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The ListShe has a list.

She has a long, long list, spanning many pages in her notebook. There are pages upon pages, coated in a messy scrawl of blue gel ink that varies in freshness from hours to years.

Every night, she adds to it. Every night, religiously, ever since she can remember. She has to stay up as long as it takes to add whatever she can recall to her list, no matter how tired or how busy she is. If one were to happen past her house on any particular night, odds are the light would be shining brightly as she frantically scribbled in her notebook.

Her list is precious to her. She isn't proud of it, but she needs it with her always.

The l

Rose Trees Never Grow In New York City 'All I want is for someone to help me'
- Aloe Blacc.
'Think twice, 'cause it's another day for you and me in paradise'
- Phil Collins.

Times Square subway station. 8.56am. Rush hour. Hundreds of commuters are making their stressful journeys to work, power walking through the station and jostling each other to get onto their various trains. Streams of people pass through the station like swarms of bees, like wilde

Her Song.She holds on to your memory.
Keeps your picture near at all times.
Her locket.
Her bedside.
Her piano.
Dark curls and green eyes.
Perfect white teeth.
A sharp chin.
Her lover.
Arched eyebrows.
When she sits down at the keyboard to play;
She'll hear the words in her ears:
The sound of love.
'I love it when you smile..'
Her fingertips grace the keys, black and white.
Turning pink and red.
'You ARE beautiful'.
The sound of countless sunsets fills the dusty room.
Your arm flits around her shoulders, it is but a memory.
Just a memory.
You are a ghost that listens to her talk to herself.
You are the air against her lips.
You're nothing but a memory

Almost Human - Chapter 2: Not as it SeemsCome on Batsy baby! Let us add another wonderful dance to our grand play!" the Joker laughed manically, arms thrown in the air as if reaching to his Batman for an embrace.

Batman charged for him, that crazed laughter rang agonizingly in his mind. He had to silence that unbearable laughter! He pulled back and punched the Joker in the face with all his might. Almost immediately Joker was bleeding profusely from his nose, he stumbled backwards but he kept smiling. He didn't stop; he connected numerous punches and kicks until the clown crashed onto the ground. With weak giggles he managed to lift himself up and dusted himself off.

"Oh darling,

BraveryBravery, some people say, isn't a thing that a lot of people have, and cowardice is what most of the population of this world thrive upon. Unfortunately, many people agree with this theory, which is just as disappointing as it is stupid and ignorant. Now who ever decided upon this opinion, I would like to wring your neck and leave you out in the sun to shrivel up and die - but that would take a whole lot of bravery, and according to you, bravery isn't something I have, is it? I think, if you decided that everyone else around you lacks all the bravery that you have then I think that really, it is you who is the coward. Because only a coward wo

Song of The Black ButterfliesThe young man leaned against the stone pillars of the large balcony, decorated with flowers of all colors and sizes, neatly placed between the large veins, which wrapped around the entire wall of the mansion.
As dusk gave way to the early darkness of the night, he proceeded to turn off, the otherwise brightly glowing torches placed along the long wall.
Allowing the light which breathed life into the balcony to slip away, with the exception of the study door, which he had purposefully left open.
Through it, a dim light managed to pierce the vast darkness, just barely making a presence, almost like a falling drop of water in the vast sea.
The m

Distant TravelAbsent.
Far away.
Travelling soul.
Home.

Reminder"Why--why do you hate me?" he snapped brokenly. "I've never--never done anything to you. But you hate me."
"I don't hate you."
"Really? Because I see the way you act around me--quiet and distant. You don't laugh when I'm in the room. But you're different with everyone else. When you can't see me, you're loud, happy... What did I do?" He seems defeated, slumping back.
She feels horrid.
"It's not really your fault," she says slowly, looking away. "I'm sorry. I like you. I really do."
"Then why?
She sighs.
"You remind me of someone. I loved them, but they're gone now. Sometimes, I look at you and I see their face. You'll say something and I hear their voice. I feel... guilty, I guess, for liking you. Things didn't end well between us."
He pauses. "I'm sorry, I didn't..."
"No, it's fine. I needed to get over it anyway."
He nods, getting up to leave.
"Just so you know," he says, "I really like you, too."

The Real MonsterThis is it.
This power....
This is the power to change the world.
In my hands....
In
MY
hands.

Only
MY
hands.

I can do it.
I can change the world.
I can bring peace.
I can bring prosperity.
I can help people.
I can save lives.
I can do it.
I have the power.
This power, resting within me.

However, progress requires sacrifice.
People may die.
People will die.
Does that make it my fault?
I, who only wanted to make things better?
Why am I the one to blame?
People die every day; deaths completely unrelated to the actions of any one person.
Why, then, do you insist on opposing me?
What have I ever done to you?
All I want is to bring change.
I ca

EmbraceSky Bridge -
Horizon's end
meets earth.

