a joke; no sensible fish would eat that thing.
Happy Eatser.
I was raised by humans. What's your excuse?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Hey Lester, happy Easter right back at ya.
Let me tell you a story about how my brother Karl and I 'built' a wooden boat... It was really great! Made out of scrap stuff to include an old slopping bench we used to stand on to feed the pigs. Ha! We launched that piece of shit in Ashley creek during Spring flooding. Damn near drowned. Boat fell apart. Great memory indeed. I miss my brother, he died of bad stuff but he was the greatest.
Yeah, you're right, I could build a boat, an ark, a spaceship but in this situation I had to buy this particular boat for, ah, lets just say, 'spiritual reasons'.
The old woman I bought if from needed me to buy it for reasons that would confuse most and I needed to buy it to use all the stuff that came with it. Electric trolling motor, two fairly new car batteries, a nice 15 hp motor, anchor, fish finder, nets, dollys, shit, the list is endless and if I take it all out with me on the 'maiden' cruise, the boat will do like when I was a kid. Sink, and then fall apart, or, fall apart and sink.
The boat is called, Dufur. (I like to think of it as, the old dufur). It is distinctively ugly and much like my appearance and the way I dress, plus I'll never get a haircut again, damn, it fits me like a glove. It will definitely be the ugliest boat in about half the states, if not all.
In case anyone is interested, some mariners consider changing a boats name to bring bad luck. And along that line of thought, banana's are a, "no, no..." Ha! Back when I was in Alaska and doing charters for halibut and salmon, me and my partner would munch on banana's just to piss the other skippers off. And one day I was eating a banana, I caught my biggest halibut, which was not too bad and will only grow larger as I lie my ass off telling the story. I think it currently is up to ten feet long and weighed more than a small VW Beetle.
As for the parasite, in case you did not know, it has a strong sexual attraction to dolphins. The thing is very perverted, but you know what? That little fucker is my best friend indeed, well, as long as it stays out of my potato chip stash and does not dribble drool on my head when I'm sleeping.
Thanks for checking in Lester.
Let me tell you a story about how my brother Karl and I 'built' a wooden boat... It was really great! Made out of scrap stuff to include an old slopping bench we used to stand on to feed the pigs. Ha! We launched that piece of shit in Ashley creek during Spring flooding. Damn near drowned. Boat fell apart. Great memory indeed. I miss my brother, he died of bad stuff but he was the greatest.
Yeah, you're right, I could build a boat, an ark, a spaceship but in this situation I had to buy this particular boat for, ah, lets just say, 'spiritual reasons'.
The old woman I bought if from needed me to buy it for reasons that would confuse most and I needed to buy it to use all the stuff that came with it. Electric trolling motor, two fairly new car batteries, a nice 15 hp motor, anchor, fish finder, nets, dollys, shit, the list is endless and if I take it all out with me on the 'maiden' cruise, the boat will do like when I was a kid. Sink, and then fall apart, or, fall apart and sink.
The boat is called, Dufur. (I like to think of it as, the old dufur). It is distinctively ugly and much like my appearance and the way I dress, plus I'll never get a haircut again, damn, it fits me like a glove. It will definitely be the ugliest boat in about half the states, if not all.
In case anyone is interested, some mariners consider changing a boats name to bring bad luck. And along that line of thought, banana's are a, "no, no..." Ha! Back when I was in Alaska and doing charters for halibut and salmon, me and my partner would munch on banana's just to piss the other skippers off. And one day I was eating a banana, I caught my biggest halibut, which was not too bad and will only grow larger as I lie my ass off telling the story. I think it currently is up to ten feet long and weighed more than a small VW Beetle.
As for the parasite, in case you did not know, it has a strong sexual attraction to dolphins. The thing is very perverted, but you know what? That little fucker is my best friend indeed, well, as long as it stays out of my potato chip stash and does not dribble drool on my head when I'm sleeping.
Thanks for checking in Lester.
-
Lester Curtis
- Long Fiction Editor
- Posts: 2736
- Joined: January 11, 2010, 12:03:56 AM
- Location: by the time you read this, I'll be somewhere else
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Okay, no buyer's remorse for you then. That's good.
There are people who spend a good portion of their free time (because no one would pay them for this) designing and building boats made of cardboard. They have big competitions and everything where the boat has to stay together some particular distance. They have people in real boats to pick up the losers.
