My Mind

Hello everyone,

Sorry for a long gap in posting. A lot of things have come up this week, but no excuses. Back to it with a piece inspired by one of the shorter poems I posted to my @wmoviegrapevine instagram. A lot has been going through my head recently and I have been working on managing stress and expectations, so I felt like doing a piece on the mind was appropriate. Since I post a lot of pieces to instagram that never get posted anywhere else I figure that I may start posting more original pieces on the site.

stairwell

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I am still trying to navigate the maze,

The labryinth,

Dark recesses,

Patches of blinding light,

Flat land,

Steep mountains,

Sheer cliffs,

The mysteries of my mind continue to elude me,

Its terrain changes with each smile or frown I see,

With every word of encouragement,

With every insult,

With every success,

With every failure.

 

Time

It keeps slipping through my fingers,

An hour wasted in the black hole of YouTube,

Or maybe Instagram,

The 40 hours spent in an office I want to escape,

Leaving feeling drained,

Promising myself I will do more when I get home,

Or on a free day,

Then only taking the time to relax,

Which makes me feel guilty,

So I try to work,

When I don’t want to,

Wasting more time,

Neither relaxing or working,

This is the cycle I’m stuck in,

That needs to be broken,

For me to become the best I can be

 

Hunter

Hello everyone,

I’ll be doing a review of Preacher for comicommand, which should be up on the site early next week. I am currently reading The Boys and will be writing a piece on that next week as well. I found 100 Bullets to be somewhat overrated but I loved Preacher and I am also loving The Boys so far. With that prelude, I present a poetry piece for you all, which is inspired by an earlier post on my @wmoviegrapevine (instagram).

The next blog post will be on Monday. Have a great weekend.

***************

My legs were burning almost as much as my lungs,

I couldn’t hear it behind me anymore,

Yet I knew it was still there,

I could feel its eyes watching me,

Looking around,

I could only see trees,

Dark towers illuminated by the moonlight,

Dry leaves shuffled under my feet,

A tell-tale sound that would give me away,

 

I moved on my toes,

Hiding behind the nearest tree,

If I couldn’t see it,

It had to be far behind,

It would give itself away as it made its way closer to me,

When it got close enough,

I would slip away in another direction,

I tried to steady my breath,

 

One minute passed, maybe two

My legs were still sore,

My breathing was slowing down,

My lungs and heart were relaxed once more,

Until I heard dry leaves behind me,

Less than fifty feet away,

It didn’t make sense,

I should have heard the steps sooner,

I looked to my left,

Barely holding back a scream as I saw a paw land on the grass beside me.

 

 

 

 

Alive: Part V

Hello everyone,

This piece will conclude the Alive series. I have finished a draft of The Visitor, and plan to start editing it in two weeks. I want to let it sit for a little while so I can return to it with fresh(er) eyes.

*******

The six-foot thick sheet of glass fell to the ground,

The scientists already vacated the room,

But their scents lingered,

Forming a trail that I could easily follow,

There was a door on the left side,

I knew I couldn’t fit through it,

With one slap I tore down the brick wall around it,

Showering the ground with tiles and revealing a hallway that led to the surface,

I could see the scientists now,

Running as fast as their legs would carry them,

They were about fifty feet ahead of me,

While a line of armed soldiers were less than ten feet away,

 

I screamed as a barrage of bullets hit me,

With the scream coming out as a growl,

Bullets pierced my chest, arms, legs,

I fell to the ground,

Knowing what the soldiers would do next,

They kept shooting for a few seconds,

More bullets hit my skull,

Grazing the skin but failing to break through the thick bone,

I barely refrained from smiling as I heard the click of empty magazines,

 

My body was already expelling the bullets,

Slowly pushing them out to make way for new muscle,

The pain would persist for several hours,

My mind would block it out,

My body was ready,

I leapt off the ground,

Swinging my right arm in an arc,

My claws severed necks,

Cleaved skulls,

Lacerated faces,

Five hits,

Five soldiers dead,

 

One more problem to take care of,

I waited a few more seconds,

I could feel some of the bullet holes were healed,

There were just a few more to go now,

One bullet was still being dislodged from my left knee,

Tearing through nerves and veins as it made its way out,

I heard it hit the ground,

Then I could feel my muscles stretching to sew up the hole,

I planted my legs beneath me,

Feeling their strength,

Knowing that I was ready,

 

