I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden

I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden

by Crazy Lunatic Wizard Vlad

I have three little piggies in my garden,

They're all so soft and cute, I love them all,

Only, I have a bigger problem,

I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden.

This poem might not make no sense,

Nor gramatically or logically,

That is the point, you may have guessed,

I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden.

You see, the problem is with pigs,

They reproduce, and hate intruders.

So all the piggies' little sons,

Protect my lovely garden.

I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden.

Only, I have a bigger problem,

They're all so soft and cute, I love them all,

I have three little piggies in my garden.

But these piggies hate me so,

Think I am the Evil Man,

They want to take my house over,

Conquer my lovely house.

I wonder why they all hate me,

I gave them life, and let them free,

Maybe, that is their problem!

I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden!

They wanted love, they wanted care,

I was busy doing magic.

Now I am old, not young, like then,

But now, they don't care.

I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden.

I'll never even get around to.

Since I can feel their knife in my back,

I've yet to hug... a piggy in my gard-....

Welcome back! (and Quidditch in Romania)

Hello, peeps! Welcome back! It has been a WHILE since I last posted, mostly because school, exams, blah-blah. But now I have a summer's worth of time to kill and ready to start back again! With a changed writing style, because I change and develop over time. 

So, a lot of you may probably have (never) asked yourself this question: how is Quidditch in Romania? Glad you asked, person I've probably never met! It's basically the same, we just have candy canes and meatballs instead of brooms and actual playing balls. It may seem like a waste but it's actually a way we prove our creativity, it's really interesting. They're genuine candy canes and meatballs prepared before each match, but we practice with plastic versions.

What's interesting about Romanian Quidditch isn't actually this, shockingly enough, but the dilemmas within. You're most probably not caught up with any of this so I'll go through everything, basically:

There's two sides: The Brown Bears (animals found in the biggest quantity in Romania of all Europe) and The Vampires. They... HATE each other. The mascots always fight each match, one pulling out their bear head to whack the other's fangs off. It's so bad pro-Bear people eat garlic sauce they get from KFC (yes, we, Romanians, have that in our KFCs) with fries to show their hatred towards The Vampires. But, the most recent news is: fans of The Brown Bears ambushed a McDonalds restaurant (pro-Vampire, rival of pro-Bear KFC) and poured an entire garlic sauce down the best Vampire player, a NIGHT before the match. So, the Vampires lost. I am pro-Vampire and furious at these primitive animals' barbaric actions. We play a noble game, due to our players' delicate skin's sensitivity to daylight they play at night, find subtleness in the taste of wine and dress elegantly, as shown by our fine robes.

I hope this satisfied your curiosity towards a previously unknown situation.

The Orangade

Being a student of a class of Orangi aspiring scientists of The Orangade Galaxy, we were assigned a collaboration project, to test our capabilities, using all knowledge gathered, while also helping our interplanetary citric people: we had to study the Great Orange Meteorite, the one made of the skin of my folk, identified as an other humanoid race's doing, The Founders. Together, we, the class, were driven by the same goal, to study the circuits of our creation, the origins of our artificial intelligence and our bodies' way of producing another algorithm for our future children...

While in the interplanetary vehicle, a thought dawned on me: the result of this project will greatly impact my career, and also my people. Any mistake could eliminate the chance to discover the reason for our existence, and with it my dream of becoming a researcher, passionate about science...

Cooperation was essential.

Things went better than expected: we discovered a document delivered in binary form, a form present in our algorithms. Out of nowhere appeared a dark, massive silhouette. Its beige skin revealed by Nora, the main star of the solar system we were in's light, was extraoranji, similar to our science-fiction writings. I then notice its humanoid structure, its face, eyes, nose, ears, locomotor system, and others, which all indicated to similar origins to ours... “A Founder!”, I shouted. He approached us, took our document and burnt it in front of our very eyes using his thermally-adjustable glove. He left us there, petrified by what had just happened!

Our discovery alarmed The Orangade. We passed and graduated, but our folk is now troubled by curiosity and the mystery behind our origins, our existential crisis...

Bread

 I am a baker. People tell me what I bake is not dough. Although it all looks the same to me and all I cook for enjoy my bread.

 I am always confused as to why so many neglect my dough and why they show me pictures of me making it. They all use weird words, which all mean dough. I have always been cooking it and my mother always supported me, so she sent me to a special school. There I baked more and many loved my dough.

 Nobody ever wanted to work with me, which was always very confusing. I never understood this weird love and hate for my dough, and every time I read newspapers I see the same thing: “amazing new concept of dough”, which always confuses me, since I never think I did anything different, and “horrific”, “dog”, “blood”, “cat”, “living beings”. Why everybody blames me for making bread of living beings is confusing. They are dough beings, of different sizes. Bakers always cook dough, and so do I. To avoid the other bakers and people arguing with what I do, I go at midnight and collect my usual dough. From special places where they grow it or houses where they keep it. I always get out their collars and then mash them with my rolling pin. I then cook it with love in the morning and sell it.

 My bakery has gone up in flames two times. I was informed it wasn't of natural causes, but the arsonists were never found.

 Would you eat my bread?

Attraction Distraction

Four lines. Three turn into congruent isosceles triangles, their sides larger than the base. The fourth turns into a square.

The first triangle turns green, the second purple, and the third yellow. The square turns blue.

A big red circle appears and attracts the three triangles. They stick to it. In their distraction, three little white circles, camouflaged with the paper, steal the blue square, their priceless possession. They finally notice after the circle turned pink, then light green. They press onto the circle, compressing it into a small circle, and they start to throw it. Eventually, it grows back. The fight begins.

