It's Friday and that can only mean one thing!

That's right!  It's a day for SENTENCES!  For this week, I'm adding yet another twist to my work.  Not only did I write sentences, I based them all on songs.  It was fun listening to my mp3 player and being inspired by random songs.  I'll link them so you all can listen to them.

-disclaimer: some of the song snippets are taken out of context.

April 24
If Emilie Autumn is to be believed and dead is the new alive, then I've been living it up for years.
(Emilie Autumn - Dead is the New Alive)

April 25
I took a stroll along the bank of the languid river of dreams.
(Billy Joel - River of Dreams)

April 26
Dad, I hate to admit it, but the one you warned me all about... you were right.
(Madonna - Papa Don't Preach)

April 27
Some call it being caught in a bad romance, I call it intrigue.
(Lady Gaga - Bad Romance)

April 28
If you think that misery will break you, it probably will.
(Yasmeen - Gone)

April 29
It was only a matter of time before the silver-plated hero took a nosedive off the pedestal of grace.
(Alan Parsons Project - Dancing on a High Wire)

April 30
I dream of nights in white satin, but end up in black and red silk.
(Moody Blues - Nights in White Satin)

You know the rules!  Vote for a sentence and I'll expand.

Aoede (redux)

See?  I promised I would get the post out today.  I keep my writing promises.


~*~*~


"So," Rhea said as she flounced in, "let's see this song you've been working on!  I'm dying to read it.  You always used to write nice songs.  And it's been a shame you haven't been doing so lately.  So come on, hand it over."


Jane laughed and walked over to the kitchen.  "Would you like something to drink?  I can offer wine or something harder.  Or water, if you prefer that right now."


Rhea shucked off her jacket and hung it up on the coat rack.  "A glass of red wine would be wonderful, if you have any."  She plunked herself down on the love seat in front of the TV and stretched out, groaning.  "Man, things have been so stressful lately.  Which brings me around to... what have you been into that you haven't been writing?  I mean, you used to do it so religiously!"


Taking a bottle from the fridge, Jane sighed.  "I don't know what's gotten into me.  I just haven't been inspired by anything.  It's like the worst form of writer's block.  If I did try to write something, it was like drinking cod liver oil!  It was horrid, or at least I thought it was horrid."  She poured the red into a small wine glass.  "I can't really describe it better than that.  It was the block and then a total lack of desire to write because I didn't want to produce crap.  And no, my musical compositions weren't any better."


Nodding, Rhea accepted the glass from her friend.  "I guess I can understand that.  I've never felt it, but it makes sense."  She sipped it and smiled appreciatively.  "And excellent taste in wine.  NOW!" She straightened up.  "Song lyrics.  I must see them right this instant."


"Well..." Jane hedged, ambling over to the kitchen table and picking up her notebook, "it's not finished.  Far from it.  And don't laugh, either.  These are really just an outline."


"Bah!  Excuses.  Hand it over!"  Jane sighed, but walked back and held out the paper.  Rhea took it, taking another sip from her glass.  She then set her glass on the table and leaned to rest her elbows on her knees.


"The earth quivers
But even in its fear
It cannot hide itself
From the scouring wind and rain
Which strip away the hope of new life


A sweeping expanse of barren earth
A fallow field waiting
For the rain that doesn't come
It's flowers waiting to grow


The field stands waiting
The waters start rising
And the flood waters flow

The distant horizon is an orange haze
Burning with a cleansing fire
Destroying and renewing
Waking the land for the coming water."  Rhea smiled.  "Wow!  I really like it!  This is an awesome start and I really like where it can go.  Lots of symbolism.  But There's a lot more you can do with it."


~*~*~


So, I finally put all the parts of the song that I wrote into one place.  Feels good to have it organized.  Now I just need to finish the song.  I'll probably describe Rhea in the next post.  I haven't really had a chance to visualize her yet.

Aoede

Sorry for the non-update guys.  It was a bad day at work, so I just curled up and avoided the real world by playing WoW.  And yes, alas, doing this is part of my real world. lol

Anyway, I promise I'll make up the update today after work, regardless of what kind of day I have.

See you guys later!

