Vivid - Part 2

Rob walked into school the next morning to see the results hype was still in full swing. Everyone was still asking everyone what they got, people were either letting their happiness sink in, or worrying about what this might do to their end grade. Either way it didn’t effect Rob, he just walked through the crowds of people fitting into neither category. The school Rob went to confused him, it was all one building with several floors in places, but there didn’t seem to be much of a set space for many subjects. The science department had labs in all four corridors of the school, and they were able to keep their classes rooms. Some of the other subjects had a fight on their hands to keep rooms for themselves, and some found themselves moving every year. Or in the worst cases every term. Rob was making his way to home room, he had the morning off but his Dad wouldn’t let him lie in, especially not after last night. When he woke in the morning he was face with a renewed anger from his Dad, and he’d gone downstairs to get a few more bruises. Mainly around the topic of re-sits. The idea scared Rob half to death, if he could do well enough on these exams, what would it be like when he had those ones again and a load more. 

He got to home room, and sat down. By now everyone had either cleared out to go to class, only a few people were milling about. Rob sat down in his usual place, in the far corner of the room where no one really disturbed him. He didn’t really know what to do with himself, he’d hope that he could have a rare morning off after some good results. But that obviously wasn’t going to happen. He opened his bag, and got out all his notes from before he took the exam. He realised he needed to pin point where he went wrong in the exam so as to do better the next time. He got out copies off all the exam papers and started to scour for the answers to his failure. After a while, and a few ‘Oh God you knew that Rob’ moments, he was interrupted. 

“Are theses all the exams that happened in January?” A voice asked him. He looked up and saw Maria, and was instantly paralysed in the way a boy of seventeen gets when he sees his crush. 

“Um yeah, I wasn’t really happy with my Bs, so I’m seeing where I went wrong.” She raised her eyebrows. She had curly fiery orange hair, and brown eyes. She had, in Rob opinion, the perfect body, and the perfect face. He watched her walk over to English, or sitting around reading a book. 

“You got Bs in science, that’s impressive to me.” Rob shrugged, he knew it was, but he could hardly tell her that his Dad… he stopped thinking. 

“I know, but I just thought I’d done well. And I made some stupid mistakes.” She say down next to him, and looked over some of the notes. 

“I don’t even understand any of this stuff. But then I’m just a humanities girl I guess.” She put the sheet down and got a book out. It was Pride and Prejudice. Rob was baffled by the fact that she was sitting next to him, there was no one else in the block. 

“That books good,” he said. “Austen’s use of aphorisms clearly shows her discontent with the society at the time.” She looked up, eyes wide. 

“I thought you were a science kid.” Rob shrugged, blushing a little.

“I can still read.” He thought about telling her that he wished he’d done English, but that would leave him open to the question of why. 

“I’ve read this a few times. But I finish the books we get given in English to quickly so I have to re-read or buy more, and I never have enough money for books.” He smiled, not really knowing what to say. 

“I prefer Sense and Sensibility.” He put in. She looked wide eyes. 

“How much of Austen have you read?” 

“Well everything I think. Northanger Abby is pretty good to, because it’s mock gothic rather than mock romantic.” She looked stunned again.        

“So are you some wannabe English student or summit?” 

“No. I just don’t sleep a lot.” He said, hoping she didn’t think he was to weird. 

“Oh, well sounds like you’d make an ace English student.” She looked back down to her book, and read for a bit, and Rob went through his exams for a while. But he couldn’t concentrate properly. All he could think off was the girl sitting next to him. The strangeness of what was happening. But she kept looking up to him, and he kept making eye contact with her without meaning to. The bell came signalling break and she got up to go sit with her friends, and he watched her walk away. She looked back over to him a few times, but Rob kept pretending he didn’t notice. When the room cleared again she didn’t come back over. But he wanted her to. He hoped he’d impressed her. But she obviously judged him for being a science kid, and he judged himself for that as much. He looked down at the paper. I hate science so much, he thought, and almost expected his Dad to hear him, and come bursting in ready to pin him against the wall again. “Rob?” She said. He was startled to find her hovering over him, he was just staring at the exams papers around him. It dawned on him that he’d never actually told her his name, but then he knew hers without having to ask. He was probably well know as ‘that kid who doesn’t talk to anyone.’ 

“Yeah?” He said, looking up to her. 

“Do you wanna, maybe go out, and see a movie with me on saturday.” He was taken aback. 

“Um yeah sure, what time?” 

“Oh say we meet at one at the odeon?” He knew his Dad was going out to a match on that day, and wouldn’t be back until the early hours of the next day. 

“Yeah sure that sounds great.” She smile. 

“Good, I’ll cya then.” She turned away, and Rob tried not to feel to excited. 

A bright light, bursts forth. 

It blinds you at first, you can’t see past it. 

You shield your eyes, brace for the impact. 

But the light runs up the wall, and chases away the shadows. 

Your eyes adjust, you lower you guard. 

The thousand dark birds start to turn white. 

Like pin pricks of light through a giant black canvas. 

Vivid - Part 1

A story is real. Consider the idea that in the universe, which is ever expanding, there is infinite potential. Therefore there is potential for there to be a world out there where the story your reading right now is real. And if the universe is infinite, and still expanding, then is must be real. So middle earth, disc world and Hogwarts are all out there somewhere. There is also a copy of earth where everything is exactly the same, in fact there should be infinite copies of earth.

Rob sat alone in his bedroom, looking out his window at the cloudy sky, only a few patches of blue shining through. Rob, sitting quietly, was scared. The fear of what he knew was to come was rushing through him, he shacked, paced and held his head in his hands, but he could not get rid of the fear. He knew that soon his Dad would come home, and he’d see the results sheet he’d left on the mantel, it would tell him he’d only got Bs in his first set of A-Level exams. Most people would be happy with that grade, but not Rob, or his Dad. That rage would pulse through him in almost an instant. He’d shout at Rob, and Rob would have to try and navigate the maze of his fathers rage. And try and avoid earning another bruise. But he knew today that it was inevitable. 

