I haven't forgotten about this!! New stuff coming soon!!
Later llamas, wish me luck with finals!
(or better yet, pray for me and my sanity)
Monday, April 30, 2007
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Cain: Chapter 2 (second draft)
Here you be. Any feedback would be appreciated...otherwise...enjoy. Well, hopefully enjoy, anyways.
I like coffee. And rain. And Biology. And writing. This is a good day.
"Cain"
Chapter Two: Fear of Paradise
Nauseated and dizzy, my bare feet churned recklessly through the grass, my mind unable to grasp what I’d just done. The northern sky rolled above me, a massive, breathtaking panorama of endless clouds. Gigantic thunderheads roared at each other, titans seemingly rousing at my presence to reach down and crush me.
Eden lay behind me. I ran from paradise. Worse, I ran from my father, now lying unconscious at the gates of that once beautiful garden. I ran from the rock I’d clubbed him with, and I ran from my fear. The fear. That was the one thing I could never seem to escape.
I can never go back.
I knew there would be no home for me in the valley now. It hardly mattered whether or not my family would accept me. My shame was a deep canyon across which I could only see the people in my life, not be with them.. I could never look Mother in the eye again. I would never be able to face Azura, let alone Adam.
Adam would hate me forever.
If he didn’t bleed to death or get devoured by beasts.
I knew I was running from comfort, safety and shelter into an unknown and empty world, but I couldn’t stop myself. I had to know. I had to find out where we’d come from, find Adam and Eve’s parents. I had to prove them wrong and show them up for the liars they surely were.
Maybe I’ll be the one to get devoured by beasts.
Night was falling. Despite the fact that it was light out, the world held that still, shadowy quality that comes just before the darkness begins to grow stronger. The oranges and pinks have all faded back into blue, but I can still see to find my way.
It wasn’t until exhaustion began to set in that I was forced to stop. The night and the storm towered around me, hiding all light and noise. The land here was mostly prairie with the occasional rock formation. The tall, lush grass had been pleasant at first, waving in the gentle wind, but now with the storm picking up, the wind was sending it slapping into my face.
As I slowed to a walk, I began to worry about shelter. Surely it would start to rain soon. Lighting flashed, and I was given a brief glimpse of the area. A low rise of smooth, round boulders lay a hundred yards to the west. I dashed toward them, hopeful. The rain finally managed to free itself from the cloud then, wrenching out in a massive downpour like dirty water being wrung from a washcloth. I was soaked to the bone by the time I reached the rock. I frantically searched the rocks for a place to wait out the storm and finally found a tiny little cave to curl up in on the far face of the rock. It didn’t totally protect me from the wind and rain, but I felt relatively safe from the reach of the titans screaming for me on the winds.
I leaned my head against the wall and sighed, wet hair dripping into my lap. Deeply exhausted from the days events, I could not resist sleep for a second. I didn’t want to dream about the day past, but I couldn’t help it.
---
Sunrise. Going back from evening and starting at the beginning, it is the morning of the day I ran away. I wake as the sun yawns and stretches itself across the sky. Three months have passed since my baby sister died. Exactly ninety days. I know because Adam keeps track. There is a dead tree on the northern edge of our valley that died long ago. Adam, as part of his morning ritual, goes out there every morning and carves a notch into it, marking off another day.
Which is basically what every day is, another notch in the tree. The sun returns as boring as the sunset it said goodnight with. I couldn’t help wishing it were already time to put in a notch for tomorrow. As if most days weren’t bad enough, today was my thirteenth birthday, according to Adam. Which meant lots of unwanted fuss for a boy who didn’t deserve a bit of it.
Pressed against a wall of our one room hut, I watch the sky through a tiny whole in the slats, willing myself to be still.
The longer I can pretend to sleep, the longer till the day starts.
Normally I would be woken up at sunrise, but not today. Not on my birthday. This was the day’s one advantage. I took one last eyeful of the morning sky and tried to settle in and fall back asleep again. I was just beginning to drift back into the dream worlds beyond my eyelids when a gentle tap awoke me. Jumping up with a start, I nearly yelled, but one of Adam’s strong, hands, smelling of dirt and sawdust, clamped over it slowly and softly.
“Shhhh.” He whispered. “Come outside with me.”
Irritable, I followed him, stepping over my snoring siblings. There was only one real bed. The children slept on hay pallets strewn across the floor every evening and stacked every morning when it was time to mark off another day.
When we stood outside, about ten feet off from the house, he told me why he’d drug me away from bed. “I wanted to show you something today, Cain. Something for your birthday. Until now, you and your siblings have only heard about the Garden of Eden in stories, but today, I’m going to take you there.”
My heart leapt into my throat. I could hardly believe such a fortunate turn of events. This was my chance to escape! I never considered for a second he might actually be telling the truth about Eden. It was a sham, I knew it was a sham, if I could only find more people, new people, it would be worth it. In my head I could already picture what it might look like. Not one pathetic little hut but dozens of grand buildings filled with interesting people, new people. That was what I wanted, to find people outside my family that thought like me and wanted to live the way I wanted to live.
People like me that hated people like Abel. People with shaky hands.
Feigning reluctance, I agreed to go with him.
We set off an hour later. Barely a soul stirred at our exit. Only Eve woke to see us off, smiling tiredly.
Like a flower with its petals unfolded, the sunrise was in full bloom as we left the valley behind us and strode west at a steady clip, my short legs struggling to keep up with Adam’s faster gait. There wasn’t much to see. Just grass, the sky, the odd rock formation. The land out here gently rolled, swelling and dipping into hills and valleys. In the distance, I could see handfuls of trees scattered here and there, but these were little better than specks against the deep blue sky, like water stained with specks of dirt.
My thoughts grew increasingly dark and wicked as the morning matured into noon and then afternoon. The day was preparing for that long, suicidal plunge into evening, and this served to make my disposition increasingly surly. I could only watch helpless as the afternoon hours began to slide by. I found my hands clenching and unclenching, tension and anxiety strewing seedlings in my mind that began to sprout. It was fortunate that Adam spoke only a little, for this would have increased the poisonous anger digging its roots into me tenfold. I knew I had to escape, and that it would mean hurting Adam, maybe killing him.
A few hours before sunset, a long black line appeared on the horizon atop the crest of a hill, some sort of massive wall. Could it really be Eden? I thought to myself, filled with disbelief.
My pace began to quicken, the nearer it grew. What if it not a garden but a city? What if Adam was taking me to see my grandparents? Surely he was going to apologize for lying, and tell the truth. Then I could travel far away see all the strange, wondrous lands beyond our little corner of the world.
As we reached the top of the hill, I saw that I was the one who was wrong. Adam had not lied to me at all. A massive wall of vibrant green bush stretched thirty feet overhead and at least a mile in either direction. Massive, trees with thick trunks soared higher than the wall in parts. I was surprised to see that their branches were all bare, just withered fingers clutching at the sky.
My cruelty slid to the surface then, that deep malignant desire to hurt someone. Adam had told the truth. Somehow, this made me as angry as anything he could have done. I seethed, fists clenched, stance tight and rigid.
Adam had to have noticed my anger during the journey, but he had ignored it, and continued to do so, staying quiet, studying the decaying paradise before us. He seemed overwhelmed, too overwhelmed to realize I was losing my grip.
I gritted my teeth against a scream. I didn’t want to be wrong, and it was filling me with hate. Right then, I hated him even more than I hated Abel, that wicked little do-gooder. After a moment, I realized Adam would know something was going on the second he looked at me and forced myself to bury my emotions.
For a long time, he was too out of it to pay attention to the inner struggle going on beside him. When he finally glanced my way, I had everything under control. My face blank, I simply stared at him, wondering what his plan was now that we were actually here. Were we going to sneak in? If they were really telling the truth about what happened here, a burning sword would make that impossible.
“What now?” I finally said after a moment, impatient.
“We find a way in.” Adam said simply. His voice was soft but excited, filled with yearning. He tilted his head back, glancing up the length of the wall, scanning the thick green leaves that stood between us and paradise.
“But you said a burning sword guarded the way in!”
“Yes”, he said, glancing down at me and narrowing his eyes, frowning in concentration. “It did once. That’s not to say the sword is still here. Perhaps it went back to heaven.”
I said nothing, doubtful. I didn’t care about Eden. It seemed to be dying. My brain spun through plan after plan to escape.
“Come on, Cain.” Adam said, turning away from me and beginning to walk the length of the wall. I sighed audibly and began to march. The sky was changing, I saw. Turbulent storm clouds were piling up, one atop another into massive, dark, towering thunderheads that bruised the sky.
“The gate will be this way,” he called, glancing back my way for a moment. I opened my mouth, fully prepared to tell him what he could do with this gate, when a sharp pain in my foot nearly pitched me to the ground. I glanced down to see a small, light brown resting on the ground, one side rounded, the other pointed but blunt.
I knelt, clutching at the rock, and glanced up at Adam, who was still oblivious to what I was doing.
I like coffee. And rain. And Biology. And writing. This is a good day.
"Cain"
Chapter Two: Fear of Paradise
Nauseated and dizzy, my bare feet churned recklessly through the grass, my mind unable to grasp what I’d just done. The northern sky rolled above me, a massive, breathtaking panorama of endless clouds. Gigantic thunderheads roared at each other, titans seemingly rousing at my presence to reach down and crush me.
Eden lay behind me. I ran from paradise. Worse, I ran from my father, now lying unconscious at the gates of that once beautiful garden. I ran from the rock I’d clubbed him with, and I ran from my fear. The fear. That was the one thing I could never seem to escape.
I can never go back.
I knew there would be no home for me in the valley now. It hardly mattered whether or not my family would accept me. My shame was a deep canyon across which I could only see the people in my life, not be with them.. I could never look Mother in the eye again. I would never be able to face Azura, let alone Adam.
Adam would hate me forever.
If he didn’t bleed to death or get devoured by beasts.
I knew I was running from comfort, safety and shelter into an unknown and empty world, but I couldn’t stop myself. I had to know. I had to find out where we’d come from, find Adam and Eve’s parents. I had to prove them wrong and show them up for the liars they surely were.
Maybe I’ll be the one to get devoured by beasts.
