Yikes-New Direction, New Ideas

So I'm terribly sorry for never having finished the last story, I've been having a bit of down time on the internet as of late. Most of my free time has been spent looking for some form of work, something I haven't had for the past 7 months now.

I still plan on updating this site frequently, I'm just going to have to get back in the groove, when that happens I don't really feel at liberty to say quite yet. I've also been having some trepidations about the direction things had been going, I wasn't really finding a good groove with the size of the stories. I really felt that there should be more to them, but I want to keep within the 1000 word limit. I'm just going to have to brush up on my 'short story' skills more as opposed to writing like I'm beginning a novel, setting up characters and locations that are irrelevant to the direction of the story.

Also, I've been having some deep philosophical thoughts on the direction of my own life, what I'm doing, where I want to be one day and what my art really does for me. I've come up with an interesting look at what exactly my art is too. Most might say that art is an expression of one's feelings, an extension of their being put into a visually/mentally/audibly pleasing manner. What I have been pondering though is more or less, what if my art isn't in as so much an expression of me; but more or less a preconceived view of the direction my life is taking.

I feel like the things I draw, write and paint extend themselves into my life and form my reality in ways pertinent to what the piece contained. An example could be a series of pictures I had done that involve smiling faces which I generally perceive as myself and since I had begun drawing them I began to feel happier. I want to try and direct my life with my art now, I want to visualize myself in great situations, places and emotions and put them either in drawing or into stories. It's a bit of a long shot and all together bizarre, but I'm going to do it.....

So until I have a more stabilized idea of what I'm trying to do, expect fewer updates to the site while I take some time to really get a grip on my reality and what I'm doing with it. Thank you.

Peace

Time as Such, is a Liar -Pt.2-

It ended nearly as quickly as it had started, at without knowing what exactly had happened to him, John sat up rather quickly. He glanced around in bemusement searching for some sort of indicator for what he just experienced, there was nothing. Then he began to notice at least one difference, mere seconds before he had felt sickly and hardly able of movement but once the, 'moment', he decided to call it had ended he felt renewed of life and energy.

He was wholly unsure why it had happened, yet the thought of complaining hadn't entered his mind, instead he was running off toward the kitchen still quite naked. John hadn't quite realized just how hungry he was until just then. He was rushing himself, fridge-eggs-milk-pan-stove-timer...then he began to notice something strange. He looked around suspiciously, his clocks were all missing. He ran back to bedroom he had awoken in and scrambled to search his bedside table, the watch his father had given him was gone. He opened his front door and grabbed the newspaper, there was no date printed in the top left hand corner as there had been every other day previous.

"What the hell is going on?" he murmured so quietly he wasn't even sure if he had said it at all, "Something is very, very wrong here. It couldn't just be a prank, could it? No, there's no way, the 'moment' and then the sudden burst of energy. Beside, the guys could have never pulled a fast one this elaborate."

He dressed himself in a bit of a rush, leaving the eggs and milk he had taken out earlier on the counter, and took off out the front door to try and find some answers. From the seemingly placid look of his neighborhood, it appeared to John as if no one else had noticed or cared, but with a quick glance to the sky he realized that it was just barely daylight. He thought it could be roughly 4am, none of his neighbors would have woken by then anyway and still he continued running down the road toward somewhere.

Time as Such, is a Liar -Pt.1-

John woke up in a state of disarray, his sheets drenched with his sweat and a horrible pulsing feeling in his head. He felt weak and had to forcibly remove himself from where he had been laying down. Shivering as the fan above blew cold bursts of wind over his wet and shaking body, he began to make his way out of the room. He only made it a few feet before lurching over and puking all over the place, his stomach heaving as if it were trying to remove some vicious contaminant.

“Disgusting,” he muttered to himself as he stared blankly at the now messy floor, “what the hell is wrong with me? I haven't eaten anything bad lately...not that I know of at least. And I sure as hell hadn't been drinking...I better clean up.”

He carefully hoisted himself back up from the nearby desk and held himself there standing for a moment, his legs were wobbly and a strong bout of dizziness had struck him. Once he regained his balance he headed into the dark hallway just beyond his bedroom door and fumbled blindly, feeling his way to the end where the door awaited him. After opening the door he had to shield his eyes, a blinding light was shining in through the open window in the next room. This made his stomach begin to lurch ever so slightly again, he decided it would be best if he hurried himself to the bathroom. Once he made it, he lunged his face over the pearly white sink and became sick again. He was feeling rather light-headed by this point but managed to twist on the shower nozzle despite, he waited for it to warm up before peeling off his soggy clothes and jump in.

After a small struggle to actually hoist himself into the ceramic tub, John laid down with steaming water raining upon his convulsing body. He stared upward at the spigot that was soothing his seemingly beaten body when something happened. His vision began to fade as he was pulled into a sort of tunnel consisting of swirling, pulsing lights and colors. His body felt as though it was stretching along the entire length of the tunnel all at once and yet he also felt as though he was only standing two inches tall. His perception of life was stripped away in a sudden flash and then it was over.

Small Changes

After a little consideration, I've decided to split the posts up into three separate parts spread throughout the week. The post just seemed a bit too long the way I had it set up before. Also, I know that my dialogue is probably horrible, but I'm going to keep up with this and hopefully they will get better as time goes on. Definitely not as sad as this one is for sure.

Also, as you can see, I've changed the template for the site. This one looks like it has wider columns in the posting area to help with the stories seeming much longer than they are. Also, I've got my sister blog in the works now and will have more information on it later.

So for now, enjoy my first story and I should have another ready for next week.

On a Dark Rainy Day -Pt.3-

“It looks like it’s going to be raining like cats and dogs today, eh Bobby?” he questioned while looking towards the dark skies above. “Bit unusual for this time of the year, normally the sun’s just starting to come over those mountains way over there,” he pointed out in the distance beyond the city limits.

Little Bobby stared upward at the clouds looming above the city, “They look like mean clouds, daddy. I don’t like them!”

His father chuckled at the thought of clouds being mean, as if they could come down from the heavens and clobber them with big puffy fists. However, he decided anyway to take the slower way to work today so as not to make the trip any more frightening for his son considering that the rain was coming down rather hard. It also worked out in his favor because there happened to be a really great little restaurant along this route that he thought would be a great place to get some breakfast.

He checked the dashboard clock, he still had plenty of time to get stop and get some food before he would be late for work. He drove a little ways further before turning around in his seat to talk with his boy, “You still hungry, champ?”

“Umm….yeah, I’m pretty hu---”

Robert was dazed, his vision shot and a deafening ringing in his ears as he scrambled around trying to figure out what had happened. His brain felt scrambled, and he had a sharp pain below his abdomen which he forced himself to ignore as he searched for his son blindly.

Bobby laid motionless, aside from his breathing, in the backseat of the vehicle; blood streaked across his face where the shattered window had cut him. His breathing quick, short and not a steady rhythm as he laid there unconscious, he was lost in a dream and unaware that he and his father had just been in a horrible accident. He dreamed of playing with his toys on his bedroom floor and running around in the backyard while his mother smiled on at him.

Robert still fumbled around madly, as he slowly regained his sight he found his son. He tried to move but was wedged and couldn’t free himself of the wreckage. He pushed himself harder and harder to stretch his arm back there to reach him. He screamed in anger at himself, in anguish for his wife and son and in agony from the pain. He grabbed his son’s hand, they died together and both found heaven.