Drunken Word Vomit: 2014/09/10

Drunken Word Vomit: 2014/09/10

Remember this? I remember this. One shot of gin every 10 minutes, and non-stop writing until then.


My mother never taught me how to cook. She told me recipes, let me watch, introduced me to the tenderizing traits of carbonated liquids, but never once did she stand by me as the pot boiled and instructed me on the values of flavour, texture, or timing. If it were up to her I would never have…

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@1 month ago
#drinking #drunk writing #drunken free write #free writing #ramble #sloppy prose #writing 

She asked for time, I’m scared of time, All things die in time. If I didn’t love her,…

She asked for time,
I’m scared of time,
All things die in time.

If I didn’t love her,
I’d take hers till she died,
But hers is not one to be wasted.

I gave her me and I’m powerless.
She caught me,
I got Stockholm syndrome,
But there are plenty left.

I’m carp, I suppose,
A nuisance,
A proud catch to be devoured.

I bit at bait for years,
Absorbed the wounds that tore at the edges of my mouths,

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@2 months ago

100 words or less: Grapeseed

100 words or less: Grapeseed

Red wine on the mantle gone cold without a blanket, the world a refrigerator, the hot-springs tropical. In the mountains only goats are left.

We used to dream of growth, connection uninhibited to the world around us. We used to dream of growing ripe, robust. We used to dream of drying in the sun and falling to the ground to rest, to animate the dirt with our memories. We were plucked too soon.…

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@3 months ago
#100 words #flash fiction #grape #grape seed #personification #seed #short fiction #short story #writer #writing 

Carla Crowe: Ep. 1

Carla Crowe: Ep. 1

He took a hot step in the wrong direction: two left turns and a roofie for good luck. Carla was on his coat-tails, chasing his scent like a beagle hunting for gunmen in a crowded bazaar. She knew these alleys better than the resident homeless, knew the resident homeless better than they knew each other, and recognized each brick covered in aerosol from turf-wars long settled. The jungle stunk,…

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@4 months ago
#chapter #chapter 1 #character #episode #fiction #short fiction #writer #writing 

Melodramatic poetry: It’s the end of the world.

Melodramatic poetry: It’s the end of the world.

I’m writing again because I need it.
I’m writing again because words are an escape.

My blood tastes like iron,
like I’m healthy.

It’s just a prick on my finger,
tiny droplets of me
smearing against
the top letters of my qwerty.

Why can’t I just let things be? 

She told me to leave and I didn’t.
I didn’t want her to leave, either.
I wanted to grab her hair and pull her in,
kiss her and end it there…

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@4 months ago
#anger #break-up #fuck it #fuck it all #poem #poet #Poetry #stream of consciousness #this is stupid #why tag shit #writer #writing 

Flash fiction: I don’t know what this is so I’m not going to title it appropriately

Flash fiction: I don’t know what this is so I’m not going to title it appropriately

I talk to Janet a lot. She’s the only person I hold onto, but I suppose I’ll have to let her go eventually. I call her and she asks me where I am. I can’t really explain it, I tell her, but I know I’ll see you here one day. The conversation seems one-sided. She doesn’t say much after that. It was the same way with everyone else, but I didn’t mind because I had Janet. I fear she’ll leave me,…

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@2 months ago
#fiction #short fiction #short story #story #unedited #writer #writing 

New Hall

Adam’s flip-flop clapped against the skin of his heel as he crept around the corner from the hall. Simon and Kendrick followed closely behind, the latter muttering anxieties under his breath. The dinnertime candles had nearly burned through and their wax hardened atop the mahogany tables. In some cases, it dripped over the edge and crusted the seat cushions waiting patiently below. From the walls…

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@3 months ago
#flash fiction #friends #new hall #pranks #short fiction #short story #writer #writing 

Short Fiction: Storytelling

“… and about ten minutes later I was trying to fight my way out from under the airbags. She came out of nowhere, I mean a deer in headlights is one thing, but what can I do when they just jump out from the bushes?

“Oh, can you hear me okay? Sorry, it’s just I’ve never seen a microphone like this. I’ve got a few condensers at home, but this thing is a little old school. Yeah, sure, I’ll move up a…

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@3 months ago
#flash fiction #memories #monologue #short fiction #short story #story #writer #writing 

Quick Poetry: I don’t want to think, I just want you here.

Quick Poetry: I don’t want to think, I just want you here.

She’s not coming over,
not like last time or the time before.We’re too feeble,

I think.

People, objects of emotions,
of expectations, of habit.

Absolve us of our personal monotonies.
The summer is always hot,
my car is always broken,
and the moon is always in a phase,

the wires are always there, be it spaghetti or underground,
and our itunes won’t erode.
The blankets are stained, and I can’t wash…

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@4 months ago with 1 note
#I just can&039;t #poet #Poetry #writer #writing 

Flash fiction: Maybe I’m just bitter.

Flash fiction: Maybe I’m just bitter.

The man speaking is an idiot. You don’t need to know what he’s saying, and it would be upsetting to tell you. He ends every clause with a period as if everything he says is important, smokes his cigarettes between the middle and ring finger, and creates his own conflicts as a way to impress his audience when he walks them through the resolution. His audience hangs onto every word, treating him…

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@4 months ago with 1 note
#1 #bitter #envious #fame #fiction #flash #flash fiction #jealousy #writer #writing