The Response

Dear Miss,
I read your letter and I would like to say
Being a guy is not all fun and games.
Guys have to always be fit and buff
So we can prove our masculinity or be attractive
To the fairer sex.
We have to wear the perfect cologne so we always smell nice.
We have to balance being strong with being sensitive.
Do you know how hard that is, knowing when to comfort
And when to get all cute and defensive?
We have to constantly "prove" ourselves in all these
LITTLE ways.
And we always get blamed for being immature,
regardless of how we act.
Those hormones we have raging through us,
from puberty on out, makes us prone to stupidity.
Our sex drive is a double-edged sword!
So, Miss, it really isn't easy being a guy.

Alright, I know.  It's not the best possible response I could have written.  But you'll have to excuse my not being a guy, eh?  :D

She saved my life and I hated her for it.   I didn't really want to die.  And I didn't really feel like living.  I was just floating along, lost in the haze of my life.  Then she walked into my life and everything changed.  And if I seem bitter, it's because I am.  It wasn't any sort of instant attraction.  I don't even love her.  She certainly doesn't love me.  You could probably argue that, before her, my life was a downward spiral.  Somehow she managed to badger me into doing something productive.  And it all started with a swift kick in my ass.

As he sat huddled by the fire, shivering in his totally inadequate windbreaker, Frank wondered, once again, why he'd let his friends talk him into such a hairbrained scheme.  He was cold and he was cranky and he was the only one awake.  Hell, he was the only one who even seemed to have a problem with their current situation.  "We'll be fine!" they said.  "It's nice out, we'll be plenty warm at night," they said.  "We don't need any gear, we'll live off the land," they said. It was day 3, no food and no gear.  The only reason there was fire was because Frank remembered how to make it from his days in Boy Scouts.  "I'm never letting them talk me into this woodsy, camping, creature hunting crap again!" he muttered, jabbing his stick into the fire viciously.


Okay, so I admit, I honestly hadn't thought about what I wanted to write for either of those.  I think the first came out better than the second.  But a valiant effort for both, in my opinion.

Frantic Friday

I'm scrambling for purchase as my weekend slips from me.

April 17

As he sat huddled by the fire, shivering in his totally inadequate windbreaker, Frank wondered, once again, why he’d let his friends talk him into such a hairbrained scheme.

April 18

Staring up at the sky, she hoped, briefly, that someone would come and whisk her away to a place where she could be who and what she wanted to be.

April 19

She saved my life and I hated her for it.

April 20

I don’t know what it is about him but, no matter how much I try to resist, he can seduce me with a smile.

April 21

I have ever been about self-control and now I find myself in a position where control is taken from me.

April 22

Here at Syndicated Incorporated, we promise to rerun only your least favorite shows with as many commercial interruptions as we possibly can.

April 23

The call me the saboteur.




Tell me your choices, dear readers!  I eagerly await them.  Be interesting to see which ones you guys like.

Aoede

I fear this may be an extremely short post.  I'm waiting for a raid to fill up and... I honestly don't feel that creative right now.  BUT!  It's Wed and I much write something.  I will not give up my schedule so soon.

~*~*~*~

Jane switched the phone to her other ear, chewing on a hangnail on her thumb.  "I don't know what it is, Rhea.  She claims she's some sort of ancient Greek goddess of inspiration!  I know, it sounds laughable.  But since I talked to her, I've kinda felt like writing.  So I don't really know what to think."

"Whatever it is, it sounds like something good.  I wouldn't worry about it.  I mean, it can't hurt to just go with the flow, right?"  Rhea's voice was made slightly tinny by the phone.

"I guess you're right.  Hey, you wanna come over and hang out for a bit?  We haven't seen each other in a while.  Maybe you can help me flesh out this song and write some music for it.  I've always appreciated your input."

"Um... yeah, sure.  I've got a few hours free.  I'll be right over. See ya soon."  The line went dead as Rhea hung up.  Smiling, Jane closed her cell and tucked it into her pocket.  It had been a day since she wrote the refrain and second verse.  She still felt like writing, but didn't want to rush it.  Go with the flow, but don't put out crap, she supposed.

-------

Aoede stared at the ceiling of her room.  It was painted a midnight blue, complimenting the colors on the walls.  As she stared, in her imagination, stars and galaxies whirled across the expanse of her ceiling.  The dance of the cosmos was something she missed keenly, but there was always a world of things to explore on Earth.  Sitting up, she reached for the brush on her bedside stand, ran it through her hair, and tied it back in a tail.  With the thick locks pulled off her face, her striking features were more clear.  And those features looked pensive at the moment.

Where are you... why did you stop coming?... Thanks for... Something to write... Haven't in so long...


Snippets of thoughts, directed at her or about her flooded her mind.  All people she looked over.  She couldn't visit all of them all the time, but she did her best.



Eh, a shitty place to end it, but see beginning of post.

Dear Sir

Today's poem will be part one of two.  Letter poems, if you wish to describe them as such.  Don't know where they'll take me.  But I go where they will.


Dear sir,
I would like to inform you that it is,
In fact,
Incredibly difficult to be a woman.  You men
You have it so easy.  You don't have to worry
about things like the right perfume, perfectly applied make-up, appealingly plump lips,
batting eyelashes, keeping trim because thin is always in, having perky breasts,
fitting into dresses, or a million other things.
Or proving that you have a brain behind the bombshell exterior, that you have business savvy
And can make a profit.  There's no glass ceiling for you, no sir.
There's no need for you to prove that you're more than a vapid, simpering
pile of womanly nerves and flighty thoughts.
You don't have to be demure or "ladylike."
In fact, you get laughs when you... expel gas from either end.
Nor do you have to censor your thoughts so that people will accept you
in "polite society."
So, please, sir, tell me.  Just how have you managed to get it so easy?


And now for those paragraphs you've all been waiting for!  I'm opting for two this time.


"No matter how long you know someone, they always have a secret.  That's my experience at least.  I remember Libby."  My cigarette glowed a dull red-orange in the night.  "We knew each other for years.  She was a quiet thing, soft-spoken and dainty.  She trusted too easily, but walked through life with more personal joy than anyone I ever knew.  It was a facade only.  The face she showed to the public and to her friends, no matter what was going on with her life.
"They say it's always the quiet ones, ya know?  I know what you're thinking," I said softly, taking a drag from the cig in my hand.  "This isn't some tale of a depressed woman who wants nothing more than to die.  No, as I said, Libby was full of joy.  Nor is it some tale of pining for lost love.  As long as I knew her, she never dated anyone, never even expressed interest in someone and she had a few suitors.
"No, you see, it may not seem shocking out of context, but Libby was the owner of an upscale fetish club.  Demure office worker by day, slinky vixen by night.  A secret, of course.  And not the first, or only one she had.  Ah, but this may just seem like I'm rambling to you.  But she is only one example.  We all have secrets, you and I.  Dark little corners so covered in locks and cobwebs even we're afraid to open them to the light."  I laughed, a bitter sound.


Okay, that was a bit long.  It's not initially where I was going to take it, but I rather like the direction it went.  Comments are appreciated, as always!


I have never been able to find a place in my house where I can curl up with a good book, a drink, and some music and not be found.  It's a small house.  Just enough room for us.  But is has no secrets.  No way to lock the door and tune out the sound.  It has acoustics good enough to hear shouting just about anywhere.  And this lack of privacy grinds away, day after day after day.  It's like being in public every moment of your life, no place to unwind and relax or cool off after a fight.  People just barging in and out.  I'm not sick of it, exactly, but I do wish there was something more I could do.  Parents coming to ask me what I'm doing.  A brother who sees fit to be a constant thorn in my side.  Oh yes, I wish there was something more I could do.


Meh.  That was mediocre at best.  It's a good sentence, but just not one that I felt was easy to expand, ya know?

Fantastic Friday

It's Friday and that can only mean one thing!  I offer my humble sentences and YOU choose a some for me to turn into glorious paragraphs.

April 10

No matter how long you know someone, they always have a secret.

April 11

Sweat dripped down his face, stinging his eyes.

April 12

I have never been able to find a place in my house where I can curl up with a good book, a drink, and some music and not be found.

April 13

I could have done better if I shat on my hand and spread it on paper!

April 14

Hooded sweatshirts are a blessing and a curse, but only if you use them right.

April 15

It is important to understand the difference between sex and gender.

April 16

“Baby, you’re the BD to my SM.”

Shakespeare was right when he called it a tale told by an idiot.

You’re all about tension and I’m nothing but flexion.




Today has three sentences because I just couldn't bear to break those three up.  I wrote them today at work and just loved all of them.


I eagerly await your sentence verdict. (I'm working OT tomorrow, so definitely won't get them tom but I'll try to have 'em done before the weekend is over.)

Aoede

I would just like to point out that watching Glee does HORRIBLE things for my writing.  I mean, like REALLY bad things.  But I must push through it (read, Glee is loading) to get to work on today's blog post.  Heh... I had some more lyrics written, but I seem to have misplaced the sticky notes so it's a wing and a prayer right now.

