Saying Goodby to AlexSaying Goodby to Alex4 days ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Before I can properly relate this story, you must first know a bit about Alex, my pet fish. So right about now you’re thinking: fish aren’t pets, they’re décor, but I beg to differ, at least in this case. I was working at a major pet supply retailer that also sold fish and we had a significant bank of fish tanks to care for. As one of the few people in the store who knew anything about fish-keeping, it was my job to do the maintenance and ordering.
One day we got in a shipment of live fish and I was “putting them away” after the bags had acclimated to the water temperature and when I got to the African Cichlids, I noticed a type of fish that not only didn’t belong in that bag, it was a fish I’d never seen before! It was green and silver with yellow eyes and a bony-plate for teeth, so I immediately knew it was some kind of little puffer fish, but what kind? Well, I moved it to its own small tank, since puffers are known to eat just about an
To-Do List: January 201504-01-2015 She wakes up to hear the rainTo-Do List: January 20151 month ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
04-01-2015 A hand full of lube
07-01-2015 Missing leather
09-01-2015 Two words are better than three
09-01-2015 The things we do for flapjacks
13-01-2015 The sudden absence of rain
15-01-2015 She sees the world through uv filters
18-01-2015 Breathe through your emotions
18-01-2015 Always crying on trains.
21-01-2015 Jenny. Her name is Jenny.
22-01-2015 So many pretty girls that she's never going to be.
28-01-2015 Bed sheet imprints
A Powerful Preschool ExperienceAs a class, we sat down on a big carpet picturing the United States. I sat down in the middle.A Powerful Preschool Experience2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Our teacher was sitting on a big wooden chair in front of us, somewhere in the Canadian abyss.
She asked us to close our eyes for a minute. Then she asked us, all of us, to say aloud what we saw.
I closed my eyes.
Out of the blackness, I swear I saw shooting stars, the earth, and our shining moon. I saw the entire galaxy.
I let my imagination go wild.
And suddenly, as I was just starting to say these things aloud, I heard from my classmates - "nothing!"
I was shocked. I was silenced.
And I said nothing, too. But I'm not sure it was the correct answer.
My Miniature MemoirAnother flash of bright left me blinking as I ran dizzily round in circles. Beneath me my legs wobbled slightly. I attempted to stabilise myself, though to no avail. It was early in the morning and the bright sunlight hurt my eyes terribly. It crept up past the house and into the garden, occasionally searing my vision each time I came to a full circle. Still I ran, as if the caustic nature of the light hardly bothered me at all.My Miniature Memoir3 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Two pairs of legs were moving around me. Recognising both I attempted to grab onto one of the legs, stumbling as I did so. A hand helpful caught me and assisted me to stand straight.
“Oh, stand still.”
I looked skywards, at the familiar smiling face. Her dark brown eyes were dancing in the light as she grinned down at me. Curious, I stretched my arm out in an attempt to grab them. My reach, however, fell short.
Then I was off again, running as fast as my legs could take me. My freedom was brief, as I was firmly seized, and placed upon a small
Growing PainsThe day I grew roots was a messy collage of sap and broken dreams. I had studied trees in the first and second grade but never realized how close I would grow to becoming one. At that root-growing, fifteen years were in my tree—my deciduous spine, some days more willow than pine—and it was smeared into my canvas that some in the world take pleasure in logging. My father once told me that man cared nothing for forests, for the purity in nature, and in that moment I saw its truth: I was no longer someone I knew, but a girl with handprints on her chest and quiet in the way that I halved myself to die.Growing Pains3 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
In the moments my eyes were closed, it became easier to not see sky-birds, or any possibility of unfolding the shattered pieces to create some semblance of some other whole—or the majority of whatever I was supposedly preordained or fated to become. It was even harder to believe when I was crammed between the clashing intents of beds and windows, just to feel stuck or like
Missouri WinterWinter always brings my thoughts back to Missouri. A flood of images and sensations run through my mind like a river, a thousand moments swirling by to join a lifetime of unshared memories. It hurts, but but not any normal way. It’s not like breaking your leg or having a girl dump you. It’s the pain of sympathy. It’s the pain of walking the same road as a million people before you, through small towns, through fields, and through cities and seeing what they struggled so hard to build. To see the silent factories and the ruined mansions, the anonymous silence of sealed buildings and tombs carved with the names of old families.Missouri Winter2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
It feels important somehow to convey the essence of the experience. I’ll save you time and I’ll skip the usual stories about the bruised pride of the midwest and the long shadow of wealth. Pick any one you want with whatever heroes and villains make sense. I’m after something a little stranger. I could talk about St. Louis and t
RevelationsWe have walked the universe and soared through infinity. We have brought Our wrath on the wicked and innocent alike. With Our whims oceans rise and cities sink. We have condemned kings of the earth to hell and lifted emperors of the galaxies to their empires. With Her fingers She spins starlight. With My voice I birthed the sun. Our decree orders the cosmos and Our sorrows crumple it.Revelations2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
When the sun touches the ground and eats the kingdoms of man, when all is lost, We will call you and you will come. Even the dead will rise. Even the dead will come. We will have descended on your earth and there will be no doubt of Our supremacy.
