This didn't go according to plan (prompt #2)

• Today's prompt: I tried to sneak out using my window and now I’m hanging from it can you help me?

″Um, excuse me?″

Ben pulled out an earbud from his left ear and looked around. He was walking down an ordinary-looking, reasonably well-lit suburban street but it was past midnight and one can never be too careful. At least that’s what his mother keeps saying every time he leaves the house.

“Excuse me? Over here!”, came the voice again, somewhere from the darkness of the front porch of the house on his right. Ben pulled out the right earbud and shoved the earphones in his back pocket. As he was rolling the earphones and pushing them into his jeans, making them exquisitely knotted in the process, he analysed the situation: 1) it is the middle of the night; 2) there is a voice coming from the darkness, a voice he doesn’t recognise, 3) given the set-up it is likely that the voice belongs to a burglar, a robber or another sort of a criminal element; 4) but they said “excuse me”. Twice. Ben found it unlikely that a burglar would have the time for pleasantries; 5) still; they could be a murderer trying to lure him in under the false safety of politeness...

His thought process was cut short with another, this time distinctly angry, whisper and Ben realized it was a girl's voice, “hey, I'm kind of in a not-so-great situation here and I could really use some help.” Concluding that the owner of the voice probably isn’t a murderer, Ben slowly approached the house and looked around in the dark blue night. There was no one there.

“Up here,” came the voice again just as Ben began to doubt his sanity.

Looking up, he realized that there was a pair of legs wearing beat faded pink Converse, dangling from the first floor window. Using his phone as a flashlight, he gazed up from the pink Converse and recognized a girl who worked in the local cinema.

“Hi, I’m stuck and I need your help“, she said conversationally. 

So day 2. I realize this isn't that good and nothing really happens but I have an exam tomorrow and need to be doing that, okay? Maybe I'll continue this tomorrow, who knows. 

The sun and I (prompt #1)

If anyone's still here, hello, it's been a while!

One of my new year resolutions is to work on my writing, so I'm going to do this: pick a prompt every day and just write something. I'm not going to give myself any particular wordcount because this is enough of a challenge already, okay? We'll see what happens.

Without further ado, today's exercise is:

• Write about the sun as though you love it. Then write about it as though you hate it.

1. Spring equinox is marked on my calendar in capital letters. I used my best fountain pen. When it comes I let my hair ripple down my back and I wear yellow. I am courting your approval. I haven't seen much of you over the past few months and when I have it wasn't really you. Not all of you anyway. But now you are coming back as you always do.

The alarm clock goes off at seven in the morning and finds me sitting already dressed at the edge of my bed. I've missed you too much and today you are coming back.

I step out into the semi darkness of early morning and head to the highest hilltop. When I get there you haven't arrived yet but you are close. I see you first, (so beautiful) then I feel your touch (so kind). I realise I'm smiling again after so many months. Your gentle caress is slowly melting the frozen lake of my soul. The light you provide shines bright at the wasteland behind my ribs but you don't flinch. I get on my tiptoes, stretch higher, my arm, further, my fingertips.

I understand why Icarus happily exchanged his life for a chance to touch you. I would too.



2. Your glow is too strong, you burn too bright and I cannot bear it.

The scorching heat you hurl at me is evaporating my soulsap, stripping away my humanity and my clothes. Nothing matters just your greedy fingers piercing through my skin, not stopping until they trap bone marrow.
There is nothing left to see or feel, just your overbearing blinding presence.
You burn burn burn my skin without mercy till there is a frayed black hollow where my heart used to live.

People (even poets!) say you make living softer, easier, prettier.
The truth is you quicken the process of rotting.

Morning light is harsh

Morning light is harsh.

Your cracks, full of depth under the moonlight

borrowed their complexity from the stars.

Now I see they were simple mirrors,

far from black holes, deep ponds of celestial dust.

I thought I loved you,

seeing the comets seeping through your scars like sap.

You just mirrored mine.

It was me who filled you with stars.

The constellations I saw in your skin

are nothing more than pigment specks

prosaically sprawled on your milky back.

I can no longer coat your pretentiousness in metaphors -

I am tired of you.

What was enough by the candlelight

cannot compare to the glow of northern lights.

The gravity of you is suffocating.

The raspberry smell of the universe
fouled by the stench of you.

Your insecurities smell of misguided pomposity,

stale cigarettes, desperation and rotting fruit.

Your thinly veiled shallowness engages nothing more

but my gagging reflex.

Morning light is harsh.

