RenewRenew7 years ago in The Future of Holidays More Like This
The pig carcass filled most of the stainless tub where the delivery men had laid it. Freshly slaughtered, but not butchered, it had taken four of them to lift it there. None of them spoke to Rinnovi, only pausing for him to sign for the animal before they left.
On the way to the door, one of the men pointed at the stickers affixed to virtually every item in the house; black typewritten names and addresses on white shipping labels. The leader of the group nudged him and shook his head 'no', before hurrying him out the door.
Rinnovi poured a scotch, and turned on the kitchen vid display, his own visage peering back at him with a smile. He froze the frame, leaving the remote on the island beside the second stainless tub.
"Osiris, prepare to renew." He spoke aloud to the empty room.
"Preparations underway." The voice, angel soft and faintly Irish filled the room seemingly from everywhere at once. Both of the tubs began to fill with a steaming viscous liquid, spattering against the steel, a
i am born.I am born. I can't focus my eyes; I stare at the ceiling blindly. The lights, the shapes. Warm touches. There is nothing for me here. I cry and cry. My grandmother baptizes me in the hospital because, in her alcohol-clouded mind, it is an "emergency".i am born.5 years ago in Write Memoirs More Like This
The bath is cold and wet. People, strangers, towels, talking, I can't do anything. I want to see but I can't seem to get it right.
Familiar sounds. Smells. Mother.
I am a loser. People make fun of me. The teachers force me to sit next to the bad kids because I am such a "good influence". I love school and learning. I know how to do division, more than the others can say. My only friend Julia is going to a different school for first grade. I know I will be friendless again.
My birthday party is lonely. I wish that I could have a fun themed party, like ev
dear teen meDear Sarah,dear teen me3 years ago in Adult More Like This
Remember that time you tried to top yourself by hiding under the covers? That was hilarious. I remember you tugging at the edges of the blanket and praying, without a shred of scientific evidence, that the lack of oxygen would be enough to kill you. You sat under there for something like fifteen minutes before you gave up and went to make a sandwich. But while you were under there, choking a little on your pillow because you never washed your sheets, I remember you thought someone was watching. Someone who understood your suffering. Someone who understood you.
Kid, that was me. And I've got two words for you: man up. Life can get a whole lot harder than this. Before too much longer, it's going to. And by the time you get to my age, you're going to be glad.
Why were you
To My Future SelfTo my Future Self,To My Future Self3 years ago in Teen More Like This
Breathe. You must be thinking, seriously, my teen self is acting like an old fart of a teacher telling off overstressed kids, but seriously, breathe. Stop. Pause. Listen. It's your heart beating. It's telling you, I'm beating so damn hard, I might just kill you one day.
Okay, let's digest. There can only be two reasons for your heart to beat like that. One reason is because I wouldn't have changed- I would still be that overzealous, neurotic, depressed teenager with a penchant for word thieves, dream catchers and moment makers. The other reason would be just the opposite: it's beating with life, with purpose, with hope.
I hope you'll be that second person.
Because being that second person means being serenaded by Chopin in a boy's car, travelling down to Bondi Beach watching sculptures rear out of the sea and you're feeling like, maybe, love may finally find you at last. Being that second person means you just won't shut up talking to patrons
GalactusTo whomever finds meGalactus4 years ago in Literature Entries More Like This
I fear I have held something from you and from the galaxy, for many a year. As you all know I am the last of my kin and as I am approaching the end of my life, I feel it is appropriate to tell you the truth.
Back when I was Galan in the year 27π it was the morn of the seventeenth moon. I was no older than nine, a number which, said to represent satisfaction, brought only sorrow. The sun had set with a smooth sky yet there was a disconcerting air of the cavern. The only woman who ever loved me was resting peacefully, with child, upon the chaise longue, the fire kissing her toes with the sweetest crackling sound. The suns upper corona was casting its final rays, illuminating her tired face.
As her chest gently rose, a hoarse braying came from within the barn, followed by a consenting uproar from the other animals. I rushed out to tame the mounting pandemonium emanating from the farmyard. The barn doors had burst open. Shards lay across the drive. Ebbs soa
Dear Teen MeDear Adolescent Self,Dear Teen Me3 years ago in Adult More Like This
I know, everything sucks and you don't want to hear from some lame-ass old person. Lame-ass old people try to tell you things like this all the time, but they're just stupid old people that can't possibly understand. You don't respect me because I'm not in a band, I don't have black hair, and I don't look awesome. I don't write screamey songs that speak to your weasley black soul, nor am I Tim Burton or Freddie Mercury. I get it, past self. I get it. Frankly, I don't want to hear things from me either most of the time. As lame as I may be, just hear me out for a minute.
There's this thing you should really, really try, and it's called being happy. No, I'm not high. Yes, this is really quite terrible and hokey. Shut up and stop judging me for a minute, I'm trying to help you, you little twonk. Also, start thinking of absurd insults now, it will help you in the long run.
As I was SAYING, you spend far too much time and effort on being miserable. Part of it is the ho
I'll meet her again...Its Samhain. The line between the spiritI'll meet her again...6 years ago in Sestina-ween More Like This
world and our own is a ray of moonlight.
