Showing posts with label freedom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label freedom. Show all posts

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Sweet Dreams

Warm and comfortable here in my bed, the door opens with a chilling breeze flooding every inch of me and my room.

*sigh*
The Best Time To Fly
by Muffin-and-Lemonade
deviantART


I close my eyes and prepare again for this ritual.
Sweet dreams are made of this, right?
This time, the beach.  The warm, soothing beach.
Right.
Here we go...

I feel the wet, soft sand breaking underneath my feet and squishing between my toes.  I look over the ocean's surface through my sunglasses from under my flamboyantly large sun-shading hat.  It's so calm and relaxing.  A wave rolls up the beach and wraps its fingers around my ankles.  I sink into the sand as the wave pulls away.  I stay put.  Can waves alone bury me in sand?  Another smooth wave deposits more sand over my feet.  This feels so weird!  My ankles are sensually bound by the sweat-soaked sand...

Wait!  Ouch!  I'm stuck!  This hurts!

"Shhhh!"

I gently lift my feet out of the sand and see my reflection in the water as the wave spills back into the ocean.  I love my red summer dress.  So retro chic with the red lace.
I look to the horizon again.
What's that?  Can't be a wave...that's far too big.  The surface has been so calm.  Oh no...  It is a wave...and it's coming my way.
Run run run!  I hear it fold over itself as it moans and groans toward me.  It's close, it's close!  Run faster, run faster!  
I knew I couldn't run fast enough.  It caught me - battered me down into the bed of sand, wind knocked out of me.  I'm drenched; soaked in sticky, slimy, stinky sea scum.  There's scum in my hair, scum on my face, scum in my mouth, scum in my...

*whop*

The towel hits my back.
"Clean yourself up.  You can shower in the morning.  'night."
"FUUUUCK YOU!"  I scream in my head and shriek with my eyes.
"Oh, and remember our deal."
"Goodnight," I grunt.

I'm still not very good at this.  I want to escape, travel the world, but then my escape even takes me.
Sweet dreams.  Ha.  What are they made of?
I don't even know any more.

It's impossible to transpose...
...Anger, Rage, Titillation, Penetration, Screams, Pain, Blood...
...into serenity. 

I didn't sleep.  Time for a calculated nap.
Ahhh...  This beach is simply beautiful.  I wish I could live here.  I wish I could leave home and stay in this place forever.  It's so warm...so safe...so calm...

Red Coat Reverie I
by shamoney shambles
Flickr
A familiar chill runs up my spine, engulfing my body.  I whip my head around to find myself surrounded by snow-covered peaks.  As I shiver in my bathing suit, I assure myself, "It's okay...it's okay.  I'll be fine.  This will work just fine.  Just stay here and I'll be fine."  I walk into the lodge followed by many stares and double-takes.  Luckily they have plenty of snow gear for sell.  I pull out my bottomless wallet and purchase a beautiful winter coat.  It's red with hint of lace.  Since I'm here, I guess I should at least rent some skis and try it out.

The ski lift ride is jostling, blustery, and white-knuckled.  At least I'm warmer here under the covers...in my coat.  I get off the lift and slip over to my first run:  Sucker Punch.  They say it's an easy run if you don't think too hard about it - just use your split-second instincts.  Right, don't think.  Here we go.

I push off feeling the cold breeze on my rosy red cheeks.  The rush of weaving in and out of trees, people, and more trees is exhilarating.  I really start to pick up speed.  I see a jump up ahead...  Hmmm...I don't think....  Wait, exactly, don't think.  Just go!  I reach the bottom of the jump, swoop upward, and lift off!  Flying high into the air in slow motion.  I feel snow flakes tap my face.  

*smack*

Ughhh, my face.  Ahh...Sucker Punch...I get it now...  I flip myself over, onto my back.  I have sopping wet white snow all over my hair and my face, in my mouth, and in my...

*whop*

Towel again tossed at my cocooned body.  All I can do is shiver and breathe and cry wrapped up in my red, lace-trimmed comforter.
"Clean yourself up.  Your mother is home.
...Remember our deal.  See you again tonight." 

Right, our deal.  I'll never forget our deal.  And what a deal it is:
I lie here, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
I clean up, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
I keep quiet, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
I feign innocence, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
I lie here, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
Sweet dreams are made of...me.

168.365 all the words in my mouth, #474 in explore !
by ashley rose
Flickr
Dinner.  Steak.

This is hell.

This is insane.

I'm bound, gagged, and in shackles...

How can mom not see this?

This agony has got to stop.

This nightmare ends here.

This time is the last time.

Hell is for sleazy scum like him; not for children.

If mom won't help me, I'll help myself.
I slip one of her precious steak knives into my pocket as I finish cleaning the dishes and prepare to return to my tainted bed.

I immediately tuck the knife under my pillow, inside the pillow case.
Opening the Door
by twenty_questions
Flickr


*knock*knock*

My door creaks open.
"Go away," I say, face in pillow, knife handle clenched.
"Just a kiss goodnight."
"Go away."
"Just a kiss goodnight, I said."
"Fine."

These goodnight kisses take longer and longer each night.

*click*

Darkness.  I know it too well.  Time for that kiss.