Rob is currently seventeen, and study the three sciences and math at six form, much to his displeasure. He hated science, but if he ever told his Dad that he’d probably end up with a broken arm. He longed to tell him that sometimes. He read a lot, when he could. But he knew now that he might have to go through another book burning. Last time he got a bad grade his Dad had burned all his books because they were, apparently, a distraction. Rob longed to study English, he watched the English students walk to there class, and had to fight the strongest urge to follow them. Rob stood again, he was around six foot, and skinny. He was taller than his Dad, and that had shocked him when he first realised because he didn’t feel like he was. 

He had chocolate brown hair, and dark green eyes. His face was round, but his eyes always had dark circles, he never stopped revising. But then it hadn’t been good enough this time. His chest was covered in bruises, his dad never hit his face, unless he was exceptionally made. After the time Rob was asked about a bruise once he’d flipped, and given him several new ones for letting people see them. His dad didn’t see anything wrong with hitting his son, he thought that’s how kids got disciplined. And Rob had quickly learn’t how to avoid it on the majority of days, but he knew this time it was beyond his control. Then he heard it, the sickening sound. It was the sound of the key in the latch. He knew he had a minuet, if that, until his Dad would burst through that door. He listened to his dad heavy breathing, the sound of his tossing his keys aside. 

And then a silence. It was like he could feel his Dad’s mood changing, building, as he looked at the grades, and grew angry. Rob thought about his Mum, she was dead, she’d died giving birth to him. But she’d loved his Dad, when he saw pictures of her and his Dad together it made him sad. He’d made his Dad like this, that’s what he told himself, that he killed the person that made his dad a decent, and happy person, and now he was paying the price for it. Then it came. 

“Bs!!” He shouted. “What a load of crap.” There was a pause. “Rob! Get down here.” His farther knew, he knew how much he feared him, but I think he liked it. When he was drunk he boasted about how much control over his son he had, and any achievement he made was his achievement as well. Rob made the solemn walk downstairs, it was never long enough. He knew the steps, the top one was his best friend, and the bottom one his worst enemy. And walked down, and into the from room. He felt the wind get knocked out of him as his fathers fist went into his stomach. “What the hell?!” He shouted, his fat unclean face just centimetres from him. “Are you brain dead of something? Ah?” 

“No.” Rob says quietly. 
“Well then what are these Bs?” 

“There not that bad grades Dad.” He pushed him against the wall, and grabbed a handful of his hair, and pulled. Rob didn’t yell. 

“Do you think that’s funny?” He said, menacingly. 

“No I just meant...” he pulled his hair a little tighter. 

“You won’t get these grades again, will you?” 

“Yes, I’ll do better.” 

“Good, you got go lightly.” he let go and took a step back. “If I had any sense I’d throw you out, your an embarrassment sometimes. No son of mine get Bs. Your mother would be disappointed if she saw you.” She’d be disappointed in you, Rob thought. He looked at his farther, and then to the floor. He had to wait before he could go, he had to be told whether he was done or not. He could hit him again. 

“Why do you look at me like that?!” His dad suddenly shouted. 

“Like what?” Rob asked quietly, the fear etched in his voice. 

“Just go,” his Dad said, his angry gone as quickly as it had come. “I can’t look at you, or this.” He thrust the paper into his chest, which hurt. Rob quietly walk away, and back upstairs. He skipped the creaky one, because sometimes when his Dad heard it he got angry again. Rob knew he’d got off lightly. But it never felt like he’d done bad, or good out of a situation like this. He went into his room, and sat on his bed again, looking out the window. It was dark, he hand’t realized it was going dark until now. After a while of sitting quietly, reliving the event over and over Rob got up, stripped off and got into bed. He curled up into a ball, hugging his legs to his chest, his head resting on his knees. Everything around him was black, he heard his house creak, and felt his body ache. But worst of all was the screaming in his head. Because he’d forgotten how to scream out loud.   

Darkness descends in the dead of night, 

Washing over your world, rippling to the sides. 

Red stained fists blot your white skin, smudging, 

Staining. A word, a number, a letter, a movement. 

They all trigger the landslide, the crushing. 

Thousands of tiny birds cross the sky around you, 

You spin your head as you watch them fly, silently.

Upload

It began with earpieces. We couldn’t live without them, on the way to work, on the drive home. That’s how it infected us, through the parts of out life that we didn’t  really care about. When your commute is just thirty minuets of dead space how easy is it for you to just slip on headphones and listen to music, or have a book read to you. But then it infected other parts of our lives, silently at first. We’d crave the headphones, the ability to plug in and listen to that song that was driving us mad all day, or find out what would happen next to in our story. Then it became more. Someone asked what if you could watch TV on the go, in the same way you could listen to books on the go. I remember the announcement, it was world breaking news, that we’d be able to watch TV on the go. In our eyes. They implanted them in us, tiny little devices, that projected an image onto the optical nerve of our eyes, and we’d be able to watch TV or a movie, in our head. Equipped with wireless power, so they’d never run out, and the ability to never be without entertainment. The world went crazy overnight. People like me did question whether this was going too far. But you don’t argue with the technology Gods. 

It took about a year before it was made consumable by the masses. The rich invested in the devices first and that allowed the companies to make the technology cheaper, and therefore more and more people got the implants. The age restrictions in countries got lowered, and lowered. About five years after the initial announcement came the next breakthrough. Social networks were brought into the mix. They’d already implanted microphones in our ears so we were never without music or sound. Now we had the ability of total submersion. Through another chip, somehow implanted deeper within us. We could enter a virtual reality space. So what you’d do is log in through, say, your phone, and then you’d be in a different reality. It was dubbed the first virtual reality. Initially it was a massive city, where you could walk around, and meet with other friends who were online. You could do this from anywhere. I’d walk through a carriage on a bus, and see people that looked passed out with glazed over looks in their eyes. But this was the new norm, no one but me looked at these people like they were weird. 

