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Blurty for kaleidoscope kat.
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| Wednesday, June 16th, 2004 |
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I want to sing/dance/laugh/prance/feel/romance/tou I want to cook/eat/invent/sweet/nothings I want to run/jump/walk/skip/hop/s t r e t c h My wings and fly away I want to see/hear/understand/love I want to dream/excite/come to a decision I want to be/me/grow/show/what? To who and where and when. I want I want I want I want I don't know what I want |
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| Wednesday, August 6th, 2003 |
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| Wouldn't it be grand if the world was upside-down, so walking into a room would require you to step over the thing above the door, and built-in cupboard's knobs would be higher up or if it was the sliding mirror ones, you wouldn't be able to see your feet and you would never be able to hang your hats on the hat rack because they face downwards, and if you tried to water flowers you would have to stand to one side so it wouldn't rain on you, and the birds would have to dodge tree trunks and you'd never be hit by bird poo because it would fall back onto themselves and all their eggs would fall out of their nests, and you could climb under fences and street signs would 'hang' instead of stand and coke machines would be banned because the cans would fall out and hit you on the head and you'd have to turn the water on to the max so it would fly high enough to hit you in the shower, and opening chip packets the wrong way would be the right way and noone would want to do the right thing and put their rubbish in the bin because they'd have to pick up all the rubbish that fell out, and clothes would still hang the right side up because of gravity but only your head would be covered in change rooms, and we wouldn't have to feel guilty about "walking with your head in the clouds" meaning we were wasting our time or living in a dream. | ||||||
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| Sunday, August 3rd, 2003 |
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"I have no friends." sniffed Mould Away - for bathroom mould NET 250g. "You spawned me! And because of you, I also have no friends!" cried Mould Away - for bathroom mould - travel size Net 100g vehemently. |
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| Sunday, July 27th, 2003 |
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Last night I tried to count sheep, but it just wasn't happening for me. They were so annoyingly uncooperative. Prancing around everwhere, mindlessly baa-ing their woolly heads off. This big ugly one with a scar near its left eye, nipped another on the tail and ran off, leaving a chunk of wool lying on the grass, which another sheep rambled up to and promptly swallowed. My head was throbbing from the din they were making, and it was getting too dizzying trying to make them do what I wanted. Not to mention they stank. It took forever to coach them through the gate (i'd given up trying to get them to jump the mandatory fence). By the time the last stragglers were through, I was so exhausted I ended up falling straight to sleep. |
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| Friday, July 4th, 2003 |
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"How terrible is the weather!" the lobster did exclaim. He sat on his pile of sand, looking very perplexed. "Were you expecting an answer to that?" enquired the clam, that rested nearby. "It would make no difference, if you were to answer me or not." "As the weather would still be terrible." finished off the clam. The lobster muttered "Thats quite right, dear clam, thats quite right." There was a pause as the lobster continued to vex silently, and the clam wondered if his existence was forgotten momentarily. "Have you been anywhere interesting of late?" he piped, as a passing crab scuttled from under a rock. The crab stopped in its tracks, "Pardon?" she frowned. "I'm sorry, I was addressing the lobster." "Ah... well then i should hurry along, good day." The clam watched the crab disappear amongst a pile of rocks, and returned to watching the lobster, who seemed oblivious to what had just come to pass. "Ahem." he coughed. The lobster remained engrossed with whatever it was that was perplexing him, his antennae waving, somewhat agitated, his eye stalks swivelling aimlessly. "Ahem." coughed the clam again, and open and shut his shell as emphasis at which the lobster looked up. "Do you suppose," he said slowly, "that it could be due to all this water that lies around?" and