Free Writing 12/5/2013

Pepper your thoughts with rubbish.
That's what I do every day.
Don't listen to the gibbering masses.
They'll lead you astray anyway.

A long dither 'bout whether she blathered o'er here, thither, or home.

She cried and cried, and cried some more.
The sound was awful, I can say.
She did this because her daddy died,
And how she was never going to be okay.

So silently solemn, I soothed succinctly soliloquys searching her soul's sorrow.

But never enough, she yelled at me
Words and words, never hearing nay
Insisting on the importance of and
Reminding me the things her father would say,

"Look at you, you useless lump, a son I always wanted.
You've ruined my life, with your feminine strife,
So take these words that ne'er shall be blunted."

And with evil words spent, her mind in disrepair
Her stubborness immune to any sway,
"Tonight I'll end it all, with the point of a knife,
And sing heavenly praises most gay."

And that was the fucking end.

Free Writing 12/1/2013

"I got nothing," he said, putting the cards down as a couple of laughs sounded across the table. He stared at the two laughing, laughing at some only half-funny joke before he cleared his throat and said, "In other words, I fold."

"Oh, sorry," Elizabeth said, looking at Ronnie's now abandoned hand. She looked at her hand and then said, "I guess I fold too." She laid her cards down, the ghost of her laughter holding strong as a leftover grin.

"Then I win!" Sam happily reached out and grabbed the stack of chips at the center of the table, though Ronnie suspected that his happiness, like Elizabeth's, was from the laughter they had been sharing. Still, he seemed to have no problem bringing the pile in front of himself. "I'm usually never this lucky."

A silence passed as suddenly both Elizabeth and Sam's lips were held in contained laughter. But, before long, they held it no more and the laughter broke out, the result of some joke that Ronnie apparently was not privy to. He looked between the two of them, wondering if there was something specific about anything anyone said that was funny, or if they just happened to be so far along in the near delirious laughs that everything spoken brought out a fit of giggles.

"I'm sorry no one else bothered to show. Kind of sucks it's just us," Ronnie said.

"No, this is great!" Elizabeth said with a big smile. She added, "This is a lot of fun." Sam didn't add anything, himself, though he nodded in solid agreement with Elizabeth.

"Good, I'm glad." Ronnie looked down at the cards that constituted his hand, all face down on the table. "Cards aren't usually my strong suit."

(This is normal Free Writing, but I think I'm actually going to continue this little story. I like the three characters, I like the implied dynamic, and I like the awkwardness. More from these three tomorrow!)

Free Writing 11/30/2013

(Free writing! With typos, of course.)

Don't touch the tree
That's where he died

But who died?
What's his name?

He went by Chuck
At times Charles

Was he nice?
Did he love?

More than you know
More than I can

What happened?
Why'd he die?

Too much life lived
But heed too late

You miss him?
Does it hurt?

I admire him
Can't live the same

Given up?
Just too much?

I cannot tell
I will not know

Least he saw.

Yes.

(Poetry is not my strong suit. But I enjoy sorting let the occasional transform into a specific structure of words. In this case, a fictional character named Charles is remembered for living life, but not living with any sense of caution.)

Daily Free Writing 11/29/2013

(Note from me: Just typical free writing randomness from me. Gets the creative energy going. Only now, I've decided to start posting them. For no other reason than.... I don't know. Whatever. There will be typos. And, from now on, when I post these little free writing exercises, I'll try to explain them and my inspiration after I'm done, especially for the shorter ones.)

NEEDS

Listen, I know my boyfriend told me not to call. I mean, he said, very specifically, that he didn't need to talk to me right now. That it was a time for family. That he needed to see to their needs before worrying about everything or anything else.

And I totally understand. His family just suffered a loss. A big one. I'm not sure how I would handle losing someone or being in that situation. But, I totally get it. He needs to be with his family. Though, I have to admit, since we haven't been talking very much in the past few weeks, I really felt like maybe he should have said more to me than, "It's okay. I'll be fine. I just need to spend time with my family."

I mean, I AM his girlfriend.

Well, not officially anymore. But I figure it's jut one of those times where we needed to be apart. You know. Space. Space is good for couples.

But he neeeeeeeds me. I know he does. He said as much. Not with his actual words, no. But because I could just tell. Through his words. In his text messages. He told me he didn't need me to come and see him. But what he really means is that I should go and see him.

That's what he needs. He needs me right now. Needs me in his time of loss. I know he does. I know because I need him, too.

(The inspiration for this little bit of free writing was something that actually happened a number of years ago. A girl that I had once dated, then later became 'friends' with, started dating somebody completely different.