I think I saw your halibut in a movie; it was eating a submarine or something, maybe a battleship. Heroic. Epic, even.
Keep having fun--not that you need me to tell you to.
There are people who spend a good portion of their free time (because no one would pay them for this) designing and building boats made of cardboard. They have big competitions and everything where the boat has to stay together some particular distance. They have people in real boats to pick up the losers.
I think I saw your halibut in a movie; it was eating a submarine or something, maybe a battleship. Heroic. Epic, even.
Keep having fun--not that you need me to tell you to.
I was raised by humans. What's your excuse?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Have you seen the recent commercials on the telly regarding the 'magic' goop that seals everything? Some crazy guy cut a boat in half and used the product to tape the two halves together and dash across the water... I almost fell for the , "Only $19.95 and if you act within the next ten seconds, we'll throw another one in for free."
Of course I didn't fall for it as I remember falling for an old McDonald's ad for a burger, fries and soda for something like $1.95. Needless to say I've had more of a dinner chewing on my finger nails.
Oh, yeah, pretty sure you saw the halibut Lester. The footage actually was going to be included in the new King Kong movie but was cut because the directors did not want to make their monkey look small.
thanks for dropping in. And now, as inspired by working in a field of mud today.
***
Septic Tank
Rain fell hard from a sky in love with gray. For days now, months actually, rain, snow, and mud.
He was a man of Spanish lineage and the wrinkles on his wet face matched the wrinkles in the low hanging clouds scurrying across the sky. His clothing showed it matched the color of the slippery clay that he had been sliding on, covering every exposed piece of cloth.
On his feet the water muck boots were heavy as they too, were more than sticky, clay clinging to the bottoms and side.
Hour after hour the drops fell and splashed and hour after hour the man toiled in labor. He worked not so much for money to live but for money to buy his favorite vice, cigarettes. Specifically, American brands.
As his day ended there was no dryness to be found. His gray hair was mud covered and slick. His clothes, his skin, everything was drenched to the point of there being no hope for ever becoming dry again.
Reaching his soiled hand into his right breast pocket, the man took out a small plastic wrapped pack of cigarettes. Actually, the package now contained only one cigarette. It was his last one until he got paid for working in the mud.
Carefully he ignited his lighter and with the flame brushing the tip, he inhaled deeply.
"Ahh..." the only word the man spoke all day as he preferred not speaking, only working, only enjoying the pleasures of smoking.
As the rain still continued to fall, a piece of hot ember/ash fell from the almost finished cigarette. It sizzled as it fell on the wet pants. On the mans face, despite the hard day, smiled as he exhaled his last puff of his last cigarette. Maybe tomorrow he would get paid and he could then purchase another pack.
Of course I didn't fall for it as I remember falling for an old McDonald's ad for a burger, fries and soda for something like $1.95. Needless to say I've had more of a dinner chewing on my finger nails.
Oh, yeah, pretty sure you saw the halibut Lester. The footage actually was going to be included in the new King Kong movie but was cut because the directors did not want to make their monkey look small.
thanks for dropping in. And now, as inspired by working in a field of mud today.
***
Septic Tank
Rain fell hard from a sky in love with gray. For days now, months actually, rain, snow, and mud.
He was a man of Spanish lineage and the wrinkles on his wet face matched the wrinkles in the low hanging clouds scurrying across the sky. His clothing showed it matched the color of the slippery clay that he had been sliding on, covering every exposed piece of cloth.
On his feet the water muck boots were heavy as they too, were more than sticky, clay clinging to the bottoms and side.
Hour after hour the drops fell and splashed and hour after hour the man toiled in labor. He worked not so much for money to live but for money to buy his favorite vice, cigarettes. Specifically, American brands.
As his day ended there was no dryness to be found. His gray hair was mud covered and slick. His clothes, his skin, everything was drenched to the point of there being no hope for ever becoming dry again.
Reaching his soiled hand into his right breast pocket, the man took out a small plastic wrapped pack of cigarettes. Actually, the package now contained only one cigarette. It was his last one until he got paid for working in the mud.
Carefully he ignited his lighter and with the flame brushing the tip, he inhaled deeply.
"Ahh..." the only word the man spoke all day as he preferred not speaking, only working, only enjoying the pleasures of smoking.
