Grapes

There once was a boy who fell in love with a grape. Daily, the purple, juicy roundness of its shape enticed him to feed, but daily he refused to submit. They married, and had strange grape-human children. Sadly, they devoured themselves within days of delivery. The boy knew it was an unnatural life that he lived, yet to it, he was committed, and to his decision he would stand.
Friday night, he opened his refrigerator to find a sight he had always longed to see- a bag full of grapes, perfectly ripe and willing to be taken by the handful and consumed hardily.
It was over in minutes. The bag was gone; the red juice dripped attractively from his chins. He reached over to see his love, to explain, she was different! He could never treat her as he did those others, just seconds before. But as he reached, he realized. It was not upon the counter that he left her, but there, upon the sink in which he feasted. There were no grapes left to be seen. The boy had eaten his love, and enjoyed every last drop of it. From that day forward, he resolved never to fall in love with a fruit again, for would always be destined for the most disturbing of failures. 

The End

Song of the Acorn

The wind blew, and the leaves fluttered around him.

It would be a long drop to the ground, he thought. Truly frightening to think about, for that is where they reside. Dear God, do not let the them get me, his prayers echoed on a daily basis. To be captured, to be broken... It was a terrible fate, one he hoped he would never need experience. He had seen it happen to those before. Without warning, sometimes mid-conversation with an equally unsuspecting neighbor, they would fall to the cold, dry ground. There they would sit, and await their inevitable fate.

Sometimes they would call out, "Help, help! I see them coming, they are converging, they see me, they see me! No, no, please! This isn't..." But it would already be too late. Converge they would, and the cries would be drown in dreadful gnawing of pointy bucked teeth and death.

Bushy tails, beady eyes... Cunning is our foe. But we are the strong. We will not fall, for we are no ordinary acorns; no, we are THE Acorns, those whispered in the night, amid the rustling of the mighty oak trees... We are the acorns who will not fall.

So he sang.

The wind blew, and the leaves fluttered around him.

He would not fall.

The Long Tail of a Tadpole and a Fire-hose's Nozzle

A tiny tadpole swam in the murky waters of a cool, dark, place: the place in which he called his home. He knew nothing of the drastically life altering events about to unfold around him, for how could he? He was only a tadpole.

He swam to his right. He swam to his left. He released a mouth-bubble in quiet approval of his boundaries. In here, he was safe.

Then came the clink. CLINK!

And then a loud thump. But before the thump could register in his infantile-yet-wildly-imaginative-and-dangerously-intelligent-mind, he was mercilessly sucked into a raging vortex of deadly beam and bubble. His thoughts in this moment were those of confusion, of terror, and fear. This ordeal would have worsened in intensity as those remaining ideas were aptly flipped from his body, were it not for a single friend, unexpectedly made in the last breaths of his life in this difficult and oftentimes nonsensical world.

Time seemed to slow as his body increased in speed. A deep, yet strained voice echoed from the darkness surrounding him. "Hello."

"Hello?"

"Why are you inside of me?"

"Inside of you? Who are you?"

"My name... is Jeremiah. It is my solemn task to bring this water to those who are in need. Those who choose to hinder may not stand against. Tell me, smallish one, do you intend to hinder me from my duty?"

"I intend nothing of the sort! I commend you in your noble duty... My question pertains only to my own circumstance... What has happened to me? Why do I fly about in this most uncomfortable fashion? Why have you robbed me of my peace?"

"Robbed?" Asked the mysterious voice inside, "You dare insult my integrity, after first intruding into my body?"

"Body? Good sir, what ARE you?"

"I am that which is all around you. I am a tool of rescue. I am... a hose."

"A hose?"

"A hose."

"Alas, I fear then, my end has come. Tell me, Jeremiah the Hose, what awaits on the other side?"

"I know not, for I was not created with eyes."

"I see. I apologize."

An awkward lull in the conversation passed as the unfortunate tadpole rounded a turn, tumbling across Jeremiah's lining like a tadpole only would, head over fin in a very distinct rolling fashion.