This new reality exploded. Online dating became something totally different, you’d actually meet in cyber space for your first date. You could change your appearance with just a few clicks, become thinner without dieting, and gaming became something extraordinary. Online worlds became actual worlds. But with these things came bad. When you met someone online, you’d have no idea what they were actually like, and it became a lot easier for people to convince you to meet in reality. You can only imagine what this did to the rape statistics. If you looked good in cyber space, then you became less bothered about your appearance in the real world. Obesity and diabetes sky rocketed. But gaming, I saw no drawback, it was brilliant, I imagined living my life in a fantasy world. They were building them all, Middle Earth, Disc World, Narnia. You could fall down a rabbit hole and go to wonderland if you wanted.

The world was going online, and less and less time was being spent offline. Everything became more real. Then one day, I read an article, from a shrinking group of people that didn’t go offline, saying that you could now go to a movie theatre in virtual reality. By now almost every major city had been rendered in this reality, but this kick was that people didn’t have to travel anymore, they could just decide they wanted to be somewhere, and then be there. So that dead space was gone. And now we were doing what we could have done anyway, but in another world. Because that’s what it had become by now. People had jobs online, I believe the first was a job as a journalist in cyber space. And then more and more people decided they’d rather never turn off. You can imagine that by now the companies were making humanity pay for their new addiction. But we needed money, and so we worked for it.

I could wander the streets of New York and meet no one. A massive class divide erupted. Those who could afford to stay online twenty-four seven, and those who had to work in the real world. Because the lower classes had to cater to the needs of those who wanted to stay online, they didn’t want to leave. But someone had to make sure our bodies, yeah remember them, stayed alive. But how were we still alive. It’s been fifty years now. Almost everyone is gone. I suppose people don’t remember that it’s the year 2092. I was born into an age obsessed by technology. I was born on the eve of the new millennia. And I have watched the world upload itself. Eventually we replaced what we didn’t like, we got rid of the lower class in favour of more technology. Robotics was a physical thing, so it took us a while to remember, but we did it. Now here I am. Probably one of only a handful of humans left with no metal in them. With humanity dying, and children being born out of bytes, what can I tell you. Anyone who is reading this. Life used to be different. Hardship makes us want to have better. But maybe we decided we already had better.

In a thousand years, I imagine that the system will still be going. That the cyber babies will have grown up to have cyber babies. And we will have reached the next stage of human evolution. Or we will have reached our extinction. 

I Have a Mind, Yet I Want to Think

Cold, the traveller stood, on the brow of the rise. He was looking out across a vast sea of green, which went on to the very extent of the horizon. He'd been travelling for several days across open country, never coming into contact with anything but animals. He had on him a large back pack; in which he carried a tent, five days (now two) worth of food, and spare clothes. And strapped to the outside was a sleeping bag. He was hoping to get to the ocean, which he should come to after another day or so's walk. This was the end of day three, so he choose a suitable spot, up against a stone wall, and set out his tent. In which he rolled out his sleeping bag, eat his specified amount of food, and lay back. From out of his bag he produced a journal, he looked at it, tried to think of something to write, and then put it back away. After darkness and want of sleep crept over him he let his consciousness slip.

He suddenly awoke in the dead of night to the sound of a howl. It came from the distance, but he was confused by what he heard. It did not sound like a dog, and there were no wolves in this part of the world. The sound unnerved him. He lay in the darkness, seeing his own breath mist in front of his eyes. He was clinging to himself, praying that he would soon slip back into sleep and that he would wake to a normal day tomorrow.

When he did final sleep in was short and felt like nothing at all. When he awoke he was immediately confronted with a new sound, it was the sound of waves. He quickly unzipped his tent to find he was next to the sea. On a beach in fact. The place where he had made camp gone from underneath him. The sea was around ten feet away from him. He re-zipped the tent, hoping that this was all in his head. But after a short while he realised it wasn't. He slowed his breathing and stopped panicking. He quickly dressed and left the tent. He walked a little way along the beach he was on. He looked away from the sea but saw no end to the sand. He walked and walked and walked but saw no end to the scene, it was just beach, and sand. He walked back the way he came, but when he reached the end of his foot prints he did not find his tent. Nor did he find tracks in the sand, other than his, leading away from the spot.

He sat down in the sand, pondering what he should do. All there was to the place was sea and sand. He looked down at his hands and noticed they were dirty, so he took of his clothes and dived into the water, swimming out to sea. The dirt washed of him in the waves, and he trended water out at sea for nearly an hour. The cold bite actually feeling good, as the temperature on the beach was sweltering. He swam back to shore, but found there were no clothes waiting for him. He ran to the left and then back to the right, but saw nothing of them.

And so away he sat on the beach, and pondered what he should do. He had noting left but his body and his mind. He began to see shapes in the sea, and statues in the sand. Out in the waves he saw horses and deer, cantering towards him then crashing down into oblivion. And to the sand he saw towers, and domes. So vast that when they became so fine they crashed in on themselves.

It was then that he decided to get back up and walk away from the sea. But when he tried to get back to his body, he realised it to was gone.

Up Down Right Left

Up, euphoria. Down, dismay.
A shadow behind a shadow,
twisting and turning everything.
Up euphoria. Dinners and movies
in your head. Cliché endings and
perfect pieces fitting together.
Down dismay. A shattering of
souls. A loss of hope, life, and
something you never really had.

Right, heart. Left, logic.
The scales tipping with weight,
violently swaying from side to side.
Right, heart. Pushed against a wall,
knife to the throat, are you serious?
What's the answer? The flip of a coin.
Left, logic. Rolling down an embankment
screaming the name, clawing back up,
falling again. Hitting the bottom.

