Did I Not Say?
"Did I not say it to be true?" The horrid voice rang out the megaphone, which stood by the corner of the snow littered city street, obscuring a billboard. A billboard advertising the holy word of very man whom spoke through the megaphone, who, at this very moment spoke these very words: "Did I not say there would be peace and then... was there not peace!" The voice degraded into a deep throated growl, it was a terrible voice and nobody was listening... they were all in a distant world, the world of music. They were all in his world, they lived there becaus
Devo
Something for Everybody Review
Chances are, dear reader, you are unaware of Devo. Or perhaps you shall know them as the "funny hat guys". They're an influential band; they pioneered the clash of electronic and rock sounds under the melting pot of pure punk energy. They were a band that, even in their early days garnered quite a lot of attention. David Bowie, Iggy Pop and Brian Eno all showed interest in producing their debut album, with Eno eventually doing so. They're influence, indeed goes mostly un
Dead with His Shoes On by WindWornWanderer, literature
Literature
Dead with His Shoes On
Dead with His Shoes On
Another day, another clean perfect day, his perfect day had started with another perfect morning. He drove down, in his car, his white car, his spotless white car. Zipping about the empty streets (he always arrived early). He zipped by the streets zapping past all those up early. Work, work, work he thought! "I've got myself some work." He said aloud, than quickly closing his mouth, he didn't want the people the hear, he didn't want them to have to think about things more than they should, lord knows what problems that would lead to. Chaos he thought awful godless chaos. Unor
Rockin' Since ?
I had always listened to my Mother, and Father and Grandmother, although, I didn't have a Grandfather, no, it's not that I never had one, it's that he died when I was young, he'd been a television presenter. All I had, as regards memories of him, was being sat in front of the television and watching old faded grainy footage, footage of him using words I don't think even exist anymore, I certainly ever heard them from him. My Gran had kept old stock footage of him, or well, she'd been given the footage. Back when he was popular, he was talk of the town, talk of the city
Television is Terrible by WindWornWanderer, literature
Literature
Television is Terrible
Television is Terrible
There she sat, again, sank in the seat, covered in a sheet. He sat there staring, she sat, staring, staring at the television. He was by the bed, by the side, pretending to look out the window, however in the corner of his eye he watched her, his wife. He reached by the curtains and opened the window, it squealed as it opened. The night was black as fresh spilt ink. A gust flew past, it was playful, it brought the curtain with it. The curtain teased his skin; it sent shivers up, down, all around. It teased him as he wished she would, but no, she was just sitting there.
S
An Examination
Day 1: Nothing is really known without observing, so, what do we really know about life? When have we ever sat down to observe life, to view it, to gain real information, to gain a real understanding of life, why it seems so obvious now, why have we never observed life? These first few questions set off the idea. It was a late, hot summer, and the world seemed at peace. Everything had become quiet, perhaps due to the time of year, with no wonders to call my own, at the end of another year, I could account for nothing but wasted time. Why, the thought of how many hours I had s
Noise
They all looked on longingly, one by one they eased into the low blue car, the headlights flickered on and shot through the short patchy wood just ahead. Two men and two women, men in front and women in back drove off. As they faded in the distance she swore she caught a white worri
Toys
"Just take the two, by the window, at the end."
He barely believed he had just heard that, he had, not just asked for one, but two, two of those terrible figures. Not only that, but, he had left them at the end, the very end, he wasn't just content with idea of going up there, no he wanted him to go to the end. He wanted him to suffer. Well, he had always been a man of extremes. If he was ever to do something, he'd get the most out of. So, seeing as he was on his way to suffer, he may as well suffer as much as possible. Spend the maximum amount of time up there. Where they r
Changes
First it came from the mountains, bounding off the great craggy valleys. And then it came to the city, which was set low, like a crater. It came fast and harsh and howling. The wind came screaming. It came telling, like a mad messenger, high and low and then high again, unsettling the sturdiest listener. It told of the horrors and the changes. The air was not right. Shooting from the crater ledge the wind flew high into the light tainted night sky. There were no clouds and no stars. Only a hazy amber abyss-like vista, man's own light robs the night sky of her precious jewels.
It
Did I Not Say?
"Did I not say it to be true?" The horrid voice rang out the megaphone, which stood by the corner of the snow littered city street, obscuring a billboard. A billboard advertising the holy word of very man whom spoke through the megaphone, who, at this very moment spoke these very words: "Did I not say there would be peace and then... was there not peace!" The voice degraded into a deep throated growl, it was a terrible voice and nobody was listening... they were all in a distant world, the world of music. They were all in his world, they lived there becaus
Devo
Something for Everybody Review
Chances are, dear reader, you are unaware of Devo. Or perhaps you shall know them as the "funny hat guys". They're an influential band; they pioneered the clash of electronic and rock sounds under the melting pot of pure punk energy. They were a band that, even in their early days garnered quite a lot of attention. David Bowie, Iggy Pop and Brian Eno all showed interest in producing their debut album, with Eno eventually doing so. They're influence, indeed goes mostly un
Dead with His Shoes On by WindWornWanderer, literature
Literature
Dead with His Shoes On
Dead with His Shoes On
Another day, another clean perfect day, his perfect day had started with another perfect morning. He drove down, in his car, his white car, his spotless white car. Zipping about the empty streets (he always arrived early). He zipped by the streets zapping past all those up early. Work, work, work he thought! "I've got myself some work." He said aloud, than quickly closing his mouth, he didn't want the people the hear, he didn't want them to have to think about things more than they should, lord knows what problems that would lead to. Chaos he thought awful godless chaos. Unor
Rockin' Since ?
