Lazy Saturday

10:45 am

25 Jan 2014

So today's going to be a long day. The crowd I usually surround myself with have all got things to do, so the thought numbing distractions that I usually immerse myself in are all gone. It is too early in the semester to have anything to do but the stuff I have to do, I don't have anything to do it in so I can't even if I wanted to. My remaining roommates both have things to do, a friend has class, a friend has dance, three are at their homes, the others are inaccessible. You guys sure picked the right day to shut down the electricity in this part of town, the day my phone is on the verge of being lost into an empty-battery induced coma for the rest of the day.

Anyhow, it sure has been a while since I wrote something on paper with a pen and I had quite forgotten what my handwriting looks like when I'm thinking faster than I can write. Maybe I should teach myself shorthand. My t's have changed. I wonder what that says about me. So have my d's.

I really should use this time to do something productive. But it is almost like everything around me has decided to have a 'Do Nothing Day' so everything has aligned itself in the world's 'Lazy Saturday' setting. Even the wind is lazy. The trees outside my window don't even move. Not even a millimeter. Oh wait, I think I see a movement. Nope. Just a crow.

The point of this narrative is that the last thing I want right now is a Lazy Saturday. I feel somehow motivated and maybe even driven. Maybe I should try to fix my new jeans. I left a pen in my pocket and I'm consoling myself with 'At least they weren't gray like the last time' or maybe even 'At least they weren't the ridiculously expensive pair I'd set my heart on'.

Maybe I need to get a new pair of jeans. Maybe this time I'll get the ridiculously expensive ones.

Gratitude

I haven't been on here in a while. Not since last month when I put up an unfinished chapter of an attempted novel as a pathetic excuse for a blog post.

So, today morning when a friend sends me a message with just a number followed by an exclamation point '3999!' I'm not quite sure what he's talking about.




*Warning - Nonsensical, emotional drivel coming up. I'm a little emotional right now. As you can see from my dramatic single line paragraphs.*

It's been a year and a little more since I started this blog. And along the way everything has changed.

So here I go, I'm not sure what to say really. I have loads of thank yous to give away. Maybe I should make a list.

To all of you, who have been there from the very beginning. Those of you I tagged in that very first story I put up as a note on Facebook. Any of you still out there reading this emotional drivel, thank you. My TP sister, my coaching-math-tuition-eminem-rapping-bestie-who-wrote-an-entire-sleeve-on-my-last-day-shirt. And all you people. I can't think of funny enough names for each of you so I'm just saying My.heart.will.go.on.nigga.

All of you who read my version of KangMin, thank you, I love you guys, K-Pop brings the world together, Fighting!

To you people who support me silently, reading the stuff I link you, occasionally checking in on your own, it means the world to me. When you tell me to keep writing, it makes me feel alive.

To each of you who's played a little (or big) part in any of my stories, thank you. As long as you don't sue me someday if/when I get published, I'm grateful. I couldn't have written it without you.

To you few people who tell me that I've (partly) inspired them to blog, you make me feel on top of the world, really. As though somehow we are all a part of something so much bigger than just you, me or the people we meet. You there Ninja, Retard, Dummy-who-tried-to-hide-his-blog, and you-with-the-long-hyphenated-words-who-turned-out-to-be-such-a-hypocrite-and-a-prick-I-hate-you-I-really-do.

You, who read the blog and got my phone number from God-knows-where and texted me, thank you. I may have responded differently from what you expected me to, and for that, I apologize. I'm wary of random texters. I have been thinking about that story suggestion, just playing around with it, hopefully I'll put it down on paper soon.

To you, the one guy who read both my blogs in one sitting, you mean a lot to me. No matter whether all the plans we make are ruined or whether we have our differences and haven't spoken in ages. Thank you. And I promise you, that sometime in the next few years I will buy you that Kit-Kat shake :P

To the guy who abhors all social media but tells me that maybe people can be reached through just words, the guy who reminds me to be ridiculously optimistic, thank you. (The first two things I mentioned in this sentence are mutually exclusive, I just put it in to make identification a little easier.)

And you. Had we come to a conclusion about a substitute for 'Nice arse'? I don't remember. :P

To those who tell me that my writing is bold or along those lines, thank you. I'm not all that strong, I pretend to be. When you tell me I appear stronger than I am, it helps.

To my epic roomies who see all my drama and live in my mess. A special mention to 'you' with all our crazy plans and 'fantasies.' :P I love you guys *kisses*

To dad, mom and my baby. I've been framing this sentence since I started thinking about this post but I haven't yet. So yeah. I hope all these unsaid things get to you.

To everyone who put me down and stomped all over everything I ever thought my own, I guess what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I don't bear any resentment, apathy feels a lot better. I wouldn't have had things to write about if it weren't for you. Thank you.