Did I mention Glee does bad things?  *shame*

~*~

Aoede leaned against Jane's desk, crossing her arms.  "It's definitely a start.  Don't forget a refrain."  She chuckled to herself.  "We're not writing ballads here."

Jane glanced up at her, then back at her paper.  She felt something tickling at the back of her head and her hand twitched.  It wasn't uncomfortable, just really odd.  "Would you mind going now?  I think I'll work better if you're not staring over my shoulder all the time.  It feels really creepy and... itchy."  Aoede shrugged and vanished.  "And how the hell does she do that?" wondered Jane to herself.

---

Mneme's dark eyebrows rose high over her red wire frame glasses.  "You were gone longer than I expected you to be," she commented.  A small huff of breath puffed a curl of auburn hair off her face.  "Did she actually talk to you, or did you lurk around like you always do?"

"No, we talked.  Though she wasn't happy about me 'just popping in on her,' as she put it.  I can't understand it.  No-one's minded before.  Anyway, she wrote some lines.  And once I calmed her down, she managed to write a few more.  Asked me to leave, though.  Said me being there felt itchy."

"Well, I suppose I can understand that, to an extent.  You are inspiration, your presence might have some side effects.  Probably more so if the person is aware of your presence.  But who knows?  Up until now, we've never really been allowed to directly interact with mortals."

"I suppose you're right."  Aoede sighed and looked around at the cozy apartment she shared with her sisters.  "I'm rather tired.  I think I'll go and rest a bit.  I still have other people to visit today."  Mneme just nodded and turned her eyes back to the paper she was reading.

---

Jane narrowed her eyes at the paper before her.  Having Aoede leave hadn't really helped that itchy feeling.  It was still there, in the back of her head.  Like an itch on your back you can never reach without help.  She wanted to write!  But nothing seemed to follow the vein her song had already taken.  She dropped her pen on the desk and stood, stretching, hearing her back crack all the way down.  "What do you want me to wri...."

She plunked herself back down and picked the pen.  For the next few minutes the room was filled with nothing but the sound of Jane's breathing and the scratch of her pen against the paper.

"Refrain:
The field stands waiting
The waters start rising
And the flood waters flow

V2:
The distant horizon is an orange haze
Burning with a cleansing fire
Destroying and renewing
Waking the land for the coming water."

"Well, I guess that's something," Jane said as the itchy feeling finally subsided.  There were a lot of black marks on the page from where she crossed things out.  "Part of a refrain and a second verse."

Let the words flow like water

Bleagh.  This temp job is draining all the creativity from my soul.  BUT I WILL PERSEVERE!  DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU WILL NOT WIN!  *endminirant*

A sleek shadow,
There at the edge of your vision,
Alternately pacing reclining lurking.
A flash of eyes, slow blinking staring
You feel like a hunted animal
You are just prey, reeking of fear,
Quaking knees, nervous gestures, heart in your throat, tasting your pulse
breathingsofastyou'llpassout
You're not in any wild, untamed place in nature
You're in "civilization"

Don't know where that came from, but I kinda like it.  ^^

Okay, and another belated paragraph.

"That's when you realize you only have one redeeming quality."

Lazy.  Obstinate. Bitch.  Where do you get it from?  Why, from you, dear parent, from you.  I'm human, just like you.  I have your flaws and I have my own.  Stupid.  You act like you're two. I'll never be more than that to you.  Those arguments where you feel like you're more than inferior, that reduce you to helpless tears and make you scream until your throat is raw.  And still you don't get anywhere except tired, and angry, and puffy eyed, and looking for a place to cool down (even if you know you'll still be angry the next day).  Those times when you hurt someone without meaning it.  Or when you do mean it, you're cruel on purpose, crushing someone else so that you might (for a fleeting moment) feel better about yourself.  Ignoring someone just because they're annoying you or because you don't feel like talking to them.  That's when you realize you only have one redeeming quality.  Whatever it is: a good sense of humor, a generous spirit, your own utter lack of perfection, the ability to hold onto yourself in times of adversity... Whatever it is, it makes you you.

Then Friday Tradition Continues

As I've done the past couple weeks, I open these up to you guys.  What do you want to hear about this week?

April 3

I have an almost sexual love for the English language.

April 4

I have seen, sitting atop a hill in Assisi, the sprawling green of the Italian countryside.

April 5

The hard physical labor of planting our garden was more satisfying than any day spent at work.