The blurred edges of your words

mellow in the night

cut sharp like daggers
with the first light.

letters to my future boyfriend

I imagine us lying in grass and gazing up to the skies. It would be a lazy summer afternoon with sunlight filtering through the trees.
We would be young, reckless and in love. Our eyes closed as sun would be shining and we forgot our sunglasses. I wouldn't mind though because when I'd look at you, having to shadow with my hand, your face would look stunning as at times it would be bathed in sunlight. My vision would be blurred at sides and you'd look like a dream.

words

Words are the way to
enthrall me, enchant me, entice me.
If someone ever tells me
I'm a thunder with magic
spilling from my lips,
I'll be theirs
(till the echo stops)
I'll pay for this weakness in the end
for words are nothing
when the hands lie idle
but at least I'll go with your lips
on my ear, whispering
stories of Pandora,
the old gods in the skies
the lover's kiss up for rent.

Word Diary #1

28/08/11

walk in the woods/ grandma and grandpa/ cold beer/ breath of autumn in summer air/ jeux de lumière/ flower wreath/ yellow and green/ nostalgia

More

Films and books taught me how to feel.

And they are also a reason why reality simply isn’t enough for me.

I want more romance, more drama, more adventure, more epicness, morePURPOSE.

I just want MORE.

Do you feel cool?

Every day, I see people around, who when I look them, I think: “They are cool.” 

Cool in a sense of being different, confident, relaxed and they look like they are enjoying being unique and don’t care what others might think about them.

I just sometimes wonder if a day will come, when someone looks at me in the street and will think to himself, ‘she is cool’.

.

My dreams are so vivid lately,

every morning it takes me a while

to realise what is real.

Reality is always

the less desirable option.

I want someone to lie next to me.

I want someone to lie next to me. 

Someone to wake up next to in the morning. 

I would wake up thinking about a weird dream I had - a boy laying next to me - and I would feel a tinge of sadness as I’d remember it was only a dream. 

And then I’d move and feel him next to me, I’d slowly turn my head and smile to myself. 

I’d watch him sleep for a while, watch the sunbeams on his skin and how peacefully he’s looking when he’s asleep.

Then I’d get up, slowly, maybe, and tiptoe through the room. 

If I felt like it, I would go to make coffee for him and tea for me since I don’t like coffee.

Or maybe I’d just sit on the chair and watch him sleeping a bit more. Then, I’d remember how he says it’s creepy and I’d slowly turn away, smiling, to look outside into sleepy morning sunlight.

Yes, that’s what I would do.

———————————————-

I wrote this a couple of months ago and just found it and thought that I’d share it with you. Let me know what you think, if you want to :)

Layers

I love people who have a number of layers. And they unfold slowly, one by one as you get to know them. It’s fascinating how complex people can be. 

However, too often people don’t bother to look closer and see those layers, so they make assumptions and judge by the first layer - the cover, which is often there to fulfill its role as a semi-permeable membrane of sorts - only some will be let through.

Flying with seagulls over a bay

Once, I will live by the sea. Not the kind of sea which is warm enough in summer so you can swim in it. No. The kind of sea which is always grey, unstable, thundery, blustering, with huge waves and unceasing wind.

There is a powerful endless energy in ocean and it attracts me.

I had a weird dream last night.

In my dream, I was about to marry someone. I don't know who it was, I just know that I didn't want to marry him, I wasn't ready but there was a strong reason why I was getting ready to marry him anyways. I can't recall what the reason was exactly, I just know it had something to do with my family. It would have solved their problems or saved them from something.

I ended up running away the day of marriage and then coming back explaining to my and his family that I can't do it.

I usually don't remember my dreams and I don't believe in stuff like "when you dream that you lost your tooth, someone from your family will die", but I would really like to know what was all this about.

I went clubbing last night,

and I realised I really didn't like it. Yes, it may be fun once a year or once in 6 months (as is my case), but every Friday? Or every Friday AND Saturday? No, thank you, I'll pass.

During the course of last night, we went to 3 different places and I spent there cca 5 hours. During this time, I recognised 2 songs and other 2 were vaguely familiar, while everyone else was dancing and singing. It didn't feel too odd, but still.
I prefer to dance to songs I know and like. I prefer gigs to club nights. I prefer bottle of beer to vodka/tequila/whatever-fancy-drink-I-don't-know-the-name-of shot. I prefer bouncing and jumping to dirty dancing. And I prefer my hair smelling of cigarettes rather than of a mixture of strong wo/man fragrancies.

What would you be?

