Showing posts with label Writings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writings. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Biomancer - excerpt

Prime smacked the slave in the face. “Girl, look at me. How many times do I have to tell you that I like it better when you look in my eyes.” He gave her thin arms, which he held firmly to the mattress, a tight squeeze, warning her to be quiet. Her crying became whimpering. Tears ran down the side of her face from the corners of her eyes, filling her ears. Everything sounded hollow in her head, his voice, his heartbeat, the crackle of straw from the mattress as he pushed against her.
She found it was over quicker if she resisted a little, making him angry. His weight on her chest was oppressive. She had to breathe in gasps, which seemed to arouse him further. In his sick mind he likely thought that he was stimulating her. She thought of him and the guards that almost nightly chose her, dying a thousand deaths, a thousand torturous ways. Contemplating their deaths made it almost tolerable, almost. For some reason she was chosen more often than the other girls were. Two nights without being visited was a rarity. She just wanted it to end. If not for her brother being left alone in this horrendous place, she would have by now ended her own life to stop the pain that she had to endure. More than anything she just wanted it to end.
“What!” he pushed his chest in the air, rising above the slave, still thrusting. “What is that,” he said to himself, looking concernedly out the open window.
A small light could be seen in the yard. Someone was walking toward the log yard. Something was amiss, and he knew it. Guards didn’t use that path to travel between posts.
Prime stopped unfulfilled, got off the straw-filled mattress, and took a long swig of something from a black bottle. He tossed the empty container aside and picked a wrinkled robe from the floor, wadded it into a loose ball, and threw it at the girl-slave with malice. “Get back to your room, slave,” Prime demanded with a drunken slur.
Shakily she put on the robe from the corner of the mattress farthest from his lecherous reach, feeling the bruises forming on her stiff arms. Disconcerted she hurried from the room without a care for what had consumed his thoughts, yet grateful that something had.
Prime sluggishly got dressed. Pulling on his pants, he unbuckled his five-thong whip and set it on the room’s lone, wobbly-legged table. Off he went to the supply room, deciding to get something a little more destructive.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

An Old Journal

I found a small journal. Half of the pages are missing; the spiral binding packed with remnants of the missing sheets. What was on them, I have no idea. It is from late winter 2005, when I was in the deepest depression I can recall. It was the winter before I was diagnosed. My bleakest winter. Although I don’t talk about living in the dream-realm more than the waking world that winter. I can’t believe I can still eat ramen noodles. (Hey I spelled it right that time. LOL.) I had actually gone to an MD for my anger and depression when it got so bad that I was told at work that I was on my last straw. He mentioned seeing a P-doc and I laughed at him and told him that I had broke down some major walls just coming in to him with my personal emotional shit. He prescribed me anti-depressants. I would eventually swallow my pride after I didn’t get better and took his advice to go to a shrink. Am I crazy? Dumbass, I thought.

Since I hit my twenties I have always wanted to write a novel, but I never had the resolve to follow through. It was actually one of my obsessions at one point. I wrote a hundred pages that flowed forth like the mildest of wines. I slowly taught myself to use, close to correct grammar, from reading fantasy novels. You can definitely tell the first chapter. LOL. Maybe I’ll go back and rewrite it. Yea right, who am I kidding. English wasn’t my strong subject in school. Actually no subject was. I quit in the ninth grade after years of drugs and skipping school. Sad thing was I could go in on Friday the first time all week and usually pass tests. Teachers hated that. Matter of fact, they hated my guts. I will have to go into my fucked-up childhood at some point in the future. I truly was a piece of shit. You’ll love it.

Anyway, back to the set-up. The first few items are jotted excepts from mental chapters of various books that will never come to be. The rest are a few posts of feelings from my pre-diagnosed mind and also a few personal events of that time. There are also a lot of poker thoughts and stratagems in the journal, but I’ll not bore you with that shit; that’s what my poker blog is for.

I found it to be intriguing and overtly nostalgic. You might not find it so, yet it is a tiny glimpse into a brief period of my life. Nothing major, just stuff. Plus I feel like writing at the moment. Too bad you can’t see all the doodling in the margins. Hey, I home alone in this house, what else am I fucking supposed to do? There’s always poker… Na.

Boring, but if you like boring shit - Here we go. Oh yea, I fixed some spelling. Believe me you’ll appreciate that.

He could smell the ocean here; briny tang with a slight tinge of something that made him think of rotting crabs.

The slender contortionist of a cat repeatedly licked its own spine, occasionally pausing to nip at a flea, and then right back to its self-bathing.