My presence will eclipse your spirit. My command will be your sole purpose. Hunger like none you have ever felt will consume you. It will sink in your bones and drive your soul.
Only She can still My hand. Though fair and with mercy, She is not will not forgive without penance. Without Her guidance you would be lost, so do not restrict your worship in her honor.
Perfection In Few Forms. And Tired.I.Perfection In Few Forms. And Tired.1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I have drowned myself in the envies. The envy of the girl that parades around in exquisite jewels, of the girl that flaunts her wealth. Of her perfect skin, shimmering in soft light, or of the lovely eyes highlighted by the faint makeup. Of the American-Eagle-wearing supermodel lookalike that struts around the school all day, boys chasing after her. I get tiered of seeing her flip her perfect, straight hair, a straightness I am unable to achieve even with a bunch of creams and irons.
Instead, I have evil curls, ones that frizz and stack and create a silly look like a poodle. I have blue eyes, with an uneven eyelid crease. I got tuck with a lopsided, slightly-yellowed teeth smile, one that never looks good in the photos. I wear Hot Topic, the guys stuff, and get called a whore for it. I don't portray femininity perfectly, and suffer for it.
I envy those that are normal. Those that fly through life without a care. Those girls that made everything so easy-looking, that always
The Unwanted GuestMy Unwanted GuestThe Unwanted Guest1 week ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
They say high school is the best four years of your life. You get to have fun, make new friends, and not have to worry about a single thing. My parents lied to me back then. High school was torture. My unwanted guest intruded my head when I entered the ninth grade. Let's call him Joe.
I tried to ignore Joe at first. I thought he would go away after a while, like the flu or a bad cold. He didn't. It was clear during the first month that my unwanted guest was here to stay. Some days he won't be as noticeable. Some days he would give me headaches. He would constantly interrupt me while I'm looking at myself in the mirror, when a classmate calls me a bad name, and when I'm taking a test or doing homework. He would scream at me, grab me by the throat, and strangle me until I give into what he demands. I try to resist, but I always cave in. H
VadregenyesVadregényesVadregenyes1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Életünk lapjai vérrel vannak írva, nem tollal vagy ceruzával. Így azért elég nehéz, mert a ceruzával vétett hibák kiradírozhatóak, a toll ellenfele pedig a hibajavító, de a vért nem lehet eltüntetni hiába is próbálkoznánk. Milyen különös...papírra vésett vérvörös szavak, cifra ábrák. Azt hiszem, ezek a legőszintébb regények. Semmi túlzás, nincsenek vad fordulatok, csak a színtiszta szürke, üres valóság, melyet igyekszünk kitölteni valahogy, hogy aztán emlékeket formáljunk. Emlékek...nem meghamisítható leképződései a valóságnak, mely egykor volt, most nincs és soha többé nem lesz, így aztán hiába sóvárgunk távolba révedő szemekkel, nem tér v
A life in transitionI dodged the signs for years you see, kept pushing the thoughts out of my mind. I am sure most people do and have in similar respects, fear is typically the main driver for such a thing...burying who you are deep down inside so that know one ever knows.A life in transition4 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I buried these thoughts so deep down, that I largely forgot about them for years. Society pressures people to conform, I thought I escaped that mindset they tried to instill in me. Turns out I duped myself into believing that, and I realize that now. I have come to terms with the fact I was "born" a male...but I wish to be female.
I said born because what sex you are and what gender you are, they are two different things and I realize that now. Fact of the matter is, I'm scared what my family will think. I already suffered a huge backlash via a family member last year, when I told said family member about my conversion from Christianity to Asatru.
I am a coward, I fear reprisal yet again. That family member who practically disowned me a
2015-033 AlchemyPinhole cameras are more alchemy than science.2015-033 Alchemy1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I went prowling on-line today for pinhole exposure calculators, having had a series of badly under and overexposed shots. By rights one ought to be able to compute the f-stop by dividing the effective focal length--the distance from the pinhole to the film--by the diameter of the pinhole and work from there. Unfortunately, the relationships are not linear as exposure times get past a second or two and one has to throw in a "reciprocity-failure" multiplier for longer exposures. Fudge factors rule!
I printed the charts and tucked them into my little book, which will now have to do double duty as journal and exposure record. It will henceforth be the alchemist's journal.