He was a pretty good guy. Stable. Smart. Very mature. This girl was the opposite of these things. She blew through money like there was no tomorrow. She was insecure and constantly rationalized everything. She said 'you know what I mean?' a lot. It got old.

Somehow, though, she landed this really great guy. Eventually, her insecurities were so bad, she broke up with him. Not because there was any drama. There wasn't. But she started perceiving that something was wrong, so she called off their relationship.

Not long after that, he suffered a terrible tragedy in his family. Naturally distraught, he was spending time with his family.

She, in her amazing glory, started IM'ing me, wondering if she should go see him, even though he repeatedly told her he didn't need her there. To this day, I wish I could have instilled in her that her even asking the question made her the worst person in the world. People had died, and she was turning the whole thing into something about her.

I was already pretty done with her at the time. But even more so after that. I don't hate is a strong enough turn.

And sorry for the shorter free writing. With free writing, I'm at the mercy of my emotional pulls.)

Free Writing 8

Much to do.
Much
To
Do.
But where is the time
To do it all?

I find the time
All around me
     But I filled it
     With my visions of fancy.
I've wasted the opportunity to do what's right
By throwing away chance for desire.

So please, oh, please, can I have a little more time
To pull myself out of these waters so murky
And do what I should have done all along.

Free Writing 7

Nothing can be saved. Nothing will be found.
Please let me know why you don't stick around.

You can see,
                    I cannot,
                   Apathy
Makes me rot.

Withering junkies, bloated egoists
Self-destruction masks for marital bliss.

I can see
              Your li'l lie.
              Fooled me once,
Now I'll die.

The path was split, but you said it was whole.
Our sad undoing was your only role.

Hearts are dead.
              I can't see
              Broken thoughts
Sent to me.

It is he whom you have clearly chosen,
But it's I whose heart is dearly frozen.

Bloody blade,
                  Quickly slashed.
                  I know I've
Acted rash.

Dry those tears that stain your beautiful face.
All time passes, regardless of our place.

Deep breaths won't
                   Help you live.
                   You've giv'n all
You can give.

I'll say my goodbyes with a slight regret.
But nowhere near your great and sinful debt.

Close those eyes,
                     Just let go.
                     Have fun in
Hell below.





This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Cycles of Death, Part 4

PART THREE

[Exit MARY]

DOUG:
                                         But that's not
What I want. There are so many great things
About you, Mary. But sometimes I don't
Think you see it. Sometimes, I think you let
All the bad things and all the bad people
Affect you. I do dream, Mary. But not
Of fantastic places or near perfect
Ideas. I dream of you, and of myself
Standing at opposite ends of a long
Hallway, impossibly long, a gap that
Lies between us, impossible to cross.
You don't see it, but I always will. It's
My ever-present reality, a
Constant vision, a truth that I cannot
Deny. Static, stuck, stimying the wish
I hold closest to my heart. But you can't
See how much I hold you dear. But I won't
Stop trying. I won't stop until you see
How much I love you.

[Enter THE VOICE]

THE VOICE:
                                 You must let her bloom
On her own. She needs to grow. She needs her
Chance to be her own person.

DOUG:
                                              I can't change
How I feel. I can't stop my love. Why can't
I know the joy of love, of someone who
Will be there with me. Mary is great. She
is an angel, beautiful, wonderful,
All that I could ever want.

THE VOICE:
                                     But that must
Wait. She needs time. You need to be patient.
Give her this and you'll have a chance.

DOUG:
                                                        But I
Need more than a chance. I think if it is
Between another and me, I'll fail. I
Have waited so long for her. She was with
Eric. I was patient then. But now he's
Gone and I'm supposed to wait more. How
Long? How long do I have to wait? Will she
Ever see me as I see her? It's not
Fair that I have to wait. Eric never
Deserved her. Don't I deserve this chance?

THE VOICE
                                                            You
Can't force it. You'll lose yourself just as she
Might get lost. She needs a friend right now. Not
More pressure.

DOUG:
                       I've waited so long. Life's not
Worth living without her.



This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Cycles of Death, Part 3

PART TWO

[Exit ROBERT, Enter DOUG]

DOUG:
Mary. I called you earlier, but there
Was no answer. I was hoping to see
You later. Mary, you're quiet? Are you
Okay?

MARY:
           Doug, do you dream often?

DOUG:
                                                     I don't
Often remember them.

MARY:
                                    I always do.
I see so much in my dreams. How nice it
Would be to walk around them. To see, to
Touch and feel this fake world as though it
Were real, as though it were a place one could
Live forever.

