Archive for the Writing Category

Simple Song

Posted in Song, Writing on September 7, 2008 by schizophrenicconversations

(Am, C, G)
When you met me, I was lost and I was broken
when you met me, you encouraged with words spoken
when you met me, I got lost in your eyes
when you met me, I was entranced by your guise

(Em,G,D)
O,Please don’t leave here without me
(Em,D,G)
O,Please don’t leave me behind
(Em,G,D)
O,Please don’t leave me forever
(Em,D,G)
O,Please let me stay by your side.

(Am, C, G)
Now you’re with me, I feel so alive
Now you’re with me, to share in my life
Now you’re with me, I am not alone
Now you’re with me, my love has grown

(Em,G,D)
O,Please don’t leave here without me
(Em,D,G)
O,Please don’t leave me behind
(Em,G,D)
O,Please don’t leave me forever
(Em,D,G)
O,Please let me stay by your side.

Pictures to words to pictures

Posted in Observations, Personal, Writing on August 19, 2008 by schizophrenicconversations

Writing for me is a chance to get the images out of my head and onto paper in some sort of descriptive way. I cannot draw, paint nor accurately prepare music. I cannot create life through animation nor envelope a soul in emotional speech. My only chance for creative liberation is through prose and text.

However the interesting part is not the in exact idea which is fed to letters and words (no matter the merit and sacrifice entwined with the origins) but how those are in turn translated by the minds eye of the interpreter. A very easy exercise to undertake yet still illustrates the quite interesting truth lies in simple experience. If I mention cat, what first enters your mind? A simple tabby, a fun calico or a majestic Siamese? These simple twists and turns of interpretations mixed with personal experiences assemble a wide variety of variable cocktails effectively making writing not only a tool of the mind of the originator, but of that of the interpreter.

This may seem like a stumbling block at first, deciding how to elaborate on a subject so the reader is thinking the same thing as the writer, but the magic comes from where the reader must fill in the blanks of description. Where the reader must piece together the features of a protagonists face, or the meadow in which he stands. Or if we stretch this fiction further, how about the undescribed or even mentioned features. Perhaps the readers mind places birds in that meadow, or the sounds of various insects. Again the readers personal experiences play an intense part. When you thought of the meadow, were there crickets or perhaps a rush of wind? Was there the trace scent of roses or maybe lilocs or in another extreme, manure from a farmers field? How many of those scents did you just attempt to draw from your memory? I am gleaming with delight as you read this, thinking of how you look right now, running through your mind, mining for experiences in your memory to fulfill your interpretaions. Was the grass green or the wheat yellow? Did you just see that butterfly tumble by?

Thus you begin to see how this cocktail of variables will create a personalized drink for each and every mind to draw from. There is so much beauty in this, in its unfathomable complexity. So much changes when pictures in a mind become words which then become pictures in another mind. A chaotic dance of dynamic connections.

Shameless Self Promotion

Posted in Personal, Writing on May 6, 2008 by schizophrenicconversations

Well, with another term of school behind me, I can make an attempt at writing again. I’m not sure how it will go as I do feel my writing ability has deteriorated quite a bit the last while as all I have worked on is mathematics. It scares me because it’s the only creative cathartic activity I have been able to take part in. Well, here is my very old stuff for a gander, I’ll try to get to work on a new piece soon, I promise!

http://shadowssmile.deviantart.com/

Modern Poe

Posted in Writing on January 3, 2008 by schizophrenicconversations

I wrote this without stopping, so there’s no editing, aka there may be grammar and spelling mistakes, but enjoy!

During late the midnight hour, when clock hands merge into a tower,
I sat and typed, message windows covered the screen galore,
Suddenly a link was sent, and to my browser I doth went.
When I opened browser updated to version number four
I came to dead link, a lost page, a four oh four.
Seeming only this, and nothing more.

I saw that it was a red moon, most associated with gathering gloom
Torrents ticking, hitting percentage number four,
I wished this end, so pirated movies I could send,
Thus I stood and walked to my wooden door,
Thinking of hunger I walked to my wooden door,
As I left, I heard “Nevermore”

This noise it came from speaker, my face could go no bleaker,
When I gazed to screen, there it was link four oh four,
It said at 4am on the dot, my hard drive would figuratively rot,
Curse who sent me that link from my message windows galore,
Who I now cannot find from my message windows galore,
Links I now hate, forever more.

I quickly ran the virus scanner, when quickly up popped advertisement banner
“Why did I click it”, to the gods I did implore
Furiously I tried in vain; it was like trying to stop the rain
I threw my keyboard at my door,
Watched it bang and bounce off my door.
I picked it up, and set it as before.