he waggled a claw accusingly. "Perhaps, if you are referring to the weather." the clam said thoughtfully. "But if you were not, then I wouldn't have any idea." "Then it has to be the wind!" The lobster danced a little dance and wiggled its eye stalks wildly. "What has to be the wind?" The crab had just returned from her business within the rocks, and had decided to stop by to join the discussion. "The terrible weather." quipped the clam, and eyed the crab in interest, as she looked rather intelligent. "I see." She waved her eye stalks knowingly in their direction and raised a claw. "In my opinion," she observed, "In my opinion," she said again. The lobster stared at the crab, awaiting her reply, and tapped impatiently in the sand, which scattered some particles in the clams direction, but he did not mind. "In my opinion," she said again, and paused, then leaned in closer and whispered confidentially, "It has nothing to do with the wind," and here she opened her eyes dramatically before continuing, "And all, to do with the fish!" she triumphantly finished. "Aha! My thoughts exactly!" cried the old lobster, and danced another dance on his pile of sand. The poor clam was quite confused. "I don't think I see the relation?" But the other two were too wrapped up in their revelation to notice, and quite forgot to bid the clam goodbye. But he didnt mind, and watched as the other two scuttled off excitedly in separate directions. |
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| Monday, June 30th, 2003 |
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"Freddy don't look at it! Don't!" "I can't help it... it's pulling me... it's calling my name... I have to go to it..." "Don't Freddy!" sobbed Angeline, "Don't leave me! Papa followed it and look what happened! I don't want to lose you too, please Freddie!" She tugged frantically at him, but it was no use, he was bigger than her, and her plea's seemed to have no effect. "Must... go... to it..." As if in a daze, Freddy floated upward, all he could see was the translucent beauty of that hypnotic, blinding light. His mind was clear, whilst everything else around him was a blur. He faintly heard crying in the background somewhere, and felt the slightest tug, but nothing could stop him as he rose towards his destiny. "Freddy!" Angeline clung pitifully to Freddy, she held him close with all her arms and all of her heart, but it was useless, and through her tears, she realised that there was no hope, and at that point, something died inside her. The despair rose in her throat and when she opened her mouth, it floated free... a half strangulated, silent cry of pain, and she watched as it flew upward and dispersed into wisps that seemed to grow wings and fly with the one she had finally let go. And she did not know if she was dreaming or not. He became a tiny fleck as he rose higher and higher, and still he was clear to her eyes, she could not tear them away, and numbly, as her eyes followed his ascent, she saw in all its glory, the light that Freddy had promised his soul to. Time seemed to suddenly wind to a halt, and Angeline's eyes flickered once, as a shower of brilliant feather-like sparks rained down and covered the world above her. She watched as these pieces of fantasy drifted towards her and all else was forgotten... Freddy, her father, her home... everything she had ever known left her, and all she could think of were the beautiful flecks of magic that surrounded her and called to her in angel's voices. Slowly, she began to drift upward, floating on the caresses, lulled by the sweet voices that sang to her, a loving song full of dreams. Higher and higher, until, a blinding light, a flash of pain. and then it was over. ~~~ Fly away, Fly, oh fly away, do not look, shield your eyes, the fluroescent blue light, is your saviour and your doom, fly away, Fly, oh Fly, fly away. |
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| Thursday, June 26th, 2003 |
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i would like to be a bubble bouncing on the breeze floating hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh like a jelly fish with no legs |
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| Wednesday, June 11th, 2003 |
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"You strangled my mother!" cried the Black Rose, "And for that I will have my revenge!" "Ha ha!" sneered the Poison Ivy, "Let me see you try!" "You will go down!" roared the Black Rose. "I will do unto you, what I did unto your mother!" spat the Poison Ivy. And with that, a terrible, silent battle ensued, lasting many a season, as the Black Rose grew brave thorns that reached out to pierce, and the Poison Ivy stretched stealthy fingers that sought to strangle. |
