monsters

i believe in monsters. without a doubt. they lurk in the shadows of dark, gray places, shuffling in the quiet of early morning. waiting for an opportunity to show itself to them. knowing that patience will reap its own benefits in the end. we can try to deny their existence. we can refuse to give them validity. we can boast about our invincibility in the face of their terror. but in the end, when we're left alone with our doubts and our fears and our inadequacies, we still tremble in fear at the inevitable. the monsters will raise their heads from the deepest corners of our minds, take a bold step towards us, like a hunter stalking its prey, its senses heightened by our insecurities, honing in on our weakness. occasionally, it'll play with us like a cat with a trapped mouse. and at other times, it springs, violently and suddenly, catching us completely unaware. but no matter the method of its attack, attack it does. slashing and gnawing at us, leaving us too weak to fight, drained and worn and humbled. and each time it crawls away, satiated, we're left to wonder....why didn't it just finish me when it had the chance?

may-december

she spent half her life waiting for him to come into this world. and the other half waiting for him to grow up. it seemed to her that the entire expanse of her time on this earth was spending waiting on him. and she waits still. for what exactly, she isn't sure. but somewhere deep down she knows whatever that something is, it won't be pleasant. she waits for him to call. she waits for him to think of her. she waits for the day when he doesn't call anymore. she knows there's no hope for a relationship like this. she understands the gap, but when she thinks of his voice, it doesn't matter. shielding herself from the inevitable hurt isn't as important as hearing his voice one more time. she knows she belongs to him completely. she knows he doesn't belong to her. at all. the inequities of life are extant. she sighs....and waits.

time marches on

the zeal of youth. their passions sear them like an all-consuming fire. burning brightly, mezmerizing and tantalizing. spreading and fanning the flames, preaching the gospel of truth as they see it, while the rest of the world stands back watching, wondering, rationalizing, puzzling. its a responsibility. a heavy one at that. this evangelizing of the young. and only the young can stand up to it. but after a time, it begins to wear them down, dragging them lower and lower until one day, they wake up, tired to the bone, their eye sight fading and their bones creaking. aches where there were none the day before. and they notice the burn is not quite so intense now. age is dousing it, cooling quicker and quicker until ice begins to form where once there was heat. and as a last concerted effort, the wrinkled hand struggles to lift the torch and pass it along to the next generation of revolutionaries.

dangers of 'over-gaming'

yesterday, i was driving down the street, on my way to absolutely nowhere, when out of the corner of my eye, i spied a hobgoblin infiltrator with a full orange health bar floating over top of his head. i reached down to click my hot bar #7, bringing forth my +4 Longsword of Diabolism and +4 Heavy Metal Shield, readying myself for the attack. it was at that moment that i realized is wasn't a hobgoblin infiltrator at all. it was a woman in a jacket made of some furry substance carrying a silver umbrella. good thing i came to this realization at that exact moment because a few minutes later, i'd have been profusely apologizing to her for attacking her with my dipstick.

precarious situations

people use the term "bird on a wire" to denote a precarious situation. but when you think about it, a bird on a wire isn't that shaky. i mean, look at their little feets. those little claw thingies wrap around a wire just perfectly. and they have a great sense of balance. i mean, they're used to standing on two feet cause well, thats all they have. now....a hyena on a wire is a whole different story. That critter could fall at any minute. so from now on, i'm going to say "hyena on a wire" and you'll know exactly what i'm talking about. ok?

Gamers' Hell

A gamers hell: your soul, upon death, is relegated to an NPC making you go through eternity trapped in a MMORPG uttering inane comments to 15 year olds. You want to say more than the script calls for. You want to assume your old character and join a party to complete the quest but you're stuck standing outside the dungeon talking to avatars that you know are a front for real live people. Inside, your brain is screaming for escape. Inside, you remember what it was like to belong to the real world. Inside, you die a little more each day in spirit but your soul just won't release.

Just a thought. :)