DOUG:
                   I've never thought of it.

MARY:
I imagine my own perfect world.
A place just for me to be free and 'live.
No dismay, no despair. Freedom, pure joy.
All the things I could ever want.

DOUG:
                                                That's
All you want?

MARY:
                  I'm speaking in broad strokes, Doug.
Those are the general things that I think
Everyone wants.

DOUG:
                          That's true.

MARY:
                                           Don't you want to
Live in such a world? Don't you want to
See a true fantasy? Don't you want to
Know this kind of perfection?

DOUG:
                                              Sure.

MARY:                                           But it
Can't ever be truly perfect, can it?
Our thoughts will always get in the way of
Our ability to find our pers'nal
Utopia. No matter how much we
Look for that bright path, we'll only find the
Shadow.

DOUG:
              Sometimes we need a guide. Someone
To help us find the way when we've lost it.

MARY:
I don't know if I'll ever find that sort
Of guide again.

DOUG:
                      You miss Eric?

MARY:
                                              I do.
And my father. Instead, I have Robert,
The dreg who puts his sick spell on my mom.
She's innocent, sweet, and knows only love.
But this monster, this cretin with no sense
Of morals or justice, exploits her and
Uses her for what she has. He only
Loves the material.

DOUG:
                            You're not alone.
I mean, you have me. I'll always be here
When you need me. I mean, someone. I won't
Ever leave you alone if you need a
Person to be with.

MARY:
                            Thank you, Doug.

DOUG:
                                                        I'm here.

MARY:
You'll always be my best friend.



This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Cycles of Death, Part 2

PART ONE

[Exit THE VOICE, Enter ROBERT]

ROBERT:
                 Mary, are you here?
Mary? I have been looking for you. Where
Are you, girl? Where have you been? Ah, I
See you now.

MARY:
                    I've just been thinking.

ROBERT:
                                                      Mary,
You shouldn't run like that, your mother is
Worried sick. What would I tell her should you
Be lost or hurt.

MARY:
                       I don't know. I guess you'd
Have her to yourself after all this time.

ROBERT:
Young lady, that's enough! I put up with
Your bullshit every day. Your mother might
Think you in need of guidance, but I know
That your just a manipulative li'l
Bitch.

MARY:
         But, Robert, or perhaps I should call
You father, since that's the job you've taken,
It's not manipulation since I can
See that you really deserve it. No more
Pretenses dear step-father.

ROBERT:
                                          Oh, Mary,
Don't think for a moment that you have a
Chance of getting me out your mother's
Life. She wants me here, to take that awful
Job you so happily mock me with. You
Can't have the life you miss so much, but you
Will know a good and honest punishment.
I'll make sure you're put in your proper place.

MARY:
I know you'll enjoy that. Maybe mother
Never has to find out the man you are.

PART THREE



This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Cycles of Death, Part 1

(Author's note: I'm not entirely sure where this is going. It's more me goofing off, but there is an underlying thought driving it. I will organize it by French Scenes [when characters enter and exit] so keep your eyes out for more.)

MARY:
I dream of lost passions. I dream of life.
I dream of new worlds. I dream of death.
Yet still, I linger here, lost in my thoughts.
Why did you leave me alone? When you left
Here without so much as a second word.

THE VOICE:
Dream not of dreaded sorrow, dear Mary.
Think not of the things you shall never have.
Linger instead on the path in front of
You.

MARY:
       But it is he that I desire. No
Time passes quickly without his voice to
Hear. It is not hard to see my anguish.
Not difficult to understand my pain.
Why do I suffer when I gave it all
To him.

THE VOICE:
           Your soul's rhythm no longer finds
Harmony with his. Now yours is a trip
For you to make on your own, a solo
Act for a lonely heart who must find her
Way back to personal harmony. Dear
Mary, lost and alone, find your way back
To us.

MARY:
          I do see a path before me.
But it is not the only path. Lying
Next to it is a second path, draped in
Shadow, layered with dark, filled with shaded
Emotions that match my own. There's comfort
In that path. The path of light, however,
Is blinding, chaste, naive, and sickening.
It is not a path I can take. Shadows
Can serve as my allies, my companions,
And my friends.

THE VOICE:
                        It's hard to turn away from
That path once you have chosen it. Mary,
Dear Mary, please heed my warning. Take my
Advice and use it as your shield and your
Guide. Dear Mary, fear the shadowed forest
When you cross its borders.

MARY:
                                           The shadow calls.
The shadow calls me.

