peculiarexistenceofnonexist-blog

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I went to the beach that we never met I sat at the docks where we never had our first kiss I dived into the ocean where I never said I love you And I watched the sunset over the horizon where you never existed.

from the unacknowledged heart

#040217 #you never existed #a wish #foolish #randomthoughts #chance compositions #me and my willfully ignorant heart

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Nawala na lang bigla sa gitna ng ere Puso ko'y iniwang sawi’t bigo, o giliw ko. Ang sakit namang isiping: ginamit, pinaglaruan Ang pagibig ko. O aking sinta, o aking sinta.... O aking sintang minahal ng lubos. … Akala ko'y walang kasing kislap Ang ating pag-ibig Ngunit heto tayoy, balik sa pagiging estranghero O ano nga ba ang nangyari sa ating walang hanggan?

meant to be a part of a song that i will never finish

#010416 #847AM #meant for someone else #random words put together #sorry di ko na natapos

[peculiarexistenceofnonexist-blog]

April

On a chilly April morning, he decided that he had enough.

He ran on iced roads made slippery by the frozen morning dew and the puddles left by last night’s rainfall.

He ran and he ran, not bothering to look back.

Amidst the freezing wind that howls on his ears, and a strong gale that threatens to topple him and leave him frozen flat on the ground, he found the solace that he seeks.

#040417 #april #solace in the silence #chance compositions #giving up #coffee-fueled mornings #written on the bus

[peculiarexistenceofnonexist-blog]

“This is the oldest I have ever been” is a true statement that becomes false the moment after you say it

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So, if you are too tired to speak, sit next to me for I, too, am fluent in silence.

R. Arnold (via psych2go)

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Do You Have False Memories?

False memories are vivid memories that an individual has of an event that has not occurred in their life. For example, individuals may have an extreme vivid memory of an event that happened before they were born and only heard about it through family members.

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[peculiarexistenceofnonexist-blog]

My illusion, my mistake.

[peculiarexistenceofnonexist-blog]

I am talking to myself because there is no one. No one at all.

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Read my eyes for they say what my lips can not.

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We are all born with a tattoo on our wrist, it reads the first sentence spoken to you by your soulmate. Your sentence: “Hey!”

[peculiarexistenceofnonexist-blog]

Couples receive “parent points”, which they can use to purchase their children. Most parents wait for a few thousand, but you chose to buy the cheaper, 100 point child.

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You buy a special camera at the pawn shop. Every photo you take, it shows a snapshot of 10 years ago. You take a picture of your dog and it shows him 10 years ago when he was a puppy. Everything is all fun and games, until you decide to take a picture of your bedroom one night.

[peculiarexistenceofnonexist-blog]

You’re bitten by a zombie. By some strange happening, you die and become a zombie, but your ghost remains bound to this earth. Your ghost has to try and keep your zombie body out of trouble until a cure is found.

[peculiarexistenceofnonexist-blog]

You’re a humble peasant who must fight off waves of adventurers who feel entitled to waltz into your house and loot whatever they please. You begin to kill the adventurers that enter your home, keeping their items. Over time, you accidentally become a major villain.

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writing-prompt-s:

Valhalla does not discriminate against the kind of fight you lost. Did you lose the battle with cancer? Maybe you died in a fist fight. Even facing addiction. After taking a deep drink from his flagon, Odin slams his cup down and asks for the glorious tale of your demise!

Oh my god, this is beautiful.

A small child enters Valhalla. The battle they lost was “hiding from an alcoholic father.” Odin sees the flinch when he slams the cup and refrains from doing it again. He hears the child’s pain; no glorious battle this, but one of fear and wretched survival.

He invites the child to sit with him, offers the choicest mead and instructs his men to bring a sword and shield, a bow and arrow, of the very best materials and appropriate size. “Here,” he says, “you will find no man who dares to harm you. But so you will know your own strength, and be happy all your days in Valhalla, I will teach you to use these weapons.”

The sad day comes when another child enters the hall. Odin does not slam his cup; he simply beams with pride as the first child approaches the newcomer, and holds out her bow and quiver, and says “nobody here will hurt you. Everyone will be so proud you did your best, and I’ll teach you to use these, so you always know how strong you are.”

————

A young man enters the hall. He hesitates when Odin asks his story, but at long last, it ekes out: skinheads after the Pride parade. His partner got into a building and called for help. The police took a little longer than perhaps they really needed to, and two of those selfsame skinheads are in the hospital now with broken bones that need setting, but six against one is no fair match. The fear in his face is obvious: here, among men large enough to break him in two, will he face an eternity of torment for the man he left behind?

Odin rumbles with anger. Curses the low worms who brought this man to his table, and regales him with tales of Loki so to show him his own welcome. “A day will come, my friend, when you seek to be reunited, and so you shall,” Odin tells him. “To request the aid of your comrades in battle is no shameful thing.”

———-

A woman in pink sits near the head of the table. She’s very nearly skin and bones, and has no hair. This will not last; health returns in Valhalla, and joy, and light, and merrymaking. But now her soul remembers the battle of her life, and it must heal.

Odin asks.

And asks again.

And the words pour out like poisoned water, things she couldn’t tell her husband or children. The pain of chemotherapy. The agony of a mastectomy, the pain still deeper of “we found a tumor in your lymph nodes. I’m so sorry.” And at last, the tortured question: what is left of her?

Odin raises his flagon high. “What is left of you, fair warrior queen, is a spirit bright as fire; a will as strong as any forged iron; a life as great as any sea. Your battle was hard-fought, and lost in the glory only such furor can bring, and now the pain and fight are behind you.“

In the months to come, she becomes a scop of the hall–no demotion, but simple choice. She tells the stories of the great healers, Agnes and Tanya, who fought alongside her and thousands of others, who turn from no battle in the belief that one day, one day, the war may be won; the warriors Jessie and Mabel and Jeri and Monique, still battling on; the queens and soldiers and great women of yore.

The day comes when she calls a familiar name, and another small, scarred woman, eyes sunken and dark, limbs frail, curly black hair shaved close to her head, looks up and sees her across the hall. Odin descends from his throne, a tall and foaming goblet in his hands, and stuns the hall entire into silence as he kneels before the newcomer and holds up the goblet between her small dark hands and bids her to drink.

“All-Father!” the feasting multitudes cry. “What brings great Odin, Spear-Shaker, Ancient One, Wand-Bearer, Teacher of Gods, to his knees for this lone waif?”

He waves them off with a hand.

“This woman, LaTeesha, Destroyer of Cancer, from whom the great tumors fly in fear, has fought that greatest battle,” he says, his voice rolling across the hall. “She has fought not another body, but her own; traded blows not with other limbs but with her own flesh; has allowed herself to be pierced with needles and scored with knives, taken poison into her very veins to defeat this enemy, and at long last it is time for her to put her weapons down. Do you think for a moment this fight is less glorious for being in silence, her deeds the less for having been aided by others who provided her weapons? She has a place in this great hall; indeed, the highest place.”

And the children perform feats of archery for the entertainment of all, and the women sing as the young man who still awaits his beloved plays a lute–which, after all, is not so different from the guitar he once used to break a man’s face in that great final fight.

Valhalla is a place of joy, of glory, of great feasting and merrymaking.

And it is a place for the soul and mind to heal.

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One day you find an old computer mouse in your backyard. Jokingly, you point it at a rock and right-click only to find that an options menu popped up just like on a normal computer. Detail your first week with the mouse, then detail your life ten years and how it’s changed just by being able to right-click anything

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We’ve all heard about fallen angels, be it literal or figurative. Tell the story of an ascended demon.