New Home

For more please check out:

http://thesomablog.wordpress.com

My new blog home.

Sadistic Kangaroos

I wonder why it is that I prefer to write from a man’s perspective so much more often than a woman’s/girl’s perspective? I’ve written from a males point of view in A Cold Suicide, The Broken Dead, A Stones Throw Away….(I list these as if anyone knows what I’m talking about). Now that I think about it I have written stories from a girls point of a view. Burton Richards was from Marie’s perspective, that one story about the aliens which is only two pages long at the moment and is still titled-ARG! ALIEN ATTACK! has a young girl as a main character, so did my Super Squad story.

I guess I have more of a gender balance than I originally thought.

I think it’s good to be able to write from different minds, why I still kind of want to write a series of stories based on suicides. Or to be more specific the mind of the suicidal person in the moment or perhaps even the thoughts of the people watching or grieving, etc. Each very original in itself. A Cold Suicide of course would be one. Which is told from the mind of a sarcastic arse hole named Brian. The next could be very sad though, maybe this man or woman actually did jump for sure instead of being left a little open like A Cold Suicide was. Even if in my mind he did jump…whether he lived or not I don’t really know myself. I kind of want him to live, just because he was such a funny character.

Well, keep an eye out for it! Maybe I’ll end up publishing a series of a short stories about suicidal people. Hopefully the public won’t think I’m a mentally unstable teen and try and send me to a home.

They can’t do that off a story can they?

Or can they?

I’m a writer not a speller

Has anyone else noticed, when I say I’m going to post something or write something I end up never doing it?

Like that story about the awkward visit to the church. It’s on my computer somewhere or at least the beginning of it is.

Or that alien flash fiction I was going to write. I haven’t written a single sentence. It’s all still bottled up in my head. It’ll pour itself out sometime. My after school boredom will get the best of me soon. I’ll begin to crave the idea of being busy just so I can again lust for rest.

War Heads and Honey

I like this new blog title much, much more than Writing and Thoughts. Blehhhhhhh Writing and Thoughts? Really? Anyone else get what I’m saying here? I know I haven’t really said anything but blehhhh so I guess this is kind of hard to relate too.

Another random side note:

I’m not sure why but having a blog and writing in it about writing for some reason makes me feel very full of myself. I picture bloggers as people who live normal lives, are probably very nice, come home at the end of the day, pretend to smoke a pipe and write about how today’s society is just a piece of shit hole blah blah blah look at me act smart!

Which I have a feeling is just some weird, unflattering cliche I made up in my head due to my own lack of confidence. See! There I go again! Just talking about having a lack of confidence makes me feel full of myself which is again probably due to a lack of confidence! Does anyone actually read this blog? Or is just some weird therapeutic thing I have going for myself without even realizing it?

Or maybe I’m an emotional wreck waiting to explode!

Nah, I  just like to pretend I’m crazy.

Where I’m From

In World Literature our first assignment was to write a poem called, Where I’m From. It was meant to be based of the original poem by George Ella Lyon and probably to serve the purpose to getting to known one another a bit better. The original poem can be read here: http://www.georgeellalyon.com/where.html

We had a format we could follow but I chose to do mine for the most part from scratch. I wasn’t very happy with it at first, especially the ending(it sounded Hallmark cheesy to me)  but I read it to the class despite my horrible nerves and they seemed to like it ok. Tell me what you think? I’m always open to criticism and opinions.

I am from my mother’s warm lap
Rocking me in a green chair
As the TV hums and the crickets sing.

I am from under jets in the sky,
From falling into dead leaves,
Their smell sharp in my nose,
Their crunching smothering my ears.

I’m from getting lost in my grandfathers paintings,
Studying their twists and colors.
The scent of fake plants
And knitted blankets.

I’m from hand me down clothes
Once owned by a teasing big sister,
From shedding tears over bicycle injuries,
From Rugrat re-runs in the afternoon.

I’m from picking strawberries in a cold summer’s dawn,
From fearing the paper wasps in the garden,
I am from green blades beneath my feet,
Pink gecko’s in my hands
And fossils from a stream forgotten.

I am from the smelly rat cage
That held my first pet all my own,
Victor,
Who bit all but me.

I am from ridiculing school children,
From outsider friends,
From bitterly cold recess in winter
And games of tag to be continued tomorrow.

I am from old friends lost
From new friends gained,
From family grown older
And from memories left young.

I just had another thought. Maybe I dislike this poem because it’s unlike so much of what I usually might write? Which would be closer to dark humored, even twisted stories.

Yu-Gi-Oh!(and egg rolls)

Does anyone remember this show? It’s still going but as a crappier not as exciting series.
As I munch on my soggy, microwaved egg rolls I will tell you about my recent re-addiction to the show.
(Late summer boredom and too many hours online triggered it of course.)
A young boy/game(not video games mind you but hands on games) fanatic named Yuugi, his friends, his grandfather, a few mean hearted people, an intense card game and a monster called Yami released by Yuugi solving a strange Egyptian puzzle, make up this anime. Yami looks very much like Yuugi, only taller, more confident, and his eyes aren’t so baby like and wanting. He tends to appear whenever Yuugi is in a tight spot. Like say some ass hole with green hair wants to steal his fathers beloved Blue Eyes Dragon card. Yami saves the day by challenging him to a duel and using his crazy gaming skills to get it back. (Yami is all about the games)
I’m only on episode four right now but I can already tell you I am very into it. I watched a bit of it when I was a kid but pooped out after they started dueling on a blimp.
Dueling is what they call it when you play the card game Duel Monsters. The card game is really what the show revolves around. Which makes me want to buy a deck(they sell them like they sell Pokemon cards. It’s also played with a similar score base. The game itself though is very different from Pokemon) and learn to play like the boys in my neighborhood never let me do. Apparently it wasn’t a game for girls.

On another note. Don’t microwave your sweet sauce with your egg rolls. It gets all sticky. Actually don’t microwave your egg rolls at all. It takes less time but tastes a lot worse.
And did anyone else notice the excessive amount of parentheses used in this post? (There’s a lot of side notes to be explained. Sorry)

I’m too anxious to sit here.

Two posts within ten minutes of one another. Very nice.

I feel a short story coming on. Or more so I’d like to write a new one.
Ideas?
Funny ones? Scary ones? I don’t need much to get me started. So please, if you have anything, show me. I’d very much appreciate it.

UPDATE: I have an idea in my head for a new blog entry. Something to do with either thinking words like a writer does or thinking in images like an artist does. It’s not done cooking yet. Actually it’s barely started. So give me at least a day.