December 2011
28 posts
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“Son, I could tell you a thousand different stories about her, and you...”
– Unknown
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“I find myself hating the beauty of the world, in that it is not mine to hold,...”
– The Centennial Writer
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A Few Notes While Arriving Home
It was the first hour after Christmas, and there was little traffic on the roads ahead.
“Look,” I thought to myself, “the road almost seems to slip under us, like water.”
The drumming in my head was almost unbearable, but the familiar turn of the car into an even more familiar street left me in a calm state. It was only after exiting the vehicle when I realized how good...
I really enjoy the role of being observer, overseer, or just bystander.
A thought had come across me earlier. People could never truly call upon a memory, no matter how vivid it stays in the mind. Somewhere, information and emotion are lost in translation. I wish I were like the Doctor, a Time Lord. I would just go to the time and watch it being played out. Perhaps I could watch someone grow up,...
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For exactly one minute we talked.
There isn’t much to say, really.
But, for that moment, I felt like everything I’ve been working towards these past few weeks, everything I’ve built up these past few months, is tangible.
It’s really quite simple.
So simple, in fact, that I will now turn off my social media connections. The reason for this is quite strange: to get...
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Emilie: I want something that'll last forever.
The Centennial Writer: You've got your life to attest for that, it's enough of a forever you'll see. If you want to leave an imprint in the world (besides your carbon footprint), go make art, write music, sing to people, make them laugh, cry, smile, and laugh some more. Do whatever you're doing now! You could even kick a rock and that would make all the more difference, and do you know why? It's because the rock would have never known movement without you there.
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“She was once so beautiful in my mind’s eye, and my heart could never do...”
– The Centennial Writer
I spend my nights on the computer looking for something I’ve lost.
Most of the time, it’s to fill the emptiness that all humans have. The trouble is that searching and looking makes the lonesome sound grow louder and more violent. All I can do to mend and seal this innate sense of melancholy is live life as it comes. Though I write this with a firm hand, I cannot do more to...
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I had a conversation with an old friend recently, and this he said to me:
“Whatever you have right now isn’t gonna last forever, it’s plain and simple. But, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t put your all into it, because you should take as much as you can from the experience.”
I agree with him whole-heartedly, and I believe his advice to be of great ease to...
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“Those envelopes are still sealed, hidden between pages of a novel I have no...”
– The Centennial Writer
This is merely an idea, or a future plan of something.
Maybe sometime soon, when I find a break or some quiet place, I’ll write on some of my past loves. I had planned on making a sketch of Jane Doe, and how she had become a metaphor with those tarnished jeans. I had planned on dreaming back into that old reverie named Claire, or run through my mind again that girl who had stars in her...
As I would work, the slow and audible click-clack of rain drops against leaves and pavement approached. The wind would whisper as it did once before, though not from the freeway. One could almost hear the soil absorbing the wetness, bringing it down to moisten the roots of plants which did not want to die, and the rain would lap around again. Much like a dog would sniff and explore around a new...
What a wonderful thing it is, this night. I had begun in my usual langor, macbook in hand and eyes glued to the screen. Then I became more and more worrisome for my work, so I set it aside not before turning on some of Cole’s work (how I do enjoy the piano in the late night). As tenacious as I tackled my work, I had noticed a change in my environment. There was a familiar drumming noise from...
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“The drumming of the alarm clock’s hammers drills inside of me the...”
– The Centennial Writer
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allinthebones:
102 Resources for Fiction Writers
vulpesinculta:
Are you still stuck for ideas for National Novel Writing Month? Or are you working on a novel at a more leisurely pace? Here are 102 resources on Character, Point of View, Dialogue, Plot, Conflict, Structure, Outlining, Setting, and World Building, plus some links to generate Ideas and Inspiration.
CHARACTER, POINT OF VIEW,...
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Read what I say: don’t live life as a metaphor.
If you do, you just apply boundaries to yourself, restricting you to a single ideal. You don’t want that for yourself, mate. You can’t possibly see it unless you’ve been plagued with it. Seriously, the metaphors are only good in ideas, concepts, and writing, not for life to be judged upon.
I’ll take your metaphor for...
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“If I can tell you anything, I’d tell you to not look so deeply or too...”
– The Centennial Writer to a Young Man
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It’s not just the teenage blues Or the other day’s bruise. Not the many little scratches.
It’s the incredible, overwhelming Tide of all of my rights and wrong-doing that leaves me in stitches.
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“To My Grandfather.
I’m sure you did what you had to do because you...”
– Always, your grandson,
Ryan.
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pepperannn: Being just fine isn't good though in my opinion. Everyone should at least try their best to be happy. I realize that we all can't be happy all the time, but if it's most of the time, it's at least good. Most of our worries come from the past or the future, and everyone in our society is so wound up in both, that we've forgotten how to live in the present.
The Centennial Writer: Perhaps you're right. During my time of procrastination and disregard of precalculus, I looked introspectively to see a skinny, mean man. I'm no stranger to him, but I'm always sad that he has to be this way. I've been living by a thread each day, and I'm always out of breath by the end of each day. "There's a tomorrow," I always say to myself, "You did good for a fat arse today. Try not to die tomorrow." I'm going to be candid; I've been coddling myself, and frankly, I'm sick of it. I've been warping myself from the past to the future, I'll continue on with the present starting now, in this office, with my fingers off the keyboard. Thanks, Pepper Ann, ;) I'm going to focus on my discipline. Then my body, my physical fitness. After those two things have occurred, then my mind will be free with life without the openness of dying.
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Visatori: I was in a foreign city at night, and... →
visatori:
I was in a foreign city at night, and the streets were deserted. The streets were of sand, and the buildings were low under the star-studded sky. Their curvaceous architecture and white exteriors made me believe it to be of middle-eastern decent. I wandered for a while, until I cam across a…
This is a dreamer’s blog I contribute to. You can find my entries off to the...
