This is my first fable, I mean, freewriting... or is it freethinking? Never mind. So I have finally made an account in 420fables.com and I'm typing away. I'm just wondering why nowadays almost all the websites I visit ask for signing up using Facebook. It feels like my entire life happens on Facebook and sometimes I even feel like the whole point of my survival depends on it. I seriously don't know whether my life has become easier or complicated because of Facebook. I can't even remember my life before I signed up. I do remember a little bit about my childhood and signing up on orkut. But this is serious. I don't remember anything else. Is it because i've changed a lot since that time or that a lot of events happened after i signed up or that i just signed up at a very crucial point of my life where I actually forgot everything and facebook is reminding them to me through my posts. I have no idea till now. Time will tell.
Sometimes the greatest injustice is not what others seem to do to us, but rather what we do to ourselves in this process. We wonder aimlessly, looking for an answer or solution in all of the wrong places. We convince ourselves that broken things will somehow make us whole again, and we firmly grasp the jagged shards in our hands. Sometimes these broken pieces turn out being the shattered remnants of what used to be people. We fall in love with the beauty in their cracks, and we somehow see art in all of it. This is the injustice that I mentioned before. The part where we break ourselves over the people who we knew were never good enough for us. We settle for the cracks in sidewalks because that type of imperfection looks like nothing compared to the canyons that lie within us. Our canyons swallow us whole, until we can find something worth filling them with.
The train is screaming over the horizon line. I'm over here contemplating the nature of time. Lemonade mind. Sugar tone. Easy does it, difficult cousin. There is heat around the flame. There is flame around the fuel. What starts the spark? What initiates the burn-down protocol? What leaves the molecules for dead? The universe is a cold card dealer, and the odds are not in our favor. Life, in this universe, is a blackjack table. We will win a hand here and there, and our pile of gamble-coins will grow, and we will play with them in our hands. But the odds are not in our favor. And soon we will be back into the streets, cold in search of heat. Easy does it, difficult cousins. Salt tones on our mobile phones. What starts the spark? What is the flame?
Creativity and Imagination. They work together so we can create and imagine unique art. We need to be creative and imaginative to design something pretty. We need to be creative and imaginative when dealing with art forms-be it drawing, doodling or something else. Creativity and Imagination lets me test the waters: how far can I go? Those two words alone are inspirational, I love it. Whether it's a new artwork or novel/story, different art media or story genre we need to have those words.
This is actually a rewrite of the fable I wrote earlier, when I attempted publishing it, my internet disconnected and the fable was gone...I love creating and imagining
"I... I think I'm going to be sick. I've seen some grisly shit in my time as a Marine but this, this is ungodly."
The scene before me was just inhuman, bodies hacked limb from limb, a pentagram drawn on the floor in human blood and entrails. Severed and charred heads at each point of the star, and in the middle of the wretched symbol, a man ripped open from neck to pelvis, impaled on a spike, and he was still alive.
I left the room, hatred burning in my veins. Who, or what ever did this. They, will, pay. I rounded the corner and saw a black med-kit hanging from the wall. It was labeled "Adrenaline and Regeneration Enhancement Kit." I pocketed it for now, thinking that could be useful for later.
I found some logs on a few of the PDAs scattered throughout the base, apparently Deimos moon and the base with it just vanished out of the sky about a week before they tried to fire up that damned portal.
I don't really have time to contemplate the implications of these findings because right around the next corner was a monstrous, pink abomination.