Month: March 2015

Finally I Have Done It

Okay guys, after weeks and months of promising to write the online series, The Land That Never Was, I have finally done it. I have divided it into about five chapters (for now), Ink, Burn, Freeze, Shatter and Forge respectively. The first chapter of Ink is not completed but still available – Charlie. I’ll try and update every week or five days. So bear with me. I’m also working on the Percy Jackson Versus Sherlock Holmes. With all of this stuff going on thanks for everything.

The Icognito Writer

The Land That Never Was – Book 1 Ink – Chapter 1 Charlie

It was always new to him, the smells, the sights, the fell. He never had any trouble getting up in the morning; if nothing else, he woke up with the attitude and happiness of a kid on Christmas morning. Today was no different: Charlie James Hethrow woke up in the same pale beige room at around 4 in the morning. He stood up from his bed and drank the water that was by his bedside. He fetched four buckets of water; two for his parents, one for his breakfast and one for the shower. The water was cold but no colder than usual, as the cool liquid splashed over his slender frame all he could think of was his upcoming day. Today, Ezra was coming to the printing press and he promised that the next time he came, he would bring Charlie something special. He was excited.

It was always new to him, the smells, the sights, the feel. He never had any trouble getting up in the morning; if nothing else, he woke up with the attitude and happiness of a kid on Christmas morning. Today was no different: Charlie James Hethrow woke up in the same pale beige room at around 4 in the morning. He stood up from his bed and drank the water that was by his bedside. He fetched four buckets of water; two for his parents, one for his breakfast and one for the shower. The water was cold but no colder than usual, as the cool liquid splashed over his slender frame all he could think of was his upcoming day. Today, Ezra was coming to the printing press and he promised that the next time he came, he would bring Charlie something special. He was excited.

After the shower, he went back to his room where his worn out uniform hung on the cabinet door, freshly ironed the night before. He quickly got dressed, went downstairs to make toast and boiled broccoli, no eggs or butter except on Sunday. He drank the toast down with warm milk before saying goodbye to his mom for the day. His dad had already left when he was shower and would be back after he had gone to sleep. Charlie started his 1 and a half hour long walk to the printing press. He walked off the winding roads of Fort Richardson onto the most winding road of Kingston Ville, Kingston Boulevard. The road spread out across the entire state and leads to all the towns in Kingston Ville. However it was also the most feared road; its winding roads lead a traveller on a never ending journey, many tales have been told about men who spend the rest of their lives navigating the road. But the worst thing about the road is Sulphur Forests: forests cursed by the Great Wizards during the New World War. It is claimed that the trees themselves emit acid that causes the throat to burn and the eyes to smolder, hence its name.

On most days Charlie didn’t mind walking on the road, he liked to talk to himself and the lack of another soul never bothered him in the slightest. He would usually take his time walking but today he walked at a brisker pace than usual. He wasn’t scared but be felt uneasy. He felt it in the air, he felt it in the earth, he felt it in the wind; a slight chill. It wasn’t too cold but it was cold enough to make him grab his coat and increase his pace even more. He walked quickly, wanting to get to the warm and safety of the press. He stopped and looked; he had passed the press, he had to turn back. He turned around and began walking, rather quickly, back to the press.

“Turn”, he heard a whisper. Faint, soft, quieter than a mouse. Charlie thought he was dreaming, there wasn’t a single soul out, no person or animal ever ventured farther than the press, it was just too dangerous. “Turn.” He heard it again, but this time he knew he wasn’t dreaming. He pinched himself just to be sure.

Charlie didn’t bother turning around, he sprinted back towards the press. He didn’t think about the fact that the whispers were coming at him from all around, that they felt like a mist that sucked all the air out of his lungs. The whispers felt heavy, which each whispers his foot steps slowed, the weight was crushing him. He was tempted to give up and let the trees take him. He fell to his feet, breath heavy, and turned around to find nothing but empty air. He was at the press. Charlie full of joy and discomfort collapsed on the steps of the press which was where the press manager, a balding Mr.Oriel found him fifteen minutes later.

You Must Play Basketball?

I’m a 6 foot 2, slender black man. I write books, make songs and do a lot of different stuff. Yet the first question people ask when they see me is “Do you play basketball?” While I do play basketball, and I do enjoy it, it becomes annoying when people ask me if my I play basketball. For gawd’s sake their are a lot of basketball players that are shorter than I am and are way better than I am. Why. Why? WHY!!!!!!!!