As the rain still continued to fall, a piece of hot ember/ash fell from the almost finished cigarette. It sizzled as it fell on the wet pants. On the mans face, despite the hard day, smiled as he exhaled his last puff of his last cigarette. Maybe tomorrow he would get paid and he could then purchase another pack.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Inspired by two things. First, read in the paper about a university prof suing Walmart because the employee put, 'toilet cleaner' for the prof's profession. How true! Apparently prof's have no sense of humor, being dicks and all.
Next, I watched video about an alligator latching onto an elephant trying to drink water at a river. The croc held on while getting swung all around. It was not until the bull of the herd took matters into hand (trunk actually). Nice example of the herd protecting the herd. And so, some morning inspiration.
***
The herd
He cleaned toilets daily. Nice toilets with expensive fixtures set in a brightly lit room of many residing in the prestigious Harvard University. He did other services also such as mopping the floors, washing windows, and in general was a private in the army of janitorial services.
Another man, a most intelligent and well papered pedigree of knowledge, taught young minds about the mysteries of the human brain. He was very smart indeed and he let the whole world know it. In general, he was a commanding general and very proud of himself.
Both men lived in two worlds. Both had their respective herds. Both existed to be what they were. One, menial labor. The other advanced knowledge.
It is interesting in a world that both lived in. Could one herd live without the other? Could the world live without people understanding the mysteries of the brain? For that matter, could the world live without those who fix, maintain, and clean?
One day the man who cleaned toilets was sick. Not only was he ill but all his fellow herd members were ill. They were stricken with a disease so severe it would be many days until fit for work again. Needless to say, but I'll say it anyway as then what point would there be to write this story, the University started to look filthy.
Overflowing trash bins, muddy floors, windows becoming dark and dim. In the bathrooms, stench of plugged toilets and spilled urine dried on the floor puddled on the floor. The once brightly lit and clean rooms now were becoming places where germs thrived.
Soon, the students and professors became ill also, some even died. Meanwhile, outside the buildings of filth and sickness, birds flew in the clean air and spiders worked their wonders, completely oblivious to the sickness of mankind.
Next, I watched video about an alligator latching onto an elephant trying to drink water at a river. The croc held on while getting swung all around. It was not until the bull of the herd took matters into hand (trunk actually). Nice example of the herd protecting the herd. And so, some morning inspiration.
***
The herd
He cleaned toilets daily. Nice toilets with expensive fixtures set in a brightly lit room of many residing in the prestigious Harvard University. He did other services also such as mopping the floors, washing windows, and in general was a private in the army of janitorial services.
Another man, a most intelligent and well papered pedigree of knowledge, taught young minds about the mysteries of the human brain. He was very smart indeed and he let the whole world know it. In general, he was a commanding general and very proud of himself.
Both men lived in two worlds. Both had their respective herds. Both existed to be what they were. One, menial labor. The other advanced knowledge.
It is interesting in a world that both lived in. Could one herd live without the other? Could the world live without people understanding the mysteries of the brain? For that matter, could the world live without those who fix, maintain, and clean?
One day the man who cleaned toilets was sick. Not only was he ill but all his fellow herd members were ill. They were stricken with a disease so severe it would be many days until fit for work again. Needless to say, but I'll say it anyway as then what point would there be to write this story, the University started to look filthy.
Overflowing trash bins, muddy floors, windows becoming dark and dim. In the bathrooms, stench of plugged toilets and spilled urine dried on the floor puddled on the floor. The once brightly lit and clean rooms now were becoming places where germs thrived.
Soon, the students and professors became ill also, some even died. Meanwhile, outside the buildings of filth and sickness, birds flew in the clean air and spiders worked their wonders, completely oblivious to the sickness of mankind.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Happiness is only a definition away with various descriptions to match the illusion. As with all words, many apply contrasting opinions/feelings as to what a word is, or has meanings pertaining to them.
For the woman named Chris, for her happiness was elusive.
***
Her life was hard. Raised in a strict family of obsolete moral codes, she accepted whatever the sunrise gave and the setting sun took away.
Sleep. Work. Eat. Until, one day she matured and left her family only to join another by marrying Bill. Bill too, was raised in a strict family of obsolete moral codes and carried the experiences in his mind much as a nerd carries a pocket organizer and a sexual player carries condoms.
Both Chris and Bill were miserable. They both raised a miserable family and raised their children with the well sanctioned and approved moral codes.