A fragile rose wilting in the morning sun,
red faded, head drooping, dust gathering.

Fall

Sweet melancholy river, you cry for my woes, 

you'll twist for my whims, you'll surge for my wants. 

As great teeth entrap my means, my hands, my 

ideals. To watch me fall away, swerving to avoid rocks. 

Great peaks and valley's, who've seen me walk, and run, 

and be chased. But stare on with dispassionate eyes. 

Fearless cliffs meet me with calculating warmth, 

edging me closer to to the embracing seas. 

Winds whip at my face, rain pushes me forward. 

As the waiting floor meets me I see my faceless pursuer, 

The hollow man, with powerful hands… black, and cold

and tight and pressured and pain, pain, and a lack of light. 

Fragments

A tiny paper aeroplane, made of plastic. 

Confetti strewn across wine stained floors. 

A snakes tooth lodged in a family portrait.  

Laundry spread across a cold kitchen floor. 

A hunt across the bedroom for youth and 

skin. A knife through the beast set free.

Chocolate furiously thrown down a throat. 

Post stick notes left on a fridge door. 

Gone for dinner, sort yourself out tonight. 

Pillows dislodged, curtains thrust open, 

beds unmade, it's not gonna hurt. Honey. 

Paperwork and lanterns. Relatives and friends. 

Long holidays and weekend breaks. Yearning. 

Cold comfort on a warm February morning. 

Chris

A little bubble on the edge of a big one. 

"Weirdo" the hoards chant at you., "Freak, unnatural, not right." In your head.

Trudging through grey cities, blankly noticing the colour. 

"Where's the point?" you question yourself. "When you love what's meant to be unlovable." 

Betrayed and hot blooded. You were, are, like them, cut, buffed, blonde hair, blue eyes, 

a picture of perfection. You rebuffed enough in the name of knowledge. 

Lusted for protection, for the great black bird to stop hovering over you. 

Swooping down when it sees easy prey, casting them to the deserts, leaving them at sea.

Caged within a cage. Just longing, weeping, looking at freedom like the forbidden fruit. 

"I'm alone." You say to yourself, in the dead of the night. And you walk, just walk. 

Not turning up anymore, not really. You're there but not here.

Black and white in a coloured world. 

Until you walk away. You go to the allies, the backdoors, the abandoned. 

Sit, in a corner, next to rubbish and orange brick wall. Your legs drawn up to you, 

head leaned against your knees. Dyeing the floor blue. 

And then comes Peter. You look up swift, 

Seek his hair, slow your eyes to excite.

Knights, pawns and kings. He saunters in, smiling. Shift. 

Darkness rolls over your board, tinged white. 

You still look up for the dark bird. Is this right? 

Need the key to the cage. Want to be brave. 

Leaving sport. Taking poetry and flight. 

So you speak to him. It's a tidal wave.

Like Apollo's weight gone. Things get on track.  

Meetings in the mists and dates in the dim.  

The bird’s elsewhere, there's a door at the back. 

He sneaks in, through the dark, you smile with him.  
He takes off your clothes, you feel hands swim. 
Looks like Poseidon. It's summer with him.

On a friday night, you've been out, just about, nothing bad, you feel a little mad. 

You had strong stuff, he keeps calling your bluff, you say bye, he's a little shy. 

You kiss, don't want to miss. You're seen, by that girl, who everyone knows. 

There's a flood, the night turns from neon to black. He hugs you, you stay with him. 

Your calendar said no but it was going to happen. He tries to stem the flow from the wound. 

"It'll be alright, trust me, what's the worst that could happen?" 

"You could leave, I could be shunned, I don't wanna be hated." The black bird spotted you, 

round the back of the cage for a quick snog. You should have just shot it. It can't really 

hurt you, up there in the sky. Your legs are intwined, as you stay up all night. Thorns

on your mind. He strokes your arms, doesn’t hit the lights. A fire rages, a new bird is born. 

"Did you hear? Did you know?" A text here and there. "What'd you think? What a waste." 

You find an army waiting, spears are thrown, you take hit after hit. "Is it true?" 

You say… Yes. They're mad, don't turn bad. "Why didn't you say? I would have been happy."

And those who do what you thought... the black bird chases them, of into the fen. 

And you find that you're there, at that final destination, elation, you just had to be patient.

Summer has gone and you still look back. To when you were so secret, why were you that?

The bird was sent down, relinquished its crown, the new one rose, that's right you suppose.

You wander, but this time with friends, and you smile, at what you can add to your pile.

Realities Fantasy

Minus minuets, make me small.

Zero light and tiny sounds,

no smell and little taste. 

Nothing but a privation of feeling. 

Four thirty and still no buzz. 

Fabric and lipstick, you look good. 

The trees for the wood. 

The floor for the sky. 

Music with laughter. 

Tears with kisses and words, 

that stir. Water cascades and 

fireworks. Intoxication. 

Eyes across a dance floor. 

Drinks and taxies. 

Bedsheets and latex. 

Headaches and phone numbers. 

Talk of books and TV, 

who won that thing we both watch? 

Mutual friends and schools. 

Curtains and smashed dishes. 

Awakening, clouds and pillows. 

Dogs barking and people yelling. 

Regret fear envy lust longing sorrow. 

The trudge away, the reality. 

Monsters Under The Bed

Green eyed monsters seem to leap from your eyes every time you look at her. 
What do you want? Her sunset? Her miracle? Her song? 
No. You want what she's got. 
But the moment you board that ship you want to jump over board. 

Hands linger on flesh, caress, barley touch.
Twelve summers, to your thirty one. 
The kicks fly, they arc, but come down. 
Hands swoop, like birds spotting prey. 

Grey, white, a future flashes in front of her eyes. 
A rainbow flows from your very being. 

A lone fly dangles from a web, until the spider comes. 

