Speculation.

I'm sitting in a chair that is too big for me. Its blood red, vinyl skin feels cold against my exposed legs. I throw my arms onto the table as my fingers search the surface for something to play with. This is weird. This situation that I'm in. I don't know if I want to explain, but considering why I'm here, I feel that an explanation is needed. Things like this should not happen, I think to myself as he walks through the front door, slinking into the bar and making his way to my table. I'm not happy to see him so my face produces a half-ass smile. Good evening, he says with a smirk, tilting his head slightly. Good evening. Yeah, this place is hip.. If you're forty-five, which he is and that's when I feel the wave of nausea bubbling through my veins. He sits in my booth taking the chair across from me. He seems to fit the chair. Damn. At this, I seem to slouch, sinking further into my chair, looking like a frail little girl. Well, it's good to see you, did you find the place alright? He chirps in a soothing way, his tone wavering slightly as if he can't tell which mood to convey. I found it alright. I say, peeking above a menu at him, trying to distract myself from looking his way. But I can't look at this menu forever and I already know what I want. So, I suck up my nausea and unease and release the curiosity within me. With narrowed, cautious eyes I lower the menu and confront him with my full attention. He's resting his chin in his hand, pushing up his cheek in an unattractive way. His hand is littered with freckles as they spill down his wrist and onto his forearm. Holy shit, he has a lot of freckles, they keep going and going up his arm and to his -okay, I really don't want to continue this so I throw my gaze around the room. My mouth mumbles something that fills the silence between us, but you know, means absolutely nothing and I couldn't give less of a shit about. Yeah, so what do you like to do when you're not working? He mumbles through his hand awkwardly. I have to think for a moment, because I don't know what I like to do. I just do whatever pleases me at the time. I could enjoy something one day, in one type of mood and hate it the next. So I ponder while I click my tongue on the roof of my mouth. click, click, click. I notice his eyes as they read hunger. All my friends were right about his intentions. I know this. Don't think I don't fucking know this. I roll my eyes as I shake off an unwanted thought. I like to write, I say in a voice that's much too low to be my normal voice. Ahem. I swallow and clear my throat. Oh, cool. What kind of writing? He throws back instantly, trying to sound very interested. I don't know. I say as I shrug. It always changes nor have I given it too much thought. I write what I feel and I write what I see. -How are you two doing today? The waitress butts in with a bubbly demeanor. Hello. I sink lower in my chair. Doing well, doing well, you? He says lifting his face from his hand to give the bubblegum drop, lemon head waitress a warming welcome. Doing well thank you, now what will you two be drinking tonight? Her shadowed eyes pierce mine searching for a friendly fire. I sit up, slightly warmed by her presence, hoping she won't go away. I'll have a Coke, please. I lace my fingers together and look up into his eyes. For a second they look confused. The waitress turns her head. And you? I'll have a rusty nail, please and thank you. She smiles and hops off to fulfill my wishes and desires, hopefully not his. So, that sounds interesting. Are you any good? He asks, making me aware that he's not an artist and most likely not someone I'd get along with. I'm awful. I say with a smirk, laughing at everything for a second. A Coke is placed in front of me. My hands hastily pull it closer, straw in mouth, sucking down carbonated corn syrup and artificial coloring. I look up as he chuckles at my answer, clearly amused. Sure you are. He continues with his awkward chuckling.

Mt. Shasta Summit!

A 360 view of Mt. Shasta's summit, 14,162 feet.



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Summer Project:

The Human Story Project: A collective of short, detailed biographical information on various strangers, friends, and family.
Questions to be answered: from basic, creative, historical, character analysis, philosophical.

I've realized that I want to get to know the world; I want to see what people live for..
My goal is one story a week.

:) Stay tuned..

Another Daydream.

