So, we're almost done here, can't say I didn't enjoy writing these things. I'll definitely be doing more drabble challenges in the future.
Anyway, onward!
Song.
“You open your mouth, like an asthma attack, you repeat,
“If all that you take from this is courage, then I’ve no regrets.”
He found her completely inspiring. Her personality had grown tenfold in only a matter of weeks after leaving her boyfriend. She was everything he thought she would be and more.
She was intelligent and serious, whimsical on her own terms.
If anything, he liked who she made him. She made him think.
He could honestly say he was a different person when he was around her.
Her thoughts were said aloud, no matter how honest or odd. Her emotions were hidden, but only below the surface.
He found himself speaking his own thoughts aloud.
If only to make her smile.
“Don’t settle for less again. You’ve become more than I could have become for you.”
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
11: Fighting For Nothing
Song.
“I’ve got my words. I hope they hurt you.
I hope they scar you. I hope they heal you."
“You think you can just come back after what you did?” He snarled across the kitchen table. He looked older, felt it too. Life hadn’t been kind to him recently. Or his home for that matter. Bottles littered the floor and table.
“What did I do that was terrible?” She snapped back. “I wanted a life,”
“What about me? You left me high and dry, you have no idea what it’s been like since you -”
“Then tell me,” She reached across the table and downed the last of his beer.
It was then he began to cry.
“Make you see that your hands you’re accounted for.
Pick and choose where your sweat and your blood will go.
Make you see your life’s not to be lived alone.
Run their spit through your hair, you’re worth nothing.
Nothing.”
“I’ve got my words. I hope they hurt you.
I hope they scar you. I hope they heal you."
“You think you can just come back after what you did?” He snarled across the kitchen table. He looked older, felt it too. Life hadn’t been kind to him recently. Or his home for that matter. Bottles littered the floor and table.
“What did I do that was terrible?” She snapped back. “I wanted a life,”
“What about me? You left me high and dry, you have no idea what it’s been like since you -”
“Then tell me,” She reached across the table and downed the last of his beer.
It was then he began to cry.
“Make you see that your hands you’re accounted for.
Pick and choose where your sweat and your blood will go.
Make you see your life’s not to be lived alone.
Run their spit through your hair, you’re worth nothing.
Nothing.”
Sunday, December 12, 2010
10. Agree To Disagree.
Agree To Disagree.
“There’s something bout’ giving up,
It sounds so bittersweet,”
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” He took her hand firmly and nodded, smiling.
She was cute, he noted while she returned the gesture.
Then again, the new kids always were.
Why her parents moved her here from the big city was beyond him.
He sighed begrudgingly at the bad timing as he watched her talk to some of his classmates.
If he hadn’t been dating someone, he’d be all over her like green on grass.
Just like his friends were right then.
He sighed again while glancing towards his own girlfriend.
Somehow, she just couldn't compete.
“Think I’ll throw in the towel right now,
(But fold it nice and neat,)”
“There’s something bout’ giving up,
It sounds so bittersweet,”
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” He took her hand firmly and nodded, smiling.
She was cute, he noted while she returned the gesture.
Then again, the new kids always were.
Why her parents moved her here from the big city was beyond him.
He sighed begrudgingly at the bad timing as he watched her talk to some of his classmates.
If he hadn’t been dating someone, he’d be all over her like green on grass.
Just like his friends were right then.
He sighed again while glancing towards his own girlfriend.
Somehow, she just couldn't compete.
“Think I’ll throw in the towel right now,
(But fold it nice and neat,)”
Saturday, December 11, 2010
9. The Last Great Star in Hollywood
There is a mouse in my house.
No song link tonight.
That should cover it.
“And why we’re patient no one knows,”
It was funny. How everyone psyched him up for going to war.
‘You’re gonna be a hero kid,”
“You’re sacrificing so the rest of us don’t have to,”
They were encouraging words, but hollow once he saw true war. It wasn’t beautiful or heroic. It was cheap and bloody and raw.
He worried he’d made a mistake.
The smartest person he knew had tried to talk him out of it, but he’d persisted pridefully.
And all he was left with now were a constant stream of letters from home all starting with,
“Dear idiot...”
“I ask for just one prayer that I can put me into.
We’re the most modern man machines”
No song link tonight.
That should cover it.
“And why we’re patient no one knows,”
It was funny. How everyone psyched him up for going to war.
