Thursday, November 25, 2010

Life- Day 6

(Days 1-5 play an crucial role in understanding Day 6. Just sayin.)
(*Really. If you haven't read the first five days, you will not understand.)

The water grows colder by the day. Much has happened in this place I call my home. It began in the morning, when light first reached its pinnacle, and the mana did fall down, as regularly expected. Shadows previously gone unnoticed did flit into my heart as I made my way to the far Western Wall of the world. Eyes like daggers following my every movement, every glint of light an attempt to penetrate my soul in a gaze as piercing as the sharpest blade. I continued my stalwart march, my only wish to reach the place of Frank's rest in peace, without confrontation of any sort.

I did not make it without confrontation of any sort.

Just within sight of his chosen rock, there came a group of larger fish, arranging themselves in a single row, blocking me from my desired way. I made attempt to swim above, but the blockade would not be broken. Resolute as I was, however, to reach my beloved friend, I did not give in and return to my own abode, but made an attempt to communicate, limited as their capacities were.

"Good brothers! Greetings this day!"

Vacant stares.

"If you would pardon my intrusion in this apparently hostile blockade, I would only like to pass through, temporarily, in hopes to visit my good brother Frank. He is my dearest friend, you see, and especially in this day of eerie wonder and questionable safety in being outside of one's home... My passing through will be quick, I promise you, and if you wish, I might -"

It was at this point that they beat me, and left, without further adieu.

It was in this battered state, laying upon the pebbly earth below, grasping to consciousness and breath as a tightly as a dying goldfish could possibly manage, that the purest of lights came over me, and not just me, but my consciousness, my everything, my being and all that I was and am became consumed by its brilliance and beauty, its depth of white-ness, as curious as it sounds. The light seemed to draw nearer; escape, had I wished to attempt it, would have been impossible. We seemed to merge, the light and I... it becoming me, and I... light.

While in this state of seeming immaterial, I attest to you this day, I had a vision. A vision of life BEYOND our world, this contained... box, this prison! There is more, I know now, there is. I dare not now divulge the beauty of things to which I bore witness. To do so... no, my words cannot describe them! But know, dearest one, KNOW THIS: I shall see these things again, and soon, if I can accomplish it. And this time, it shall be in the flesh.

Invigorating as the experience was, it did nothing to change the fact that I was still lying upon the cold, unforgiving ground, blood streaming slightly from my gills, body twitching in the aching memory of my assailants. There I lay for some time, in no small wonder, realizing that if I were not soon found by some friend, this may very well mean an untimely end to my still young and ambition filled life. I was not about to let this happen.

Gathering all my remaining strength, I gave one powerful kick, a lurch in the direction of Frank, sending me a small distance westward. More blood seeped from my wounds, and now darkness, not light, began to gather around me. I fought off this enticing foe; I must continue, I MUST reach Frank.

Frank, my brother, I repeated in my mind. To him I must go. Kick. Darkness. Fight. Kick. Darkness. Fight. On and on this circle of painful progression pressed on...

I do not know how much time passed. I know the light overhead had already disappeared, and other fish were not to be seen. I reached the rock under which Frank resides, shut my eyes, and felt my spirit part from my body.

My life as Peter the Fish had ended.

Thursday, November 11, 2010


It is so. Incredibly. Late. I do not want to be awake at this wretched hour of the night. Yet despite my weariness, awake I must be, for when the clock strikes 5 AM, the morning birds shall chirp, and I... I shall register for my classes.

"But most brave and noble sir! Is it not foolish to wait until 5 AM without sleeping in between? Could you not simply set an alarm, or a trusted elephant, and awaken at a time pleasing to whatever god it is that has plagued you with this burden?"

"Ah, good peasant, see! This logic of which you speak, I have long since relinquished to the crucified wind! I believe it was on a whim of charity that I gifted it away to a poor Samaritan in the lonely city of Hamm."

"Charity? Hamm?"

Good sir, be careful what you speak. BYU idaho may hear you. It is from them this nonsense spreads, and contagious it very well is. Sanity looms on an armchair's horizon. Silly mouse. Don't do that.

Websites are puzzling. I do not understand! There is only one thing which I truly do not understand, and fully intend not to. How could I? I was not gifted with psychic powers, however much I wish I had.

It is late. I must finish. Goodbye.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Jello and Meaningful Things

Dear most appreciated and exquisitely well-hatted readers (and other hatless visitors),


Do you ever have the feeling that you are being watched? The feeling a spider gets when a deceptively white tissue inches ever nearer above its head, or a gazelle, ears upright in unwaivering attention, sensing the presence of a stalking tiger.

Dear ones, you are all tigers.

I run, but not fast enough. My death would be a bloody one.

But then, on the brink of the kill, you stop.

"Dear me!" I cry, "Why have you not yet eaten me!"

You stare into my eyes, stripes and teeth glistening in the sweltering Savvanahian heat. You wait. I wait. I know not what you think.

I hate the unknown. The fate of my throat is in your hands. Tell me what you are thinking. Tell me what you like, you dislike. Judge me. Feel free to criticize my writing; I'll never get better if you do not tell me what I can improve.

Be nice to fruited jello. It's not its fault.