Tag Archives: free writing

Escapade bursts

Been having more nightmares recently. The types that linger even though you’re dog tired daily and forget important details of your everyday waking life regularly.

1) He was taping girls, 2 of which were literally doll sized. 1 was a young adult. They started spilling vomit from their vaginas after he was finished and we went down on them. The older lady tried to push him away, shocked and repulsed but he pushed on. She eventually gave in and engaged in the fellatio as well. 

2) I will update this when I remember. A little woozy right now

3) I have been telling myself that I deserve to be treated wonderfully by my future partner. Went to bed with drowsy fever medicine during the afternoon. 

I told my friend that I deserve to be treated well. He leaned over, hand on the back of my neck to pull me in to kiss me. I pushed him away. He told me, “For someone who has so many criterias, you should have lower standards.”

Advertisements
Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

Mind state.

Desperate for love

Dejection from rejection

Agony from disdain

Sadness with solitude.

People pleasing, pleasure pursuit.

Addiction and impulsiveness.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Reaction

joji’s you suck charlie

swirling grey matter
drippings of glittery galaxies
sharp sweet shrapnel in each breath

shooting pains from between her tips
crackled brushes from those lips
staring down needles full of rust and iron

beautiful entitled whine
bloated cheeks and liver
spotted mottled jaws

 

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

Before and Now

Things are louder now.

Brighter. 

My ears hurt more; winces are common and confrontations make me curl up.

But the head is occasionally quiet, the screaming at the back no longer around. She must have moved on.

Back then, the emotions are greater, stronger, filling me up like nuclear explosions. Toxic yet captivating. It’s muted now.

Back then I felt more, touched more, connected and fell more. Believed more. There’s the cynic now, squinting away at the brightness of the present.

It was an explosion back then, loud and always expanding, never ending reaches and I felt reckless with how far my emotions spread. Now I see the barriers, I feel the control and the careful, logical constrains. 

Respond, not react.

But am I still me?

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

Escapade Р11th October 

My mom was angry, furious at me and in spite, I picked up the handgun, pointed it at my stomach upside down, and pulled. 

No recoil no heat, just pain. A very bad cramp, seeping blood that doesn’t drip. I felt the bullet within my stomach, pulling my centre of gravity towards it so my soul and mind and fear were buried in its middle.

M made his appearance again, offering to send me to the hospital. I get in the cab with him, the bullet now lodged deep like an unborn child, haunting my future. We switched cars, why? But the next driver was a policeman and I was scared to mentioned I shot myself with a gun, yet he waved it off with embarrassment, as though mentioning my use of a gun to hurt myself was shameful to talk about.

I lean on M’s shoulder, seeking comfort and love, and he leans his head upon mine. Home. Peace. Huge wrench of pain and doubled over.

Back to a house, everyone there. My mother was angry and not sympathetic.

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Cracked

Expulsion.

Dripping, pouring, exposed, leaking.

Dry, rough, ashy, cracked, tears and rips, lines and drags, pulling tight and wrapped.

Expand, pain, screams in my mind, deafening, clench and twisted cramp, twitch twitch.

Spark of anxiety, nausea, nerves, stiffen, swallow, restricted pipes. 

Grey fog slick, thin clogging layer, smog, clouded, broken veins, loose powders, sharp sting of young grapes, quick pumps pit pattering.

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

Anxiety 

Jumping between sweet nostalgia and fear lumping in the throat. Panic at the thought of meeting up and connecting, talking and sharing, fear and inability to breathe, constricted throat, wife awake tight lungs.

Sadness, salty singular drops down one cheek and tiny cold winds spreading across the chest before they’re sacked back in or blown away

by the suffocating paralysing fear of connecting and communicating and potentially reconnecting. 

Hunched shoulders making the body small tiny invulnerable protected and hidden 

The fear is big and swallowing me whole starting from the blocked throat tempting me to drag in deep puffs of oxygen and revive the cruel paradox of survival instincts, reaching throughout my belly and soles leaving them knotted and cold, that chill that can not be touched between the layer of atoms preventing us from truly touching anything, forever apart and forbidden true contact with everything for all we feel is the repelling of atoms against ours so the love and touch we draw our comfort from is false. A lie. We are only feeling their repulsion their rejection.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Escapade

My family is running, we’re all running. It started out nice and slow, taking shifts as waitresses, my sister and I. Then waking at midnight after my sister’s night shift, hearing her get ready to leave the house. She wanted to listen to my mom read stories to some children. I rush to get dressed and follow.

I don’t fully remember what happens here, but I know whistling was involved and being chased by this one person. Creature actually, chasing us, wanting to kill us, eat us. It got caught. But right when we were safe, turns out it could switch bodies and we were attacked by another from the crowd. Chains, swinging police, metal leash, swinging from the ceiling, huge date rape drug, sex before it is sentenced to death.

I’m running. Find two others, they’re my family now. We’re safe. And then he decides to fucking whistle, fuck dammit and now we run, Sprint through the mall and there’s 2 of then now chasing after us, blood thirsty, blood lust. My family, again. Gone.

Run into a house, my relatives, huge huge family. I tell them to keep quiet, hide, lower ourselves. There’s 3 of them outside, trying to get in. Never whistle. Don’t even make a sound. Door locked. Gate outside locked, they don’t seem to be coming in. We start to relax, my family fights. So loud, shouting, the kind of anger that sears your throat, you go mute from anger before a torrent of fire pours out. My cousin walks through the door with some friends. They opened the door. The creatures come forward and we scream, scramble for the small storage room. Press against the door lock it, I’m there with my uncle pressing against the door. Crying, “I’ve never had my family last longer than 24 hours.” He looks at me and says that it’ll be different this time. The young ones decide to throw pens and brushes on the floor at the door, trying to slip the creatures up. They pour blue water out under the door, hoping to drown them, deter them. Blue water seeps back in from the top, “STOP!” but it’s too late, the door bends at the force of outside waters trying to flood in. Like a plastic tarp, why is the door like a plastic tarp nothing is helping we can’t keep the water out and Woosh. Our room is moving. Moving out the house. Landing on the road outside the house. A plastic room. The creatures advance we run next door begging for access.

They said yes. Gorgeous mansion. That was too easy. But we need to run. We run in.

I run up the stairs. So many levels but I keep running my friend following behind. Try to hide in a huge grandfather clock just like in the stories hide in there, try to push the clockwork manually so they won’t suspect.

“What are you doing?”
It’s him. I’m clearly not even fitting. Butt in, body contorted, door still wide open. Sigh. I tried.
We walk to the railings and look down over the ground floor of the mansion. We talk, he asks why I’ve been running, I said I wanted my family alive, I wanted to keep them all alive. We laugh and joke and he teases and smiles. My friend comes over and she jokes and laughs, leaning on the railings.

You shouldn’t lean like that, it’s not safe.
It’s alright.
He looks at her. And smiles. He flips her over the railing and she falls to the ground floor.

Creatures are everywhere tearing apart my family. There’s yellow liquids running down their legs. Urine, I’m told. One creature is wiping the yellow off its feet, with a swaddled infant. He casually tosses the baby aside after he is done. I’m there, looking, and one of the creatures, the older matronly figure, gives me a white bar. Have this instead. It’s coconut and some other gelatinous matter. Two of them look at it and each other, before staring curiously at me at the matronly creature.

Sitting at a glorious dining table, all creatures seated around, talking, having tea. “He likes you. Lord _______.” I recall him almost putting a baby hamster in his mouth, and seeing my face, he puts it away. The crunch is almost similar to that of the coconut in the bar.

Tagged , , ,
%d bloggers like this: