acererak

100DaysToOffload

59/100

Lines listlessly bleed from a pencil Cold gray eyes pull and scan Those brilliant fields That one burnt tree Those children playing on a picnic blanket Cirrocumulus clouds stretch into the horizon It smells like honey, dirt and sun The toppings of Spring The paper imbues these hues Though not perfectly nothing captures this moment perfectly Even now its changing An airplane breaks high overhead A cars door slams in the distance Everything changes No matter how fast Im sketching


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Day 56

it's normal ya know

to just remember pieces

longer time goes on the more shrapnel seems to fall out bad moments smoothed away old hatred gone, removed, re-invested

that life can only be savored in memories is such a joke that over time the tree is rot and barren

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Day 54

In a matter that i've mostly just forgotten I think the very best thing to be done is just what was written in hasty scripted lines against the walls of this room and that's to say that it's insane but that's why it's fun.

if life were like a vision we'd be blind to the true one

so the lines we write are crossed and thick and don't accurately represent what our minds expect that is why such logic feels slow that just as it leaves our fingertips the memory has flowed the subject shriveled the next thought has grown it's why we watch movies not caring for the tones

why we sit watching rain fall not caring if we are wet we want to experience now.. and now is just passing you by while your not paying attention to the frames moving to the actors speaking to the words on the wall screaming

you have never really felt the sun

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Day 53

I started to notice, the change... the moment sharply shift perceptively slowing down I knew I was in the shit

sweat on my brow brimmed as I recalled the news report

I had gotten the disease that turns the clock slower while my perception speeds up

So I started writing this the blog post id always dreamed as crystal clear prose flowed wildly like fish swimming down a stream

in my head the words moved in quick, vicious succession until they were screaming at my muscles to increase their iterations they demanded that I move quicker as I felt them lose their pace I felt each muscle tensing unable to keep its pace

through eyes that tried in vain to move away from the monitor screen i saw for a brief moment, my family rushing to me – moving much to slow


I really wanted to flush out the idea for this poem some more. Something like the movie Crank but just in terms of the perception of time.

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Day 52

in each moment thoughts do swell pushing – pressing prose behind thin veils. grows

until at last we force ourselves; a moments ponder

this precocious dream born from so little that its birth was unforeseen.

how is life in a way different than any thought we have throughout the day

the passion the pain?

that tiny spirit from deep within that drove itself ever forward

until that thought is all we feel all we see over visions of green days or black chalky skies or old memories

it's the thoughts we see when we close our eyes thoughts born from that unforeseen given life – deliberate rushed

relieved


Been reading more work by Albert Camus and found this quote: In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer. – its always nice when you find something you remember hearing and FINALLY have a person to attribute it to.

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Day 51

at five years old she saw the world as it really is

gasping... she relented

as quickly as it had started the scene relented

but then

in the darkness of her bedroom she tried again she urged the power

again the world was stripped laid bare to her eyes

in this moment she saw everything as it really was

streams of moonlight shown on the walls like silver honey pouring down walls in variegated grey hues the mirror beside her bed glowed with yellow electricity seeming to beckon her the carpet, she noticed, had grown into lush boysenberry colored grass while the post of her bed had become trunks of young trees, with tan leaves

she marveled at this her breathe raced yet she stayed very still

the ceiling was ablaze with swirling clouds white as a snow cap a churning cauldron of mist lazily wafting into the moonlight walls

she stared for a long time into this world tomorrow she thought, stopping her power tomorrow we will have an adventure


Went on a walk this morning with a friend I hadnt seen since last March. Had a great time catching up and walking by a group of deer. The lakes I saw were partially covered in ice and I really wanted to dip a toe in. Its pretty amazing getting a chance to leave the house, relax and enjoy nature.

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day 50

leaves frozen held tight to the muddy Earth

snow is falling

frost shimmers in spider webs across the windshield

white clouds blur across the sky

the sidewalks barren with the exception of one cat walking briskly

outside snow is falling


Its been a busy few days so im trying to remember that part of the 100 days to write means taking the time to write. I have been writing but mostly in the form of rpg encounters or the one off tweets. So im going to attempt to write a little more here more often and we'll see how that goes.

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Day 49

I watched a sunset

So did you

sometimes I doubt you ever knew that as you stole the moment I took a piece of that too

Through life's endless contests the validation the invalidation constant scoring I endured

Listening to my work stolen reformed retaken then spewed back anew

when last the moment is cold

I remember the sunset


I've been working hard this week at waking up at 7am. Hopefully I can get that down to 6am, but currently stopping myself from going to be before 11 most nights is a pipe dream. Honestly wish I could remember just how I was able to get in bed at 10pm when I was a teen (years.... ago). I mean, I would rush home before my 9pm curfew, write, get high and plan my next day in the course of an hour. Not sure what happened to those skills, but im blaming the night cap.

Also I paid the 50 dollars for a medium membership ( I didnt research them much but im hoping they aren't evil) and have been digesting so much click bait.

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Day 48

All stars shine brightly They illuminate the black void defy the never ending deep with no regard

They repel. They brightly stand against the dark Which I see at night

Thousands Millions of glittering souls reaching out to me

Im reminded What it means.. What it means to

Exist

here and Now

when your only comforts are dots envied from afar


Had a writing prompt a few years back that I had started. Since it wasn't doing anyone any good. I rewrote it into a poem! Take that endless writing prompts i've left lying around.

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Day 47

When I was a boy my alarm clock was a watch that played a rooster crow at 5:30 in the morning

Id always wake up groggily make my way to the window watching the sunlight break through

the clouds would always be grey the world would be asleep id watch each blade of grass watch the world take on color

it was meaningful


Watched “soul” this week. Kinda puts a lot of living into perspective. Sometimes it's not all about politics, pandemics or all the static around daily life. Sometimes its remembering that sitting down and appreciating just being here. It's not a bad thing.

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