April 6

It’s the every day gems, those little bits of joy, that make life worth living.

April 7

If you ever have the brilliant idea of scoring an ISAT, forget it if you value your sanity!

April 8

It was like driving through fog as thick as pea soup, only the fog was in my brain.

April 9

That’s when you realize you only have one redeeming quality.

Aoede

Probably getting tired of that title at this point, eh?  ;)  It would probably be a good idea to actually come up with some sort of title for it.  Eh, whatever.  It's time to do some writing!

~*~*~*~

Jane threw down the towel, her hands clenching at her sides.  All her concern was gone, replaced by anger.  "Is that all you came here for?  To look at a few crappy lines on a sheet of paper?  IS THAT ALL I'M GOOD FOR?!"

Aoede jumped from the chair and held her hands out in front of her.  "I'm sorry.  No.  But I felt you writing and I thought I could help you.  Honestly.  I really like what you've got started."

"You didn't think to knock?  Or enter like a normal person?  Or were you just going to stand there, leaning over my shoulder like some kind of psycho, until I noticed you were there?  This is not your world, this is mine, my room, my apartment.  Maybe you were able to do this shit when the Greeks were running around and philosophizing left, right, and center.  But not now."

Aoede pushed her long black her away from her face, blinking her gray eyes in slight confusion.  Never in her long years of inspiring people had she had such a reaction.  Always she'd been able to come and go as she pleased, even now, with all the people concerned about security and whatnot.  Then again, she'd also never really announced herself to one of her charges before.  "I'm... sorry.  I didn't realize you felt that way.  I'm not used to having to, um, announce myself when I look in on one of my charges."  She folded her long pianists fingers and shrugged diffidently.

"Don't ever do it again.  You never know what could be going on while you just decide to pop in!"  Aoede figured she knew what Jane meant, but it had happened before and not phased her in the least.  Why, some people composed their best work while having sex or masturbating.

"Alright, I won't visit you unannounced."  Jane narrowed her green eyes suspiciously, but shook her head.  She tugged on her blond hair and moved to the chair vacated by the muse.  She sank down into it and turned to look at the demigoddess.

"Did you really think the lines were okay?  I mean... they weren't too cheesy?"

Aoede just looked at her.  "Pick up your pen.  I think you should be able to write a few more lines."  Turning back to the desk, Jane did pick up her pen.  She grumbled to herself about bossy Muses who thought they knew everything about writing.  But as soon as she set the pen to paper, the words came.

As she wrote, she spoke them aloud, rolling them in her mouth to feel how they flowed.  "The earth quivers / But even in its fear / It cannot hide itself / From the scouring wind and rain / Which strip away the hope of new life."

Haiku and a Paragraph

We have a star magnolia plant in our front yard and it's current in bloom right now.  And, you guessed it, I walked by it when I leave in the morning and when I come home in the afternoon.  Each time I do, I am compelled to stop and smell its delicate scent.  Thus the inspiration for today's haiku.


The spring flowers bloom / Scent wafts on the cooling breeze / The sun is shining


I do apologize for not getting my paragraph from Friday's sentences out sooner.  But it was a religious holiday, so I suppose its understandable.  Still, I know Alachia is probably waiting for her paragraph and who am I to deny her?  Without further ado, I give you a paragraph.


"Some days I feel more like Pinocchio than a person."

Do you have those days where it feels like nothing is going right?  You're going from fallacy to fallacy, completely and tragically gullible?  And, as a result, everything gets worse.  People will lie right to your face and you won't see it.  Or you'll lie to someone and it's so obvious your nose should be a mile long.  It's the naïveté, the obliviousness of it all!  Sometimes it all works out in the end.  Still... Some days I feel more like Pinocchio than a person.

Good Friday Sentences

I rather enjoyed my exercise from last week.  So I once again leave it up to you readers what sentences I shall expand.

March 27

“If you can’t trust me, then who can you trust?”

March 28

You can’t fathom what it feels like to loose someone; and when you learn, you never wish it on anyone else.

March 29

How about this for a challenge; I can drink you under the table any day!

March 30

I never felt like I was being watched until yesterday afternoon.

March 31

Some days I feel more like Pinocchio than a person.

April 1

The echoes of her past rushed by as she walked down the halls of her family home, aimlessly searching for something she could neither name nor picture.

April 2

I survived another year and, you know, after a while that feeling of sameness just ceases to mean anything.