Tag Archives: Creative Writing

Fast Forward

18 Apr

Fast forward is the speed I am most accustomed.

You see, I am terrified.

Terrified of what I’ll miss, what I’ll leave behind.

So, I rush.

I go.

I run.

I flee.

As fast as I possibly can, I navigate through this little thing we all call “life”.

Without hesitation, I leap.

I dodge.

I dash.

I absolutely must find the quickest, most efficient way from Point A to Point B.

Stop and smell the flowers, you say?

Nah.

Those flowers are surely a waste of time.

Sure, I am certain they will undoubtedly amuse me with their ever so intoxicating scent. Their dazzling colors a welcomed distraction from a lifelong race.

But If you even think of actually stopping to experience them, I will leave you standing there alone in that pasture.

You see, I have to go.

I’ve already wasted so much time.

I am convinced I am missing something.

I just wish I knew what it was I was missing.

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Your Words, Your Melodies

11 May

You and I go way back.

As far as I can remember, you’ve been there right smack-dab next to me.

On my first day of school, you were there to cheer me up when I was just a scared and timid little boy.

As the summertime breeze blew through that window of that old station wagon my mother drove, you were there filling the air with your words, your melodies.

It was you that soothed my soul as I sat and watched a frail 50-year-old man become one with the earth and make his peace with god.

You were the shoulder I cried on when the 17-year-old version of myself was convinced he would never love again.

It was your touch, your lyric that kept that 10-year-old boy and 8-year-old girl safe and happy as they waited patiently for their mother to return home from diligently working triple shift after triple shift to provide for her own.

It was you that stood by me as I watched my own two children come into this world.

It was your skill, your precision that all but single-handedly pulled me out of that hospital bed a year ago.

Never wavering, you’ve stood by my side through the toughest of times.

You have always been that light at the end of the tunnel.

You have always been the life of every party.

Always a conundrum and forever a walking, talking contradiction, you were always the most popular, yet one of the most nomadic of outcasts.

I’ve cursed you. I’ve praised you. I’ve loved you. And I’ve hated you.

I’ve abandoned you for months on end, but that never once bothered you or made you feel anything less for me.

You can bring me to tears with a single word. You and only you can put a smile on my face and change my whole outlook on life.

Our love affair has been passionate to say the least. But one thing is for certain. I will always have you and you will always have me. I couldn’t get rid of you if I tried. You wouldn’t let me. And for that, I will always be thankful.

So, take a bow. You deserve all the recognition you can get.

Thank you for always being there, Music. Without you, I wouldn’t have made it this far.

The Storm Within

17 Apr

As I lay here in this empty bed, I listen to the thunder roll in from the west. With each crash and boom that resonates through my eardrums, I realize something insanely profound. As the pain and nausea sets in, this epiphany, this harsh reality, hits me hard like a sucker punch to the gut from an unknown opponent.

The thing is, I should have known this all along. This truth shouldn’t have come as a surprise in any way.

But it did. It took me completely off guard.

And as each flash of lightning illuminates this cold, dark room, my newfound sense of reality finally starts to set in.

I am a storm.

From a distance, you can appreciate and even love a storm. You can marvel at its raw power and beauty. A storm, will mesmerize you and lull you into a false sense of comfort.

I am a storm.

Most of the times, you will make it through a storm unscathed with little more than a few drops of water dripping down your face. But sooner or later, unapologetically and without warning, a storm you’ve seen a million times will turn on you in an instant. Suddenly, you are left wondering what hit you and what you are supposed to do next.

You see, I am a storm. You can only love a storm until it actually does damage to you. Like the best storms often do, I will ruin and destroy. And because of that, you cannot love a storm. Even the most seemingly harmless of storms are unlovable.

I am, without a doubt, a storm.

And as most experts say, you do not get close to a storm. It’s always in your best interest to just admire it from afar.

Katie Graduates

4 Apr

Life always come full circle. I know this. I’ve seen it with my very own eyes.

What am I talking like Yoda all the sudden?

Simple.

This last weekend, I had the honor of photographing my high school English teacher’s daughter for her senior portraits. Yes. You read that correctly. I am now that old.

I had a blast photographing Katie and reconnecting with her mother. Her mother, has always been a huge inspiration to me. Whether she wants to be associated with the credit of teaching me the fundamentals of writing or not, she was the one who pushed me to write even when my writing was the absolute shittiest it has ever been. And to this day, I couldn’t even begin to thank her enough.

Anyway, come take a look at what Katie and I got into at Hodge Park in the good old Liberty, Missouri.

Click HERE for Facebook

Click HERE for Flickr

The Envy of Toes

31 Mar

With each and every step, I feel the cold concrete seep through the rubber soles of my weathered Converse. My toes, numb from winter’s last ditch effort to retard spring’s progress, seem to mock the rest of my body. My limbs and core can still feel the pain, the cold from the years that have passed. But not my toes. They are lucky. They have been deadened. They no longer have to suffer. They no longer have to feel.

