The Realisation

Second

Wed, 27 Apr 2011 19:58:28 +0100

She says we are friends

That we should share

But when the times comes

She’s never there

What's the point?

Sun, 13 Feb 2011 18:37:49 +0000

Everything is still shit and I still feel like a waste. Save me from this country of obscurity.

The Shapeshifter

Fri, 28 Jan 2011 16:36:29 +0000

This morning, I showed the train pass to the gentleman at the desk and he displayed a smile as he recognised my face. Grace Victor, the blonde-haired student of fine art. Painting portraits and moulding clay are the ways she would spend her morning.

At lunchtime, I showed the hotel receptionist the reservation confirmation and he nodded her head as he handed over the key. Heather Langford, the red-headed businesswoman of Merge Corporations. Fancy meals and secret affairs with married men are her midday routines.

In the afternoon, I showed the permission slip to the school teacher and she greeted me as the children left the classroom. Sarah Thames, the brown-haired mother of Jessica Thames. Looking after her children and cleaning their home is how she spends her afternoon.

In the evening, I showed the nurse the letter from my granddaughter and she looked happy as she took in the words. Gloria Smith, the grey-haired grandmother of five. Relaxing in the lounge and reminiscing about the past makes up her evening.

In reality, I read the report the doctor mislaid and frown as I read the hurtful words. Francine Goldberg, the black-haired schizophrenic patient of Hayfield Mental Facility. In a world of grand dreams and complex delusions is where I spend my life.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE INANIMATE OBJECT?

Tue, 25 Jan 2011 21:41:11 +0000

The human brain. So complex and vital.

Flash Fiction 365

Tue, 25 Jan 2011 21:17:00 +0000

Flash Fiction 365 :

Basically, you can submit short stories or poetry daily, based on the prompt given.

Fade In/Fade Out

Fri, 21 Jan 2011 18:42:00 +0000

She’s shallow, she’s vain and plastic outside;
Like a sheep she follows with no esteem.
With trends and with fame she wants to be seen.

She’s cruel, she’s mean and hollow inside.
Like a mirror she copies, to keep them keen.
She’s shallow, she’s vain and refuses to dream.
Conformity is her name and she will abide.

I’m complex, I’m strange and abstract outside;
Like a coverless book what do I mean?
With truth and with brains I remain unseen.

I’m kind, I’m good and caring inside.
Like a mouse I sneak in, not to intervene.
I’m complex, I’m strange - an original being.
Individual’s my name and I will not hide.

Photo

Fri, 21 Jan 2011 18:34:35 +0000