I pushed off,

Sailing over the soldier’s bodies,

Another leap,

Then another,

The gap between the scientists and I continued to dwindle,

I could only make out grey figures with my eyes,

But my nose and hearing showed me more,

Their coats flapping,

The rhythm of their steps,

Sweat on their skin,

The scent of food on their tongues,

 

With ten leaps,

There was food on my tongue,

I tore through the first scientist’s shoulder,

My teeth collided with one another,

Rattling my jaw,

Compressing bone and flesh,

The man’s scream was almost deafening to my ears,

So I brought my right paw onto his head to silence him,

I felt his skull flex under the weight before it stretched and crushed his brain,

As I raised my paw,

His head was a single splatter on the metal floor beneath me,

Three more to go,

They were all running at a similar pace,

Separated by only a few feet,

 

Five leaps,

One swing of my right arm,

Two more carcasses,

I wanted to take my time with the last one,

He was the mastermind behind my imprisonment,

I wanted him to stare into Frankenstein’s eyes before he died,

Two more leaps,

A claw tore through his Achilles tendons,

Sending him crashing to the ground,

 

I heard screams again,

So loud, so grating,

Worse than gunfire,

The mastermind kept moving forward,

Trying to crawl to safety,

I slid a paw underneath his chest,

Lifted my arm to effortlessly flip him onto his back,

 

He saw me now,

Red eyes,

Bloodstained teeth,

Five hundred pounds of fur-coated muscle,

The scent of urine became more pungent,

The screams died down to a whimper,

Tears mixed with sweat,

Forming a tapestry that I found deeply satisfying,

Not because of the smell itself,

But what it signified,

The mastermind now realized that I was not his pet,

I was his damnation,

 

My teeth tore through his face,

Penetrating his eyes, mouth and skull,

As I pulled my teeth away,

I could only make out a severed neck beneath me,

A macabre fountain that was decorating the ground with coppery blood,

 

The scientists picked this area because it was remote,

Now that would be their undoing,

The sun wouldn’t come up for eight more hours,

My new body would carry me far away by then,

To freedom,

To peace.

 

 

Alive: Part IV

Hello everyone,

In my previous post, I discussed my intention to try to get published through poetry or short stories so that I have more credentials to my name before I try to get my books (Elseworld and The Visitor) published again.

I am thinking that I might turn the Alive series into a short story and then try to submit that to contests or magazines. The title comes from a Kid Cudi song that  focuses on a metaphorical nighttime transformation into a beast. Lyrics such as “everytime, the moon shines I become alive” also allude to a werewolf transformation and I knew that I wanted that title before I finished the first part.

Below is part IV, which will be followed by the conclusion in Part V.

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werewolf_tattoo_idea_by_spdmngtruper-d6gwr9b
The room was designed to be soundproof,

But nothing could stop me from hearing breathing and feet shuffling in the next room,

The rapid, panicked breathing gave way to speech,

Plans to subdue me, use me,

They thought they were in control,

I volunteered for this,

Knowing I would be closer to the people in power,

I would get to sever the head from the beast,

Before I made my escape,

 

I could smell traces of urine now,

I could smell bullets too,

The scent stuck with me from the time when ten of them were embedded in my flesh,

It didn’t kill me, but it still hurt,

There was a one-way mirror blocking me from the scientists,

I walked over, with my longer legs carrying me there in two steps,

I took a deep breath, feeling my enlarged lungs burn as I inhaled,

The speech from the other end became louder,

Everyone was being assured that I couldn’t break through,

I smiled, bearing my teeth for the audience on the other end,

I could barely see them reflected in the glass,

White, foot-long daggers that could tear through flesh like butter,

 

I raised my right hand,

I didn’t clench since  it would cause my claws to bury themselves in my palm,

With my feet planted,

I brought my right hand down on the glass,

I knew it must be bulletproof,

I could feel how dense the glass was,

The leaders took precautions with me,

But not enough,

I started to push,

Driving from my legs,

Feeling the sheet of glass slowly begin to slide out of its frame,

There was plenty of strength to spare,

But I wasn’t in a rush,

No head start could save the leaders from me,
There were more words now,

Escape plans, prayers,

All futile,

They wanted the beast,

Now he was knocking at their front door.