Night was falling. Despite the fact that it was light out, the world held that still, shadowy quality that comes just before the darkness begins to grow stronger. The oranges and pinks have all faded back into blue, but I can still see to find my way.
It wasn’t until exhaustion began to set in that I was forced to stop. The night and the storm towered around me, hiding all light and noise. The land here was mostly prairie with the occasional rock formation. The tall, lush grass had been pleasant at first, waving in the gentle wind, but now with the storm picking up, the wind was sending it slapping into my face.
As I slowed to a walk, I began to worry about shelter. Surely it would start to rain soon. Lighting flashed, and I was given a brief glimpse of the area. A low rise of smooth, round boulders lay a hundred yards to the west. I dashed toward them, hopeful. The rain finally managed to free itself from the cloud then, wrenching out in a massive downpour like dirty water being wrung from a washcloth. I was soaked to the bone by the time I reached the rock. I frantically searched the rocks for a place to wait out the storm and finally found a tiny little cave to curl up in on the far face of the rock. It didn’t totally protect me from the wind and rain, but I felt relatively safe from the reach of the titans screaming for me on the winds.
I leaned my head against the wall and sighed, wet hair dripping into my lap. Deeply exhausted from the days events, I could not resist sleep for a second. I didn’t want to dream about the day past, but I couldn’t help it.
---
Sunrise. Going back from evening and starting at the beginning, it is the morning of the day I ran away. I wake as the sun yawns and stretches itself across the sky. Three months have passed since my baby sister died. Exactly ninety days. I know because Adam keeps track. There is a dead tree on the northern edge of our valley that died long ago. Adam, as part of his morning ritual, goes out there every morning and carves a notch into it, marking off another day.
Which is basically what every day is, another notch in the tree. The sun returns as boring as the sunset it said goodnight with. I couldn’t help wishing it were already time to put in a notch for tomorrow. As if most days weren’t bad enough, today was my thirteenth birthday, according to Adam. Which meant lots of unwanted fuss for a boy who didn’t deserve a bit of it.
Pressed against a wall of our one room hut, I watch the sky through a tiny whole in the slats, willing myself to be still.
The longer I can pretend to sleep, the longer till the day starts.
Normally I would be woken up at sunrise, but not today. Not on my birthday. This was the day’s one advantage. I took one last eyeful of the morning sky and tried to settle in and fall back asleep again. I was just beginning to drift back into the dream worlds beyond my eyelids when a gentle tap awoke me. Jumping up with a start, I nearly yelled, but one of Adam’s strong, hands, smelling of dirt and sawdust, clamped over it slowly and softly.
“Shhhh.” He whispered. “Come outside with me.”
Irritable, I followed him, stepping over my snoring siblings. There was only one real bed. The children slept on hay pallets strewn across the floor every evening and stacked every morning when it was time to mark off another day.
When we stood outside, about ten feet off from the house, he told me why he’d drug me away from bed. “I wanted to show you something today, Cain. Something for your birthday. Until now, you and your siblings have only heard about the Garden of Eden in stories, but today, I’m going to take you there.”
My heart leapt into my throat. I could hardly believe such a fortunate turn of events. This was my chance to escape! I never considered for a second he might actually be telling the truth about Eden. It was a sham, I knew it was a sham, if I could only find more people, new people, it would be worth it. In my head I could already picture what it might look like. Not one pathetic little hut but dozens of grand buildings filled with interesting people, new people. That was what I wanted, to find people outside my family that thought like me and wanted to live the way I wanted to live.
People like me that hated people like Abel. People with shaky hands.
Feigning reluctance, I agreed to go with him.
We set off an hour later. Barely a soul stirred at our exit. Only Eve woke to see us off, smiling tiredly.
Like a flower with its petals unfolded, the sunrise was in full bloom as we left the valley behind us and strode west at a steady clip, my short legs struggling to keep up with Adam’s faster gait. There wasn’t much to see. Just grass, the sky, the odd rock formation. The land out here gently rolled, swelling and dipping into hills and valleys. In the distance, I could see handfuls of trees scattered here and there, but these were little better than specks against the deep blue sky, like water stained with specks of dirt.
My thoughts grew increasingly dark and wicked as the morning matured into noon and then afternoon. The day was preparing for that long, suicidal plunge into evening, and this served to make my disposition increasingly surly. I could only watch helpless as the afternoon hours began to slide by. I found my hands clenching and unclenching, tension and anxiety strewing seedlings in my mind that began to sprout. It was fortunate that Adam spoke only a little, for this would have increased the poisonous anger digging its roots into me tenfold. I knew I had to escape, and that it would mean hurting Adam, maybe killing him.
A few hours before sunset, a long black line appeared on the horizon atop the crest of a hill, some sort of massive wall. Could it really be Eden? I thought to myself, filled with disbelief.
My pace began to quicken, the nearer it grew. What if it not a garden but a city? What if Adam was taking me to see my grandparents? Surely he was going to apologize for lying, and tell the truth. Then I could travel far away see all the strange, wondrous lands beyond our little corner of the world.
As we reached the top of the hill, I saw that I was the one who was wrong. Adam had not lied to me at all. A massive wall of vibrant green bush stretched thirty feet overhead and at least a mile in either direction. Massive, trees with thick trunks soared higher than the wall in parts. I was surprised to see that their branches were all bare, just withered fingers clutching at the sky.
My cruelty slid to the surface then, that deep malignant desire to hurt someone. Adam had told the truth. Somehow, this made me as angry as anything he could have done. I seethed, fists clenched, stance tight and rigid.
Adam had to have noticed my anger during the journey, but he had ignored it, and continued to do so, staying quiet, studying the decaying paradise before us. He seemed overwhelmed, too overwhelmed to realize I was losing my grip.
I gritted my teeth against a scream. I didn’t want to be wrong, and it was filling me with hate. Right then, I hated him even more than I hated Abel, that wicked little do-gooder. After a moment, I realized Adam would know something was going on the second he looked at me and forced myself to bury my emotions.
For a long time, he was too out of it to pay attention to the inner struggle going on beside him. When he finally glanced my way, I had everything under control. My face blank, I simply stared at him, wondering what his plan was now that we were actually here. Were we going to sneak in? If they were really telling the truth about what happened here, a burning sword would make that impossible.
“What now?” I finally said after a moment, impatient.
“We find a way in.” Adam said simply. His voice was soft but excited, filled with yearning. He tilted his head back, glancing up the length of the wall, scanning the thick green leaves that stood between us and paradise.
“But you said a burning sword guarded the way in!”
“Yes”, he said, glancing down at me and narrowing his eyes, frowning in concentration. “It did once. That’s not to say the sword is still here. Perhaps it went back to heaven.”
I said nothing, doubtful. I didn’t care about Eden. It seemed to be dying. My brain spun through plan after plan to escape.
“Come on, Cain.” Adam said, turning away from me and beginning to walk the length of the wall. I sighed audibly and began to march. The sky was changing, I saw. Turbulent storm clouds were piling up, one atop another into massive, dark, towering thunderheads that bruised the sky.
“The gate will be this way,” he called, glancing back my way for a moment. I opened my mouth, fully prepared to tell him what he could do with this gate, when a sharp pain in my foot nearly pitched me to the ground. I glanced down to see a small, light brown resting on the ground, one side rounded, the other pointed but blunt.
I knelt, clutching at the rock, and glanced up at Adam, who was still oblivious to what I was doing.
Monday, April 23, 2007
The fullness of Your grace is here with me...
Lemon Guaca Day and New Attitude aren't far away!!
I'm so excited. Next month is quite possibly going to be the best month ever.
Seriously. Seriously serious.
I added a feed from the Na website to my sidebar...it's in between my archives and music player...if you get bored waiting for new writing from me, you should check it out.
Speaking of new writing, I've written a new blog on my current focus verse which seems to have turned out really well. I'm somewhat excited about getting it posted here or on Lifteyes or both...
And Cain, chapter 2, it's coming. It's due in slightly more than a week, so I need to be rolling out a polished, publishable draft very soon.
Okay, back to chemistry. Ugh, I can't wait to be free from chemistry.
Later llamas.
I'm so excited. Next month is quite possibly going to be the best month ever.
Seriously. Seriously serious.
I added a feed from the Na website to my sidebar...it's in between my archives and music player...if you get bored waiting for new writing from me, you should check it out.
Speaking of new writing, I've written a new blog on my current focus verse which seems to have turned out really well. I'm somewhat excited about getting it posted here or on Lifteyes or both...
And Cain, chapter 2, it's coming. It's due in slightly more than a week, so I need to be rolling out a polished, publishable draft very soon.
Okay, back to chemistry. Ugh, I can't wait to be free from chemistry.
Later llamas.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Just so you have something new to look at if you are still checking this...
Today, I bought some stuff.
Maybe too much stuff.
I won't be able to buy much stuff for a while now because of this.
Here's what stuff:
-Battle for Middle-Earth, computer game I don't have time for.
-2 red Vaults, a.k.a valuable study partners
-A new blue shirt striped red
-A new green shirt striped blue
-A light blue hoodie
-A pair of brown pants for work and church
-A human hand
-A pair of flip-flops to replace my ratty old ones.
-Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carol
-Hard Times by Charles Dickens
-Three or four plastic shopping bags.
Hooray for clearance and classics in paperback with low production costs!
New draft of Cain chapter 2 coming soon...
Later llamas!
Today, I bought some stuff.
Maybe too much stuff.
I won't be able to buy much stuff for a while now because of this.
Here's what stuff:
-Battle for Middle-Earth, computer game I don't have time for.
-2 red Vaults, a.k.a valuable study partners
-A new blue shirt striped red
-A new green shirt striped blue
-A light blue hoodie
-A pair of brown pants for work and church
-A human hand
-A pair of flip-flops to replace my ratty old ones.
-Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carol
-Hard Times by Charles Dickens
-Three or four plastic shopping bags.
Hooray for clearance and classics in paperback with low production costs!
New draft of Cain chapter 2 coming soon...
Later llamas!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Cain, partial chapter 2
Don't read this!! New draft coming soon!!
Cain
Chapter Two: Fear of Paradise
Nauseated and dizzy, my bare feet churned recklessly through the grass, my mind unable to grasp what I’d just done. The northern sky rolled above me, a massive, breathtaking panorama of endless clouds. Gigantic thunderheads roared at each other, titans seemingly rousing at my presence to reach down and crush me.