One day, while Bill was harrowing a field, getting it ready to plant, he clutched his chest in pain and keeled over dead. A heart attack ended his life.
This tragedy was normal and acceptable in a world living with obsolete moral codes.
With family by her side. Dressed in black. Watching Bills casket being lowered into the gaping hole in the soil, the moment was a solemn one.
As Chris turned to walk away, she noticed another woman looking at her. A lovely woman with a smile. Something inside Chris stirred. Something she had never experienced before. She returned the smile and felt something else she had not felt before. Happiness.
For the woman named Chris, for her happiness was elusive.
***
Her life was hard. Raised in a strict family of obsolete moral codes, she accepted whatever the sunrise gave and the setting sun took away.
Sleep. Work. Eat. Until, one day she matured and left her family only to join another by marrying Bill. Bill too, was raised in a strict family of obsolete moral codes and carried the experiences in his mind much as a nerd carries a pocket organizer and a sexual player carries condoms.
Both Chris and Bill were miserable. They both raised a miserable family and raised their children with the well sanctioned and approved moral codes.
One day, while Bill was harrowing a field, getting it ready to plant, he clutched his chest in pain and keeled over dead. A heart attack ended his life.
This tragedy was normal and acceptable in a world living with obsolete moral codes.
With family by her side. Dressed in black. Watching Bills casket being lowered into the gaping hole in the soil, the moment was a solemn one.
As Chris turned to walk away, she noticed another woman looking at her. A lovely woman with a smile. Something inside Chris stirred. Something she had never experienced before. She returned the smile and felt something else she had not felt before. Happiness.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Finally, some sun today. Felt like a lizard on a rock while working today. Great.
Inspired by the mule deer today. They are definitely fun to watch, especially the young ones.
In case you did not know, unlike whitetail deer running away with their tale in the air, the muleys bounce away like kangaroo's. So, today, they chased each other bouncing like hair covered springs. Of course they were showing off.
In the middle of the day, a yearling walked slowly by me making a pathetic meowing sound. I laughed as the does are getting ready to give birth and kicked this youngster out of the nest.
I talked with it while laughing. It got no pity from me while providing me with great entertainment. Eventually, it found others in like situation and they all started bouncing around like beach balls again.
And so, inspiration.
***
Youngsters are born to play.
Endless energy to spare they - zoom, zoom, zoom...
So much energy it sometimes drives old creatures
nuts.
Calves torture their mothers while squeezing through the fence
Baby birds fall out of their nest
Minnows dart and get eaten
Chicks get free rides to dinner, underneath a hawk...
Shit!
I thought it was great to be born to play.
Seems though, like life sucks.
Really though, youngsters are born to play
to learn
to be
and given each, a chance.
A chance to grow up and be
A chance to mate and create
But when young? Who gives a fuck.
When young, there is endless energy, endless days of play and living
leaving for tomorrow the fear of life, of growing old,
such is the joy of
being young.
Inspired by the mule deer today. They are definitely fun to watch, especially the young ones.
In case you did not know, unlike whitetail deer running away with their tale in the air, the muleys bounce away like kangaroo's. So, today, they chased each other bouncing like hair covered springs. Of course they were showing off.
In the middle of the day, a yearling walked slowly by me making a pathetic meowing sound. I laughed as the does are getting ready to give birth and kicked this youngster out of the nest.
I talked with it while laughing. It got no pity from me while providing me with great entertainment. Eventually, it found others in like situation and they all started bouncing around like beach balls again.
And so, inspiration.
***
Youngsters are born to play.
Endless energy to spare they - zoom, zoom, zoom...
So much energy it sometimes drives old creatures
nuts.
Calves torture their mothers while squeezing through the fence
Baby birds fall out of their nest
Minnows dart and get eaten
Chicks get free rides to dinner, underneath a hawk...
Shit!
I thought it was great to be born to play.
Seems though, like life sucks.
Really though, youngsters are born to play
to learn
to be
and given each, a chance.
A chance to grow up and be
A chance to mate and create
But when young? Who gives a fuck.
When young, there is endless energy, endless days of play and living
leaving for tomorrow the fear of life, of growing old,
such is the joy of
being young.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
S.