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Plead the Fifth.”

The Walk

I started walking, I didn’t care where I was going, where I had been, i just started walking. I didn’t notice my surroundings; my ears were filled with sound. I was hearing headphones, not the cool ones but the worn out ones. The ones that had terrible sound quality but you still wore even though you knew they were ugly. The ones that showed you what true music was, the ones that you can’t ever let go of. The ones that thought you that sometimes, sometimes the journey is more important than the destination. And when I got to my destination, I walked back the other way…

#fiction, #short, #happy

Last Words

I know we have been through some tough times, some emotional roller coasters; ups and downs. So here are my last words:

“See you later suckers!” – JK

“Thanks for the great time, and telling my my rubbish is amazing. You are awesome, though not as amazing as me.”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Last Words.”

Do Not Watch Or Suffer The Consequences

Dear Future Citizens/Conquers/Oppressed/Feminists/Patriarchy of Earth,

Do you even read? Do you comprehend english? Avez-vous encore lire? Comprenez-vous français? We have put so many signs asking you do not watch, but well, you didn’t listen did you. Well we warned you, I’m guessing three tons of uranium surrounded by 500 tonnes of lead wasn’t good enough for you. Anyways, since you made it this far, here are the contents:

Taylor Swift’s Shake It Off – We didn’t like it either

Iggy Azalea’s Fancy – We warned you

Joself Salvat’s Open Season – Not all our music was bad

James Bay’s Hold Back The River – Told you some of it was good

A Swastika  – NOT GOOD, I repeat DO NOT COPY AT ANY COSTS

The ultimate american burger – Tasted good, right? You now have diabetes

My mixtape – Hey, I still wanna sell my cd

A date and address- Once time machines are invented, go here

An Xbox 1 and PS4 – Decide which is better

A MacBook – Looks nice but it sucks

‘In No Way Meant To Offend Anyone)

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Time Capsule.”

Mr.Confident

It was a terrible day; it seemed like the earth was having a bad hair day. The wind blew with the ferocity of a hurricane, rain pouring out more cats than the lady across the street had room for. All in all, it was hell, but that didn’t stop Mr.Confident. He entered his car and drove straight down the wet road towards the centre of the town (which also happened to be the centre of the storm but coincidences right?). As drivers faltered right and left of him, he maintained a relatively straight line and entered his workplace. He strode straight into his office, drenched in rain, but somehow he managed to pull it off (luckily he wore no makeup). He had a wonderful day.

Yeah, that’s not me. I’m confident that I can write well, I’m not confident that I’m a good writer, but I always try me best so … Mr.Semi-Confident.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “I Have Confidence in Me.”

What Is Life – Joy

What is life

I ask myself as I feel the light spreading out

I feel lighter than air

The warmth crawls in


Am I alive

Another question I ask

As the joy lifts me

Can you go higher I ask


What is the purpose of life

What’s its aim

Is it to heal

Is it to tame


Tame the joy within me

But there is always something left

Laughing, smiling

That joy cleft


I’m surrounded by light

Immersed in the flood

I can’t see it in the darkness, but I can feel it

Kept at bay by the flood


As I try to swim, to stay afloat

Drowning in hope

Drowning in joy

I feel lighter than air, and up I go


I laugh

I laugh some more

I laugh and laugh

And I laugh some more


What is life I ask

And why does it love me so



#joy, #poems, #poetry, #what-is-life

What Is Life – Depression

What is life

I ask myself as I feel the darkness closing in

Strangling me with fear

Covering me in sin

 

Am I alive

Another question I ask

As the pain cuts me

With a bloody Axe

 

What is the purpose of life

What’s its aim

Is it to kill

Is it to maim

 

As the panic grips me

Like bullets

Shooting, tearing off my skin

Until there’s nothing left

 

I wash my hands

Wash away the blood

I can’t see it in the darkness, but I can feel it

Surrounding me like a sick, twisted flood

 

As I try to swim, to stay afloat

Drowning, looking for hope

Hope to hold me like a rope

That rope tears, and down I go

 

I claw

I scratch and claw

I claw and claw

Trying to find a way out till I can’t move no more

 

What is life I ask

And why does it hate me so

#sad #poetry