Eden lay behind me. I ran from paradise. Worse, I ran from my father, now lying unconscious at the gates of that once beautiful garden. I ran from the rock I’d clubbed him with, and I ran from my fear. The fear. That was the one thing I could never seem to escape.
I can never go back.
I knew there would be no home for me in the valley now. It hardly mattered whether or not my family would accept me. My shame was a deep canyon across which I could only see the people in my life, not be with them.. I could never look Mother in the eye again. I would never be able to face Azura, let alone Adam.
Adam would hate me forever.
If he didn’t bleed to death or get devoured by beasts.
I knew I was running from comfort, safety and shelter into an unknown and empty world, but I couldn’t stop myself. I had to know. I had to find out where we’d come from, find Adam and Mother’s parents. I had to prove them wrong and show them up for the liars they surely were.
Maybe I’ll be the one to get devoured by beasts.
Night was falling. Despite the fact that it was light out, the world held that still, shadowy quality that comes just before the darkness begins to grow stronger. The oranges and pinks have all faded back into blue, but I can still see to find my way.
It wasn’t until exhaustion began to set in that I was forced to stop. The night and the storm towered around me, hiding all light and noise. The land here was mostly prairie with the occasional rock formation. The tall, lush grass had been pleasant at first, waving in the gentle wind, but now with the storm picking up, the wind was sending it slapping into my face.
As I slowed to a walk, I began to worry about shelter. Surely it would start to rain soon. Lighting flashed, and I was given a brief glimpse of the area. A low rise of smooth, round boulders lay a hundred yards to the west. I dashed toward them, hopeful. The rain finally managed to free itself from the cloud then, wrenching out in a massive downpour like dirty water being wrung from a washcloth. I was soaked to the bone by the time I reached the rock. I frantically searched the rocks for a place to wait out the storm and finally found a tiny little cave to curl up in on the far face of the rock. It didn’t totally protect me from the wind and rain, but I felt relatively safe from the reach of the titans screaming for me on the winds.
I leaned my head against the wall and sighed, wet hair dripping into my lap. Deeply exhausted from the days events, I could not resist sleep for a second. I didn’t want to dream about the day, but I couldn’t help it.
---
Morning of that day.
Sunrise. I wake as it yawns and stretches itself across the sky. It has been three months since my baby sister died. Exactly ninety days. I know because Adam keeps track. There is a dead tree on the northern edge of our valley that died long ago. Adam, as part of his morning ritual, goes out there every morning and carves a notch into it, marking off another day.
Which is basically what every day is, another notch in the tree. The sun returns as boring as the sunset it said goodnight with. I couldn’t help wishing it were already time to put in a notch for tomorrow. As if most days weren’t bad enough, today was my thirteenth birthday, according to Adam. Which meant lots of unwanted fuss for a boy who didn’t deserve a bit of it.
Pressed against a wall of our one room hut, I watch the sky through a tiny whole in the slats, willing myself to be still.
The longer I can pretend to sleep, the longer till the day starts.
Normally I would be woken up at sunrise, but not today. Not on my birthday. I took one last eyeful of the morning sky and tried to settle in and fall back asleep again. I was just beginning to drift back into the dream worlds beyond my eyelids when a gentle tap awoke me. Jumping up with a start, I nearly yelled, but one of Adam’s strong, hands, smelling of dirt and sawdust, clamped over it slowly and softly.
“Shhhh.” He whispered. “Come outside with me.”
Irritable, I followed him, stepping over my snoring siblings.
When we stood outside, about ten feet off from the house, he told me why he’d drug me from bed. “I wanted to show you something today, Cain. Something for your birthday. Until now, you and your siblings have only heard about the Garden of Eden in stories, but today, I’m going to take you there.”
Cain
Chapter Two: Fear of Paradise
Nauseated and dizzy, my bare feet churned recklessly through the grass, my mind unable to grasp what I’d just done. The northern sky rolled above me, a massive, breathtaking panorama of endless clouds. Gigantic thunderheads roared at each other, titans seemingly rousing at my presence to reach down and crush me.
Eden lay behind me. I ran from paradise. Worse, I ran from my father, now lying unconscious at the gates of that once beautiful garden. I ran from the rock I’d clubbed him with, and I ran from my fear. The fear. That was the one thing I could never seem to escape.
I can never go back.
I knew there would be no home for me in the valley now. It hardly mattered whether or not my family would accept me. My shame was a deep canyon across which I could only see the people in my life, not be with them.. I could never look Mother in the eye again. I would never be able to face Azura, let alone Adam.
Adam would hate me forever.
If he didn’t bleed to death or get devoured by beasts.
I knew I was running from comfort, safety and shelter into an unknown and empty world, but I couldn’t stop myself. I had to know. I had to find out where we’d come from, find Adam and Mother’s parents. I had to prove them wrong and show them up for the liars they surely were.
Maybe I’ll be the one to get devoured by beasts.
Night was falling. Despite the fact that it was light out, the world held that still, shadowy quality that comes just before the darkness begins to grow stronger. The oranges and pinks have all faded back into blue, but I can still see to find my way.
It wasn’t until exhaustion began to set in that I was forced to stop. The night and the storm towered around me, hiding all light and noise. The land here was mostly prairie with the occasional rock formation. The tall, lush grass had been pleasant at first, waving in the gentle wind, but now with the storm picking up, the wind was sending it slapping into my face.
As I slowed to a walk, I began to worry about shelter. Surely it would start to rain soon. Lighting flashed, and I was given a brief glimpse of the area. A low rise of smooth, round boulders lay a hundred yards to the west. I dashed toward them, hopeful. The rain finally managed to free itself from the cloud then, wrenching out in a massive downpour like dirty water being wrung from a washcloth. I was soaked to the bone by the time I reached the rock. I frantically searched the rocks for a place to wait out the storm and finally found a tiny little cave to curl up in on the far face of the rock. It didn’t totally protect me from the wind and rain, but I felt relatively safe from the reach of the titans screaming for me on the winds.
I leaned my head against the wall and sighed, wet hair dripping into my lap. Deeply exhausted from the days events, I could not resist sleep for a second. I didn’t want to dream about the day, but I couldn’t help it.
---
Morning of that day.
Sunrise. I wake as it yawns and stretches itself across the sky. It has been three months since my baby sister died. Exactly ninety days. I know because Adam keeps track. There is a dead tree on the northern edge of our valley that died long ago. Adam, as part of his morning ritual, goes out there every morning and carves a notch into it, marking off another day.
Which is basically what every day is, another notch in the tree. The sun returns as boring as the sunset it said goodnight with. I couldn’t help wishing it were already time to put in a notch for tomorrow. As if most days weren’t bad enough, today was my thirteenth birthday, according to Adam. Which meant lots of unwanted fuss for a boy who didn’t deserve a bit of it.
Pressed against a wall of our one room hut, I watch the sky through a tiny whole in the slats, willing myself to be still.
The longer I can pretend to sleep, the longer till the day starts.
Normally I would be woken up at sunrise, but not today. Not on my birthday. I took one last eyeful of the morning sky and tried to settle in and fall back asleep again. I was just beginning to drift back into the dream worlds beyond my eyelids when a gentle tap awoke me. Jumping up with a start, I nearly yelled, but one of Adam’s strong, hands, smelling of dirt and sawdust, clamped over it slowly and softly.
“Shhhh.” He whispered. “Come outside with me.”
Irritable, I followed him, stepping over my snoring siblings.
When we stood outside, about ten feet off from the house, he told me why he’d drug me from bed. “I wanted to show you something today, Cain. Something for your birthday. Until now, you and your siblings have only heard about the Garden of Eden in stories, but today, I’m going to take you there.”
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
When I have breathed for the last time, I'm walking to the end of that pier...
Howdy.
It's been awhile. I'm not updating lately...I've been really busy with school...I don't know, I might try to get back in the habit of updating every day...
Um.
I'm going to be studying chemistry all day today. I got blindsided by a biology test yesterday. I thought it would be tomorrow, so I didn't study much for it, and then I got to class yesterday and the teacher starts talking about a test...I think I actually did okay, though...
Um.
I finally broke down and bought the new Legend of Zelda, Twilight Princess for Gamecube last week. I was holding out for the Wii version, but the Wii is a massive commitment in both time and money that I wasn't prepared to make. I'm firmly convinced it is the best video game ever made, or at least a close tie with the last several Zelda games...
The storyline is really good, definitely the best in a Zelda so far, very mysterious and suspenseful. And you get turned into a wolf! That was one of my favorite parts of the game so far, fighting my way out of this massive, beautiful castle as a wolf... It's actually wicked sweet...you get to play as a dog for certain parts of the game and you can fight and dig and scent stuff out like a wolf...and this is addition to deeper swordfighting mechanics, getting a horse right from the start, a massive world to explore, tons of interesting characters, and all kinds of nifty stuff. You even get a boomerang that lets you control wind and create little tornados...
I just wish I didn't have studying keeping me away from it...I don't like to play video games too much anymore but I still love Zelda...
SO.
Anyways, I've got a lot of studying to do. I wanted to write a lot more than this and maybe even something meaningful, but I really need to focus on studying. I know I always talk about posting stuff and then often, um don't, but tomorrow I'll have something up for certain...FOR CERTAIN. Possibly the first bit of chapter two of Cain. Or...something else. I still have my assassin story, Downfall, but I'm not so fond of it, so I've had no desire to post it. I also have a silly story about a boy with a pumpkin head, but it's not finished yet...and have some devotional stuff I'll try to type up...I'm on an extended partial fast right now, so I'd like to journal about fasting...
AND I have the intros to the final two stories in Four Flights Up(an anthology type dealing I'm working on) just about finished. Both are...coming along. I'll probably post one or both sometime next week.
So yeah, I need to quit talking and go study! Later llamas!
It's been awhile. I'm not updating lately...I've been really busy with school...I don't know, I might try to get back in the habit of updating every day...
Um.
I'm going to be studying chemistry all day today. I got blindsided by a biology test yesterday. I thought it would be tomorrow, so I didn't study much for it, and then I got to class yesterday and the teacher starts talking about a test...I think I actually did okay, though...
Um.
