Skip to main content

B is for Small Thoughts

Gratitude:  
We search for it. We yearn to receive it. But how many of us actually give it?

Godtick: 
I have become the Godtick. I stay close. Under His skin. Call me a parasite. Call me a pain. Maybe. But... buried under His skin. I find... nutrients. And a glow. Maybe I let go now. Nah, I much prefer my host.

15 Minutes:
He pushes past. Past the yelling cars and the train wreck of screaming people. He sees the clouds. And the faintest scent of water tells him to walk... faster! Lord, he says. Lord! Just give me 15 minutes to get home. You know what happens when rain touches my skin. Still, the scent of rain grew closer. He runs. Faster. Dodging the first drop. And the third. And the fifth. And in 7 1/2 minutes he is inside. Just before hell was doused by the deluge. Why God. I asked for 15, he says panting. And yet, as you pushed yourself, came the reply, you realised... all you needed... was seven. Go change your clothes.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

B in Future Traditions

THE COPY: I was sitting down listening to Norah Jones’ “Come Away with Me” and I began to think about future traditions. I thought… I want to sway with someone. Sway with my lover. To this music. More than that, I want that when we had an argument (and we’d have those because she’d be stubborn and I’d be pig headed (iChuckle)) we would never go to bed angry. We’d pop open a lover’s CD like this one and just sway. We may be as mad as hell but we would sway because we would never want to go to bed angry. And our children would know this. And they would never allow their partners to go to bed angry either because… well, because they would know better. They would sway. They would know it was better to sway. That’s the kind of man I want to be. Moreover, that’s the kind of tradition I’d like to pass on. Future Traditions. What's Yours?

B is for Labels

He. She. It. Is. With. Out. Labels. And beyond that Is the stuff of fables. He. She. It. Is. Simply on the Earth Plain. Dealing with their own pains. And trying... To decipher yours. Because somewhere, in there, is a soul fighting wars. And they know, that to survive, they need yours. alive. So. He. She. It. Is.  Fighting for your life. As well. So hell. Fight for theirs! FIGHT for theirs!  Instead of crabbing up the barrel. Try to act more Supernatural. FIGHT for theirs. FIGHT for each other. There is simply no hope fighting each other. Please. Place all labels in he fire pit. Love is not a cliche when you understand it. He. She. It. Is.  Searching... Searching...  For you. For me. For Sanity. Don't hide your data stream. Crash into this sea of me. I will download you (no labels) You will download me (no labels) Till all of us is one with us  Like. The Divinity Three. No fussing....

B is for The Hand of Gordon (Act 5)

5. The driver egged him on. This was the third bad drive that Gordon received at the hand of the demon with the driver’s permit. But… neither the speed limit nor his attitude changed. The demon's finger went up again. Gordon smiled, again. He shook his head. The civility of his action denied a certain truth. Though Gordon considered himself long suffering, his hand held fast to a young blade should the speedster lose control of his car… and his mind. Yes, Gordon just smiled.