 

werewolf-zoppy

 

Images:
http://zoppy.deviantart.com/art/Night-Werewolf-348063640

http://spdmngtruper.deviantart.com/art/werewolf-tattoo-idea-391199231

 

 

Parasite

Hello everyone,

The below piece is similar to Worms, which is one of the first creative writing pieces I posted to the site.

***********

The pain kept building over the last hour,

It was an inconvenience,

Then an annoyance,

And then agony,

It forced me out of bed and to my bathroom mirror,

The pain seemed to move throughout the night,

But now it was firmly planted on my back,

I pulled off my shirt,

Twisting my torso to see what pulled me from my slumber,

Once I saw it,

I knew my next slumber would be my last,

There was a black lump to the left of my spine,

Pulsating,

I shuddered involuntarily,

The lump followed suit,

But it didn’t shudder,

It moved,

Gliding halfway up my back,

Until it was resting just beneath my left shoulder,

The mirror showed that my mouth was hanging open,

I wanted to scream,

But no sound would come,

I saw saliva drip from my mouth,

Yet I barely felt it,

I was hoping I would wake up from the nightmare soon,

It was a clichéd thought,

But a comforting one,

The lump started to disappear,

As if it was being absorbed into my skin,

Maybe my prayer was answered,

Once the lump was gone,

I held my breath for a few seconds,

Worried it would surface again,

I scanned the rest of my body for any signs of it,

Nothing,

I was safe,

For a few seconds,

The pain returned,

It was behind my eyes this time,

Pressure,

I looked in the mirror,

My vision was becoming blurry,

I could barely make out my eyes expanding,

Two white balloons that looked like they were ready to pop,

Everything went black,

Just before I felt my eyes burst,

Just before I heard them splatter against the mirror

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alive: Part III

Hello everyone,

I’ve been posting more excerpts of Part I and II  on instagram and they have gained some traction with some users; a little more engagement through comments and likes than some other pics. With analytics now installed it seems I got lost in vanity metrics for too long, I’m not seeing much improvement in website traffic. However, I have already put a good deal of time into building my followers so I figure I’ll continue, while also putting in more effort to promote the site via the instagram accounts. I previously had the naïve mindset that any follower or anyone who likes multiple pics, will check my profile and view the site. Then I realized there are plenty of users I follow, who link to their website in the profile. I always think that I’ll check it out when I get time but then I never do.

Using excerpts of my pre-existing pieces has given me a bank of stories to draw from, but the excerpts are now running low. I don’t like reposting often and it seems like engagement and followers dip if I do it too often. Then again, instagram users unfollow faster than users of any other platform (from personal experience) so the loss of followers could be completely unrelated.

With that said, below is part III of the Alive series. I plan to tackle a novel or perhaps a novella for this story once I complete The Visitor and Hazard.

***********

I could feel the blood swirling through my chest,

My chest was still expanding, and the blood was making its way up my throat,

My white shirt was stained as the blood lapped over my tongue and made its way into my lap,

My spine continued to elongate, it always grew fastest,

My torso now dwarfed my legs, stretching six feet away from my waist,

I looked down in time to see my arms and legs break free of the straps,

I braced for the most painful part of the transformation,

There was a deafening crack as my legs split along the femur,

Once the bone split, it began to twist and reform,

My five toes merged into three,

My skin started to shed now,

The dark brown canvas snapped like an elastic band,

Sprinkling the ground with skin and blood,

With the old skin now gone,

The new came out of hiding,

It seemed to come from beneath my flesh,

Wrapping around my muscles,

Black, almost silver under the light,

The fur came next,

I could feel the rough bristles tearing through newly formed pores,

It felt like my skin was burning,

Yet I knew it wasn’t,

My nose was already picking up new scents,

Cleaning products used days ago,

The scent of five people on the other side of the glass

Cologne, Cigarettes, Alcohol,

The food on their breath,

It was all coming to me,

Forming an image clearer than anything my eyes could give me,

The world became a swirl of greys,

All with different hues and tones,

Colour was gone, but clarity improved,

I could see grains of dirt that were invisible to me before,

I could see every pore on my arm as I stretched it in front of me,

Looking at the ground, I felt like I was floating,

Ten feet off the ground,

Two hundred pounds heavier,

Yet feeling lighter,

Baptized by pain,

In order to achieve power

 

 

Quick Update

Hello everyone,

I’m currently writing another piece for comicommand, which will hopefully be posted tonight or tomorrow on the site. I’ll then have it posted here after.

