The following is something I typed at summer camp whilst running on little sleep and full of random creativity. Please humor me and recognize that this is the result of an overstimulated mind and is hardly proofread.
Be afraid. Be very afraid.
- - - - -
*slides laptop from its plush sheath*
The curtain just slid down, as it does in Lord of the Flies over Ralph's dying mind. Speaking of curtains, maybe this is a sign that I need the sleep I was craving so badly this morning. My sleep-starved mind did not then even dream I could live through the morning. If I'd known I'd be running 2 hours and fifteen minutes all over the hot PHC campus in the afternoon in jeans and tennis shoes, I would have cried. See? Evidence that He provides unexpected grace.
But I digress. It's good to see you again, mon ami. It's good to feel your black keys under me.
What? What's this you say? You didn't miss me? “Enjoyed the vacation??” You worm-ridden hunk of data! Vacation from I, your very own User, the one who packed you so lovingly in that expensive blue sheath and put you so carefully in my bag and -
*glowers*
Well, I was running out of time. And surely you were just as safe there at the top of my mound of shorts and tops as you would have been tucked to the side. And, see, you got here all in one piece! The only thing that seems to have changed is your attitude. >_>
Don't give me that look. I'm tired of your insolence. I'm tired of a lot of things, and I don't need you to cube them.
Your screen is so blue. I could stare at you a long time, and maybe fall asleep into you. Wouldn't that be exciting? What wonders you could show me, if you'd only wipe that stupid grin off your face and pull me into your world.
Hm. On second thought, maybe I've had a taste of too many worlds today. I'd hoped that returning to my fantasy world of my writings might be refreshing, but perhaps it would not be the solace that I seek. Perhaps adding just one more set of personalities and demands and challenges to my remaining 26 minutes of pre-curfew time would be unwise.
Oh, that's what YOU think, you you red-coated turn-coat! I've almost had enough of you. I'm almost sick of you. I'm just not sick of you enough to slam this sleek lid closed, burying these splendid clicking keys. Ah, my fickle friend, I must confess that I need you for one more task.
Ten minutes, one scene. What to say?
- - -
I then wrote a brief scene consisting of two fantasy warriors arguing. I shall not share aforementioned scene here for a multiplicity of reasons, chief among them that I do not think their discourse worth your precious time, which could be spent reading something far more worthwhile, like Lord of the Flies, for instance.
An account of my summer camp experience is to follow. Suffice to say that it involved much activity and little sleep and was immensely enjoyable.
Only,
-whisper
5 comments:
O_o
Utterly confusing and roving.
Therefore, random.
Therefore, epic.
Quite the post, spy. *applauds* Either the worst or the best things happen when overstimulated and running on metaphorical fumes.
This is really great, whisper! I love it :) It's fun to re-read later what comes off your fingertips when you're working on an overstimulated mind that, as Jake said, is "running on metaphorical fumes" (I like that statement).
My computer is rather a dear...sometimes he'll just *poof* and decide to randomly sleep or surprise me by closing all my windows without asking permission :P but in general he's a good computer :D
Squeaks.
It's very true; the worst or the best comes out of such strange times.... never anything mediocre. >_> Those metaphorical fumes are powerful stuff.
They are indeed so enjoyable to reread, for generally one barely remembers what one has written after such a writing session. Looking upon it afterward is almost like seeing something you wrote in your sleep.
Ah, a fickle computer. They can be aggravating a'times, but the fickleness does grant them a certain endearing charm of personality. :D
-whisper
Absolutely awesome. *three thumbs up*
Why, thankyouthankyou. *bows happily*
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