What is going on here?

I don’t write a lot.

Or more accurately, I write a lot, just mostly at odd times, in strange formats that I then forget to post to this blog. I write more in the summer than in the school year, but just like most varieties of hot peppers, my yield becomes more potent when I have been under stress.

So every now and then I will post something from my brain here, on the internet, just to see what will happen. Please enjoy, and feel free to give me advice, criticism, or your opion if you wish.

Hunger

Sandwiches, in my opinion, are the perfect food. They are unnecessarily extravagant to anyone but the modern humans; as they are the combination of lang hours spent gathering wheat, grinding flour, and baking bread; killing and roasting meat; collecting fresh milk and turning it into cheese over several months; planting, growing, and then harvesting vegetables like lettuce and tomatoes; and then collecting a variety of herbs, spices, fats and vinegars all together  into a variety of sauces all for something that can be wolfed down in a half-hearted school or office lunch break.

Sometimes, though, you just want to feed something a little more feral.

Here’s Hunger.

Cabin Fever

Apparently I wrote this. Over the summer? I honestly barely remember it. I remember trying to write it. But it’s good?

Call it a glitch in the matrix.

Here’s Cabin Fever.

Taking Care of Yourself

I like to imagine, that in the wider multiverse, there is a universe just to the left of my own. A place so similar that every breath is tinged with the familiar yet so  different as to be practically unimaginable. The vast majority of my stories take place there.

I also like to write stories to capture an indescribable emotion. Just to describe it in an impossible event, pull out the strings of its influence and attempt to bottle my own moments. I suppose it helps.

I also like pandan flavored snack cakes. Have you ever had a pandan flavoured snack cake. reader?

They’re good.

Here’s Taking Care of Yourself.

Note: An explanation for the complete lack of writings in the last few months. I have been writing but it’s been…jumbled. And all non-essential tasks have been put off because I just started college. Enjoy the story.

There Will Be No Dawn

I listened to the soundtrack from Hamilton the day that I wrote this. And then I was sad. And the sad just gurgled up through my system into this. What would you do on the last day? After all, it would be a day, just like any other.

I’m doing really great, actually. Something about graduating from high school gives you a glimpse of all kinds of endings, and that’s been something I’ve been wanting to put in a story for a while.

Here’s There Will Be No Dawn.

Another Excerpt From Go To Hell

I’m sorry, but I lied to you.

Go To Hell will never be funny.

However, it will be a book, and it might even be good. I’m doing Camp NaNoWriMo this July, and I’m expanding and fleshing out Go To Hell. I wrote this section and immediately thought that this was a book that deserved to be written. Which is good, because I’ve nearly abandoned this story so many times because I couldn’t quite figure out what to write about in its vast world.

So, those two parts of Go To Hell that were posted on my blog here were two thirds of the perspectives on the story, and are being edited, rearranged, and fleshed out. Here’s something completely different in the same universe, which will be about a third of the book.

If you love Go To Hell, I might try to self-publish it in a way that makes it as easy as possible for me to distribute books to readers. If you hate Go To Hell, that will still happen, but you’ll only be seeing excerpts from it one more time on my blog, so, just deal with it.

Here’s Go To Hell Excerpts, Chapter 2.

I Never Liked Ghost Stories

I have plenty of legitimate reasons for not liking ghost stories. I’m an introvert, and things like roller coasters and hot sauce used to just be too much stimulus for me to handle. But now I love spicy food, and I’m going to Six Flags with my cousin this summer, so that’s not it. I have an overactive imagination. Give me a scary premise and I’ll be seeing things out of the corners of my eyes in less than an hour. But that’s not it, I crave ideas. I stay up too late all the time, and I love the ideas behind horror, I can deal with the rush of fear.

No, I don’t think it’s any of those things. I think it’s because of my ghost, the one that follows me around to family events and through old school pictures, the face I’ve half escaped from, the skin that never fit on me. There’s a whispered she and a tremble of misunderstanding when I am properly introduced, and my ghost is there in full masqurade if I feel forced to save your feelings.

No, the reason I don’t like ghost stories is because I’m already living in one.

Here’s I Never Liked Ghost Stories.

Trying, or Living in a Black Hole

The big eat the small. Gravity can consume solar systems, even whole galaxies. Big fish eat little fish. And a horrible thing in your past can fling you into the void, forcing your life off track. People with these big, horrible holes inside them can eat up everything in their path and just end up hungrier. It make me think about the kind of creatures that could live in a black hole.

Or maybe I’m just hungry. I could really go for some good tomato soup right now.

Here’s Trying.

A Facination

Do you ever think about death, hypothetical reader? Like, really think about how one day, your body will decay, and taking care of it will no longer be your responsibility, and you won’t have access to its functions and comforts anymore, like moving out of an old house? One day, you, you personally, will know what happens when you die. We don’t get many answers in life about meaning and purpose. There are so many mysteries inherent to humans, and so many things that e just have to accept never really knowing the answers to. But death is not one of those things.

And in a way, that’s beautiful and exciting.

(And if you want to read some actual expert opinions about death positivity check out http://www.orderofthegooddeath.com/)

Here’s A Fascination.

Paragraph Poetry

Can one paragraph, containing only a single idea, written in full, grammatically correct sentences, be poetry?  Is it worthwhile? Can it be good poetry? Is this a new idea? It probably isn’t, so why hasn’t it worked in the past, and do I honestly think I can overcome those same problems and create poetry that resonates with readers?

Hell if I know, but I wrote a bunch of poems again.

Here is a collection of Paragraph Poetry.