The circle breaks in four sectors, three of them each going towards a triangle, while the fourth is drawing something. The green triangle detaches its top section and from its inside comes out a missile, heading towards the attacking sector. It dodges it but the missile reaches the sector attacking the yellow triangle, breaking it into shards. The yellow triangle puts the shards inside it after removing its top and forms a sword, heading for the sector attacking the purple triangle. It gets split in half, and the newly forms sectors stick to the sector attacking the green triangle, as if they were arms. The triangles successfully dodge some attacks before the yellow triangle manages to cut the main body in two. It then doesn't hesitate to cut it into shards.

The fourth sector has been drawing a big square, and inside appear the three white sector with the blue square. The yellow triangle quickly breaks the last sector and breaks the big square for the others to come in and ambush. They manage to catch two circles and the last is broken by the yellow triangle. The other triangles throw the white circles. The triangles and the square leave to sit , eternally, in peace, on the paper.

Wet Cold Tissue

A wet tissue. On cold metal. The tissue spreads on the surface beneath, sinking into the thin sponge hidden down below, whilst also not soaking. Black surrounds all, and there is nothing beneath the cold metal cube to hold it. It floats, though still, through the void, not moving. It seems as if it were anchored in some 3D program. Then, he comes.

He who wears no clothes, he who is warm, floating, moving through the cold black, towards the metal cube, and embraces it, mixing the boiling heat and the freezing cold together. He who feels the wet cold of the tissue on his right ear, slowly soaking, absorbing into his ear, reaching deeper and deeper. He likes it and doesn't hold back. A water drop is heard. Water drops start dripping through a hole through in the middle of the metal cube's bottom, dripping from the spongy inside, reaching what looked like a liquid surface 5 meters below, returning to the solid, invisible, transparent, inexistent state, until another one drops 5 seconds after. After 10 drops, he closes his eyes in pain, darkness in front of his eyes, and says: “My ears stopped working”. He suddenly shakes, nervously, suddenly, every 5 seconds, precisely 2.4 seconds after each water drop. After 5 drops, 3.7 seconds after the latest, he detaches from the metal cube and floats in the opposite direction through the cold black, looking scared at it.

Apple

Look at this apple as I am holding it with both of my hands in front of you in the dark cellar dimly lit by the candle on the desk behind me. Study its red color, with shades of light green, attracting the caged creature hidden away by darkness in the corner close to you. Feel its weight by studying through the power of vision in this cellar, ignoring the spiralling staircase going upstairs at the back end wall.

Birthday

It really is, no joke, my birthday today lol

The egg lies on the luxurious sofa, pouring champagne into his yolk through a funnel on its head while I enter the living room: it is my birthday. The egg turns towards me and raises the glass of champagne. I pick another glass from the wooden table and we drink. The orange enters the room, carrying a cake. It then smashes it into its head and sings the Happy Birthday song.

From near the table comes the chair, accompanied by Lucy, smiling happily. A Romanian Beaver slowly approaches us from the hallway of the luxurious mansion. A leashed large as a zeppelin shark is brought up into the ceiling of the living room, swimming through the air. Detective Rainbow looks at everything from a corner, as he has informed me he is working on another case, carefully examining everybody's feelings. A creepy man is watching a video with a 3D airplane flying and a pumpkin with crystal eyes is looking at us. Three 1 cubic meter long dice arrive, late to the party, each accompanied by their partner: a garlic glove, a pencil sharpener and a piece of orange skin. The remote spirit is observing us from above.

We dance, listening to vaporwave, naturally (my birthday, my music ;P) until the night arrives. We bring the orange, and he attaches a firework to himself and we all go to the rooftop, from where we send him flying through the sky. The firework then explodes and forms an orange on the sky while we all applaud.

“Listen everyone!”, I say as everybody turns around me. “I want to thank you all for taking part in the celebration of my birthday! You truly are wonderful friends!”. Everybody cheers and sings Happy Birthday. This really is a moment to cherish.

The Adventures of a Chair, Chapter IV

The Adventures of a Chair

Chapter IV

Enemy Territory

I hope you enjoy the ending of The Adventures of a Chair! This was fun!! Read the others here: Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III.

Lucy looks in shock at the chair. Wo... work? Pa... papers? Where is everything?? Where is she?

The chair knows her questions. “No matter”, he says. “We are leaving.”

Lucy is confused. Who is this chair and what does it want from her?

The chair goes towards the back of the classroom and looks at a map of the world. Focusing its mind on it, the continents move. On a small island are the 128 soldiers moving the island towards the continent formed from the rest: enemy territory. A little piece of land is behind the trajectory of the island: the abandoned homeland. The homeland is no more, being the Object World. The island is what is now, the Human World, and the enemy territory what is to be, the goal, any other world, or place. A fight is to arrive and the enemy territory is closer and closer to the approaching island.

Lucy is still near the greenboard and looks in shock at the entrance of the classroom, from where a shark appears, swimming as if air was its water. The soldiers have arrived on the enemy territory and are raiding an enemy camp. The chair took the decision to fight and it will now fight. But he will now protect Lucy, the goddess.

The shark heads for Lucy who looks scared at the shark. Near the greenboard sit 5 pieces of chalk: one long, brand new, two medium-sized ones and two little cubes, barely even usable. The chair controls the long, brand new chalk piece towards it, penetrating the shark's insides in the process. It then pushes the chalk piece back towards the greenboard and pierces the shark again. It falls to the ground. The chair goes towards Lucy. Lucy looks at the chair, trembling. “We need to move”, says the chair. Lucy sits on the chair and the chair leaves the school.