‘You’re gonna be a hero kid,”
“You’re sacrificing so the rest of us don’t have to,”
They were encouraging words, but hollow once he saw true war. It wasn’t beautiful or heroic. It was cheap and bloody and raw.
He worried he’d made a mistake.
The smartest person he knew had tried to talk him out of it, but he’d persisted pridefully.
And all he was left with now were a constant stream of letters from home all starting with,
“Dear idiot...”
“I ask for just one prayer that I can put me into.
We’re the most modern man machines”
Friday, December 10, 2010
8. One Sail.
So, I have a life and it gets in the way. No one reads these anyway. :D
“My love rests in a shipwreck.
With a compass in his head.
I’ll wait for him, like vultures wait for bodies,”
There’s only so long you can wait for someone.
Her mother had told her that.
Constantly.
And maybe she was right. What was she waiting for anyway? A boy with a silly grin and no real understanding about how the world worked. Jesus, it never even crossed his mind that he could die. It had never even occurred to him.
Maybe he really was a simple boy with big dreams.
But he was sweet and caring, and had his moments.
Besides, loathed as she was to admit it, she loved him.
And that’s really all she felt mattered.
“I miss your half- Irish grin,
and our love is growing upside down.
They say you’ll never make it home!
But I will wait, won’t bury your clothes,”
“My love rests in a shipwreck.
With a compass in his head.
I’ll wait for him, like vultures wait for bodies,”
There’s only so long you can wait for someone.
Her mother had told her that.
Constantly.
And maybe she was right. What was she waiting for anyway? A boy with a silly grin and no real understanding about how the world worked. Jesus, it never even crossed his mind that he could die. It had never even occurred to him.
Maybe he really was a simple boy with big dreams.
But he was sweet and caring, and had his moments.
Besides, loathed as she was to admit it, she loved him.
And that’s really all she felt mattered.
“I miss your half- Irish grin,
and our love is growing upside down.
They say you’ll never make it home!
But I will wait, won’t bury your clothes,”
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
7. Bored of your love
So...I'm getting bored.
Song.
I wish you would put effort in trying to make this work
(I would if you ask me, I'd do anything for you)
“I am trying,” She countered, squaring for a fight.
“So am I,” He snapped. His shoulders slumped and he looked psychically shaken. “But it’s not working,”
The truth was, it hadn't been working for a while. And they both knew it. They weren't children anymore.
There was only so much one could do.
“No,” She agreed, nodding. “It isn’t,”
“Lets take a break,” He offered, swallowing hard. “Just to see where things are going,”
She shrugged almost uncaringly while she packed as if already defeated. “Alright. Lets do that,”
She kissed his cheek and she was gone.
Again.
I wish we were strangers
(It's not like were strangers)
Song.
I wish you would put effort in trying to make this work
(I would if you ask me, I'd do anything for you)
“I am trying,” She countered, squaring for a fight.
“So am I,” He snapped. His shoulders slumped and he looked psychically shaken. “But it’s not working,”
The truth was, it hadn't been working for a while. And they both knew it. They weren't children anymore.
There was only so much one could do.
“No,” She agreed, nodding. “It isn’t,”
“Lets take a break,” He offered, swallowing hard. “Just to see where things are going,”
She shrugged almost uncaringly while she packed as if already defeated. “Alright. Lets do that,”
She kissed his cheek and she was gone.
Again.
I wish we were strangers
(It's not like were strangers)
Monday, December 6, 2010
Brianna attempts "Teamwork"
I'm taking a quick break from my drabbles to tell you about something very near and dear to my heart.
Just kidding.
It's just a story about how I hate everybody.
Enjoy!
When I was younger I was an incredibly frightened, painfully shy child. For some strange reason, my mother thought that things like friends, and love would make it all better.
So, she enrolled me in a private, advanced pre-school/kindergarden type place where you basically had your first year/year and a half of elementary school done and finished by graduation. (Age six or seven).
Before I go any further with this story, do you remember that kid back in school who was really, really smart, but sat in the back of the class and ignored everyone and you were secretly afraid that they’d finally just snap at the stupidity around them and do something terrible?
Well, Hi there petrified class-mate. That was me.
