| pet humans |
[Dec. 28th, 2007|05:50 pm]
bettering the world of lj... one comment at a time
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| [ | mood |
| |  hungry | ] |
The Inspiration:
is it justifiable to call somebody a pet human if you are repeatedly asked to fill their water bottle?
The Anarch:
I had to put my pet human, Sasha, down the other day. It was a very sad day for my entire family, particularly my little brother, Leo, who had grown quite attached to her. He loved scratching behind her ears and giving her baths, which my mom thought was pretty inappropriate but eased up when he said that all the other kids get to bathe their pet humans. I didn't think she'd fall for that one but she's been pretty distracted ever since my dad was mysteriously gnawed to pieces. |
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| whew |
[Dec. 28th, 2007|05:37 pm]
bettering the world of lj... one comment at a time
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| [ | mood |
| |  chipper | ] |
So I've been away for a long time. Pretty much everyone here has. But  exrandu and I discussed this and decided the slow death of this community would be a bad thing. Then we reminisced about it's conception and now I'm back, trying to anarch. I used to be bohemeg, if anyone remembers me, please add me.
So here's the anarch.
Inspiration:
so.
i like this guy.
Anarch:
It's too bad that he's a cannibal. I mean, there's a lot of things that I can overlook when it comes to dating - unibrow, has a cat, obsession with televangelists. I've dated some pretty strange ones. But it's pretty hard to say yes when he invites me to dinner, for fear that I might actually be dinner. Maybe we'll stick to restaurants until I clearly illustrate my no snacking on me policy. |
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| first anarchy post in almost a year! but i have confidence... |
[Oct. 3rd, 2007|01:20 am]
bettering the world of lj... one comment at a time
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| [ | music |
| | Caspian Can Wait - The Velvet Teen | ] |
| [ | mood |
| | predatory | ] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | on the big rock candy mount ain | ] |
wow, this community is just a little bit dead. but it's such an awesome idea, i'm going to see if i can get all my friends to join. at least, all the right friends. hi everyone, by the way. i'm jinx, nice to meet you. here's my first comment.
THE ENTRY:
I want to be everything for him.
LIQUID ANARCHY:
and maybe once we climb that brick wall and see what's on the other side, we'll realize that it's all just part of the plan. of course you're supposed to feel like this. it's like taking a slow bite of a mango, or feeling a warm wind on your eyelids, or standing in the rain and knowing that it means life to so many. suddenly there's so much more to life than love, and somehow that makes love look very small and fragile and perfectly imperfect and so very important that you don't even want to breathe for fear of blowing it away. |
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| Run-on sentence |
[Oct. 14th, 2006|09:55 pm]
bettering the world of lj... one comment at a time
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THE ENTRY
My life is just one big run-on sentence in the essay of life.
THE ANARCH
Don't ask me what came before, before, before--I mean, I imagine my parents fucked at one point, and that their respective origins were their own parents who must have fucked at least once no matter how strictly religious they were, and back and back and back with everyone fucking at a certain point and producing offspring who fucked with other offspring forward and forward and forward until you got to my parents, who fucked, which I don't remember (despite being a part of both of them, one egg and one of a million racing sperm all vying for the prize), nor can I recall anything up until what I imagine was a few weeks before birth--why yes, I DO remember the womb, mostly the warm floating of it all, plus Mother's steady heartbeat, but most of all the LOVE, who can forget the LOVE of her?--and then sometime after it, for as hard as I try, I cannot remember being born, which is probably a good thing all things considered, because I hear it was wet, wet and messy, and gross, and I still refuse to watch that video which Father made when (well, during) I was born, even though my parents play it every year on my birthday; I hide in my room because I don't want to know what my birth looked like, but I can't help listening, hearing the screams and Mother's sailor-curses and Dad's feeble words of encouragements, because somewhere, deep deep down, I feel like I can remember those sounds, the first sounds I heard upon entering the world, Mother swearing hurricanes and Dad too excited to shut her up, but it never goes beyond that faint feeling of deja-vu, which is more the pity, because sometimes, deep down inside, I really WISH I remembered being born, because it would certainly connect those later months floating in the womb to the years and years that followed, from sitting like a king in the high chairs at din-din when Mother slaved to feed me, to those first great Neil Armstrong steps, to being mauled a thousand times by my first and second bicycles, and the girl in first grade who finally taught me, between games of Doctor, how to ride without training wheels, and all the years that followed, the ones where I hated girls and the ones where I didn't--indeed, the ones where girls hated ME, but I tried to convince them to love me, oh God did I try, but here I am, nineteen and still in love but unloved, and what have I to show for it, tell me that, oh won't you tell me that? |
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| Something from that guy that everyone has forgotten |
[Aug. 23rd, 2006|04:18 pm]
bettering the world of lj... one comment at a time
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From, well, a rather dead journal, not Deadjournal though.