Liquid Monsters

I watch as you shoot happiness into your arm, 

As you begin to drown in your own euphoria. 

I see it ebb into everything you do. Your life, 

Swallowed by liquid monsters, your undoing 

Is done in front of my eyes. 

Flesh seems to melt of your bones, 

Money becomes fluid and is sucked away, 

People, who used to swarm to you like bee to honey, 

Flee like your fire. Your skin tightens. Eyes darken. 

We don’t get you back, not the one we wanted. 

You die. Or you may as well have.

Dream Diary

So I've been having a lot of crazy dreams lately. And some of them are pretty whack, I don't know where my head comes up with all this stuff. So I thought because there more creative than I am being lately that I'll write my latest one down:

It's set in this massive perfectly round citadel. With a low wall going all the way round the edge, with the city inside being a kind of shanty town of houses. Out from the citadel is nothing but perfect green meadows and in the distance are snow capped mountains. Also running around the edge are train tracks. But they're suspended high above the ground, above the entire city, on high stilts. I'm now somehow on this train which just goes round and round in circles on this track and I report to a woman sitting at a desk behind a ton of boxes with vinyl records in them. I've reported to become a radio DJ and she begins to show me to where i'll be broadcasting from. We move a long the train. Some of the compartment are like normal trains. But others are like sleeper compartment. We get to a bathroom with a massive bathroom, the water tipping to one side all the time cause the train never stops moving. She then slides open a secret panel and we go through a secret passage. We step around a corner and then are in a more run down bathroom, with an old style empty bath. We both stand in the empty bath and hold onto the shower curtain rail. I ask her whats going on and she tell me we're about to travel in time. I look at her confused as the roof opens. The underneath us a giant spring releases and we're propelled into the air. This was where the dream ended.

Hope

A small light penetrates the dark. Lying in bed, trying to sleep, he sees the dim glow. Alcohol, sex, money, drugs, life... Infinity spiraling in front of him are his years. He see’s it for what it is in that moment. And he’s sees it is nothing. Curled up however he feels the force. The uncontrollable unexplainable force that tell us to go on, that there is some sort of purpose. He names in a survival instinct, but really we’re all just scared of the dark. Well no, we’re not scared of the dark, we’re scared of whats in it, or more importantly, whats not in it. 

Lying in bed he sees the small specs of a larger world. He says there’s nothing out there. Life is pointless and all he wants are simple pleasures. He kids himself into believing there is not greater purpose. 

In the darkness he feels the warm embrace of drink, standing idly back as it consumes his body and demons drag it away. In the breaks he feels the solid comfort of money, the small promise of safety and life in simple numbers. In the wilder, insane specs of his existence he feels his being get killed and turn to euphoria in one insane swipe. And then in his slow, monotones life he feels the sweat and pleasure of the human condition. 

But then, he doesn’t see the light, he notices it. He looks upon dawn and decides it’s for him. He kicks the floor and demands it’s his. But as he does it withdraws. He fails, he lives, he dies. 

Exit Wounds

I wander in and out of colours.  

A massive chess boards with red and blue pieces,

Tree’s made of lego and houses made of books. 

I swim in an ocean of oranges juice, 

Walk along talking to my shadow. 

I saunter into darkness. 

A black, knowing smirk looks down on me. 

Dark haunted eyes watch me turn in fear, 

But behind me no longer exists. 

I see flashing lights, red triangles and bright orange. 

Then darkness, then I fall, then reality restores. 

Black, White and Colour

The world in front of me is black and white.

While only I walk in colour, I see my family in colour. 

Cold comes and cold goes but that’s all that’s bright. 

Until one day you seem to fill in, you’re fuller. 

The blonde of your hair, the blue of your eyes. 

A second, the smouldering brown the jewel green. 

I look up and see the clouds, see the colourless skies. 

You don’t shock me, though it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. 

In front of me lie two colours, blue and red. 

Red burns bright, I almost feel it on my skin. 

Blue beckons me, it takes over my head. 

I want to choose one so my life can begin. 


*Poem taken from one of my narrative's 

By The Sun, By The Edge

Heaven would be a hell of a place. 

Watching eyes in the walls wait for me to slip up. 

I rock the corner, the tiny part of my world lights up with blue, 

Snow covers the ground of my existence, I shovel it away, 

But it just tumbles back on top of me. 

I make snow angels. I look at the never comig sun. 

I watch as I go over horizon and horizon, the sun sets 

Somewhere in the distance, behind the edge of the universe. 

But then it comes up to me, and I look and realize I’ve lost everything 

In a sea of sorrow, my wants drowned. Now I fling myself of the edge 

But then you grab me by the collar, turn me round and say. 

“Go to the edge on the other side” And I smile. As me and her go 

To save my wants. 

Inverted Worlds

Swimming in a sea of bed sheets

We drive a drown and drive again. 

Running on a road of feathers 

Passing nowhere and heading to nowhere. 

Climbing a mountain of stairs

Reaching the summit we pulsate. 

Light streaks through the rafters, 

Columns of dust sway in a non existent breeze. 

Ribbons flare over the purple sky. 

They duck and dive, tensing the orange water

Next to the blood red grass. Alone a single doves wanders. 

Inverted is the world alone, half of it missing. 

In bed sheets she wakes, colors in the right place. 

Flesh still next to hers, life still in her veins. 

Empty Battlefield

I think I know every detail of the floor.
My eye's refuse to give into my desire to look,
My breath doesn't want to be steady.
I feel my arms shake, my fingers grasp at empty air.
The life around me is being sucked away,
I would give it to you if I could.

The results say I'm wrong. But I know I'm right.
Heaven and hell are going to war but I don't know which is which.
Fire laps the skin of my existence, threatening to destroy my world.
Yet excitement rises in my heart.
Clouds drift by, a long summer day, friends away, emptiness in the world.
Yet, this is simple, this is right.

