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Word Vomit Poetry, thoughts, ramblings, and other things


TunaFishie
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Writing Contest Submission 2 "Halloween Horror": Liberation
“The first rule is realizing you are not alone. Right now, no matter where you are, who you are, what you are wearing, or how much money you have--they are watching you. The second rule is just as simple, you will only see them if they want you to see them. Finally there is the third rule, and the most important rule; there is nothing you can do to stop them.

“Don’t believe me? Didn’t expect you would. That’s the problem with people in today’s day and age. You want proof? Well what makes you so special? The proof is all around you. But I suppose that is too vague for you. I guess I’ll have to tell a story.
“It’s raining. A cold, harsh, bitter rain, the kind that soaks you to your bones and covers your skin in ice. It’s night and you are walking alone, trying to get back into the leather seats of your four door luxury car. You are solemn in this rain, so determined to reach your comfort that all thoughts other than that heater are drowned out of your mind.

“Your steps are quick, hard, puddles splash around your ankles in a cacophony of noise. It’s then you notice that everything around you is quite. Has this rain really taking over the sound of the street? Where are the other cars? Where are the other people? These questions float to your mind. They are your humanity. Cherish the last of them.

“As you approach your car, and by this time you are a mere few steps away, the lurch in your stomach tells you to stop. It pleads with you. Begging for you to for once listen. However you credit this to hunger, to cold, to paranoia. Do you credit it to these generic excuses or do they credit it to these excuses? You open the door to the smell that is so unique, that combination of rain and car, steel and leather. Designer shapes fill your mind. There is Safety. Warmth.

“As you start the car you notice, that to your right, the passenger side, sitting patiently, waiting for you to notice is one of them. All you know is that in that moment, you know nothing. That in the shock of what you are witnessing, that there is no horror that could be more alarming than the one smiling at you now.

“It sits there, taunting you with its permanent bloody smile waiting for you to acknowledge its existence. Your mind cannot comprehend this heinous monstrosity, can you even describe it? Its skin is burnt black, peeling with red and white pus visible between the cracks of the delicate looking flesh. It’s taller, leaner than any human; sitting crouched with its knees to a boney chin. Its pointed face, with empty burned sockets staring at you lifelessly. Those eyes are what you stare back at as it moves slowly closer to you. It’s head cocking to the side letting you see in full the hellish face.

“Its black skin is cut, bleeding, pumping from its mouth. All of it’s long pointed teeth are visible, and you realize with alarming clarity that the beast before you has but red protruding scabs for a nose, where green and yellows pus gather around it as sniffs audibly.

“The sound is like sand paper being rubbed together. It smells your fear. As the distance between you and your fate close, you smell it. A cold rotting smell that bring tears to your eyes, and constricts your throat. Your stomach is squeezed so tight it feels that not even vomiting is capable for relief of this smell. This smell is its pain.

“Yes this creature, this demon, this nightmare has been waiting for you, always. Watching you, calculating. You never saw it. And now, there is nothing you can do to stop it. It inches closer, to where its face is but millimeters away. It breathes a breath of toxic air directly into your oxygen supply. You gasp, the first sound you can make, and also the last.

“Pain, dizzying, red hot, burns into the skin of your jaw, as the nightmare rips into your flesh. Blood pours from your face and you try to scream, blinking away tears before you feel the long nails of this monster sink into your vision. You are blind, defeated, struck dumb by the creature and its power. As the pain starts to ebb, and you are almost lulled to your death, you hear it whisper in your ear, a strangely sweet sound.

“ ‘Am I important now?’ ”

“A harsh cry, that is the sound of true sorrow fills the rest of your senses, and you realize that the pain you have experienced is nothing compared to the fire of it’s hatred. Burning your flesh, the hell fire of its fury tosses you into an agony that you cannot see, you cannot understand. Your life flashes before your eyes. “What have I done to deserve this?” You ask yourself, to god, to whatever being that could possibly know the answer. No response of epiphany comes your way. Then as the process of your life finishes, and you recall the first moments of life as a single cell organism--you awake.