The abacus in his head went “click”; the weight of the bead like a brick weighing on his soul.

A wind blew across my soul. Like rolling over in my own grave. They are here for me.

It was a cold rain. He walked out scrunching his neck like a threatened turtle, and leaning his head towards the driving wind and rain as if it would somehow shield him from the maelstrom. ~ tempest.

“Bjord is on his deathbed and I can na’ leave,” he pleaded to the old crone.
“Here, hey now, this poultice… that’s what you can do. All by yourn’ self. Made from mugwort and the blackest salve… among other things.” Her rotten teeth seemed to dance loosely in her gums. “The blacker, the better they say. He he,” she cackled absently. She pshawed with a puff of air and rolled her knowing eyes as she watched his back fade into the distance.

2/13/05

Day before Valentine’s Day. Amber and I are cleaning the bedroom. Nice and sunny outside today.

Feeling a little nostalgic going through stuff, especially old papers and shit.

I’m going to take old copies of my book to work. Going to try to go through all them and update my “pure” copy and hopefully find the parts that are currently missing because of cheap-ass corrupt hard disks.

Maybe, hopefully, it gets me motivated to write. (F-damn I keep trying to write hopefully with a fucking F. Damn dyslectic mind. LOL.) Hopefully starting this journal will also do that.

I need to do something.

2/15/05

Kick-ass – already I forgot to write. So much for motivation to write. The only thing that is escalating is my depression. Come on spring. Cabin fever sucking.

All work and no play makes Ash a dull boy. LOL.

Devine Wind.

2/22/05

Been awhile – switched doctors today. Now Dr Rao – hope he’s good.

Back to work in the morning, but only 2 days this week ‘cause I took 2 days off to take Ash-wife over to Iron Mt. to neurologist. Roads were bad there (on the way) almost wrecked once going around a corner – Tracker slid. Warmed up over night and during the day – roads were dry on the ride home. We have to go back my 1st day off on Fri. so Ash-wife can get EEG done.

Pokery stuff.

Cleaned the fish tank today.

Pokery stuff again.

Shit – shit – shit

I want a Jack Russell Terrier. They are pretty cool. I’ll get a male one and breed it with my Min-Pin Mindy. I’m just babbling now cause I feel like writing.

3/5/05

Oh yea, Ash-wife and I, we went to the casino today. We ended up $8 ahead. LOL. Ash-wife played the slots and lost $100 – but luckily I won $108 at the No Limit Holdem table. I got lucky though, because I was way out of my league. I had a bunch of Pros at my table all night.

Pokery stuff.

3/14/05

Playing poker again – of course. Having fun. Problem is it’s all I think about. Addictive personality. Though I know my limits. Not that wrapped up in it. Just like trying new systems and methods. I’m not willing to spend much $ at it though. Which is a good thing :)

Weird thing – I type and talk so much online that when I write I want to use those goofy shorthand things. Ex: TY, LOL. Retarded yes? Also, when people talk to me I have to stop myself from saying TY instead of Thank You.

Oh yea, forgot to write the real good news in here. We found Ash-wife’s big medical problem after all these years. She has Reactive Hypoglycemia. Good this we went to Dr Peterson. That biatch is good – knows her shiat.

Our diet and food in the house is changing. Which is also a good thing.

Started going back to the gym. Ash-wife is already looking better with new diet and her ability to now exercise again. She looks a lot healthier – eyes and face don’t look sickly anymore. She feels better and better about herself. I can see it in her face that she is happy.

3/23/05

Spring is officially here, by date anyway, yet lots of snow and cold left. It’s strating to warm up above freezing during the days.

I need to start my seedlings. I will have a nice garden this year, weather willing.

I’m also ready for family outings, looking for morels, and just being in the woods in general.

I have a trap to find, tree stands to take down, and some blind furniture to get before the squirrels and chipmunks do.

4/16/05

I won the 2005 Newberry Elk’s Club Hold’em tourney. It was there inaugural tournament. Won a trophy and $360. I’m a bad-ass.

Pokery stuff.

TUES 8/9/05 THE DAY I FOUND OUT

I circled the date over and over in black ink.

Last page just has some snippets scrawled hastily in pencil. I remember this was a quick jotting of things that I wanted to discuss with my P-doc the next time I saw him.

My wife and people (workers) said that they have learned to see the signs and leave me alone.

Extreme mania: When she can’t get thru to me she will write me a letter. Only a few times in our marriage.

12 hr pill makes me cough.