The stove door opened to reveal a hungry coal bed. During the night the oak firewood had released enough heat to hold off the bitter cold of the harsh Minnesota winter. Now in a diminished state, the stove begged for more wood as stoves in such a cold climate always need more wood.
Stirring the embers, an old man placed smaller pieces of dry spruce and closed the heavy cast iron door until only a crack showed. This crack allowed a strong draft of air to excite the fire into burning brightly. After a few minutes the spruce kindling was snapping and crackling letting the man know the stove was now ready for the larger oak pieces.
Soon, the room gained a nice warm feeling with the stove heat causing the tea kettle placed on top of the stove to whistle. With steaming whistling from the stem, blowing hot steam to let the man know it was time for both the warming of the skin and the warming of the belly.
Sitting at an old hand-hewn table, the man looked outside and saw the morning breeze carry the smoke wafting from atop the chimney. White smoke weaving above the lilac bushes barren of all life and would remain so until winter gave way to warmer weather.
Sipping the hot tea now well seeped, the man enjoyed the smell of tree pitch, smoke, warmth, and tea. Beside him curled on the floor lay his trusted friend, Alpo, a mutt of varying pedigree and one completely at peace soaking up the warmth from the fire.
Simple times. Simple comforts. Simple pleasures. Simple life. So it is.
The stove door opened to reveal a hungry coal bed. During the night the oak firewood had released enough heat to hold off the bitter cold of the harsh Minnesota winter. Now in a diminished state, the stove begged for more wood as stoves in such a cold climate always need more wood.
Stirring the embers, an old man placed smaller pieces of dry spruce and closed the heavy cast iron door until only a crack showed. This crack allowed a strong draft of air to excite the fire into burning brightly. After a few minutes the spruce kindling was snapping and crackling letting the man know the stove was now ready for the larger oak pieces.
Soon, the room gained a nice warm feeling with the stove heat causing the tea kettle placed on top of the stove to whistle. With steaming whistling from the stem, blowing hot steam to let the man know it was time for both the warming of the skin and the warming of the belly.
Sitting at an old hand-hewn table, the man looked outside and saw the morning breeze carry the smoke wafting from atop the chimney. White smoke weaving above the lilac bushes barren of all life and would remain so until winter gave way to warmer weather.
Sipping the hot tea now well seeped, the man enjoyed the smell of tree pitch, smoke, warmth, and tea. Beside him curled on the floor lay his trusted friend, Alpo, a mutt of varying pedigree and one completely at peace soaking up the warmth from the fire.
Simple times. Simple comforts. Simple pleasures. Simple life. So it is.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Hit my head on the corner of some metal roofing today. I actually laughed as I fell to the ground with the body bordering on unconsciousness. Pain is such a constant, reliable feeling while being trapped on this shithole planet. Painful, but, inspirational.
***
Scar
Hayhook in the head - scar
Broken glass water bottle to the knee - scar
Run over by a 48,000 pound bulldozer - cool scar
Steam burns - nice scar
Chainsaw biting deeply into the flesh - an 'oh shit' scar
Dropped on my head in a fight - a stary scar just thinking back about it
High rpm grinder with wood flap disk doing combat with my wrist - wrist scar
Fingers and blades - a mosaic of wonderful scars
Many, many physical activity injuries - the whole fucking body is a living scar
Emotional scars?
None. Not a damn one as the mind only scars when a poor sod lets shit get to them.
Scars are the balance needed to remind and educate. Those without scars are boring inmates indeed.
***
Scar
Hayhook in the head - scar
Broken glass water bottle to the knee - scar
Run over by a 48,000 pound bulldozer - cool scar
Steam burns - nice scar
Chainsaw biting deeply into the flesh - an 'oh shit' scar
Dropped on my head in a fight - a stary scar just thinking back about it
High rpm grinder with wood flap disk doing combat with my wrist - wrist scar
Fingers and blades - a mosaic of wonderful scars
Many, many physical activity injuries - the whole fucking body is a living scar
Emotional scars?
None. Not a damn one as the mind only scars when a poor sod lets shit get to them.
Scars are the balance needed to remind and educate. Those without scars are boring inmates indeed.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
3'x6' are the approximate sizes of the rubber blocks roughly 4" to 6" thick. Embedded inside are tiny wires filled with very high electric charges.
The rubber is a composite of soft, flexible material mixed with an unknown metal alloy. The metal is not of this world and has a density beyond comprehension according to the known laws of physics.
