When it Rings Will You Answer?

One and One and One is Three

Posts Tagged ‘Personal Musings

i love you

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there have been seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, even years/ i’ve prayed to a god that i don’t even believe in/ for a new brain/one that isn’t broken/ one that makes me think like everyone else/one that makes me feel like everyone else/one that doesn’t hurt my heart/one that reminds me to breathe/but when i’m feeling my lowest/when i’m praying my hardest/i only have to think of you/if whatever god i had been praying to had answered/i wouldn’t have been where i was/i wouldn’t have been who i was/who i am/i wouldn’t have met you/and i’d only be praying harder/to find you/to hold you/to love you like i do

Written by whenitringswillyouanswer

January 16, 2015 at 11:19 PM

Untitled 852

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they loved each other
it was a selfish love
they kept it hidden from the rest the world
it was not ready for its beauty

they built a home for their hearts
their bodies would then follow
they did not need anything else
they would not have known if they did

they loved each other
it was anything but selfish
the world would be ready
but not today

Written by whenitringswillyouanswer

January 3, 2015 at 11:27 AM

DAY SEVENTEEN – “A Treehouse”

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I realized that this is a writing challenge. It doesn’t have to be a creative writing challenge. So, here we are. I am going to just keep typing until something comes to me. Treehouse. Treehouse. Treehouse. I was never an adventurous kid. I was always insanely cautious. I didn’t climb trees. The thought of getting stuck or falling was far too terrifying. My dad built us a treehouse when we lived in Thornbury. It was “late eighties/early nineties safe” and also had a balance beam for my sister.

The only real memory I have of the treehouse is that balance beam. For as cautious as I was, I was still a stupid little boy and that balance beam was the exact height of my stupid little head. I was outside, throwing a ball in the air and hitting it around the yard, emulating Joe Carter as best I could. I got a hold of one and launched it. Now, you hit a dinger, you’re supposed to take your time with the “home run trot,” but not this kid. Oh no, I was all about the hustle. I raised my arms in the air and ran as fast as I could. Rounding second base is where it all went wrong. I must have missed it entirely when in the midst of my celebration, fist pump run and gotten off course. Within seconds I was on the ground and crying my stupid little eyes out. How one can go from jubilation to pure sorrow in a matter of seconds is always a sight to see.

That balance beam gave me a goosebump for the ages on my forehead. More importantly, it taught me to show some class when you hit a monster shot out of the yard. You’ve got to show the pitcher some respect, even if that pitcher was yourself. Young Josiah learned karma that day. Then ran into a door knob and got a matching goosebump on the other side of his forehead, but that is a story for another time.

 

DAY SIX – “A Monster Performing a Mundane Task”

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God I hate this. Go buy groceries for the party, she says. Why are we even having a party? We hate our neighbours and the last of our friends were run out-of-town months ago. But noooooo, we have to be neighbourly, she says. Maybe if we get to know them, they won’t run us out-of-town too. That’s about as likely as Dracs joining our softball team, Sunday afternoons! Ugh. Where do I even find bean dip? Maybe I’ll ask the guy re-stocking soda. Why though? He’ll just yell at me to go away or worse, he’ll run away screaming. I hate when they run away screaming. Okay, come on. We can do this. It’s just a human boy. I’m sure he’ll see that I am just trying to buy some groceries.

I mean, it’s like they think I’m going to eat them. I’m a vegetarian for chrissakes! If I was going to hurt anyone, why would I have tried to join the Neighbourhood Watch? Oh, that went real well, didn’t it? Forget it. I don’t think we really need bean dip any way. If she wants bean dip so badly, she can come buy it herself. Stupid party. I just want to sit at home and listen to my records and maybe have a nice scotch. Is that so demanding? No! I deserve it. That’s it. I’m putting my foot down. I am going home and telling her, absolutely NO party and if she doesn’t like it, tough cookies! Yes. Let’s do this. Just slowly put your basket full of goodies down and walk out. Come on! You can do this. One, two, three….OH WHO AM I KIDDING? I’m more terrified of her than the neighbours are. I better just finish this list. Stupid party. Stupid town. Stupid life. I never asked for this! Sigh. Oh well. Let’s just get through this one task first. Ah! There it is, bean dip. $9?! COME ON! What, did they use beans made out of unicorn poop? Speaking of unicorns, I should give Lady Amalthea a call. That would tick off the ol’ ball and chain. Serves her right for making me buy $9 bean dip. 

