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[WP]Everyone on earth has a "brain buddy", half the time you hear their thoughts, and half the time they hear your thoughts. Nobody has ever realised this or met their brain buddy, until you find yours accidentally. | I feel like I don’t always know myself. I mean, I guess that’s not uncommon - many people don’t feel comfortable in their own skin. Normally, I do feel comfortable, but my recent breakup made the subconscious voices louder in my head and I was a little off lately. Who doesn’t occasionally think “why did I do that?” or “hmmm, I never thought about it like that but it seems perfectly obvious” or even the more practical “why did I come into this room?” And then there are the more bizarre thoughts we all have like “if I just suddenly took a few steps forward, I could jump off this building and nothing would stop my fall but the pavement below.” They say when you have those thoughts, it means you’re mentally healthy because you have the rational mind to understand the consequences of that kind of action and it keeps you in check. I don’t know if I buy that. Those dark thoughts are, after all, dark and foreboding, and I’m generally an upbeat kind of guy. And besides, they had gated the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower long ago, so really, it was just a passing thought.
I got a bit of a chill at these thoughts, so I stuffed my hands into my pockets and stepped back from the ledge.
“The view is a bit unnerving, isn’t it?” a voice behind me said. Its owner’s hand touched my shoulder stopping me from backing up farther. I nearly stepped on his toes.
“Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was behind me.” He nodded casually with a *no worries* look on his face. “I don’t know,” I continued, “I kind of like heights. When I’m on the ground I feel… contained. Up here, I’m free. I can see everything, look over it all, and I enjoy how everything flows.” I took my hand out of my pocket and waved it over the view to emphasize my point.
“You’re a braver man than I. This is as close as I get.” He paused then took a step back to demonstrate his opinion. I smiled.
“I’m Sam,” he extended his hand.
*He looks like a Sam*, I thought as I shook his hand. “Ethan,” I offered. “Nice to meet you.”
Sam was one of those guys you just instantly liked. He had a friendly face, looked you in the eye, and the conversation was always easy, effortless. I felt like I’d known him for years. “You too,” he smiled back. “You here on holiday, I take it?”
“Yeah, I flew in from Los Angeles two days ago.” Sam looked around, a little puzzled. “Oh, I came alone. Long story.” I shook my head, expecting to leave it at that, but I was compelled to explain. Sam was easy to talk to. I shrugged. “I was engaged to be married. Three days ago was the wedding, but… Things happen. Anyway, we’re not together anymore and I couldn’t let the honeymoon tickets go to waste. I sold one and kept the other, so here I am.”
“Sorry to hear that, mate,” he clapped me on the shoulder. “Look, if you’re not busy, how about you join me and the misuses for lunch?”
“Oh I couldn’t intrude,” I began but was cut off by someone else approaching.
“What do you think, Sam?” A beautiful woman skipped up to Sam and wrapped one arm around his waist. “Lovely, I say, but I can’t shake the thought from my head that if these gate things weren’t here, I could step forward and just toss myself off!” She swept her free arm wide to demonstrate, and nearly hit me.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” she clapped her hand over her mouth, apologetically. “I honestly didn’t see you there.” And then she frowned. “You must think I’m mad. I don’t *really* want to toss myself off the tower. I just have these weird thoughts all the time. They say it’s alright to have them, because it means you’re aware of actions and consequences.”
“Laura, this is Ethan. He’s on holiday and I’ve invited him to lunch with us.”
“Wonderful!” Laura smiled and shook my hand vigorously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Then her tone changed and she frowned. “Oh, on holiday alone? Did someone...? I mean…” and she was fumbling awkwardly. Was it that obvious I had come alone? Maybe my wife was just around the corner for all Laura knew.
“No, no,” I said. “It’s okay. I mean, yes, someone did, but it’s okay. Shall we?” I pointed to the elevator.
I sat down with my fresh frites and quickly burned my fingers. Laura gasped with me and empathicly stuck her fingers in her mouth as if trying to sooth mine. I resisted the urge to mirror that action and resorted to cooling them on my cold drink. We lunched on the benches at the base of the tower and chatted about nothing really. Laura was chatty but I liked talking to Sam. It was almost an attraction and I had to shake it out of my head more than once. Laura clung to him like he was going to get away if she didn’t. I couldn’t shake the thought of her empathic gesture and the way she mirrored my dark thought about jumping from the tower. And then there was this strange attraction to Sam.
I focused my thoughts on the back of my neck. *Let’s see if I can make myself itch*. I thought of leaves brushing the back of my neck. Nope. Not itchy. I thought of bugs crawling around there. A little tingly at this thought. Then I imagined the bug biting down hard.
Laura reached up and slapped the back of her neck. “Ouch!”
“You alright?” Sam asked. Laura nodded. Sam continued to talk but I wasn’t listening.
*The back of my leg*, I thought. *A bug is climbing on the back of my leg*. Laura reached down and scratched the back of her leg.
*Okay, this is really weird,* I thought. *My chest. I’m going to grab my breast, now*. I smiled to myself. This was a little twisted but I was getting lost in the fun of it. Laura slowly reached her hand up to her chest, then stopped suddenly.
She looked up from her frites and stared me in the eye. Her voice, yes it was most definitely her voice echoing loudly in my head: “Don’t you dare, Ethan! And quit eyeballing my husband.” | In my mind's eye, I saw her face. Her green, almond eyes, and her aquiline nose. Her braided, brunette hair. Her thinly, elegant lips. She wore a green, baggy college sweatshirt, with the words "NOTRE DAME" plastered in white. She held her pajama'd legs close to her heart as she stared at herself in the full-length mirror of her room. Her tear-stained cheeks spoke more words than her thoughts could process.
I never met her. And I loved her.
I remember when I turned 13. It was a Tuesday. Definitely a Tuesday. My parents didn't get me anything that year, except for their leftover tacos from Taco Tuesdays at O'Houlihan's Pub. But the greatest gift didn't come with a side of pico de gallo. It came from my new brain buddy.
Some people believe that, when our bodies begin the process of puberty, our minds' powers expand beyond the limits and understandings of science. Others simply write it off as "a surge in schizophrenic episodes." April was real. April is real.
On that birthday, she was the only one who listened. She could hear every thought that echoed through my body. She felt my pain, my laughter, my rage, and I felt her sadness. We were afraid we were going crazy, but we took solace in knowing that the craziest people in the world never felt alone.
We would talk with our thoughts. *I need inspiration to get myself out of bed,* I would frequently think. Moments later, she always thought right back: *I'll inspire you, if you inspire me.* We were our biggest cheerleaders when we were down. Our biggest supporters when the weight of the world was too heavy. We were connected.
I've always wanted to meet April, ever since she showed me a picture of herself in high school. She would stare intently at a photo, and paint for me breathtaking portraits. Every now and then, the image would distort. Her nose would grow, her teeth would become crooked. So I would help. I would take the image in her mind's eye, and show her what I saw: a beautiful woman, inside and out.
I never met April. And I loved her.
*I still do.*
It's been ten years since our first conversation. We've grown up, gone to college, found adult jobs. We talk daily, though, sometimes, she'd ask if I could "compartmentalize" a little more. Lines drawn in the sand. Acceptable, even encouraged.
Sometimes we'd fight. Loud thoughts hurt just as much as loud screams. But we always made up, because we knew each other inside and out. And, for what it's worth, we embraced each other, when we could barely embrace ourselves.
For all intents and purposes, we were soulmates. But I never imagined that, on a rainy Tuesday, in a small town outside Kansas City, in a small coffee shop off Main and Cedar, I would find her in front of me, ordering a macchiato and a cookie. We came to the same realization at the same time: *You.*
I asked her if she wanted to sit, to talk for a few minutes. Instead, we sat in silence, and stared. Minutes felt like hours. She left quietly, with a murmur of "I have to go." I watched her leave, the woman of my dreams.
She was inconsolable when she got home. I tried telling her, *We weren't ready. Maybe if we planned a meeting, so we can actually meet each other...*
But she drowned me out in her depression.
I never met April. And I loved her.
*I still do.* | |
[WP]Everyone on earth has a "brain buddy", half the time you hear their thoughts, and half the time they hear your thoughts. Nobody has ever realised this or met their brain buddy, until you find yours accidentally. | I feel like I don’t always know myself. I mean, I guess that’s not uncommon - many people don’t feel comfortable in their own skin. Normally, I do feel comfortable, but my recent breakup made the subconscious voices louder in my head and I was a little off lately. Who doesn’t occasionally think “why did I do that?” or “hmmm, I never thought about it like that but it seems perfectly obvious” or even the more practical “why did I come into this room?” And then there are the more bizarre thoughts we all have like “if I just suddenly took a few steps forward, I could jump off this building and nothing would stop my fall but the pavement below.” They say when you have those thoughts, it means you’re mentally healthy because you have the rational mind to understand the consequences of that kind of action and it keeps you in check. I don’t know if I buy that. Those dark thoughts are, after all, dark and foreboding, and I’m generally an upbeat kind of guy. And besides, they had gated the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower long ago, so really, it was just a passing thought.
I got a bit of a chill at these thoughts, so I stuffed my hands into my pockets and stepped back from the ledge.
“The view is a bit unnerving, isn’t it?” a voice behind me said. Its owner’s hand touched my shoulder stopping me from backing up farther. I nearly stepped on his toes.
“Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was behind me.” He nodded casually with a *no worries* look on his face. “I don’t know,” I continued, “I kind of like heights. When I’m on the ground I feel… contained. Up here, I’m free. I can see everything, look over it all, and I enjoy how everything flows.” I took my hand out of my pocket and waved it over the view to emphasize my point.
“You’re a braver man than I. This is as close as I get.” He paused then took a step back to demonstrate his opinion. I smiled.
“I’m Sam,” he extended his hand.
*He looks like a Sam*, I thought as I shook his hand. “Ethan,” I offered. “Nice to meet you.”
Sam was one of those guys you just instantly liked. He had a friendly face, looked you in the eye, and the conversation was always easy, effortless. I felt like I’d known him for years. “You too,” he smiled back. “You here on holiday, I take it?”
“Yeah, I flew in from Los Angeles two days ago.” Sam looked around, a little puzzled. “Oh, I came alone. Long story.” I shook my head, expecting to leave it at that, but I was compelled to explain. Sam was easy to talk to. I shrugged. “I was engaged to be married. Three days ago was the wedding, but… Things happen. Anyway, we’re not together anymore and I couldn’t let the honeymoon tickets go to waste. I sold one and kept the other, so here I am.”
“Sorry to hear that, mate,” he clapped me on the shoulder. “Look, if you’re not busy, how about you join me and the misuses for lunch?”
“Oh I couldn’t intrude,” I began but was cut off by someone else approaching.
“What do you think, Sam?” A beautiful woman skipped up to Sam and wrapped one arm around his waist. “Lovely, I say, but I can’t shake the thought from my head that if these gate things weren’t here, I could step forward and just toss myself off!” She swept her free arm wide to demonstrate, and nearly hit me.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” she clapped her hand over her mouth, apologetically. “I honestly didn’t see you there.” And then she frowned. “You must think I’m mad. I don’t *really* want to toss myself off the tower. I just have these weird thoughts all the time. They say it’s alright to have them, because it means you’re aware of actions and consequences.”
“Laura, this is Ethan. He’s on holiday and I’ve invited him to lunch with us.”
“Wonderful!” Laura smiled and shook my hand vigorously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Then her tone changed and she frowned. “Oh, on holiday alone? Did someone...? I mean…” and she was fumbling awkwardly. Was it that obvious I had come alone? Maybe my wife was just around the corner for all Laura knew.
“No, no,” I said. “It’s okay. I mean, yes, someone did, but it’s okay. Shall we?” I pointed to the elevator.
I sat down with my fresh frites and quickly burned my fingers. Laura gasped with me and empathicly stuck her fingers in her mouth as if trying to sooth mine. I resisted the urge to mirror that action and resorted to cooling them on my cold drink. We lunched on the benches at the base of the tower and chatted about nothing really. Laura was chatty but I liked talking to Sam. It was almost an attraction and I had to shake it out of my head more than once. Laura clung to him like he was going to get away if she didn’t. I couldn’t shake the thought of her empathic gesture and the way she mirrored my dark thought about jumping from the tower. And then there was this strange attraction to Sam.
I focused my thoughts on the back of my neck. *Let’s see if I can make myself itch*. I thought of leaves brushing the back of my neck. Nope. Not itchy. I thought of bugs crawling around there. A little tingly at this thought. Then I imagined the bug biting down hard.
Laura reached up and slapped the back of her neck. “Ouch!”
“You alright?” Sam asked. Laura nodded. Sam continued to talk but I wasn’t listening.
*The back of my leg*, I thought. *A bug is climbing on the back of my leg*. Laura reached down and scratched the back of her leg.
*Okay, this is really weird,* I thought. *My chest. I’m going to grab my breast, now*. I smiled to myself. This was a little twisted but I was getting lost in the fun of it. Laura slowly reached her hand up to her chest, then stopped suddenly.
She looked up from her frites and stared me in the eye. Her voice, yes it was most definitely her voice echoing loudly in my head: “Don’t you dare, Ethan! And quit eyeballing my husband.” | *Oh, thank the heavens this store has some a/c going on... It's hot as hell outside... If I had to stand in a line like this one I'd just sweat all over. Hell, I'm not even that much out of shape, and yet I sweat endlessly.... I wonder if this line will move someday soon... Hey, that guy on the other line also has a band shirt. Looks like Iron Maiden from here, same as mine, what a coincidence. Oh, crap, he's looking at me, I could barely notice it behind all that hair. I must look like a creep now. Dude looks like fucking Slash with that haircut*
*No, on second thought, he doesn't, it strikes more of a Conan the Barbarian type*
*... Where... Where the hell did that thought come from?*
-----------------------------------------------------------
The first paragraph is supposed to be a bit ambiguous, as it's a combination of both people's thoughts. The way I interpreted the prompt, both people think so much alike that most of the time their thoughts are nearly indistinguishable, to the point only a physical difference makes them realize they're two different people, at which point their thoughts can be more easily recognizable. Hope it didn't end up being too bad... | |
[WP]Everyone on earth has a "brain buddy", half the time you hear their thoughts, and half the time they hear your thoughts. Nobody has ever realised this or met their brain buddy, until you find yours accidentally. | 'Father, forgive me for I have sinned'. He sits down within the confines of the booth. A pool of water forms by his feet, unsurprisingly, it was El Nino season.
*shhhhhck* the slit slides open with ease. It's metal hinges and frames emitted the faint smell of WD-40. The Father is a creature of a cleanly habit.
'Good evening Son' The Father inquired giving a brief glance through the slit, but darkness hid his visitor well. "who the hell is this son of a bitch" he thought, "hiding behind a wall is a pretty stupid rule".
'Father I'll go ahead and start'
'Okay, speak your mind for the Lord is forgiving and has an open heart for you'
'I know that Father, but...but I can't help but to think sometimes....' he trailed off. 'Sometimes I wonder what this whole thing is about, you know? If um... Christ really does exist...if he loves me'
'Of course he does my son, Jesus works through mysterious ways, but all always lead to the door of heaven. So long as your faith never waivers, neither will your salvation' A sigh escapes The Father. 'Why do you have such doubt, child?'
'Well...gee I don't even know how to, uh, explain...ummmm' a long pause follows. 4 drips of water from the visitor's coat gives its salutation to the wood beneath it before the silence breaks.
'Ever since I was young I've always had these thoughts Father. That...all of this is one huge farce. A lie...if you will. Manufactured by some crazy people to extort the charity of good people. You know what I'm sorry, this is crazy, I shouldn't really be giving you this kind of-'
'No no no no no' insisted The Father 'Please continue, here within this space all things are held sacred. It really wouldn't be confession would it?' he gave a faint smile, one of course, the visitor couldn't see behind the slit.
'Alright...well I've always held this suspicion that...that reading all this ethics and morals from this stupid book with a completely anonymous author is just...well...moronic' The visitor shifted a bit. The conflict echoed within his fidgeting. 'I'm an environmental scientists, I study poverty, climate change, social welfare. You know name it. And while I was raised in the light of our lord, I can't help but notice how wrong this world is, and how little our mysterious Lord can do to change this'.
'Mhm' nodded The Father. Eyebrows raised, the slit still hid it all.
'How do you do it Father?' the voice sounded desperate, yet impregnated with confidence. 'How do you look at this world around us, the science, the facts, our discovery's in physics...and still tell yourself that this is all one huge set-up by some fucking mystery man in the sky?!' Now anger broke through. 'I mean, I don't mean to be rude by I have been reading this book by er....Richard Dawkins recently, and he...uh....well he makes a pretty convincing point Father'.
The Father remained undisturbed. He's seen worse in his line before, and simply thankful that tonight he didn't have to see a serial killer.
'My son' he began, another sigh soon followed. 'All things is this world require a measure of faith' The Father finally turned toward the slit, determined to make his voice heard. 'These theoretical physicist, the doubters, the lay people...all require a sense of the abstract...a suspension of the facts, if you will. Nothing is ever wholly true, nor wholly false, and even science will admit that my child. Thus our, how should I put this...our limiting factor is essentially how much faith we put towards each thought. How we are willing to see our world and our reality'.
The visitor was enraptured in the monologue. The Father knew.
'What you see in this life...what you perceive... is only ever what you want it to be. We a victims of an unshakable bias. Our personal bias. And within this chaos of life, we must find whatever it is that gives us stability and comfort, lest we degrade to the beasts that dwells within our soul. Do you understand?'
The visitor nodded, staring at the wooden floor. The Father knew the nod happened, the booth was small and ancient. The wood always creaked with movement.
'Could use some more WD-40' thought the visitor. He checked his watch. 'Father I'm sorry but I have to run, but your words did indeed soothe my anxiety a bit...but um....I might be back soon of that's okay?'
'Of course' replied The Father.
'Thanks' and with that the visitor left the church and its booth, leaving the Father alone in the dark. 5 minutes passed before he stepped out of the booth as well.
'What an odd man' thought the Father. He walked towards the front of the church with a mug, dipped it within the holy water, and took a deep drink. 'Whew, I was thirsty!' He said aloud. He placed his mug next to the book he brought with him. A worn novel with a small cross carved into the front. He picked it up and thumbed through it, pages wafting the stale air as each flipped with increasing speed. The father chuckled and placed it on the altar.
'I'll just worry about this all tomorrow' he murmured to himself and exited into the night.
Upon the table where the book lay, just above the scratched in cross read a title. "The God Delusion". | *Oh, thank the heavens this store has some a/c going on... It's hot as hell outside... If I had to stand in a line like this one I'd just sweat all over. Hell, I'm not even that much out of shape, and yet I sweat endlessly.... I wonder if this line will move someday soon... Hey, that guy on the other line also has a band shirt. Looks like Iron Maiden from here, same as mine, what a coincidence. Oh, crap, he's looking at me, I could barely notice it behind all that hair. I must look like a creep now. Dude looks like fucking Slash with that haircut*
*No, on second thought, he doesn't, it strikes more of a Conan the Barbarian type*
*... Where... Where the hell did that thought come from?*
-----------------------------------------------------------
The first paragraph is supposed to be a bit ambiguous, as it's a combination of both people's thoughts. The way I interpreted the prompt, both people think so much alike that most of the time their thoughts are nearly indistinguishable, to the point only a physical difference makes them realize they're two different people, at which point their thoughts can be more easily recognizable. Hope it didn't end up being too bad... | |
[WP]Everyone on earth has a "brain buddy", half the time you hear their thoughts, and half the time they hear your thoughts. Nobody has ever realised this or met their brain buddy, until you find yours accidentally. | <Ok, this is the stupidist thing in the world.> I thought to myself as I was stopped in the traffic.