PART TWO



This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Free Writing 6

GUSS:
Ugh. Your broken body lies sickly still.
Not my fault, yet I know I brought this on
When I decided to go behind your
Back with her. But it's as much your as
Mine, and maybe a little hers.

DIS PATER:
                                             Yet you
Chose to act on base instinct without so
Much as a thought for the consequences.
Look what it has brought to these poor souls. In
One case, a dead man who was once your friend.
In another, a woman wracked with grief
For all that she has lost.

GUSS:
                                    I do not need
Your council father of death.

DIS PATER:
                                            True, this will
Be the second time you ignored my best
Advice.

GUSS:
            I must make my decisions as
I see best. Not rely on the thoughts of
A wretched fallen one who has lost his
Hold over a simple domain.

DIS PATER:
                                            Nothing
Simple about the hold I used to have.
But you'll learn now, won't you?

GUSS:
                                              I fear nothing.

DIS PATER:
You will.

GUSS:
              Never.

DIS PATER:
                          We'll see.

GUSS:
                                          I've heard enough.

Free Writing 5

(This is free writing. It's generally fiction. It's generally nonsensical. If you don't know me, it'll just be weird, and that's fine. I hope you find some entertainment value out of it. If you do know me, please don't read anything into it, because it is nonsensical. Just letting the subconscious fire off random ideas. Again... Fiction.)

(Other note: You need to listen to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKXFX-xXY8c while reading this, because that's what I was listening to when I wrote it.)

I'm trying to talk to you
      It's gleaming.

You pulled away, and that hurt
       It's cool to the touch. I like that.

You pulled away, angrily, and with some showmanship
       I've never used one before.

You're like an only child claiming some moral high ground
       There is power in this.

But we know you don't have any justification
       There's no turning back.

I only hope you're satisfied with the result
       Let's push that on my temple.

I miss the old days, with my old friends
        It's still cool, helps the headache.

I hate that you enjoy making me hurt and want to punish me
        I'll just punish myself.

So that's that now and I wish you the best
        I'll just pull that little trigger.

So here is the goodbye that I give you.
        It's not cool anymore.

Free Writing 4

(This is free writing. It's generally fiction. It's generally nonsensical. If you don't know me, it'll just be weird, and that's fine. I hope you find some entertainment value out of it. If you do know me, please don't read anything into it, because it is nonsensical. Just letting the subconscious fire off random ideas. Again... Fiction.)

I'm not sure, but I clicked 'like' because I
Hoped you'd notice. I know five other guys
Did the same, but you should know mine matters
More because mine has special meaning to
Which I hope you figure out. Words are hard
To express, and when I see that you take
The time to respond to my comment I
Get a little giddy. Don't mistake my
Intentions as trying too hard as I
Don't want to scare you away with my hope
For us. It's all because I can't find much
In expression with words, or without words.

Free Writing 3

(This is free writing. It's generally fiction. It's generally nonsensical. If you don't know me, it'll just be weird, and that's fine. I hope you find some entertainment value out of it. If you do know me, please don't read anything into it, because it is nonsensical. Just letting the subconscious fire off random ideas. Again... Fiction.)

Welcome to my home! You're here, finally.
I'm glad you're here. But we all know the real reason I wanted you here.
Make yourself comfortable. Don't fucking touch anything.
I hope all is well. I know you don't give a shit about me.
Where are my manners? Can I get you a drink? Or maybe my fist?
I've been so busy these past few weeks! Every waking moment with you in my head.
He seems like such a great guy! But we all know he's a cunt.
I'm glad he takes such good care of you. It won't be good enough.
Are you enjoying dinner? Choke on it and die.
How about some dessert? Just let me go and get it.
You better have save some room! Don't look at what's behind my back.
Oh, I'll be careful. It's not too sharp. Don't just love cake?
You need to go? Sit your ass down!
Let me get the door. But I locked it.
Shhhh. Don't scream.













(I'm not gonna lie.... This one was kind of messed up. Sorry.)

The Art of Originality, or "Being Unique is not being you."

If I could give anybody one piece of advice... Don't try to be unique. Be an individual.

I know that runs contrary to what we're taught. That being unique is great. That everyone is unique and that this very thought is what makes the world go round. That being unique and being an individual are the same thing. But what we are actually doing is simply mixing a couple of thoughts and trying to shoehorn them into one ideal. In reality, being individuals and being unique are absolutely two very distinct things.

Being unique seems to be an obsession these days. It's what lead to the hipster movement. It's what leads people to hold disdain for popular movies or other forms of entertainment. "Oh, I loved that song until everyone else started liking it." It leads to pathological liars and idiots that think they introduced the world to a style of music. It's stupid.

