Posted in stream of consciousness, Word Prompt

When It’s All Said and Done

Around Christmas I disappeared from here. It’s typical for me to take a break but it’s usually a week or so. Aside from a Merry Christmas post and Recap post I didn’t write anything after mid-December.

In November and December I posted half of what I usually post in a month.

In real life I locked myself in a bathroom stall at work and cried. I thought about not waking up more often than I had in years.

I wondered how I came back to this point.

This is a post I started in January. As we come to the holidays again I find myself thinking about this time last year and wondering if I should share.

I didn’t at the time because I honestly didn’t believe anyone would care. I pushed myself back to a childhood state of believing the things I felt were completely invalid. I felt if I shared then I’d have to immediately apologize for feeling that way and possibly even be punished for it.

It had been years since I actually had suicidal thoughts but last Christmas, for me, they were alive and well. I tried to remember everything I would leave behind. I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t really that bad because I could at least think of things worth sticking around for.

I tried to think about things I had accomplished. I tried to make sense of my life in terms of gratitude.

None of that stopped me from constantly thinking about ending it.

I don’t feel that way anymore but I fear at any moment it could engulf me again.

It makes me feel defective. Of course I’ve remained single. Of course I’ve had trouble keeping up with friends. Of course. Who wants someone that could slip into this at any time?

I say this year has flown by but in reality I just feel like I’ve lost it. I’ve felt mired the entire time and have struggled to get past it.

Maybe it’s a late quarter life crisis or a very early mid life crisis. Maybe it’s just a life crisis in general.

In reflecting over the past year I decided to share, if for nothing more than to get it off me. Maybe putting it out into space will help clear some of it. Maybe someone reading this needs to know they aren’t alone.

Suicide hotline: 1-800-273-8255 – they also offer online chat – You can also text HOME to 741741 (in the US)

Posted in stream of consciousness, Word Prompt

Jagged Edges

I exist in jagged spaces. Like the frayed strands of jeans ripped between my thighs or the breaks in the outlines of unfinished tattoos. Art that doesn’t cover my walls, instead propping up dust in corners, or bits and pieces of a life I forgot to throw away all speak to my permanent displacement.

I exist in the breaks between puffs on a cigarette, in the spaces between words. Never fully pulling myself up and away. I remain suffocated by the sheer amount of air. I exist for no one, not even myself, and fail to connect the lines between here and there.

My reflection, red lips curled around a cigarette or smoky eyes hiding thoughts much more sinister, feigns surprise though I don’t feel anything more than recognition. 

I’ve become so accustomed that I can’t even claim myself anymore.

Not very deep (RDP)

Posted in Word Prompt

Actual Blog Update Incoming

Hi everyone, I’ve been a little bit absent lately. Between work, house stuff, travel, family … I haven’t had any of myself to spread over to writing.

I’ve also made some changes on the blog recently.

I changed the background image because my old “tacky wallpaper” disappeared. I figured it was time for a little update anyway.

I also added a page for editing services. If you or anyone you know is in need of an editor please check out that page.

Otherwise things are steadying out for me and I hope to get back to prompt/challenge writing and reading very soon.

Have a wonderfully spooky rest of October!

Anyone ever feel like things get this out of control at the keyboard (or typewriter in this case)?

Posted in Word Prompt

#1434

“Are they dancing?”
“Malfunctioning.” Brant muttered over his cigarette.
The two soldiers watched from behind the bushes. 
“Are these the last ones?”
“Should be. They’re robots, they can’t reproduce.”
The private charged up his laser gun. “Let’s go.”

#1434 didn’t understand.
The men and their lasers raced across the empty lot. #1434 was sure it felt something forming inside but what exactly escaped it’s wire body and central unit.
#1434 tapped a small collection of garbage cans. ‘Time to wake up’. The garbage cans, one piled on top of another, jerked it’s spindly arms.
#1434 had given life to #1435.

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Word Count: 100
For
Friday Fictioneers

Posted in flash fiction, Word Prompt

Chairs

Photo from Pixabay

“I asked you to get the chairs out.” Lila knew that Charles would use every opportunity to exasperate her, especially when it came to her family.

“I did.” His lips curved into a smirk, only infuriating her more.

“How exactly do you expect anyone to sit in them?” She spit the words towards him like sharpened knives. Charles tapped his chin as he examined his chair placement.

“You didn’t specify what the chairs were to be used for. You just said get them out.” He gestured grandly. “They’re out … your highness.” The last words stung with a venom only her husband could perfect.

“You’re ridiculous.” Sharp pain shot through Lila’s palms where her nails were threatening to break skin. “This is ridiculous!”

“It is, isn’t it? I suppose that’s what you get.” 

The force of her slap sent him reeling to the side. He half expected his fingers to come away from the stinging imprint with a coating of fresh blood.

“You bitch! You want chairs! Here!” Charles channeled the rage spiraling through him as he shook the metal pergola. The polls swayed violently, shaking the chairs loose. All at once they came crashing down to the pavement.

Word Count: 199
For
Sunday Photo Fiction and RDP word of the day: Talk