Serial Thrilling

orvszosa:

chillaxmurderer:

The Young Housewife
By William Carlos Williams

At ten A.M. the young housewife
moves about in negligee behind
the wooden walls of her husband’s house.
I pass solitary in my car.

Then again she comes to the curb
to call the ice-man, fish-man, and stands
shy, uncorseted, tucking in
stray ends of hair, and I compare her
to a fallen leaf.

The noiseless wheels of my car
rush with a crackling sound over
dried leaves as I bow and pass smiling.

My thoughts:

1) OMG IT’S EPIC

2) OMG IT’S LIKE AN AFFAIR

3) OMG IT’S LIKE “LUZ”

4) OMG IT’S REALLY EPIC @-)

I don’t get how it’s like Luz… :|

She’s only attractive to him when she’s behind the walls of her house, unknown and unknowable (thus somehow being in darkness). When she steps into the light of the real world, he sees her for what she really is, and all the mystique is gone. It’s like how “Luz” plays with identity and how we’re different people in the darkness than who we are in the light, and how sometimes choosing darkness and ignorance is better than harsh enlightenment.

The Young Housewife
By William Carlos Williams

At ten A.M. the young housewife
moves about in negligee behind
the wooden walls of her husband’s house.
I pass solitary in my car.

Then again she comes to the curb
to call the ice-man, fish-man, and stands
shy, uncorseted, tucking in
stray ends of hair, and I compare her
to a fallen leaf.

The noiseless wheels of my car
rush with a crackling sound over
dried leaves as I bow and pass smiling.

My thoughts:

1) OMG IT’S EPIC

2) OMG IT’S LIKE AN AFFAIR

3) OMG IT’S LIKE “LUZ”

4) OMG IT’S REALLY EPIC @-)

You know those moments when you get reminded exactly why you love writing? Yeah.

Drama track, here I come.

is the dark doppelganger of cura personalis. :-P

X-Men comics, and Magic: the Gathering. Srsly.

sparkfading:

burstoflight:

justanotherprettylie:

the-birdmans-wife:

stop-asking-keep-dancing:

habitababitabitable:

CHILDHOOD DESTROYED LOL

*is blown away*

Interrupting GaGa spam to say WHAT THE FUCK?! THIS CANNOT BE TRUE.

I refuse to believe.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT

No, it’s not true.

What?!!!?!

Pics or it didn’t happen.

Why do the sounds hate me so? T_T

Oh, that I could slay you as easily as the dragons in the epic, epic anthology which I must review. >_<

lifelonglitstudent:

Ever since I was a kid I have always wanted a green lantern ring. Ever since seeing that small emerald band on my comic books, I’ve been obsessed.

Brief intro to the whole concept first though. A green lantern ring is given to the bravest person in a large chunk of the universe (There are about 3600 of these chunks or “sectors” as they call them in the comic books.). The ring is basically a etch-a-sketch that goes over reality. You can make anything you want, as long as you remain faithful in your ability to make it. Basically, the more sure of yourself you are the better you’ll be at “ring-slingin”.

People usually say when they want a fictional weapon that they’re after the power of it. The reason I want this particular weapon is a little different.

When you own this weapon, it is because you’re chosen. You are the bravest person in the world (and a few others). In the comic though the general public doesnt know about that specific prerequisite. I’m fine with that. It would just feel good to be “the bravest person in the world”, you know?

Or even just the most anything. I guess thats really what I want. Being the most at something. Just to feel special. A little bit unique, in this 7 billion person village of ours.

Thanks for reading.

Indigo for me all the way. Empathic mimicry FTW. B-)

Sucky: having someone in your life who won’t give you what you want for Christmas.

Suckier: having someone in your life who would give you anything for Christmas… and realizing that you want absolutely nothing from them.

Suckiest: knowing that it didn’t have to be this way, but that now, there’s no other way it can end.

Except for this.

Gifts ungiven, and a relationship that never was.

lifelonglitstudent:

Note: Read this slowly. Trust me.

I’m a writer. I’m not comfortable with stories. I can write them mind you, I’m just not comfortable with a certain thing about stories, and by extension with stories.

They end.

I don’t like that.

Therefore I don’t like stories.

Think about it for me, will ya’ please?

The end. What a concept. That reality in this tiny world made by men like me, ends.

Apocalypse is nigh! Foolish fictional characters! Mwuhahahah!

I’m fine with the concept of apocalypse though. Death is a tool in writing. But were not talking about apocalypse. We’re talking about non-existence. That everything the characters have struggled towards and obtained simply doesn’t exist anymore. That the connections I felt to them are now simply strings leading into an abyss. That… now that kills me inside.

You know what keeps me on the pen though?

You have to really want it for this answer to mean anything.

Here it is.

Life.

Life is the story that doesn’t end.

So when I write I stand over that scrap of paper, I stand there with the intent to put life… pieces of my life on that paper. That is how, to me, they become more than… scratch that, they just become… more. More real? More there? I don’t really know, it just feels right that they do feel that way to me and that I make the effort to make them so. Because then, when my pen touches that paper for the last time I feel it hasn’t yet ended for them.

The next question to tackle is what happens to them when I die, with no subjective reference frame to nurture their existence.

I don’t know how I do but I know that they will still be there.

And because they are still there, by extension I am still there. That in turn, it would be the created’s turn to take care of the creator.

Then my existence is kept alive by what I left behind in them.

I like stories.

They don’t end. I don’t end, in them.

Amazing, powerful stuff. Great reminder of the perils and ultimate rewards of writing. I will bookmark to share with people at a future date. :D

And to all a good night (and good eatin’)! :D

orvszosa:

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE. I don’t think I’ll be able to greet everyone who has paved the way for an awesome Christmas this year, but rest assured, so many of you keep me believing that Christ manages to be reborn every now and then when I see the people I have been blessed with. I love y’all and I think I’ll have something ready na for New Year. :>

Awww. :D

itsajiefactor:

Hwello. Thanks for following. Are you Ghostface/Freddy/Jason/Michael/Leatherface?

I wish. :)) It’s AJ. XD

lifelonglitstudent:

Threshold is a cool sounding word. I really like using it in some of the creative writing i do. But all it really is is a passage way. That’s all it means. But its cool, it makes even your bedroom door seem epic.

Now lets turn that idea on its ass for a second.

Look at the door to the room you’re in now. Imagine if that door, wasn’t just a door, and that say for the that exact moment you looked at it that door is some sort of epic door. Behind it lay toe-dash darkness beasts, an infinite dimension of blackness, an entire universe composed of a single plot of daisies with a mini sun suspended above them.

Now I’m sure were all well versed in wormhole tunneling and quantum theory so these things are definite possibilities. So each time your at a door, take a deep breathe before opening it. Before crossing the threshold.

I knew there was a reason I liked that word. :D