I don’t think my mother ever really thought about the reasoning for my shyness. In fact, now that I think about it, I think shy was a very misleading label. Shy seems to give the idea that one *wants* to do something “HI RANDOM STRANGER” but are too terrified too. *Random stranger = Pedophile*. While thinking back on it, I believe that I was just anti-social.
At school time I’d do all my work accordingly. During whatever big exam some outside-educators came and performed I hit very high marks. But play time was a happily lonesome time for me, because frankly, I didn’t like anyone. Torin was a spoiled rich kid who yelled and screamed when she didn’t get what she wanted. Cory was an abused kid from the ghetto that only got into the school on Financial Aid, and everyone else was kind of just there.
I also didn’t have a great love for the teachers. I was born with an innate sense of right vs. wrong, and frankly, I just didn’t like authority.
So, two years there and off to “real school” I went.
My mother, still trying to shower me with love and friends thought I should sign up for team sports.
She had NO idea what she was doing.
We started with soccer. Oh, yes, how I LOVED kicking that ball as hard as I possibly could at someo-I mean, a net. But I just never did get that ‘teamwork’ thing going on. So...I quit after a season.
Now, a year or so before all this I had started horse-back riding. This fit me just fine because there weren’t any teams. I started earlier then any of the other kids (The start-age at the time was 10) because, even at seven years old I was hog-crazy about horses. The instructor was more then impressed and I can’t help but wonder if I disappointed her with never going to competition with the skill. I wonder what she would have thought if I’d told her the only reason I had started was because I had this secret dream of becoming Xena: Warrior Princess.
On the other hand, I remember vividly the instructor running around her heated office editing legal paperwork that basically said “IF YOUR CHILD DIES YOU CAN NOT SUE ME,” and while I can’t remember exactly what was said between the instructor (who was impressed but still worried as hell) and my mother (who was trying *really* hard to make me happy), I can only assume it went something like this:
Instructor: She could die.
Mother: Okay.
Instructor: She could fall and become paralyzed or break her neck.
Mother: Alright.
Instructor: No, seriously, this is dangerous.
Mother: Where do I sign?
Anyway, I was all over horse back riding. Until winter came when it was cold and freezing and icy and who the hell wants to do anything in that? So, after my absolute failure at soccer, my mother needed something team like for me to do during the winter.
For some reason that still escapes me, she decided that I would benefit greatly shy- wise from Karate. Oh, mother mother mother, her high hopes were dashed again and again.
I remember my disregard for authority helping me very, very little in a dojo, and after the third class I was sobbing hysterically in my baby-way and begging never ever to go back.
Okay, I’m actually not all that cool. Really, some girl hit me and while I was scary at school, outside the protection of being the weird kid on the edge I was pretty much useless.
Karate was checked off the list of things to do.
My mother continued to try.
Writing classes, drawing classes, acting classes, money down the drain.
Finally, we started homeschooling, and after getting a dose of reality about how fucking crazy and weird homeschoolers were ( I mean, seriously, compared to them I seemed normal...) my mother gave up for a few years. All the books said to just leave your kid alone and let them figure everything out on their own.
This brought me archery and shooting, which I very much enjoyed, and guess what kids? You don’t have to be in a team.
Eventually, with my varying interest's Ieft archery and pretty much ignored extra curricular stuff.
And then,
It began again.
My mother decided I should try tennis.
Tennis and Sewing.
With other people.
“It’ll be fun!”
At this point, if there HAD been any hope of me liking people, it had long since been stomped to death.
Sewing was interesting, and I stuck with it for awhile.
Even after making another girl cry after a heated political debate. (She was a huge wimp).
Tennis.... in all honesty, I hated tennis.
I didn’t, and still do not see the point of running back and forth hitting a ball.
You aren’t even allowed to hit anyone with them.
So, yeah. That lasted.
Anyway, it’s been a year or so since my mother has pushed anything. Although sometimes, you hear her start
“Brianna, I think you should try *blank* I think it’ll be...” and then she stops herself and goes along with her business.
So what exactly are we left with?
Brianna.
Who does not play well with others.
Just kidding.
It's just a story about how I hate everybody.
Enjoy!
When I was younger I was an incredibly frightened, painfully shy child. For some strange reason, my mother thought that things like friends, and love would make it all better.
So, she enrolled me in a private, advanced pre-school/kindergarden type place where you basically had your first year/year and a half of elementary school done and finished by graduation. (Age six or seven).