“Yes you awake to a black and white vision of the world. People, if they could be called that, ogle blue screens wordlessly. You cannot tell them apart. Man, woman, all have lithe frail bodies that seem so deprived. And these screens! For the love of god why are they staring at these screens?! They are starving, they are shivering, naked and cold, and still they stay! Rooted, stuck, stupid and ignorant.

“But it’s then you realize, that it is not that they are stuck as much as they are chained. For as you start walking, and start peering into these screens, that these screens are not screens. They are illuminated mirrors. Digital, and false. Showing them everything they could, would, and should be. Everything they could have if only they looked away.

“That is when you notice your own race, though not so hellish as before. They walk with same burnt skin, they caress each of these shriveled people slowly, quietly watching them, waiting for them to notice. Waiting for the right moment to walk into their world and liberate them. Their hatred grows as the screens grow more obscene, yet still they wait, wait for the right moment.

“Yes my love, I saw you all those years ago, tucked safely into your digital apathy. But tell me now love, are you ready for liberation?”




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Submission for a writing contest 1 "This is Your Poison"
TunaFishie
Coma White Inspired by the song of the same title by Marilyn Manson


Blink. Inhale. Blink. Exhale. Repeat.

The ceiling was ever changing. Morphing under the guise of smoke and the opiates laced therein. However it wasn't enough to hold her attention in the hazy light of an overcast morning. Particularly not when there was a loud snoring, drooling mouth to her side and a heavy arm draped over her chest like a fallen long. You know, there was a lot that could be said between the two of them, however there wasn't a whole lot of dialog between the drugs and sex. Blink. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

In a lot of minds she was beautiful, but she knew the truth. The frizzing red hair used to be a mousy brown of a scraggly girl who preferred to climb trees than chase boys. The dark sunken eyes used to be razor sharp windows to a guarded, but existing soul. Now? Well beneath the smudged eyeliner, Hot-Topic lime eye shadow, they weren't so much windows as empty caverns where a soul used to live.

Yes her appearance had changed, as age would often do to a girl. Forcing her from childhood into womanhood by a quick succession of steps that no one really knows, or has every cared to fully document. The twenty something was little more than a statistic found in those books about poverty, domestic violence, drug addictions, and child abuse. Her exact place of origin, age, or even her personality was of little importance. She could be anyone. And she was. Because a nobody is in all actuality everybody, the Disney movies she watched as a child taught her that much.

She sat up slowly, feeling an early old-age creak in her bones, the evidence of premature wrinkles in her hands as she grabbed the bed post to help herself up and out of the bed. Finding her clothing wasn't difficult, as much as it was tedious. It was difficult for her to focus on the buttoning of her white shirt while thoughts involving the rotation of the planets and the mystery of gravity itself drilled little holes in her brain. Absent minded? Maybe. Maybe it was the ganja talking, or maybe the mild buzz of her combined hangover and the exiting high of prescription pain killers. It didn't matter in the long run, soon her pile of clothing was on her body, and she was heading for the door.

She thought briefly of trying to find something to eat, but the idea of hanging around a place that echoed deeds she could not remember, or eating a meal tasting of bitter perfunctory kisses that existed because the words "love-making" required their existence, detoured her from doing so. She did not need this place, or this man. Anymore.

Blink. Inhale. Blink. Exhale. Repeat.

She got out to her car, shutting the door of the tiny Volkswagen before realizing that she had no where to go. There were other men in the world, other things to smoke, untapped rivers of the purest alcohol to drink, but all out of reach in the hollow body of a nobody. Which is everybody.
Her forehead fell on the steering wheel as the tears dripped down in her face. Where were you supposed to go when there was no love to motivate you? Not even the drugs held the passionate apathy she craved, nor did sex bring the eloquent gratification of a job well done anymore. The truth was there was nothing. And for once she felt an utter loneliness so strong it rivaled the sum of the last ten years.