 *idea taken from Alaska*

If I were a month, I’d be October.
If I were a day of the week, I’d be Friday.
If I were a time of day, I’d be 1:52am.
If I were a season, I'd be autumn.
If I were a planet, I’d be Pluto (I know it's not planet anymore).
If I were a sea animal, I’d be a turtle.
If I were a direction, I’d be North.
If I were a piece of furniture, I’d be a bedside table.
If I were a liquid, I’d be dewdrop.
If I were a gemstone, I’d be a ruby.
If I were a tree, I’d be a maple tree.
If I were a tool, I’d be I wouldn't be any tool, I'm too unpractical to be a tool.
If I were a flower, I’d be a field poppy.
If I were a kind of weather, I’d be a short summer rain.
If I were a musical instrument, I’d be a piano.
If I were a color, I’d be deep blue. Like cloudless skies at night.
If I were an emotion, I’d be full of expectations. Is it emotion?
If I were a fruit, I’d be a blueberry.
If I were a sound, I’d be a sound of a wind chimes in a breeze.
If I were an element, I’d be air.
If I were a car, I’d be the yellow van from Little Miss Sunshine.
If I were a food, I’d be a chocolate chip cookie.
If I were a place, I’d be a small street in a big city at night with many street lights and little restaurants and music clubs and a park nearby.
If I were a material, I’d be wood.
If I were a taste, I’d taste like honey cake.
If I were a scent, I’d be the way air smells after rain.
If I were an object, I’d be a locket or an LP.
If I were a body part, I’d be eyes.
If I were a facial expression, I’d be a smile.
If I were a song, I’d be Her Name is Alice (Shinedown).
If I were a pair of shoes, I’d be a pair of ballerinas with floral pattern.

nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it

"The unreal is more powerful than the real. Because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it. Because its only intangible ideas, concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last. Stone crumbles. Wood rots. People, well, they die. But things as fragile as a thought, a dream, a legend, they can go on and on. If you can change the way people think. The way they see themselves. The way they see the world. You can change the way people live their lives. That’s the only lasting thing you can create”

—	Chuck Palahniuk

The task is: fill in 12 likes, 1 love and 8 hates like Cassie in her therapy video. Below, the bolded things are what you MUST include.

Abracadabra, Wow!
I like boys with messy hair and girls with dreams
I like art
I like walking in empty streets
I like old buildings
I like stories
I like wind
I like twilight in spring and summer and the way everything smells so intensely then
I like city lights
I like when it's snowing
I like when I find a perfect gift for someone
I like going to concerts of bands that not many people know
I like dresses and skirts
I love pseudo-intellectual/romantic/artistic conversations when you're drunk
Today I didn't do what I was supposed to.
In some ways, I love everything.
Its less, its less of a thing to like, its less distinct, its less particular
I like things that I like but I love everything
There’s more choice in like
Cos even the worst things have things you love in them
I don’t know what you mean about things I hate
I hate feeling ugly
I hate how much I care what other people think of me
I hate labeling
I hate being full of fears
I hate feeling powerless
I hate changes, but in a way, I need them
I hate people who have no inner worlds on their own
I hate adults who forgot about the children within them

You know what? Strange thing has happened to me few times. Several of my friends (girls) told me that if they were guys they would immediately date me. Or another friend (girl) told me that if I was lesbian and if she was lesbian, that she would want me. And another friend (girl) told me she wished to find a guy who would be like me.
I don't get it. My female friends see me as a nice person. Even as a dating material you might say. But WHY, WHY is it only girls who see it? I must be doing something wrong. I just don't know what it is. Fuck. FUCK.

i would love to make films

I'm going to uni from september. So, right now I'm freaking out because I can't choose what I want to do in future. However, the most probable option right now seems to be International Relations or Journalism Course. My dad isn't really excited about my choices. He doesn't believe in diplomacy or politics really. I understand him, I really do. People don't trust politicians. Why should they, right? It all seems to be so corrupted. That's why I want to do politis (or journalism) on international basis. I believe there is still some hope that things can be changed. In a good way.
So, this afternoon, we were just chatting about these little everyday things and he told me he listened to a radio interview with a female diplomat. This is his way how to be supportive, telling me little things like these. I like it :)
After a while I told him (as I know he's not happiest with my choice but respects it): "Dad, I would really love to just make movies. But I'm afraid I couldn't do it for living." And he replied: "Why not?"
Isn't it nice? I really love him. I suspect he's a hidden dreamer.

D

Do you want to know why not, dad? 
Because I'm not talented enough.

kiss under cherry tree in blossom

It's May 1 tomorrow.
In my country, there is a tradition to kiss your special one under a cherry tree in blossom on May 1. Kind of spring version of mistletoe kiss {mistletoe. isn't it a beautiful word?}

It's nice tradition, isn't it? Sure, it is, if you have someone who you want to kiss under a tree, under a window, on a river bank, on sofa, in tall grass, in bed...

As you probably guessed, I don't have that special someone. And it's not very probable that I will find him in 2 hours and 20 minutes that are left till the first day of May. Especially when I'm sitting in my room and I will stat here also for next 2 hours and 18 minutes. Anyway, I doubt that I would run into love of my life in our empty dark street at 9:45 PM.

And I doubt I will run into him tomorrow or next week or next month or next year...or ever?