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Friday, March 28, 2003 xanga blog i ate this cheese once but i dont know what it was called. it was a big white circle. and when you cut it into cake slices.. the inside was a really light yellow colour. and it was very soft.. a beautiful creamy softness that will allow it to droop if you hold it long enough. and then i took a bite.. and it tasted like nothing at all... coz it was so soft and creamy and creamy and soft.. but the crust was yummy. it was white and bouncy and rubbery and i couldnt quite pinpoint its taste. i nibbled on that for a while, til the whole thing got too sickening and i had to chuck away that piece of cheese that had no name. i was really happy that i tried a new cheese, and raved to my sister about it afterwards, especially about the yummy crust. and then i found out that my favourite part of the cheese was the wax coating. ugh. but yum. :) |
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| Sunday, June 8th, 2003 |
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| "Oh God you've given it a name... Now it's Real..." | ||||
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| Saturday, June 7th, 2003 |
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Writing Exercise College, Oct 2002 Write two recipes, in any style - keeping in mind it has to be legitimate cookbook material. How To Humanely Prepare An Orange Without Circulating Bad Karma What you will need: Chosen Orange 1. Pet the Orange, stroke the Orange, GET TO KNOW the Orange. 2. Thoughtfully contemplate the Orange's life. 3. Holding up at eye level, explain through sincere eye contact, to the Orange, what you propose to do. 4. Obtain Orange's consent. 5. Give Orange some time to let the information sink in. 6. Pray. 7. When the time comes, approach the Orange, solemnly, respectfully. 8. With one last nod, slice Orange accordingly, and lovingly arrange on plate. 9. Humbly savour each piece and Be Thankful. *Optional 10. Save and plant a seed in remembrance of the Orange. |
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Writing Exercise College, Oct 2002 Write two recipes, in any style - keeping in mind it has to be legitimate cookbook material. Avoocadoo on Crackers You will need: an avocado some crackers (like Salada) some toothpicks You want revenge? Well forget real voodoo.. this is the real deal. Firstly, surprise your avocado. Wake it from its slumber in the arms of some vegetable.. the bastard.. then hold it up to your face, and tell it "I'm not afraid of you!!" If it tries to roll away, grab it and hold it under the tap, which you would already have running. A good throttle and a dunk should leave it stunned enough for you to - Slam it down on the chopping board! Show it who's boss! Tower over the avocado while menacingly waving a kitchen knife, and before it has time to recover, drive the utensil right into its soft centre, slitting all around the seed long-ways. Gloat over ripping the fruit apart, separating the two halves. And really enjoy taking out the heart of the fruit, that seedy looking stone.. Who knew it could be so cold? So cold.. Leave the avocado to one side, it won't be going anywhere in its state. Its time to turn your attention onto the crackers. These stiff biscuits think they're so hard, when really, they are just an easily crushed plain cracker. It doesn't take much to snap their perforated edges. And thats exactly what you're going to do. Break them in. When they are all isolated pieces and fragments of what they once were, its time to finish what you started. Slowly, meticulously, scoop out the avocado flesh from its shell, leering as you spread generously onto the crackers. Do this until all that is left of the avocado is a sad, empty husk. Scornfully place onto a plate, not forgetting to smirk. Lastly, spear those little crackers with some toothpicks, where it hurts! Go on! At this point, whether you choose to eat them or stamp on them, is really up to you, the damage has been done, and revenge, exacted. |
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Writing Exercise College, Oct 2002 A piece of writing to evoke emotion in the reader (based on personal experience) It’s like a cycle. It never ends. The pain, the confusion, the frustration. Always harmless, sweet and innocent, it begins. You talk, you laugh, you relate, together. Content. Happy. Somewhere along the jesting and smiling, something pricks, seeping hatefully, quiet and sneaky. Words become thorns, sharp and cruel imbedding themselves painfully, deeply... to find their place amongst the others... It’s always the same, you’ve been through it before, there is nothing left to say. But the scars, the scars they show the pain. Lest we forget. Swirling despair, confusion, hopelessness. It’s like a cycle. A vicious cycle. |