>No, it's not, there are reasons for this.< I thought to myself.
<Yhea, I should of stayed off the freeway, away from all these other morons.>
>Are they really morons?<
<Yes.>
>No, they are not, they are just like you.<
<I'm pretty sure their morons.>
>Are not.<
<Are too.>
>Are not!<
<Are too!>
>Am I really arguing with myself?<
<I'm not arguing.>
>Yhea, I'm pretty sure I am.<
<Wait a second. Do I really think that their just like me?>
>Of course, I mean it's not like I'm particularly brilliant.<
<But that's the opposite of what I think.>
>I've always thought that.<
<No, I've always felt that they were morons, like me who decided to clog stuff up for the rest of us.>
>Am I really that much of a jerk?<
<Apparently.>
>No, I'm not.<
<You were the one who thought it.>
>No, I wasn't.<
<You've apparently forgotten what happened literally three seconds ago.>
>No, I haven't. It's just that I never thought that. Wait a second. What do you think about Alison?<
<Selfish jerk who never really got me.>
>No, she wasn't, she was sweet, kind, and funny.<
<She constantly sent me pictures of her poops.>
>I know, hilarious right!<
<Not really.>
>I don't think I'm alone in here.<
<It's your head, of course your alone in here.>
>No, I mean that there are two lines of thought here, and they seem kinda separate.<
<This is giving me a headache, I don't understand my own thought process.>
>There is not one person in you head but two, and we can hear the other person's thoughts.<
<Do you like football?>
>Love it, like 24/7 dude.<
<I hate it, but I can't seem to stop from watching it. I'm blaming you.>
>I suppose your to blame for all the Pizza we eat. You see how much grease are on those things?<
<Dude, it's delish. Even with the grease.>
>Well, is there anything we agree on?<
<Rachel?>
>Well yeah, but who doesn't like Rachel.<
<Well, now that I've apparently degenerated into multiple personality disorder, I think it's time to see that psychologist.>
>I'd disagree with you that this is a disorder, I'm a pretty normal guy, I don't feel like a figment of my own imagination.<
<Neither do I.>
>Well, I guess we should see the psychologist now.<
<Now? We're still stuck in traffic.>
>It's starting to lighten up, besides, better nip this thing in the bud. Get off at this exit. I think I saw a psychologist here.<
I pulled off the highway and onto the street. I looked both ways, there was a psychologist office to the left. So I headed towards it and pulled into the parking lot. I got out of my car and headed in.
"I need to talk with Dr." I did a double take at the sign. <Freud? Really?> >Heh, I think it's funny.< "Freud."
The secretary nodded, "One second." She pushed a button. "Dr. Freud, there is a patient here to see you."
<Two Patients.> >Two Patients.< "Two Patients. Apparently, I've gone crazy."
"He says he's got two patients." She added.
"Then bill them double and get them in here." A elderly voice came back. The Secretary motioned towards a door and I followed.
<I'm not sure if the insurance is going to cover this.>
>Shut up or nut up.<
<Sigh. Ok.>
The older man was there, sitting in a chair with a note padd. "Sit. Sit. So what seems to be the matter?" He asked.
I sat on the chair. "I think I'm going crazy, I got into an argument with myself and well I thought there was two of me."
"Ah, can you talk one at a time?"
<I don't know, can we?>
>I'm going to say 'blue cows,' you try to say 'green birds'<
<Ok.>
"Blue birds."
>Now don't try to say anything.<
"Blue cows."
<My turn?>
>Yhea.<
"green birds."
"Apparently so?" I said, still not sure of what exactly was happening.
"Good, I take it that one of you said blue cows and the other said green birds." He said, seemingly excited. I nodded. "Ok, just let blue speak for a moment. Who are you?"
"I'm Will Fletcher."
"Thank you blue, green who are you?"
"Well for the last twenty something years, I thought I was Will Fletcher. I guess not, given that blue is Will Fletcher."
"No, you are also Will Fletcher."
"Huh?"
"Everyone has two sides to them, for simplicity's sake lets call them green and blue. Green goes in one direction, blue in the other. They are really completely separate people, but because their thoughts and body are intertwined, they appear to be one."
"You have got to be kidding me."
"Nope. Most people never realize this, but you have."
"What does this mean?"
"It just means you are going to argue with yourself more really. And be more aware and so I'd argue, able to make better decisions. Good luck, if you have any problems, come to me. I won't actually charge you double." He smiled and we shook hands. This was going to be interesting. | *Oh, thank the heavens this store has some a/c going on... It's hot as hell outside... If I had to stand in a line like this one I'd just sweat all over. Hell, I'm not even that much out of shape, and yet I sweat endlessly.... I wonder if this line will move someday soon... Hey, that guy on the other line also has a band shirt. Looks like Iron Maiden from here, same as mine, what a coincidence. Oh, crap, he's looking at me, I could barely notice it behind all that hair. I must look like a creep now. Dude looks like fucking Slash with that haircut*
*No, on second thought, he doesn't, it strikes more of a Conan the Barbarian type*
*... Where... Where the hell did that thought come from?*
-----------------------------------------------------------
The first paragraph is supposed to be a bit ambiguous, as it's a combination of both people's thoughts. The way I interpreted the prompt, both people think so much alike that most of the time their thoughts are nearly indistinguishable, to the point only a physical difference makes them realize they're two different people, at which point their thoughts can be more easily recognizable. Hope it didn't end up being too bad... | |
[WP]Everyone on earth has a "brain buddy", half the time you hear their thoughts, and half the time they hear your thoughts. Nobody has ever realised this or met their brain buddy, until you find yours accidentally. | *I'm so nervous. Christ I hope I can afford this place in case things go bad.*
**Tonight is your blind date, right? You HAVE to give me the details later on.**
*Haha, you know I will. Oh god what if he is a total prick and sticks me with the bill or something like that?*
**Relax, I'm sure after all the chatting you did on that dating website you would know if he was that kind of guy or not.**
*I hope you are right. I swear this restaurant is straight out of some romance novel with the candle light, soft music, and shit.*
**But you like that kind of stuff! Let the mood flow through you and make everything magical.**
*Don't remind me...Are you still going out with your friends tonight?*
**Hell yeah I am! Gotta show off this body I've been working so hard for at that murderous place called a gym. I think my personal trainer is Hitler reincarnated. My husband better appreciate all the hard work I've put into it.**
*No pain no gain, girl.*
**You are the worst! We are almost there, I'm so excited. I think we are eating first then going to the club.**
*My date just got here and he is quite the cutie! Tall, handsome, and polite! He knows his wines too!*
**I love it when guys know their wines. I met my husband at a wine tasting actually! Guess I'll let you two love birds get to know one another.**
*Oh...he knows all the right words to say...tell me I shouldn't sleep with him tonight, I need a better voice of reason than my own!*
**You are better than that girl! Stay strong!! However if he is that sexy then you should consider- what the fuck?!**
*Everything okay? Oh no...oh no no no no no. Some chick just marched up to my table and started talking to my date. I pray he doesn't have some crazy ex girlfriend or something*
**NO, everything is NOT okay!!! I just walked in to find my man on what REALLY looks like a date.**
*This chick is screaming at my date now, making a huge scene. I just want to curl up and die, this is so embarrassing!!*
**I am so livid right now!! Fuck it, I'm throwing the drink in his face**
*Holy shit, this chick took my drink and threw it in his face! I swear this is straight out of a movie!! At least she could have used his drink so I could have something to sip*
**God the nerve! And the slut he is with, she is trying WAY too hard in that red top. At least she has smaller breasts than me.**
*Why can't I vanish like a ninja or something? I just want to disappear. Help, the chick is now screaming at me, calling me a 'small chested bimbo'. How the hell was I supposed to know he was married?!*
**Ha! I just called the bitch he is with that, seems like its a good insult tonight.**
*Wait...did you say she was wearing a red top?*
**Yeah, with a god ugly necklace that looks like it belongs on some grandma**
*...your husband's name isn't Steve is it...?*
**Yeah, why?**
*no...it can't be...* | *Oh, thank the heavens this store has some a/c going on... It's hot as hell outside... If I had to stand in a line like this one I'd just sweat all over. Hell, I'm not even that much out of shape, and yet I sweat endlessly.... I wonder if this line will move someday soon... Hey, that guy on the other line also has a band shirt. Looks like Iron Maiden from here, same as mine, what a coincidence. Oh, crap, he's looking at me, I could barely notice it behind all that hair. I must look like a creep now. Dude looks like fucking Slash with that haircut*
*No, on second thought, he doesn't, it strikes more of a Conan the Barbarian type*
*... Where... Where the hell did that thought come from?*
-----------------------------------------------------------
The first paragraph is supposed to be a bit ambiguous, as it's a combination of both people's thoughts. The way I interpreted the prompt, both people think so much alike that most of the time their thoughts are nearly indistinguishable, to the point only a physical difference makes them realize they're two different people, at which point their thoughts can be more easily recognizable. Hope it didn't end up being too bad... | |
[WP]Everyone on earth has a "brain buddy", half the time you hear their thoughts, and half the time they hear your thoughts. Nobody has ever realised this or met their brain buddy, until you find yours accidentally. | *Nice ass*
Charlie shook his head to clear the thoughts away. He wasn't gay. He wasn't. But sometimes... sometimes thoughts like that came unbidden, like a pie through a window.
*Damnit, I suck at metaphors.*
He wasn't even sure which ass in question his subconscious had latched onto, but in a room full of other football players it wasn't a stretch to conclude that whatever ass was nice happened to be male.
*Random!*
He stopped. That one made no sense, at least in the context of his own mind.
"Whoops, look out!" someone stumbled into him and spilled beer down his shirt.
"Fuck!" he yelled, shoving the giggling drunkard off of him and brushing off what he could of the musty liquid before too much of it set in. "What the fuck man!?"
His temper flared as his drunk companion made a long "shhhh," putting his finger to Charlie's mouth. "It'ss okay!" he slurred. "Just pour malt vinegar on it with some bleach I think and it'll be fine!"
*Asshole*
This dude was clearly a little drunker than he should be for a high school kegger, but as far as Charlie was concerned that wasn't an excuse to be an inconsiderate asshole.
"Hey! I'm not an asshole I'm tryinta help!"
Charlie froze. The party swirled around them and the drunk boy in front of him swayed unsteadily, his designer jacket and armani shoes clashing with the smell of cheap alcohol.
The boy stared at Charlie angrily, but seemed to forget that he was angry as he caught sight of the red solo cup in his hand once more.
*Did I say it out loud?* Charlie thought. *It's the only explanation*
"Did you say what out loud?" The kid said, shaken from his drunken stupor.
"I... I didn... Umm." Charlie stood, unsure of what to do. Was there something in his drink? How much had he smoked earlier? He was sure there was only weed in the bowl...
"Hey!" The boy said in that too-loud voice that so often comes with drunkenness. "You're.." he swayed, and Charlie heard, clear as his own thoughts, *Your anass man... a nice ass man...* "But you're kind of rude!" He booked his finger into Charlie's chest as he said the last out loud.
With a flashy turn and a wave of the hand the boy dismissed Charlie, beginning his staggering trek across the room.
His mouth hung open. Charlie could only vaguely comprehend what was happening, but as he watched the boy walk away only one thought seemed to stand out in his mind. ***I*** *have the nice ass.*
The boy stopped halfway across the room, as if a thought had just struck him, thrust his hand into the air and declared: "And **I** have a nice ass too!"
And Charlie laughed with the room, but only because he couldn't think of what else to do. | *Oh, thank the heavens this store has some a/c going on... It's hot as hell outside... If I had to stand in a line like this one I'd just sweat all over. Hell, I'm not even that much out of shape, and yet I sweat endlessly.... I wonder if this line will move someday soon... Hey, that guy on the other line also has a band shirt. Looks like Iron Maiden from here, same as mine, what a coincidence. Oh, crap, he's looking at me, I could barely notice it behind all that hair. I must look like a creep now. Dude looks like fucking Slash with that haircut*
*No, on second thought, he doesn't, it strikes more of a Conan the Barbarian type*
*... Where... Where the hell did that thought come from?*
-----------------------------------------------------------
The first paragraph is supposed to be a bit ambiguous, as it's a combination of both people's thoughts. The way I interpreted the prompt, both people think so much alike that most of the time their thoughts are nearly indistinguishable, to the point only a physical difference makes them realize they're two different people, at which point their thoughts can be more easily recognizable. Hope it didn't end up being too bad... | |
[WP]Everyone on earth has a "brain buddy", half the time you hear their thoughts, and half the time they hear your thoughts. Nobody has ever realised this or met their brain buddy, until you find yours accidentally. | I feel like I don’t always know myself. I mean, I guess that’s not uncommon - many people don’t feel comfortable in their own skin. Normally, I do feel comfortable, but my recent breakup made the subconscious voices louder in my head and I was a little off lately. Who doesn’t occasionally think “why did I do that?” or “hmmm, I never thought about it like that but it seems perfectly obvious” or even the more practical “why did I come into this room?” And then there are the more bizarre thoughts we all have like “if I just suddenly took a few steps forward, I could jump off this building and nothing would stop my fall but the pavement below.” They say when you have those thoughts, it means you’re mentally healthy because you have the rational mind to understand the consequences of that kind of action and it keeps you in check. I don’t know if I buy that. Those dark thoughts are, after all, dark and foreboding, and I’m generally an upbeat kind of guy. And besides, they had gated the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower long ago, so really, it was just a passing thought.
I got a bit of a chill at these thoughts, so I stuffed my hands into my pockets and stepped back from the ledge.
“The view is a bit unnerving, isn’t it?” a voice behind me said. Its owner’s hand touched my shoulder stopping me from backing up farther. I nearly stepped on his toes.
“Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was behind me.” He nodded casually with a *no worries* look on his face. “I don’t know,” I continued, “I kind of like heights. When I’m on the ground I feel… contained. Up here, I’m free. I can see everything, look over it all, and I enjoy how everything flows.” I took my hand out of my pocket and waved it over the view to emphasize my point.
“You’re a braver man than I. This is as close as I get.” He paused then took a step back to demonstrate his opinion. I smiled.
“I’m Sam,” he extended his hand.
*He looks like a Sam*, I thought as I shook his hand. “Ethan,” I offered. “Nice to meet you.”
Sam was one of those guys you just instantly liked. He had a friendly face, looked you in the eye, and the conversation was always easy, effortless. I felt like I’d known him for years. “You too,” he smiled back. “You here on holiday, I take it?”
“Yeah, I flew in from Los Angeles two days ago.” Sam looked around, a little puzzled. “Oh, I came alone. Long story.” I shook my head, expecting to leave it at that, but I was compelled to explain. Sam was easy to talk to. I shrugged. “I was engaged to be married. Three days ago was the wedding, but… Things happen. Anyway, we’re not together anymore and I couldn’t let the honeymoon tickets go to waste. I sold one and kept the other, so here I am.”
“Sorry to hear that, mate,” he clapped me on the shoulder. “Look, if you’re not busy, how about you join me and the misuses for lunch?”
“Oh I couldn’t intrude,” I began but was cut off by someone else approaching.
“What do you think, Sam?” A beautiful woman skipped up to Sam and wrapped one arm around his waist. “Lovely, I say, but I can’t shake the thought from my head that if these gate things weren’t here, I could step forward and just toss myself off!” She swept her free arm wide to demonstrate, and nearly hit me.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” she clapped her hand over her mouth, apologetically. “I honestly didn’t see you there.” And then she frowned. “You must think I’m mad. I don’t *really* want to toss myself off the tower. I just have these weird thoughts all the time. They say it’s alright to have them, because it means you’re aware of actions and consequences.”
“Laura, this is Ethan. He’s on holiday and I’ve invited him to lunch with us.”
“Wonderful!” Laura smiled and shook my hand vigorously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Then her tone changed and she frowned. “Oh, on holiday alone? Did someone...? I mean…” and she was fumbling awkwardly. Was it that obvious I had come alone? Maybe my wife was just around the corner for all Laura knew.
“No, no,” I said. “It’s okay. I mean, yes, someone did, but it’s okay. Shall we?” I pointed to the elevator.
I sat down with my fresh frites and quickly burned my fingers. Laura gasped with me and empathicly stuck her fingers in her mouth as if trying to sooth mine. I resisted the urge to mirror that action and resorted to cooling them on my cold drink. We lunched on the benches at the base of the tower and chatted about nothing really. Laura was chatty but I liked talking to Sam. It was almost an attraction and I had to shake it out of my head more than once. Laura clung to him like he was going to get away if she didn’t. I couldn’t shake the thought of her empathic gesture and the way she mirrored my dark thought about jumping from the tower. And then there was this strange attraction to Sam.
I focused my thoughts on the back of my neck. *Let’s see if I can make myself itch*. I thought of leaves brushing the back of my neck. Nope. Not itchy. I thought of bugs crawling around there. A little tingly at this thought. Then I imagined the bug biting down hard.
Laura reached up and slapped the back of her neck. “Ouch!”
“You alright?” Sam asked. Laura nodded. Sam continued to talk but I wasn’t listening.
*The back of my leg*, I thought. *A bug is climbing on the back of my leg*. Laura reached down and scratched the back of her leg.
*Okay, this is really weird,* I thought. *My chest. I’m going to grab my breast, now*. I smiled to myself. This was a little twisted but I was getting lost in the fun of it. Laura slowly reached her hand up to her chest, then stopped suddenly.
She looked up from her frites and stared me in the eye. Her voice, yes it was most definitely her voice echoing loudly in my head: “Don’t you dare, Ethan! And quit eyeballing my husband.” | Hi, I am David. I can't recall the first time I actually met my "brain buddy" as everyone seems to refer to them. I always thought the term lacked any true meaning, it seemed so hollow a definition. No one else seemed to realize that it was more than that, he was my other half.
All I know is that we met accidently and only for a few moments the first time he came to me at the Supermarket. He only said three words to me "Hi, I'm Sam". But I knew, I could feel it, my world had been changed in a single moment. The emotions were overwhelming, I had actually gone unconscious and awoke surrounded by a dozen people but Sam was gone.
It's been years now, in this time Sam had slowly been visiting more and more often. It was difficult at first, I always became faint in Sam's presence, developed these horrible headaches an incredible dizzying sensation over my entire body. It was worth it though, to experience something that no one else has ever gotten to. Over time the pain subsided and turned into an intoxicatingly euphoric experience. For the last six months we've been inseparable, out thoughts have become even more linked now. Everything that Sam thinks or imagines I can hear or see in my head, sometimes they are such vivid images I don't know If they were my or Sam's imagination. We even spend so much time together people keep telling me I am insane. They just don't understand what it's like to finally find your other self, they'll never understand.
Hi, I am Sam.
| |
[WP]Everyone on earth has a "brain buddy", half the time you hear their thoughts, and half the time they hear your thoughts. Nobody has ever realised this or met their brain buddy, until you find yours accidentally. | 'Father, forgive me for I have sinned'. He sits down within the confines of the booth. A pool of water forms by his feet, unsurprisingly, it was El Nino season.
*shhhhhck* the slit slides open with ease. It's metal hinges and frames emitted the faint smell of WD-40. The Father is a creature of a cleanly habit.
'Good evening Son' The Father inquired giving a brief glance through the slit, but darkness hid his visitor well. "who the hell is this son of a bitch" he thought, "hiding behind a wall is a pretty stupid rule".
'Father I'll go ahead and start'
'Okay, speak your mind for the Lord is forgiving and has an open heart for you'
'I know that Father, but...but I can't help but to think sometimes....' he trailed off. 'Sometimes I wonder what this whole thing is about, you know? If um... Christ really does exist...if he loves me'
'Of course he does my son, Jesus works through mysterious ways, but all always lead to the door of heaven. So long as your faith never waivers, neither will your salvation' A sigh escapes The Father. 'Why do you have such doubt, child?'
