I think i started writing a book last night... here's what I have

[vanilla]

hah thanks man, ill see if i get some more time/booze this weekend

[Mafoo]

haha the best inspiration

[vanilla]

I took a big raw spoonful of the dry, salty, made for homeless dudes’ meal Josh had prepared and kept flipping through the channels. I finally found some Simpson’s reruns and kept that on, but before I knew it I was half asleep on the couch. Don’t worry; I didn’t do much else that day.

While I slept, I had some weird dreams. I was pretty experienced with lucid dreams and their vague meanings, but this was new to me. I found myself in a mall that somehow seemed familiar, which isn’t that uncommon, since every dream I have seems to be in an area that feels every familiar. The place was pretty packed and I was alone, but I kept walking around trying to talk to people. Everyone I went up to just looked at me all weird and turned away looking very disturbed. I don’t know what the fuck their problem was, but not a single soul would talk to me or even have the nerve to look into my eyes. I managed to find some girl I think I knew, even though the name that came to mind in my dream head was nothing what she looked like; she still talked to me. I asked her what it felt like to be a character in my dream world, a figment of my imagination, a manifestation of my subconscious; and she told me it was pretty much the same as in waking life. I looked at her all puzzled like as she walked away with a smirk on her face, but the face wasn’t really hers, yet one I had put on her as I saw fit. She sustained that grin beneath her mask as she stepped a few feet away, which somehow caused some slow-mo explosion in my field of vision. Shapes became obsolete and objects turned into chaotic balls of colourful energy as she turned a bright white noise whose eyes told me my life story and future in an instant. I rubbed my eyes and sat down on one of those benches by the waterfall type attraction in the centre of the mall and started to think. All that I saw, dream world, waking life; same thing. All that I see is all I want it to be, a creation of what I think. I looked around and saw corpses walking around with smiles on their faces as they drifted in and out of the stores; bags in one hand and wallets in the other, as they bought their way to heaven, one shirt at a time.

[vanilla]

bumps anyone ?

[whit3.rhino]

This is great vanilla, it is a really cool way to write the story. It's like you are writing it from the way a normal person would encounter life. Swearing, drugs, even the subtle comments that come to the characters mind. Im really digging this man, please keep coming up with more. I've got an idea for a story that I thought of while i was super bakd, maybe ill get the inspiration to write it soon...keep up the good writing





-whit3.rhino

[vanilla]

Wake up. 5am. Tired. I stumbled over to the bathroom to expel the liquid sins of the previous night, and came to the conclusion that being sober is grossly overrated. My mouth was dry as a bone, my head hurt, I was nauseous, grumpy, and very hungry; but for those 6 or so hours last night, the voices in my head stopped. I had spent most of the day napping and eating, but only when I drank did I really get some rest. I walked over to the window and peered outside as the nighthawks made their way about town, dancing and yelling on the streets without a care in the world. Maybe in another life I could’ve been one of them, could’ve done the same things, felt the same way, maybe even have known them. My eyes drifted across the desolate scenery of the concrete abutments when I happened to see homeless man holding a banana yelling at anything that stepped into his peripheral vision. I could see his mouth moving and faintly heard some words seep through the windows, so I let some air in along with what seemed like a lost rhyme in one of the beat generation’s forgotten writers’ overlooked novels…

“…along the city streets roam rampant and repugnant bodies of the earth, beautiful and ugly, confused and wise, yet their true colours do not shine. Televangelists pray on our misguided souls in hopes that we one day buy into their monastery of lies, but they don’t know the truth either. They kill the learned and knowledgeable to further their own cause, and no one is exempt. They do not recognize the pure sublimity of aesthetic experience and wish pain and suffering upon our brothers and sisters…” he trailed off, but I got the point. I threw on some clothes and ran down to catch him before he passed out behind a dumpster.

“Hey brother, what’s goin’ on?” I yelled at him as I crossed the street, trying to open an imported beer with my hands.

“…through the eyes of the young lay the true forgotten spirit of the…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it, I just came to talk man… you want this beer?” I handed him the bottle and he graciously accepted. I looked down at his overturned hat on the sidewalk, which contained nothing but a single dime in it.
“…and that’s what you get for tellin’ the truth… damn people these days, they walk around out here, but none of them are really awake, and they don’t even know it…”
“Yeah tell me about it… I heard what you said before though, up in my apartment up there…” as I motioned up to my second story shithole.


more to come soon as always
appreciate the reads and comments

[vanilla]

anyone?
i've got some more

[Pharm Girl]

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees, the stars and the moon;
you have a right to be here!
And whether or not it is clear to you,
the universe is unfolding as it should.........~

[Canuck Wisdom]

Vanilla this is awesome, I read all of it. The style is really you and comes across fluidly. Keep it coming man. The character and the philosophy are really doing it for me too, as you might understand heh.