I had always listened to my Mother, and Father and Grandmother, although, I didn't have a Grandfather, no, it's not that I never had one, it's that he died when I was young, he'd been a television presenter. All I had, as regards memories of him, was being sat in front of the television and watching old faded grainy footage, footage of him using words I don't think even exist anymore, I certainly ever heard them from him. My Gran had kept old stock footage of him, or well, she'd been given the footage. Back when he was popular, he was talk of the town, talk of the city
Television is Terrible by WindWornWanderer, literature
Literature
Television is Terrible
Television is Terrible
There she sat, again, sank in the seat, covered in a sheet. He sat there staring, she sat, staring, staring at the television. He was by the bed, by the side, pretending to look out the window, however in the corner of his eye he watched her, his wife. He reached by the curtains and opened the window, it squealed as it opened. The night was black as fresh spilt ink. A gust flew past, it was playful, it brought the curtain with it. The curtain teased his skin; it sent shivers up, down, all around. It teased him as he wished she would, but no, she was just sitting there.
S
An Examination
Day 1: Nothing is really known without observing, so, what do we really know about life? When have we ever sat down to observe life, to view it, to gain real information, to gain a real understanding of life, why it seems so obvious now, why have we never observed life? These first few questions set off the idea. It was a late, hot summer, and the world seemed at peace. Everything had become quiet, perhaps due to the time of year, with no wonders to call my own, at the end of another year, I could account for nothing but wasted time. Why, the thought of how many hours I had s
Noise
They all looked on longingly, one by one they eased into the low blue car, the headlights flickered on and shot through the short patchy wood just ahead. Two men and two women, men in front and women in back drove off. As they faded in the distance she swore she caught a white worri
Toys
"Just take the two, by the window, at the end."
He barely believed he had just heard that, he had, not just asked for one, but two, two of those terrible figures. Not only that, but, he had left them at the end, the very end, he wasn't just content with idea of going up there, no he wanted him to go to the end. He wanted him to suffer. Well, he had always been a man of extremes. If he was ever to do something, he'd get the most out of. So, seeing as he was on his way to suffer, he may as well suffer as much as possible. Spend the maximum amount of time up there. Where they r
I never truly believed in much. The little faith I had in anything was melted, stuck like candle wax at the bottom of a vial, under snake venom. It was hard to see much of light. What shine I noticed was slit through naked trees, crooked hands, reaching up to a crested moon. I saw it and even swore by it. The only hope I ever had sat too high above me to touch, too hard to reach to cover the venom with. It would have lasted, probably. That is, if the big bads would stop trampling over my heart, my spine and cracking open my little vial of faith, losing it somewhere in the lake they leave me in. It's hard to tell blood from poison from need fr
I hail from the horrid west Been, reading books for quite some time Writing for quite some time, horror mostly, I'm cool like that y'see Into all sorts, up for all sorts, indeed... The human race is decaying at an unbelieveable pace, yep, I'm here to speed things along!
Current Residence: Galway, Aligeri forgot to mention that one... Favourite genre of music: Rock, all sorts of such Favourite photographer: The guy with the nicest looking camera, snazzy stuff Favourite style of art: Animes :B Operating System: Your love...baby MP3 player of choice: The invisible one Wallpaper of choice: Paint please Skin of choice: White Favourite cartoon character: Batman...I guess Personal Quote: "It was a morbid joke, if ever he would tell a joke, it would be a morbid one."
Favourite Visual Artist
Bernie Wrightson, he does a damn good Frankenstein
Am back no maybes, hmm?
I am very busy and will likely not upload anything, lest I decide to give nonfiction another shot.
You may cancel all appointments, glue your eyes to the screen.
I permit no sighs until the fat lady sings.
She works only Sunday, it is not Sunday at the time of writing.
While your bated breath.
More Avant Garde nonsense, you would not get.
So yes, I realised straight after saying I'd returned I left. But honestly, this time I am honestly returning. I've been really rather busy, that's not to say I haven't had free time, it's simply that I'd honestly departed from the website due to clogging fourm topics (I have shall never again start a topic, damned internet persistence!). And yes, I fully intend on adding some short pieces again, at any rate, if anybody reads this... how arth thou?