Outside is a grotesque view: Lucy and the chair are in the “enemy territory”. It looks like the Human World, except the sky is dark red and sharks are swimming everywhere through the thin air. Every human is running everywhere, trying to save their skin. But little do they know they are not living in the normal world, like their separate identities are.

Out of nowhere appears a giant chicken and swallows Lucy, and leaves. The chair needs to find Lucy. The chair closes its eyes. Everything turns dark. Opening its eyes in the darkness that is now surrounding him, he sees the enemy camp shaping in full size. His soldiers are... dying. Fighting, but losing. Is all hope lost? Is this it?

The darkness suddenly breaks as out of the dark red sky appears a shark and swallows the chair. And everything turns dark again. But now there is no enemy camp. Just dead soldiers. The journey is over. There is no more Lucy. There is no more Object World, Human World, Enemy World... just darkness.

Meet Henry. He is wearing a cardboard cubic box on its head. In the box are his head, a can of spilt soda, an egg, a map, chalk, a shark plushie, a doll, an apple, a coin, a miniature chicken and a miniature chair. Everybody tried talking to Henry, but he would never answer. He wouldn't move, but he still lives. So nobody bothers him. But to him, these objects have a meaning. To him, these objects have a story. Here we have the spilt soda a chair dived in, an egg a chair fought, a map a chair looked at, chalk a chair used, a shark a chair fought, a doll a chair cared for, an apple a chair used, a coin a chair received, a chicken a chair hated and... a chair. Together they created The Adventures of a Chair, a story only spoken to him, by the life of objects.

R E G R E T

I can roll a tissue on a carpet. I can then roll the carpet on the tissue. So the tissue can get stuck. Suffocate. Mercilessly. By my hand. I can place the tissue under the carpet, and let it get crushed in darkness.

I place the tissue on the carpet and cry. I care for the tissue and it doesn't deserve anything like this. But the tissue knows what I had in mind. It ignores me. Avoids me. And all I can do is cry eternally...

You could crush a tomato with a baseball bat. You could let the tomato slowly get crushed by the baseball bat's weight. You could drown the tomato in a can filled with water. You could empty out the can, plae the tomato, let it rot, and either crush it or leave it in pain.

You don't. You didn't think of any of this. Nobody ignores, nor avoids you. You haven't done anything. And all you can do is be happy.

I feel guilty. You feel happy.

I feel heavy. You feel light.

A star on the sky. Smiling at me. I look at it. I get out a ladder. I want to pick it up. I touch it. It avoids me. I climb down.

The following night, I look up, and see the star's back: I hurt it. It ignores me. I cry, and leave. It's best I leave it alone.

The following night, I peek through a window. The star ignores me. There is no hope. I leave, and cry.

I have a chair. I like my chair. It is my friend.

I want more wood. I am near the chair. I chop down one of its legs: I exploit it. I made a mistake.

I look at the chair. It doesn't look back. It ignores me. I want my chair. I want my friend back.

But I can't. It is too late. There is no hope. I cry, and leave.

Weird=awesome

Sometimes, I think I'm too weird.. I am dancing with an apple bird while singing from a chunk of meat as of writing this... But then I say to myself: how is that bad? Well... it's not!

Here, let me show you:

A knife

In a table

Stabbing

An apple

Through

A worm

Struggling

Not to drown

In Pepsi.

See what I mean? How is that bad? It's entertaining!

I can even do stuff like this:

m a shr w q

What does that mean? Bird. To me that means 'bird'.

k q u erq n

Now THAT means 'tree'.

So then 'in' will be

l g irf bn

Which pretty much means m a shr w q k q u erq n l g irf bn is bird in tree! Music to my ears!

I can do whatever I really fancy with this! Mk aq shru werq qn means bird-tree! Either a bird with leaves instead of feathers, or a tree with feathers instead of trees. It is to be understood from the given context.

There is no limit to your imagination, and don't let anyone tell you you're stupid. And if they tell you you're weird, thank them! You're not stupidly ordinary like the others! They're the weird ones -_-

Object Life

The trash can looks up at the little stand on which the sponge sits, then looks in front of it where sits a bucket. It's a miserable life.. no means to talk to those of your kind, or anybody for that matter... this life of objects... it's painful. Not to mention the dreadful inside stench of garbage and the toxic talk of the students in class, and the occasional kicks... it isn't easy, being a spectator to your very own life, unable to control anything that surrounds you.. Nobody sees you, nor notices you. Pieces of chalk sit on the floor, waiting for their painful life to end, hoping to get crushed any of the students or teachers.. Oh, how dreadful must it be to wish your life away...

The trash can looks to the right, at the wall on which sits the grand greenboard. Some objects live way better lives than others. It gets to see children grow up to men, entire generations. It's filled with written knowledge and spoken anecdotes.. If it were to be a person it would be charming and intelligent... But the trash can would be severe, a short-tempered person who wouldn't take any joke lightly.

Objects are different to, but they may all get equally good lives in the afterlife, this Object World, a second chance for objects, where they rule over the world. No filthy human can touch this sacred land.

Killing a King

 I see the tomato, grab it, and squeeze it. Its juice comes out with a splash, with chunks and occasional drips of blood. Its skin dries under the burning heat of my palm, turning into a shade of very dark red. I slice it with the cold, metallic, frozen knife and place it on the stale bread. I put it on the bright red plate and offer it to the king. The flaming hot dried tomato should kill him.