Okay let’s take a look here, have I got everything on the list? Looks like it. If I forget anything I’ll never hear the end of it. THE PARTY IS RUINED AND EVERYONE HATES US BECAUSE YOU FORGOT THE BEAN DIP YOU MONSTER! I can hear it now. Sigh. Maybe I should just let the pitchforks and torches get me. Bean dip. Come on. 

 

30 Day Challenge …Challenge Accepted!

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I don’t write nearly as often as I would like to. It ranges from lack of ideas to sheer laziness. I also feel, for the most part, that I am writing for a non-existent audience. I’m lucky if five of my friends take the time to click a link I share and luckier still if three of them actually read what I’ve written. I don’t blame them. I haven’t brought much to the table worth reading. So, what I have decided, is that I need a gimmick. Something to kickstart my stalling need to produce.

I have a lot of artist friends and many of them have done, in various incarnations, a “30 Day Challenge.” In these challenges they are given a list of thirty items that they draw/paint/interpretive dance over a period of thirty days. Now, I am sure there are actual writing challenges out there as well, but I have decided to take one from the art world. Knowing that it is designed for the visual art world to me makes it slightly more challenging to convey with the written word.

It will be anything from short stories to poems to random musings to research papers. Okay – no research papers, but you get the idea.

I may thrive. I may drive an eighteen-wheeler over a cliff. Some of them are going to be quite tricky. We shall see. Either way, I will get this baby started tomorrow for the month of May (I know, I know, May has 31 Days. Someone will have to add a 31st challenge).

Hopefully I get some eyeballs and also some feedback. Here is the list:

30 Day Challenge

 

Who knows, maybe I’ll even add a stick figure illustration for each day as well.

Not With a Bang but With a Whimper

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Through hazy eyes

She saw the world

Not how it was

But how she thought it should be

She doesn’t remember

The moment it happened

She doesn’t remember

Giving in

Through clear eyes

She sees the world

Exactly how it is

Written by whenitringswillyouanswer

March 29, 2014 at 5:22 PM

So You’re 30

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So you’re 30 years old, emphasis on the old. You’re not one of those “have your shit together” 30s either. No, you don’t have a mortgage, spouse, kid, career, or whatever the fuck they’re counting as ‘adult’ these days.  I mean, hell, you don’t even have a goldfish, let alone a dog or cat. The thought of being responsible for another living thing terrifies the shit out of you. You lost your keys at least seven times last month alone. You’d tie your mittens to your coat if you didn’t fear being socially ostracized. It’s getting bad enough that the singles’ table at your friends’ weddings has turned into the kids’ table. You my friend, are an embarrassment. At least that’s what you are starting to believe about yourself. I am here to tell you that it’s all bullshit.

Ask yourself this: WHO THE FUCK CARES?

Maybe you had a life plan and it went awry. You had the guy or girl of your dreams, were on the right path career-wise and had your eye on that Siberian Husky litter down the street. Then your company was investigated by the OSC, your girlfriend/boyfriend left you for the bartender at your favourite pub, and the Siberian Husky puppies were all claimed. Suddenly you’re in the same spot that loser friend that never even finished university is in. What happened? Life happened. It’s shitty, but hey, you’re alive and still have time to turn it all around. Quit belly aching. You had it all once, who says you can’t have it all again? Look at Robert Downey Jr., everybody loves a good redemption story. Just don’t Lohan this shit. Plus that bartender will totally cheat and you’ll either get to be the supportive shoulder or laughing, judgmental finger pointer. It’s never quite as bad as it seems.

For those of us who never bothered with the life plan and still don’t know what the fuck we are doing, life isn’t all that bad either. We have the freedom to sit in our pyjamas and type idiotic advice blogs (while alternating between cutesy and creepy subreddits) until four in the afternoon. Some times people even read these things. I mean, your life must be pretty fucked up right now if you are taking anything away from this, but it could be worse. If you are reading this, you have access to the internet, so, I mean, yay porn, right?

I think I’ve lost the original intent of this post. I turned 30 and freaked out. I just wanted to swear a lot and pretend that everything will be okay. Truthfully, I actually kind of believe that. “The future is unwritten” as Joe Strummer would croon and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thanks for reading and I apologize profusely for wasting your time. Please enjoy this Cyanide & Happiness comic.

porn-everywhere3

Written by whenitringswillyouanswer

March 13, 2014 at 11:10 AM