Shrieks into the Void

Earth Day 254 Log Entry: Today the group agreed to watch movies after the chores were done. We found an old copy of The Room on board—no one knows who brought it. It’s a terrible movie, in case you were wondering. Whoever you are, don’t watch the room. Actually, watch it with people, with friends. Then it’s worth it. We re-rationed the food again as well. It turns out Whittleman had been stockpiling for himself. As most of us agreed this made no sense at all, he moved to the top of the list. Out of 25, I’m still fairly low. That’s probably a good thing, however if you look at it a different way it’s the worst place to be. At least if you’re first people will be humane. We’re all trained doctors here, we know how to do it right. The committee on reproduction also met again. It has been decided that we’re not ready for offspring yet, but we will be soon. The only problem is we don’t have enough food to care for another person let alone a mother and a child. It wouldn’t be s...

six days and counting  Waiting. We’re just waiting. Something? Not this. Anything? Still not this. Railroad tracks surround my house but no train comes to collect this tired heap. Wanted a break? Not this. The list goes on and on and on yet the— break. It’s a break I tell you, a break! NOT THIS. Lost days lost hours lost time Lost floating still swimming the water will fill buckets  too heavy to carry. too heavy not. this.

long enough now long enough that i can feel your hair against my chest bruised fingers intertwined delicate souls locked in a dance of  old and burned  and lost and found again and again. I can’t leave just yet, not just yet my dear. only the tides know how long I should stay how long how long how long  Until the fates snip their cord that runs the length of my entire body, veins and arteries and the holy ghost Singing in harmony Chords that ring through blue-ish minds played with ease on white and black keys melodies that carry knives  that kill one but not the other. And my dear I’m sorry that other has to be you We can be other together, but not this time. Not this time. I don’t know how much longer until the  cracks turn to shards I don’t want to feel the ice and the fire  again  not because of you this time not because of you.

Past has faded into fog only a shimmering memory at this point. Clouded by darker times darker lives— Faceless figures following footsteps louder and louder from youth and into oblivion. Do I miss you? maybe maybe i do But I would not know either way Love, it’s been so long much too long Not long enough for the concrete to settle  into the cracks of thirteen fourteen eight seven six five First day first time first for everything You had to be the first one there and gone again— Wait for me i’ll come back But you’re different now. I can’t recognize your face through the smoke. Through the ashes of the bridges burned, you and her in a fiery blaze leaving  me behind…  No more words to be spoken yet so much said by lack thereof. Restment filled interest-less loss of life loss of clothes that once covered differences and faults, Failures and misconceptions, All of our tiny mistakes  growing into vast forests g...

I tap through time feet brushing the water creating ripples in the blue-like waves, Soles barely touching  all is Lifted with fog surround me and fill full chest fill up pour through my temples press against gray matter slowly  slowly  slower still breathe and keep breathing in the green haze teal-blue malaise of days to come the pond the lily pad Still drifting across are there trees in the distance? branches hanging with moss hanging  slowly.  eyes filled with calm-y thoughts sit still sit still sit still and wait green-blue-purple-gray— thick fog nothing stays here for long

~ This is technically a fanfiction. Now before you judge me please watch the movie The Secret of Kells. I promise you will understand why I felt the need to write something about it. ~ We travelled far into the forest, farther than we ever have before, using only the flowers and faeries as our guides. Trees surrounded each foot step and leaves shifted with our every breath. It began at the edge of the treeline, just outside of the great wall. She met me there, white hair flowing behind her; green eyes taking care whilst intruding on my thoughts. The cape I brought offered little protection from the cold of the morning, and the dew lapped at my ankles through the leather shoes that hugged my feet. Wool socks were just enough to keep out the chill. My pockets hung low with a loaf of bread, palm sized woven sacks, twine, quills, and jars for collecting. These would get heavier with time, but I did not mind. She called me forward, and I followed with eager curiosity. Intense as the ...

Cyrus watched it from the window. The dark shape ambled over the hills in the distance, outlined by the rapidly blueing sky. Now, the trees assumed their shadowy facades and the purples of the horizon dipped into the oranges and yellows of the sunset. The colors blended together in one watercolor mass that transcended his art classes at The Academy. His imagination seemed to draw the creature nearer; the more he feared it the closer it got. No sound came from the being, but it’s roars echoed through his chest and exploded into shards of red that threatened to tear him open. Cyrus refused to look away from the creature.  The fur was not black, rather it was made of shadow. It drew in light like a black hole. Around it time contorted into monstrous shapes that Cyrus could not begin to comprehend. He starred in horrified fascination as the creature absorbed the landscape around him. His world grew ever more split the closer the monster got to him. He could stop it’s arrival, yet...

The cavern led Hieta to a tiny locked box. The thin carvings contradicted the weight of the object—almost as heavy as her cat back home. Swirls drew her eyes in a spiralling pattern across the surface. Nimble flecks of gold appeared and disappeared as she turned the box over in her hands and she thought she noticed nearly undetectable gems inlaid in the wood, following the spiral patterns of the carvings. The Search had taken her across the world but never had she come across such an intricate specimen. Thyminus would have loved to hold this in his well-worn hands. He would have found a way to trace its roots all the way back. Farther than anyone else could have done.  He had, however, trained Hieta well and her eyes pointed her in the direction of the information she sought.  A small notch, carved in the bottom left corner of the base of the box, was certainly deeper than the slip of a knife. Hieta extracted a slim leather case from her canvas pack and leafed thr...

too much to do to say to feel to do to watch to read to see to laugh to learn to love to experience the world in its entirety  fully and without regret without missing a single moment a single day not one second unused not one cup from which i have not drunk not a drop left in a glass filled with liquid gold glittering unapologetically, not enough time— running out running out running out obligations stretch  for m     i l   e s on end things that are a must and not a could could do could say could feel could be could if there was enough space to breath to take a step back and watch the suns rise and set and the frogs climb higher and the cicadas buzz louder and waves rush back to shore i want to join them and fall freely swirling like a painting set in motion colors intertwining in a dance of my own design tumbling into years that have not been experienced; lives—a life  that i have not lived ...

[CW - suicide-ish] One of these days he’ll find the colors in the eyes of the world. he will not be scared to drown in the flood that consumes them; Sleep no more will be a line in a play— forgotten and relearned but never belonging to him—never overstaying its welcome Suns will rise and he will no longer get burned in the fire, The swell and singe will be encouraged and he will not choose between a sword and a pair of wings

Just wash your hands darling, I promise you’ll soon feel better. The cold might shock you, but the warmth will wrap its arms around you and will not let go as long as I’m here. I promise that. Light a candle and dance freely within the flame. If you keep dancing it will not burn you, it will not burn you. Let it illuminate the wonders of the world that you have since forgotten. Write down the thoughts as they come, a stream of ponderings, scream your name into the sky and even if you don’t find it echoing back know that someone has heard. Wash your hands now; wash them with lavender soap.

i’ve carved a room made of glass jagged fabrication built cloudy-gray webbed with cracks and wire frames to match stickers of places; fields spilling with dreams line the scratched panels and find seams bursting with fraying thread soaked leaves spring up from the ground buzzing bees resting on intoxicating cotton swabs swarming, stifling delivered to ears with honey-infested words i’ve dug down through the soil and made friends with the worms the others—they say— will come at me with knives but gleaming silver whispers speak “otherwise” overgrown—overflowing bright green leaves  that keep on going, going,  going, laughing and dying  reaching to the translucent rafters  touching the ceiling from high-wire heights memories lie but paintings,  paintings she promises, those have been inked over over thousands of times vines grow too tall to contain too tall too tall too tall to cut down— a fractured pat...