Tocks and Bocks

When the chicken bock then tock the clocks, but never has a tock met a bock.

That is until curious little Adam tried to see what tocks think of bocks and bocks of tocks. He put a chicken near a clock. The clock would tock but the chicken wouldn't bock, and when little Adam made the chicken bock the clock wouldn't tock. So Adam threw the chicken on the clock. So the chicken bocked, and the clock tocked... and out of nowhere appeared a chiclock. Adam looked at the chiclock in surprise, expecting the unexpected: what would the chiclock do? Tock or bock?

The chiclock looked at the chicken, then at the clock, and finally at Adam. It bocked, then it tocked.

That happens when a tock meets a bock.

Interaction Action?

Hello everybody! I have seen some people actually read my blog! Which is nice!!
But I don't really talk to you... ever. I write my weird stories here, and you read them (which is awesome, it's hard for me to believe I have people who come here for more). So I wanted to interact with you guys!
You can either comment down below (scroll down and you'll see it) or tweet something at me on Twitter (@Vladimir520Ant)! I will be replying to all of you (because really, no notification goes unread here).

Walking on Orange Alley at night

I wrote this text for English contest preparations. I wonder how my teacher will react... Anyways, it had to be 120-130 words long, without the given ending “It was only then that I realised they had mistaken me for someone else.”.

The one shortcut I knew to his house was Orange Alley. I had no choice, as it was late.

Everything was so... grim, severe in this particular alley, in contrast with the town's crazy night life. Some oranges were playing cards while others were warming their hands at fire barrels, an odd thing, considering how easily orange burn themselves. Everybody was giving me weird looks: what was an egg doing in such a place at night?

Through a narrow gap between two flats came four orages, carrying a cracked unconscious egg. Yolk with blood was dripping from the little crack, which looked like a hole from a gunshot.

One orange gave me a creepy smile I have yet to forget, greeted me and made me hide the egg with them and leave after calling me... Bert?

It was only then that I realised they had mistaken me for someone else.

The Adventures of a Chair, Chapter III

The Adventures of a Chair

Chapter III

Lucy

The human in the bed yawns and wakes up, opening its eyes. It gets up. It's wearing pijamas. It gets to the bathroom to get ready for work.

Given by the make-up on the table near the chair the human must be a female. The chair notices a small square nightstand near the bed. The chair slowly goes to it, and focuses its mind on it. An 8x8 grid appears, revealing a grotesque view to the chair: its entire army, massacred. The king, lying dead on the ground. The Egg's Kingdom even stole the king's crown. The battle was lost. The chair is crushed. It meant his life was ruined. Something else was going to happen. He needed forget the past life from whence he came. This is it now.

The human gets out of the bathroom, all suit up. It looks to pick up its bag from the... chair. But it is not there. It looks and sees the chair sitting by the nightstand, looking at a dead army of little 2 inch tall soldiers and a crownless king. She lets out a scream, and the chair moves out of its place in shock. Then, something least expected happens, something the chair would never think it ever could be able to: the chair talks. The chair lets out a scream.

-Y-you... says the human, c-can.. talk?

-I guess so...

-And those are...? it says looking at the dead army.

-My army. It died. Now my life changed. I am unable to reach the place I left from. I belong here now.

-O.. oh... m-my n-name is.. Lucy...

-I guess my name is... Chair?

-Y-yeah... Look, I gotta go to work, we can.. discuss this later..?

Lucy leaves. The chair, amazed by its recently discovered speaking abilities, decides to speak to itself. It murmurs sentences such as 'I am a fox running over a lazy dog looking at the sun covered with a tissue'. The chair finally becomes bored and decides to head for Lucy.

It gets out on the street. But nobody seems to notice the presence of this chair wandering about. It slowly crawls on the streets and reaches the main road. It is a Sunday early morning and the presence of 7 cars driving very close to each other, as a group, on the empty roads seems weird. The chair looks at them and asks:

-Who are you? What are you doing?

Out of each window comes out a man, near which stands another man driving. They all say in a choir:

-Visiting our sweethearts! We all have an affair!

The chair looks at them and thinks. Finally, it speaks:

-Don't your wives notice you're leaving?

-They sure do, but they don't mind! They know!

-Why are you all going in the same direction?

-We are going to the Affairs building!

The chair looks and tries to understand the oddity of this world it has reached. At last, it looks at them and says:

-Good day, gentlemen.

-Good day to you too! They reply as they get out their hats and throw them on the street, get in the chair, close the car windows and leave.

The chair goes at the hats and picks them up. By which it means they sit stacked one over the other on the chair's seat. It continues to walk on the street. A man comes by: bald, with a thick mustard yellow moustache, white blouse and yellow vest, with the same color as the moustache. He gets a hat from the chair, then gets out a coin and puts it on the chair's seat. Then a lady comes by: high-heeled shoes, with curly ketchup red hair, black clothes and a red dog, with the same color as the hair and shoes. She gets another hat from the chair, then gets out a coin and puts it on the chair's seat. Same do a bearded guacamole green man, a mayo white lady with a cat, a moustached curry yellow man and a barbeque brown lady with a parrot. Now the chair has one hat with 6 coins inside on its seat.

The chair walks inside a school besides the road. It enters a classroom and sits there, looking for Lucy. The school bell rings and the children get up. 6 of them get a coin from the hat on the chair and put an apple inside. The teacher dresses up and gets the hat from the chair, eats an apple and leaves. There are five apples on the chair, sitting in a pyramid form.

