Damn when am I gonna smarten up and stop falling for girls that are just gonna hurt me? My guess is never. Long night of playing pool and pitchers at the O-Mist last night. Dan and I ended up being the only people in there after about an hour, but I was down in the dumps and the bartenders there love us so we stayed. I'll be starting a new job in mid May doing security at Paddy's, a beach bar here in Westerly, and that should be a good change of pace. IDK most of the time I feel like I'm never going to have a real job and that doesn't really bother me. I think a simpler life is the way to go and be happier, but damn I could use a new car hahaha. I've been writing alot and I feel like I've started to move toward finding my voice and perhaps a story that I will be proud of calling my own. I'll post an excerpt of what I've been doing. I think there might be some waves this week, which is the best way to get me to stop thiniking about girls lol, so lets hope that happens.
"Waiting on an Angel, In an All Too Beautiful World"
A short story and what I've posted is out of context. And I apologize for any grammatical/spelling errors
"...Sometimes his walks would take hold of him and he would be alone with his thoughts as the sun would set. A picture perfect display of beauty nightly. Something that was impermanant and always changing. And as the sun kissed the ocean he would turn his back on that picture knowing that it would be there for him everyday on..."
"...He wasn't an innocent. He would buy music. As much as he could. He wanted beauty in his life. He would read too. Often till his eyes were heavy with sleep. And he would dream. And it was beautiful. Worlds where the sky was a sunset. Where the oceans were a blue yet to be captured by any eye but his own. And sweet melodies played and danced around his ears. He would wake with the tune on his lips and whistle the songs of an unequated beauty. The songs of a far away land nestled in his subconscious where beauty was abundant and never fleeting..."
"...He would often wish people were better at recognizing beauty in themselves and others. He would sit in restaurants or bars and see women slathered in makeup that marred their natural beauty. He would hear stories about women and men who would have surgery to make themselves beautiful and young.But he knew people were not permanant. They aged and became worn with time. Walking testaments to life's joys and sorrows. But now people lacked grace and would age no more and they would be walking testaments of only joy. No one wore their sorrow like a smile..."
"...He was no different. In the pursuit of a life full of beauty he had been heartbroken more than once. There was something about falling to slumber in the arms of another that gave him great security. And when he woke to see the face of an angel next to his own he would lay and gaze upon her, letting the wonderous dreamland drift back into his mind. Those mornings he would lay in bed careless for the world outside because he could hold beauty in his arms. But people are not permanant and pretty women come and go like the tide. Even though he had that philosophy he could not help but be saddened during his time spent waiting on an angel..."
"...Life was too short and he felt he was born into a time where the goodness of people was failing and this made his heartache for children who would have to contend with the same problems that he and his parents did. Social injustices that had plagued the world for as long as it had been. There had been dreamers once. People who could close their eyes and envision a peaceful world where hate was lost and something archaic and unimaginable. But the dreamers had died and in their place were people who feigned interest in this idea of a peaceful world but lacked the passion to pursue the ideals of those who had fallen before them. He knew that peace was an idea. A good idea but just that, an idea. It is a concept, a beautiful concept that he could lose himself in, that is imaginable but untouchable. There is too much hate in the hearts of men and women to be able to turn away from..."
"Waiting on an Angel, In an All Too Beautiful World"
A short story and what I've posted is out of context. And I apologize for any grammatical/spelling errors
"...Sometimes his walks would take hold of him and he would be alone with his thoughts as the sun would set. A picture perfect display of beauty nightly. Something that was impermanant and always changing. And as the sun kissed the ocean he would turn his back on that picture knowing that it would be there for him everyday on..."
"...He wasn't an innocent. He would buy music. As much as he could. He wanted beauty in his life. He would read too. Often till his eyes were heavy with sleep. And he would dream. And it was beautiful. Worlds where the sky was a sunset. Where the oceans were a blue yet to be captured by any eye but his own. And sweet melodies played and danced around his ears. He would wake with the tune on his lips and whistle the songs of an unequated beauty. The songs of a far away land nestled in his subconscious where beauty was abundant and never fleeting..."
"...He would often wish people were better at recognizing beauty in themselves and others. He would sit in restaurants or bars and see women slathered in makeup that marred their natural beauty. He would hear stories about women and men who would have surgery to make themselves beautiful and young.But he knew people were not permanant. They aged and became worn with time. Walking testaments to life's joys and sorrows. But now people lacked grace and would age no more and they would be walking testaments of only joy. No one wore their sorrow like a smile..."
"...He was no different. In the pursuit of a life full of beauty he had been heartbroken more than once. There was something about falling to slumber in the arms of another that gave him great security. And when he woke to see the face of an angel next to his own he would lay and gaze upon her, letting the wonderous dreamland drift back into his mind. Those mornings he would lay in bed careless for the world outside because he could hold beauty in his arms. But people are not permanant and pretty women come and go like the tide. Even though he had that philosophy he could not help but be saddened during his time spent waiting on an angel..."
"...Life was too short and he felt he was born into a time where the goodness of people was failing and this made his heartache for children who would have to contend with the same problems that he and his parents did. Social injustices that had plagued the world for as long as it had been. There had been dreamers once. People who could close their eyes and envision a peaceful world where hate was lost and something archaic and unimaginable. But the dreamers had died and in their place were people who feigned interest in this idea of a peaceful world but lacked the passion to pursue the ideals of those who had fallen before them. He knew that peace was an idea. A good idea but just that, an idea. It is a concept, a beautiful concept that he could lose himself in, that is imaginable but untouchable. There is too much hate in the hearts of men and women to be able to turn away from..."
rizzo:
yay paddy's! I always try to make it out there a few times during the summer.