[vanilla]

thanks for the nice words

“How long have you been out here for? Like, aren’t you cold or tired or some shit?”
“Sleep is for the weak!”
I let out a chuckle as he pointed his banana at me like some kind of stick up from a lost Looney Toons cartoon gone weird. I told him I didn’t have any cash, but I offered to buy him some food at a nearby place with my plastic money. He said sure, then picked up his grimy hat and we set off.

“So what do they call you anyways? I bet all you bums have catchy nicknames for each other, like Crisco or Panda Man or something like that.”
“You know if you weren’t buying me a hot meal I would knock your ass to the curb and snatch your wallet… but no, my name’s Earl.”
I was about to shake his hand and introduce myself, but I realized the last thing he could’ve done with that thing is wipe his dirty bum ass, so I settled for a name exchange.
A few moments later we got to the old diner and walked in, where the owner greeted us with some shouting and swearing about homeless, before I convinced him to let us stay since I was buying the man some food. Earl muttered some grizzly old depression-era shit under his breath which I assumed was an insult, but the only thing it brought to my mind was how he sounded like some hard boiled detective on an old time cop show.
I ordered us some smoke meat sandwiches with fries and some soup and we got to talking about his current situation.

“So what’s your story Earl, what brings you out here?”
“Well, I’m sure you, and most people, expect the same old story of a guy down on his luck turning to booze or drugs and then losing everything. The truth is, that isn’t it at all. I used to have a nice house, a nice wife, a nice car, and a cute little dog that would jump up on me every time I came home from work. One day I woke up and was just so tired of it all, tired of the same old bullshit. Getting up to go to work, coming home and resting from work, so I could have enough energy to do it all over again the next day. Let me tell you something else, I didn’t have some pussy job like these computer geeks these days who sit at a desk all day; I was doing hard work. But anyways, I was just so fed up; I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I got ready for the day as usual, kissed my wife when I left the house, then got in my car and drove straight across the country. I maxed out all my credit cards on booze, hotels, and food until I ran out, and then started living on the street. I just didn’t care anymore, and I still don’t… it just isn’t worth the grind.

[vanilla]

I looked at him peacefully as I swirled a french fry in my puddle of runny mayonnaise, and thought of all the times I’ve thought of doing the exact same thing. We talked a bit longer and then parted ways; me thinking about how a few choice words and a man’s weathered old face could influence me so much, while Earl probably thought about the last meal he had that he didn’t have to pick cigarettes butts and condom wrappers off of.

I wandered off back to my apartment, and passed out in my bed drunk as usual, but I seemed to have slept for days. Waking up and looking at my clock slowly change from hour to hour, minute to minute; time was crawling by, but I didn’t seem to mind as I blissfully passed the time with only my mind’s eye as entertainment. I felt the whole planet rotate and revolve around me and I didn’t mind, I didn’t want to be bothered; I was totally comfortable and happy lying in my bed as my bizarre and perverse dreams floated through my head. I felt aware in a way of my surroundings, like I had been here before, and this feeling oozed into the morning with some kind of natural progression. I got up and walked to my window I had stared out of only a few hours before, and while the people and actions had changed, they were all still the same. Oh well.




I decided to go book shopping so I showered and dressed and headed out the door. This bookstore in particular was my favourite one in the city; it was probably the biggest one I had ever been in, it had tons of obscure books, and there was no Starbucks attached to its hip. Did I ever hate those latte swilling hipsters crowding my favourite bookstores. I had no idea what these types read, but there sure was a ton of them around every other bookstore in the city, which is totally beyond me.

When I got there I shuffled around the science books, looking over some astronomy ones and evolutionary theory as well. I flipped through one that was a biography of Darwin, and decided on that one alone due to my cash flow situation. I was rounding the corner when I heard some old man arguing with the cashier. I got closer and heard him complaining about something ridiculous like a certain book being out of stock and how he’ll never shop here again and bla bla blaaaa. I suddenly remembered of all those shitty days I spent as a cashier at a number of different stores taking guff from impatient and insatiable customers and understood completely how the poor girl at the counter probably just wanted to take a knife and handcuffs and torture this guy until he knew what it was like.