I finally broke down and bought the new Legend of Zelda, Twilight Princess for Gamecube last week. I was holding out for the Wii version, but the Wii is a massive commitment in both time and money that I wasn't prepared to make. I'm firmly convinced it is the best video game ever made, or at least a close tie with the last several Zelda games...
The storyline is really good, definitely the best in a Zelda so far, very mysterious and suspenseful. And you get turned into a wolf! That was one of my favorite parts of the game so far, fighting my way out of this massive, beautiful castle as a wolf... It's actually wicked sweet...you get to play as a dog for certain parts of the game and you can fight and dig and scent stuff out like a wolf...and this is addition to deeper swordfighting mechanics, getting a horse right from the start, a massive world to explore, tons of interesting characters, and all kinds of nifty stuff. You even get a boomerang that lets you control wind and create little tornados...
I just wish I didn't have studying keeping me away from it...I don't like to play video games too much anymore but I still love Zelda...
SO.
Anyways, I've got a lot of studying to do. I wanted to write a lot more than this and maybe even something meaningful, but I really need to focus on studying. I know I always talk about posting stuff and then often, um don't, but tomorrow I'll have something up for certain...FOR CERTAIN. Possibly the first bit of chapter two of Cain. Or...something else. I still have my assassin story, Downfall, but I'm not so fond of it, so I've had no desire to post it. I also have a silly story about a boy with a pumpkin head, but it's not finished yet...and have some devotional stuff I'll try to type up...I'm on an extended partial fast right now, so I'd like to journal about fasting...
AND I have the intros to the final two stories in Four Flights Up(an anthology type dealing I'm working on) just about finished. Both are...coming along. I'll probably post one or both sometime next week.
So yeah, I need to quit talking and go study! Later llamas!
Monday, April 9, 2007
I'm faking my own suicide, because I know you love me, you just haven't realized...
Hi llamas.
Blog and new fiction coming soon.
And an alligator. I'm going to post some manner of alligator. Just because I figured, sure, I can post pictures, I can post blogs, I can post videos, I can post stories, I can post poems, anybody can do that...
How many people post live alligators?!
Just you wait, live alligator coming soon!!
Blog and new fiction coming soon.
And an alligator. I'm going to post some manner of alligator. Just because I figured, sure, I can post pictures, I can post blogs, I can post videos, I can post stories, I can post poems, anybody can do that...
How many people post live alligators?!
Just you wait, live alligator coming soon!!
Sunday, April 8, 2007
To Busy For God?
I hate typos.
Just thought I'd let you know.
I bought the Almost's new cd today. It's really, really good. I'll try to write a review for it soon...
Lots happened this weekend...I'll try to post a bullet-style blog mentioning some stuff tomorrow...or Monday...
Today I have a little something I wrote in my journal last week...let me know what you think and maybe I'll post it on lifteyes...and maybe more stuff from my journal...I'm not confident it's good but I'll post it anyways and then take it down if I don't like it...typing up a blog a few minutes before 1 is probably a bad idea...
Proverbs 7, one and two say "My son, keep my words and treasure up my commandments with you; keep my commandments and live; keep my teaching as the apple of your eye."
I so desperately need to learn to treasure the commands of God more deeply. So often I forsake spending time with God for lesser things. Time with friends and family, homework, my job. All of these are important, a vital part of my life, but if I'm not regularly putting myself before God and reading the Word and praying daily and seeking out His will and what will bring Him glory, I can't effectively engage in anything. And certainly I can't lead, not in any useful capacity.
A life lived without seeking God and treasuring His word and all the wisdom that can be found in it is a life running in circles. You can try to move all day but without God you won't budge an inch. I cannot learn to live a less selfish existence without God teaching me what it means to count others more significant than myself. I can't learn to worship God with my whole life if I am not properly focused on the object of that worship.
The Bible is a gift to be treasured, and devotions are to be treasured, because God is to be treasured! He is more important than work, than sleep, than anything. Never let the snooze button come between you and five more minutes with God! I can never, ever let myself thing I am too tired for God, too lowly for God, or too busy...we are never to busy for God because our life should be about Him. What's the apple of our eye? God, or something smaller?
Just thought I'd let you know.
I bought the Almost's new cd today. It's really, really good. I'll try to write a review for it soon...
Lots happened this weekend...I'll try to post a bullet-style blog mentioning some stuff tomorrow...or Monday...
Today I have a little something I wrote in my journal last week...let me know what you think and maybe I'll post it on lifteyes...and maybe more stuff from my journal...I'm not confident it's good but I'll post it anyways and then take it down if I don't like it...typing up a blog a few minutes before 1 is probably a bad idea...
Proverbs 7, one and two say "My son, keep my words and treasure up my commandments with you; keep my commandments and live; keep my teaching as the apple of your eye."
I so desperately need to learn to treasure the commands of God more deeply. So often I forsake spending time with God for lesser things. Time with friends and family, homework, my job. All of these are important, a vital part of my life, but if I'm not regularly putting myself before God and reading the Word and praying daily and seeking out His will and what will bring Him glory, I can't effectively engage in anything. And certainly I can't lead, not in any useful capacity.
A life lived without seeking God and treasuring His word and all the wisdom that can be found in it is a life running in circles. You can try to move all day but without God you won't budge an inch. I cannot learn to live a less selfish existence without God teaching me what it means to count others more significant than myself. I can't learn to worship God with my whole life if I am not properly focused on the object of that worship.
The Bible is a gift to be treasured, and devotions are to be treasured, because God is to be treasured! He is more important than work, than sleep, than anything. Never let the snooze button come between you and five more minutes with God! I can never, ever let myself thing I am too tired for God, too lowly for God, or too busy...we are never to busy for God because our life should be about Him. What's the apple of our eye? God, or something smaller?
Saturday, April 7, 2007
Thursday, April 5, 2007
I'll just believe that I was all displaced...
Sorry, still working on my blogs...
BUT
I wrote four poems in Creative Writing...
For the first, the assignment was to write about a memory from our childhood, and I wrote about falling and hitting the ground really hard.
The second is weird. I'll leave you to figure that one out. The assignment was to write about an object with meaning to us.
I think the third speaks for itself...the assignment was to write about someone we hate.
"Airborn"
Fly,
high above the grass,
king for one breadth of time.
Float,
The dandelions bow before you,
the wind pulls at your hair.
Descend,
ruinous gravity holds you fast,
your empire is toppling.
Crash,
your reign is at an end.
Falling never kept a man aloft.
"Where Are You?"
Every word a portal,
they wait, designing to hold you breathless
Crumbled, dust-thick pages fearlessly call your name.
bravery born of life in the dark corners.
Prowling the shelves, waiting
Prowling, waiting, yet silent.
Countless rows fill these echoing halls,
A massive amphitheater, all eyes on you.
Prowling, waiting yet perhaps not so silent
They speak to call you,
to lure you into false worlds,
places drowsy and heavy-lidded,
Where wonder sleeps like an exhausted child,
Where every light in the city has gone out,
Until your presence breathes fresh life,
awakening heroes lost in battle,
dragons lost in slumber.
Where once there was a key for every door,
there now lies naught
but the one in your own hands,
Sift through the words with your fingers,
redeem what has been lost,
for the mist that shrouds this land shall melt before the sun
"Me, Me, Me"
Inner enemy,
ghosts linger under my skin.
My soul was brought to life,
A billion lanterns illuminate my heart,
yet shadows are born under the lamplight.
Flesh is crawling,
it slithers like a snake,
Words are a balm,
as the peeling begins,
but only your words,
your love
They hold me together,
while the dead falls apart.
BUT
I wrote four poems in Creative Writing...
For the first, the assignment was to write about a memory from our childhood, and I wrote about falling and hitting the ground really hard.
The second is weird. I'll leave you to figure that one out. The assignment was to write about an object with meaning to us.
I think the third speaks for itself...the assignment was to write about someone we hate.
"Airborn"
Fly,
high above the grass,
king for one breadth of time.
Float,
The dandelions bow before you,
the wind pulls at your hair.
Descend,
ruinous gravity holds you fast,
your empire is toppling.
Crash,
your reign is at an end.
Falling never kept a man aloft.
"Where Are You?"
Every word a portal,
they wait, designing to hold you breathless
Crumbled, dust-thick pages fearlessly call your name.
bravery born of life in the dark corners.
Prowling the shelves, waiting
Prowling, waiting, yet silent.
Countless rows fill these echoing halls,
A massive amphitheater, all eyes on you.
Prowling, waiting yet perhaps not so silent
They speak to call you,
to lure you into false worlds,
places drowsy and heavy-lidded,
Where wonder sleeps like an exhausted child,
Where every light in the city has gone out,
Until your presence breathes fresh life,
awakening heroes lost in battle,
dragons lost in slumber.
Where once there was a key for every door,
there now lies naught
but the one in your own hands,
Sift through the words with your fingers,
redeem what has been lost,
for the mist that shrouds this land shall melt before the sun
"Me, Me, Me"
Inner enemy,
ghosts linger under my skin.
My soul was brought to life,
A billion lanterns illuminate my heart,
yet shadows are born under the lamplight.
Flesh is crawling,
it slithers like a snake,
Words are a balm,
as the peeling begins,
but only your words,
your love
They hold me together,
while the dead falls apart.
Baby you can drive my car, yes I'm gonna be a star...
The first chapter of Cain is up on Fictionpress. This is basically the final version, unless my teacher gives me any good suggestions. I basically just added a few little details and cleaned up the wordage a bit. Probably of no interest if you've already read the story, but if you haven't, it's a good place to start.
Chapter 2 should be done within a few weeks. I'll also have the first chapters of Vivisections and Atom finished soon, too...
Also, an article of some fashion should be up later today.
Later llamas, have a good afternoon!
Chapter 2 should be done within a few weeks. I'll also have the first chapters of Vivisections and Atom finished soon, too...
Also, an article of some fashion should be up later today.
Later llamas, have a good afternoon!
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
"And the slashie award goes to..."
Ha.
Hi llamas.
It's late, and I'm making a mole/extra credit for chemistry class.
That's right, an actual stuffed animal. Try to contain your feelings of envy for the time being. I just got back from Wal-mart with a packet of eyes, a swath of fake fur, some fuzzy "pom-poms" and bells to add decoration (and some manner of nose and stubby feet.) as well as some easter grass for stuffing. AND I got some nifty/random stuff for the pancake party I'm throwing Chad on Friday.
