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Category Archives: Inspiration Monday

Inspiration Monday: Playground Battles

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In battle, there are two kinds of people. The strong fighter in the front and his weaker counterpart slightly behind. This is the expected stance because the fighter will protect his brethren; the weaker one is then free from the possibility of danger.

Yet on the playground this fact of life was meant to be void. Only it never is; we are always fighting. We fight against our enemies, we fight amongst ourselves. Some people even fight themselves.

I’ve been fighting since I was seven. How about you? The thing is, some people can pretend they’re not fighting. They look like all they have is allies. I wonder if life is really that easy for them? The ones who stand on the front lines seem to have it the best. They fight hard and out in the open, but keep the same allies for the longest.

I prefer to stay in the back when the fighting starts. Skirting forward as time goes on, you can even win the battle. I’ve actually won against a front line fighter  once like that. I guess…fortune just favors the coward, huh?

This post was an Inspiration Monday post on the prompt “fortune favored the coward“. It’s an old prompt but I guess I needed another kick because it was inspired by the anime My Teen Romantic Comedy SNAFU.


Speechcraft [Inspiration Monday]

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So, this is really old. But, you might have gathered I’ve been suffering a little writer’s block/procrastination lately. Anyhow, here it is. Let me know what you think in the comments:

Microphone head

Microphone head (Photo credit: sparetomato)

You’ve heard of witchcraft right? That weird thing people do with the spirits that can make people do strange things? Yeah, that thing. I think I’ve discovered another form of it: it’s called ‘speechcraft’. Stop laughing, I’m not being ridiculous. If you saw that woman you would think she was getting a little extra help too. I have never seen another person who can talk like her. She can make everyone like her, dash her opponents to the ground leaving no hard feelings and reprimand her followers to yield great results. What kind of person can do all that? It’s magic I tell you! 

Here she comes now: high heels, pin-straight hair, glowing smile. I can feel the spectators around me straighten up a little in their chairs. Is this what they have been waiting for? As soon as her name is announced a deafening roar of applause surrounds me. I join in, a little jealously, before she walks up to the front of the stage, her microphone clipped to her shirt. 

“Hello, how are you all today?”
A roar. I wince a bit, not expecting that.
She pauses, then smiles, “Me too.”
Against my will, the corner of my mouth lifts upwards.

I don’t know if it’s her glowing smile, or her graceful gestures or maybe even the earnest look in her eyes magnified on the big screen. But there’s some magic when she speaks. The very fact that she could engage a crowd, make them listen and absorb even a little bit of what she was talking about was amazing. Humans have short attention spans. Well, that is except for mindless entertainment; although, again you’re not really paying attention then either. So how in JKR’s hidden notebooks can she make something as mundane as environmental issues engaging and interesting? 

As she closed off her speech, I was compelled to clap, as I always was. My mind wandered a little now: thinking back to the speeches I made as a student and then as a professional. Those speeches were horrible in comparison. I stated facts with no interest and carried them with no humor. I did everything wrong. I was a bad speaker. Not so bad in person-in conversation at the bus stop-but during a presentation mind-numbing. I got up grudgingly and walked up to her.
“Great job. Everyone loved it. We should get going to the next place now.”
I gestured for her to go ahead and wrapped up with the event organizer. It’s bad business practice to show envy for your client.

INMON: Ailing Mind :: Really?

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Yes, I’m back. Though not as frequently 😛 Here’s this week’s attempt:

My hands shake and I can’t stop them. I don’t want to stop them either.

“It’s not my fault. Everyone’s so scary! “

Everyday is like this. Everyone’s shadows look sinister and demanding. Somehow it’s the demanding part that scares me the most.

“What do you want from me?”

I ask this question daily too. Usually I’m met with strange looks, as though I don’t know what I’m talking about. That’s the really infuriating part.

“Leave me alone!”

I need to curl up into a ball and hug my knees to my chest. Gran taught me how to do it when I was little and I’ve been doing it ever since. It’s the only thing that calms me down.

“It’s okay.”

Slowly, people pass by my forced blockade and slowly I enter my own world. Here, everything is clean. I’m alone, but it’s not scary. I can’t hurt myself after all. No one can hurt me. I’m not afraid of snipers and spies and terrorists on top of it all. It’s peaceful; like falling asleep.

“Why are you doing that?”

I’m already out of my happy place.

“It’s nice.”


Maybe we’re all the same.

INMON: I burned it all

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Well…there’s no way for this to go but DARK. Another random INMON entry!

Dear Mommy,

I know you said I couldn’t have a bike, but there was no reason for that. Daddy didn’t even listen when I asked. Daddy always wants me to ask you. He never listens to me.

Why? Why does Daddy hate me?

He always sits in his room writing. It doesn’t even make him happy-it makes him sad. But he still doesn’t want to play with me.

When the house burned down, we lost everything. My toys were gone, my bed was gone. You were gone.

I started the fire, Mommy. Because you said I couldn’t have a bike.