Tikka Powder
by Amit Rosner
cplaces.wordpress.com
I walk down the alleys of the cramped market standing out like a rose in full bloom wearing my brilliantly red saree.  There is excitement buzzing through the crowd.  "Color, color, color, color" is all I hear.  Is it Holi?  Oh how I would love to celebrate the Festival of Colors with the Indians!  People are buying handfuls of pigments from giant anthills of color!  I want some red.  "Who has red?  Who has red?!"  A woman tugs on my saree and pulls me to a shop.  I look at a mound of red in front of me.  I look at the woman and say, "Now that's what I call red!  Thank you!"  She gives a laugh and moves on.  "Four handfuls, please."

I walk out of the crowded market with my bags of red to a more open area.  Awww, it's so cloudy for such a happy day!  Our colors will brighten it up.  All this color will make the sun want to poke his way through those clouds and see what we're doing down here.  More and more locals begin to fill the area around me, each one of them holding some color.  I holler to the man next to me, "When should I do it?"  He looks back at me with a serene look on his face saying, "Now, my dear!"  He clenches his eyes closed and releases his dust in ecstasy.  Color color everywhere!
Color...
Color...
Red
Red...
Red......
It's all red...?
Oh how I love red!

I'm covered!  Covered in red red red!  It's in my hair, on my face, in my mouth, and in my...

*boom*crash*bang* 

The downpour begins.  I knew the sun would want to see, but what a messy way to clear the clouds!  Instantly, our pigment drenched faces turn deep, rich shades, staining each fibre it touches.  The red drips from my body.  It drips through my hair, down my neck and face, into my mouth, along my back, and into my...

*drip*drip*drip*

Dripping Wet
by
mlibrarianus
Flickr
"The deal's off," I choke out.  "I'm not going to breathe for you any more."
He howls and frantically pulls out the knife I, only moments ago, gently placed in my neck during his blind euphoria.
Only a few more

*drip*drip*drip*'s

and sweet dreams are here to stay.


Music to my ears.

*drip*drip*drip*

Sing me to sleep...
Sing me to sleep...
I don't want to wake up...
Sweet dreams.



Inspired by:
Sucker Punch
"Asleep" by Emily Browning from Sucker Punch
"Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)" by Emily Browning from Sucker Punch (originally by Eurythmics)
"Hell is for Children" and "Suffer The Little Children" by Pat Benatar
"This Time" by Céline Dion
"The Dark I Know Well" from Spring Awakening
Life
Others' Lives

Those of you on Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Why free-verse poetry?

You may have asked yourself, "Why does Jason write so much in a free-verse poetic style?"  The answer is the word "free."  I write full-fledged papers and essays for school...not for fun and definitely not for blogs...not when I'm free to write whatever I want, how I want it.

It's nice to not be forced to fully explain my thoughts in ways coherent to people other than me.  Free-verse leaves at least some of the interpretation up to the reader.  It leaves a pinch of mystery.  It's a conversation starter.  "So what did you mean when you said..."

So again, "Why does Jason write so much in a free-verse poetic style?"  Why not rhyming poetry?  Or just rambling paragraphs?  I don't really know.  Well, I actually borderline hate rhyming, so I know the answer to that one, but the rambling paragraphs?  I think the formatting and structure of a poem can say as much as the poem's words.  Rambling paragraphs are just that - rambling paragraphs with no structure, no meaning in the layout, no attention to detail, no suggestions for how the piece ought to be read.  Solution: free-verse poetry.  Maybe I should have written this more like a poem...

The end.

Jason 

Those of you on Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Mono Lessons (Part IX: 166-186)

You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll thank God you don't have mono.



166. The maximum amount of actually funny gay jokes has been reached.

167. Zombies are to Lindsey as Aliens are to me.

168. Allie can fit the rim of a midget Denny’s water glass in her mouth. Video proof has been captured.

169. Gay PDA in Utah is a personal safety risk.

170. An unusually large number of people are mistakenly told they have an enlarged heart.

171. Haiku is much better when in Zombie form.

172. It’s so much easier to date other Mormons.

173. Some people say to “live every week like it’s ‘Shark Week.’” I prefer to “live every week like it’s ‘Armageddon Week.”

174. I miss photography.

175. “I’ve learned how to cry and I’m better for that.” (from “Many the Miles” by Sara Bareilles)

176. Certain people are truly in the wrong line of work.

177. UTemps is my baby.

178. Hope.

179. The best medicine is laughing until it hurts. Then laughing until the hurt hurts. Then laughing until you are on the brink of crying because of the pain. Haha.

180. Arvilla is a name. A woman’s name. And she’s the best Denny’s server ever.

181. Grief and mourning is necessary for my survival, sanity, and peace of mind.

182. I have immense anger and resentment towards him for what has happened.

183. Freedom can be bittersweet.

184. Caffeine does a number on my entire body.

185. One Diet Coke can induce:
a. Heart arrhythmia
b. Hyperactivity
c. Attention deficit
d. Freezing cold hands – blood vessel constriction
e. Jitteriness
f. Racing thoughts
g. Increased heart rate
h. Anxiety associated with the heart arrhythmia
186. Never have caffeine again.

Jason

Those of you on 
Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.



              

Friday, January 8, 2010

Bum

As of 5:00pm on January 8, 2010, I am now officially an
unemployed college bum.

Jason

Those of you on
Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.