writer's den week 3

Prompt: write about the person you just met

Zhili is an electrical engineer. He wears all black because his eyes don’t see color, they see the mini resistors that are in your neurons, and the capacitor in your iPhone camera flash. He wants to engineer the next Tesla coil. To make something out of nothing; power out of air, out of the charged particles in the human skin, in the fall leaves, in the blue sky. Zhili’s name means knowledge and power. That’s what electricity is to him—the most melodious intersection of knowledge and power. He chases down the electric as much as he can. Skydiving, making love, cocaine highs. Zhili looks unassuming at best, and fobby at worst. But his blood pulsates with the synchrony of electrons and protons and an abosofuckinglutely thirst for that intersection. One day, Zhili will be a household name. Actually Zhili happens to the name of the street intersection that housed the hospital he was born in. His mother was sadly uncreative, unlike her highly functioning son. Anyways back to the love-making and cocaine.

Zhili is a prolific yet jaded lover. After all, the first lesson in electrical engineering is opposites attract. It seems like Zhili just can’t find the right broad. Or maybe its because he thinks of them as broads. What kind of lover is Zhili anyways? Who even calls women “broads” anymore? Shame on you, Zhili. He has to date, wined and dined 47 different individuals, of 22 different nationalities, 15 different languages (4 of them ethnic dialects of the New Zealand coast), and 2 of the …male persuasion? 

writer's den week 2

Prompt: write a short story using monosyllabic words only

Jim is a nice guy. Jim is a great guy, in fact. Jim loves the gym, his wife, his kids, and his blonde wig. Jim wears the wig once a week. At 11 pm at night once a week, Jim goes to the Y and plays ball with his pal, Don. Or so he says. In fact, Jim is in the john at Taco Bell. He goes to the back and hides in the john and looks at his face in the screen. He loves his blonde wig just like he loves his wife. He loves his blonde wig more than he loves his wife. Jim wants to be Jane. Jane would be blonde. Jane would be hot. Jane would be what Jim is not. 

Jim saves a small piece of his check each month. It is the Jane fund. Jane was the name of his first girl. Jane was a nice girl just like Jim is a nice guy. Jim met Jane at school, in math class. Jim was just a young lad. Jim thought Jane would be his girl. Jane was his first girl. He sent her sweet treats and made love to her. He poured bleach on her plump, round breasts. He rammed a drill up her pale pink cheeks. Jane was gone and all that was left was her blonde hair. Which now hangs in the back of Jim’s shoe rack. Gone from the sight of his wife and kids, just like Jane is gone from the sight of all on Earth. And by the way, Jim just won Dad of the year at his son’s school.

Claws (an exercise)

Clickity clacketing. Raised like braille. Blind, too.
Meandering whirlpooling chug chug to a halt.
Shift shift control alt delete: end task.
Hovering flashing...poised. On pointe
Ankles straining choleric waves want to choke to kill.
Onomatopoeia and fin,
Sore throbbing but running over the hedge
running running a hero's welcome,
back in the day.
nervous system is a slanted oxymoron,
wouldn't you say so?

Call me J.

Just like that my name is now J. Surname P.

I haven't written in so long. Forever it seems like. I'm rusty. Excuse me. I haven't read for even longer. Yes, I've read. But only against the blue-white glare of my iPhone, the computer, the iPad.

Seems like the past year has been personally stagnant for me. Enter the void of i-mpersonality. Of i-nanity. I've done much for another but not much for myself. I want to embark on the quest again. A year is too long to be static radio silence.

I'm excited for this year. Nervous, excited, scared. But no matter what, still happy. Happy because I have a journey again instead of being forever stationed at the rest-stop along the way. It was a nice rest stop. There were even seat covers for the toilet! But the road beckons (see how rusty I am, resorting to sigh-inducing platitudes...). In any case, the best thing to do is do. So here's a subpar post but a post nonetheless!

Hello, you.