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Writing Exercise College, Oct 2002 Synopsis Thing - (write a piece that makes reader want to watch movie) In The Family Dark and twisted tale following the initiation of a thirteen year old girl into womanhood. Jamie is a striking adolescent with haunting features, whose innocence remains untouched despite her incestuous relationship with her father. Her love for him is pure and he takes advantage of this so that Jamie grows up not knowing anything aside her ‘norm’. The relationship continues in secrecy until Jamie develops feelings for her uncle and displays her affections the only way she has been taught - with sexual advances. The secret leaks when her father becomes increasingly jealous of Jamie’s growing affections and tries to win her back. A deadly contest ensues between the two brothers, with Jamie caught up as the object of their indecent desires. The demise of this entangled love triangle is tempered with the sad fact that Jamie’s mother remains oblivious to the whole situation, yet ends up suffering alongside her daughter. |
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Writing Exercise College, Oct 2002 Describe the whole experience from picking up the pack to swallowing the first tingle. Sniff sniff, mmm... sweet tingle smell... Scratch scratch... shiny crunchy foil edges... Time to unravel, uncrunch, get it in a perfect circle. SENSUOUSLY peel in a circular motion... Ooh, it’s green! It’s dusty but the sunken middle bit is shiny. Feel its shine. Play with the tingle. Fingertips fit perfectly you know. Mmm... sweet sugar tingle smell. Chew chew and strategically banish gum to south-west corner of your mouth. Wedge safely. & POP! Mmm... suck suck fizzle fizzle yummy scrummy fruit tingle *dribble* |
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| Thursday, June 5th, 2003 |
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"You know, if you're not careful, you'll end up like one of them." The Porcelain Doll raised a perfectly painted eyebrow at the frog statuette that sat precariously on the edge of the shelf. "What do you mean 'one of them?'" The Bean Bag Frog stared up at the doll quizzically. "If you're not careful, if you let yourself be played with too much, you'll end up all old and torn and dirty, like them." The Porcelain Doll sniffed haughtily in the direction of the Others that lay in the corner of the room. "What's wrong with ending up like one of them anyway? They have so much fun..." "Who wants to be manhandled and thrown around?!" snorted the Porcelain Doll. "Trust me, you don't want to be like one of them... the poor fools. Look at them. What shred of dignity is left after you've been poked and prodded and flung around all day?" The Bean Bag Frog sighed wistfully, "I guess you do have a point Porcelain Doll, but it gets so lonely sitting up here." "Sit up here?" The Porcelain Doll glared down at the Bean Bag Frog pointedly, "We don't sit up here! We stand proudly on display! You are lucky to be amongst us, given your stuffing, you're lucky to be spared the other, less fortunate life." "Pah!" Scoffed the Tin Soldier who was listening in. "What would you know? You're just jealous because you're too fragile to play with! They get to go on wild adventures with the Child and at the very least, can expect something new everyday!" The Porcelain Doll dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Thats just your opinion. What would a common tin soldier know anyway." "I happen to be made in France for your information, and am worth quite a lot! You are are just like the rest of your kind, snotty nosed -" "Keep your barbaric thoughts to yourself." The Porcelain Doll cut in. The Tin Soldier glowered "Yeah, and you go back to collecting dust." With that they turned their backs on eachother, and the Bean Bag Frog was left to his own thoughts, as he stared down from the top shelf in silence. |
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| Wednesday, June 4th, 2003 |