The chair goes towards the teacher's desk and finds a bowl of 3 golden fish. The chair focuses its mind on them and they are cut into squares. The fish squares now sit horizontally in the bowl, floating and forming a little board, with coordinates of X from 0 to 15 and Y from 0 to 7. On each square of the rectangle between X=0 and Y=0 to X=15 and Y=3 appears a soldier, facing positive Y, ready for battle: a new army. “Onwards”, says the chair, as the soldiers start jumping from a square to another, trying not to fall. They are heading for an enemy camp. The chair is looking for a purpose.

It then puts the 5 apples on the teacher's desk with his mind, one by one. Then gets chalk from the greenboard and draws a stickman. At each hand and foot sits an apple, also does one where the head is. The chair looks and focuses its mind. It thinks and travels through the most complicated of mind tunnels, searching within the depths of the Human World, focusing his mind on...

Lucy. Where is Lucy? Where could she be? Where can he find her. Entering an office building far away, with his mind, getting to the 4^th floor and turning right twice, he finds her.

On the teacher's desk is miraculously formed Lucy's body, replacing the chalk and apples from the teacher's desk, growing and growing more in size...

The Thread Raiders Evolution

Before I begin this conversation, chapter 3 of The Chair is coming soon! Read the first two chapters here: Chapter 1 and Chapter 2.

For those of you don't know, I am a Thread Raider (read this). And I have an interesting topic of discussion regarding this.

We seem to have gone from Twitter to Discord. @Cptsugarbear on Twitter, former Thread Raider, changed his old Discord group into the Thread Raiders Discord Group (awesome dude, check him out!). Now, we are a small community. A very small community. And all of our conversations are either D&D-related projects and casual conversations. With the creation of this group, all this, quite few conversations have been moved along into different text channels. Twitter is barely in use for the Thread Raiders. Of COURSE we still do interact with the amazing #dnd community and some of us aren't even in the group! But most Thread Raiders focused conversations are now in the Discord group.

Now, what does this mean? Are the Thread Raiders losing what they first were? NO. Absolutely not. You could look at these in more ways:

The Thread Raiders are now less accessible. We are, at core, nerds who just like to chat and hang out. A community built on love and love only. We stand for positivity in this world of Internet which is so, SO filled with toxicity. We aren't the only ones, a lot of people are positive in this world in which it's so simple to type some words to some comment, but some don't think about the consequences. While most of us are D&D fans/gamers, we accept anybody. But moving into a private group kinda makes us less accessible.

On the other hand, we are evolving. We are moving into another place, where it is easier to discuss things. In the past, using only Twitter meant casual conversations with funny replies and gifs. Now, we can make projects and stand for what we stand for. By moving in Discord we become more and more self-aware. We aren't detaching from the #dnd community of Twitter, which is freaking amazing! We are creating our own corner, which makes us a different community. We are still a sub-community of the #dnd world, but still, we are evolving. Also, this speed of messaging we are now in makes things go a lot faster, and also, all conversations are actually easier to find! You can see there's new messages in the Discord group, but it's harder to find threads in the network of Twitter people just forgot to mention you in. If we had to mention each other, that would basically mean there is a limit to our growth. We would have to type in every single member of the Thread Raiders just to talk about, say, our Minecraft server (I am not going to talk about that, don't ask). Now we are gathered in this place, and aiming for the greater.

Snail. I. Bathtub. Foot Crush (brace)

Snail

in bathtub

crawling

slowly

towards the sinkhole

I

watch

disturbed

turn shower on

Bathtub

slippery

wet

slimy

from snail

Snail

slippery

slips

reaches sinkhole

sits there

drowning

sad

I

desperate

foot

crush

Snail

crushed

destroyed

hopeless

dying

broken shell

mass of slime

Bathtub

slimy

slippery

Weird words to disturb you:

crunchy

crispy

banana meaty insides+snail mucus

mucus

taste

Analysis of a Freestyle sentence

I decided to make an in depth analysis of one of the Freestle Writing sentences from the previous post, together with a translation.

Gehn'ich Weld in col-Stuck-lecten Fire for. Have-now-be, Mark, ecout-und Vat-dein-er.

Ok, so, here's the translation:

“I am going in the forest to collect sticks for fire. Now, Mark, behave and listen to your father.”

“gehen” is a verb in German, meaning “to go”. A shorter version is created, “gehn”, and is kept that way, without a conjugation, also adding in “ich”, meaning “I”, also in German. They mix in together nicely, resulting in “Gehn'ich”. To create a musicality in the sentece and change up the topic a little the order of the words is changed, “Weld”, meaning “forest” in German and “in”. “Weld” is written with a capital letter due to the fact that, in German, nouns always begin with a capital letter. Any article is removed as it is no longer needed in our newly formed topic. It needs to be short and simplist. “col-Stuck-lecten” can be separated into “collecten” and “Stuck”. “collecten” is the verb “to collect” in English turned into a German verb using “-en”, present in (almost all) German verbs: schwimmen, trinken, treffen etc. “Stuck” means "stick" in German and is written with a capital letter because of the German rule presented beforehand. The reason for this travel in the forest is explained in the last noun-preposition group, previously met before in “Weld in”: “Fire for”. Everything is pretty self explanatory. Also “Fire” is written with a capital letter like all other nouns in this sentence.