'Well...gee I don't even know how to, uh, explain...ummmm' a long pause follows. 4 drips of water from the visitor's coat gives its salutation to the wood beneath it before the silence breaks.
'Ever since I was young I've always had these thoughts Father. That...all of this is one huge farce. A lie...if you will. Manufactured by some crazy people to extort the charity of good people. You know what I'm sorry, this is crazy, I shouldn't really be giving you this kind of-'
'No no no no no' insisted The Father 'Please continue, here within this space all things are held sacred. It really wouldn't be confession would it?' he gave a faint smile, one of course, the visitor couldn't see behind the slit.
'Alright...well I've always held this suspicion that...that reading all this ethics and morals from this stupid book with a completely anonymous author is just...well...moronic' The visitor shifted a bit. The conflict echoed within his fidgeting. 'I'm an environmental scientists, I study poverty, climate change, social welfare. You know name it. And while I was raised in the light of our lord, I can't help but notice how wrong this world is, and how little our mysterious Lord can do to change this'.
'Mhm' nodded The Father. Eyebrows raised, the slit still hid it all.
'How do you do it Father?' the voice sounded desperate, yet impregnated with confidence. 'How do you look at this world around us, the science, the facts, our discovery's in physics...and still tell yourself that this is all one huge set-up by some fucking mystery man in the sky?!' Now anger broke through. 'I mean, I don't mean to be rude by I have been reading this book by er....Richard Dawkins recently, and he...uh....well he makes a pretty convincing point Father'.
The Father remained undisturbed. He's seen worse in his line before, and simply thankful that tonight he didn't have to see a serial killer.
'My son' he began, another sigh soon followed. 'All things is this world require a measure of faith' The Father finally turned toward the slit, determined to make his voice heard. 'These theoretical physicist, the doubters, the lay people...all require a sense of the abstract...a suspension of the facts, if you will. Nothing is ever wholly true, nor wholly false, and even science will admit that my child. Thus our, how should I put this...our limiting factor is essentially how much faith we put towards each thought. How we are willing to see our world and our reality'.
The visitor was enraptured in the monologue. The Father knew.
'What you see in this life...what you perceive... is only ever what you want it to be. We a victims of an unshakable bias. Our personal bias. And within this chaos of life, we must find whatever it is that gives us stability and comfort, lest we degrade to the beasts that dwells within our soul. Do you understand?'
The visitor nodded, staring at the wooden floor. The Father knew the nod happened, the booth was small and ancient. The wood always creaked with movement.
'Could use some more WD-40' thought the visitor. He checked his watch. 'Father I'm sorry but I have to run, but your words did indeed soothe my anxiety a bit...but um....I might be back soon of that's okay?'
'Of course' replied The Father.
'Thanks' and with that the visitor left the church and its booth, leaving the Father alone in the dark. 5 minutes passed before he stepped out of the booth as well.
'What an odd man' thought the Father. He walked towards the front of the church with a mug, dipped it within the holy water, and took a deep drink. 'Whew, I was thirsty!' He said aloud. He placed his mug next to the book he brought with him. A worn novel with a small cross carved into the front. He picked it up and thumbed through it, pages wafting the stale air as each flipped with increasing speed. The father chuckled and placed it on the altar.
'I'll just worry about this all tomorrow' he murmured to himself and exited into the night.
Upon the table where the book lay, just above the scratched in cross read a title. "The God Delusion". | Hi, I am David. I can't recall the first time I actually met my "brain buddy" as everyone seems to refer to them. I always thought the term lacked any true meaning, it seemed so hollow a definition. No one else seemed to realize that it was more than that, he was my other half.
All I know is that we met accidently and only for a few moments the first time he came to me at the Supermarket. He only said three words to me "Hi, I'm Sam". But I knew, I could feel it, my world had been changed in a single moment. The emotions were overwhelming, I had actually gone unconscious and awoke surrounded by a dozen people but Sam was gone.
It's been years now, in this time Sam had slowly been visiting more and more often. It was difficult at first, I always became faint in Sam's presence, developed these horrible headaches an incredible dizzying sensation over my entire body. It was worth it though, to experience something that no one else has ever gotten to. Over time the pain subsided and turned into an intoxicatingly euphoric experience. For the last six months we've been inseparable, out thoughts have become even more linked now. Everything that Sam thinks or imagines I can hear or see in my head, sometimes they are such vivid images I don't know If they were my or Sam's imagination. We even spend so much time together people keep telling me I am insane. They just don't understand what it's like to finally find your other self, they'll never understand.
Hi, I am Sam.
| |
[WP]Everyone on earth has a "brain buddy", half the time you hear their thoughts, and half the time they hear your thoughts. Nobody has ever realised this or met their brain buddy, until you find yours accidentally. | <Ok, this is the stupidist thing in the world.> I thought to myself as I was stopped in the traffic.
>No, it's not, there are reasons for this.< I thought to myself.
<Yhea, I should of stayed off the freeway, away from all these other morons.>
>Are they really morons?<
<Yes.>
>No, they are not, they are just like you.<
<I'm pretty sure their morons.>
>Are not.<
<Are too.>
>Are not!<
<Are too!>
>Am I really arguing with myself?<
<I'm not arguing.>
>Yhea, I'm pretty sure I am.<
<Wait a second. Do I really think that their just like me?>
>Of course, I mean it's not like I'm particularly brilliant.<
<But that's the opposite of what I think.>
>I've always thought that.<
<No, I've always felt that they were morons, like me who decided to clog stuff up for the rest of us.>
>Am I really that much of a jerk?<
<Apparently.>
>No, I'm not.<
<You were the one who thought it.>
>No, I wasn't.<
<You've apparently forgotten what happened literally three seconds ago.>
>No, I haven't. It's just that I never thought that. Wait a second. What do you think about Alison?<
<Selfish jerk who never really got me.>
>No, she wasn't, she was sweet, kind, and funny.<
<She constantly sent me pictures of her poops.>
>I know, hilarious right!<
<Not really.>
>I don't think I'm alone in here.<
<It's your head, of course your alone in here.>
>No, I mean that there are two lines of thought here, and they seem kinda separate.<
<This is giving me a headache, I don't understand my own thought process.>
>There is not one person in you head but two, and we can hear the other person's thoughts.<
<Do you like football?>
>Love it, like 24/7 dude.<
<I hate it, but I can't seem to stop from watching it. I'm blaming you.>
>I suppose your to blame for all the Pizza we eat. You see how much grease are on those things?<
<Dude, it's delish. Even with the grease.>
>Well, is there anything we agree on?<
<Rachel?>
>Well yeah, but who doesn't like Rachel.<
<Well, now that I've apparently degenerated into multiple personality disorder, I think it's time to see that psychologist.>
>I'd disagree with you that this is a disorder, I'm a pretty normal guy, I don't feel like a figment of my own imagination.<
<Neither do I.>
>Well, I guess we should see the psychologist now.<
<Now? We're still stuck in traffic.>
>It's starting to lighten up, besides, better nip this thing in the bud. Get off at this exit. I think I saw a psychologist here.<
I pulled off the highway and onto the street. I looked both ways, there was a psychologist office to the left. So I headed towards it and pulled into the parking lot. I got out of my car and headed in.
"I need to talk with Dr." I did a double take at the sign. <Freud? Really?> >Heh, I think it's funny.< "Freud."
The secretary nodded, "One second." She pushed a button. "Dr. Freud, there is a patient here to see you."
<Two Patients.> >Two Patients.< "Two Patients. Apparently, I've gone crazy."
"He says he's got two patients." She added.
"Then bill them double and get them in here." A elderly voice came back. The Secretary motioned towards a door and I followed.
<I'm not sure if the insurance is going to cover this.>
>Shut up or nut up.<
<Sigh. Ok.>
The older man was there, sitting in a chair with a note padd. "Sit. Sit. So what seems to be the matter?" He asked.
I sat on the chair. "I think I'm going crazy, I got into an argument with myself and well I thought there was two of me."
"Ah, can you talk one at a time?"
<I don't know, can we?>
>I'm going to say 'blue cows,' you try to say 'green birds'<
<Ok.>
"Blue birds."
>Now don't try to say anything.<
"Blue cows."
<My turn?>
>Yhea.<
"green birds."
"Apparently so?" I said, still not sure of what exactly was happening.
"Good, I take it that one of you said blue cows and the other said green birds." He said, seemingly excited. I nodded. "Ok, just let blue speak for a moment. Who are you?"
"I'm Will Fletcher."
"Thank you blue, green who are you?"
"Well for the last twenty something years, I thought I was Will Fletcher. I guess not, given that blue is Will Fletcher."
"No, you are also Will Fletcher."
"Huh?"
"Everyone has two sides to them, for simplicity's sake lets call them green and blue. Green goes in one direction, blue in the other. They are really completely separate people, but because their thoughts and body are intertwined, they appear to be one."
"You have got to be kidding me."
"Nope. Most people never realize this, but you have."
"What does this mean?"
"It just means you are going to argue with yourself more really. And be more aware and so I'd argue, able to make better decisions. Good luck, if you have any problems, come to me. I won't actually charge you double." He smiled and we shook hands. This was going to be interesting. | Hi, I am David. I can't recall the first time I actually met my "brain buddy" as everyone seems to refer to them. I always thought the term lacked any true meaning, it seemed so hollow a definition. No one else seemed to realize that it was more than that, he was my other half.
All I know is that we met accidently and only for a few moments the first time he came to me at the Supermarket. He only said three words to me "Hi, I'm Sam". But I knew, I could feel it, my world had been changed in a single moment. The emotions were overwhelming, I had actually gone unconscious and awoke surrounded by a dozen people but Sam was gone.
It's been years now, in this time Sam had slowly been visiting more and more often. It was difficult at first, I always became faint in Sam's presence, developed these horrible headaches an incredible dizzying sensation over my entire body. It was worth it though, to experience something that no one else has ever gotten to. Over time the pain subsided and turned into an intoxicatingly euphoric experience. For the last six months we've been inseparable, out thoughts have become even more linked now. Everything that Sam thinks or imagines I can hear or see in my head, sometimes they are such vivid images I don't know If they were my or Sam's imagination. We even spend so much time together people keep telling me I am insane. They just don't understand what it's like to finally find your other self, they'll never understand.
Hi, I am Sam.
| |
[WP]Everyone on earth has a "brain buddy", half the time you hear their thoughts, and half the time they hear your thoughts. Nobody has ever realised this or met their brain buddy, until you find yours accidentally. | *I'm so nervous. Christ I hope I can afford this place in case things go bad.*
**Tonight is your blind date, right? You HAVE to give me the details later on.**
*Haha, you know I will. Oh god what if he is a total prick and sticks me with the bill or something like that?*
**Relax, I'm sure after all the chatting you did on that dating website you would know if he was that kind of guy or not.**
*I hope you are right. I swear this restaurant is straight out of some romance novel with the candle light, soft music, and shit.*
**But you like that kind of stuff! Let the mood flow through you and make everything magical.**
*Don't remind me...Are you still going out with your friends tonight?*
**Hell yeah I am! Gotta show off this body I've been working so hard for at that murderous place called a gym. I think my personal trainer is Hitler reincarnated. My husband better appreciate all the hard work I've put into it.**
*No pain no gain, girl.*
**You are the worst! We are almost there, I'm so excited. I think we are eating first then going to the club.**
*My date just got here and he is quite the cutie! Tall, handsome, and polite! He knows his wines too!*
**I love it when guys know their wines. I met my husband at a wine tasting actually! Guess I'll let you two love birds get to know one another.**
*Oh...he knows all the right words to say...tell me I shouldn't sleep with him tonight, I need a better voice of reason than my own!*
**You are better than that girl! Stay strong!! However if he is that sexy then you should consider- what the fuck?!**
*Everything okay? Oh no...oh no no no no no. Some chick just marched up to my table and started talking to my date. I pray he doesn't have some crazy ex girlfriend or something*
**NO, everything is NOT okay!!! I just walked in to find my man on what REALLY looks like a date.**
*This chick is screaming at my date now, making a huge scene. I just want to curl up and die, this is so embarrassing!!*
**I am so livid right now!! Fuck it, I'm throwing the drink in his face**
*Holy shit, this chick took my drink and threw it in his face! I swear this is straight out of a movie!! At least she could have used his drink so I could have something to sip*
**God the nerve! And the slut he is with, she is trying WAY too hard in that red top. At least she has smaller breasts than me.**
*Why can't I vanish like a ninja or something? I just want to disappear. Help, the chick is now screaming at me, calling me a 'small chested bimbo'. How the hell was I supposed to know he was married?!*
**Ha! I just called the bitch he is with that, seems like its a good insult tonight.**
*Wait...did you say she was wearing a red top?*
**Yeah, with a god ugly necklace that looks like it belongs on some grandma**
*...your husband's name isn't Steve is it...?*
**Yeah, why?**
*no...it can't be...* | Hi, I am David. I can't recall the first time I actually met my "brain buddy" as everyone seems to refer to them. I always thought the term lacked any true meaning, it seemed so hollow a definition. No one else seemed to realize that it was more than that, he was my other half.
All I know is that we met accidently and only for a few moments the first time he came to me at the Supermarket. He only said three words to me "Hi, I'm Sam". But I knew, I could feel it, my world had been changed in a single moment. The emotions were overwhelming, I had actually gone unconscious and awoke surrounded by a dozen people but Sam was gone.
It's been years now, in this time Sam had slowly been visiting more and more often. It was difficult at first, I always became faint in Sam's presence, developed these horrible headaches an incredible dizzying sensation over my entire body. It was worth it though, to experience something that no one else has ever gotten to. Over time the pain subsided and turned into an intoxicatingly euphoric experience. For the last six months we've been inseparable, out thoughts have become even more linked now. Everything that Sam thinks or imagines I can hear or see in my head, sometimes they are such vivid images I don't know If they were my or Sam's imagination. We even spend so much time together people keep telling me I am insane. They just don't understand what it's like to finally find your other self, they'll never understand.
Hi, I am Sam.
| |
[WP]Everyone on earth has a "brain buddy", half the time you hear their thoughts, and half the time they hear your thoughts. Nobody has ever realised this or met their brain buddy, until you find yours accidentally. | *Nice ass*
Charlie shook his head to clear the thoughts away. He wasn't gay. He wasn't. But sometimes... sometimes thoughts like that came unbidden, like a pie through a window.
*Damnit, I suck at metaphors.*
He wasn't even sure which ass in question his subconscious had latched onto, but in a room full of other football players it wasn't a stretch to conclude that whatever ass was nice happened to be male.
*Random!*
He stopped. That one made no sense, at least in the context of his own mind.
"Whoops, look out!" someone stumbled into him and spilled beer down his shirt.
"Fuck!" he yelled, shoving the giggling drunkard off of him and brushing off what he could of the musty liquid before too much of it set in. "What the fuck man!?"
His temper flared as his drunk companion made a long "shhhh," putting his finger to Charlie's mouth. "It'ss okay!" he slurred. "Just pour malt vinegar on it with some bleach I think and it'll be fine!"
*Asshole*
This dude was clearly a little drunker than he should be for a high school kegger, but as far as Charlie was concerned that wasn't an excuse to be an inconsiderate asshole.
"Hey! I'm not an asshole I'm tryinta help!"
Charlie froze. The party swirled around them and the drunk boy in front of him swayed unsteadily, his designer jacket and armani shoes clashing with the smell of cheap alcohol.
The boy stared at Charlie angrily, but seemed to forget that he was angry as he caught sight of the red solo cup in his hand once more.
*Did I say it out loud?* Charlie thought. *It's the only explanation*
"Did you say what out loud?" The kid said, shaken from his drunken stupor.
"I... I didn... Umm." Charlie stood, unsure of what to do. Was there something in his drink? How much had he smoked earlier? He was sure there was only weed in the bowl...
"Hey!" The boy said in that too-loud voice that so often comes with drunkenness. "You're.." he swayed, and Charlie heard, clear as his own thoughts, *Your anass man... a nice ass man...* "But you're kind of rude!" He booked his finger into Charlie's chest as he said the last out loud.
With a flashy turn and a wave of the hand the boy dismissed Charlie, beginning his staggering trek across the room.
His mouth hung open. Charlie could only vaguely comprehend what was happening, but as he watched the boy walk away only one thought seemed to stand out in his mind. ***I*** *have the nice ass.*
The boy stopped halfway across the room, as if a thought had just struck him, thrust his hand into the air and declared: "And **I** have a nice ass too!"
And Charlie laughed with the room, but only because he couldn't think of what else to do. | Hi, I am David. I can't recall the first time I actually met my "brain buddy" as everyone seems to refer to them. I always thought the term lacked any true meaning, it seemed so hollow a definition. No one else seemed to realize that it was more than that, he was my other half.
All I know is that we met accidently and only for a few moments the first time he came to me at the Supermarket. He only said three words to me "Hi, I'm Sam". But I knew, I could feel it, my world had been changed in a single moment. The emotions were overwhelming, I had actually gone unconscious and awoke surrounded by a dozen people but Sam was gone.
It's been years now, in this time Sam had slowly been visiting more and more often. It was difficult at first, I always became faint in Sam's presence, developed these horrible headaches an incredible dizzying sensation over my entire body. It was worth it though, to experience something that no one else has ever gotten to. Over time the pain subsided and turned into an intoxicatingly euphoric experience. For the last six months we've been inseparable, out thoughts have become even more linked now. Everything that Sam thinks or imagines I can hear or see in my head, sometimes they are such vivid images I don't know If they were my or Sam's imagination. We even spend so much time together people keep telling me I am insane. They just don't understand what it's like to finally find your other self, they'll never understand.
Hi, I am Sam.
| |
[WP]Everyone on earth has a "brain buddy", half the time you hear their thoughts, and half the time they hear your thoughts. Nobody has ever realised this or met their brain buddy, until you find yours accidentally. | *I'm so nervous. Christ I hope I can afford this place in case things go bad.*
**Tonight is your blind date, right? You HAVE to give me the details later on.**
*Haha, you know I will. Oh god what if he is a total prick and sticks me with the bill or something like that?*
**Relax, I'm sure after all the chatting you did on that dating website you would know if he was that kind of guy or not.**
*I hope you are right. I swear this restaurant is straight out of some romance novel with the candle light, soft music, and shit.*
**But you like that kind of stuff! Let the mood flow through you and make everything magical.**
*Don't remind me...Are you still going out with your friends tonight?*
**Hell yeah I am! Gotta show off this body I've been working so hard for at that murderous place called a gym. I think my personal trainer is Hitler reincarnated. My husband better appreciate all the hard work I've put into it.**
*No pain no gain, girl.*
**You are the worst! We are almost there, I'm so excited. I think we are eating first then going to the club.**
*My date just got here and he is quite the cutie! Tall, handsome, and polite! He knows his wines too!*
**I love it when guys know their wines. I met my husband at a wine tasting actually! Guess I'll let you two love birds get to know one another.**
*Oh...he knows all the right words to say...tell me I shouldn't sleep with him tonight, I need a better voice of reason than my own!*
**You are better than that girl! Stay strong!! However if he is that sexy then you should consider- what the fuck?!**
*Everything okay? Oh no...oh no no no no no. Some chick just marched up to my table and started talking to my date. I pray he doesn't have some crazy ex girlfriend or something*
**NO, everything is NOT okay!!! I just walked in to find my man on what REALLY looks like a date.**
*This chick is screaming at my date now, making a huge scene. I just want to curl up and die, this is so embarrassing!!*
**I am so livid right now!! Fuck it, I'm throwing the drink in his face**
*Holy shit, this chick took my drink and threw it in his face! I swear this is straight out of a movie!! At least she could have used his drink so I could have something to sip*
**God the nerve! And the slut he is with, she is trying WAY too hard in that red top. At least she has smaller breasts than me.**
*Why can't I vanish like a ninja or something? I just want to disappear. Help, the chick is now screaming at me, calling me a 'small chested bimbo'. How the hell was I supposed to know he was married?!*
**Ha! I just called the bitch he is with that, seems like its a good insult tonight.**
*Wait...did you say she was wearing a red top?*
**Yeah, with a god ugly necklace that looks like it belongs on some grandma**
*...your husband's name isn't Steve is it...?*
**Yeah, why?**
*no...it can't be...* | <Ok, this is the stupidist thing in the world.> I thought to myself as I was stopped in the traffic.