(Image) :Picture of a cow eating grass, greyed out. Black text that states "Images are for loosers.":
(Post)"Once Divided, Nothing's Left to Subtract. (Me:Period added, bad capitalization kept to convey THE PAIN this WONDERBREAD person must have experienced)
The End... (Me:I corrected the ellipses, one too many)
(?) " (Note: Not maintaining the "dramatic" sizing and spacing BS. Too Fucking Emo.)
(Comments that accompany the post. Added just because I wanted to)
1. You killed yourself? (Corrected to follow a basic rule of English)
2 & 3. (Reply from a suspended user)
4. You are actually the coolest person ever. Your posts amused me and my friend to no end.
♥ (Me: Blech... ugh... disgusting.)
Now, for the finale!
100/5 - 5 = 15 |
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| Rise Again |
[Aug. 18th, 2006|12:58 pm]
bettering the world of lj... one comment at a time
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Inspiration:
"*bounce* *bounce* *bounce*"
Culmination:
That fearful shape was gargantuan from my current perspective, a titan's fist descending swiftly upon me. I could only watch, wide-eyed, as it fell, as it struck. My whole body shook with the impact, and my eyes rolled momentarily to the back of my head...but only long enough to distract me, not nearly long enough to knock me into blessed unconciousness.
It struck me again, the monstrous creation, over and over, always in the same general location upon my forehead. The feeling of its cool texture, like wet rubber perhaps, would spread as the shockwaves spread through me. Just as the pain would fade, it would strike again. That delay was the most tormenting part. Hours, days, how long had I been here? I, a modern Prometheus now, chained to his slab and struck repeatedly by that viscios eagle. I watched it rise, fall, strike, rise again. I could not rise.
Who would enact such torture? To restrain a body so perfectly, to do the math necessary for this. Why such an inane act? Did they mean to drive me mad? Perhaps I already was. What other explanation was there for my current state.
Utterly restrained, and watching the viscious red rubber ball strike me again and again. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 30th, 2006|10:03 pm]
bettering the world of lj... one comment at a time
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The Post:
i guess i'm really saturated in depression.
bugs won't stop eating my body.
i'm not wearing any pants.
i'm too scared to pick up the phone.
can't write, don't want to.
stop itching.
eats a lot.
i'm frustrated and really pissed off at time, you know? things don't ever work out because i'm always in the wrong place and i live too deep inside my head to deal with the reality of it all.
the other day my brother asked my mom why 'time machines' wasn't in the yellow pages. he was dead assed but i guess i would be too if i had to ask.
The Anarch:
The weather was warm and the air was stagnant. The sun was setting, and a smattering of stars were already visible against the darkening sky. We were in foreign territory; we usually didn't travel this far, but the Culex tarsalis in the lead--most just called him Frank--had promised us that the trip would be worth it.
The trip was tiring; I was sore, and thinking longingly of my home back at the farm. There was plenty of food there, and it was easy to find. Perhaps not the tastiest, but it had the necessities. I hadn't been in favor of this journey, and ergo was feeling pessimistic about the whole venture, wanting to find something to make this trip worth it, but also wishing us failure so that I might have the pleasure of saying, "I told you so." I sighed, exasperatedly, and loudly enough so that the others might hear me. But no sooner had I finished my breath than Frank made a sudden dive.
We were among houses, now. As a group, we swooped down, into a backyard. But there was nothing here save a single human.
A human? We traveled this far to dine on merely a human? A dull, annoyed rage began to build up in my tiny frame. Preposterous! A complete waste of time! I had half a mind to just eat Frank.
The human was alone, hands folded on its lap, a small frown etched across its face. Then I noticed the small bumps covering its skin. We weren't the first to find it, apparently; this thing was a walking feast!
Famished from the journey, I butted to the lead of the group and settled down on the humans arm, piercing its skin and taking a long pull of sweet nourishment.
And suddenly, I realized why Frank had led us here. This thing... it was delicious!
I gave Frank a nod, a mixture of apology and gratitude. "When we get back," I hissed at him, in between deep gulps, "we're telling everyone else about this one."