The word “behave” is separated, inspired by the prefixes commonly used in German to form other verbs, for example “kommen”, “to come” turns into “bekommen”, “to get”. Also, linked with this verb used in the Imperative is the time mentioned “now”, resulting in “Have-now-be”. Also “have” is pronounced “hayve”. The link verb-conjuction is used here, similar to the noun-preposition one. The verb is a French one, “ecouter”, meaning “to listen”, used at the Imperative with the German rule, with which the Imperative form of a verb is formed removing the infinitive suffix. The French suffix here is “-er”, which is removed, “ecout-” now being mixed with the conjuction “und” from German, meaning “and”. The verb “to listen” instantly requires the “to” preposition (“to listen to”), and, following the short-and-simplist aspect of the phrase, it is no longer used. “Vat-dein-er” is similar to “col-Stuck-lecten” and “have-now-be”, as the first and last pieces form together the main word the middle components link to. “Vater” means father in German and “dein” means “your”, also in German.

Well, I hope you enjoyed, as this gave me a massive headache and it will probably give you one too!

Freestyle/Fudged up Topic!

A set of the weirdest sentences I could make!

I started writing, combining many languages (all I know, German, French, English, Romanian) and called it Freestyle Writing. It's a thing that, actually, has some potential. I wrote a poem and there's many things you can do. French and German combined sound fantastic! Different phrases formed in Freestyle can define a character's personality. A movie in Freestyle could be glorious fun, and subtitles could be in any language, since the primary language is kinda hieroglyphs to everybody, but sounds nice! It also brings the aspect of foreignness, which is pretty cool!

Also, I recently wrote in another weird style (Weird, WEIRD writing) which was playing with the topic and changed words. So, this is Freestyle combined with seriously fudged up topic! Enjoy and may Google be merciful when helping you understand this! At request, you could ask me what one sentence means and I will guide you through every single detail, just write it down in the comments section!

Gehn'ich Weld in col-Stuck-lecten Fire for. Have-now-be, Mark, ecout-und Vat-dein-er.

Haven lang wir searchen, re-kein mais-sult.

Und freaca die Maimutzen menta, und lassen die Bananen sad sein.

Je suis dans ein Papier. Look'ich dann am sol und seh-ich deux lignees: suis-j'un stickman.

Crois-je l'il j'ai killed.

Crois'j'il est mort.

Einingstens Geld kann'ich t'offre: hier.

Crois j'ich bin weird, ai-je d'amis pur ce confirm.

Et so pouvais le genial savant ce box hiden.

Mais peux-je ne pas write quand hor'ich voices.

So then.. hat anyone verstanden was ich gesagt hab'?

Pick j'up mein Sword und stab s'ich.

Pern'open ich stabbing, find ich le treasure!

Risen die Soldaten das Flag of Hate, angry'st le Konig.

Protect carpet pricy one with cheap.

Ai-j'il, control j'il, est-il mein.

K'inghope c'u'll read, write ce Ko.

Aime'ich l'album das dieser genial artist, Blank Banshee, die hat Vaportrap inventen, qui j'adore, weil es ist hip hop avec de electronic und plunderphonics mit instrumental: genial!

Sehr mag'ich tein Cup!

Danc'ich shame-kein ball-dans-Zimmer.

Lookn m'at Menschen, bin'ich-und embarassed.

Fight-ich l'embarassement, cont-ich, und-inue dance.

Known wir nicht de c'action criminal... hab'ich nicht de clues enough... Ah, ist-ce case most frustrantement!

Ah, Michelangelo, ist t'arte genial, war-mais-rum le nudity?!

Drinkn, Pirats, gehn-wir denn tre-hunt-asure-ing!

You can now comment!

I had the setting off; well that was stupid.

COMMENTS EVERYBODY!!

Three Dice

Three dice. On a table. Seeking a destiny. A purpose. Something... legendary. Something different from being used as dice for Monopoly, when every time one of them would sit out, alone, being the third, and cry in silence. The dice need unity and a greater purpose.

So what can they do? Where cab they start? Well, first off, they have to jump off the table. Which means unbearable pain. Of course they can make it and nothing will happen to them, but it is the most painful thing for a die to fall. It is a sacrifice needed to make.

So the three dice jump, and scatter all across kitchen floor. One of the dice falls inside a basket, another falls under a chair, and finally, the last one rolls through the floor, and finally hits the trash can.

The die in the basket looks around, and sees a garlic clove. It gets close to the die and says: “Oh, how long has it been since I got to see another fellow!”. Its breath stinks and spreads all around the basket. “Forgive me”, says the die, “but I must go. It has been nice meeting you, but my destiny is for something greater. Also, need I meet my brothers I so dearly love.”. “What is this?”, replies the clove of garlic. “Oh, you thought you had a choice, didn't you? No, you're not leaving me alone here! I will not let you!”. The die looks at the clove and thinks. “Then, why don't you join us in this adventure through the unknown?”, suggests the die. “As much as I would like to, I too have fellow brothers I care for and need I not abandon them”. “Well,” says the die, “where are they?”. The clove stares at the die. “Oh, for how long did I not accept the harsh, harsh truth... Yes, indeed, they are not here anymore... The master made garlic sauce... It was a horrid thing but thought I if I forget such event or think of the possibility of another head of garlic broken into cloves for sauce I might still... believe in their existence. It is time to face reality and head for a greater destiny than a miserable life in an empty basket, waiting to be eaten away by some insect or rat or turned into garlic sauce...”

And so the garlic clove joins the die, both in the spirit of adventure. “Where are my brothers?”, the die thinks.

Under the chair, the second die looks around. It still feels pain, but is slowly recovering, as in the distance he sees a pencil sharpener. The pencil sharpener cries.