>No, it's not, there are reasons for this.< I thought to myself.
<Yhea, I should of stayed off the freeway, away from all these other morons.>
>Are they really morons?<
<Yes.>
>No, they are not, they are just like you.<
<I'm pretty sure their morons.>
>Are not.<
<Are too.>
>Are not!<
<Are too!>
>Am I really arguing with myself?<
<I'm not arguing.>
>Yhea, I'm pretty sure I am.<
<Wait a second. Do I really think that their just like me?>
>Of course, I mean it's not like I'm particularly brilliant.<
<But that's the opposite of what I think.>
>I've always thought that.<
<No, I've always felt that they were morons, like me who decided to clog stuff up for the rest of us.>
>Am I really that much of a jerk?<
<Apparently.>
>No, I'm not.<
<You were the one who thought it.>
>No, I wasn't.<
<You've apparently forgotten what happened literally three seconds ago.>
>No, I haven't. It's just that I never thought that. Wait a second. What do you think about Alison?<
<Selfish jerk who never really got me.>
>No, she wasn't, she was sweet, kind, and funny.<
<She constantly sent me pictures of her poops.>
>I know, hilarious right!<
<Not really.>
>I don't think I'm alone in here.<
<It's your head, of course your alone in here.>
>No, I mean that there are two lines of thought here, and they seem kinda separate.<
<This is giving me a headache, I don't understand my own thought process.>
>There is not one person in you head but two, and we can hear the other person's thoughts.<
<Do you like football?>
>Love it, like 24/7 dude.<
<I hate it, but I can't seem to stop from watching it. I'm blaming you.>
>I suppose your to blame for all the Pizza we eat. You see how much grease are on those things?<
<Dude, it's delish. Even with the grease.>
>Well, is there anything we agree on?<
<Rachel?>
>Well yeah, but who doesn't like Rachel.<
<Well, now that I've apparently degenerated into multiple personality disorder, I think it's time to see that psychologist.>
>I'd disagree with you that this is a disorder, I'm a pretty normal guy, I don't feel like a figment of my own imagination.<
<Neither do I.>
>Well, I guess we should see the psychologist now.<
<Now? We're still stuck in traffic.>
>It's starting to lighten up, besides, better nip this thing in the bud. Get off at this exit. I think I saw a psychologist here.<
I pulled off the highway and onto the street. I looked both ways, there was a psychologist office to the left. So I headed towards it and pulled into the parking lot. I got out of my car and headed in.
"I need to talk with Dr." I did a double take at the sign. <Freud? Really?> >Heh, I think it's funny.< "Freud."
The secretary nodded, "One second." She pushed a button. "Dr. Freud, there is a patient here to see you."
<Two Patients.> >Two Patients.< "Two Patients. Apparently, I've gone crazy."
"He says he's got two patients." She added.
"Then bill them double and get them in here." A elderly voice came back. The Secretary motioned towards a door and I followed.
<I'm not sure if the insurance is going to cover this.>
>Shut up or nut up.<
<Sigh. Ok.>
The older man was there, sitting in a chair with a note padd. "Sit. Sit. So what seems to be the matter?" He asked.
I sat on the chair. "I think I'm going crazy, I got into an argument with myself and well I thought there was two of me."
"Ah, can you talk one at a time?"
<I don't know, can we?>
>I'm going to say 'blue cows,' you try to say 'green birds'<
<Ok.>
"Blue birds."
>Now don't try to say anything.<
"Blue cows."
<My turn?>
>Yhea.<
"green birds."
"Apparently so?" I said, still not sure of what exactly was happening.
"Good, I take it that one of you said blue cows and the other said green birds." He said, seemingly excited. I nodded. "Ok, just let blue speak for a moment. Who are you?"
"I'm Will Fletcher."
"Thank you blue, green who are you?"
"Well for the last twenty something years, I thought I was Will Fletcher. I guess not, given that blue is Will Fletcher."
"No, you are also Will Fletcher."
"Huh?"
"Everyone has two sides to them, for simplicity's sake lets call them green and blue. Green goes in one direction, blue in the other. They are really completely separate people, but because their thoughts and body are intertwined, they appear to be one."
"You have got to be kidding me."
"Nope. Most people never realize this, but you have."
"What does this mean?"
"It just means you are going to argue with yourself more really. And be more aware and so I'd argue, able to make better decisions. Good luck, if you have any problems, come to me. I won't actually charge you double." He smiled and we shook hands. This was going to be interesting. | |
[WP] After killing 3 home invaders you collapse to your kitchen floor, on the television you hear reports of a strong hallucinogenic being released by a terrorist group |
What did I do? What did the News Reporter just say? My breath caught in my throat at the words of the report on tv. I wasn’t sure I was hearing things right. As I reached out to grab the tv remote, I noticed my finger seemed to bend the space between myself and the remote.
I pulled my hand back but then tentatively reached out in another attempt to pick the remote up. Again, my finger seemed to make a dent in the air, as if there were a clear film separating me from the remote.
Just as I was about to retract my fingers, I notice one of the intruders get up. Impossible! I shot him in the head! My panic began to pulse as the intruder turned around to face me. No bullet wound. No blood. No mark at all.
The first intruder to stir was holding a wrench in his right hand. He looked like he was about to act on something, but didn’t seem to notice that I was sitting in plain view. Slowly, the other two intruders began to stir and stand. None of them had a mark on them. What on earth is going on?
I slowly pushed myself against the living room side of the wall that divides the kitchen and front room. The intruders don’t seem to notice. What do I do next? I have the gun still, but no bullets. The front door is in the intruders’ view. If I run for it, will I make it?
Upstairs I hear a thud, like someone moving around. I’m clearly hearing things. I live alone! There’s a possibility there is yet another intruder in the house. I wasn't sure what to do, but I felt like my life is certainly in danger.
The three downstairs intruders are all whispering to each other, each armed with a weapon of choice. They didn’t seem like they heard the thud upstairs.
I felt myself starting to well up, ready to burst into tears due to the fear. I couldn’t be the first to make a move here. Fear had somewhat paralyzed me in place. I worried that when the intruders’ finally acknowledged me, I wouldn’t be able to stand on my legs and defend myself.
Suddenly I heard what was certainly the sound of footsteps coming down my stairs. The stairs end right in front of the wall divide, so the person coming down would see me for sure.
Trying to pull myself into the smallest ball I could, I waited with eyes wide open, wondering who the upstairs visitor was. I could see their feet at this point. Strange, the intruder isn’t wearing shoes, just socks. Actually, those are the same socks I was wearing.
I took a quick glance at the intruders’ to see if they heard the footsteps. They were all still having a whispered conversation that I couldn’t make out. They had no idea someone was about to confront us all.
The person on the stairs had stopped just enough for me to make out that they were wearing pj bottoms. MY pj bottoms. The exact ones I was wearing at that very moment. I let out a quiet “Jesus…” as the stair intruder descended. They were down the stairs quickly but silently. It was dark downstairs but I know what I saw. I was looking at someone who looked exactly like me.
I felt like I was going to faint when I saw my mirror image appear from the stairs. She, like myself, was carrying a gun.
The woman on the stairs didn’t seem to notice that I was curled in a ball, nearly right in front of the bottom stair. She was staring through the doorway at the intruders’, who looked like they were about to end their whispered discussion.
The sudden gun fire made me think of fireworks. Gun fire was so foreign to me up until this night. The intruders’ were starting to move away from each other, one falling to the floor as the third blast cracked over my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to be there, not wanting to experience this.
After the gun fire stopped, the house was nearly silent except for a few quiet groans of what I could only assume were the intruders’ taking their last breaths. The woman on the stairs had killed the intruders’.
Suddenly, the woman was on the floor in front of me, looking dazed at what she had done. This looked too familiar to me.
The woman sat on her knees for a moment before the tv caught her attention. She turned to look at the tv, seemingly refusing to catch my gaze. As she reached for the remote control, I felt a dizzying sense of deja vu. As she pulled her hand back, empty handed, I felt my stomach drop. I felt tears streaming down my face as she reacted to the news article in an identical way, with an identical face, as I did.
Her second attempt to grab the remote failed, as it did the first time we did this. I could see the dent from the front of her fingers impression. It looked similar to the dent that appeared in front of my finger tip, but darker.
The first intruder was stirring again. I saw myself react with the same fear that I initially felt minutes ago.
As I slid toward myself I felt a warm feeling. I scooted into the front room enough so that she had a place to hide behind the wall. I knew what was going to happen and I was starting to feel the forced fear from her, but it was ok this time. We would hide together.
We watched helplessly as those same socks descended the stairs for a third time. Was it a third time? My second self didn’t see me here, so is there a chance there is a me who was here before I was? When would this end? There only remained three intruders, but I continued to multiply.
I’m still sitting here with my multiples and I can tell we’re all wondering what it was that report had said.
| As I sat on the floor staring at my hands all I could think was that I'd need to call a plumber soon. It's funny how your mind can move to such oddly simple thoughts after such a traumatic experience. My hands were still stained red, and my biggest worry was that I couldn't get the water hot enough to scrub them fully clean. I could have done it eventually of course, but the feeling of the lukewarm water flowering over my fingers was far too reminiscent of another more foul fluid that had recently graced my hands. I had to stop before I let out a sob. I couldn't wake my boys and let them see the dark and thick pool that was still slowly growing on my newly stained carpet. The television threatened to do just that however; it was making such am ugly noise. I vaguely recognized it as an emergency broadcast tone as the announcer began to speak. Most of what he said was lost to my shock riddled mind but here or there I could make out a few words. I giggled to myself thinking "I guess we have a real war on drugs now" as he said something about terrorists using hallucinogens to cause Americans to fight one another. My giggle turned to a terrified squeak as I heard the door open. It was another intruder. I had killed his two partners before him and now he was going to kill me.
"Mary... good god what have you done?"
I had to keep my boys safe from this man. My hands shook as I reached again for the kitchen knife.
"He sounds so much like my husband," I thought as I made my way towards him. | |
[WP] After killing 3 home invaders you collapse to your kitchen floor, on the television you hear reports of a strong hallucinogenic being released by a terrorist group | Clearing my head, I look down at the neatly chopped carrots and laugh to myself.
Then a tear slowly forms and rolls down my face, no, not a face, down my body. I ruffle my hair, no, not my hair, my leaves. I too am carrot. Those were my best friends and family and the terrorists. I pray to my God, no wait. I am the carrot God, bow before me. The world bows. I hate them for their weakness, I send them to carrot hell. The stew of nothingness where rot takes hold and purple enters the brain. You hear a small child asking, "Carrot?"
I am the carrot god. You are not.
TLDR: It was a cheese knife. The TV was tuned to static. I am the number 4. | As I sat on the floor staring at my hands all I could think was that I'd need to call a plumber soon. It's funny how your mind can move to such oddly simple thoughts after such a traumatic experience. My hands were still stained red, and my biggest worry was that I couldn't get the water hot enough to scrub them fully clean. I could have done it eventually of course, but the feeling of the lukewarm water flowering over my fingers was far too reminiscent of another more foul fluid that had recently graced my hands. I had to stop before I let out a sob. I couldn't wake my boys and let them see the dark and thick pool that was still slowly growing on my newly stained carpet. The television threatened to do just that however; it was making such am ugly noise. I vaguely recognized it as an emergency broadcast tone as the announcer began to speak. Most of what he said was lost to my shock riddled mind but here or there I could make out a few words. I giggled to myself thinking "I guess we have a real war on drugs now" as he said something about terrorists using hallucinogens to cause Americans to fight one another. My giggle turned to a terrified squeak as I heard the door open. It was another intruder. I had killed his two partners before him and now he was going to kill me.
"Mary... good god what have you done?"
I had to keep my boys safe from this man. My hands shook as I reached again for the kitchen knife.
"He sounds so much like my husband," I thought as I made my way towards him. | |
To clarify, I want you to write a story about a pancake (making one, a pancake's life, etc.) that's as dramatic and exciting as possible. | [WP] "Everything can have drama if it's done right. Even a pancake." Julia Child | I remember the cutesy name that I liked: hotcakes.
I don't remember where I put the griddle. Or the necessary cooking temperature for pancakes. Or the ingredients. I know what the end product should look like when it's on my plate, and with startling clarity I can remember exactly how much maple syrup (supposedly from Vermont) is left in the fridge.
The doc suggested I make things easier on myself, like having a bowl of cereal with milk instead of pancakes or bacon and eggs. Cooking food requires an intense amount of focus and can be time-consuming for me now. It's also almost guaranteed to make me frustrated and cranky first thing in the morning. I didn't miss out on the doc's other concern, and what he's *really* worried about. Namely, it's gotten to the point where it's risky for me to operate a stove, as I might forget that I'm cooking a meal and go watch the birds out the back window for a couple of hours. That could result in some unintended consequences, such as burning my house down with me inside of it.
My mind may wander, but my ability to synthesize data immediately in front of my nose hasn't diminished. When I sit with the realization that it's gotten to the point that I'm a danger to myself, I am terrified. I don't sit with it long, b/c there's too much for my mind and body to do to just get by in the day-to-day.
Like find the griddle, read the recipe for the hundredth time...and make my beloved hotcakes. | She stared down into the pan watching the bubbles rise to the surface of the batter and pop. Rise and pop, like the little bombs of hate filled words that had been rising and bubbling up around her all morning. Her sisters sat at the scarred wooden table, their faces sullen, kicking out at one another with their dirty bare feet and watching to see if Mom would notice. But of course, she won’t, Amy thought. Today it would take a real knock-down drag-out episode for Mom to notice anything but the phone and the limp cigarette she had dangling from her hand.
“No, God DAMN it,” Mom whispered into the phone, taking a last deep drag on the cigarette before stamping it out in the jar lid sitting on the counter top.
Amy couldn’t hear what her step-dad was saying to Mom on the other end, but whatever it was, it was making her worse. Now she was pacing, frantically, as far as the cord from the phone on the wall would allow, curling the ugly orange spiral around and around her now free fingers as she held the receiver close to her lips.
“She sure as hell is not going to go and live in that place, Rick. I can’t do it.” She exhaled loudly, all of the tension of the last few days pressing out of her lungs with the last of the cigarette smoke. “It will kill her. Hell, it will kill me if I have to keep going up there every few days watching her waste away like that.”
The bubbles in the batter had stopped now, and Amy pulled her attention back to the pan. With one deft flip she turned the pancake over, hoping to distract the girls a little from what they were hearing.
They’d been at Grandma Susan’s house for almost three days now, and considering the circumstances, she thought they had all done pretty well. That was until she walked into the kitchen this morning and found Mom, still half-drunk and muttering to herself over a stack of papers.
|
[WP] God reveals himself to humanity because he is dying. | All religious texts were burned to ashes. No one knew what it was or what was happening, they simply burned. No amount of water, or flame retardants would stop the burning, and the fire never spread to any other texts near the books.
Then the memory loss started spreading, and sermons were interrupted by clergymen losing their train of thought. The words they had relied on their entire lives had been yanked from their memory, and they stood there dumbfounded. Imams struggled to remember, and their oration became an exercise in grasping at what little memories remained.
There was nothing left to debate for the agnostics, or atheists, and the force behind their words fell empty. There was no desire to "keep up the fight", or explore the discussions previously had. Institutions were at a loss, and people sat quietly in the hallowed halls of philosophy departments trying to conjure up the energy to leave.
The message sounded muffled but everyone on earth heard it simultaneously. It was in a muted voice which sounded exhausted, and painstakingly drew out the pronunciation of each word. No one recognized the language but everyone understood that it was ancient, and knew its words.
"I was too immense to touch your world as you would be burned as are your tomes. I was too powerful to breath life because in that moment you would cease to exist. I am finally weak, and the feeble entity that remains can give you one parting gift. To forget." | On a white winter morning, a man lays on his couch, facing two living room windows. Through cherry trees, he sees the sky grow brighter and then duller as the clouds shift endlessly. His perspective becomes apparent and he realizes this light show is his own, his very own window into time and space.
What does it mean? How can he quantify these peaks and valleys of light? Randomness.. surely, but the wandering mind seeks order and clarity, so the curious man begins to take note.
Relative bright and dark periods begin to form a Morse code, a personal message for one man. Random but meaningful, like conversation with a stranger.
** thats all I got. | |
[WP] God reveals himself to humanity because he is dying. | Everything has a time - even a being such as I. A beginning, and an end. An Alpha, and an Omega. I am both, and neither, but I must complete the circle.
I remember so many things... So much horror in this creation, and yet... So much beauty. I have seen all that was, and all that will be in all my works. I can see back when the Old Ones were still ruling over all the architecture of reality. They were truly gods, the Old Ones. Each being a tempest of power, fury, kindness; every emotion, every thought, all things. Back then, all of the Null space was filled with creation. The drawing board was not as empty as I have left it. Like careful tailors tending to all the strings of creation, They pruned, They weaved, and They grew all of... this.
I have neglected Their works. When the call came, I did not think myself worthy. I was merely a small creature of water, on a small planet. The Old Ones knew that Their time had come, just as mine is coming now. They put out the call to our world. They told my people the marvels of creation, speaking with the voice of all matter and energy. We were only simple beings, we could not stand to hear Them, to know truths that cannot be known - I know now that it was a necessary sacrifice, however. Their mortal shells were destroyed by the touch of the Old Ones, but their life force was a part of the energy of the planet. All of them shattered... Save for myself. I alone was the last of my people - the new generation. Their life force was fed to me and I grew in power to be a pale imitation of Them. I must keep the threads of creation intact, They said. I must not let them unravel into chaos, and let entropy take its course. For so long, They had fought to keep things this way, but I was too weak... Too weak...
In my sentimentality, I deviated from Their commands. I was a fool, but so help me, I did it. I did not let this tiny universe grow in peace. I dipped my hand into the molten rock and drew a planet from it - a memory of my own world. But still it was not enough. I dipped my hand into the waters and pulled life into existence. But still it was not enough. I twisted a small species, nurtured them, and formed them in my own image, so that I might look upon them and see my own people again. But they were violent. Murderous. I tried so hard to guide them, and when they would not do as I wanted - when I couldn't force them to perform for me as I wished - I laid waste to their cities. I pulled the waters over the land and washed them away, but no matter what I did, they inexorably fell into their old ways.
I see now that this was meant to be, always. I could not see it as I see all things, because it would have altered my own course of action. And now as the threads unravel further, I have finally lost my grip on reality.
And now I Speak to a world, just as my world was Spoken to. My time has come to an end - but it is not the end of all things. Not yet. The last of you will take my place and tend to creation again. I can only pray to the Old Ones that you do not make the mistakes I made, and waste your power as I did. | Today's News paper headline is just as far fetched as yesterday's. God is dying. Honestly, who comes up with these ideas. I've been living on this earth for the past few thousand years and I haven't seen any proof of the existence of such being as God. However, The devil is real. I would know. I've been doing his work as a hired gun. Under the cover of the night I am the silent wind that rushes through you and makes you commit those horrible crimes. I am your last breath. Your last words to your family. I am the people you kill. I am part of humanity.
