It has become a habit for me and Rio to jot down random thoughts that show either how cool our thought processes can be or just how lame we really are underneath our well-guarded facades (Usually, it’s the latter.). The Overlord has permitted joined us in this week’s compilation of random thoughts and weird conversations with the self and more preferably, with another person. So, here goes…
Thoughts are pretty much like falling stars; they occur almost always randomly, they are there then they aren’t, and most people think there is some measure of wonder in them. The fleetingness of random thoughts is where its magic holds, I think, and for that reason Rica and I have resolved to record some of our random thoughts. It may be so we can alleviate some of the boredom (meaning we’re attempting to convince ourselves that our lives are not boring in our heads at least), so we can put some seemingly pointless thoughts in order to find some sort of pattern in our mental processes, or maybe it’s so we can try to invent a sort of magic for ourselves. At any rate, we’ve collected our random thoughts for the week (the ones we could catch) and posted them here.
FICTION posted by Karl
I spent the better part of the day looking for musical frog parts. All I really needed to complete the last LeGrand high gynerator was a lyric spleen, but it never hurts to have an ample stock of extra highstrings and xylobones. Allen would have been proud of me had he been there to see me expertly pluck each usable part from every frogthing I caught.
FICTION posted by Rio S.
He put his katana back in its sheath. Surveying the remnants of the carnage around him, he wiped his brow and walked back to the battlemaster. He grinned, the last one had let out a scream as guts spilled on the grass. He has bounty to collect and what a bounty it was.
FICTION posted by Rica
I live with The Omen. So far she hasn’t done anything that would eventually become a catalyst toward world destruction. She’s one lazy devil. A literal one. But, you have to understand, even if The Omen hasn’t moved her ass off that huge creepy red throne of hers, I’m pretty sure we’ll all be headed to her queendome soon enough.
Dibs on Apartment A.
It’s not a privilege, by the way. It just so happens I’m her sister, so this is a favor. And it’s a huge curse, I tell you. Imagine… hell. Bonfires are at the bottom level. The big kind of bonfires that you’d only typically use during the burning of a witch. Imagine the fire’s taller than you if you stand beside it, and the you’ll feel as if the fire’s seeping under your skin and burning your insides first.
That kind of bonfire.
more…
FICTION posted by Rio S.
She woke up and readied herself for work.
She went into the office with a smile on her face.
She worked.
She logged out on the office attendance sheet.
She hailed a cab.
She greeted the doorman and went straight to her flat.
She was happy, she could almost hear them say.
She laughed.
FICTION posted by Rica
She gets in her car, or waves at a cab. She drives herself to work, or lets the cab driver drop her in front of her office. She doesn’t take a lift but feels the elevator doors close. She waits five minutes to make sure gravity won’t pull her down again. She gets out and faces another day in her box. Boxed office. Box office. She feels a tightness in her chest; she feels she’s being watched again. Box office. Boxed office.
Just a third of my day, she tells herself. And she feels old again.
She smells her coffee. She wakes up but closes her eyes again. She’s dreaming the day away. She’s starting her day right. She takes a sip and opens her eyes. She sees what’s on her desk, not what’s in front of her. She switches her life on, but the monitor won’t open. She adjusts the cables at the back. more…
FICTION Posted by Rica
Seeing Taal makes her remember Romy Diaz in his contrabida roles, wearing a robe, so early in the goddang morning.
Puffing. Smoke.
Everything’s hazy again.
Must be fog.
She’s sure it’s not smog. She doesn’t want to go back to the city.
For now.
She sees lines – or waves. Or wavy lines. Or…
She’s not thinking straight.
Again.
And again.
Her eyes feel heavy so early in the morning.
No, she’s not tired.
Not yet.
It’s just dawn, and she’s looking at the lake.
“Oh”, she says, as she wipes her tears away.
Again. And again.
FICTION posted by Mai
“Mind yourself now,” his wife called out when he slowly pulled out the car from the garage. “And take care of yourself!”
“Yeah, I will,” he answered through the rolled-down car window. As soon as the car was properly positioned by the road outside, he beckoned to his wife for a good-bye kiss. “Take care, too. And thanks for the present. I’ll use it. My word.”
“And control yourself, beloved,” she whispered against his ear.
“Yeah. I promise.” He drove off happily, and in slightly good sprits. The present in question, an unopened pot of peppermint-scented potpourri taped to the leather dashboard, waiting to be given proper acknowledgement. The man turned on the radio and listened to his MP3 player, whose playlist was altered by his wife, who deemed the song selection as too ‘provocative’. His lip slightly curled in distaste when he found out that his wife had inserted a couple of Simon and Garfunkle songs, which he promptly skipped with a deft flick of his finger.
“Goddamn b…graah,” he groaned and gritted his teeth in a great effort to stop himself from cursing loudly. He promised his wife. I promised. “Emo of the sixties, they are,” he grudgingly blurted out, frustrated and at the same time relieved that he was able to voice out his aversion without breaking his word. more…
FICTION posted by Rem
“In the face of true love, you don’t just give up even if the object of your affection is begging you to…”
I forgot where I heard this quip…it could be from Chuck Bass or from Lucas Scott, heck maybe even from Dawson Leery. Perhaps this naive and somewhat valiant way of looking at true love occupied my mind as I traversed the long and pothole-ridden roads of the north that led me to the disaster that is you, my dear Alex.
I’ve heard rumors and talks about how you felt about me, about the possibility of an “us”. At the same time, I also heard discouragement from very concerned friends who said that I’m basically committing emotional suicide; that by going to where you are I’m actually entering the deepest, innermost circle of hell. Though I heard them all, I chose to listen to the rumors and talks – the rest I treated as white noise – you hear it, but it is nothing but minute and insignificant. more…
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