Industrial

sorry i havnt been around that much i been goin thoug tough times amnd shit. I kinda lost my intrest in writing, its whatever though because ima try and do more feedback and stories again. thanks for taking the time to read this i hope you enjoy it.



F is For Fog.

Even when it’s dark, the light still seems to flood past my tattered red blinds that I long ago glued to my window. The light seems to flow freely, uncontested, down over my windowsill, and next it trickles down to my dull gray carpet. Shortly thereafter puddles are formed, and soon streams take shape and carry away my ambition and pride with the many currents. The streams gather, and before my very eyes massive oceans are crashing and battling before my eyes.

I just sit stagnant on my bed, and secretly look from my tattered blinds upon a flooded wasteland.

Everyone’s always in a god dammed hurry, kinda like they have a big foot up there ass or some shit. Eventually they’ll all be exhausted; gradually drowning.

“Personally I rather not go swimming; drowning is already slow enough for me, thank you very much.”

When I was young I would wake up before anyone else. I used to silently sneak past slumbering heads and illicit secrets. I inched down twisting ways that led my mind through impressionable days. At the end of my journey I would sit and look out of my tattered red blinds.

Once when I was five, I saw the faint outline of a jail behind my house, it was blanketed in a thick fog:

For the first time my young eyes were ready to lift up the tattered red blinds and take my first steps towards was tangible hope. It was still only a matter of time until the light came crashing over the building like some sort of giant waterfall, content to continue laboriously with its stupid task like some beast of burden.

I almost suffocated that day had it not been for my tattered red blinds.

It was not always like this, I used to have a wife, and a job. That was before I strolled down the killing fields of Cambodia. That was before I killed an entire family while they were sleeping; chopped them up into little bits and pieces.

That was before I knew what light could do to a man.

Take Johnny for example:

Johnny let the sun beat down upon his face, and as he walked his short attention span got the better of him, and he drove himself insane.

Johnny is a god.

Without Johnny existing god would not exist.

Without Johnny everything would cease to exist to him.

Johnny had an epiphany you could say.


He spoke to himself:

“And Johnny said, let there be fog: and there was fog. And the fog hid the evil from earth so that people might hope, and Johnny saw the fog; and saw that it was good.”

Johnny thought what he said was hilarious.

Johnny was still laughing hysterically as his outline became part of the rolling fog. Johnny was never seen again, he lost himself in the fog; I did also.

I think we should all get lost more often; in fact I hear getting lost once a day, keeps the doctor away.

But honestly that’s bullshit the doctors never leave you alone. You have to be healthy; you have to possess a perfect smile.

Don’t ask why these things are simply mandatory.

Lately I’m just trying to stay positive; it’s harder then you think when you can only see the evil in people.

The light sure doesn’t help.

I think what the world really needs right now is more fog, then we can all be positive productive people.

Just like what they really want.

-fin.

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my reach is global
my cause is noble.

phurst

Even when it’s dark, the light still seems to flood past my tattered red blinds that I long ago glued to my window. The light seems to flow freely, uncontested, down over my windowsill, and next it trickles down to my dull gray carpet. Shortly thereafter puddles are formed, and soon streams take shape and carry away my ambition and pride with the many currents. The streams gather, and before my very eyes massive oceans are crashing and battling before my eyes.-The first sentance is so contrdictory that it loses me. If you have tattered blinds and it's dark, where is the light coming from? Puddles? Of what? The whole thing is a bit beyond me and reads more like a poem than the beginning of a story. If there is a similie there, I missed it.

By the thirsd line, I'm still lost as you talk about drowning and swimming and peole in a hurry becasue of "a foot up their ass". I think the similie is incomplete. Maybe 'Hurrying because someone has threateded to put a foot up their ass."

I quit reading at te third mention of tattered red blinds. This is more a poemish thing that takes me nowhere, cause i'm lost at the start and you never bring me out. I just don't get it. Sorry.

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Industrial

First of all thank you very much for taking the time to read this.

It's not a simile its a extended metaphor, both light and fog are not literally representative of light and fog. With that said, I think it would make more sense that light can be appearing when its dark.

I don't really feel like sitting down and explaining what I was trying to say, take it for what it is or not.I write really abstract stuff, I guess its hard to get into for some people, but honestly I write for my enjoyment and to express feeling and moods.

Even with that I was kind of experimenting with this story, I really see what I want to do with it later on though.

Thanks for your reply and taking the time to read it, I really appreciate your efforts, even if you it was not quite your taste.

__________________
my reach is global
my cause is noble.

phurst

Writing for yourself is a nobel task and abstract writing is fine also but hard to connect with an audience. I wish you luck or continued enjoyment. I think you'll do fine.

__________________
Any questions? PM me because I may not return to your post again.

Do your part, find a 0 reply post and help them out.

I am what I am and you made me that way.