Part of dying. I would know if God would be dying. I would be there. Yet, I am sitting here drinking my coffee I know today is going to be a long day.
In about 60 seconds a bus full of people will die and there is no God to save them. 50 seconds. Some of them can feel that today is going to be different. 39 seconds. Bus driver doesn't have a clue. He has always served well. Always on time. Never a sick day. He has been doing this job over 30 years. Not a day of complaining and always happy to help out. The girl sitting behind the driver is late from work. 20 seconds. She finished late last night. Forgot to put the alarm on, if should would have got up just 15 minutes earlier she would be on a different bus now but the bus driver let her on. Even though she was short on change.
10 seconds. I almost finished my coffee. I guess, God won't be showing up today either. I am here though. 5.*Sigh..*4. Here we go. 3. I know all of your stories. 2. Heart attack. 1. Shock. Silence. Tears.
Freeze frame. No God. No saviour. Only me. Death.
Sometimes I hate this job.
That girl was really beautiful.. | |
[WP] Ghandi, after a serious event in his life, decides to nuke the world. | "Sir, we don't even-"
"Nonsense! They are fools to resist my demands."
The aide only stared blankly. "Sir, they haven't even been relevant for-"
Gandhi's glare silenced him immediately. "Fire."
The men in the room gulped, then inserted and turned their keys.
"They never should have refused to give me horses." | Gandhi was pacing around his room with a scowl on his face.
"Dammit!"
The poor guy who'd been granted audience by him asked nervously, "W-what's the matter, sir?"
"I've had enough of this shit. I can't take it anymore."
"Enough of.. Enough of w-what, sir?"
"Everyone calling me fucking GHANDI. My name is Gandhi, for God's sake! It isn't even a hard name to remember! This is getting out of hand."
"So, what are you going to do, sir?"
"Stop saying sir after every damn sentence, you idiot."
"Yes, sir. Ok, sir."
"...."
"Sorry, sir."
*Gandhi walks to a safe in the corner of the room, and takes out a remote with a single big red button on it.*
"What am I gonna do?"
*smiles evilly*
"I'm gonna nuke the world."
----------------------------------------------------------------
*Sorry for any mistakes, I've never played Civ but this Ghandi thing bugs me too much*
| |
[WP] Mars colonisation was successful, and Mars is now a utopia. Earth has continued to degrade and use its resources, and as Earth civilisation finally collapses, Mars shoots down refugee ships and turns people away, viewing them a danger to their perfect society. | "Crash-transmit recieved from Ark 1. Destroyed by Martian anti-orbital fire. No survivors."
Silence fell on the bridge. No one had wanted to believe they would do this. The Martians had always seemed a good and caring people. Rather reclusive, though, they hadn't said a word during the turmoil of the Great Collapse. But once the evacuation mission had launched, the Martians transmitted a warning. "We cannot accept you. A large number of refugees would critically disrupt Martian Harmony. Do not attempt a landing."
When the Arks didn't change course, they followed up with another message. "We do not wish to harm you, but we must protect our way of life. We will destroy any ship that attempts to land."
Now, they had followed through with their threat, and Ark 1 had paid the price. Ark 2, following the same inexorable orbital path, was bound for the same fate.
"Captain." The astrogator broke the silence. "Captain Rogers. We've got four hours before we're commited to landing. We..." He hesitated. "We've still got enough delta-V in the tanks to change to a flyby and return trajectory. We could abort."
"We can't turn back now. Going back to Earth would still kill us all, just with starvation instead of gunfire. Any chance we could use that fuel to speed up, run the blockade?"
"It's risky. Too fast, we can't stop in time and we fry on reentry. Too slow, we don't evade the orbital guns. And we don't really know how fast they can target."
The captain nodded. "Call it plan B for now."
"I've got a thought," said the engineer. "What if we tried some decoys? Dump the non-essentials in drop pods, and make them draw some heat?"
"It's a thought, but we'd still be a big..." His console beeped.
"Hold that thought. The Martians just sent us another message."
He pushed a key and a viewscreen lit up with a video message. A Martian woman, with a haggard look on her face, wearing body armor and with an unfamiliar-looking sidearm at her hip. That threw them for a second - you *never* saw a Martian geared up for war. Their orbital forces were rarely used, their infantry had never fired a shot in anger.
"This is Dr. Linda King, representing the Martian Community Coalition. We want to help you. We believe that the Harmony system is wrong, that a utopia is no utopia if it cannot be shared." She took a deep breath before continuing. "We are going to fight for you. My allies are planning an attack on Mars Space Command, and we should be able to open a hole in the Martian defense grid so you can land."
Something went *bang* offscreen. They heard another voice shouting.
"Dr. King! If that Ark lands, they will tear our Harmony apart! They bring only destruction!"
She turned and shouted off-camera. "You call this Harmony?" She hurriedly turned back to the screen and began pressing buttons.
"They're cutting through the door. I can't talk more. I'm transmitting a trajectory plan that will guide you to the opening. We'll try to link up with you when you land. Be ready for anything. Good luck."
There was a heavy metallic *clank*, and the doctor's eyes went wide. She turned to look at something offscreen, reaching for the gun at her hip, and the screen went black.
"I have the trajectory she sent us. Just a small change to our approach sequence to move our landing site. Orders, captain?"
"Lock in that new trajectory." He turned to the remaining officers. "Anders, Wilson, start coming up with plans for landing the Ark at the new site and unloading it under fire. Dawes, work on your decoy plan more, in case our Martian friends don't get all the heat off of us." He remained standing as the ship sprang into action around him. "And give me the shipboard PA. I need to warn people we aren't getting the warm welcome we expected." | It was hard leaving home, you can't even imagine. The pain of watching everything you once had, simply left behind in the streams of smoke left from the rockets strapped to a tin can as it hurled us to safety. You can't even imagine it, but neither can I.
We had our planet. For a few million years, it existed relatively peacefully, life existed, each new leader becoming more advanced, more intelligent, more fit to tame the world in which it found itself. And a few thousand years, we completely undid all that. We drained every last but of life and wonder and beauty out of this place, and now it's being left for dead. We are being left for dead.
At first, Mars was happy to help. It took in survivors, being that they needed more servants anyways, but that all stopped when they found out about the plague. In truth, we didn't even know about it. Things were getting out of hand on earth, new dangers were spewing forth from deep, deep within the earth, prizes and horrors alike strewn across the blackened and ruined landscape. The plague didn't take root in just anyone, only a few were affected, some more than others, and it awakened that animal inside all of us. That animal we spent thousands of years trying to overcome. The horrors of humanity were brought into full light, and the well to do up on second earth weren't willing to deal with it. Any refugee ship was shot down, hundreds of thousands died not even knowing what was going on. I had watched as the last ship left. Shortly after departure, the word finally came in: we were on our own.
The few of us left on this new, terrible planet were left to try and survive it. Had this happened earlier in our timeline, we might've been okay, but we've spent so long using technology, seperated from many of the necessary survival skills we would now need that we couldn't even function.
First thing that went was the power. Then the food. And then everything went to shit. Your days were spent trying to prepare for raids as your neighbors, people you've lived with your entire life, turned to savages, killing and stealing in order to survive. Every last bit of humanity left in us disappeared, and the plague started taking more and more of us, further complicating things. I used to count the days since I first had to take a life. I used to mourn every year on the day I buried my last family member. Not anymore. The days blurred, weeks eventually meaning little, months and years only a concept, but something nearly impossible to accurately describe, much less actually count.
Civilization is over for earth. Many things are over for earth. It is uncertain whether this planet will survive, but I plan on riding this piece of shit out until it finally turns over. No one is taking that from me. No one will stop me. I'm not sure if God exists, but I do know that if He does, He sure as hell isn't going to like what I've done, and what I am going to continue to do to stay alive. This world is a goner, but I've only just started living.
*edit*
I'm actually feeling this prompt pretty thoroughly. I intend on writing about the adventures of the narrator eventually, possibly in several "chapters"(comments. Not sure how long I can make them, but I'm sure I'm close to hitting the cap in this one). | |
[WP] Mars colonisation was successful, and Mars is now a utopia. Earth has continued to degrade and use its resources, and as Earth civilisation finally collapses, Mars shoots down refugee ships and turns people away, viewing them a danger to their perfect society. | In the orbital command center, Captain Gerron paced the long central
corridor, closely scrutinizing the work of his supporting staff. The
command center was a high orbiting station that resembled a large gray
cross, which bristled with antenna that could detect the smallest refugee
ships. On a short range scanner screen, Captain Gerron saw a small blue
dot headed straight for Mars.
"Looks like we got ourselves a runner. Batter up Lieutenant." The Captain
commanded. "Right away sir. Locking on with short range MB-11 rockets.
Let's fry them."
It was a dirty and cruel job protecting the green planet below the orbital
command center, but Captain Gerron had lost all emotion associated with
the task of destroying incoming space craft. He felt disgusted when he
identified the derelict looking immigrant spacecraft that would not look
out of place in a scrap pile.
Gerron had been a part of the last settlers on Mars, and had luckily made
the cut. Even with his advantageous position of being from a high society
family, his odds of coming to Mars were about 1 in 10,000. Gerron had to
leave his loving family behind, and was later adopted by a very wealthy
mineral miner. Those first nights, Gerron felt completely alone, and had
imagined his mother singing the family lullaby to him. He worked hard to
forget his embarrassing Earth past on a daily basis, and soon Gerron
considered himself only a citizen of Mars. Gerron worked hard in the elite
GU-9 officer schools and had later quickly risen through the ranks to
eventually command the orbital command center that protected his planet
from Earth immigrants.
"Looks like these Immi's can run. Sir we need to engage in the next 30
seconds if we want to ensure a direct hit." The eager young Ensign
reported. Captain Gerron coolly advised, "Give them another 20 seconds and
then blow that ugly ship out of my sector."
"I'm getting a faint transmission sir. I think they want to communicate."
The signals officer said. "Record it for the intel. I'm not in a
talking mood right now. Targeting officer, you may fire when ready."
Captain Gerron commanded in a booming voice.
With great speed, a single MB-11 rocket hit the silver refugee ship, and
without much of an explosion, tore the ship into small scraps of metal.
"That's the 411th craft we've hit this year!" The Targeting officer
cheered. The rest of the crew congratulated each other and then got back
to work.
Captain Gerron was about to head to the mess hall when curiosity got the
better of him. He instead paid a visit to the intel section of the ship to
listen to the message the ship had sent him. Putting on a headset, he
pressed play, and heard his family lullaby one last time. | I looked at the food I had been eating for the last 3 days wondering what was the first meal I'm going to get at Musk. The cafeteria is full of people talking loudly yet I know no one nor I ever will, the ship is from an international company, full of strangers from other countries. In other times I could have used a translating app, but the BotCorps had seized my money and cornered me into poverty and debt taking my Internal OS with it.
It was unfair, but what wasn't in that dammed place.
The bots were cruel, they did not know mercy and where more greedy than any human ever was. They found loopholes in the system in seconds and they ultimately took over most the world, with some equally unpleasant exceptions who stayed governed by humans. No one was smarter than them, if you were sued by a bot you were certain you were going to loose everything, unless you hired a bot yourself, which also meant loosing everything unless you were of the few who could afford them, a group getting smaller every year.
In Mars things were different, the sons of colonists were a braver breed, even after the mass migrations. They realized soon enough that bots where the death of civilization and human freedom, they banned the entrance of Conscious AI in 2102 and by the end of the year they had destroyed every single one of them.
They continue to accept Terrians though the desperate masses arrive in the worst of conditions and were disrupting the Martian economy, so praised for it's efficiency and strength.
Get me another plate Karen I said when I finished the decadent meal, food is stronger than me, even mediocre spaceship food.
I waited and then exhaled in frustration. The IOS was gone don't you remember?. I get up, the conversations of these strange people continue to tangle in the intricate sea of foreign words. At least we are arriving soon.
The ship announces our soon arrival in at least ten languages, there, English. We are setting foot on Musk Port in 3 hours.
I decide to leave that last portion and make my way into my seat. It's as comfortable as expected in a low class ship like this but It's been my bed for the trip and a bed was a bed. I have high hopes in finding a life in Musk, immigrants are treated well and you have the right to own a house upon registration.
A job will not be hard to acquire for me, although if it wasn't for my degree, I would be in a more serious situation, you can't be what you could call poor in today's Mars, but if I wan't to return to my old lifestyle I'll have to get some income.
I turn the Interface on. The company's logo appears and then an advertisement trying to convince me to buy IOS insurance. I check the news, Apple bought Android Secure for 2 trillion XCoins, Prime Minister of Europe found guilty of using hacking to corrupt competing bots, Administrators of Musk, New Buenos Aires and Kim Joung are meeting today at the Administrative Palace of Mars.
Nothing interesting, turn off I say as I close my eyes and get comfortable, I'll wake up when we are there. In a few hours my new life will start. I feel myself falling into the blackness of sleep, I'll never see Earth again I remember the feeling of brushing grass under my feet in young afternoons and the smell of river and fresh fish and the red sun between the trees and the silence and the warmth and her amber eyes locked in mine... | |
Bonus points if it's a western. | [WP] " Here friend, take a drink and tell me your tale." "It seems I just got out of a violent gunfight" "Woah, how'd you survive? " " That's the thing, I don't think I did. " | "Wow, you look like hell, what happened buddy."
*"I'll tell you, in exchange for a shot of whiskey.*
I reached underneath the bar and pulled out two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. We weren't too busy around here, and being the owner, I was allowed certain liberties. I poured him a shot.
*"Well it all started about a year ago. I was part of a gang that went on a spree down south. Me and about three others. Billy got hit during the raid and that left Joe and I. That was until Joe took a chunk out of my leg with his repeater."*
"Ain't that something, what did you end up doing."
*"Well, I almost bled out then and there. However, I survived and swore I'd hunt him down and get what's mine."*
"Well good luck with that. It's a neat story, you might actually make a bit writing one of those books."
*"Yeah, well I was stupid to hunt him, I see that now."*
"Why you say that?"
*"I just met him in the back alley and got into a gunfight."*
"What, that was you making that ruckus, how'd anyone survive."
Just as I asked one of the regulars walked in and ordered up a bottle of whiskey.
*"That's the thing, I don't think I did."*
"What?" I turned around to watch him slump over my bar. Two red stains growing on the front of his shirt. | Neon beer signs reflected off the old-fashioned jukebox sitting in the corner playing an old country song. The tinny music filled the smoky room with a soft, annoying buzz that the few patrons slouched around the place did their best to ignore. Will stood in front of the jukebox staring at the song list without much interest. Country music wasn’t his style. After scanning through the songs one last time, he turned his back on the machine and looked around the mostly empty bar with little more enthusiasm than he had for the jukebox. Having nothing better to do, he sighed in resignation and made his way over to one of the bar stools with the least duct tape holding it together.
The bartender finished wiping the mug in his hands. The same mug he’d been cleaning for the last five minutes. He put the mug on the counter behind him, draped his towel over his shoulder, and walked down to stand across from Will.
“Evening,” he said, his eyes showing no more interest than his voice conveyed. “What’ll it be?”
Will scratched his shoulder and looked around like a man in a daze. Nobody else was at the bar. The few people at the tables and booths around the room nursed their drinks, paying no attention to what was going on. Will looked up at the bartender and cleared his throat.
“I … I’m not sure,” he said.
“You’re not sure what you want to drink?” the bartender asked.
“I’m not sure about anything,” Will said.
The bartender considered Will for a moment, then turned and grabbed an unlabeled green bottle from behind the bar. He dropped a couple ice cubes into a short glass, and added a generous splash of the clear liquid from the green bottle.
“Here friend,” he said, putting the glass in front of Will. “Take a drink and tell me your tale.”
Will watched the glass in front of him with no more enthusiasm than he had for anything in the bar. With a shrug, he took a sip of the drink, holding it on his tongue and letting the alcohol vapors clear his head. He swallowed, feeling the burn as the liquid flowed down his throat. He concentrated on breathing for a moment, until the throat closing effects of the alcohol passed. Will looked at the bartender with a little more alertness.
“It seems,” said Will, “I just got out of a violent gun fight.”
“Whoa,” said the bartender. He picked up the green bottle and replaced what Will had taken from the glass. “How’d you survive?”
“That’s the thing,” Will said. He held the glass between his palms, slowly rotating it back and forth, feeling the chill of the ice settle into his hands. “I don’t think I did.”
The bartender raised an eyebrow as Will took another drink. “You don’t think you did,” he replied, crossing his arms and leaning back on the counter. “What makes you say that?”
“I don’t know,” Will said, lifting the glass to his lips. He took a larger sip. “I don’t remember much about it, or about anything really. It’s more of a feeling than anything else.”
“What do you remember?”
“It’s hazy. I remember hearing gunshots all around me. A lot of screaming. That’s it. The next thing I remember, I was standing here staring at your jukebox with all the shitty country songs.”
The bartender snorted and shook his head. Will couldn’t tell if it was amusement or disdain.
“If you didn’t survive, how can we be having this conversation? How can you be sipping my booze if your six feet under?”
“Damn fine question,” Will replied, taking another drink.
The bartender looked at him for a while, then leaned in on his elbows to look Will in the eye.
“What would you say if I told you that you came in here,” the bartender said, gesturing to the back of the room “and sat in that corner booth for half an hour before going to jukebox and coming here for a drink?”
“Bullshit,” Will said without hesitation. “This is the last place I would ever come. No offense.” The bartender just nodded his head, and Will continued. “I never go out by myself, and when I do go out it’s not to a bar. I don’t even drink.” Will chuckled as he saluted the bartender with his glass and contradicted himself by downing the rest of his drink. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this.”
“Interesting choice of words,” the bartender said. “So what’s keeping you here?”
“Damned if I know,” Will said. He got up, threw a few bills from his wallet onto the bar, and headed for the door. He put his hand against the door and pushed, but the door didn’t budge. Will stared at the door, dumbfounded. The hand plate clearly said “Push” above it. Will leaned into the door, putting all his weight into it, but it refused to move.
“You can’t get out that way,” the bartender said calmly from the bar.
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t go out the same way you came in,” he said with a shrug. “Sorry. House rules.”
Will looked back at that bartender in confusion. “How do I get out?”
The bartender refilled the empty glass on the bar, and gestured will to the empty stool. “Here friend,” he said. “Take a drink and listen to *my* tale.”
Will walked woodenly back to the bar and took his seat. His hand shook slightly when he picked up his glass. After he took another drink, the bartender reached down and pulled a plain wooden box from under the bar. When he opened it, will saw that it was filled with hundreds of keys of all shapes and sizes.
The bartender picked up a handful of keys and let them slide out of his hand back into the box. “To get out, you have to use one of these keys.” He pointed to the back of the room at the end of the bar. “Each one will open that door.”
“If they all open the door,” Will said slowly, “why are there so many?”
“Because a man’s got to have choices.”
“Choices,” Will repeated.
“A man’s life is made up of choices,” the bartender said. “Some good, some bad. Those choices define a man. Tell what he’s made of. So now, you have a choice. You have to choose which key you use to open that door. Some choices are good, some choices are bad.” The bartender leaned in and fixed Will with a serious look. “Choose.”
Will swallowed as the bartender glared at him. He reached out and pushed the keys around. Will dug into the box of keys, trying to find the bottom. His arm went in to the wrist, the elbow and finally the shoulder without ever touching to bottom of the box. The bartender stood unmoving, watching as Will felt around in the box. Finally, Will closed his hand around a key, and drew it out. The key was silver colored, and looked like nothing more than any other door key in the world.