"Do be careful!" The voice from nowhere boomed.

"I do the best I can, great one. There is but one issue I am presently more worried about: Impending doom, and death unimpeded!"

"Do your best then, I beg of you, to accept this fate without further noise, or unnecessary flailing, of that sort.

"Flailing? My dear hose, forgive me for being blunt, but you would be the last being I would consider taking council from, in these, quite possibly my final moments of life. What gives you the right?"

"Right? Incessant itch, you are a parasite within me. You have intruded; the most decent thing to do in your situation would be to quietly move on to whatever state The Fates have in store. Do you pray? Perhaps you should do so, and quietly."

"OH DEAR HOLDERS OF MY FATE!! I BEG OF THEE, SPARE ME FROM THIS HOSE'S WRATH!"

"WRETCHED BEING! I SHALL APPLAUD YOUR DEMISE!"

At which point, the tadpole began purposefully slamming his body upon the sides of Jeremiah's inside. Back and forth, back and forth he barreled as the already-frighteningly-jet-like flow of water began increasing in speed. The end was coming, and the tadpole knew it.

"Jeremiah! I apologize! I believe we may have had something of a bad beginning... how about we start over?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Small one."

"Yes?"

"Do you have a name?"

"I do not."

"Why not?"

"I never knew my family. I raised myself, alone in the confines of that place I was, just seconds ago."

"Then alas, your situation is grave. I accept your apology, as this is possibly your final moment of life. Enjoy this moment in silence."

"Thank you, Jeremiah."

"You are welcome."

And with the declaration of potential friendship, the nameless tadpole slipped through the fire-hose's nozzle with cartoon-like perfection, passed over the flaming building in a fireman's slight error of judgement, and landed in the creak across the way.

He lived happily ever after, marrying shortly after becoming a handsomely green pond frog, and had 20 children. He never saw his friend, Jeremiah the Hose, again.

Life- Day 5

(Reading days 1-4 helps. A lot.)

Things have changed within our watery home.

Those with whom we had once lived in harmony, do begin to swim against our chosen path. They did not understand the calculated decision made the previous day... They saw death, and they saw me. To them, I am one to be feared. None dare swim alone in my midst. Only Frank doth stand by my side, ne'er failing to share a bubble of support to my cause and my dignity.

Oh what great loneliness would be mine, if not for my beloved brother! This world unconquerable, conquered, when together our shadows stand.

May it always be this way.

Life- Day 4

(Starting with day 1- a good idea.)

Today...

I killed a fish.

Think of me how you will. But I feel no remorse, as I do not feel it to have been murder. It was a tragic loss, necessary for the good of the all, and the continued protection of our existence.

I will relate to you the events leading up to the event.

It was no later than twenty minutes after the light shined its brilliance down upon us. The being inside my brother and I (Monster, Fiend, Devil we shall call it!) had begun to sound its morning rage, gnashing against my insides, as would a trapped lion inside an oozing bubble of meat. Patiently swimming along the sides of our world, I waited for that regular grace to fall upon us, the flaky blessing of life let down to satiate the terror and protect my family from the thing inside me.

Wait, I did. As did Frank, my brother.

Perhaps we were being punished for some unknown offence? The reasons, I know not. Yet for whatever sake or... purpose, the gods had in mind... The manna... it did not come today, as regularly expected.

We waited. We WAITED! Longer than you could have known, we waited... dear one... we waited...

But it did not come.

So I made a decision.

Choices, we had two. The first, we wait longer, wait, wait, WAIT until our bodies burst asunder and become devoured from the inside, unleashing that beast upon all else in this world.

Think you for one moment, that THIS decision is one that I would make, simply for the well being of my conscious? Think you, I am one to be so selfish?

I declare to you, and all the world, that upon this day I shed myself of selfishness, and chose a second path... I swam to one spotted, and largest of my brothers, one to whom the gift of intelligence was not so lavishly bestowed. I drifted down, along his underside... his gills fluttering as I glided past... and I bit. Strait up, directly into the neck I sliced with all the strength my still not-yet-fully-developed body could muster, ripping, shaking and writhing as efficiently as I could, bringing a swift end to the unwitting... sacrifice. The mangled body twitched as signs of life diminished. He was dead.

