En paradiso, solomente recuerdo mi vida.

Here's a free write to satisfy all your fiction needs for the day.

Enjoy!

Photo by Kristen

"Paradiso"

Upon waking, I came across a brand new world. I found myself but lost the urge to become anything more than I was while lying there.

Several hours passed and my bed had started to grumble beneath me. “Don’t be an idiot,” it grumbled. I tried not listen. Truths are for those with hope. Last time I’d checked, I only had what was before me.

A day passed and my stomach screamed for me to “stop playing”. Not even my body understood me. How could it? After all, I’m just like everyone else...miserable like everyone else…

A week flew by and my lips cracked in protest. My stomach had died and my bed’d grown cross. In my mind, there’d been no loss. I only needed what was before me. Everything else didn’t matter.

Now a year has passed and I awake each day to the light shining through the clouds. My bed’s gotten it’s peace and the world no longer has to deal with me. Everyone should be happy…They’re all so lucky…

Upon waking, I come across a horrid world. It’s called “paradiso,” but I find only hell in the memories I’ve thrown away to arrive here.

Fate slays me.

~Chris

The Hanged Man

For all of you without knowledge of what "The Hanged Man" signifies, it is the twelfth of in the numerical series of Major Arcana. In general, The Hanged Man stands as a martyr before the world which is more than willing to crucify him for what he has done wrong (in their eyes). Nonetheless, he finds acceptance in his fate because everything he once knew and loved has been destroyed just as he is about to be. Still, he doesn't worry because Death is soon to follow. 

Keep this in mind as you read through this poem. 

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"Sanctuary Before the Damned"

Standing still atop the world,
I prepare myself to fall.
Once more, the knife slips
and refuses to spill it all.

Yet, happiness, in my heart,
grows stronger with life.
Darkness recoils quickly,
as it has misjudged my strife.

Instead, before you all,
I gaze out upon the crowd.
Light's in these happy thoughts.
Depression is its shroud.

Wondering now what to do
the darkness screams defeat.
Gravity makes my wings,
lighted grounds will be my treat.

"To heaven!" I scream aloud.
"To hell!" you all scream back.
Terror never shook my brain;
For fear is what I lack.

Assure yourself that I lived
for solely freedom's sake.
Now make me your martyr;
Burn me first at the stake.

Your sins will one day
put you in your place.
Yet, only absolution exists
in the smile on my face.

Sir Conan Doyle, be my inspiration. Fate, let me solve this mystery.
~Alex
~Edited by Sharon~

My id won't let it go.

According to Sigmund Freud, the human mind has two natural instincts: Eros, linked to sexual impulse and the desire for life; and Sadism, the impulse to destroy and seek death. Part of his research went into describing how these two instincts feed and react with each other. Ultimately, it seems as though Eros leads to Sadism in the sense that once the former is satisfied the latter has the ability to step forward. Honestly, I couldn't agree more.

The following piece is an amalgamation of my experiences with such an instance.

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"Fate Ideal"


I.


Across the street
She cries harshly.
She can't retreat;
Her heart agrees.


I'm on the other side,
My hands reach to her.
Her knife wants suicide,
But I'm helpless now.


Cars pass between,
Ignorant to our struggle.
Only nineteen,
Yet the world'll kill her soon.


Screams pierce time;
The knife carves her flesh.
Car sounds climb
To silence her pain.


"Don't do it!"
I yell to her.
Cars don't quit;
They block all sound.


"I love you so much Chris!"
She screams to my ears only.
"But I'd killed it with a kiss...
I can't stand who I am!


"I can't handle who you are!
I'm so sorry..."
Alex had taken her love far...
I'd taken her...


How could Chris compare?
"It doesn't matter!"
My sound seems rare;
The knife dug deeper.


Cars sped between us,
Content with silent ignorance.
He came between us;
Still, I forgave her ignorance.


II.


Fiction fades out;
The scene screams red.
Walls contain doubt;
Doors separate.


Strength fills my entirety
As I break through the door.
Shock stains my sad body
As the water rises more.


Scarlet, from her final exit,
Stained tub and floor alike.
I guess my love wouldn't've fit,
But my heart leaps away.


So pale, too pure,
To leave me like this.
Yet, I'm still here
Viewing death's beauty.


"Why not me?!"
I suddenly upstart.
"Such cruelty..."
How rapidly the tears come...


I couldn't save her;
Love forced her hand.
I only torture;
I loved her dead.


Down on my knee,
I begin to pray.
"God! What's the fee?!
I'll do anything!"


No deity appears;
No spirit consoles.
Nothing saves my hated tears;
No one can help this.


Loneliness can't be saved,
Even as I hold her in my arms.
This feeling isn't tamed;
Knives hold the only absolution.


III.


Cars begin to rush by,
But no one calls to me.
How hard I always try,
But only death comforts.

I'll be your Freudian slip, if you'll be my schizophrenic delusion.

~Alex



~Edited by Sharon, Elizabeth

An Awkward Sight

These past few nights I've dreamt, slept, and taken in all the insanity rising in my mind. A young girl, short and feisty, who once held my heart--before she tore it apart--keeps my mind at unrest. She cares no longer for these brown eyes that still hold her in deep consideration, yet my heart sinks to impale itself upon the rocky shores below that stand to shield my ocean of torment. Yes, I died with suicidal precision at the unwelcomed vision of her face. Her face, a serene scowl to hold back lies, as her small, white hand draws a frightful card numbered XIII.

My head hits the pillow and thoughts of her death pound against my frontal lobe. So, my feet hit the cement in an attempt to allow darkness to wash away my pitch thoughts. Love, hate, something deeper than I've ever looked to imitate; it all pounds against my psyche against my will. When will it come? Where will she be if I'm true? I'd rather die myself than learn that her fate has met the big number XIII.


Carpe diem.
~Alex