Oh yes, I haven't been blogging much lately...I'm throwing/collaborating with Chad for a party.
And it's going to rock like none other. You'll be telling your grandchildren about this party. Okay, probably not. But still. It's going to be fun/possibly a disaster.
I really don't have anything to say/talk about. A new article/blog is going to be up very soon, I think. I've got stuff written, I just need to type it up and make it coherent/fix it. And I think I got a new idea for something today. I'm going to write about something I've been struggling with, that had me down all afternoon until a few hours ago, something I've been praying for God to help me understand...
Two people have told me I need to watch Chitty Chitty Bang Bang/random segue, but I am apprehensive about watching a movie that always comes so close to making me swear without meaning to.
I've also been told I need to eat. Be right back.
Nobody told me I needed to eat except my stomach, but still, that counts, right? Oh oh! I made waffles this evening for dinner/part of dinner and tried chopping them up and eating them with chopsticks. It was great. I've decided chopsticks are the best eating utensil in the planet. I don't know why, it's just better than spearing your food. I wish more places used them.
This is pretty much Captain Randomblog. I'm putting off my homework, just like i have been all day/ just because I'm dumber than a post. Now I get to stay up late!! Woohoo/darn it!!
If you'll excuse me, I have a mole to construct/more time to waste before I go to bed. *starts to sing*
Build me a mole!
oh oh whoa oh oh!
Hey!
Whoa!
Oh oh whoa oh oh!
Hey!
Whoa!
Build me a mole, give it eyes!
Oh whoa oh oh!
Hey!
Whoa!
Build, build me a mole, give it!
A nose, a nose!
(whoa oh, a nose)
Stubby, stubby feet!
(Whoa oh, stubby feet)
Pom poms!!
(what the hey, what the heck are pom poms?!)
Ohhhhhh ohhhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhh
*falls on the floor and starts writhing and screaming*
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
BUUUUUUUUUUUIIIIIIIILD MEEEEEEEEEE AAAAAAAAAAAA MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLE!!!!!!
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
Later llamanators/potatoes/children of the mole people!
Hi llamas.
It's late, and I'm making a mole/extra credit for chemistry class.
That's right, an actual stuffed animal. Try to contain your feelings of envy for the time being. I just got back from Wal-mart with a packet of eyes, a swath of fake fur, some fuzzy "pom-poms" and bells to add decoration (and some manner of nose and stubby feet.) as well as some easter grass for stuffing. AND I got some nifty/random stuff for the pancake party I'm throwing Chad on Friday.
Oh yes, I haven't been blogging much lately...I'm throwing/collaborating with Chad for a party.
And it's going to rock like none other. You'll be telling your grandchildren about this party. Okay, probably not. But still. It's going to be fun/possibly a disaster.
I really don't have anything to say/talk about. A new article/blog is going to be up very soon, I think. I've got stuff written, I just need to type it up and make it coherent/fix it. And I think I got a new idea for something today. I'm going to write about something I've been struggling with, that had me down all afternoon until a few hours ago, something I've been praying for God to help me understand...
Two people have told me I need to watch Chitty Chitty Bang Bang/random segue, but I am apprehensive about watching a movie that always comes so close to making me swear without meaning to.
I've also been told I need to eat. Be right back.
Nobody told me I needed to eat except my stomach, but still, that counts, right? Oh oh! I made waffles this evening for dinner/part of dinner and tried chopping them up and eating them with chopsticks. It was great. I've decided chopsticks are the best eating utensil in the planet. I don't know why, it's just better than spearing your food. I wish more places used them.
This is pretty much Captain Randomblog. I'm putting off my homework, just like i have been all day/ just because I'm dumber than a post. Now I get to stay up late!! Woohoo/darn it!!
If you'll excuse me, I have a mole to construct/more time to waste before I go to bed. *starts to sing*
Build me a mole!
oh oh whoa oh oh!
Hey!
Whoa!
Oh oh whoa oh oh!
Hey!
Whoa!
Build me a mole, give it eyes!
Oh whoa oh oh!
Hey!
Whoa!
Build, build me a mole, give it!
A nose, a nose!
(whoa oh, a nose)
Stubby, stubby feet!
(Whoa oh, stubby feet)
Pom poms!!
(what the hey, what the heck are pom poms?!)
Ohhhhhh ohhhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhh
*falls on the floor and starts writhing and screaming*
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
BUUUUUUUUUUUIIIIIIIILD MEEEEEEEEEE AAAAAAAAAAAA MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLE!!!!!!
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
Later llamanators/potatoes/children of the mole people!
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
"Cain" (full chapter)
"Cain"
Chapter One: Fear of Burial
An offshoot of the Tigris flowed at my feet as I pinned a butterfly between my thumb and forefinger and pulled gently, slowly, at one of his colorful little blue and yellow wings, peeling it back until it popped off with a little snap. There is a depth in cruelty, an emotion few are brave enough to discover, something I feel every time I peel the wings off one of the little insects.
As its juice flowed over my fingers, the little bug wriggled like mad, flapping its one wing as it fought desperately for its freedom. A voice called through the forest where the miniature struggle was taking place, waking me up to what I was doing, kneeling in the grass and torturing a helpless bug.
“Cain!” It was my eldest sister, Azura. Fearful at the possibility of being discovered, I quickly dumped the struggling bug into the flow of the river and wiped my hands off on my tunic.
The cruelty wasn’t something I talked about, but something I hid, deep and secret like the stones at the bottom of the river. The crumpled butterfly was now hidden by the gently tossing waves, and the cruelty was hidden by the mad shuffle of my thoughts as I prepared to answer her.
Mother and Father couldn’t find out. No matter what. I didn’t mind if my younger brothers and sisters knew, but not mother and father. I felt a stab of guilt as I glanced about the forest, a green sea of trees that blotted out the sun to mere dabs and shadows. I was ashamed of my cruelty, and I wanted it buried.
Father had told me about burial. The first death in human history had been an infant. One of my sisters had died in childbirth, breaking my mother’s heart. Father had buried her, wrapping her tiny, fleshy body in blankets and digging her a deep hole, a deep, dark, gaping, black mouth that had swallowed the baby whole and licked its lips, jaws of earth clenching its teeth over her forever.
“Cain!” a voice interrupted my thoughts, a face breaking through my vision of the dead baby’s grave. Angry green eyes glared into mine. Azura. Older than Abel, our younger brother, but not as old as me.
“Quit dozing, Cain. Father needs your help. Another of Mother’s babies is going bad.” She grabbed my wrist and gave it a sharp tug, leading me out of the forest.
“I wasn’t dozing.” I insisted stubbornly as the quiet eleven year old dragged me out into the brilliant sunlight of the fields beyond the trees. And yet, I knew better than to tarry in whatever Father asked of me. He was short on patience for his cruel firstborn son.
As we neared the modest, one room cabin that my family currently called home, thoughts of that gaping grave came to mind. I almost wanted it to happen again, craved it with all the darkness I hid from my family. Curiosity blinded me, driving me to want to know more about it.
As in the forest, darkness was blotting out the light inside our tiny house and relegating it to whatever slats and cracks would abide its passage. Mother was perched upon a simply constructed bed Father had once said angels had taught him how to build. She was groaning in pain, her dark hair plastered to her face by perspiration. Even then, she still managed to look beautiful. For a moment, my cruelty was unwoven like a rope fraying into its individual fibers, unmade by a simple, childlike love for my mother.
Father stood at her side holding her hand, face a picture of loving concern. Still holding my wrist, Azura dropped it very suddenly and gasped, holding her hands to her mouth in horror.
The sheets and blankets of the bed were stained red with blood. I was rarely taken with a desire to pray, but right then and there, I wanted to drop to my knees for Mother and pray to God to take away the pain that tortured her so. I felt suddenly and unreasonably like it was all my fault. I the monster had been inflicting pain on the beautiful, and now Mother was hurting for it, almost as if she were somehow the butterfly.
Adam, Father, released Mother’s hand when he saw me. He walked across the room and knelt so that our faces were inches apart. Azura began to bustle here and there, attempting uselessly to busy herself in helping Mother.
“We’re losing another one.” He whispered quietly, as if Mother didn’t already know, weren’t already mourning the dead body bleeding inside her. As if Mother weren’t a living grave for the snatch of time before she gave “birth”.
I didn’t speak, merely waiting. He had a command for me. Father never spoke to me unless he had a command.
“Fetch me a blade,” he growled under his breath.
---
In less than a minute I was back with the only blade we owned, a small plow. “Abel’s got a steadier hand than either of us,” Father said. I’d burst into the room out of breath and gasping for air, insisting that I could still help, but Father took the blade and gave it to Abel with trembling fingers, his nerves shot.
He didn’t even cut the cord himself. Instead, he stood back, his face a mixture of fear and shame. I remembered then something he’d told me long ago, about that first day outside the garden, how God had told Mother that every baby that would ever be born was going to bring great pain to its mother.
Life always begins with pain.
We come into the world inflicting cruelty on the one who will teach us how to stand on our own, how to walk and speak and live. Screaming, we emerge from our mother’s womb surrounded by tired faces just relieved that you are alive enough to cry. Is it merciful or harsh to die as you are born? I couldn’t decide.
The baby was miscarried within minutes of my arrival, making me feel once more like the harbinger of bad luck. That whole side of the house had seemed to be stained with blood, even the floor surrounding the bed. In front of Mother, legs covered by a sheet so that only her feet were visible, the baby had lain still as stone at the foot of the bed.
Abel then quickly and cleanly cut through the little rope of wet, red flesh that connected Mother to the infant. And that had been that. For a moment time had seemed to stop, leaving the five of us frozen to the spot. A life had left the world. Perhaps that is the greatest cruelty of all, a life never lived. I knew it hurt mother to lose her baby far more than the trifling pain of the child’s emergence.
Adam ran to Mother and the two collapsed into each other’s arms, sobbing. Abel stumbled outside stiff and numb, plow still in hand. Azura tenderly and quietly picked up the little corpse and began to wrap it an extra blanket.
I merely fell to my knees, wishing God had granted me the mercy of a stillborn death.
