Archive for Fiction
On the corner of darkness
November 5th, 2008 • 2 comments Emoshitness, Fiction, Narratives, Thoughts
Tags: dark, dragons, dreams, harry potter, room, wizard
The clicks of the keyboard fill in the dark room as I push the keys non-stop. The bright light of the monitor penetrated my inflamed eyes as I could feel nothing but the twitching of my eyebrows. I could feel insects creeping up the walls but I was too busy to mind them. I kept on typing words I don’t understand and sentences that I couldn’t seem to follow. Then, something in my head made me stop the flow of words in the monitor. Then there was silence in the dusk.
I heard footsteps slowly going to a direction I don’t know. Then the door creaked open as I immediately turned my head to see who was there. It was my mother, calling me to eat dinner. She was speaking out words I don’t know, perhaps, a different language. But why did my mind know what she meant? I gently pushed the chair backwards and stood up. I walked my way to the door with numb feet and aching knees. It was a weird feeling, to tell you the truth, as if I was an old man trying to walk unsupported in spite of arthritis.
As I reached for the door, my hand was shaking and my elbow was making a squeaky noise. I turned the knob but the door didn’t open. I tried again, but still, it won’t let me out. With all my strength, I let out another shot to open the door. And when it opened, a bunch of clothes exploded out on me. Damn! It was the closet.
I kept on crawling in the dark as I was looking for the door. My hands were feeling the floor and I was moving…moving…until my head hit the wall. I was hurt and just sat myself on the floor as I let the pain own me.
On the corner of darkness, I sat. Meters away from me, the computer was still open, the text I was writing was still there. I stood up and walked some inches in the side of the room but I suddenly tripped on something. It felt like a wire, but I don’t know…everything was dark. Then, a lightning cracked and hatched a loud thunder and a strong gush of downpour fell down. And on the other side of the room, the light beaming out from the monitor was suddenly gone. I immediately thought that the wire I tripped on was the extension wire to which the computer was plugged in. I couldn’t see the text that I typed anymore. And it was just then that I realized that I didn’t save my work. The text…the long text with huge paragraphs and random sentences was gone…my dreams were gone. My random dreams in life which I kept on typing the whole day were gone.
On the corner of darkness, I sat. Meters away from me, the computer was off, the text I was writing was no more there. I felt another hit in the head when I thought that instead of looking for the door, for the way out, I should have looked for the light switch first so that everything in the room was clear. I should have reached for the right door, I should have not accidentally unplugged the computer, and I should have saved my work, the text, my dreams.
On the corner of darkness, I stood up. I looked for the light and switched it on. I plugged the computer and typed again the lost text. I saved it and went for the door and went out of the room.
There were regrets, I know. But someday, I shall be a very good artist or a writer or a mathematician or a scientist, while saving millions of lives each day with dragons flying with me or with house elves serving me a hot cup of coffee each morning. And I know, Harry Potter shall be a very good wizard friend.
Stay plastic. Stay tragic.
October 20th, 2008 • 5 comments Fiction, Humor, Narratives, Random, Thoughts, XXX
TRAGIC — “”I swear to Walt Disney kid, I’m going to rape you!”
***BEWARE: Uber-lengthy and contains unpleasant words. Lolz. But heck, who cares? Read on…
A real tragic story starts and ends with dullness, and with people who claim to be devastated when it is obvious they’re stoned, dressed in stupid costumes and pretending to die.
One tragic story begins in a far away land where there is nothing but tall, brown grasses. Along the vast area of boring grass and orange sunset, lies a small hut. Living there is a young, fine lady of the name Snowball. Snowball loves to wander off the woods, fluttering like moronic butterflies, swaying her rugged smelly skirt, and singing dumb songs only a fairy-tale tramp would only most likely to sing.
Snowball lives with her aging parents who do nothing for a living, but picking fruits and vegetables from someone else’s farm. One morning, while Snowball’s parents were out to steal food, Snowball was at her bedroom window, talking to birds like a schizophrenic prostitute. “What should I do today, bird?” asked Snowball.
“Tweeeet. Tweet. Tweeeeet.” answered the bird.
“That’s a great idea, bird. But I can’t. Mother and Father would get angry if they would know I’m out.”
“Tweeeeeeeeeeet. Tweeet.”
“Are you sure they won’t know?”
“Tweeet.”
“Okay then, let’s go out.”
Birds are a bad influence. I knew those tweeets mean something. Anyway, so Snowball went out, frolicking in the woods, singing and talking to animals. Fairy tales sure are full of retards. But heck, kids love that.
Before tragedy came in, Snowball felt tired from all that craziness she’d been doing. So, when she came by a stream in the middle of the woods, she felt a bit exhausted. So she took her dirty dress off and dipped into the cold stream, totally nekkid. Birds kept on tweeting, rabbits kept on hopping, and wolves kept of howling as the nekkid Snowball dipped herself, deeper and deeper, into the cold stream.
Why does everyone hate me?
September 9th, 2008 • 6 comments Angst, Fiction, Humor, Pointless, Random, XXX
Tags: emo, everybody, geek, hate, hell
Haha! With this funky clothes and this calculator, I will surely get my classmates’ respect!
August 1, 2007
Dear Diary,
At school, the bully in class dumped his lunch in my backpack. When I confronted him, he planted his fist on my nose. I was bleeding, so I was sent to the clinic to get some cure. But when the nurse was doing my nose, it hurt, so I was kinda groaning out of paining. Then the nurse, told me, “Shut the fuck up, kid. You’ll get your fucking big mouth in blood too if you don’t shut up!”
August 6, 2007
Dear Diary,
Our science experiment with raw eggs was fun but my classmates threw them at me after science class. I was crying but everyone was laughing. When I got home, I told my dad about what happened at school, and he said, “Whatever, loser!”. I hate my dad.
August 10, 2007
Dear Diary,
We had a pop quiz in Math about division of fractions. Of course I got a perfect score and a kick from Jerry. The pain was terrible and it felt like my nuts changed place with my kidneys. I went to the restroom and saw my pants all covered with blood. When the janitor saw me, he kept on laughing and he said, “God! You’re dick’s menstruating!”.
The next thing I knew, I was sent to the hospital.
August 13, 2007
Dear Diary,
I felt a bit of relief when I knew I was in the hospital, at least, I’m far from my classmates and from the kids at school. One time, a group of doctors came near my hospital bed and talked to me:
“Hey! Are you the kid with the bleeding groin?”
“Uhh…yeah.”
“Hahahahahaha!!! Are you wearing napkin today? ‘Cause you might just mess up the hospital bed with boy mens! Hahahahahahaha!!!”
I don’t think there’s anything funny there. God, I hate doctors.
August 16, 2007
Dear Diary,
On the way home from the hospital, dad (who was driving the car) crushed a beer bottle at my head and pushed me out of his car. On the freeway. At 200 mph. I hate my dad.
I was sent again to the hospital and got broken ribs, fractured spine, and crushed arms.