As the electronic charge changes it causes a vibration to the rubber. The metal reacts as the pitch of harmonics changes. This change results in a softening or hardening of the metal.
*
The room was filled with many of the blocks. There is no door as the 'door' is an arbitrary concept. The smell at first is the natural 'rubber tire' smell but the olfactory senses are often fooled by that seeming familiar. Soon the smell becomes ozone tinted with a clay smell.
**
Walking, or rather, floating inside, it becomes apparent the block are not joined or fixed in any particular position. Rather, they rotate and change position every few seconds, or if you prefer, every blink of the eye.
***
Below, were spinning orbs.Changing in color and emitting a varying tone of sound.
The rubber is a composite of soft, flexible material mixed with an unknown metal alloy. The metal is not of this world and has a density beyond comprehension according to the known laws of physics.
As the electronic charge changes it causes a vibration to the rubber. The metal reacts as the pitch of harmonics changes. This change results in a softening or hardening of the metal.
*
The room was filled with many of the blocks. There is no door as the 'door' is an arbitrary concept. The smell at first is the natural 'rubber tire' smell but the olfactory senses are often fooled by that seeming familiar. Soon the smell becomes ozone tinted with a clay smell.
**
Walking, or rather, floating inside, it becomes apparent the block are not joined or fixed in any particular position. Rather, they rotate and change position every few seconds, or if you prefer, every blink of the eye.
***
Below, were spinning orbs.Changing in color and emitting a varying tone of sound.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Hey parasite, wake your ass up. Got somthin to tell ya.
"Hey yourself moron. I've been awake all night watching reruns of Little House on the prairie."
You watch that? That is a feel good show, why would somethin like ya watch that?
"I keep hoping to see one of the kids fall down into the well and drown..."
Of course, parasite. I should have known better. Anyway, got some news for ya. I'm RICH!
"Yeah, and I'm cute and fuzzy. So, tell me, how are you rich?"
I see Nordstroms is selling mud covered jeans with tears for over $400 a pair. Damn. Everything I own is not only covered in mud, but grease, oil, sweat, pee, and some even have blood. I bet I could sell the whole lot for at least $5000.
"Okay. Sure. Whatever gets you through the day you miserable wretch. But if you do score on the sales, don't forget me. We are running low on tofu and fig newton cookies."
Nope. Gonna go buy new jeans at Costco and condition them with actual work. I'm thinking my ship has come home, I'm gonna be rich I tell ya, RICH!
(the parasite just rolled it's many eyes, burped and went to sleep as it was raining outside and it had run out of Little House on the Praire DVD's)
"Hey yourself moron. I've been awake all night watching reruns of Little House on the prairie."
You watch that? That is a feel good show, why would somethin like ya watch that?
"I keep hoping to see one of the kids fall down into the well and drown..."
Of course, parasite. I should have known better. Anyway, got some news for ya. I'm RICH!
"Yeah, and I'm cute and fuzzy. So, tell me, how are you rich?"
I see Nordstroms is selling mud covered jeans with tears for over $400 a pair. Damn. Everything I own is not only covered in mud, but grease, oil, sweat, pee, and some even have blood. I bet I could sell the whole lot for at least $5000.
"Okay. Sure. Whatever gets you through the day you miserable wretch. But if you do score on the sales, don't forget me. We are running low on tofu and fig newton cookies."
Nope. Gonna go buy new jeans at Costco and condition them with actual work. I'm thinking my ship has come home, I'm gonna be rich I tell ya, RICH!
(the parasite just rolled it's many eyes, burped and went to sleep as it was raining outside and it had run out of Little House on the Praire DVD's)
-
Lester Curtis
- Long Fiction Editor
- Posts: 2736
- Joined: January 11, 2010, 12:03:56 AM
- Location: by the time you read this, I'll be somewhere else
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Wow, I'm missing out on the big bucks. I've been sending my worn-out LL Bean shirts back for free replacement, and I had to pay the shipping.
I was raised by humans. What's your excuse?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
I know, right?
True story: Back when I owned an art gallery a distributor was selling us hats and shirts. We had all sorts of baseball hats and did okay selling them. Typical tourist shit with cute logo's and stuff. However, he showed us some hats that looked they went through a food processor, run over by a tractor, and basically one step beyond total trash... He was such a good salesman I purchased about 12. They all sold in less than a week.