“What is the matter?”, asks the die. “Oh, for how long have I been forgotten under this stupid chair. Nobody wants me and I do not know what to do... I cannot move as I am full of pencil shavings... “. “Well, let me help! I am lost as I landed under this chair and I have been separated from my brothers by fate.”, it says as it opens up the pencil sharpener and frees it of its weight. “Oh, thank you so dearly much! But, after the way people treated me, I wish not assist them in any more of their drawings. The children have grown and do not draw any magical dragons or beautiful flowers for me to see their sweet innocent childish part; now they do homework and essays I cannot even comprehend and don't care about me, the one I watched them fully grow up, and abandon me under this stupid chair! I wish to join you in your marvellous adventure of curiosity, searching for the best, hoping for fate to offer you more than the boring life of objects!”

The die and pencil sharpener leave in search for the other dies. From behind a deep mumble can be heard: “I am not stupid...”, says the chair.

Near the trash can is the third die. The one that rolled all across the large kitchen at high speed then hit a trash can. It is most in pain and starts to scream.

“Oh, shut up!”, says something from the trash can.

“Who are you?”, the die asks.

Out of the trash can come out orange skin pieces. It's a horrible view, but the die is polite and says “I am sorry to see you in such shape”, to which the orange replies “It's ok. I am one of the ones not eaten as a whole, like garlic. But our fate is worse than theirs, as we are let to rot in the trash bag. You either die here or you die in the dump. Us organic objects suffer way more than any of you.”. “I feel bad to hear such horrible things you need to go through”, the die says. “Maybe I can help. Me and my two brothers are letting fate decide where we shall be taken, following no road, looking for a greater purpose. Do you wish to join us?”. “What you talk about intrigues me, but I have to lose more than a nine tenths of myself to join you, as only one piece of my skin can come along. However, I am willing to sacrifice a tenth of myself, so that I can leave this trash can once and for all. In my dreams will I see through my other tenths the horrible dump and feel rotting, but this piece shall live along these three noble and adventurous dice, following them in the riskiest of adventures! I might have little life left in myself, but I wish to use it to the max!”.

And so, after 5 minutes, the dice meet, together with the clove of garlic, pencil sharpener, and orange piece. And so they leave the kitchen, their eyes (which do not exist, they are invisible, surreal objects which define the object's field of vision) shining with hope.

Do you want a series of this? It's real fun to make, and if I see you guys like it I will make sure to continue!

NEWS NEWS: I am stupid

I realised I wish not limit myself while writing! I just write! Some might connect to the Whackyverse, some might not! No themes, as then I would not want to continue them, as it is annoying to be limited.

Anyways, new text coming real soon! In less than an hour kind of soon!

NEWS: New Approach

I will be taking a new approach on the blog:

I will create more short stories, each around a theme. Most themes will be around the Whackyverse, though there will be a few other ones. I am jumping into the world of short fiction blindedly, currently unknown to me, so I need to get more into it and start reading some, which is a hard task, considering how busy I am and the thing I need to do when I am 'free'. Currently, I am having an important exam this year, so this is one of those years...

During school breaks I will be writing more weird fables like The Tissue, over this school week. See you next weekend!

Weird, WEIRD writing

I tried out this SUPER weird style of writing. Who knows if I'm gonna continue writing stuff like this occasionally?

Hope Ko Lu like! <3

Legend:

K(o)-I, We, Me, Us.

L(u)-You.

M(e)-He, Him.

N(e)-She, Her.

J(u)-It, in general (not used for objects).

sol-And.

los-But.

Y-Why.

Ere-Where.

Oo-Who (same with other 'wh' questions)

Ot-Not.

ing[VERB]-[VERB]ing.

K'inghope Ne come, stay K'ingwatch television. Get bed K'ingwalk fridge toward out, get sol Ko butter out. Throw floor K'ingcry butter on. Be y here N'ot?! Rip shirt K'ingscream, step butter K'ing-slight-slip on. Fall K'ing-desperate-cry. Hear Ne K'ing-on-floor-be N'ing-door-unlock. Happy Ko be. Hug Ne Ko prepare. Shock Ko be in. Find Ko neighbor upset, M'ing-Ko-tell behave. Be naked sol embarassed Ko. Go bedroom bed Ko in. Sleep Ko.

Hear sound Ko. Late Ju be. Think Ko, come home Ne. Walk fridge toward K'ing-happy-be. See los thief Ko. Punch-desperate thief Ko. Be ground Ko M'ingleave on. Be knocked Ko out. Fall asleep Ko.

Walk Ko up, see los Ko N'ot, be los Ko sad. Have money K'ot, have Ko-N'ot, have nothing Ko. Shoot Ko Ko. Die Ko Ko. Say bye Lu Ko...

Fable - The Tissue

The people of the tribe in the come around the log, for the leader to tell them a story. They all sit on hot steaming iron, under which is a great fire. The shaman gets on the log, while everybody is sweating, and tells the story:

There once was a man, wearing dark clothes and dark robe, his face covered in black cloth. He went to a man of the tribe. He was wearing white clothes and washing a tissue in the river, getting rid of the black dirt on it. The dark clothed man kept watching the man, until he turned around, looking at the dark man, smiling, and said “Hello, my friend. What took you so long?”, and hugged him, accepting his fate. The dark man then stabbed the pure man. The pure man felt a short, painless death, with a smile on his face, a cold metallic blade piercing through his heart. He fell to the ground. The dark man then hid the pure dead body in a bush, and washed away the blood with the tissue, which he then washed and placed at the river's shore.

