Number Three: Forgetting.

This is a recent story I wrote about a person who has gone through a traumatizing experience and physically survived it, but not mentally. He is trying to forget what happened by avoiding anything emotional-resulting in a tedious, daily routine that leaves him utterly dehumanized.

"The alarm goes off. The coffee maker begins brewing. I hear the whack of the newspaper hitting my front door. These are the noises that begin my day. They help me wake up, turn myself on. They are what remind me to do a raincheck on my emotions, and then quickly shut them away so I don't have to feel.

I don't know how long this has been going on. I can't remember-- nor do I know what I can do to stop it. I understand that most things are spontaneous, that everything happens for a reason, eventually coming together to form one big picture that somehow explains the meaning of life. But I think I'm the exception.

6:55 a.m.

I shut the alarm off and sit up in bed, swinging my legs out to the left and letting my feet search for my slippers. I then go to the bathroom, six and a half steps away, and brush my teeth. I brush each tooth for twenty seconds, counting them out slowly in my head. One crocodile, two crocodile...

7:07 a.m.

I am downstairs in the kitchen. My coffee is just around boiling, and I pour a tablespoon of milk in to cool it down. I blow. I sip..."

What stories have you made up today?

Thanks for reading!

Mr. Keats

John Keats is pretty much A to the mazing!! I was a fan of him before, but then I read this...



"Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art--

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night

And watching, with eternal lids apart,

Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,

The moving waters at their priestlike task

Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,

Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--

No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,

Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,

Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

And so live ever--or else swoon to death."

~John Keats



*sigh* Love it.



What's your favorite poem/poet?

Happy Independence Day.

Today I'll be enjoying some homemade apple pie and fireworks with the family (yum!). I hope you all have a fun holiday!

p.s. Please enjoy this video by Balloonshop. They bring unimaginable amounts of joy to my average life with their hilarious videos.

MURDER! (insert cackle)

My favorite author of all-time would have to be Agatha Christie. I've been a fan of her for a loong time, and I don't think there's a single one of her books that I haven't read! A few of my favorites (there are a lot) are: And Then There Were None, The ABC Murders, The Secret Adversary, and A Pocket Full of Rye.

They were written kinda far apart- from early 1920's to early 50's- which only shows how long of a writing career Christie had. I find her success inspiring :)

Oh! I just remembered another one of my favorites: Death Comes As the End. I haven't read this one in a while, but it was really really good! I'll have to go check it out from the library and read it again!

What's your favorite murder mystery?

Thanks for reading,

~Becca