Before I go any further with this story, do you remember that kid back in school who was really, really smart, but sat in the back of the class and ignored everyone and you were secretly afraid that they’d finally just snap at the stupidity around them and do something terrible?
Well, Hi there petrified class-mate. That was me.
I don’t think my mother ever really thought about the reasoning for my shyness. In fact, now that I think about it, I think shy was a very misleading label. Shy seems to give the idea that one *wants* to do something “HI RANDOM STRANGER” but are too terrified too. *Random stranger = Pedophile*. While thinking back on it, I believe that I was just anti-social.
At school time I’d do all my work accordingly. During whatever big exam some outside-educators came and performed I hit very high marks. But play time was a happily lonesome time for me, because frankly, I didn’t like anyone. Torin was a spoiled rich kid who yelled and screamed when she didn’t get what she wanted. Cory was an abused kid from the ghetto that only got into the school on Financial Aid, and everyone else was kind of just there.
I also didn’t have a great love for the teachers. I was born with an innate sense of right vs. wrong, and frankly, I just didn’t like authority.
So, two years there and off to “real school” I went.
My mother, still trying to shower me with love and friends thought I should sign up for team sports.
She had NO idea what she was doing.
We started with soccer. Oh, yes, how I LOVED kicking that ball as hard as I possibly could at someo-I mean, a net. But I just never did get that ‘teamwork’ thing going on. So...I quit after a season.
Now, a year or so before all this I had started horse-back riding. This fit me just fine because there weren’t any teams. I started earlier then any of the other kids (The start-age at the time was 10) because, even at seven years old I was hog-crazy about horses. The instructor was more then impressed and I can’t help but wonder if I disappointed her with never going to competition with the skill. I wonder what she would have thought if I’d told her the only reason I had started was because I had this secret dream of becoming Xena: Warrior Princess.
On the other hand, I remember vividly the instructor running around her heated office editing legal paperwork that basically said “IF YOUR CHILD DIES YOU CAN NOT SUE ME,” and while I can’t remember exactly what was said between the instructor (who was impressed but still worried as hell) and my mother (who was trying *really* hard to make me happy), I can only assume it went something like this:
Instructor: She could die.
Mother: Okay.
Instructor: She could fall and become paralyzed or break her neck.
Mother: Alright.
Instructor: No, seriously, this is dangerous.
Mother: Where do I sign?
Anyway, I was all over horse back riding. Until winter came when it was cold and freezing and icy and who the hell wants to do anything in that? So, after my absolute failure at soccer, my mother needed something team like for me to do during the winter.
For some reason that still escapes me, she decided that I would benefit greatly shy- wise from Karate. Oh, mother mother mother, her high hopes were dashed again and again.
I remember my disregard for authority helping me very, very little in a dojo, and after the third class I was sobbing hysterically in my baby-way and begging never ever to go back.
Okay, I’m actually not all that cool. Really, some girl hit me and while I was scary at school, outside the protection of being the weird kid on the edge I was pretty much useless.
Karate was checked off the list of things to do.
My mother continued to try.
Writing classes, drawing classes, acting classes, money down the drain.
Finally, we started homeschooling, and after getting a dose of reality about how fucking crazy and weird homeschoolers were ( I mean, seriously, compared to them I seemed normal...) my mother gave up for a few years. All the books said to just leave your kid alone and let them figure everything out on their own.
This brought me archery and shooting, which I very much enjoyed, and guess what kids? You don’t have to be in a team.
Eventually, with my varying interest's Ieft archery and pretty much ignored extra curricular stuff.
And then,
It began again.
My mother decided I should try tennis.
Tennis and Sewing.
With other people.
“It’ll be fun!”
At this point, if there HAD been any hope of me liking people, it had long since been stomped to death.
Sewing was interesting, and I stuck with it for awhile.
Even after making another girl cry after a heated political debate. (She was a huge wimp).
Tennis.... in all honesty, I hated tennis.
I didn’t, and still do not see the point of running back and forth hitting a ball.
You aren’t even allowed to hit anyone with them.
So, yeah. That lasted.
Anyway, it’s been a year or so since my mother has pushed anything. Although sometimes, you hear her start
“Brianna, I think you should try *blank* I think it’ll be...” and then she stops herself and goes along with her business.
So what exactly are we left with?
Brianna.
Who does not play well with others.
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