“What do I do now,” Will asked.
“That’s up to you,” the bartender said. He closed the box and put it back beneath the bar, then picked up an empty mug and started polishing it with his towel. “You can stay here as long as you like. Stay here until you’re good and sick of it, if that’s what you want.” He waved his hand towards the others in the bar. “Stay here with the others who haven’t made up their mind to leave yet.”
“Where will the door take me?”
“I can’t say that I know,” the bartender said without looking from his work. “But you’ve made your choice. You’ve made all of your choices. Can’t change any of them now. The only choice left now, is when you leave.”
The bartender walked away from Will, still polishing the mug. Will watched him for a while, then stared at the key in his hand. He looked at the pathetic souls sitting alone at their tables and looking at nothing but the glasses in front of them. He didn’t want to stay here.
Taking a deep breath, Will gripped the key tightly in his fist and got off the barstool. Nervous sweat ran down his face as he resignedly made his way to the door at the back of the bar. He had to make a focused effort to stop his hands shaking and finally got the key into the lock on the fourth try.
With the key in place, the frame around the door glowed softly. For a long time, Will stood there holding the key in the lock, trying to remember his life and the choices he had made. Were there more good choices or bad? Will didn’t know. He couldn’t remember anything about his life other than what he’d told the bartender.
Will turned the key in the lock. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed through the door.
|
Bonus points if it's a western. | [WP] " Here friend, take a drink and tell me your tale." "It seems I just got out of a violent gunfight" "Woah, how'd you survive? " " That's the thing, I don't think I did. " | Disclaimer: I am not very good at writing but I love this subreddit so I thought I would give it a go. Please be gentle
"You dont think you survived?" The bartender chuckled. "What do you mean by that?"
"I don't know, it's this weird feeling, I guess."
John took a sip of his drink. He felt a bit more refreshed as the cool drink splashed to the back of his throat. It was the same drink that he had always ordered at that dive-bar on the corner. The name of the drink escaped him.
"Tell me about this feeling you are having," said the bartender.
"It's hard to explain," John replied.
"Well start by telling me what happened tonight, Ill see if I can help."
John didnt know exactly what this feeling was, a feeling of unease. But somehow, he felt comforted by the bartender who stood before him. He was a tall, slender man who wore the same attire he had seen many other bartenders wear. Jeans and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had short brown hair and some slight stubble.
The way he spoke to John reminded him of his father. The only person in John's life who was able to calm and control him, following the passing of his mother. This may have been why John was so quick to open up to this unknown bartender.
"Well, tonight was like any other night. I was sitting at home, watching something on Netflix...I think." John squinted his eyed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying hard to remember.
"Everything ok?" asked the bartender.
"Yeah, it's just a little fuzzy."
"Take your time."
John took another sip from his drink, "Oh yeah, then my phone rang. IT was my buddy Chris, wanting to know if I had any more co-," John stopped himself as he cut his eyes to the bartender, "he wanted to see if I wanted to hangout."
"That's nice, he a good friend of yours?" asked the bartender.
"Yeah, I mean, I guess. We've known each other for a few years."
"Where did you meet him?"
"In college, sophomore year."
John shifted in his seat. "Everything Ok?" the bartender asked again.
"Yeah, just brought up some bad memories."
"Like what?" the bartender asked.
John hesitated; he had not talked to many people about what happened his Sophomore year of college. It was a tough time in his life and it did not cast him in the best light. But, for some reason John felt at ease when he looked at the bartender, who was polishing drink glasses with a small cloth. John took another sip of his drink.
"Growing up, I always played sports. Football in particular," John began, "and after my mother passed away when I was young, I dedicated all I had to the sport. I ended up playing the sport through high school and even into college."
"That's great, I'm sure your father is proud." said the bartender with a gentle smile on his face.
"He *was* proud," John stated.
"Was?"
"Yeah, up until my sophomore year. I injured myself and had to give up the sport." said John as he lowered his gaze, saddened.
"I'm sorry to hear that, but why would your father not be proud still? I mean, it's not your fault you got injured," said the bartender, attempting to cheer John up.
"It wasn't the injuring myself that did it, it was what I did after."
John stopped and looked up at the bartender, expecting a response. But one never came. He just stood there, gazing at John, waiting for him either to continue or stop rehashing his past. John continued.
"When I gave up the sport, I was depressed. My whole life was done in my mind. So I did whatever I could to help ease the pain. Partied, drank heavily, experimented with drugs. That's when I met-"
"Chris?" The bartender interrupted.
"Yeah. I was at a party and was looking for someone who could score me some weed. That's when I was introduced to Chris."
"I see." said the bartender.
"Yeah, he ended up being the guy I always called to get my fix. We actually became friends...well as good of friends as a drug dealer and depressed college student could be." John let out a broken chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. The bartender just waited, and listened.
"Eventually Chris started to take me him on deliveries. He said that it was always safer to have someone with him when he had to deliver large amounts."
"Then what happened," asked the bartender.
"Not long after I started to help Chris in his *business*, my father found out what I was doing. He was very upset with me and wanted to know why I would do that. He wanted me to stop. But all I did was lash out and blame him for everything."
John fell silent. The thought of his father and how he worried about John's safety brought tears to his eyes. Instead of talking to his father like he always did, he met him with anger and resentment that night. Before he became lost in his thoughts, the bartender spoke.
"So is that why Chris called you tonight?"
"huh? Um....yeah. He said he needed to get this delivery done tonight but was not gonna be able to make it. So he asked if I would take it instead."
"Did you?"
"Yeah."
"Alone?"
"Yeah."
"Mhmm," the bartender muttered as he turned to put up the polished glasses on the shelf. "So what happened when you went?"
"Nothing at first. It seemed like a typical delivery. I met the client in a somewhat public place to exchange money for product. But.." John paused.
"But, What," asked the bartender.
"When I got there, the guy seemed....different. Almost as if he was nervous or something. Either way, it wasn't right."
"Did Something happen?" The bartender asked.
"I think...I cant really remember everything. All I can remember is him saying that I'm not his usual guy and that I look like a cop. After that its kind of just fades out. And then I ended up here."
"that's unfortunate," said the bartender. He was looking at John with what seemed disappointment. The same look that his father would give him when he did something bad as a kid.
John looked down into his almost empty glass and began to mumble.
"I shouldn't have gone," John said "I should have just listened to my father that night. I should have just told him what was bothering me."
"I hear that a lot," said the bartender
"What?" John was confused.
"Lot of people come through hear talking bout the past and how they wish they could take it all back."
"Yeah, and what do you say to them?"
"I tell them it's not too late to start."
Yeah, I guess your right." John turns up his glass to finish off his drinkas the bartender begins to speak.
"Glad that you are seeing things clear."
As he takes the last gulp he exhales into the glass, still held in front of his face.
"What was that," John asked.
"CLEAR!"
The loud yell startled John, making him through himself back in his chair, tipping backwards and falling to the ground. He hit with a hard thud, instantly causing a pain in his chest. Eye clinched shut from the pain, he reached to clutch his chest. As he reached, he was greeted by a hand. It was a firm hand. It was callused and dry; not the same as the bartender's who he had been speaking to for what seemed like a lifetime. No, this hand belonged to someone else. Someone John had known for a long time. John opened his eyes. He was at the local hospital. Confused, he turned to see who this hand belonged to. When he did, he saw a man with a scruffy beard and tears in his eyes.
"Dad," John said as tears began to fill his eyes, "Are you ok?"
John's father smiled, weeping as he leaned in, wrapping his arms around John's neck.
"I am now, Son."
| Neon beer signs reflected off the old-fashioned jukebox sitting in the corner playing an old country song. The tinny music filled the smoky room with a soft, annoying buzz that the few patrons slouched around the place did their best to ignore. Will stood in front of the jukebox staring at the song list without much interest. Country music wasn’t his style. After scanning through the songs one last time, he turned his back on the machine and looked around the mostly empty bar with little more enthusiasm than he had for the jukebox. Having nothing better to do, he sighed in resignation and made his way over to one of the bar stools with the least duct tape holding it together.
The bartender finished wiping the mug in his hands. The same mug he’d been cleaning for the last five minutes. He put the mug on the counter behind him, draped his towel over his shoulder, and walked down to stand across from Will.
“Evening,” he said, his eyes showing no more interest than his voice conveyed. “What’ll it be?”
Will scratched his shoulder and looked around like a man in a daze. Nobody else was at the bar. The few people at the tables and booths around the room nursed their drinks, paying no attention to what was going on. Will looked up at the bartender and cleared his throat.
“I … I’m not sure,” he said.
“You’re not sure what you want to drink?” the bartender asked.
“I’m not sure about anything,” Will said.
The bartender considered Will for a moment, then turned and grabbed an unlabeled green bottle from behind the bar. He dropped a couple ice cubes into a short glass, and added a generous splash of the clear liquid from the green bottle.
“Here friend,” he said, putting the glass in front of Will. “Take a drink and tell me your tale.”
Will watched the glass in front of him with no more enthusiasm than he had for anything in the bar. With a shrug, he took a sip of the drink, holding it on his tongue and letting the alcohol vapors clear his head. He swallowed, feeling the burn as the liquid flowed down his throat. He concentrated on breathing for a moment, until the throat closing effects of the alcohol passed. Will looked at the bartender with a little more alertness.
“It seems,” said Will, “I just got out of a violent gun fight.”
“Whoa,” said the bartender. He picked up the green bottle and replaced what Will had taken from the glass. “How’d you survive?”
“That’s the thing,” Will said. He held the glass between his palms, slowly rotating it back and forth, feeling the chill of the ice settle into his hands. “I don’t think I did.”
The bartender raised an eyebrow as Will took another drink. “You don’t think you did,” he replied, crossing his arms and leaning back on the counter. “What makes you say that?”
“I don’t know,” Will said, lifting the glass to his lips. He took a larger sip. “I don’t remember much about it, or about anything really. It’s more of a feeling than anything else.”
“What do you remember?”
“It’s hazy. I remember hearing gunshots all around me. A lot of screaming. That’s it. The next thing I remember, I was standing here staring at your jukebox with all the shitty country songs.”
The bartender snorted and shook his head. Will couldn’t tell if it was amusement or disdain.
“If you didn’t survive, how can we be having this conversation? How can you be sipping my booze if your six feet under?”
“Damn fine question,” Will replied, taking another drink.
The bartender looked at him for a while, then leaned in on his elbows to look Will in the eye.
“What would you say if I told you that you came in here,” the bartender said, gesturing to the back of the room “and sat in that corner booth for half an hour before going to jukebox and coming here for a drink?”
“Bullshit,” Will said without hesitation. “This is the last place I would ever come. No offense.” The bartender just nodded his head, and Will continued. “I never go out by myself, and when I do go out it’s not to a bar. I don’t even drink.” Will chuckled as he saluted the bartender with his glass and contradicted himself by downing the rest of his drink. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this.”
“Interesting choice of words,” the bartender said. “So what’s keeping you here?”
“Damned if I know,” Will said. He got up, threw a few bills from his wallet onto the bar, and headed for the door. He put his hand against the door and pushed, but the door didn’t budge. Will stared at the door, dumbfounded. The hand plate clearly said “Push” above it. Will leaned into the door, putting all his weight into it, but it refused to move.
“You can’t get out that way,” the bartender said calmly from the bar.
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t go out the same way you came in,” he said with a shrug. “Sorry. House rules.”
Will looked back at that bartender in confusion. “How do I get out?”
The bartender refilled the empty glass on the bar, and gestured will to the empty stool. “Here friend,” he said. “Take a drink and listen to *my* tale.”
Will walked woodenly back to the bar and took his seat. His hand shook slightly when he picked up his glass. After he took another drink, the bartender reached down and pulled a plain wooden box from under the bar. When he opened it, will saw that it was filled with hundreds of keys of all shapes and sizes.
The bartender picked up a handful of keys and let them slide out of his hand back into the box. “To get out, you have to use one of these keys.” He pointed to the back of the room at the end of the bar. “Each one will open that door.”
“If they all open the door,” Will said slowly, “why are there so many?”
“Because a man’s got to have choices.”
“Choices,” Will repeated.
“A man’s life is made up of choices,” the bartender said. “Some good, some bad. Those choices define a man. Tell what he’s made of. So now, you have a choice. You have to choose which key you use to open that door. Some choices are good, some choices are bad.” The bartender leaned in and fixed Will with a serious look. “Choose.”
Will swallowed as the bartender glared at him. He reached out and pushed the keys around. Will dug into the box of keys, trying to find the bottom. His arm went in to the wrist, the elbow and finally the shoulder without ever touching to bottom of the box. The bartender stood unmoving, watching as Will felt around in the box. Finally, Will closed his hand around a key, and drew it out. The key was silver colored, and looked like nothing more than any other door key in the world.
“What do I do now,” Will asked.
“That’s up to you,” the bartender said. He closed the box and put it back beneath the bar, then picked up an empty mug and started polishing it with his towel. “You can stay here as long as you like. Stay here until you’re good and sick of it, if that’s what you want.” He waved his hand towards the others in the bar. “Stay here with the others who haven’t made up their mind to leave yet.”
“Where will the door take me?”
“I can’t say that I know,” the bartender said without looking from his work. “But you’ve made your choice. You’ve made all of your choices. Can’t change any of them now. The only choice left now, is when you leave.”
The bartender walked away from Will, still polishing the mug. Will watched him for a while, then stared at the key in his hand. He looked at the pathetic souls sitting alone at their tables and looking at nothing but the glasses in front of them. He didn’t want to stay here.
Taking a deep breath, Will gripped the key tightly in his fist and got off the barstool. Nervous sweat ran down his face as he resignedly made his way to the door at the back of the bar. He had to make a focused effort to stop his hands shaking and finally got the key into the lock on the fourth try.
With the key in place, the frame around the door glowed softly. For a long time, Will stood there holding the key in the lock, trying to remember his life and the choices he had made. Were there more good choices or bad? Will didn’t know. He couldn’t remember anything about his life other than what he’d told the bartender.
Will turned the key in the lock. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed through the door.
|
Bonus points if it's a western. | [WP] " Here friend, take a drink and tell me your tale." "It seems I just got out of a violent gunfight" "Woah, how'd you survive? " " That's the thing, I don't think I did. " | “Oh yeah? How can you be sure?” The person on the bar stool buying the drink asks as the bartender slides over a beer.
“I mean there was the blacking out and waking up here part. There were a lot of shots from the sheriff, and I think maybe one hit me, but that’s not the main reason.” I tell my new found confidant.
“Then what’s the real reason.” He asks, acquiring a beer himself.
“I don’t think I wanted to survive.” I tell him. I pause, expecting him to freak out or look for the sheriff to call, or spit take his beer, or at least frown. He doesn’t do any of these things. He merely sips his beer and watches me casually as if I’m regaling him with a funny anecdote about a couple chickens chasing a dog. “See, I’ve been prairie dogging this area for a while now. I find a quiet place that hasn’t seen a lot of robbery in a while. I look around to see where there’s money, maybe a bank, maybe a mine, maybe just cattle, and you hit’em when they least expect it.”
“Seems to be a sound method of operation.” The stranger sipping his beer says. He is very aptly named a *strange*er, because his reaction is not at all what I expected. I can understand the bartender not say something, that’s kind of his job, and the other patrons of this establishment were probably out of earshot, especially with the piano going, but this guy was hearing me loud and clear. Surely the average person did not respond in such a manner to a claim of death and a life of crime, but his non-judgmental attitude spurs me on. “So what happened this time cowboy? I expect a criminal of your caliber is not tripped up by just some regular old sheriff. I reckon it would take some federal marshals to bring you down.”
“That’s the thing, like I said. I kind of didn’t want to make it. This time I was hitting up a cattle farm, not the most profitable, but if you can make off with a couple good steers the money is still decent. Everything is going alright, and then I look back, big mistake looking back. I see this old lady with her five young kids standing on the porch, not saying anything, not calling for help, just looking at me. I don’t know if the father was dead or just no there at the time, but I knew when I drove those cattle away that I was starving at least a family of five. It got me to thinking. How many other young families have I starved that were just trying to get by. I started doing the math on how much money I stole, how much everything I had taken was all worth, and the number of people was higher than you and I could count on both sets of our feet and hands.” I take a large swig from my beer.
“That’s what did me in I figure. I didn’t turn myself in, but I made a stupid mistake. I went back to hit the bank, same town. Everybody knows you don’t hit the same place twice in less than 24 hours. Sure enough the sheriff was waiting, and we go to shootin’ at each other, and well, here I am.” I take another large swig of my beer. “So you tell me stranger, what’s going on.”
The stranger puts his beer down and leans back.
“Well partner you probably got your bearings by now, so I’ll just keep this brief. You ain’t in heaven as there ain’t no angels, and you ain’t in hell because there ain’t no demons either. So where does that leave you?” I remember a preacher talking about a place like this a while back.
“Purgatory?” I ask. The stranger nods his head.
“So what am I doing here and who are you if you’re not an angel?”
“You are here son because I bet if I told you the almighty was right outside you’d hide your head in shame for what you done. As for who am I? Let’s just say I’m the guy whose going to sit here buying you beers until you forgive yourself for what you done so you can look the almighty in the eye when you move on out.”
Sidenote: I’ve written like three of these along similar lines in the last week. I think this is a trend. | "That's the thing, I don't think I did."
"Excellent", replied the demon. "It usually takes longer for people to realize and accept where they are. You weren't a very good person, now were you Edward?" |
Meant to put he/she but forgot. My bad. | [WP] Friends of a hero slowly watch as he becomes a villain. | He was the most inspirational teacher I'd met. He had a way of making science real, and a weariness that sat on his shoulders. When he first found his power, I was happy for him. He needed some strength, that I knew for certain, and something to rely on. But things gradually changed. His appearances in school became more sporadic, he was distracted, always on his cell phone. I could feel his mind wasn't really on theory, when I mentioned it, he said he was becoming more practical. People started hanging around the school looking for him, there was a lawyer I think. He shaved his head. I knew he was experiencing some personal trouble, but it seemed to bring out something in him, what it was I didn't know. I even asked him about it one day, but he was evasive. He still remained as steady as ever.
There was something about his eyes that had changed. He no longer carried himself mildly, he no longer walked with a stride of a high school teacher. He looked dangerous. I almost dismissed that thought, he never once had shown himself to be a dangerous man, but he was changing. He had changed.
Then, one day, he didn't return to the school.
I didn't know why for the longest time.
Until I heard.
"Mr. White is a meth kingpin." | Jack,
I am writing this because I want you to understand. I will be sending copies of this letter to the police, District Attorney, and the Jenneric Journal. I know you will not forgive me for this betrayal. Just know that I do not forgive you for her death.
I wanted us to be brothers. I was rooting for you. I never, not for one second, believed that anyone else was good enough for my sister. You had such passion. Such an unwavering belief in the capacity for humanity to do good. You, of all the people of Jenneric City, had the courage to be something more than a victim of the evil which plagues our city.
I am not ashamed to admit that in the early days, I helped you. I designed the mask which you thought would hide your identity. I helped you build the tools you use on your once-noble crusade. I helped, because I believed in the cause.
And you have done your good. The criminals have been neutered by their fear of you. But still you fight on, addicted to the rush of power. It was this addiction which killed her.
I told you not to face him. "The Longthought is too powerful." Do you remember those words? I warned you he would be your downfall. But you refused to back down, or accept help, and you declared him your "archenemy."
And he learned your identity, and he learned of your love for my sister, and he killed her before she had a chance to return it. And the worst part is that instead of bringing Longthought in, to face the people's justice, you killed him. *You murdered him in cold blood, just like he murdered my sister.* You spat in the face of everything we stood for when you robbed him of his day in court.