It was not long, however, until my action did draw the attention of mine other brothers, and they did see what I had done. Yet instead of shock, of fear or anger, they seemed to understand what I had done, and immediately commenced in consuming his lifeless body. Seeing Frank with some unrecognizable organ trailing behind his mouth brought peace unto my soul, for I knew he would be safe, as would I.

In memory of that selfless fish, who today, in giving his life saved uncounted multitudes of innocent children (us, for wise as we have become, we are indeed still children), I pronounce a name upon him: Lavie Après Lamort.

In life, he was great.

In noble death, his life shined ever greater.

The flowers of life now bloom in all who were blessed

by his passing.

Now he lives inside us all.

Remember him:

Lavie Après Lamort

Life- Day 3

(Again, if you haven't read days 1 and 2 of Life, this won't make much sense.)

My brother and I have solidified our bond of brotherhood this day, by endowing names upon one another, names to be had for all our lives in this troubling world, and even unto death in another, wherever that may be. For he, I have given a most noble and glorious name, one to stand in the records of heaven forever to be of greatness in strength and reliability, one of trust, of companionship; indeed, one of a true friend. His name shall be Frank! One of boldness in words, fearless to say that what another dares not; bravery hath ne'er stood paralleled by one more worthy of its title.

And I, keeping in mind Frank's mode to communicate, did assist in my naming, and know his wish to call me Peter, Peter the Brother, the brother of Frank. OH SUCH HONOR it is! To be his brother... To be the brother of Frank.

This sacred moment passed, we continued on in our corporeal discoveries. Again I note the containment roundabout, the smallness of it's nature. As in the days before, the beasts within our bodies cried out in anger, but were brought again to peace by blessed gifts from the clouds.

It was upon this topic that I spent the majority of my day dwelling. My question is this: Why? Is there some greater power watching over us, somehow aware of our sad and desperate plight? If so, then why? Why does he care if this unbearable monster bursts forth from our bellies and consumes my brothers roundabout? Why would he care for Frank, in all his strength and perfection? The mystery gives me not a minute's rest, not in sleep, not in swim, and neither in mind nor matter is light shined upon this darkened secret...

Wonder, I do. As previously mentioned, I appreciate this phenomenon with all capacities of my being. Should we show our thanks in some form of outward expression? A prayer of sorts, making the powers responsible aware of our gratitude in sparing our lives from doubtless physical degradation and death? How would this being (or beings) hear our cries? They would need be loud, however they are spoken. I shall attempt on the morrow, upon commencement of the next rain of flaky manna upon our aquatic home.

Life- Day 2

(If you haven't read day 1 yet, you should do that now, before you read day 2. Things might make a bit more sense!)

Today we discovered. We explored our world, and found all there was to find, counted every "living" being (though I doubt their worthiness to be distinguished as "life," as the majority do not act as such, merely floating, eating, pooping, and existing,) and investigated even the green substances protruding from this world's bottom. The results of our analysis: the world in which we live is uncomfortably small, and I begin to suspect a certain "contained" atmosphere about it.

I wish also to relate a certain phenomenon that has now occurred upon two separate occasions, once yesterday, and once today. But before I do, I must first describe another... rather curious, yet... somewhat frightening occurance, one which may have something to do with the phenomenon previously mentioned. My brother and I, having just discovered the disappointing lack of personal hygene among even those who seem to be quite experienced in the mysteries of life, and having invested quite a bit of energy into doing it, realized, to our greatest shock, that it is not only from the mouth that audible communication may burst forth, but also from inside ourselves! I wish not to sound mentally unfit, nor cause unneeded panic, but it is true, and this fact does still plague me with most considerable discomfort.

I worry, for these sounds are not of our own origin. I fear, that by means I do not know or understand, we seem to have contracted some sort of parasitic organism, a leech within our bodies, which when in some way discomforted, utters forth such deep growls, terrifying to any roundabout.