EspinasCada vez que me pongo a pensar en lo que hice me siento... mal. Mis manos empiezan a temblar, y mi mirada se nubla poco a poco. Supongo que es el efecto del remordimiento, o quizás es mi mente tratando de asustarme; son emociones fuertes que, incluso a esta edad, no puedo soportar. Siempre intenté mostrarme fuerte, pero no pude. Mi cuerpo era más que suficiente, eso sí, pero mis ganas de seguir luchando siempre disminuían, siempre eran destruidas por alguien cuyas inseguridades, odios e inestabilidad mental eran mayores. Siempre me molestó, pero no hice nada al respecto por... ¿veinte añ

You're doing it wrong.I sat alone for hours before I saw her. Rising slowly next to me, the truth appeared.
First I helped her shaking off the remnants of tiny lies which remained attached to her body.
-You’re doing something wrong. - She then said in a soft and brittle voice.
Truest of the truths. Naked and raw. Lost and still hiding. I pulled her by her fragile and delicate hand. Sad body consumed by the monsters created by the ones to whom I’d spoken. But, unavoidably, she started slipping away once more.
The poor little thing clung to my arm contracting her week muscles. She tried and tried and tried.
I knew she would fall and disappear before my

absentforever searching,
absent minded,
always alone.

Imagine A Hill And A ManYou see a man, probably in his late twenties. He's standing on a tall hill. More specifically, a precipice.

What's he doing up there?

This man was married. Emphasis on was.
His wife died weeks earlier, and he was in a deep hole that he could barely climb out of if he tried.

His thoughts lingers on her as he stood on that hill, a slight breeze blowing through his hair. He thinks he has nothing else to live for and he thinks of all of the things he's accomplished. And of how selfish he's been lately, and even throughout his life. He thinks of how he neglected some of his friends, and in some cases, completely abandoned them. The only things

Judgement (short story)Sally was a happy girl. Friendly, helpful, someone people enjoyed being around. Sally grew up in a family that liked Orange juice. Everyone in her family liked Orange juice. Sally also had some close friends who enjoyed Orange juice.

One day Sally met another girl who she became fast friends with. Sally eventually found out that this girl did not like Orange juice, but preferred Apple juice. Sally questioned her one day, asking her why she didn't like Orange juice. The girl simply replied "I don't hate Orange juice, I just prefer Apple juice."

The girls response confused Sally, as Sally couldn't see how Apple juice could be better than Oran

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24From a time line. Solicitously encrypted in my mind.

Quiet, still, unmoving. Just as everything is every time the clock strikes half-past noon.
Cloudless. It was gray out, though it was still warm:
a drop lazily trickled across his forehead;
like clockwork, his heart and his pulse tapped as if in a trance, following a rhythm without its notes;
eyes closed, breathing paced. He seemed to have drifted so far away, yet he was just there. In a doze. Tranquil. Like nothing could go wrong. Not now, not while he was with her.
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'Yamang pinatatagal ang pananatili, lalim ay hihigit.
Isaisip: marami pang nakahihigit ang nakalaan para lang sa atin.
Panahon na para bumitaw at matuto.
Bumangon na at silayan ang panibagong umaga.
Maging malaya.

SmolderA small thin thing lies in hand.
So small a thing which actually can make lots of difference, being unexperienced--now experienced.
Spirals and puffs appear seemingly from nowhere.
When actually it came from that same undersized baton.

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LangoKasabay ng pagkawala ng tama sa nilagok na serbesa ang pagkawala ng ngalan nya sa alaala.

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131207

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Dementia

by ~talangpula, Nov 20, 2008, 4:16:20 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Philosophy & Perspectives

Five.
She becomes lucid every once in a while, snaps out of her deepest enigma--from that dreamless sleep that she has been having from the longest time since she saw that white
light.

Four.
She tries to focus. Trying to recall where she is, what date it was and who she is.

Three.
She inhales deeply; it has been a long time since she has done that. She tries to sit up.

Two.
She hears noises--people around crying out for attention, rushing in the dimly lit room that she occupies.

One.
She is losing vision. She tries to speak as a yellow light is beamed onto her eye; it seems to be getting farther and farther. The anxious voices around her becomes muted by the millisecond.

Blank.

270408

Dementiaby ~talangpula

Literature / Prose / Fiction / Philosophy & Perspectives

©2008-2013 ~talangpula

This actually is a short story for me.

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Mood: Wow!

~ScarletAnneBlack Apr 30, 2011 Hobbyist General Artist

This is very well written.

Reply

~talangpula May 2, 2011

Thank you, much appreciated.

Reply

~ScarletAnneBlack May 2, 2011 Hobbyist General Artist

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