Back Before the Earth was Round: p2

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This is Part Two of a short story. Read part 1 here!

The breeze picked up, a trail of booze-soaked stench followed the pirate. I hid behind a small boulder on the beach and gagged. Dirty Beard’s song was long from finished but I couldn’t hear him. He was much further ahead of me now. It was for the best, he was almost at the docks. If i followed too closely his crew might see me. I looked down at the clothes I had stolen from my father. They fit badly, the sleeves reaching past the tips of my fingers. The overall effect was quite desirable however. I looked like a workman, and a poorly maintained one at that. It would be the perfect disguise for where I was going.

Breathing in slowly as I crouched behind the boulder, I pulled my hat low over my brow, just covering the tip of my vision. Slowly, I rose from my postilion and left the security of the beach to follow Dirty Beard to the docks, trying to exude the confidence of a ships’ hand.

The salt air was eroding the wooden pier which at the moment was bustling with activity. In the distance the sun was taking a last long look and the variety of people clustered in the small space. A young, but strong and weather-beaten girl helped her father bring in the last of the day’s catch-possibly their entire lively hood. There was a look in her father’s eye as they packed up to leave: a glow, like pride but much fonder.

I strode down the pier, stopping every now and then to admire the fish and speak to the sailors. All the time, I watched Dirty Beard’s long and solitary drunken hike to his ship. Even now, with the sun almost gone, I could see the deck bustling with life. I was itching to get to the ship, but the time was not yet right. Soon, soon it will be. The last dregs of fisherman were packing away their things and would soon be gone. If I didn’t get on board by then it would be all over.

Too be continued soonish!

Inspiration Monday: How to Make a Mask

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From this lovely prompt from Inspiration Monday! It’s old though, so beware 😛 I suggest you check it out if you need inspiration 😀 Also check out these awesome writer’s tips on the rest of the BeKindRewrite site.

It’s not difficult to make a mask. It just requires patience and concentration. If you start young, it’s even easier. No one will know, they will see the gleaming facade and trust that it is the real runny core, an honest person.

Of course they would be wrong. What would an honest person have to make a mask for? They would be lovable, likable, perfect by just showing themselves as who they are. It would be easy to live like that- if I was an honest person. No, life is much more difficult for the scum and demented that walk the world in droves. We have to create an intricate container for our horrifying form, and weld it shut for all eternity. Nothing touches us here in the locked coffin, and we feel safe.

You have to make a conscious effort in the beginning. Pay attention to their behavior, and say what they want to hear. Theres always the ultimate trick- a smile, often accompanied by humble body language. No one wants to feel inferior, so you make them feel large. Little do they know this feeling is all smoke and mirrors, a puppet show at best. You- the masquerader- is the one holding the strings.

Soon it becomes easier, lies spill from your lips and you feel no hurt. You see their trust and you play them, convincing them of your eternal innocence.

Then one day, if your lucky, the divide between the mask and it’s wearer blurs and joins into one, and you become the person you wanted to be from the beginning.

And if you’re not, you wont.

Back Before the Earth Was Round

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Another Inspiration Monday post via Stephanie at BeKindRewrite!
Prompt: before the earth was round.

Tap, tap, tap, click.
“What yer staring at? Want one too do yer laddie?”
The boys scattered, terror on their faces, each diving to the relative safety of their mothers arms. Their fearsome combatant was slumped across the top of the bar, bottle of rum in one hand and a time worn map in the other. If you happened to be brave enough, you would risk taking a closer look at this eyesore. If you were foolish enough, you would stare long and hard at a wooden leg poking out of the bottom of his trousers. These were several inches too short for the pirate, and he was running short on time as well. Dirty Beard rose from the bar, rum swishing away in it’s fragile packaging, and waddled to the door. It was to the seas again-he never felt right on the land. Too stable; too safe. I watched as Dirty Beard wandered out of the pub and strolled towards his ship, singing pirate songs with a tune now long lost and forgotten.

The pirate’s name was in fact Leonard Peters, but no gold-loving man of the seas would consent to be called Captain Peters or the excruciating Leo Beard. So he had settled for the less glorifying, slightly insulting title of Dirty Beard-or so legend goes. I for one had not succumbed to the treacherous legends of yesteryear nor was I satisfied with rumor. Dirty Beards’ unravelling was long over due and I planned to make it happen. It was time for the truth. I was now too old for fairytales. Slowly, I left the pub and followed him.

I could still hear Dirty Beard’s tuneless warbling in the distance; it made things easier for me. I followed the sounds of the wailing and eventually had him in my sights.
“Yo ho, Yo ho. 
Gold in sacks and stacks of gold, 
Rum and bear and caskets closed.
Fearsome beasts-
The seas so cold!
Such is the tale of pirates!”

Disclaimer: The Pirate in question is not related in any way to this Leonard Peters.

Beware…this is only part 1 of this story! I have the idea in my brain, just need to get it all out 😛 For now, enjoy.

Live, Nerd, Repeat

Making life better through the perfect application of humor and nerdery

Kurayami Monogatari

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