Prose makes the world go 'round.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
You see this knife? I'm gonna teach you to speak english with this fucking knifeW
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Remember me.
Last night, I was rereading some of the stuff I wrote when I was very young. I had pages and pages of thoughts, theories, short stories, poetry, etc. Somehow, between the poor grammar, the nonsense and the general illiteracy that comes with being a kid, I found my very first poem. It was the only thing I'd ever written that had was for a real person. A girl who was kinda my rival and my crush growing up.
I remember writing it like it was only yesterday. I remember struggling to make words rhyme, and having an even harder time thinking of a title. I ended up not giving it a title at all, and leaving it with the idea that it sucked and was unfinished.
Anyways, I decided to rewrite it in hopes that I could do it some justice after all these years.
Here's the original, spelling errors and all:
Don't laugh, I was just a kid. Not even ten yet if I remember correctly. And believe it or not, my penmanship hasn't improved at all since then.
I stayed up all night thinking about it, and after a few drinks, I decided to see what I could do.
Here's what I came up with:
"Lowly, lost and gone astray.
Wayward sun, return the day.
Life lost deep in dizzy sway.
Lightless night, obscure the way.
Wayward sun, return the day.
Life lost deep in dizzy sway.
Lightless night, obscure the way.
Well, I wonder where she is today.
My friend, my foe. The one that got away."
The ending feels weak, but I think I improved it a bit. Still can't think of a title, but at least it's finished.
P.S. I looked her up and she's a junkie now. Life's funny.
- Jekyll.
Tuesday Morning.
A real poet isn't a "nice guy". He's not a friend. He finds no inspiration in a pretty summer afternoon. He finds it in at the very bottom of the deepest barrel. A real poet is as dangerous as he is desperate. He'll sell your heart to the junkman for a buck, and put that buck toward a bottle to drink until he can't stand. Then, he'll drink some more.
Byron.
Realm of the Mad God!
So, earlier I came across this game called Realm of the Mad God.
I decided to give it a shot, since I had some time to kill. A few hours later, I realized how much time had actually gone by. I must admit, this game is pretty awesome.
Check it out and let me know what you think.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)