---
We held the funeral at dusk. Nine of us gathered to remember the life that never was. I stood between Azura and Abel, my head full and sick and sad with memories of Mother’s miscarriage. She was the only one not present. I hadn’t seen her since father had pushed me out of the house.
Far from the house and the farm, near the eastern edge of the valley, Abel and I had dug a little circle of a grave, a hungry mouth expectant for its next meal. Fear was seizing me. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was afraid of the little pit we’d dug. The baby was already resting at its apex, wrapped as before in a swathing of blankets. I knew death wouldn’t be sated this once, just like the last baby hadn’t been enough. It wanted more. Mother, Father, Azura, me. Abel. Part of me wanted more, too. I wanted to die, and take them all down with me, leading humanity stumbling into its waiting tomb. It was in our skin. As certain as we knew we’d been born, we were assured that death was coming.
Just standing on the edge of the round little hole, the dirt on the edges crumbling in my toes, I felt the fear and hatred growing in me. A gentle breeze whipped the air, sweeping a loch of hair into my eyes. Brushing it aside with my fingers, I glanced at the seven gathered around me. All my brothers and sisters, staring ahead solemnly and patiently. I wondered what they thought about all this. I also wondered if they blamed me.
The grave for this baby was right next to the old. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the old, a raised mound of grass topped with a rough little stone to mark it. It was blanketed in flowers. Even though they didn’t understand the significance of what they were doing, some of the younger children would still came out here and drape messy bouquets of dandelions and daisies all over the little mound. Whatever freshly picked flowers didn’t find their way into our beautiful mother’s hands wound up here, where they would wither into the dirt just like the child resting underneath them.
All of us were waiting. Father didn’t want to begin until Mother felt ready to come out, so the eight of us children formed a half circle, expectantly awaiting her arrival. The opening melodies of a sunset were beginning to float through the sky, a song that would strain into beautiful crescendos of brilliant orange and pink before it fell off into the deep baritone of night. I couldn’t help growing impatient. I didn’t want to be here long, not in front of the waiting grave, not standing next to Abel.
I could barely stand the younger boy. Pious, arrogant Abel, always so ready to help, jumping to do this that and whatever. My hatred for him was like the changing tides of the sea, sometimes rising, sometimes receding, but always there.
Worse, every time I glanced his way, he would glance back, and I would have to fight to keep from glaring. From birth, we’d never gotten along. We both tried, him possibly harder than I, but it just didn’t work. We were born enemies.
The tides were back today, leaving the beach dry and clean. Neither of us wanted to fight on a day like this. It almost disappointed me. I wanted a conflict, wanted to yell at him, blame him for the baby’s death, even though I knew it was ridiculous, I wanted someone to point my finger at, anyone smaller than God.
As I looked his way, I couldn’t help remembering the crisis that both of us had been caught up in just an hour earlier. It started with thoughts of the plow father had sent me to fetch. I could picture it too vividly in my head, stained with blood dried dark red, resting against the outer wall of the house. Despite its clumsy make, I was fascinated by the tool. Its round wooden handles were slippery and awkward, but I still longed to hold it tightly in my hand. It’s thick, oddly shaped blade was dull and could not cut well, but I still wanted desperately to hurt something with it to see what color juices came out.
It should have been me who used the plow. Could this mess be because of me? The guilt was getting to me. I needed someone to take it out on, a target for me to point a finger at.
I hated Abel, hated his steady hand, and his steady heart.
Standing next to him now, I hated him so much my chest grew tighter for it.. I forced myself to turn away, and focused on Azura instead. Quiet, beautiful Azura. She reminded me of mother so much, despite her green eyes and strawberry blond hair. There was a simple grace about her that demanded your attention. As I looked her way, she was focused on the house, watching for mother. After a moment, her eye found mine and a sympathetic smile erased all the dark, violent thoughts of Abel from my head.
It was growing darker as song of the heavens had exhausted itself. Now the brilliant colors overhead were beginning to fade. I kept my head towards the sky for a long time, knowing what I wanted to think about all that was happening. I almost thought I should feel guilty. There were so many dark, evil thoughts in my head, I wondered if I was somehow the cause of all the suffering, because of the way I hated my brother and secretly loved causing others pain.
A soft gasp drew me back towards the earth. Azura had seen something. Squinting towards the house, I noticed Mother had appeared at the doorway. In the weak dusk light, we could just barely make her out, a shadow walking ghostlike through the field separating us.
When the shadow arrived at the infantile cemetery, Adam went to her and took her hand. For a moment the two simply stood like that, quiet. Then Mother slipped her hand out of his and threw herself into his arms, burying her head in his chest. All of us could hear a muffled wailing split the silence, deep sobs wracking her chest.
After a few minutes Adam began to whisper to her too softly for me to hear, and then the two of them took each others’ hands again and joined our semicircle.
Adam commenced to speak loudly, as if giving a speech, his words stiff and mournful. He talked about how Zillah, the baby girl, was with God now. He talked about how God had made each of us, and knew our hearts. And he talked about how that same God was perfectly in control, but I didn’t listen to a word of it.
Sometimes I secretly suspected all Adam’s stories about being the first human and naming all the animals and eating that fruit were all just made up to keep us kids behaving. I thought that somehow there might be other people out in the world, maybe hundreds if not thousands of people. How could this whole wide world be completely empty except for us? I wanted to wander away and fine them, to find the place we’d truly come from.
As Adam rambled through his sermon, Abel and I were supposed to begin shoveling dirt into the grave. This was the worst part, the part I was afraid of. As I lifted one of our primitive, flimsy shovels to begin tossing displaced earth into the gaping mouth, my heartbeat began to quicken. Seeing Zillah up close was disturbing. Looking at her blanket shrouded body, I began to think about what it would be like to be wrapped in blankets myself.
I could imagine the feel of the course fabric pressing against my mouth as I try to scream, sense it squeezing tight around my dead limbs as I try to move. Dread filled me as I felt dirt hitting my face, more and more and more as my family buried me. The fear lent an urgency to my work, and I put my back into motion, attacking the loose soil with frenzied speed.
I was increasingly grateful I wasn’t dead. I didn’t ever want to die and be buried, and I didn’t ever want to know what lay on the other side. If there was another world waiting for us after we close our eyes for the last time, I wanted no part of it. God could have all the light in the universe if he left me this little patch of darkness here on Earth.
After a time, Adam’s voice trailed off into nowhere and the only sound filling the evening air was the rhythmic scraping of shovels. After a few minutes of silence, Azura began to cry very quietly. I thought I was the only one that could hear it, but after I heard a sniffle from behind me, I knew Eve had began to cry, too.
Finally after what seemed like an infinite spell of mechanical movement, we were done. Abel patted down the little mound of dirt with his shovel and that was that. Seasons would fly past, and grass would cover this place again. Flowers would smother it, as more children were born to bring flowers here with ignorant reverence. The smooth river stone we’d place atop it would grow pitted and weather-beaten and then soften again as it gathered moss.
Soon after Abel and I finished our work, the family began to disperse. Everyone was exhausted and sad, and not a one of us wanted to stay near the graves any longer than we had to.
Abel and I lingered for a little while longer. We just stared at each other, leaning on our shovels. Neither of us spoke. The silence and the night deepened. I don’t know why, but neither of us wanted to leave. Perhaps we both wanted to fight. I wanted to scream at him, because I felt it was my fault the baby died. If I’d been kinder, things would have been different. That was the thought racing through my head.
Yet at the same time, it was Abel's fault, not mine. He was the one who made me so angry. I knew I was being irrational, but I didn't care. With a loud clattering, I let my shovel fall to the ground, leaving it for him to pick up. I turned back to the house and began to walk away. As I strode across the field in the dead of night, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what it would be like to bury Abel.
Chapter One: Fear of Burial
An offshoot of the Tigris flowed at my feet as I pinned a butterfly between my thumb and forefinger and pulled gently, slowly, at one of his colorful little blue and yellow wings, peeling it back until it popped off with a little snap. There is a depth in cruelty, an emotion few are brave enough to discover, something I feel every time I peel the wings off one of the little insects.
As its juice flowed over my fingers, the little bug wriggled like mad, flapping its one wing as it fought desperately for its freedom. A voice called through the forest where the miniature struggle was taking place, waking me up to what I was doing, kneeling in the grass and torturing a helpless bug.
“Cain!” It was my eldest sister, Azura. Fearful at the possibility of being discovered, I quickly dumped the struggling bug into the flow of the river and wiped my hands off on my tunic.
The cruelty wasn’t something I talked about, but something I hid, deep and secret like the stones at the bottom of the river. The crumpled butterfly was now hidden by the gently tossing waves, and the cruelty was hidden by the mad shuffle of my thoughts as I prepared to answer her.
Mother and Father couldn’t find out. No matter what. I didn’t mind if my younger brothers and sisters knew, but not mother and father. I felt a stab of guilt as I glanced about the forest, a green sea of trees that blotted out the sun to mere dabs and shadows. I was ashamed of my cruelty, and I wanted it buried.
Father had told me about burial. The first death in human history had been an infant. One of my sisters had died in childbirth, breaking my mother’s heart. Father had buried her, wrapping her tiny, fleshy body in blankets and digging her a deep hole, a deep, dark, gaping, black mouth that had swallowed the baby whole and licked its lips, jaws of earth clenching its teeth over her forever.
“Cain!” a voice interrupted my thoughts, a face breaking through my vision of the dead baby’s grave. Angry green eyes glared into mine. Azura. Older than Abel, our younger brother, but not as old as me.
“Quit dozing, Cain. Father needs your help. Another of Mother’s babies is going bad.” She grabbed my wrist and gave it a sharp tug, leading me out of the forest.
“I wasn’t dozing.” I insisted stubbornly as the quiet eleven year old dragged me out into the brilliant sunlight of the fields beyond the trees. And yet, I knew better than to tarry in whatever Father asked of me. He was short on patience for his cruel firstborn son.
As we neared the modest, one room cabin that my family currently called home, thoughts of that gaping grave came to mind. I almost wanted it to happen again, craved it with all the darkness I hid from my family. Curiosity blinded me, driving me to want to know more about it.
As in the forest, darkness was blotting out the light inside our tiny house and relegating it to whatever slats and cracks would abide its passage. Mother was perched upon a simply constructed bed Father had once said angels had taught him how to build. She was groaning in pain, her dark hair plastered to her face by perspiration. Even then, she still managed to look beautiful. For a moment, my cruelty was unwoven like a rope fraying into its individual fibers, unmade by a simple, childlike love for my mother.
