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Saturday, July 7, 2007

Creative writing or whatnot

Ill 1 had us try an interesting brainstorming method this time. Just sit down for fifteen minutes and write about a event or dream with a somber mood and one with a cheerful mood. I had some fun with my somber one:

Waking from the nightmare, one of cold, stark bitterness. Death and despair still remains, taking physical form in a sticky layer of grime. Its tackiness is ever encompassing, like the dull buzz of an electric amp. Too subtle to ascertain its origin, but deafening in its persistence. Sanity begins to slip, the world dissipating before my eyes. Out of focus, in and out. What is real and what remains from my dream I do not know. The ever important line that splits these two worlds has become to fade. Darkness, chaos, and lack of reason starts to invade my world. It creeps into the sanctity of the pristine room. Like a shadow in the waning light of dawn, it appears not to move, yet when one looks away for a mere moment, it has creped closer. It moves only when unseen, forever mysterious, odd, and deadly. The stark contrast between the two sides create an uncomfortable vibration in between. Static, yet seemingly unable to pick its place, as if its mere presence defies all logic. I grab my warm, trying to hold onto reality. To my horror, my grip is unanswered. Flesh tears from bone, like moss from a rotting log. A handful of flesh. My flesh. Solid turns to liquid. Oozing black runs up my arm. The stench unthinkable. Liquid turns to dust. As black turns into grey, the tiny particles begin to float away. An action of not randomness, but one of purpose, being swallowed by the darkness which should not be.