This world sure is a crazy one indeed!
And inspirational
*
Just Be
Everyone pretending...
Not me.
"Talk properly" says the liar and hypocrites
I swear like a fucking sailor and spend money like a sailor on leave in the Philippines.
"Oh, I love you..." so many shitheads say while fucking some other lady.
Not me.
Everyone pretends to be something, anything, anything at all except
for what they are.
Not me.
I will never be what this world wants,
why?
Because that's not me.
Wearing dirty jeans, dirty shirts, dirty hair, no money in my pocket, never pretending, saying like it is, keeping my fucked up standards of honesty, writing as I feel, eating what I want, complaining, farting, picking my nose, petting the dog...
yep, I don't want to be anything other than what I am,
me...
True story: Back when I owned an art gallery a distributor was selling us hats and shirts. We had all sorts of baseball hats and did okay selling them. Typical tourist shit with cute logo's and stuff. However, he showed us some hats that looked they went through a food processor, run over by a tractor, and basically one step beyond total trash... He was such a good salesman I purchased about 12. They all sold in less than a week.
This world sure is a crazy one indeed!
And inspirational
*
Just Be
Everyone pretending...
Not me.
"Talk properly" says the liar and hypocrites
I swear like a fucking sailor and spend money like a sailor on leave in the Philippines.
"Oh, I love you..." so many shitheads say while fucking some other lady.
Not me.
Everyone pretends to be something, anything, anything at all except
for what they are.
Not me.
I will never be what this world wants,
why?
Because that's not me.
Wearing dirty jeans, dirty shirts, dirty hair, no money in my pocket, never pretending, saying like it is, keeping my fucked up standards of honesty, writing as I feel, eating what I want, complaining, farting, picking my nose, petting the dog...
yep, I don't want to be anything other than what I am,
me...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Rain, rain, rain... if this keeps up it will be time to build an ark.
Writing is definitely fun, though some writers complain, which is strange. Why do something you don't enjoy?
One of the things I like to do is draw and once, did a comic strip at the US Embassy in Stockholm while I was a Marine Security Guard.
I wrote/drew a comic strip where the main character is a spider named Fred. If you're even remotely curious check out https://robin-lipinski.com/
Writing is fun. Drawing is fun. Relationships with people are on par with getting eaten by fire ants... so, as you can see, be a writer or artist, you'll be much happier!
And now, as inspired by... "Me Robin. Inspired by me!"
Yes parasite, as you wish, as inspired by you and the rain.
***
Parasite in the Rain
Glug glug glug
gasp
gurgle
wheeze.
Help
I'm drowning
Please stop...
No, not again
Glug glug glug
gasp
gurgle
wheeze.
Robin, you're a... Ack, glug, glug, gasp...
*
Yep, writing a poem while drowning the parasite was truly enjoyable.
Makes the rain much more enjoyable indeed.
Writing is definitely fun, though some writers complain, which is strange. Why do something you don't enjoy?
One of the things I like to do is draw and once, did a comic strip at the US Embassy in Stockholm while I was a Marine Security Guard.
I wrote/drew a comic strip where the main character is a spider named Fred. If you're even remotely curious check out https://robin-lipinski.com/
Writing is fun. Drawing is fun. Relationships with people are on par with getting eaten by fire ants... so, as you can see, be a writer or artist, you'll be much happier!
And now, as inspired by... "Me Robin. Inspired by me!"
Yes parasite, as you wish, as inspired by you and the rain.
***
Parasite in the Rain
Glug glug glug
gasp
gurgle
wheeze.
Help
I'm drowning
Please stop...
No, not again
Glug glug glug
gasp
gurgle
wheeze.
Robin, you're a... Ack, glug, glug, gasp...
*
Yep, writing a poem while drowning the parasite was truly enjoyable.
Makes the rain much more enjoyable indeed.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Generally thought is code with word
Words formulated with articulation
Verbalized, written
all from thought.
Biologic matter forms the brain
Electric pathways
A blink
A wink
A slap...
What happens when a thinking robot first makes an inappropriate comment?
Probably all the other robots will laugh.
Words formulated with articulation
Verbalized, written
all from thought.
Biologic matter forms the brain
Electric pathways
A blink
A wink
A slap...
What happens when a thinking robot first makes an inappropriate comment?
Probably all the other robots will laugh.