At the centre of the battlefield I wait, ready to be consumed.
I will it to happen but it never does, nobody ever charges for me.

You and I, Love and Hate.

I live in a circle full of warmth. 

You live with the doors closed, but the ice still gets in. 

I live under sunlight, I see clearly. 

You live under darkness, your blind. 

You throw the dart but miss the target.

I sit and watch it fly by without flinching.

You pull strings and move puppets into place at will. 

I take hands, smile for a smile in return. 

I don’t love what I hate.

You hate what you love. 

They say we’re both stupid.  

We both know it’s true.  

Inferno

Ember floats from atlantis to land on the hay at my feet, 

it sits suspended for a moment the catches as if late for the bus. 

Fire slowly builds until it engulfs me. 

You look at me and wonder why I'm on fire, why would i do that?

But only you can put me out, you life is my water. 

But i’d rather blaze forever than feel your cold embrace. 

Then when you touch you catch fire to. 

Smoke signals everyone of our flames, they cheer us on 

We burn together, two fire become one. 

I fall of a cliff but you tug me back before i hit water

Our Inferno builds brighter and hotter

And even as we leave this earth are fire still ranges. 

We set fire to the world. 

We let it know what fire feels like. 

We burn forever. 

For As Long As We Both Shall Live

Smoke rises, beams of light are caught in it’s grip. 

The sun isn’t what it used to be, it’s changed the the world which it used to give life. 

Forever dusk, ash never settles. 

Crack appear, small at first but then they span out and consume. 

Things shift, once sturdy positions are now uncomfortable. 

The dust resettle after things find a new resting place. 

She smiled, it was like the sun had found a new vent. 

Connected, their eyes are glued, but by will.

They circle, towards there own destruction. 

The Zombie Diaries - Part 5 - The Thin Line

*All speech has been translated from Russian 

The first item is a order sent to army basses all over Russia. 

Because of the recent epidemic of the unknown virus the government has ordered the set up a line of defence against the infected heading towards russia through Europe. So the military will dispatch you to our border and you will form a line across the continent and hold it till a cure is found. See included information for where you will be dispatched. 

*An Interview conducted with the only known veteran of the russian dead defence. Currently living in a psychiatric ward in the only know siberian settlement.  

The dead defence followed the old russian border almost perfectly starting in the most Northern part that bordered estonia then going south going through other countries to maintain the straight line and also cutting out part of our own. Then it came to the north east tip of the black sea. The line went directly east from there until it met the Caspian sea and thats was it. We only protected ourselves for Europe and even that didn't work out, we never thought it would spread in asia so quickly, or that there would be infected coming from Alaska or Canada. Pretty soon after the army moved into place along the line it was seen how they were spread to thin, conscription was brought in, only in Moscow at first but after the promise the army would be the first to get the cure when it was ready many sighed up without hesitation. 

But the whole thing was ridicules I remember the darkness pressed against my eyes, the rain and the mud was all I could see. I don't know how I was suppose to protect my country like that, they’d promise big flood light but they were always late on. If a hoard of dead came at us we would be finished, it’s not like they hate the rain, or water, those stories about infected rising from the black sea might not be true but I'm damn glad I wasn’t on that front. I paced my section of the trench for about half an hour, it was up to who ever was in  charge of there section of line on how to guard it, we decided to build bunkers but it was slow going, supplies were thin and we have only just enough men to guard and build at the same time. Some parts of the line had simple chain link fences while others have barricades made from anything imaginable, cars, houses, whole towns converted into a long stretch of wall that went on for ever, I saw the picture on the news when I got of duty sometimes. 

All we had was a trench for the foundations of what should be a concrete house, it seems a little permanent to me, this amazing multipurpose building that will make are line impassable by anything. When Europe got quiet, in those days when it stayed there and we thought it had stopped, all of russia got tense, we knew there were millions of dead in there, helicopters and planes have flown over places like Berlin and Paris, they say that they wander aimlessly around the streets. I remember them talking about the groups that survived in there though, the refugee thats made it out and the bunker in london that was trying to make a cure.

I remember it all kicker of just as the lights switched, they illuminated the entire field on front of us and it was just in time cause a torso was crawling towards me. When it saw the lights it began to crawl frantically, I still wonder how it lost it’s legs, someone probably should have done a better job of finishing it of. To my left someone impatient finished it off. It slumped down not far from the line, I may have been examining it a bit to long cause it had gotten pretty close. The rest of that night was pretty quiet until it got to dawn. Just as I was beginning to get light I remember I saw it, in the distance was a hill and just on the crest was a swarm of undead. Im not talking about a few dozen there were fucking hundreds of thousands of the bastards. 

For the first time I understood why people called it the walking storm. You see it in the distance at first, it was like the earth was moving, like a land slide. They were running, stampeding, towards the line, there was no way we were ever going to stand up to them, and then the storm hits you, but I wish it was a storm. Several people started firing into the horde, only a few fell, the trained soldiers, were managing head shots whereas the civilian  army just fired blindly into the mass and most managed to hit but no where lethal, they only hit due to the sheer mass of bodies of course. 

*He looks of into the distance for a moment wide eyes like being back there. 

My commanding officer, was grabbed by one of them and then they all piled on, I remember the look of cheer terror in his eyes as they ripped each limb of his body and starting chewing on them, I managed to get him in the head, I'm sure he appreciated it but I still wake up at night thinking… what if that was me. 

*He shudders at the thought of the pain. 

I remember that I didn't shoot one bullet into those thing that night, I only killed him.  As soon as they were upon as simply ran, I’m not sure whether I did the right thing but I know I wouldn’t have made a difference. About two minuets after jets flew over head, they fired into the hoard, I’m sure it helped but it’s not like there human, the ones that get totally vaporised would be gone for sure but they ones who got just burt or an arm blown of, there still walking now. 

*He looks out the window as if to see them approaching now. 