Father stood at her side holding her hand, face a picture of loving concern. Still holding my wrist, Azura dropped it very suddenly and gasped, holding her hands to her mouth in horror.
The sheets and blankets of the bed were stained red with blood. I was rarely taken with a desire to pray, but right then and there, I wanted to drop to my knees for Mother and pray to God to take away the pain that tortured her so. I felt suddenly and unreasonably like it was all my fault. I the monster had been inflicting pain on the beautiful, and now Mother was hurting for it, almost as if she were somehow the butterfly.
Adam, Father, released Mother’s hand when he saw me. He walked across the room and knelt so that our faces were inches apart. Azura began to bustle here and there, attempting uselessly to busy herself in helping Mother.
“We’re losing another one.” He whispered quietly, as if Mother didn’t already know, weren’t already mourning the dead body bleeding inside her. As if Mother weren’t a living grave for the snatch of time before she gave “birth”.
I didn’t speak, merely waiting. He had a command for me. Father never spoke to me unless he had a command.
“Fetch me a blade,” he growled under his breath.
---
In less than a minute I was back with the only blade we owned, a small plow. “Abel’s got a steadier hand than either of us,” Father said. I’d burst into the room out of breath and gasping for air, insisting that I could still help, but Father took the blade and gave it to Abel with trembling fingers, his nerves shot.
He didn’t even cut the cord himself. Instead, he stood back, his face a mixture of fear and shame. I remembered then something he’d told me long ago, about that first day outside the garden, how God had told Mother that every baby that would ever be born was going to bring great pain to its mother.
Life always begins with pain.
We come into the world inflicting cruelty on the one who will teach us how to stand on our own, how to walk and speak and live. Screaming, we emerge from our mother’s womb surrounded by tired faces just relieved that you are alive enough to cry. Is it merciful or harsh to die as you are born? I couldn’t decide.
The baby was miscarried within minutes of my arrival, making me feel once more like the harbinger of bad luck. That whole side of the house had seemed to be stained with blood, even the floor surrounding the bed. In front of Mother, legs covered by a sheet so that only her feet were visible, the baby had lain still as stone at the foot of the bed.
Abel then quickly and cleanly cut through the little rope of wet, red flesh that connected Mother to the infant. And that had been that. For a moment time had seemed to stop, leaving the five of us frozen to the spot. A life had left the world. Perhaps that is the greatest cruelty of all, a life never lived. I knew it hurt mother to lose her baby far more than the trifling pain of the child’s emergence.
Adam ran to Mother and the two collapsed into each other’s arms, sobbing. Abel stumbled outside stiff and numb, plow still in hand. Azura tenderly and quietly picked up the little corpse and began to wrap it an extra blanket.
I merely fell to my knees, wishing God had granted me the mercy of a stillborn death.
---
We held the funeral at dusk. Nine of us gathered to remember the life that never was. I stood between Azura and Abel, my head full and sick and sad with memories of Mother’s miscarriage. She was the only one not present. I hadn’t seen her since father had pushed me out of the house.
Far from the house and the farm, near the eastern edge of the valley, Abel and I had dug a little circle of a grave, a hungry mouth expectant for its next meal. Fear was seizing me. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was afraid of the little pit we’d dug. The baby was already resting at its apex, wrapped as before in a swathing of blankets. I knew death wouldn’t be sated this once, just like the last baby hadn’t been enough. It wanted more. Mother, Father, Azura, me. Abel. Part of me wanted more, too. I wanted to die, and take them all down with me, leading humanity stumbling into its waiting tomb. It was in our skin. As certain as we knew we’d been born, we were assured that death was coming.
Just standing on the edge of the round little hole, the dirt on the edges crumbling in my toes, I felt the fear and hatred growing in me. A gentle breeze whipped the air, sweeping a loch of hair into my eyes. Brushing it aside with my fingers, I glanced at the seven gathered around me. All my brothers and sisters, staring ahead solemnly and patiently. I wondered what they thought about all this. I also wondered if they blamed me.
The grave for this baby was right next to the old. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the old, a raised mound of grass topped with a rough little stone to mark it. It was blanketed in flowers. Even though they didn’t understand the significance of what they were doing, some of the younger children would still came out here and drape messy bouquets of dandelions and daisies all over the little mound. Whatever freshly picked flowers didn’t find their way into our beautiful mother’s hands wound up here, where they would wither into the dirt just like the child resting underneath them.
All of us were waiting. Father didn’t want to begin until Mother felt ready to come out, so the eight of us children formed a half circle, expectantly awaiting her arrival. The opening melodies of a sunset were beginning to float through the sky, a song that would strain into beautiful crescendos of brilliant orange and pink before it fell off into the deep baritone of night. I couldn’t help growing impatient. I didn’t want to be here long, not in front of the waiting grave, not standing next to Abel.
I could barely stand the younger boy. Pious, arrogant Abel, always so ready to help, jumping to do this that and whatever. My hatred for him was like the changing tides of the sea, sometimes rising, sometimes receding, but always there.
Worse, every time I glanced his way, he would glance back, and I would have to fight to keep from glaring. From birth, we’d never gotten along. We both tried, him possibly harder than I, but it just didn’t work. We were born enemies.
The tides were back today, leaving the beach dry and clean. Neither of us wanted to fight on a day like this. It almost disappointed me. I wanted a conflict, wanted to yell at him, blame him for the baby’s death, even though I knew it was ridiculous, I wanted someone to point my finger at, anyone smaller than God.
As I looked his way, I couldn’t help remembering the crisis that both of us had been caught up in just an hour earlier. It started with thoughts of the plow father had sent me to fetch. I could picture it too vividly in my head, stained with blood dried dark red, resting against the outer wall of the house. Despite its clumsy make, I was fascinated by the tool. Its round wooden handles were slippery and awkward, but I still longed to hold it tightly in my hand. It’s thick, oddly shaped blade was dull and could not cut well, but I still wanted desperately to hurt something with it to see what color juices came out.
It should have been me who used the plow. Could this mess be because of me? The guilt was getting to me. I needed someone to take it out on, a target for me to point a finger at.
I hated Abel, hated his steady hand, and his steady heart.
Standing next to him now, I hated him so much my chest grew tighter for it.. I forced myself to turn away, and focused on Azura instead. Quiet, beautiful Azura. She reminded me of mother so much, despite her green eyes and strawberry blond hair. There was a simple grace about her that demanded your attention. As I looked her way, she was focused on the house, watching for mother. After a moment, her eye found mine and a sympathetic smile erased all the dark, violent thoughts of Abel from my head.
It was growing darker as song of the heavens had exhausted itself. Now the brilliant colors overhead were beginning to fade. I kept my head towards the sky for a long time, knowing what I wanted to think about all that was happening. I almost thought I should feel guilty. There were so many dark, evil thoughts in my head, I wondered if I was somehow the cause of all the suffering, because of the way I hated my brother and secretly loved causing others pain.
A soft gasp drew me back towards the earth. Azura had seen something. Squinting towards the house, I noticed Mother had appeared at the doorway. In the weak dusk light, we could just barely make her out, a shadow walking ghostlike through the field separating us.
When the shadow arrived at the infantile cemetery, Adam went to her and took her hand. For a moment the two simply stood like that, quiet. Then Mother slipped her hand out of his and threw herself into his arms, burying her head in his chest. All of us could hear a muffled wailing split the silence, deep sobs wracking her chest.
After a few minutes Adam began to whisper to her too softly for me to hear, and then the two of them took each others’ hands again and joined our semicircle.
Adam commenced to speak loudly, as if giving a speech, his words stiff and mournful. He talked about how Zillah, the baby girl, was with God now. He talked about how God had made each of us, and knew our hearts. And he talked about how that same God was perfectly in control, but I didn’t listen to a word of it.
Sometimes I secretly suspected all Adam’s stories about being the first human and naming all the animals and eating that fruit were all just made up to keep us kids behaving. I thought that somehow there might be other people out in the world, maybe hundreds if not thousands of people. How could this whole wide world be completely empty except for us? I wanted to wander away and fine them, to find the place we’d truly come from.
As Adam rambled through his sermon, Abel and I were supposed to begin shoveling dirt into the grave. This was the worst part, the part I was afraid of. As I lifted one of our primitive, flimsy shovels to begin tossing displaced earth into the gaping mouth, my heartbeat began to quicken. Seeing Zillah up close was disturbing. Looking at her blanket shrouded body, I began to think about what it would be like to be wrapped in blankets myself.
I could imagine the feel of the course fabric pressing against my mouth as I try to scream, sense it squeezing tight around my dead limbs as I try to move. Dread filled me as I felt dirt hitting my face, more and more and more as my family buried me. The fear lent an urgency to my work, and I put my back into motion, attacking the loose soil with frenzied speed.
I was increasingly grateful I wasn’t dead. I didn’t ever want to die and be buried, and I didn’t ever want to know what lay on the other side. If there was another world waiting for us after we close our eyes for the last time, I wanted no part of it. God could have all the light in the universe if he left me this little patch of darkness here on Earth.
After a time, Adam’s voice trailed off into nowhere and the only sound filling the evening air was the rhythmic scraping of shovels. After a few minutes of silence, Azura began to cry very quietly. I thought I was the only one that could hear it, but after I heard a sniffle from behind me, I knew Eve had began to cry, too.
Finally after what seemed like an infinite spell of mechanical movement, we were done. Abel patted down the little mound of dirt with his shovel and that was that. Seasons would fly past, and grass would cover this place again. Flowers would smother it, as more children were born to bring flowers here with ignorant reverence. The smooth river stone we’d place atop it would grow pitted and weather-beaten and then soften again as it gathered moss.
Soon after Abel and I finished our work, the family began to disperse. Everyone was exhausted and sad, and not a one of us wanted to stay near the graves any longer than we had to.
Abel and I lingered for a little while longer. We just stared at each other, leaning on our shovels. Neither of us spoke. The silence and the night deepened. I don’t know why, but neither of us wanted to leave. Perhaps we both wanted to fight. I wanted to scream at him, because I felt it was my fault the baby died. If I’d been kinder, things would have been different. That was the thought racing through my head.