She didn't know how long she was there like that. Sobbing out the history of so much emptiness. But the next thing she knew was that there was a car in front of her, as she headed in slow-motion high speeds into the wrong lane of the highway. The car in front of her was pretty. a big sturdy SUV horn blazing as a terrified girl's eyes widened at the sight of such polluted humanity.

Blink. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

The collision was hard and fast, instant. She was flying, or perhaps she was just on the pavement, broken bones poking out between taunt flesh. She would have laughed at the irony of the situation, as she looked into her past self crying at her side asking if she was alright, but there was too much blood in her mouth to make much more than a smirk.

Yes, the coma of loneliness is one that she never woke up from, but it was the poison of the hollow anti-love that swept her away in the end. The man back in his bedroom shifted in his sleep, arms looking for a false lover whose body was no longer there. For she was nobody. And everybody. That was what the Disney movies she watched when she was little told her anyway.

Blink. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.




TunaFishie
Community Member
dev1



TunaFishie
Community Member
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Scraggly girl
What is the nature of this game?
Cause it isn't what it used to be.
Cause way way way back, I think it was '03
All I wanted was Prince Charming,
And stop being seen as the scraggly girl I was then.
And I don't think time has changed much.
Scraggly turned into eccentric (minus the money)
And girl turned into woman (minus the unicorns)
And I'm in this giant gap of an in-between.
A long road of nonconformity everyone seems to know.
For the record, I would have loved you a while back.
And I did for a while.
Problem with wanting to better yourself,
Is that you notice the people that hold you back.
And the people who hold you down,
With their cuddly My little Pony vampirism.
Yeah, I'm ******** tired, but what's new?
You knew that going in.
But this game is changing, shifting into life.
I have a degree to get,
I have a lover to find.
You ain't him baby.
You are no Prince Charming,
And I'm no scraggly girl.




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So What?
Another trip down a sleepless road,
Another night, where things don't seem to matter.
I'm tripping on the bottom of another reflective song,
About a lover who is not in love,
With a giver who cannot give.

And your Martyrdom is nice,
Like a guillotines relentless smile,
I'm sure Marie Antoinette was a lot like you.
Just look where you are.

And you say that you miss me.
Your notes, they keep coming.
Cybernetic paper trails running down my window.
And all I wonder if it's me you miss,
Or the best of you I bring out.

And I'm tired of being your catalyst,
To the long list of reactions,
Ending in unfulfillment on both ends.
Silly me to think I was more than chemical,
More than biological,
More than a hole,
To stick your anger in...

I'm adding you to my list,
Of reasons an rules.
I'm deleting you from my rain clouds,
Cause you do not deserve my rainbows.
Sad thing is I don't miss you,
Or want you.

I guess that it doesn't matter now here in the end.
How much I thought I loved you,
How hurt I was,
Or will be,
When you curse my name,
For ripping off the band-aid we call true love.

I'm sorry, I apologize,
This so what attitude,
Doesn't help your impending dramatization.
To the next girl you sweep up in your soap opera.
But you can't will happiness,
When all you feel is regret.
And you can't will beauty,
When all you see just disconnects.

But for what it's worth, I did love you.
Until I didn't.
I wanted to help you,
Before I gave up.
I wanted to be your star,
Until I started to stay up all night.

And I think you loved me,
Until you loved the haphazard laziness,
Long distance brings.
I think you loved me,
Until you loved all the beauty I wasn't.
But like all good tragedies, this one has to end.
And so what if I'm weak enough to try to lean on you?
And so what if you are callous enough to drop me?
We had our fun.
While it lasted.
But my eyes are growing weary, and my hand hurts again.
So I am putting down this pen,
And watching the sun come up again.



TunaFishie
Community Member
dev1


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