Its the night when the reluctant soul sticks
to our plane, hovering - a withered rose
whose beauty is the figment of a dream;
a gleam gilding the surface of the lake.
For long hours of idyll would the Lake
poets revel in letting their spirit
soar free on the nightingales wings, and dream
of glimpsing their Muse clad in pure moonlight
but tonight magics afoot: clouds just rose
to blur the moon like fumes from incense sticks.
The Romantics habit of rambling sticks
to mind tonight, as I stroll to the lake
and sit down to recall the violent rows
wed have every night, before her spirit
gave itself over to the bland moonlight
and chose to rest and die, not live and dream.
But perhaps tis I thats strayed in a dream?
For in that small nest, fashioned out of sticks,
I see her visage, painted in moonlight.
I glimpse a lady traversing the
Purifying Hearts"...Now you be careful, ma'am, because there's a unicorn in there."Purifying Hearts5 years ago in Unicorns & Magic More Like This
I stared down at the water purifier, then back up at the mechanic. He was tall and skinny with long dirty-blond hair, a real grease monkey. I'd even been thinking he was cute -- well, until he started blabbering about mythological creatures.
"A unicorn?" I forced a chuckle, sure he was making a crappy joke.
"Yes, ma'am. A real, honest-to-goodness unicorn," he said, his expression deadpan. "How else do you think the water gets clean?"
"Come on, you don't really expect me to believe that? It's the 20th century, and girls aren't so easy to fool anymore. I mean... it needs batteries, right?" I thumped the battery compartment. "Why would a unicorn need batteries?"
"For food, ma'am. Why else?"
I stared at him, trying to keep my mouth from hanging open. His face was a perfect study in sincerity. I figured he was probably about to pee himself from the effort of not laughing.
The Crane WifeThe Crane Wife5 years ago in Fable Me This More Like This
The Crane Wife
Does that bird
think of bygone times
as it flies singing...
- Princess Nukada
There on the poor man's doorstep,
an arrow biting into my wing,
I flew into the arms of decision
my cries calling clouds,
even to the brow of Moon:
I would not be this;
kindness come to me,
and songs of a different flesh,
irresistibly new. That was why,
sped to health, I fled only to return
to the poor man's doorstep
a bird no more, a woman of silk.
And how the bamboo blinds
quivered with the storms of Spring;
how Wind shook Moon in the p
Dear Daddy's GirlDear Naive 15,Dear Daddy's Girl3 years ago in Adult More Like This
You're ignorant as Hell.
You dress in baggy blue jeans, wear an oversized hoodie every day, and never let your hair down. Students at school, and even your mom, think you're gay… and you don't even know.
All of your classmates blame you for a burn book that circulated after that Mean Girls movie. Everyone thinks you're a jealous bitch and secretly they mock you. How can you not see that?
Your teachers are all positive that you cut yourself and that you're always on drugs. Even now you have no idea why they ask you to take your jacket off during class. Could it be that you always wear long sleeves?
It's okay, sweetheart. I had to find out the hard way, too.
Right now you're probably wishing your dad was home. He's the only one that will read your stories and tell you how creative you are. You don't have to beg him to watch movies with you, and he'll listen to your favorite songs without calling you suicidal. Right now, living wi
Dear Teen Me...You grew up too soon, your dandelion seeds sprouting weeds quickly, but that doesn't mean you know everything about life yet. Those feelings you've been wishing for? To be loved like coffee, like chocolate milk, like popcorn at the movie theater as the lights dim and people husssssssssh...around you? They're lurking, waiting to make their move. You can ignore them all you want, but first loves are a bitch and by the time that night is over, you'll already be infatuated with the sound of his voice, the tilt of his head, the dimples of his smile. You'll string him along for almost a year, never realizing that his puppy-dog eyes and his uncanny ability to find you even when you're running from him are more than an inherent annoyance. You'll push him away because he scares you...but the day will come when that changes. When the blinders on your heart will fall like chains and you'll see him with different eyes. You'll realize that he's obsessed with you in a way that makes your stoDear Teen Me...3 years ago in Adult More Like This
FAQSome people start dAramaFAQ5 years ago in FAQ Land More Like This
and make their fellows rage
Some just give others llamas
to make them click their page.
And some will even agonize
their peers to boost their views;
I think that they don't realize
there is an F A Q!
That is where you find the answer -
you'd agree if you had tried -
to the question you all wonder
How to get noticed on this site?
The NameOn the eve of Tvesa's death, people couldn't recall her name. The townsfolk examined her corpse closely and rechristened her as Rubia. And thereby, our town of shadows had a new member. Rubia.The Name5 years ago in Literature More Like This
My acquaintance with Tvesa had been simple. We were born into the same town. This town. I still live in. An assemblage of congested places. Of many houses. And their windows. If you had to meet the sun, you had to be on the roofs. The sun-rays never penetrated beyond that. The lanes and by-lanes of our town were always a mingling of overlapping shadows. Shadows that went right through your skin. Poured in through your eyelids, even when they were closed. Landed right into your veins. And flowed with your blood. My acquaintance with Tvesa was amidst the many dissimilar shadows of our town.
In our childhood we both knew to fly. Our childhood was a collection of a multitude of moments we had spent suspended in the mid-air. We jumped from roof to roof. All children. In the suns