I found a reciprocity fudge factor chart at http://www.instructables.com/id/Design-and-Build-your-own-Pinhole-Camera/step9/Loading-and-Shooting/
I found an exposure calculator at http://www.mrpinhole.com/exposure.php
Today's prompt from http://writealm.com/february-prompts/
Maybe We Are Who We AreMaybe we are who we are. Maybe there is no greatness or worthlessness to the name, butMaybe We Are Who We Are3 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
rather just that one syllable made of two letters and the miracle of our own existence.
Maybe we are who we are. Some predestined coding that we attempt to disguise as a series
of nondiscriminatory 1s and 0s. Maybe the only normal there is hides in the fronts we
show each other. Dig beneath the end curtains and the ‘beginnings’ of humanity and there
Maybe we are who we are. But you cannot express this second-skin hidden beneath layers
of ‘societally appropriate’ and I am slowly swallowing dust in this stuffy attic while
someone else wears my face and smiles through trapdoor teeth. Rapunzel at least had
sunlight, and I wrap arms around knees and wonder if old habits can ever look more than
Maybe we are who we are. And I am sorry that I always fade away. Call it selfishness or
absentmindedness, I don’t mind. Whenever things start to feel like rop
That One Time I did the Thing The dusty blue box peered out from the cluster of shoes, calling softly. “Grandma, what’s this?” I called, pulling it out.That One Time I did the Thing2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
She rushed into the kitchen, almost frantically, as if we’d unearthed a bomb. Noah looked up. “What is it, Mrs.Gonderzik?’ he asked, worried about her behaviour.
The old bat gave a sigh of relief. “It’s just a Ouija board.” I narrowed my eyes. From the way she acted, you’d think we were about to release a pack of angry rhinos on the town,
“Can we play with it?”
I looked at Noah with the burning glare of one thousand suns. “My daddy says we aren’t supposed to play with those,” I hissed.
However, my absolute authority as a nine year old was undermined by the lady more my warden than my grandmother. “As long as you stay on the front porch,” she affirmed, to which Noah let out a cheerfu
My Big Fat Italian Holiday Hard, crusty, Italian bread. Multiple types of pasta. Calamari, salad and... Grape leaves? One of these things is not like the other. One of these things doesn’t belong. This song never hit me when I was growing up, but it pops into my head now, as I write this, looking back at holidays long past. But seriously, what was a Greek appetizer doing at a table laden with Italian fare?My Big Fat Italian Holiday3 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Every year at Christmas when I walked into my grandmother’s house – my dad’s mother that is – I was hit with smells. True, there were people everywhere talking and the colored lights from the tree could be seen in my peripheral vision as I moved further into the cluster of family. But the smells were ever-present and overpowering. My grandmother was Italian and the smells of cooking were to be expected every time we came to visit, holiday or not. Of course, there was already food made when we got there in the late afterno
Legrandzilla Musings #10Besting BulliesLegrandzilla Musings #103 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I have one story you may enjoy, unless you are a bully.
If you are a bully, shame on you. Stop it.
The reason behind most bullying is fear. It is a cowardly occupation.
It is a means to keep the negative attention off yourself by focusing it on a perceived easy target.
It is deplorable, and it betrays a lack of intelligence and character.
So here is a story for you.
We called them the "Woods Brothers" I am sure they had first names, but they were always together and always looking for trouble. That is the only title I remember of them.
The younger brother was a couple years younger and quite smaller than me. The older brother was a year younger and a real thug.
Their family had a lot of dysfunction. I heard later after all this was over (for me at least) that their mom had committed suicide. Looking back, I feel sorry for all the kids. But, there is usually a reason behind the bullying, and their family situ
The DraftIn 1965 I earned my bachelor's degree in English from Iowa State and thanks to my nearly straight-A record in the study of the language and literature of English I won a National Defense Title IV fellowship to study English at Indiana University in Bloomington, where my boat to the Doctor of Philosophy sprang its first leak, my instruction in English there so different from Iowa State where I had risen like a meteor and felt like a star. In my two years at Indiana I could inspire not a single teacher to take any personal interest in me. Sobered and dragging a C bitterly behind me I swam off a Master of Arts and counted myself lucky. Then, from the fall of 1967 through the spring of 1970, I taught English at little Upper Iowa College in Fayette, Iowa, where the desperate young men in my classes needed passing grades to maintain their student deferments and avoid the draft.The Draft1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Competition was fierce.
Literally a matter of life and death.
One afternoon of finals week I dropped
caracter for a groupHi people im doing a caracter for a new Group...for more im formati on contact coop500caracter for a group3 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Name: andrew calestian
Species : Human
Personality: he is very gentle and caring for other people, he tend to help anyone but if someone make he angry he will become very rouge and violent man.
Appearance: he is Tall 1,73 Mt,very Skin and with a little bit of muscle. ...not to much muscle touch,, he usually Wear a Black jacket with dark jeans, his eyes are green and his hairs are Pitch Black.