Weaving, maneuvering these crowded streets, my eyes glance up with hopes of discovering a friendly face, a smile or two to concentrate on. But these hopes, these internal wishes are quickly dashed. No smiles, no winks, no simple “hellos”.

Not today at least.

And that’s when it hit me. In a city of nearly 9 million people, I am completely alone.

I can see people’s faces. I can hear their voices. I can even feel their laughter reverberate through me as they joke amongst their friends at the table next to me. But I just sit and observe like I am window shopping for things I cannot afford.

As I curl up to this bar and ask the bartender for another drink, I glance down at my feet that swing beneath me from atop of my perch of this old wooden barstool. My toes, still numb, do not care that they are alone. They do not care because they do not feel a thing.

In this very moment, I envy them. You see, my toes are lucky. I wish I could have what they have. I covet their virtual paralysis.

And As I finish this next drink, I hope the rest of my body will catch up. I want to feel numb. I want to feel nothing but the cold.

Because today, I am jealous of my toes. They do not feel alone. They just do not care. And for once, just for today, I want to feel the same.

The Awakening

24 Feb

I don’t think you quite understand.

You are, in fact, poking a sleeping bear.

And not one of those cute and cuddly type of bears that make you scream out “ooh” and “aah” either.

No, not even close.

You see, I am one of those rabid, hungry, and overly aggressive bears. The kind that when simply crossed, will maul without the slightest of warning.

You wouldn’t know it from the looks of me. Hell, most people will never see this side of me at all. But you’ve been poking and prodding for a long while now. And it’s time that you see the size of my teeth. It’s time you feel the pinch of your very own flesh underneath the pressure of my jaw.

You’ve been tiptoeing around for too long now, chucking rocks from afar so as to not awaken me. You select your targets at will, without regard for anything but yourself. In the past,  I have just sat back, gritted my teeth, and watched you play these childish games. On occasion, I would let out a yawn out of pure disinterest.

But lately, your aim has been off.

And now one of your pathetic stones has gone astray.

You have the impression that I don’t know what’s going on. You think that I haven’t got a clue.

But I assure you, I do.

You’ve targeted the very single thing that is most important to a bear. Something so precious and so very sacred. Something that I will not only fight, but win the bloodiest of battles for.

My family.

Your games, your manipulations, and your outright lies have sparked and fueled a rage so intense, there will be no warning, no more pleasantries.

So, here I am.

I’m awake. I’m alert. But most importantly, I am pissed.

I suggest you prepare yourself for what’s to come.

 

Betrayal

21 Feb

Well, it’s week two of the IndieInk Writing Challenge and I have to say, things are about to get all kinds of crazy up in here. We’ve expanded the challenge to not only include our own lovely editors, but we also opened up the challenge to the internets.

So, what does this all mean?

Simple.

We have some of the best writers around challenging each other from across the world-wide webs to weekly writing duels. If last week was a geeky writer’s version of You Got Served, then this week has to be more on the level of The Fast and the Furious. Well, without Vin Diesel. And without cars. And without…aw, fuck it. It’s nothing like The Fast and the Furious. I give up.

Anyway, this week’s challenge comes to me from San Diego Momma (@SanDiegoMomma on the Twitter machine). I love her challenge because it’s just a single word. I totally appreciate and admire this dark and twisted word in so many ways.

“Betrayal”

With that said, this word also scares the shit out of me. Don’t get me wrong, I love that one word can take me down so many different paths. But my tiny brain is a flurry with memories, thoughts, and ideas based on just this single eight letter noun. This is definitely going to be a tough one. I guess that’s why it’s called a challenge, huh?

****

The look in her eyes that night will forever be seared into my soul. As each tear streamed down her cheeks, they amplified every single emotion you could ever imagine as they danced their way past her nose and trickled slowly onto the pillow that cradled her weary head.

This time, her tears were because of me. A direct result of the words that struggled past my tongue just moments before. Even though we were inches from each other in the same bed, we were miles apart in our minds.

This time, an explanation of the thoughts rolling around in her mind would not be necessary.

This time, there would be no guessing, no map or key.

This time, I knew.

I could read the hurt, the shock, and the blatant betrayal written on her face as if someone had tattooed those very words in large black letters across her pale skin.

Then again, I knew the tattoo artist all too well.

As painful as the silence was, nothing could have prepared me for the words she spoke next.

“I would have never expected this from you. Not in a million years.”

Her words were delivered with such a softness that you’d never expect just how heavy, how razor sharp they actually were.

But she was right.

Nobody in their right mind would have expected anything like this out of me.

Not her.

Not me.

Not a soul.

As dawn neared, I knew things would never be the same. Life would go on, but not in the capacity we both had become so accustomed to.

You see, with a few words I changed everything.

My failure was out in the open.

And with just a few words, my betrayal was hers to live.

 

 

 

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