“Hey buddy, it’s not her fault you have shitty taste in books, why don’t you go across the street to get your toupee trimmed and call it a day?” He turned around and gave me some old man version of the stink eye.
“Mind your own business kid! And when I grew up, we respected our elders!”
“Respect is earned not demanded, someone as old as you should know that by now. Just quit when you’re not even more behind, ok?”
He gave me another one of his stupid looks and just stormed out of there as everyone tried to piece together the last 20 seconds or so. The cashier just stared at me like just about everyone else as they whispered to each other what they thought of this thoroughly bizarre chain of events.

[vanilla]

I tried to think of something funny to say to the girl but before I knew it I blurted out “Well I guess this isn’t the best time to tell you this book I wanted isn’t in either…” She just kind of rolled her eyes and scanned the Darwin book. Stupid.
“Yeah… well the one woman back there said I could leave my name and number and you guys would call me when it comes in… can I leave that with you?”
“Are you serious? Did you just yell at this guy so you could have an excuse to hit on me? That’s even more pathetic than him.”
Wow. What a turn of events. I just left the book there and ran out like a little dog with my tail between my legs. I can’t believe that girl, what a psycho.

Once again I was out on my ass feeling not so hot, so I called up this skinhead dealer I knew and took a bus down to his place on the other side of town to pick up some acid. This guy was a real weirdo, I honestly didn’t know if he was french, Spanish, Italian, or something else, but he had some kind of accent and lived in the most rundown piece of shit that I’ve ever seen. It was a notoriously crack infested neighbourhood, and while I’d like to say that I felt confident I could hold my own in this wasteland, my 19 years being raised in the burbs as a skinny whiteboy solidified my position as someone that clearly could not. In anycase, I walked up the ratty stairs to his place and was about to knock on the door when I saw it was open a crack. I slowly opened the door and found DeCarlo strung out on his hideous couch with a mound of coke on a DVD case in front of him. He turned his head and motioned for me to come in.

“So my friend, what brings you here today? You want some white, no?
“Nah man, I’m good. You got any acid though? I’m thinking my pipes could really use a cleaning…”
“Yes yes, sit down, I have for you.” He reached down into some big chest under his table and pulled out a bag of weed and began picking out huge nugs and putting them on a magazine beside the mini avalanche of blow.

“Uh hey, I said I wanted some acid…?”
“Yes yes my friend, I get to it, first we smoke a joint ok?”
“Oh yeah sure… so uh, how’s business? Good? You must be flipping QP’s in like 1-2 days now…”
“Eh, none of your business, ok? Fucking guy…”
“Yeah right, ok… oh yeah, before I forget I’ve got a pretty big amount of some mushrooms, you think you could take it off my hands for me? I just want to get rid of it all at once.”
He stopped grinding the weed for a second and looked up at me.
“How much do you have?”
“I don’t know, a couple ounces I guess?”
“…this is not a big amount, me I eat more in a single time by myself… but yes I will take them from you.”
“Ok that’s cool, we’ll deal with that another time though I don’t want to think about it now…”
DeCarlo finished rolling the joint and lit it immediately, as we awkwardly chatted about punk music and our favourite foods. I wasn’t really paying much attention to him, and when he finally sold me the acid I originally came for, I made some excuse up about having to go back home and rewind some DVD’s so I could return them and left. I strolled out on the shit streets of this ghetto and made my way to the bus stop as I called my friend Pete, and asked him if he felt like tripping today. Obviously he was up for it. Although I was hesitant at first, due to his remarkable history of owing friends, acquaintances, and drug dealers huge debts of money, I felt he would be the best person to chill with considering he was probably the dumbest person that I knew, and the most fun/careless person to be around with a head full of acid. I even had a run in with him a few years back when I sold him some mush he never ended up paying me for, and had to break his car windows and jump him twice. The night of the first time I fought him, I went out to this local bar and had to face a barrage of drunken people congratulating me and buying me drinks for doing this; not that I minded the free drinks, but enough is enough sometimes. I had even heard he went months without riding his infamous bike around town at night because too many people in the area were looking for him, so he had to resort to taking the bus at strategic times throughout the day, avoiding certain people and neighbourhoods. What a clown.

In any case, he agreed to meet me at this park just outside of the downtown area and right by this one university campus. Naturally lots of students were sitting around smoking joints of their own, so the whole scene was real mellow and laid back.