The police claim it was an accident, the press ruled it self defense. They just want to believe that you are still a symbol of justice. I know the truth. You are not a hero, not anymore You let my sister die, and then you stole her justice.
And so, people of Jenneric City, I ask that you join me. I, Anderton Allen, pledge my wealth and resources to the downfall of the vigilante known as The Might. Join me, and we will prove we need no hero! From here on out, we will be our own might!
P.S. you want an archenemy, Jack? I'll give you a fucking archenemy. |
Meant to put he/she but forgot. My bad. | [WP] Friends of a hero slowly watch as he becomes a villain. | "Shawn, you're becoming a villain."
Lilly had a reputation for getting straight to the point. Everyone else in the room cringed. They all knew what she said was true but had planned to slowly cosy up to the hard talk over the course of the evening. But now the cat was out of the bag and it had shit on the carpet.
Shawn looked shocked.
"No I'm not!" he retorted. His agitation caused the bbq chicken pizza to flip over.
"Yes you are. You said you'd use your mind powers only to help people and now you're using them to," Lily pointed toward the kitchen, "make pudding."
The sounds from the kitchen stopped abruptly.
"That's hardly a villainous thing to do," said Shawn coolly.
"What about the thing you did to that mugger?" Jake spoke up.
"That was his fault."
"It was his fault to get hit by a car because you made him think he was a deer?"
"Yes, of course!" The pizza flipped the right way up again. "He was a criminal. He got what was coming to him."
"But Shawn," this time it was Suzanna, "you're also using your powers to gamble money away from unsuspecting people."
"So what? They're gamblers, they know they're risking their money going in. And someone's gotta win anyway. Why not me?"
"What you did to Mrs. Weathertop wasn't cool man." It was Aziz.
Shawn's breathing quickened, causing the lights in the room to flicker.
"That bitch said I was nothing without my powers. She deserved to have her brain turned to mush."
"But Shawn-"
"Shut up!"
The bulb of the lamp next to Shawn burst as he stood up, seething in rage. "Giving you guys your thoughts back was a big mistake," he bellowed and waved his hand. His friends calmed down as their eyes glossed over.
"We're having so much fun!" exclaimed Jake a couple of seconds later and started wolfing down on the pizza.
Lily crawled onto Shawn's lap. "You're the best, baby."
"I know." | Jack,
I am writing this because I want you to understand. I will be sending copies of this letter to the police, District Attorney, and the Jenneric Journal. I know you will not forgive me for this betrayal. Just know that I do not forgive you for her death.
I wanted us to be brothers. I was rooting for you. I never, not for one second, believed that anyone else was good enough for my sister. You had such passion. Such an unwavering belief in the capacity for humanity to do good. You, of all the people of Jenneric City, had the courage to be something more than a victim of the evil which plagues our city.
I am not ashamed to admit that in the early days, I helped you. I designed the mask which you thought would hide your identity. I helped you build the tools you use on your once-noble crusade. I helped, because I believed in the cause.
And you have done your good. The criminals have been neutered by their fear of you. But still you fight on, addicted to the rush of power. It was this addiction which killed her.
I told you not to face him. "The Longthought is too powerful." Do you remember those words? I warned you he would be your downfall. But you refused to back down, or accept help, and you declared him your "archenemy."
And he learned your identity, and he learned of your love for my sister, and he killed her before she had a chance to return it. And the worst part is that instead of bringing Longthought in, to face the people's justice, you killed him. *You murdered him in cold blood, just like he murdered my sister.* You spat in the face of everything we stood for when you robbed him of his day in court.
The police claim it was an accident, the press ruled it self defense. They just want to believe that you are still a symbol of justice. I know the truth. You are not a hero, not anymore You let my sister die, and then you stole her justice.
And so, people of Jenneric City, I ask that you join me. I, Anderton Allen, pledge my wealth and resources to the downfall of the vigilante known as The Might. Join me, and we will prove we need no hero! From here on out, we will be our own might!
P.S. you want an archenemy, Jack? I'll give you a fucking archenemy. |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | It's not as if I'm an unkind soul, it's just that from about six by two full orbits of Sol onwards I was simply sick of it all. Although not outwardly disdainful, a painful lump of cynicism burnt hotly within. | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am a husband and a dad. I work in IT for a global car company and am also an aspiring politician.
I also play drums and do martial arts to stay fit and unwind. | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am thought of by most as small, but in my mind, I am big. I run big. I think big. I clarify big facts. I craft big myths. I find big innovations. My soul is big, and if it but had an opportunity, it could touch infinity. If I could but match my body to my spirit, all would know who I am within. For now, though, my body is my prison, closing in tight around my soul and stopping humanity from looking in, and I am but small. | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Hi pal, I'm Jack. I go to school and study ways to apply math and physics to worldly issues. I am a participant on my school's track squad - I only do high jump and long jump. I'm a big dork; I do math willingly, only play classical music, and I don't go out and party. I am very happy with how I'm doing and I wouldn't modify anything. Also, I think Gatsby is an amazing book. | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am an actor of the lady-sort. My craft is my passion. I also obtain joy from knitting, baking, trivia night with my boy, and marathon-watching that show with another lady actor, Ms. Graham, in which quirky words flow from mom to kid, Rory, in a quaint town up north in the US.
(Jeez it's hard to describe Gilmore Girls without an E) | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm not good at living. I try hard but accomplish nothing. To most I am not worth anything. I am living solo for all my days. | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was, against my will, in a city as cold and dark as my soul could stand. So not too long ago, I put my things in two gigantic bags and took a flight to California, with no plan to go back. Now and again I miss my family and all my old buds. But obviously this is amazing. I found a job. I bought a car. I can run along Pacific sands any morning, any night. But I know a part of who I am had to stay in Boston, and should I go back, I know I will find it waiting--still cold, still dark, still haunting and saving my world. I will still root for my Pats. And the Sox. Always. | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | "I always start off alright; it always turns out that I'm incapable." | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | It was a casual Sunday; a kind of day that a man informs his kids about as thoughts of far away lands and sugar plum kingdoms paint grand murals in nightly comas. I was sitting in a booth at a sandwich shop, minding my own, but that was all about to morph into a dubious situation. A clairvoyant inkling sang to my soul, informing this man that finally, through trials, ultimatums, and hard campaigns, my bounty sat in stoical tranquility. A ham and swiss, in all of its six-inch glory and rich savory flavors, cut in half through a lumpy stack of avocado, bacon, and onion. My hand blindly slid to my fanny to try and find cash to pay a gracious toll, my mouth slick with anticipation. But alas, I abruptly thought back as to why I lay around with no lady, car, or cool things; in truth, no job and I crash at my mom's at no cost as long as I do laundry. No pussy for a guy with thin walls. Or subs. Cuz I'm not known for you know... Working. | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Lacking an obviously vital symbol at my disposal, I stay strong at this uncommon task of navigating our form of communication with such a boundary. I am not normally this bold in my actions, and usually shy away from social contact. | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | This task isn't particularly difficult for such an arrogant linguist. Though, I admit it is ambitious - writing without a symbol most individuals cannot avoid. That said, I will happily honor a task of glorifying yours truly with this limitation.
Hi to you, I go by Dan. I am fond of long walks on sandy coasts, holding hands and dimly lit pinics with bubbly drinks. Watching suns fall into dark and moons climb. Skinny dipping is my thing, along with piggy-back lifts. As a hobby, I form brilliant music with my mouth, but that is not all it can do, as you will soon know. I could go on and on, but I will hold all my quality points for our confrontation in daylight. How about us going to my condo for a bit of fun?
Wait, this is a dating app, isn't it? | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I cannot say my name, for it contains a symbol OP will not allow today. I work in ab industry of advising folks who study and obtain loans for said studying. My job is okay, days go by and I think I would find joy in a job that has no angry folks to talk to, but my pay is good.
I am going to drink alcohol tonight and hang out with pals. | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I find that such a difficult task is actually a way to polish your mind and as such I find tasks such as this amusing. In primary school I was always part of a group of smart kids and I always thought I had to work hard to stay that way, though work was loathing. This may sound contradictory to what I said but my point is that if I don't pick what I work on I will not work at full capacity. If it's a task for fun I will no doubt stay on it for hours with upmost joy. I wish to fix this lazy habit. I would no doubt surpass my skills and stand out in my job.
Holy shit that was difficult | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | I am a girl. I am short with a brown bob hair cut. I own a PC that I built on my own. I work with folk who cannot pick up audio inwardly. Communication is usually hard work, but gratifying. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | It's not as if I'm an unkind soul, it's just that from about six by two full orbits of Sol onwards I was simply sick of it all. Although not outwardly disdainful, a painful lump of cynicism burnt hotly within. | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am a husband and a dad. I work in IT for a global car company and am also an aspiring politician.
I also play drums and do martial arts to stay fit and unwind. | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am thought of by most as small, but in my mind, I am big. I run big. I think big. I clarify big facts. I craft big myths. I find big innovations. My soul is big, and if it but had an opportunity, it could touch infinity. If I could but match my body to my spirit, all would know who I am within. For now, though, my body is my prison, closing in tight around my soul and stopping humanity from looking in, and I am but small. | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Hi pal, I'm Jack. I go to school and study ways to apply math and physics to worldly issues. I am a participant on my school's track squad - I only do high jump and long jump. I'm a big dork; I do math willingly, only play classical music, and I don't go out and party. I am very happy with how I'm doing and I wouldn't modify anything. Also, I think Gatsby is an amazing book. | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am an actor of the lady-sort. My craft is my passion. I also obtain joy from knitting, baking, trivia night with my boy, and marathon-watching that show with another lady actor, Ms. Graham, in which quirky words flow from mom to kid, Rory, in a quaint town up north in the US.
(Jeez it's hard to describe Gilmore Girls without an E) | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm not good at living. I try hard but accomplish nothing. To most I am not worth anything. I am living solo for all my days. | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was, against my will, in a city as cold and dark as my soul could stand. So not too long ago, I put my things in two gigantic bags and took a flight to California, with no plan to go back. Now and again I miss my family and all my old buds. But obviously this is amazing. I found a job. I bought a car. I can run along Pacific sands any morning, any night. But I know a part of who I am had to stay in Boston, and should I go back, I know I will find it waiting--still cold, still dark, still haunting and saving my world. I will still root for my Pats. And the Sox. Always. | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | "I always start off alright; it always turns out that I'm incapable." | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | It was a casual Sunday; a kind of day that a man informs his kids about as thoughts of far away lands and sugar plum kingdoms paint grand murals in nightly comas. I was sitting in a booth at a sandwich shop, minding my own, but that was all about to morph into a dubious situation. A clairvoyant inkling sang to my soul, informing this man that finally, through trials, ultimatums, and hard campaigns, my bounty sat in stoical tranquility. A ham and swiss, in all of its six-inch glory and rich savory flavors, cut in half through a lumpy stack of avocado, bacon, and onion. My hand blindly slid to my fanny to try and find cash to pay a gracious toll, my mouth slick with anticipation. But alas, I abruptly thought back as to why I lay around with no lady, car, or cool things; in truth, no job and I crash at my mom's at no cost as long as I do laundry. No pussy for a guy with thin walls. Or subs. Cuz I'm not known for you know... Working. | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Lacking an obviously vital symbol at my disposal, I stay strong at this uncommon task of navigating our form of communication with such a boundary. I am not normally this bold in my actions, and usually shy away from social contact. | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | This task isn't particularly difficult for such an arrogant linguist. Though, I admit it is ambitious - writing without a symbol most individuals cannot avoid. That said, I will happily honor a task of glorifying yours truly with this limitation.
Hi to you, I go by Dan. I am fond of long walks on sandy coasts, holding hands and dimly lit pinics with bubbly drinks. Watching suns fall into dark and moons climb. Skinny dipping is my thing, along with piggy-back lifts. As a hobby, I form brilliant music with my mouth, but that is not all it can do, as you will soon know. I could go on and on, but I will hold all my quality points for our confrontation in daylight. How about us going to my condo for a bit of fun?
Wait, this is a dating app, isn't it? | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I cannot say my name, for it contains a symbol OP will not allow today. I work in ab industry of advising folks who study and obtain loans for said studying. My job is okay, days go by and I think I would find joy in a job that has no angry folks to talk to, but my pay is good.
I am going to drink alcohol tonight and hang out with pals. | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I find that such a difficult task is actually a way to polish your mind and as such I find tasks such as this amusing. In primary school I was always part of a group of smart kids and I always thought I had to work hard to stay that way, though work was loathing. This may sound contradictory to what I said but my point is that if I don't pick what I work on I will not work at full capacity. If it's a task for fun I will no doubt stay on it for hours with upmost joy. I wish to fix this lazy habit. I would no doubt surpass my skills and stand out in my job.
Holy shit that was difficult | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | I am a goldsmith for Catbird in Brooklyn. Daily, I am manipulating raw gold stock to build rings that you can adorn your hands with. I also am an acrobat, flying and spinning in air. I lift and row. Also, my cat is fluffy and charming. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Hi pal, I'm Jack. I go to school and study ways to apply math and physics to worldly issues. I am a participant on my school's track squad - I only do high jump and long jump. I'm a big dork; I do math willingly, only play classical music, and I don't go out and party. I am very happy with how I'm doing and I wouldn't modify anything. Also, I think Gatsby is an amazing book. | I run. Running is fun. But music is also fun. Going to a location of music playing is my first pick for an activity. Big locations with many bands playing would win against only a band. During july and august I go to many big location many band things. Gov ball is a fun illustration of this. During cold months, I still go to many music things. In my backpack I own 5 cards to go to bands' things during this upcoming month. If i am not at a bands' thing, I also think music on an ipod is good. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am an actor of the lady-sort. My craft is my passion. I also obtain joy from knitting, baking, trivia night with my boy, and marathon-watching that show with another lady actor, Ms. Graham, in which quirky words flow from mom to kid, Rory, in a quaint town up north in the US.
(Jeez it's hard to describe Gilmore Girls without an E) | I run. Running is fun. But music is also fun. Going to a location of music playing is my first pick for an activity. Big locations with many bands playing would win against only a band. During july and august I go to many big location many band things. Gov ball is a fun illustration of this. During cold months, I still go to many music things. In my backpack I own 5 cards to go to bands' things during this upcoming month. If i am not at a bands' thing, I also think music on an ipod is good. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm not good at living. I try hard but accomplish nothing. To most I am not worth anything. I am living solo for all my days. | I run. Running is fun. But music is also fun. Going to a location of music playing is my first pick for an activity. Big locations with many bands playing would win against only a band. During july and august I go to many big location many band things. Gov ball is a fun illustration of this. During cold months, I still go to many music things. In my backpack I own 5 cards to go to bands' things during this upcoming month. If i am not at a bands' thing, I also think music on an ipod is good. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was, against my will, in a city as cold and dark as my soul could stand. So not too long ago, I put my things in two gigantic bags and took a flight to California, with no plan to go back. Now and again I miss my family and all my old buds. But obviously this is amazing. I found a job. I bought a car. I can run along Pacific sands any morning, any night. But I know a part of who I am had to stay in Boston, and should I go back, I know I will find it waiting--still cold, still dark, still haunting and saving my world. I will still root for my Pats. And the Sox. Always. | I run. Running is fun. But music is also fun. Going to a location of music playing is my first pick for an activity. Big locations with many bands playing would win against only a band. During july and august I go to many big location many band things. Gov ball is a fun illustration of this. During cold months, I still go to many music things. In my backpack I own 5 cards to go to bands' things during this upcoming month. If i am not at a bands' thing, I also think music on an ipod is good. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | "I always start off alright; it always turns out that I'm incapable." | I run. Running is fun. But music is also fun. Going to a location of music playing is my first pick for an activity. Big locations with many bands playing would win against only a band. During july and august I go to many big location many band things. Gov ball is a fun illustration of this. During cold months, I still go to many music things. In my backpack I own 5 cards to go to bands' things during this upcoming month. If i am not at a bands' thing, I also think music on an ipod is good. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | It was a casual Sunday; a kind of day that a man informs his kids about as thoughts of far away lands and sugar plum kingdoms paint grand murals in nightly comas. I was sitting in a booth at a sandwich shop, minding my own, but that was all about to morph into a dubious situation. A clairvoyant inkling sang to my soul, informing this man that finally, through trials, ultimatums, and hard campaigns, my bounty sat in stoical tranquility. A ham and swiss, in all of its six-inch glory and rich savory flavors, cut in half through a lumpy stack of avocado, bacon, and onion. My hand blindly slid to my fanny to try and find cash to pay a gracious toll, my mouth slick with anticipation. But alas, I abruptly thought back as to why I lay around with no lady, car, or cool things; in truth, no job and I crash at my mom's at no cost as long as I do laundry. No pussy for a guy with thin walls. Or subs. Cuz I'm not known for you know... Working. | I run. Running is fun. But music is also fun. Going to a location of music playing is my first pick for an activity. Big locations with many bands playing would win against only a band. During july and august I go to many big location many band things. Gov ball is a fun illustration of this. During cold months, I still go to many music things. In my backpack I own 5 cards to go to bands' things during this upcoming month. If i am not at a bands' thing, I also think music on an ipod is good. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Lacking an obviously vital symbol at my disposal, I stay strong at this uncommon task of navigating our form of communication with such a boundary. I am not normally this bold in my actions, and usually shy away from social contact. | I run. Running is fun. But music is also fun. Going to a location of music playing is my first pick for an activity. Big locations with many bands playing would win against only a band. During july and august I go to many big location many band things. Gov ball is a fun illustration of this. During cold months, I still go to many music things. In my backpack I own 5 cards to go to bands' things during this upcoming month. If i am not at a bands' thing, I also think music on an ipod is good. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | This task isn't particularly difficult for such an arrogant linguist. Though, I admit it is ambitious - writing without a symbol most individuals cannot avoid. That said, I will happily honor a task of glorifying yours truly with this limitation.
Hi to you, I go by Dan. I am fond of long walks on sandy coasts, holding hands and dimly lit pinics with bubbly drinks. Watching suns fall into dark and moons climb. Skinny dipping is my thing, along with piggy-back lifts. As a hobby, I form brilliant music with my mouth, but that is not all it can do, as you will soon know. I could go on and on, but I will hold all my quality points for our confrontation in daylight. How about us going to my condo for a bit of fun?
Wait, this is a dating app, isn't it? | I run. Running is fun. But music is also fun. Going to a location of music playing is my first pick for an activity. Big locations with many bands playing would win against only a band. During july and august I go to many big location many band things. Gov ball is a fun illustration of this. During cold months, I still go to many music things. In my backpack I own 5 cards to go to bands' things during this upcoming month. If i am not at a bands' thing, I also think music on an ipod is good. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I cannot say my name, for it contains a symbol OP will not allow today. I work in ab industry of advising folks who study and obtain loans for said studying. My job is okay, days go by and I think I would find joy in a job that has no angry folks to talk to, but my pay is good.