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Out of loneliness you are created. Fed on my undying love do you grow. Tentatively, delicately molded, until you are perfect. Glowing. A shimmering spectacle - dare I say - collection - of every thought, every dream and every memory of what i have ever been or wished to be. In you I pour my heart and soul. More intimately than my own do I know you. How tenderly I caress you. I dont mind the silence. I don't mind that you feed indifferently on my love and pain, joys and hurts. Because that is how you came into being, growing on my laughter and my tears. Til with a sigh you are plucked from my arms, controlled, timed, yet always too soon. Our bond severed, suddenly dwindling to a single fleeting whisper, a memory... Not even a goodbye. You will never remember, you were not made to. And I remain forgotten, in my place, because The world is your oyster. And I am but a clam. |
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They climb atop my sagging shoulders, armoured legs too numb to feel on my flaking, waving skin, clamouring aimlessly for lost hope, in the decaying silence in which we are all held. A half dozen more mirror reflections (are they real?) sink dejected alongside me. All lost, forgotten, faceless, united in our differences as we await the same fate, as those before us, and those before them. Endless... Endless silence... Endless waiting... Behind the glass, unbreakable, we watch, but we are broken. ~~~ "sik yuu ah ... ai yah mo sik loong ha lo, guay ah ... hai peng go ... sarm bong la but yee ... yut til, ching jing lo ... " For all you losers who dont speak chinese: "lets have fish ... god no not the lobster, expensive ... crabs cheaper ... how about three pounds ... one fish, steamed ..." |
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Sunday, May 04, 2003 Genre: Science Fiction Title: Galactical Invasion 501 of Planet Xyborgaq "Captain!! The fogatron mega-tonne has ceased to throttle at speed temp 45 - what do we do, Sir?!" "Altitude?" "147 east bound at 86 neo seconds, heading right at star pearl ZR, double zoom, Sir!" Captain Tailgate paused to stroke his bristly red beard as his thick fiery eyebrows knitted together in deep concentration. The jittery lower level shipboy Zef, hovered nervously by his side. "Have the back up fogatrons been recharged since the last zequib evacuation?" "No Sir!! We couldn't recharge due to gamma spark shortage -" "Substitute with the hyper-freeze zap tanks." "Can't Sir!! Used up the last hyper-freeze tank during -" "WELL FIQVA DAMMIT DON'T GIVE ME EXCUSES, FIND A REASON OR YOUR ASS IS FRYING WITH THE CRETHAN -" "Oh relax, Gate.." Lady Taf Nexa uncrossed her emerald green legs lazily and waved her six fingered hand at the tendrils of smoke that were rapidly escaping the frustrated captain's third nostril. "Take it easy for once, Gate, getting so worked up isnt going to do anything for our ship.." Captain Tailgate's nostril erupted in some more smoke as if to pronounce his growing resentment at the beautiful yet dangerously irritating female Sleetsaj that perched herself on the arm of his chair. The characteristic mass of glossy yet deadly blades that grew from her conical head like hair, typical of her race, tinkered dangerously close to his right arm. It didnt help that he was unwillingly attracted to her long sinuous body, smooth and naked, except for fine glistening blades that covered her entirely, invisible until they flared out, sharp and murderous, usually too late, for an unsuspecting enemy victim, to catch. "For Fiqva's sake, Taf! How the hell are we going to continue on our mission if we even -" "Oh Gate, being blasphemous isn't going to help either." Lady Taf Nexa's large piercing green eyes burrowed into Captain Tailgate's resilient fiery red ones, as the temperature in the spaceden flickered and rose. |
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Saturday, May 03, 2003 Genre: Romance Title: Frogmarch Daisies And so she sat, amongst the wild daisies, her modest baby blue checkered cotton skirt puffing around her long white stockinged legs and dainty white closed toe buckled sandals. Twirling her strawberry blonde ringlets idly, to pass the time until her sweet lover would come home. Home from the war torn nation that was Zimbabwe, where the rivers ran red with the blood of a thousand fold brave young men. Fantasising the very moment he would appear, leaping across the ivy strangled picket fence, "Millie my love! Millie, I'm home!!" But she knew it 'twere only a daydream, sweet upon the sugar and spice of her daily humdrum life as a humble cotten farmer's youngest daughter of seven. Oh how her heart fluttered at the thought of being in her sweet darling's arms once more, to feel his soft lips in a kiss upon her forehead, and to be encircled in those strong, safe, tanned arms. Oh if only, if only, he did not have to go! |
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Blurty for kaleidoscope kat.
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lonely.
hopeful.
thoughtful.
high.
gloomy.