Now, was this sound my only observation, I may have had reason to rejoice, but alas, fate has not granted me such a blessing. It is more- something far more terrible than such ominous utterances of disapproval. I tell you now, that when it's primal urges are not fulfilled, it doth attack, scratching, gnawing, biting, doing all it can to satisfy it's unknown desires. I dare not think on the outcome of prolonged resistance to such torture. I am as a time bomb, I think... could such a horrid thing ever escape me? A monster, released upon the world due to my inability to placate it... I admit, I shudder even now, considering my plight. I must not allow this creature inside both my brother and I to escape. This could be my calling in life... it is a duty I accept most solemnly.

This phenomenon I earlier mentioned, it is one which is difficult to explain. It seems to occur at the pinnacle of these ragings, when this monster's wrath inside becomes most furious... from the heavens above, a manna is sent down, to tame and mollify this mysterious foe. Twice now it has come down, twice now it has saved us. My understanding of this miracle is extremely limited; any attempt of explanation would be, at this point in time, mere conjecture. I must consider this matter further before designating any source. As for now, I can only say that for it, I am extremely grateful.

Life- Day 1

Today I was born. To whatever purpose god had in his most unknown and puzzling mind, I was born apparently not like my brothers and sisters. Not to say I do not resemble them, no, into all the aquatic and fishy ways I was very much born, complete with gills for breathing, eyes for seeing (though quite bequbbled), a mouth, fins, scales, and whatever else it is that distinguishes us as such beings. It is just... as time goes by, I begin to notice a pattern of regular... mindlessness... about my siblings. I beg your pardon for my openness in this observation, and perhaps it is only my own inability to understand them which contributes to my thinking this, but in the already many hours since my hatching, the most interactive sign of remote intelligence I have yet to observe manifested itself in a single well timed bubble released from the mouth of one of my brothers.

As I was in that very moment swimming above him, the released mouth-bubble reached up around my bosom, causing the most curious of sensations as it glided up and around my leftmost fin, and continued it's journey above. Excited by the possibility of intended interaction, I swam down to my shimmering brother, a swelling in my heart incomparable to any I had felt before, my being reached out to him in that one moment of desperate hope... I cried to him, "Brother, my brother! I have felt your signal, your call for companionship! I am here, and together we shall strive to understand this lonely and terrible world, we shall travel together and adventure to the deepest trench and ascend to the greatest of mounts! Together we shall overcome all the cruelties of life, in it's sorrows, it's pains, it's tears, the very abominable pits of despair and hell's dragonous resistance to the progression of our living souls! Together we shall survive, and not just that, but live, thrive, find our happiness, our wives and bear children! As brothers we shall stay together, forging a bond so unbreakable that only the jarring claws of death could ever pull me from your side!"

It was in such a manner that I declared my ultimate allegiance to my comrade, for my fear of living a life in the ultimate darkness of dwelling alone in my sentient state of being had already begun to creep into my fragile bones, not yet overpowering, but indeed present, as an itch under the furthest of scales, unreachable by even the most outstretched of fins. To be alone, even in the most desirable of circumstances, I feel would be the most terrible of fates, one which would presumably lead to my very undoing.

My oath of allegiance complete, I did stare into the eyes of my brother, and he into mine, and it seemed for a time as if his eyes did glimmer, as though his soul did yearn with all extremities of his very capacity to cry out in joy, to celebrate this finding with outward expression as did I- but then, just as I believed the realization had sunken in, to be recognized in it's utmost purity, he did wait... and wait... and wait. My smile of joy did begin to fade, and I admit, the thought had already come, "There now, you (for I have still not yet found a word to call myself), he is just like the others, his mind just as small as those roundabout."

Alas, I was all but given up, when suddenly, as he allowed happen in the time of previous communication, my beloved sibling let a second signal fly: a lone bubble, which I know to have been his way of showing loving approval, his design of saying to me, "Yes, brother, yes! The thrill of my finding of thee doth fill me up with the most wonderful feelings of life! Together we shall go forth, we shall strive together for life and liberty, and always together we shall stay until such jaws you conveyed doth forcefully part us!"