I ran and ran and ran. Got on the evacuation trail into siberia. Lucky I guess, damn lucky. 

*He looks at the scars on his arms, with a look of curiosity, almost wondering how he got them. He asks who I am and what I'm doing here. 

Buying Time

So people say that you can’t make time, or theres not enough time in the world. Well I have to strongly disagree cause there are so many things in the world that give you more  time: 

You can wake up quicker in the morning with coffee, by a faster car to get you places quicker, or get a faster train in the morning, the trains in Japan run by the second, work on the journey there and back to save yourself time. Downloads are the biggest example I see all around me nowadays, constantly advertisers are going on about faster speeds and the whole notion is amazing to me, back in yesteryear you would have to go out and buy music, take the bus into town and get a CD from a store, now all you have to do is press a button on iTunes and music is within your reach almost instantly. The same goes for DVDs, Games, Movies, Apps that are now all online. And who needs to go out shopping when you can get almost anything on Amazon and have it delivered. 

You don’t even have to go out and do the weekly shop anymore, stores deliver for you and all you had to was click what you want on some website. Instant messaging, movies on demand, catch up services, all of these things scream about how much time is saved if you think about it, you don't have to go out of your way to watch something on Tv when it’s on cause it’s online straight away. Fast food, instant meals, ready made, way back when you’d have to actually put thought into making food, make it from scratch, but nowadays it comes to you packaged and ready for consumption after fifteen minuets in a microwave. Just think about what machines do to things like factories and farms. They save time and money by making products and growing food quicker but they cut jobs in the process. 

Now i’m not against most of this stuff, well not really, but what I am against is the people who say they don't have time for the important things or say they need more time cause society today  is always creating time, for it to be only filled with something else, however society makes you pay for all those extra hours you’ve acquired through whatever means. Like sure you can get food shopping delivered to your house, but at a cost, those quicker internet speeds come with a price tag on them. But things like ready made meals may be cheaper but you can bet home made stuff would be better for you. 

So this is to all those people that say you can’t buy time, because I think it’s pretty clear that you can.  

A Little Something

Perfection is in your face, and when I first saw it my eyes didn’t know how to pull themselves away from it, but my brain had more sense and I kept on going just kept on walking. But then time went by and I saw more and more of you, just glimpses of your life is all, the laughter I heard when I walked past you, or the places I see you most. I counted the times I saw you in a week and waited to see you in the same place I’d saw you one week ago. But now I know your leaving my life, and I know I could never look upon perfection again, but I just keep on walking, tears internally soaking my heart, afraid to forget not afraid to lose.

Just a small extract from one of my story's, thought I'd share it but not sure how good it is.

The Zombie Diaries - Part 4 - When Hell Meets Heaven

I stare at the bite mark. But Curtis just starts walking him towards the bungalow. 

“How did you get that” I ask and point at the mark. 

“Oh strange story” He has an unexpected american accent “When I was on my way here and about to set of this crazy women ran up and jumped in the boat, she bite me, hurts like Hell, but I pushed her into the water and high tailed it out of there” I raise my eyebrows. 

“Were you ill before then?” I ask. And he looks at me quizzically, the shakes his head. I leave at that and join the others. The day goes by as normal, we swim and the girls soak up the sun. When me Hayley and Tash are in the water at about five in the afternoon, curtis runs out to us, he looks panicked. I see him talk with Sayed and Michelle, they beckon is in. 

“Whats wrong?” Tash asked with a laugh, as if this is typical of him. 

“Curtis says he died” Sayed Michelle. I recoil and the girls stop drying themselves and look at him. 

“But how” I ask. He shakes his head. Hayley puts her hand on his shoulder, and he looks up at her. Michelle's eyes flare for a second. 

“It’s ok, maybe he’s out cold or summit, the heat could of made him faint” He shakes his head again. At that we quickly dress and get back there. As we walk in we see him standing, he looks at us with a sort of animal like interest. Sayed and Tash are at the front of the group and they both laugh. 

“See he’s fine, melodramatic much” Sayed says. Just then he launches for us, at Tash, but as if it were a knee jerk reaction Sayed steps in front of her and pushes her back, Michelle catches her easily. Sayed and, well whatever his name is, end up on the floor, theres a grunting sounds coming from the handyman. And it looked like he bites Sayed chest. We all react in different ways, Hayley kicks the man, with a considerable amount of force, and he rolls of Sayed. Michelle runs inside and grabs and hammer out of his tool box, curtis grabs Tash and pulls her back as well as grabbing my T-shirt so I stumble back a little. Michelle, runs up and smashes him on the head as he tries for Sayed again, she hits again and again until he’s still. We all stand still for a moment then Tash runs to Sayed. He panting and convulsing, his body jerks and weird ways. 

“Thats what he did” curtis says “Before he died” Michelle, not affected at all, pulls the body to the side a little to give more room to bring everyone into the centre of the room. Then suddenly Sayed stops, and looks at Tash. 

“I can’t feel a pulse” She says suddenly. She clings to his body as his eyes go out, instinctively I find Hayley’s hand and like a bear trap she clung to mine. Tash sobbed and the noises of her pain, her grief, shook through me, they were long high wails, screams begging for him to come back. I looked over and saw, the dead handyman next to a silent TV, the picture was on but in the corner I could see the mute symbol. On it was a channel from somewhere in america, a  big city but I couldn't tell which one. The feed said live and there was a camera looking down at a street that’s in utter chaos. At one end was a police blockade, well a firing squad more like, they were firing into a crowd that was coming towards them, every now and then someone in the crowd went down but not as often as you’d have thought. 

“Is that a movie of summit?” Hayley asks quietly, Tash is sobbing slowly besides the body. I quickly go and change the channel, it has a similar scene, only in a big square with religious looking statues. And on the next channel and the next. After about ten I come to a channel where there are people sitting around and talking but the chaotic scene’s are on a screen in the background. I un-mute it, there a women speaking with a fast and urgent voice, like there being timed. 