Likes: he likes fight and hang out with friends, he like Chips and pasta and he like a lot cold Lemon tea.
dislikes : he dislikes death, children that fight in wars and vegetables.
Friends: he live in a hut in a Forest but he have some Friend in city.
Backstory: he used to be a general in a far city but he left it since 4 years...Now he work for the city by killing Savage animal Wich attack people.
Weaknes/fear: his We
About MeCompletely honest self-critique:About Me1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I write stories, because I want to condemn the nasty feelings that I get almost every day. They're like a good drug against the pain that is life sometimes.
I get depressed, because I think about the time that I'll die, and not the life that I'll live. It feels terrible to have a morbid obsession with death.
I try to RP to find some comfort emotionally. If anyone's open to RP, they can RP. I get very lonely and wander the whole entire deviantArt website trying to find some RP partner.
I get angry at myself and I end up becoming even more depressed. I have the morbid fear that no one will accept me at all, so I begin to hate myself.
To me, life is sometimes like the cover of a DSBM album. (Look it up to see what I mean.) Black and white, with mostly black permeating the surface. I feel left out of life's offerings.
Popularity isn't important to me, but relationships definitely ARE. If none of my relationships work, then I'm a miserable bum. I feel severe
Re: Cloud no 9To me the whole concept of "Cloud no 9" is an abstract construct of human imagining at best. There is no such thing in reality and nothing to prove it's existence.Re: Cloud no 91 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
The human self, as I have felt it during my two, arduous, odious years in depression can most easily be equated to an endless sea of thought. We're all in our own boat, surrounded by our thoughts in a sea where no sun shines and the only concept of light or dark is from the waters, your thoughts, themselves. The waters change with your spirit, if your soul is radiant with thoughts of happy times, albeit from love, albeit from success or for that matter vanity even, the waters will give you light and warmth. If your soul is darkened by vengeance, sadness, grief, guilt or anything such the waters turn cold and leave you to wander in the dark of your own creation to search for the littlest shard of light that may provide some solace.
In such an event where the lights die and you're cast away in the dark, still waters of yo
Just Ponder This.............Just A Thought To Ponder: One five year old little boy knew all about Heaven, and wanted to go to Heaven, at such a young age rather than stay in the security of his mother's arms like most little children would rather do. Just ponder this...Just Ponder This.............2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Kansas LightningWe drove into Kansas during a thunderstorm, but it isn't the thunder that I remember. It's the lightning, almost purple, and the wind.Kansas Lightning2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
“In the days of the Frontier,” my host mom told me, “people were driven mad by these winds. They could already see the Rockies in the distance, but it took days until they reached them – if they ever did. And all the while, the winds were howling.”
The storm rocked the car. I thought of tornados and the Wizard of Oz. It didn't seem unlikely at all that these winds could simply pick us up and drop us into an entirely new world. Actually, I felt as though that had happened already. I was a foreign exchange student and only sixteen years old, and I had never experienced anything like this at home in Germany.
The next morning, the air was perfectly still and clear. There was no trace left of the nightly weather; not even a few leaves on the long brown grass. It was winter, and there simply were no leaves left anywhere. The tree
Dulces Pesadillas # 9Caminaba en medio de la noche, en un lugar algo familiar, por plaza Italia, no sabía que hacia ahí, a esas horas o porque en ese lugar precisamente. Pero eso no parecía importar, estaba totalmente desolado, no había gente, incluso no había iluminación, pero si uno o dos autos, y yo al medio de la calle.Dulces Pesadillas # 91 month ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Por alguna razón mire al cielo, negro con esas pequeñas luces infinitas como puntos. De pronto apareció una estrella fugaz, cerré los ojos y pedí un deseo, no recuerdo que fue lo que pedí exactamente, pero al abrir los ojos la estrella parecía mucho más grande, y más a cada segundo, pensé que era un meteoro, pero no, era un avión que caía a unos cuantos metros de mi y casi aplasta una camioneta negra.
The Worrying RoomLooking back, that one night seemed to sum up that bleak December of 2002. The Temp Industry, which I had been working in for a good chunk of that year— 12-hour shifts out of town in Springfield, most of the summer enduring it with a grave sinus infection— had petered out on holiday manufacturing just in time for Thanksgiving, so it wasn’t as if I suffered any shortage of time on my hands. Since I had already paid for train tickets months earlier, and had seen for myself that no one was hiring this time of year anyway, I decided to return to my hometown for the Holidays with my roommates.The Worrying Room3 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I suppose we were all going back with our own troubles. Myself, unemployed, with no serious prospects. M—, whose college loan papers had vanished into quarantine in the midst of the Great Anthrax Scare of ’01, never to be seen again, and a University of Oregon loan office that couldn’t be bothered to inform him about such relevant matters until after<