Just the other day, I witnessed someone complaining about those memes that have propped up recently, the ones where it usually shows a job at the top, then shows pictures of different elements of society's views of what someone actually does at that job ("what my mom thinks I do" "what my friends think I do"). The person in question was trying to be "nice" about it, basically condescending to all of her followers that they could do better. Ultimately, I agree. But instead of complaining about the posts, I just hid them. Because that's an option on Facebook. Which led me to wonder why she even bothered posting anything about it at all.

And it became obviously fairly quick. I know this person pretty well, and though we don't really speak very much these days, I know her mindset. She was always one of the first to point out annoying trends or things that were rapidly getting popular, and then endlessly discuss them even though she claimed to hold them in the attention of the greatest vitriol. She would say how much she loved songs until they showed up on "Glee" and then would complain that Glee ruined the song. She also hates hipsters, which is ironic because she is one. The thing about hipsters is that they rarely wear that label on purpose.

And it fits in with the idea of being unique. Everyone jumps on memes all the time. They get popular, they have their time in the sun, and, with the exception of extreme rare cases of the truly funny ones, they fade out and are used only on occasion to annoy someone. Or by that guy who can't let things go. Even he's not unique in that regard.

Being unique, or striving for it, leads to extremely artificial emotions and ideas. Not enjoying something because someone else likes it, when you too liked it prior, is idiotic. Complaining that your favorite "indie" song is now going to be known because of "Glee" is idiotic for several reasons: That artist was probably ecstatic that he or she is now going to get some national recognition and more people will be enjoying that artist because of it. Which, in my mind, can only be a good thing.

Oh, but you wanted to be the first to know about that artist. You want everyone to know you liked that artist before they were popular. Exactly what the hell does that accomplish? Striving for that is insane. If you are desperate to make sure your friends know that you introduced them to a band, you really need to reexamine your role in that artist's success. You neither produced the music or did any -mass- distribution. If anything, if your friends just copy your CD, you've contributed to piracy and have taken money out of the artist's pocket, thus eliminating incentive for them to continue producing the music. And if you did convince your friends to buy the music, then your role in this is still small, given for that amount to really matter would mean LOTS of people told their friends, meaning you still aren't the unique little snowflake you fancy yourself to be.

This same person, hater of memes, also once claimed that "being individual" was a fad, being sang about by the likes of Kesha and whoever else. I didn't have the words for it, but even then I subconsciously could see that she, like so many other people, failed to see the distinction between two different philosophies on life. None of those songs were really talking about individuality. They were about being unique and different, and different for the sake of being different, which is ultimately pointless.

I have a good friend that strives for uniqueness. So much so that he's become, for all intents and purposes, a pathological liar. And I love this guy to death, but the stories he tells have gone from cute little embellishments to outright absurd statements. And it's clear where it comes from. His quest for uniqueness comes from a place of low-self esteem, and he feels he has to compensate for his perceived, either consciously or subconsciously, shortcomings with these stories. He's younger than me, but has claimed on more than one occasion as to having a PhD, no simple feat (an understatement.) He's claimed to have performed surgery on people (which I thought required an MD, but I could be mistaken) and has said that he's a black belt in countless martial arts (which actually seems to be a common claim among those with tall tales.)

He knows of my love for film and filmmaking, so he's recently sought to outdo me on that. Now, if there's one thing I know you can't be unique at, it's indie filmmaking. Because there are a lot of us out there. But it's also one of the most supportive communities of creative people so that's quite alright. But this friend has really tried to make it sound like he's great at editing and has edited several films (of which I've never seen.) And that's fine, but combined with some of his more egregious claims and his lack of knowledge of such things as what a reverse shot is or why you don't "cross the line" while shooting, I'm forced to question his claims again.

All because of a pursuit of being unique.

And then there is being an individual. What's the difference? Well, for starters, you're not trying to make decisions about your existence based on the actions or decisions of others. You like a movie? Everyone else does too? Who gives a crap? Like the movie too.

As well, you really learn to appreciate you. You're not trying to fit into anyone else's schemes or ideas. You're not out to impress. You're not trying to make yourself into something that doesn't work for you. You're an individual. Are you similar to others? Sure. But that's not a bad thing. Remember, it sucks to be alone, and one of the most fundamental elements of friendship is sharing joys with like-minded people.

And by the very nature of genetics, you are inherently unique. That should be enough.

So, instead of trying to make it like you introduced the world to dubstep (because you didn't) and caring so much about how you were listening to your favorite band before everyone you knew, maybe just be happy with the fact that you like them. And that should be good enough.