Many weeks later, a man stood by the river, fishing. And blood came pouring through, and blood told him of the dark man's crime. And the man told the tribe, and the dark man was killed. The fisherman then looked at what the dark man was carrying, and found a white tissue, filled with blood.

Cycle of Life

A car. A blue car. On a grey street. The street is empty. Nothing surrounds the street, but pitch black darkness. The street is blank, just a long curvy line going into a spaghetti of cement into the void. And inside the car is water. Dark blue water, with shades of dark green, seaweed. Salty water. The car's seats have sand and little rocks on them. In the water are some fish. Little fish. As little as a finger. And jellyfish. Small jellyfish. The size of a hand jellyfish. Swimming, near the swimming fish. The fish and jellyfish live in harmony.

The road goes straight, after going through the spaghetti route, and keeps going. But, suddenly, something different from the blue car with dark blue water with shades of dark green and sand and little rocks and fish and jellyfish, the void and the blank grey road can be seen: a traffic light. Red. A red traffic light. The car stops at the traffic light. Slowly. And then, chaos begins: the jellyfish and the fish are hungry. The fish eat seaweed, but the jellyfish do not have anything to eat... but the fish.

The attack starts: one jellyfish from the dark blue water with fewer shades of dark green heads for a fish consuming seaweed, then eats it. The fish start to spread out in the blue car, but they have no escape. The size of a hand jellyfish consume the little as a finger fish. The water in the blue car is of a dark blue with shades of dark red, blood.

The traffic light turns green and the blue car with the size of a hand jellyfish in the dark blue water with shades of dark red continues to go on the spaghetti blank grey road in the pitch black void. But, far away, from the void, appears a shark. A giant shark. The size of a zeppelin. Heading for the blue car on the grey street. It opens its mouth and consumes a part of the grey road. The spaghetti blank grey road now has a gap, in the shape of a mouth. There is no more blue car, no more dark blue water with shades of dark red, no more the size of a hand jellyfish. And the size of a zeppelin shark leaves into the darkness of the void...

Dr Burrow's Hidden Box

I did this because I was made to write a text with a given sentence in the body for an English contest. But the text felt so short (I had written 200, the limit being 140), I decided to make it bigger! I don't think I am making a Part 2 of this by the way

Hope you enjoy!

Long have they been searching for Dr Burrow's buried item, but never did they own the right equipment. The party was almost jumping to the conclusion that there was no possible way to hide an object so deep inside the cave's walls.

The person reading this might be wondering what this is all about and thinks to itself I might clear out its questions. Well, on the 22^nd December the year before, the rich, solitary, and brilliant scientist Dr Burrow passed away of old age. And in his will was found an enigmatic riddle, a beautiful subtle combination between literature and science: truly a work of art. The poem presented very exact geographical characteristics of the area in which Dr Burrow's son, Timothy's heritage was buried. The news about this mystery was first announced in the local newspaper Gallon, but soon gained massive amounts of interest all throughout the United States.

Timothy soon received aid from a group of scientists from the National Scientific Research Insitution of America. They decided to help, hoping that Dr Burrow's enigmatic “buried secret” all throughout important American newspapers and magazines would consist of more valuable sicentifc discoveries made by the famous wealthy scientist.

But, as previously mentioned in the beginning of this text, unfortunately the little party did not own the corresponding equipment. Their months of dedication on the riddle lead to Green Cave, known after its rare species of moss abundantly spread all across its rocky walls. The cave itself wasn't too big, but no matter how deep they have dug into Green Cave's walls, they discovered nothing. It was unbelievable how anybody could hide an object so deep inside the cave, yet still no sign of digging was left behind, anywhere. People began thinking the group of scientists have found the wrong place, or that there was no buried inheritance. Second hand newspapers started gossip, suspecting Dr Burrow's mental health getting worse by his life's end, or accusing him of memory loss and deliriously mentioning an inexistant heritage. But the search party knew there was no other place that had the same distinct properties as Green Cave, most mentioned in the scientist's poem and didn't dare suspect his mental health. Other scientists believed the same. Could it be that Dr Burrow had discovered something incredible, something only thought of as pure myths? It could be, given by his high level of intellect. Newspapers spread rumors, from teleportation to a whole new scientific branch, an entire field of exploration discovered by the genius science man.

But now, the government has decided to help with the search by sending in their latest invention, a contraption of millions, the most performant digging machine. It took years to make and was designed by the brightest of minds.

The machine was triumphantly marching towards the wealthy scientist's native town, near which sits his enormous mansion. It was driven by six people slowly dragging across the heavy contraption.

By the time the machine arrived, the party had already found out its arrival. It was the size and weight of a tank. As it was imposingly being dragged on the hill, Timothy and the scientists were gazing upon the enormous contraption. Luckily enough, the cave was wide and tall enough for the machine to fit into. But the veichle's usage was limited by the government, which couldn't allow digging in too deep and risking the cave to collapse and destroy the expensive device. But its boundaries were still significantly larger than the scientists' reach.

The had been digging, slowly and safely, for more than a week, and the party was starting to lose hope. But, one day, after 9 days of digging, in a moment least expected, at the crack of dawn, the machine reached something and a loud metallic noise echoed throughout the cave, Timothy looked in shock and, as the machine was going backwards, he went to see what it was the machine had found: it was a small metal box. The scientists were looking in disbelief of Dr Burrow's achievement, and looked at his son opening the box and looking back at them disappointed: inside the box were a key, and a riddle attached to it.

The search was not yet finished, and seemed to take longer than anticipated...