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| 5 things |
[Jul. 24th, 2006|12:12 pm]
bettering the world of lj... one comment at a time
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THE ENTRY:
Name 5 things you've done which nobody believes and 5 things you've never done which nobody believes.
THE ANARCH:
Five Things I've Done
1. Left a bag of flaming poop on Pope Leo X's doorstep (But the old boy wouldn't touch it. He made the Swiss Guards stamp it out. I was watching from behind a pillar and Leo caught my eye. He winked, and we both giggled madly at what happened next. You should've seen the poor sod's boots)
2. Gone questing for treasure with my great-great-grandson (I thought there was still time to make a man out of him. But his last words were a girlish scream right before the bulls trampled him. Gave his mother the gold we found, but kept the rubies)
3. Shook hands with Ernest Hemingway (I don't care how manly they say he was; his was a limp little grasp that made you wonder if his stories were compensating for something)
4. Played billiards with Benjamin Disraeli (You know, Benjamin Disraeli! Ol' Ben Dizzy? C'mon, you can't say you've never heard of him. Geez, kids these days)
5. Robbed a train (The things I do for girls...)
Five Things I've Not Done
1. Gone to the moon (Do you really believe NASA? Honestly!)
2. Swam with dolphins (Those buggers are just as intelligent as the Discovery Channel claims. They won't come near me. I wonder who's been telling them things...)
3. Made snow angels (I know, I know, crazy, ain't it? Well, you try liking snow after growing up in Africa. That's some weird shit, man. Frozen water from the sky? I ain't going near that stuff!)
4. Fought in the Battle of Hastings (Damn, I wish. But Ma said I was too young, and you can't disobey your mother. What? I was a good kid, I was!)
5. Two women at the same time. |
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| Get along |
[Jul. 22nd, 2006|11:29 pm]
bettering the world of lj... one comment at a time
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Well, well, well...it's only been what, three and a half months since my last one? And roughly three months since anyone's last one? Kudos to vavaverity for doing one. As for the rest of you--no kudos. Looks like it's up to me to do something.
The Inspiration:
So many different worlds in one city, you think poeple would learn to get along better. Then again, what do I know? Thats asking for too much.
My Reply:
The ground rises up to meet me, and if I could still breathe by now the great smack of my body hitting the earth would surely drive all air from my chest, and the dust that rises from the impact would surely choke what air I drew back in. If I could still breathe by now. But no, the great bull has pierced my chest and torn my lungs, and it is less painful to not breathe than it is to suck for air. What is the use? Even if the bull missed my heart, which is still whole and strong (I hope they will give it to Maria when I am dead), my blood cannot flow without air. So I am dying.
And the great bull sees that I have lost, and it--no, He--paws the earth, proud in His victory. I am glad that He has honored me with a clean death. Mama would cry if my body were trampled.
I can see Papa standing over me, tears in his eyes, a look upon his face. I do not know his look. Have I shamed him? Is he angry? I cannot tell. But Papa, remember what it was you said when you used to enter the rimg. Remember, you said "If there is a bull that can kill me, you will let it go free." A bull never killed you, Papa, but remember those words. You said them, but I, too, make them mine.
Perhaps he hears me, or perhaps he only understands, but Papa bends down and, for the second time, he kisses me on the lips, the way a proud father should kiss his oldest son. But the only kiss I can think about is Maria's, the one she gave me, last night, the night before, this, my first--and final--bullfight, only moments before she left me.
But Maria, oh, how could you not see? The son of a matador and the daughter of animal rights acitvists can love each other. You see what I have done? I let the bull win. It will go free now.
Perhaps now you will love me the way you could not before.
Afterword:
Not sure how well it fits, but what the hell. First one in a while. Also, the comment's been screened, unfortuntately, so my work is for nothing. Ah well. I'll try again elsewhere tomorrow. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 21st, 2006|04:48 pm]
bettering the world of lj... one comment at a time
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The Inspiration
well
This is now my second journal here. Hopefully I'll find some people through this
The Anarch
"Hello? Hello? Can anybody hear me?"
She stood on stage with the bright white light shining on her face, as the microphone squelched its feedback. The crowd continued amongst themselves, unaware of her presence.
"HELLO?!", she demanded. "I said, Can anybody HEAR me?"
"HELLO?!!!!!!"
Her cry louder and louder and booming through the auditorium.
"What the hell is wrong with you people?", she shrieked.
The crowd paused, all at once, and slowly turned to look at her as they faded to black. |
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