To you who told me I had one view to get to 4k. I don't know. I'm just giving you a mention :P Then again, I probably should say that this person pays more attention to this blog than I do. And if you consider everyone reading this and me to be separated by this black and grey keyboard I'm tapping on, this person would be this swiveling chair. Or the table the keyboard is on. You get my drift. Anyhow, you're on this side of the keyboard, I mean to say. And I'd swap all my girl kids for your boy kids if you wanted me to. :P So there, you bum and a half, thank you for everything :)

And to you, last but actually the furthest away from being the least (:P) the one who knows me the best, the one who I used to run every decision past, it's been a couple of years, I hope we have this sort of whenever-you-need-me thing going on for a lot more. I couldn't have been me without you. Also, the person I mentioned just above, definitely has a crush on you. I love you more though. :P

*end of dedications and ridiculous PDA*

*for now*

New year resolutions:
1. Stop skipping breakfast.
2. Write more.
3. Read more.

I don't know why I'm being so ridiculously emotional. Maybe because I LOVE YOU GUISE! :P

*sobs*

Kbye.

posted from Bloggeroid

Missing Shadows

Title: Missing Shadows
Genre: Speculative fiction (It sounds a lot cooler than it really is :P)
Word Count: 747
Yeah. Under normal circumstances I easily break the 1k limit but somehow when I'm trying to build up to 50k, I fall short. Cruel, cruel world.

A/N: This was supposed to be the first chapter of my novel. *sigh* Anyhow, it's a short story now.

----

I am awake. Conscious at the very least. I can feel my mind stirring, slowly shaking off the drowsiness induced by my late night. My world is still dark. I take a deep breath and try to open my eyes.

My eyelids feel heavy, not the kind of heavy caused by a late night at work or a night out gone wrong. It feels as though someone's glued my eyes shut, as though my neurotransmitters have switched off and my brain is isolated from the rest of my body. Trapped inside the shell it once controlled.

Panic strikes and I feel my breathing getting irregular. My hands get clammy, my heart starts to beat faster, my body starts to shiver. I try to regain control over my mind and I force myself to take slow, deep breaths. It works. Somewhat. My heart slows down to a more normal pace, my body stops shivering. My hands are still clammy. I attempt to open my eyes again.

The world is pitch black. I sit up, frantically looking around. There is nothing to see. No light, no objects, not even shadows. I can't see.

I fall back onto the bed and cover my face with my hands. I will myself to calm down, I start breathing normally again. Baby steps. I try to visualize what I would see.

The faded yellow walls, the painting on the far end. The dim light from the lamp mounted on the wall behind me. The clock on the bedside table, it probably would be indicating that it is 8 am. The dressing table on the side, the mirror reflecting the thick, wine red curtains on the opposite wall.

I sit up and slowly open my eyes. It is a little blurry at first but then the lines become sharper. The room is exactly as I imagined it would be. The yellow of the walls, the dim light from the lamp, the clock showing 8 am, the dressing table, the mirror reflecting the wine red curtains.

Rubbing my eyes in an attempt to kick start my stalling consciousness, I stretch and get off the bed. I walk over to the dressing table and finger comb my hair into a ponytail. It has been getting long, my hair. I need to get a haircut. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I see that my hair which I usually maintain at about shoulder length, has grown up to my elbows. I am not quite sure how it escaped my notice for this long. I guess I have just been that busy. I search the table for an elastic, I can't find one. I end up braiding my hair instead, to keep it out of my face. I notice the clock in the reflection, it's still 8 am.

Maybe the battery is dead. I walk up to the table and pick it up, I hit it against the palm of my other hand a few times in a futile attempt to bring it to life. I know I have a couple of spare batteries somewhere, I open a drawer to check.

It is pitch black. Nothing at all. Not even a shadow.

I look up and start to notice the things I'd missed. The parts of the room that I hadn't visualized are still blurry. The headboard of the bed, my slippers, the door. I rip the curtains open and it's pitch black outside. I turn around and come face to face my reflection in the mirror.

She's screaming, I can't hear it though. I can see the terror in her eyes. Her hair grows longer, the dark brown tendrils twisting around her neck forming a noose. Like a giant rope that's come to life, it tightens around the pale skin of her throat. She clutches at the bonds with white trembling fingers. Her knuckles are pale and she grapples against the stronghold, the noose is getting tighter, her eyes grow wide, her face grows pale.

My hands fly up to my neck as I start to feel something tightening around it. I touch my throat but I can't feel anything but my skin. The pressure is getting unbearable and something twists my face to look at my reflection in the mirror. She's looking at me, her eyes are begging me to help. I feel myself get lifted off the ground, I'm choking, the world is growing darker. I'm feeling dizzy.

With a loud crash the mirror shatters. It's over.