I have been posting more fiction to the wmoviegrapevine instagram. I started off posting short excerpts from some of my older poems, but then drifted towards non-fiction more since I started using daily life as more of an inspiration for my blog pieces and my instagram posts. I started returning to posting fiction pieces more often on wmoviegrapevine over the past week and have found that there has been greater engagement with this pieces: more likes and followers. I am nearly at 100 now, and was able to amass 20 new ones in a relatively short time.

Posting fiction pieces more also means that I have nearly exhausted the material from my poetry pieces. For that reason I want to start writing fiction pieces for the site more. I can then use these fiction pieces for the instagram posts and continue to build an audience. I think that this will also help me as I continue writing The Visitor again.

As I mentioned in my last update, I was caught up in vanity metrics for a while. I was paying attention to followers and likes, losing track of the main purpose of the account: getting more followers to the site. I have now installed Google Analytics but wish I had done it earlier. Now I can’t see if anything I’ve done with my social media since the beginning has helped to increase site traffic. All I can do now is monitor the traffic from this point on.

 

 

The Haunting

Hello everyone,

Wrote a piece for my @wmoviegrapevine Instagram account this morning, which inspired this piece.

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I put the car in park, turning the wheels to the right so that the car wouldn’t roll down the steep driveway behind me. I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck, preparing myself for the gust of wind that would greet me once I opened the door. The door opened, but the wind never came.

I had to step out of the car only thirty yards away to open the gate. The wind was strong enough to shut the car door behind me. As I looked back at the gate, I could see it swinging, pulling and pushing against the chain. All around me, leaves were being ripped off branches and were sailing overhead. Yet as I took a closer look I saw that the leaves never blew past me. All around me, they seemed to hit a certain point, and then turn back.

The leaves were forming an orb around the house, striking against an invisible wall before they continued travelling around the perimeter. For about twenty yards in every direction, this house was truly separated from the rest of the world.

The house itself was dwarfed by the land around it: Three floors of decaying wood. The old pictures showed smooth, chestnut wood. Now the planks were all chipped, seemingly hanging on by a thread in many places. The wood looked silver under the moonlight, but that was their only beauty. There were two windows facing me, both boarded shut. That was a relief, there were too many times when a trip like this began with a set of eyes watching me.

I kept the car unlocked and made my way to the front porch. I gingerly put my foot on the first step leading to the porch, feeling the wood flex under my weight. The wind still managed to drown out most of the noise. My right foot came down on the second step, while I rested my hand on the railing.

As my bare skin touched the dry, aged wood, I could feel what awaited me inside. I could feel the entity’s anger, but there was much more. This wasn’t a malevolent one. It was scared, lonely. The emotions were more pungent than anything else I’ve experienced. They seemed to rise off the wood like steam. Enveloping me, suffocating me.

Anger

I reacted poorly to a client at work today and the situation got me thinking about why I reacted the way I did. I originally didn’t want to discuss this online because it is public and my employer could see it. However, I recanted that decision and hope I don’t regret it.

While helping a customer today, I asked if I could put them on hold while I checked something on my end. Before I put the caller on hold, I heard her whisper to a co-worker that she couldn’t understand me. As a child, I had a lot of problems projecting my voice. I was even seeing a speech therapist at one point. I have improved, but to this day I do often hear that I talk fast and that my words can come out jumbled. I think it is my long history of struggling to be understood that makes me very sensitive to criticism of my volume or diction when I speak. I hate being told to repeat myself, to speak slower or to speak up. I think this insecurity was what led me to immediately call the client out on not letting me know directly that she couldn’t hear me. I criticized her for whispering to a colleague instead of letting me know and once the call was over I felt terrible for doing so. I could tell that the client was genuinely taken aback and didn’t mean to be rude with her comment.

Thinking of the experience got me thinking of a poem I wrote for my wmoviegrapevine Instagram. I don’t mean to post this as self-promotion or as a lazy repost. I feel like the words truly summed up what happened today, and it makes me think of what I need to do to become a happier, less insecure person.

******

I could feel it coming again,

Crashing through my body and slowly taking over my brain,

It contained all the worst things in me,

Bitterness, envy, insecurity,

It built up slowly and now it would come crashing out,

My body was the dam,

It needed to break me to break free