A windowless room is where I have found myself. A gentle sound wallows through the walls. I press my brain against the confines of my skull and listen with a curious ear. It's telling me to forget everything I know.. I am but a little girl with so much to learn. My body keeps me from becoming all that I can be. I stagger away from the wall with dizziness dripping from my pores. Staggering and slipping on multicolored beads of sweat pooling on the ground. A plain, brown bird darts at my face, knocking me down as I become parallel with the ground, a wave of panic swimming through me as my heart pounds violently inside of my chest. The bird flies clumsily into corners, spilling feathers as it tries to escape. Thwap, tweet, clunk, tweet. I cover my ears. The despair I feel is immense, knotting inside of my stomach and sliding up my throat. With a final collision with the wall, the bird drops to the ground, still, dead, free. The pressure of the room lightens as if someone has opened a window. I force a deep swallow and climb to my feet, hands still connected for balance, I slide around in a crawl searching for this window. Searching for a way out. "Forget everything you know" bounces from ear to ear as I try to make sense of everything. I come face to face with a wall. My body stiffens, my reflection stares back at me, young, scared, pitiful little girl, "you can never leave." I feel my body wrapped up by something unknown, taut around my skin, drawing me closer towards the wall. I press my face against the cold, solid surface and stare.. I see forever beyond the walls. Forever, and everything that I want beyond this cage. Everything beautiful dances for me, waving their limbs in invitation for me. "Come play with us!" They seem to sing as iridescent orbs leap from tree to tree, illuminating foliage and color. Engrossed, I press my face harder against the wall, greedy and envious of this outside world. A pressure begins to grow behind my eyes but is easily ignored as a flower blooms in front of me. Its golden petals radiating beauty as dew glistens in its folds and pores. In a moment, the pressure takes a hold of me and turns to blackness. A blackness that spills over my eyes and body, severing my sight and feeling. An emptiness fills my body, so empty that it hurts. My body stiffens and goes limp at the same time, crashing to the ground with a horrid sound.

I am still, dead, free.

Lost in the places I've been.

The constant drip-drop sound of water coming from the ceiling wakes a beauty from her sleep. Once again, another day with her own worst enemy, reality. The pills from the prior night, worn off, leaving her with a throbbing desire to drive a piece of broken glass into her skull. The thought of death is merely a minor comfort to her; she fears the thought of leaving something interesting behind. So, she ignores the headache with a smirk and a twinkle in her eye as she grabs her journal and a pen, jumping out of bed and out the door. Leaving her home in the same clothes as yesterday.

She walks, dragging her feet across age old pavement, destination unknown -whatever calls her name. The daylight kisses her face softly, pulling her out of sleep and darkness. She extends her arms up towards the sky -as if the kiss the sun with worn fingertips- smiling, feeling beautiful for once. Life seems to stop in this moment; cars halt in their mid-noisy scramble across the earth; the unnerving whine and destruction of lawnmowers frozen in place; a bird stiffens and blends into the backdrops of trees in a frozen dive towards the ground. Everything is still. Everything is quiet, allowing her this one moment with the sun. A smile, the purest of happiness, is born upon her face as she glides her fingers through the sun above her. The motion of her fingers send ripples through the sky, blending golden rays with sky blues, while sending a tinge of warm flowing through her limbs.

Birds begin their choir once more. The symphony of machines begin to roar in the distance. The lawnmowers pick up their earth-shattering tantrums and continue. She drops her arms as they swing idly beside her slouching body. She lowers her gaze in disappointment as she picks up her heavy feet. Breathe in, breathe out.

...

He took a breath, exhaling deep regret upon her face. Her expression frozen in fear, forever, cold and unforgiving. The blades of the willow tree, looming above, begins to sway as he kisses her cheek for the last time. I'm sorry my dear, you did your best. He croons into her deafened ear as he wipes his hand across his cheek, -a scratch mark from a struggle- evidence that will heal.

Her body becomes one with the earth, buried deep under the ground. The ground that life walks so carelessly around on, unknowing. She flutters her eyelashes as muted footsteps scatter above her, dissolving into a painful silence. Her hearing is back; thighs are sore; neck is broken. She blinks rapidly, trying to rid the dirt from under her eye lids. Her heart -once frozen with death, still with stiffened, thick blood- begins to pump heavy spasms that shake her body, throwing her breast violently up and down. Her hands claw towards the sky in fury, breaking the surface of her grave. Radiant moonlight pierces her skin as she takes her first breath in days. A ghastly noise, mixed between a gasp and a howl, escapes her mouth as her body shudders in relief.

A dream and wake.

Walking barefoot in the desert. I saw you running toward me, through mirage and the high noon sun, with knives bared like teeth; fingers splayed out scraping the scenery; pillows of bruises floating underneath your balmy skin. Run away, run away. Turn around, turn around. I am no match for you. Beads of sweat drip from my swollen temples, colliding with the broken ground making it tremble and making me sway.

Everything is steady, everything is slow.. Bottled up for the world to show. Clicking bottlenecks against the fencepost, she throws her head back to laugh. The sun bathes her pearly face as she forgets the joy of the moment. The bottle slides from her fingers. Her lips curl into a devious smile as her feet begin to take her away.. To something foreign and new.



Hands, oh hands.. Precious, beautiful instruments of our minds, with the power to create and to destroy; to love and to explore.