Yet at the same time, it was Abel's fault, not mine. He was the one who made me so angry. I knew I was being irrational, but I didn't care. With a loud clattering, I let my shovel fall to the ground, leaving it for him to pick up. I turned back to the house and began to walk away. As I strode across the field in the dead of night, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what it would be like to bury Abel.
Cain is being taken down temporarily. It'll be back up either this afternoon or evening. I'm going to be working on it like crazy over the next couple days and I don't want an outdated version up. If you already read it, you can probably see why it's going down for a little bit.
In the meantime, let me know what y'all think of the new look and the new sidebar features...the music and the news thingie...I'll add stuff to either one on request...
And...other writing is on the way, too, as soon as I can find the time to finish something coherent.
The printer here at school is all messed up. It printed my rough draft of Cain with black all along the left edge. I actually really like it. It looks cool. I need to break our printer at home so it does the same thing...
I'm making a stuffed mole in chemistry for extra credit. I'm not exactly sure how to make a mole, but I guess I'm going to have to find out...
Anyways, later llamas!
In the meantime, let me know what y'all think of the new look and the new sidebar features...the music and the news thingie...I'll add stuff to either one on request...
And...other writing is on the way, too, as soon as I can find the time to finish something coherent.
The printer here at school is all messed up. It printed my rough draft of Cain with black all along the left edge. I actually really like it. It looks cool. I need to break our printer at home so it does the same thing...
I'm making a stuffed mole in chemistry for extra credit. I'm not exactly sure how to make a mole, but I guess I'm going to have to find out...
Anyways, later llamas!
Monday, April 2, 2007
Hey...sorry for all the lame updates lately. I'm...working on stuff. Something WILL be up today, for sure. I'm working on two articles for Lifteyes, a few devotional blogs, and the same stories I've already mentioned. The final draft for chapter one of Cain may go up tonight, and if not, it'll be up by Thursday because it is due Thursday!!
Busy again. Not a fan of being busy. At least, not THIS busy.
I'd like to write some about the leadership class I'm taking, too. God has really been using it to provoke me...
That's all I got for now. I just didn't like having such lame blogs up without some sort of disclaimer.
And...without further ado...
I'm going to leave.
Busy again. Not a fan of being busy. At least, not THIS busy.
I'd like to write some about the leadership class I'm taking, too. God has really been using it to provoke me...
That's all I got for now. I just didn't like having such lame blogs up without some sort of disclaimer.
And...without further ado...
I'm going to leave.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Here's my visual DNA thing. It's funny...I picked the least gross of the "That's Gross" and it tells me I wouldn't be caught dead with someone who isn't perfectly fashionable.
I did a myspace survey, too. For some reason myspace won't let me post it. Or else I just posted it like eight times and can't see it.
What would you rather be called?
01. Babe or baby:
Either would be weird right now.
02. Sweetie or Honey:
Either, I spose.
03. Darling or Sunshine:
^
PRESENTLY-
01. is your hair wet?:
--Nay beans.
02. is your cell phone right by you?:
--Nope. Not even sure where it is.
03. do you miss someone?:
--Mmhmm.
04. are you wearing chap stick?:
--Men don't need chapstick. Cracked, dry lips are more masculine.
05. are you tired?:
--I am so energetic I would run with the bulls right now.
06. are you excited?:
--I hope I don't depress the bulls when I outrun them and stop to buy coffee.
07. are you watching tv?:
--TV is of the devil. Actually, there's just nothing good on.
08. are you wearing pajamas?:
--Not this time!!
HAVE YOU-
01. recently done anything you regret?:
--Meh.
02. ever lied?:
--Never. *winks from under halo*
03. ever stuck gum under a desk?:
--No!!! I hate it when people do that!!
04. ever kicked someone?:
--soccer balls everywhere hate me.
05. ever tripped over your own feet?:
--My feet, my toes, my shoes, carpet, tile, you name it, I'm clumsy enough to trip over it.
TODAY-
01. have you cursed?:
--Nope.
02. have you yelled at someone?:
--I think, but I was joking.
03. have you gotten mad at someone?:
--Nar.
Q: is there a person who is on your mind right now?
A: Several.
Q: do you have any siblings?:
A: Yup. One younger sister.
Q: do you want children?
A: Indeed. I need an apprentice.
Q: do you smile often?
A: Mmhmm.
Q: do you wish on stars?
A: Only when Jiminy Cricket tells me to.
Q: do you untie your shoes every time you take them off?
A: No. I always slide them off. Or wear flip flops.
Q: when did you last cry?
A: It's been awhile.
Q: do you like your handwriting?
A: I do. It's not a popular opinion.
Q: are your toenails painted?
A: Yes, because THAT is masculine for sure.
Q: are you a friendly person?
A: I try to be! I like talking to people and stuff...
Q: who's bed did you sleep in last night?
A: I put the Queen of England on the couch and borrowed her bed for a night.
Q: what color shirt are you wearing?
A: brown.
Q: do you have any pets?
A: A dog and lots of fish. I would probably have way more but my parents won't let us have more than that.
Q: what were you doing at 6pm last night?
A: Turning into a pumpkin. My fairy godmother lives in England.
Q: i can't wait until:
A: New Attitude! Spiderman 3! Chad Birthday Pancake Extravaganza! My April Party Pack! Summer! Lots of things!
Q: is tom on your friends list?
A: He was for awhile but I finally took him off a few months ago.
Q: look to your right what do you see?
A: Carpet, a suitcase, one of my nightstands.
Q: ever cried on your friend's shoulder?
A: Nope.
I did a myspace survey, too. For some reason myspace won't let me post it. Or else I just posted it like eight times and can't see it.
What would you rather be called?
01. Babe or baby:
Either would be weird right now.
02. Sweetie or Honey:
Either, I spose.
03. Darling or Sunshine:
^
PRESENTLY-
01. is your hair wet?:
--Nay beans.
02. is your cell phone right by you?:
--Nope. Not even sure where it is.
03. do you miss someone?:
--Mmhmm.
04. are you wearing chap stick?:
--Men don't need chapstick. Cracked, dry lips are more masculine.
05. are you tired?:
--I am so energetic I would run with the bulls right now.
06. are you excited?:
--I hope I don't depress the bulls when I outrun them and stop to buy coffee.
07. are you watching tv?:
--TV is of the devil. Actually, there's just nothing good on.
08. are you wearing pajamas?:
--Not this time!!
HAVE YOU-
01. recently done anything you regret?:
--Meh.
02. ever lied?:
--Never. *winks from under halo*
03. ever stuck gum under a desk?:
--No!!! I hate it when people do that!!
04. ever kicked someone?:
--soccer balls everywhere hate me.
05. ever tripped over your own feet?:
--My feet, my toes, my shoes, carpet, tile, you name it, I'm clumsy enough to trip over it.
TODAY-
01. have you cursed?:
--Nope.
02. have you yelled at someone?:
--I think, but I was joking.
03. have you gotten mad at someone?:
--Nar.
Q: is there a person who is on your mind right now?
A: Several.
Q: do you have any siblings?:
A: Yup. One younger sister.
Q: do you want children?
A: Indeed. I need an apprentice.
Q: do you smile often?
A: Mmhmm.
Q: do you wish on stars?
A: Only when Jiminy Cricket tells me to.
Q: do you untie your shoes every time you take them off?
A: No. I always slide them off. Or wear flip flops.
Q: when did you last cry?
A: It's been awhile.
Q: do you like your handwriting?
A: I do. It's not a popular opinion.
Q: are your toenails painted?
A: Yes, because THAT is masculine for sure.
Q: are you a friendly person?
A: I try to be! I like talking to people and stuff...
Q: who's bed did you sleep in last night?
A: I put the Queen of England on the couch and borrowed her bed for a night.
Q: what color shirt are you wearing?
A: brown.
Q: do you have any pets?
A: A dog and lots of fish. I would probably have way more but my parents won't let us have more than that.
Q: what were you doing at 6pm last night?
A: Turning into a pumpkin. My fairy godmother lives in England.
Q: i can't wait until:
A: New Attitude! Spiderman 3! Chad Birthday Pancake Extravaganza! My April Party Pack! Summer! Lots of things!
Q: is tom on your friends list?
A: He was for awhile but I finally took him off a few months ago.
Q: look to your right what do you see?
A: Carpet, a suitcase, one of my nightstands.
Q: ever cried on your friend's shoulder?
A: Nope.
"Clear this room from your lungs..."
Hey.
It's weird being home today. I'm used to spending Sundays out, but I wound up coming home around 2:30 today. It's been nice, though. I needed the time to work on some homework. The final draft for Cain should be up soon. Chapter one, anyways. I may also post the first bit of Atom soon...that story is going to be slightly insane, I'm thinking.
Today has been interesting. Overall, my spring break has been great...
My hands smell like play-doh. I got to play with play-doh today for the first time since I was like 7. In children's ministry, we played with play-doh... We wound up mixing all the colors and creating all these crazy tie die colors...and then black. When all the colors mix more and more, you just wind up with this nasty black. It's really gross. We made all the play-doh gross today. I hope nobody minds...I don't know, maybe I'll buy more...
AND I dressed up like a cow. Again. I also found out today I'm really good at giving piggyback rides and really bad at dressing people up in penguin costumes.
Okay, I was going to say a lot more and even post something from my journal but I have to go pick up my sister...
It's weird being home today. I'm used to spending Sundays out, but I wound up coming home around 2:30 today. It's been nice, though. I needed the time to work on some homework. The final draft for Cain should be up soon. Chapter one, anyways. I may also post the first bit of Atom soon...that story is going to be slightly insane, I'm thinking.
Today has been interesting. Overall, my spring break has been great...
My hands smell like play-doh. I got to play with play-doh today for the first time since I was like 7. In children's ministry, we played with play-doh... We wound up mixing all the colors and creating all these crazy tie die colors...and then black. When all the colors mix more and more, you just wind up with this nasty black. It's really gross. We made all the play-doh gross today. I hope nobody minds...I don't know, maybe I'll buy more...
AND I dressed up like a cow. Again. I also found out today I'm really good at giving piggyback rides and really bad at dressing people up in penguin costumes.
Okay, I was going to say a lot more and even post something from my journal but I have to go pick up my sister...
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