And so I found my brother, and conversed with him the rest of the waking day, and then some, discussing our plans for life, for discovering the world, for learning all there was to learn before we grew old and died, and upon the mention of death, we discussed the meaning thereof, and decided it to be something we should earnestly avoid, and not something to be striven after.

Throughout all such speech, my noble brother was always limited to his simple releasing of mouth bubble, but in doing so, I understood all that he wished to communicate. You see, I soon came to understand, my poor brother does suffer from a certain speech disability, that in such capacities he is all but incapable, stopped though upon the verge of unrequited expression. His only form of expressing his every need, desire, thought or idea, must take the form of that single, fragile bubble, released from the most precious reaches of his undying soul. But as he is my brother, I do swear ne'er to abandon him; his need for me doth not overcome mine for he, for as he hath boldly stated, we are one, and shall be forevermore.

An Intricate Web of Careful Plot and Design

I am an incredibly small thing, thought a spider, as he roamed a forest of moss and leaf, crawling through stick and thicket, over stone and mountainside.

And the world... now that is quite big.

This was a rather important day in the life of this particular being, and being myself, I would like to make this momentous occasion known to the world of you.

Somehow, I am here, he thought. I am significant; I make a difference. I eat a moth, and one million unseen consequences inevitably unfold around me. I do not eat the moth, one million unseen consequences inevitably unfold around us both.

But just as such, if I allow the moth to consume me, one million more unseen consequences will inevitably unfold around him.

The thought intrigued him like none had done before.

What is life? What is death? How can my death be life for another, just as his death means life for myself? Why must there be death in order for there to be life? Is there not a way for us both to have life, without wishing death upon the other?

Just then, a moth landed upon a flower, just inches from his nest.

Good moth, he entreated, have you an answer for a curious spider?

Good spider, he responded, my instincts instruct me to avoid you as if life my depended upon it. My answer is no; for you, I have no answer.

The spider understood this point, but persisted nonetheless.

Good moth, mine inquiry this day pertains to exactly that! MUST we always yield to these frivolous instincts? MUST we live in constant fear of untimely demise, simply for another's hope of continued existence? Dear brother, we are both one in the same innovative mind! Just as another, less philosophically conscious spider may at any moment come down from this tree and impale you without warning, so might a bird do the same to me without trace of mope or quobble! For us, life is a gift, a gift to remain protected.

The spider paused for a moment, giving the moth time to think on these new and possibly revolutionary words. What could the spider be getting at, the moth sat and thought.

Come unto my house. Come, and we shall see what consequences we may unfold, being together, yet not in the name death.

The moth approached slowly. It was indeed an exciting thought: life without fear of at least one, one who he had, just minutes before, marked in his mind as his potential killer.

He flitted to the thicket's edge, and with the utmost caution, stretched out his legs, and touched down upon an intricate web of careful plot and design.

The spider lived happily ever after.

Blog the first, and my uncomfortable and awkward attempt at explaining why I would ever do such a thing.

I am now... BLOGGIBIDADING.

I am inspired.

I am very tired.

It is 1:00 AM,

and I am here.

I believe celebration is in order. You get to read my thoughts now, as often as I want to share them.

Really though people. In all honesty, I have been wanting to do this for over a week now. I realized that facebook just doesn't satisfy my needs to digress on random topics of extreme pertinence to my life (and yours), due to the fact that posting 10 status updates in one day is highly frowned upon, for some reason. I thought that twitter could be my solution. But does anyone else use Twitter? No! Not one person I know actually tweets. So now I use Twitter as my cellular on-the-go msnbc headline resource for late breaking news, and finding out when and where earthquakes have occurred throughout the world. But yes. You see my dilemma. I am like a mime, mute, and trapped in an imaginary box, incapable of releasing my thoughts into the world like a mime, mute, and trapped in an imaginary box.

Its not a good thing.

It is an unhealthy thing.

Thus: Incredulicity.