“…So far it seems russia appears uninfected due to it’s line of defence but with chases being reported in china it seems that just protecting themselves from Europe isn’t enough”  I don't understand what’s going on, what she’s on about sounds like a virus but the scenes look like war. Another man picks up, he is more reserved, and calm.  

“What not many people are thinking about is the fact that there could still be people in there, we think that we’re saving ourselves but at what cost, the change might be reversible” The third and final man interrupts him. 

“Theses people have died, do you know a way to reverse death?” Theres a silence in the room. And then it all snaps into place in my head, the infected, the dead, the handyman, the bite mark. I look at Hayley and I can see she’s come to the same conclusion I have. 

“Tash get away from him” She shouts quickly. But it to late, I dash round the sofa to see the scene unfold. Both Tash and Michelle are leading over him, his eyes staring back into there’s. Then he lurches for them quickly taking a chunk out of Michelle’s neck, and then bites Tash’s hand thats on his side. The look in his eyes is the same as the handyman’s. Curtis runs quickly stomps on Sayed head, bashing in his skull and then his brain, he stomps again and again. Hayley skirts round the room towards where Michelle has keeled over. 

“NO!!” I shout at her. “DONT GO NEAR HER” she stops as so does everything. Sayed lays still again on the floor, a small pool of blood now surrounding him. Curtis ignores me and clutches his Girlfriend’s neck, she can’t even scream, or yell in pain. Tash has somehow got to the other side of the room, she’s looking at her bite mark in fear. 

“Do you understand” Hayley asks her, and she nods. 

“Im so sorry, so so sorry” I tell her. She smiles. 

“It’s OK, we’ll be together again” She says, almost with euphoria, like she’s won this. She’s look at Sayed body, or what she can see of it where she’s standing. I nod and look to Curtis, he’s holding Michelle close to his chest and I can see he hasn’t been paying attention to a word we’ve said. How long does it take for them to come back, only a few minuets at most. 

“Curtis get away from…” Hayley’s cut of by the yell that comes from him. She’s gone straight for the neck like before, it was so swift so fast. She looked at him for just a spilt second, with hunger and longing but then she lurched for him. But unlike before she doesn’t let up, we don't have to run although Hayley dashes for me and stops me going over to him. She rips parts of his neck out and he tries to fight her of trying crawling along the floor to get away from her, but she rip's into other parts of his body, his chest his legs his back. Tash suddenly runs for the door, she looks like she’s going to be sick. But she turns and yells at us. 

“Im going to get as far away as possible to I'm not near you when I…” She looks at Michelle, who’s now looking up at us, curtis is scratching at the floor with his free hand. Me and Hayley slowly back away, but she doesn't take this caution into consideration. Michelle stands blood dripping from her mouth and neck and frantically she runs at us. Hayley pulls me through the door we’ve back out way to. And quickly shuts and locks it, I pull the desk over which still has Tash’s work on, I ram it against the door and then sit under it to put more weight on, Hayley joins me, and we breath. 

Hours later, when there are two more out there, when Tash died and came back and Curtis gave up and came back we’re still here. Sitting under the desk, the adrenaline and rush has worn of and everything, the sea water, the horrors, the dead. It’s all taken it’s toll. Dawn’s breaking when I finally come to my sense and decide there’s a way out, an obvious one, it’ll save her, me however, that might go either way. 

“Get up” I say softly to Hayley. She does, and we stand, the doors gonna hold for a while, by the looks of it so I don't think we have to worry about it. “Right Im going out the window” she nods “What I want you to do is stay her and keep tapping the door, it’ll keep them here. If you think it’s gonna go just climb out to, thank god we didn't decide to take the two story place on that other island” I say as an after thought “Im going to go round and shut the door, they’ll be locked in then and there’s no other way out for them and I don't think there clever enough to open doors of windows but I’ll lock them to be sure. When I come back we can take the boat and get off this island” she looks at me with a face I can’t describe. 

“I don't like this Tom” she finally says, but she knows it’s the only way. “Can’t we both just run for the boat?” I shake my head. 

“If they see us and we can’t start the boat or get away fast enough…” She reaches out for me, put her hand on my necks and presses her lips against mine, she lingers for just a moment then, pulls down and presses her forehead against mine. “I promise I’ll try not to die” I say with a hint of a smile. This reassures her, and as I open the window she starts tapping the door, they go into a spiral of rage. 

“If they break through go straight for the boat, I’ll try and get to you, but if not…” There’s a strength in her now, like when she stopped me helping curtis. I smile at her, well force a smile, and I'm out the window. Dawn is just breaking, and I go around the building. I close all the windows first, quietly locking them from the outside. Then I make my way round the the front, I snap a branch from one of the trees and freeze, bloods pounding in my ears and I hope to god it was quieter than it sounded. After a very long minuet I decide it’s fine and I make my way onto the sand. I edge along the side, and then I come to the doors. There are two sets, for one frame, a glass pair that hangs outwards and a wood one that looks strong but hangs inwards. I nudge my head round a tiny bit and see them. The three undead banging on the door and wall next to it, I can just here Hayley attracting there attention. I see the key in the wooden door, it’s on the outside so there is no need for me to have to go to far in. A stroke of luck. I phyc myself up, but then think the door could give and Hayley could die, so without thinking, in one swift movement I shut the first door, the banging stops they turn, I shut the other, they run, I fumble the key, they hit just as the looks clicks to tell me it’s shut. 

I Breath and then lock the glass doors for good measure. Something taps me on the shoulder and I turn and trip over, it’s Hayley. 

“Sorry I new you were done when they stopped so I” She help at a hand and I got up and embrace her. “Just the rest of the world now eh” I laugh. 

“Just the rest of the world” We grab each others hands and walk now towards the boat. Who would ever have thought we would be so happy to escape paradise.