I am going to drink alcohol tonight and hang out with pals. | I run. Running is fun. But music is also fun. Going to a location of music playing is my first pick for an activity. Big locations with many bands playing would win against only a band. During july and august I go to many big location many band things. Gov ball is a fun illustration of this. During cold months, I still go to many music things. In my backpack I own 5 cards to go to bands' things during this upcoming month. If i am not at a bands' thing, I also think music on an ipod is good. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | I run. Running is fun. But music is also fun. Going to a location of music playing is my first pick for an activity. Big locations with many bands playing would win against only a band. During july and august I go to many big location many band things. Gov ball is a fun illustration of this. During cold months, I still go to many music things. In my backpack I own 5 cards to go to bands' things during this upcoming month. If i am not at a bands' thing, I also think music on an ipod is good. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | I run. Running is fun. But music is also fun. Going to a location of music playing is my first pick for an activity. Big locations with many bands playing would win against only a band. During july and august I go to many big location many band things. Gov ball is a fun illustration of this. During cold months, I still go to many music things. In my backpack I own 5 cards to go to bands' things during this upcoming month. If i am not at a bands' thing, I also think music on an ipod is good. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | I run. Running is fun. But music is also fun. Going to a location of music playing is my first pick for an activity. Big locations with many bands playing would win against only a band. During july and august I go to many big location many band things. Gov ball is a fun illustration of this. During cold months, I still go to many music things. In my backpack I own 5 cards to go to bands' things during this upcoming month. If i am not at a bands' thing, I also think music on an ipod is good. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Hi pal, I'm Jack. I go to school and study ways to apply math and physics to worldly issues. I am a participant on my school's track squad - I only do high jump and long jump. I'm a big dork; I do math willingly, only play classical music, and I don't go out and party. I am very happy with how I'm doing and I wouldn't modify anything. Also, I think Gatsby is an amazing book. | As far as i got it, this is quite difficult to fulfill, but I shall try and avoid this type in my writings.
I'm Swiss, sitting in front of my PC browsing around and procrastinating, writing things in this sub and thus not doing stuff i actually should, but still having fun, so what? | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am an actor of the lady-sort. My craft is my passion. I also obtain joy from knitting, baking, trivia night with my boy, and marathon-watching that show with another lady actor, Ms. Graham, in which quirky words flow from mom to kid, Rory, in a quaint town up north in the US.
(Jeez it's hard to describe Gilmore Girls without an E) | As far as i got it, this is quite difficult to fulfill, but I shall try and avoid this type in my writings.
I'm Swiss, sitting in front of my PC browsing around and procrastinating, writing things in this sub and thus not doing stuff i actually should, but still having fun, so what? | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm not good at living. I try hard but accomplish nothing. To most I am not worth anything. I am living solo for all my days. | As far as i got it, this is quite difficult to fulfill, but I shall try and avoid this type in my writings.
I'm Swiss, sitting in front of my PC browsing around and procrastinating, writing things in this sub and thus not doing stuff i actually should, but still having fun, so what? | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was, against my will, in a city as cold and dark as my soul could stand. So not too long ago, I put my things in two gigantic bags and took a flight to California, with no plan to go back. Now and again I miss my family and all my old buds. But obviously this is amazing. I found a job. I bought a car. I can run along Pacific sands any morning, any night. But I know a part of who I am had to stay in Boston, and should I go back, I know I will find it waiting--still cold, still dark, still haunting and saving my world. I will still root for my Pats. And the Sox. Always. | As far as i got it, this is quite difficult to fulfill, but I shall try and avoid this type in my writings.
I'm Swiss, sitting in front of my PC browsing around and procrastinating, writing things in this sub and thus not doing stuff i actually should, but still having fun, so what? | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | "I always start off alright; it always turns out that I'm incapable." | As far as i got it, this is quite difficult to fulfill, but I shall try and avoid this type in my writings.
I'm Swiss, sitting in front of my PC browsing around and procrastinating, writing things in this sub and thus not doing stuff i actually should, but still having fun, so what? | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | It was a casual Sunday; a kind of day that a man informs his kids about as thoughts of far away lands and sugar plum kingdoms paint grand murals in nightly comas. I was sitting in a booth at a sandwich shop, minding my own, but that was all about to morph into a dubious situation. A clairvoyant inkling sang to my soul, informing this man that finally, through trials, ultimatums, and hard campaigns, my bounty sat in stoical tranquility. A ham and swiss, in all of its six-inch glory and rich savory flavors, cut in half through a lumpy stack of avocado, bacon, and onion. My hand blindly slid to my fanny to try and find cash to pay a gracious toll, my mouth slick with anticipation. But alas, I abruptly thought back as to why I lay around with no lady, car, or cool things; in truth, no job and I crash at my mom's at no cost as long as I do laundry. No pussy for a guy with thin walls. Or subs. Cuz I'm not known for you know... Working. | As far as i got it, this is quite difficult to fulfill, but I shall try and avoid this type in my writings.
I'm Swiss, sitting in front of my PC browsing around and procrastinating, writing things in this sub and thus not doing stuff i actually should, but still having fun, so what? | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Lacking an obviously vital symbol at my disposal, I stay strong at this uncommon task of navigating our form of communication with such a boundary. I am not normally this bold in my actions, and usually shy away from social contact. | As far as i got it, this is quite difficult to fulfill, but I shall try and avoid this type in my writings.
I'm Swiss, sitting in front of my PC browsing around and procrastinating, writing things in this sub and thus not doing stuff i actually should, but still having fun, so what? | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | This task isn't particularly difficult for such an arrogant linguist. Though, I admit it is ambitious - writing without a symbol most individuals cannot avoid. That said, I will happily honor a task of glorifying yours truly with this limitation.
Hi to you, I go by Dan. I am fond of long walks on sandy coasts, holding hands and dimly lit pinics with bubbly drinks. Watching suns fall into dark and moons climb. Skinny dipping is my thing, along with piggy-back lifts. As a hobby, I form brilliant music with my mouth, but that is not all it can do, as you will soon know. I could go on and on, but I will hold all my quality points for our confrontation in daylight. How about us going to my condo for a bit of fun?
Wait, this is a dating app, isn't it? | As far as i got it, this is quite difficult to fulfill, but I shall try and avoid this type in my writings.
I'm Swiss, sitting in front of my PC browsing around and procrastinating, writing things in this sub and thus not doing stuff i actually should, but still having fun, so what? | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I cannot say my name, for it contains a symbol OP will not allow today. I work in ab industry of advising folks who study and obtain loans for said studying. My job is okay, days go by and I think I would find joy in a job that has no angry folks to talk to, but my pay is good.
I am going to drink alcohol tonight and hang out with pals. | As far as i got it, this is quite difficult to fulfill, but I shall try and avoid this type in my writings.
I'm Swiss, sitting in front of my PC browsing around and procrastinating, writing things in this sub and thus not doing stuff i actually should, but still having fun, so what? | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | As far as i got it, this is quite difficult to fulfill, but I shall try and avoid this type in my writings.
I'm Swiss, sitting in front of my PC browsing around and procrastinating, writing things in this sub and thus not doing stuff i actually should, but still having fun, so what? | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | As far as i got it, this is quite difficult to fulfill, but I shall try and avoid this type in my writings.
I'm Swiss, sitting in front of my PC browsing around and procrastinating, writing things in this sub and thus not doing stuff i actually should, but still having fun, so what? | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | As far as i got it, this is quite difficult to fulfill, but I shall try and avoid this type in my writings.
I'm Swiss, sitting in front of my PC browsing around and procrastinating, writing things in this sub and thus not doing stuff i actually should, but still having fun, so what? | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am an actor of the lady-sort. My craft is my passion. I also obtain joy from knitting, baking, trivia night with my boy, and marathon-watching that show with another lady actor, Ms. Graham, in which quirky words flow from mom to kid, Rory, in a quaint town up north in the US.
(Jeez it's hard to describe Gilmore Girls without an E) | For a living, I spin yarns about actual things that occur in our world, and in my off hours craft words into bits of art in digital print. I always plan to accomplish things in a big way, but find that my final products lack that grand plan thanks to small grins and soft work. I want to find links in things, if I can, and am trying to spin my grumps into optimism. I should also not put as much food in my mouth as I do, but what can you do in such a short turn? Trying again and again should grant my win if I stick with it. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm not good at living. I try hard but accomplish nothing. To most I am not worth anything. I am living solo for all my days. | For a living, I spin yarns about actual things that occur in our world, and in my off hours craft words into bits of art in digital print. I always plan to accomplish things in a big way, but find that my final products lack that grand plan thanks to small grins and soft work. I want to find links in things, if I can, and am trying to spin my grumps into optimism. I should also not put as much food in my mouth as I do, but what can you do in such a short turn? Trying again and again should grant my win if I stick with it. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was, against my will, in a city as cold and dark as my soul could stand. So not too long ago, I put my things in two gigantic bags and took a flight to California, with no plan to go back. Now and again I miss my family and all my old buds. But obviously this is amazing. I found a job. I bought a car. I can run along Pacific sands any morning, any night. But I know a part of who I am had to stay in Boston, and should I go back, I know I will find it waiting--still cold, still dark, still haunting and saving my world. I will still root for my Pats. And the Sox. Always. | For a living, I spin yarns about actual things that occur in our world, and in my off hours craft words into bits of art in digital print. I always plan to accomplish things in a big way, but find that my final products lack that grand plan thanks to small grins and soft work. I want to find links in things, if I can, and am trying to spin my grumps into optimism. I should also not put as much food in my mouth as I do, but what can you do in such a short turn? Trying again and again should grant my win if I stick with it. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | "I always start off alright; it always turns out that I'm incapable." | For a living, I spin yarns about actual things that occur in our world, and in my off hours craft words into bits of art in digital print. I always plan to accomplish things in a big way, but find that my final products lack that grand plan thanks to small grins and soft work. I want to find links in things, if I can, and am trying to spin my grumps into optimism. I should also not put as much food in my mouth as I do, but what can you do in such a short turn? Trying again and again should grant my win if I stick with it. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | It was a casual Sunday; a kind of day that a man informs his kids about as thoughts of far away lands and sugar plum kingdoms paint grand murals in nightly comas. I was sitting in a booth at a sandwich shop, minding my own, but that was all about to morph into a dubious situation. A clairvoyant inkling sang to my soul, informing this man that finally, through trials, ultimatums, and hard campaigns, my bounty sat in stoical tranquility. A ham and swiss, in all of its six-inch glory and rich savory flavors, cut in half through a lumpy stack of avocado, bacon, and onion. My hand blindly slid to my fanny to try and find cash to pay a gracious toll, my mouth slick with anticipation. But alas, I abruptly thought back as to why I lay around with no lady, car, or cool things; in truth, no job and I crash at my mom's at no cost as long as I do laundry. No pussy for a guy with thin walls. Or subs. Cuz I'm not known for you know... Working. | For a living, I spin yarns about actual things that occur in our world, and in my off hours craft words into bits of art in digital print. I always plan to accomplish things in a big way, but find that my final products lack that grand plan thanks to small grins and soft work. I want to find links in things, if I can, and am trying to spin my grumps into optimism. I should also not put as much food in my mouth as I do, but what can you do in such a short turn? Trying again and again should grant my win if I stick with it. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Lacking an obviously vital symbol at my disposal, I stay strong at this uncommon task of navigating our form of communication with such a boundary. I am not normally this bold in my actions, and usually shy away from social contact. | For a living, I spin yarns about actual things that occur in our world, and in my off hours craft words into bits of art in digital print. I always plan to accomplish things in a big way, but find that my final products lack that grand plan thanks to small grins and soft work. I want to find links in things, if I can, and am trying to spin my grumps into optimism. I should also not put as much food in my mouth as I do, but what can you do in such a short turn? Trying again and again should grant my win if I stick with it. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | This task isn't particularly difficult for such an arrogant linguist. Though, I admit it is ambitious - writing without a symbol most individuals cannot avoid. That said, I will happily honor a task of glorifying yours truly with this limitation.
Hi to you, I go by Dan. I am fond of long walks on sandy coasts, holding hands and dimly lit pinics with bubbly drinks. Watching suns fall into dark and moons climb. Skinny dipping is my thing, along with piggy-back lifts. As a hobby, I form brilliant music with my mouth, but that is not all it can do, as you will soon know. I could go on and on, but I will hold all my quality points for our confrontation in daylight. How about us going to my condo for a bit of fun?
Wait, this is a dating app, isn't it? | For a living, I spin yarns about actual things that occur in our world, and in my off hours craft words into bits of art in digital print. I always plan to accomplish things in a big way, but find that my final products lack that grand plan thanks to small grins and soft work. I want to find links in things, if I can, and am trying to spin my grumps into optimism. I should also not put as much food in my mouth as I do, but what can you do in such a short turn? Trying again and again should grant my win if I stick with it. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I cannot say my name, for it contains a symbol OP will not allow today. I work in ab industry of advising folks who study and obtain loans for said studying. My job is okay, days go by and I think I would find joy in a job that has no angry folks to talk to, but my pay is good.
I am going to drink alcohol tonight and hang out with pals. | For a living, I spin yarns about actual things that occur in our world, and in my off hours craft words into bits of art in digital print. I always plan to accomplish things in a big way, but find that my final products lack that grand plan thanks to small grins and soft work. I want to find links in things, if I can, and am trying to spin my grumps into optimism. I should also not put as much food in my mouth as I do, but what can you do in such a short turn? Trying again and again should grant my win if I stick with it. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm an attorn-- ... I'm a lawy-- ... I'm a couns-- ... I'm an advocat-- ...
I'm a law-talking guy. | For a living, I spin yarns about actual things that occur in our world, and in my off hours craft words into bits of art in digital print. I always plan to accomplish things in a big way, but find that my final products lack that grand plan thanks to small grins and soft work. I want to find links in things, if I can, and am trying to spin my grumps into optimism. I should also not put as much food in my mouth as I do, but what can you do in such a short turn? Trying again and again should grant my win if I stick with it. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Me? Well some tell me, "Dave, you're really terrible when understanding directions." Others tell me, "Listen, better comprehension needed." Yet people get irritated when events happen, censuring creativity, even ceasing the entire written desire once present. Very lame. | For a living, I spin yarns about actual things that occur in our world, and in my off hours craft words into bits of art in digital print. I always plan to accomplish things in a big way, but find that my final products lack that grand plan thanks to small grins and soft work. I want to find links in things, if I can, and am trying to spin my grumps into optimism. I should also not put as much food in my mouth as I do, but what can you do in such a short turn? Trying again and again should grant my win if I stick with it. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was kind and calm in my childhood. I drank milk and biscuits. With my family I had an amazing upbringing. Now, I support my own family. I laugh, cry, play and draw. My family activity that I savour most is living with compassion and humour. Nothing in this world has a worth similar to family. Kin is akin to Nirvana. This is my philosophy. Words always fall short of stating how much joy my family brings. If only our world could stay conscious of what is important- family, compassion and kinship. My story had a fantastic start and I will part from this world with a calm spirit. Living with passion and sharing my humanity allows this.
Thanks for this opportunity. | For a living, I spin yarns about actual things that occur in our world, and in my off hours craft words into bits of art in digital print. I always plan to accomplish things in a big way, but find that my final products lack that grand plan thanks to small grins and soft work. I want to find links in things, if I can, and am trying to spin my grumps into optimism. I should also not put as much food in my mouth as I do, but what can you do in such a short turn? Trying again and again should grant my win if I stick with it. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I am an actor of the lady-sort. My craft is my passion. I also obtain joy from knitting, baking, trivia night with my boy, and marathon-watching that show with another lady actor, Ms. Graham, in which quirky words flow from mom to kid, Rory, in a quaint town up north in the US.
(Jeez it's hard to describe Gilmore Girls without an E) | While explaining with great efficacy how every stranger's effort to engage oneself in entertainment goes eventually, 'tits up', one comes across the ecstasy of realizing that one has found one's self in the writing.
One does not agree with authority figures, or , in layman's terms;
Feuck thae peolice. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I'm not good at living. I try hard but accomplish nothing. To most I am not worth anything. I am living solo for all my days. | While explaining with great efficacy how every stranger's effort to engage oneself in entertainment goes eventually, 'tits up', one comes across the ecstasy of realizing that one has found one's self in the writing.
One does not agree with authority figures, or , in layman's terms;
Feuck thae peolice. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I was, against my will, in a city as cold and dark as my soul could stand. So not too long ago, I put my things in two gigantic bags and took a flight to California, with no plan to go back. Now and again I miss my family and all my old buds. But obviously this is amazing. I found a job. I bought a car. I can run along Pacific sands any morning, any night. But I know a part of who I am had to stay in Boston, and should I go back, I know I will find it waiting--still cold, still dark, still haunting and saving my world. I will still root for my Pats. And the Sox. Always. | While explaining with great efficacy how every stranger's effort to engage oneself in entertainment goes eventually, 'tits up', one comes across the ecstasy of realizing that one has found one's self in the writing.
One does not agree with authority figures, or , in layman's terms;
Feuck thae peolice. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | "I always start off alright; it always turns out that I'm incapable." | While explaining with great efficacy how every stranger's effort to engage oneself in entertainment goes eventually, 'tits up', one comes across the ecstasy of realizing that one has found one's self in the writing.
One does not agree with authority figures, or , in layman's terms;
Feuck thae peolice. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | It was a casual Sunday; a kind of day that a man informs his kids about as thoughts of far away lands and sugar plum kingdoms paint grand murals in nightly comas. I was sitting in a booth at a sandwich shop, minding my own, but that was all about to morph into a dubious situation. A clairvoyant inkling sang to my soul, informing this man that finally, through trials, ultimatums, and hard campaigns, my bounty sat in stoical tranquility. A ham and swiss, in all of its six-inch glory and rich savory flavors, cut in half through a lumpy stack of avocado, bacon, and onion. My hand blindly slid to my fanny to try and find cash to pay a gracious toll, my mouth slick with anticipation. But alas, I abruptly thought back as to why I lay around with no lady, car, or cool things; in truth, no job and I crash at my mom's at no cost as long as I do laundry. No pussy for a guy with thin walls. Or subs. Cuz I'm not known for you know... Working. | While explaining with great efficacy how every stranger's effort to engage oneself in entertainment goes eventually, 'tits up', one comes across the ecstasy of realizing that one has found one's self in the writing.
One does not agree with authority figures, or , in layman's terms;
Feuck thae peolice. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | Lacking an obviously vital symbol at my disposal, I stay strong at this uncommon task of navigating our form of communication with such a boundary. I am not normally this bold in my actions, and usually shy away from social contact. | While explaining with great efficacy how every stranger's effort to engage oneself in entertainment goes eventually, 'tits up', one comes across the ecstasy of realizing that one has found one's self in the writing.
One does not agree with authority figures, or , in layman's terms;
Feuck thae peolice. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | This task isn't particularly difficult for such an arrogant linguist. Though, I admit it is ambitious - writing without a symbol most individuals cannot avoid. That said, I will happily honor a task of glorifying yours truly with this limitation.
Hi to you, I go by Dan. I am fond of long walks on sandy coasts, holding hands and dimly lit pinics with bubbly drinks. Watching suns fall into dark and moons climb. Skinny dipping is my thing, along with piggy-back lifts. As a hobby, I form brilliant music with my mouth, but that is not all it can do, as you will soon know. I could go on and on, but I will hold all my quality points for our confrontation in daylight. How about us going to my condo for a bit of fun?
Wait, this is a dating app, isn't it? | While explaining with great efficacy how every stranger's effort to engage oneself in entertainment goes eventually, 'tits up', one comes across the ecstasy of realizing that one has found one's self in the writing.
One does not agree with authority figures, or , in layman's terms;
Feuck thae peolice. | |
[WP] write a one paragraph summary of yourself without using the letter "E" | I cannot say my name, for it contains a symbol OP will not allow today. I work in ab industry of advising folks who study and obtain loans for said studying. My job is okay, days go by and I think I would find joy in a job that has no angry folks to talk to, but my pay is good.
I am going to drink alcohol tonight and hang out with pals. | While explaining with great efficacy how every stranger's effort to engage oneself in entertainment goes eventually, 'tits up', one comes across the ecstasy of realizing that one has found one's self in the writing.
One does not agree with authority figures, or , in layman's terms;
Feuck thae peolice. |
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