#aimless writing

[mrdaytona]

i hope this finds you well

[hellotherealvishal]

A last peg and writing musing

A last peg and writing musing

There are days when I open the WordPress post and stare at the blank screen, wondering what to write. There are so many ideas germinating and getting lost as I start penning about them. Happily playing the waiting game. Writing shouldn’t be forced and it feels like alcohol playing havoc to the mind, spurting like the gin I am having right now. Spot on! I’m having a gin after a year plus today…

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[missmenow]

An Unforgettable Dream

You and I,

raiding the streets at night;

whistling an unknown tune

to the breeze passing by.

Screaming out in delight,

words snatched upon sight, 

our howls filtering slowly through the ink-black night.

And so we scaled tall mountains,

put up a big fight

though we knew our stories would be lost over time.

But to just you and I,

it’s unforgettable, our last crime.

------

Written by me and dedicated to the closest of my friends who serve as inspirations, guides and finding new ways to land in crazy situations.

[thewritingchameleon]

A lot of people tell me how strong I am. I don't really understand. My wife's tried to tell me, explain the meaning in a way that doesn't pass over my head. But, I can't get it. All I feel is tired.

[thewritingchameleon]

I am tired

Of my place Of my pain Of my surroundings Of my unemployment

I want to leave like I used to See the world with warmth like I did

All I see is exhaustion In every movement, thought, and word I don’t want to move I don’t want to think I don’t want to speak

I want to sleep

[a-confused-introvert]

but you know, I`ll try to have a good time, do my best not spoil the experience for other people.

I`ll do my best not to be a party pooper. Hopefully there`ll be a lot of fun activities we can take part in and that will be the focus of our conversations. “Oh you should have seen the look on your face!” “When you zagged, that was the time you should have zigged!”

Something kind of like that.

Now excuse me, I have to go put on the old armor, the one with the automatic smile function. God knows I`ll need it to show people I`m a cheerful bright young lad and not a denizen of the dark.

[decentaim-a-blog]

“Why do you always stay so high up?”

For a question asked so many times, the answer was too obvious. Whenever asked, Clint always shrugged and gave an offhand joke about perching like a bird of prey, playing dumb until the curiosity passed. A part of him did like heights solely for the bird’s eye view. There was nothing that’d top a Sunday sunset in Manhattan where the city lights would get brighter, the traffic would slow down, the sky would blur into oranges and pinks. There was nothing like the intricacy of the city blocks, merging together into one sprawling, vast sea of concrete for miles around him. There was nothing like the breeze when he’d find himself up on the rooftop, alone and late at night — but he wasn’t truly alone. No one’s ever alone in a city that never sleeps.

In the heat of battle, there’s no time for gawking around. Even so, Clint was often stationed on the rooftops of office blocks or the balcony of some glossy skyscraper, whether it was under command or out of his own doing. There were dangers, sure, he knew that more than anyone who’d chastise him or remind him to be careful. He could fall. He could be knocked off his own feet. The building could simply collapse under him at any given second, taking him down with the tirades of rubble. He knew all of that. He went through that.

The tactical reasons always won out. He made a list once, when he was stuck in medical after an unexpected explosion took out the apartment block underneath him. It made him feel better to scribble down the reasons why he did the things he did, even when both his legs were wrapped up in plaster for weeks. Made him feel justified, even.

‘REASONS TO SAY TO PHIL WHEN HE WILL YELL AT ME

I can see further away. Target had no chanse of hiding

Can jump on target - elument element of surprise

When I shoot the ➹ moves down faster

want to try out new grappling ➹ if I fall

Faster to Run round on roofs than on the street’

From that day on, now and then, he’d scrawl a few more items to that list. There were photos that he’d fold the paper up with too, mostly shoddily taken Polaroids of cityscapes he’d visit during faraway missions. No one has ever seen them. It was just easier to joke that hawks like to perch.

[decentaim-a-blog]

Clint never liked Christmas. Okay, that’s a lie. Christmas does have its perks: the festive cheeriness, the bright lights strung over the streets of New York, the flurry of deals on hot chocolate and cosy knitwear. Although, then again, he could get woolly sweaters and ridiculously thick scarves at any time of the year. As for hot chocolate, he could make that anytime he wanted it. To an okay standard, anyway.  The Christmas spirit was sapped out of him a long time ago. It’s funny, kinda. When he was a kid, he was always hopeful for a good Christmas every year, even when Barney would scoff at the thought of gingerbread houses and Christmas trees. “Not for families like us,” he’d tell Clint, and he turned out to be right every damn time. Their family was never good at Christmas spirit.  Ironically enough, it got a little better when Clint grew up. They always say that kids grow out of Christmas by the time they’re in their teens; Clint gradually grew into it, even past his hellish teen years. Call him stupid, call him naive, but he still hoped for a good Christmas every time the year was drawing to a close - even if he had even less people to celebrate it with now. At least he had a dog who was content to sit and watch him set up a miniature Christmas tree by the window. It was so small that he could barely wrap a full string of fairy lights on it but he did it anyway, even stuck a few baubles he bought from the dollar store. It was a good feeling, he couldn’t lie. He even felt proud when he stood back and watched the lights glow and flicker around the little, crappy Christmas tree. His crappy Christmas tree. Clint always liked Christmas.