I try to calm my teeming flood, but my anger was a flood,
I looked at the hole now present in my door.
Ashamed something so simple, caused my mind to dishevel
But now computer cleaning would become a chore
Yes, I can beat this, I can unwork this chore
It’s only a virus, and nothing more.

I verily began to type, though my anger was still quite ripe,
Research began into this ill-begotten four oh four
I let myself a noticed gasp, as the concept I did grasp
Into this nature of this four oh four,
Into this Trojan called four oh four,
I had his, but needed more.

I loaded tools from the net, this I must beat my mind was set,
I would beat and conquer this four oh four,
As every attempt began to flounder, the noise on speaker grew much louder
It repeated as before the word only, “nevermore”
It would say it as in laughter “nevermore.”
I, hoping it was this, and nothing more.

The speakers I did power down, so I would not hear this sound.
But still I heard this nevermore.
“Am I going mad I thought”, what this virus has awrought?
The frustration caused by this four oh four
The sound in my head from this four oh four
I will remember it, forever more.

I put my ear to speakers’ side; there came no sound from inside,
It must be in my head which I hear the “nevermore”
Then I noticed the clock ticking, the edge of four it was licking
The screen began to flash the link to four oh four
Oh how it filled the room with light, this four oh four
Followed by the sound, “nevermore”

I shut it down devil’s haste, my breathing quickened, my heart raced
The screen went black, no colours it now bore.
Then it started with my hands departed,
It loaded itself and went to page four oh four,
It sat and began itself going to page four oh four
My sanity was shattered forever more.

I dropped to knees, hands clasped and feeling the breeze,
Caused from fan with silent roar.
I saw the clock tick down, second hand going round
“Please stop” to the computer I did implore,
“I won’t click it again” I did implore,
All that came, was “nevermore”

I curled up on floor ice cold, listening to virus speaking bold
When I saw the clock did strike the number four
My mind was gone, how could I have been so wrong,
To click the link to four oh four
To read that page of four oh four.
Thus my computer declared “nevermore”

When I heard the awful chime, reminding me of the time
I then looked up and saw the machine as before
The virus had run a different course, still with feeling unremorse
Leaving desktop painted in the word “nevermore”
Doing this, but nothing else, with the word “nevermore”
With my hands, my hair, I tore.

Insanity is what it left my mind, this virus so very unkind,
Leaving the message from four oh four
It haunted my misladen soul, taken its ghastly toll,
I lay on floor and mumbled “nevermore”
Could think of nothing else but “nevermore”
My mind was lost forevermore.

After gathering my composure, warming from the cold floor exposure
I unplugged the machine from one of the plugs galore
I sat and pondered the situation, feeling the built frustration
Caused from link four oh four
Oh that cursed link four oh four.
How it haunts me, forevermore.

When my strength returned at last, I began the reheartened task,
Of fixing my computer as before.
As the monitor filled the room with light, my eyes choked on ill begotten fright
As I stared at the screen much like before
Painted with the word but with more as before
This will go away, nevermore.

So to this day it happens, each time a part of my soul entrapens,
Seeing my desktop littered with the word nevermore
I have tried to great exhaustion, to not continue being hostage
By this virus from link four oh four
By this cursed being from link four oh four
But I shall be free of it – Nevermore!

O Madness!

Posted in Writing on December 22, 2007 by schizophrenicconversations

O Madness! When I sit alone, you kindly rest yourself upon my troubled mind. You circle and circle, clawing at my thoughts and feelings. Stirring said brain items until you rest your bloated being upon a now manicured placement of choice. Whereupon you claw absentmindedly at passing ideals, memories and recent epiphanies. You gaily capture items which provoke your interest. Tossing them between your wretched digits before replacing the item, though now distorted and scarred, into the flowing stream of consciousness.

Bored is what you grow at present, entertaining yourself through manifesting, by use of your foul extremities, whirlpools in the sea of knowledge. You take it upon yourself to swirl all into one, into nothing, into else. Here, after your unwelcome hand swimming, you turn your attention upon the endeavor of optical unrest. Shadow puppets cast in the sensory of the eyes, you create. Dancing, teasing, shapes, patterns, some plucked from the flow, some from the sea, others invented for your own sadistic pleasure.

A thought drifts past your current whereabouts, a curse upon your trifling. Another follows suit shortly. Here these mental assaults against you despicable being dam the flow and damn your presence. The flow rises, unable to route past the new blockage. You scramble like a cowardly sheep to search for high ground, but your assumed employment from an unwanting employer is approaching termination. Harshly you kick and flail at the dam of thought, throwing further ideals into disarray, but to no avail does the dam give way.

There, in those last moments, you wretched leech, you do feel a clawing at your tainted mind, as of something circling to find a manicured placement of choice…