Moronic Musings

2008-09-18T17:01:00.001-05:00

“If you must write of assassinations, rape, and Ophelia suicides, speak the speech, I pray thee, poetry in your breath, metaphors on your tongue. Remember how glad Iago was to think on Othello’s fall. How, with smiles, Hamlet prepared his uncle’s death.
Shakespeare and my Demon schooled me so: Be not afraid of happiness. It is often the soul of murder.”

That's a quote by Ray Bradbury that I read one time. I've always loved it.

The Day You Died

2008-09-08T16:04:00.002-05:00

Wrote this one several years ago when I found out that my Aunt Thelma had passed away.

The Day You Died

The news hit me like freight train
When they told me that you died
Tears came without ceasing
And I did nothing but cried

I could fill the oceans
With the stories that you told me
It seems life won’t give me a break
And steals my loved ones slowly

My soul's a terrible vacuum
I’ve become an empty void
My prayers are silent on the wind
My hopes and dreams destroyed

Easter was the time of year
I favored above all other
Memories that once held me close
Now desert me like a lost lover

You were my favorite aunt
And I will mourn the loss
Of both the family and the friend
Who through death's river now must cross

Fire and Ice

2008-09-05T19:54:00.001-05:00

New poem. Still horrible. I may use it as a basis to make a blank verse poem.

Fire and Ice

Your hair kissed by flames
Eyes tempered with ice
Wrapped in your arms
Always felt so nice

We run hot
We run cold
Girl, I cried when
Our love turned old

If indifference is
The opposite of love
We've never been that
Always wanting friendship or blood

This leads me to believe
How we act is to disguise
The true feelings left behind
The ones we cover with lies

Everything is Broke

2008-08-22T16:24:00.003-05:00

This is the first draft of a poem. It took all of five minutes, so don't judge too harshly. I know, it sounds sappy, angry emo kid. It probably is. Leave a comment, or don't. Without further adieu.

Everything is Broke

The world’s gone grey

My soul’s caught fire

Nothing in my life

Has ever consumed me with such a desire

A long for the days

Wrapped in your sweet embrace

When I could see you

And touch your face

I’ve tried to hold back,

To keep my emotions in check

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do

For even just a peck

Frivolous things fill my time,

Trying to drive back the memory and pain

If only something would work

And keep me relatively sane

Frustration

2008-07-20T18:06:00.002-05:00

Ok, so I may re-tool my blog. Still include fiction but branch out to other topics as well. In that spirit today I'm going to discuss one of my frustrations with Ubuntu.

Before I go any further... I love Ubuntu. In an age where one must choose between Microsoft which charges too much for software and Apple which charges too much for hardware (and doesn't allow you to use their operating system on any other hardware); Ubuntu is a wonderful (read: free) alternative that can do almost anything you want.

My frustration comes from my inability to easily uninstall Evolution (the email reader that comes with Ubuntu) You can uninstall the program, but that requires you to uninstall Ubuntu Dashboard. So I hope you have shortcuts to everything on your desktop if you do this. However reinstalling Dashboard automatically re-installs Evolution.

I came to Linux to only use software I wanted. And not have to uncheck all the stupid updates for the program I don't use. Oh well, rant over.

Back in the Saddle

2008-07-07T16:53:00.002-05:00

Collin sent me the link to his new blogspot. That reminded me that I already had one... among my many, many forgotten blogs I've started and stopped. But this one is special because it has always been an outlet for my creative writing (sometimes funny, sometimes scary, sometimes obscure). I'll go through my notebooks and see if I have an fresh stories to post. I like to write a lot about a nice little Truck Stop in Bliss, TX. Lucidia County to be specific. It's completely made, so are all it's characters. If they happen to be going through the same situations as you... well I can't help it if you live in my head. My best friend knows that I don't even know how my stories are going to end until they do.

I think I may start posting some of my old fantasy work.

Peace, Love, Puma.

Break Stuff

2006-10-03T17:40:00.000-05:00

Something I whipped up just now. Enjoy

===

Ever have one of those mornings? The kind where you look in the mirror and no longer recognize yourself. On mornings like that, I stare at the stranger in the mirror and wonder what his story is, how he got to be in my bathroom with my face. I want to ask him why his eyes are blood shot and why he looks like the world has crumbled. He's not supposed to feel that way... I'm not supposed to feel that way.

I throw the tooth brush holder at the bathroom mirror and the glass sprays in a thousand different directions. Three of the shards nick my face... nick the stranger's face. I smirk, that condecending one that I get when I know I'm right and the other person is wrong. I win, I destroyed the stranger, except that he's hiding in the next mirror.

By noon, I've successfully destroyed ever single mirror I own. I've even swept up the glass and thrown it away so that the stranger can't jump out of the shards. My smile returns. It's been weeks since I've done that. No smiles, no happiness. Those things are reserved for the good people of the world. And I'm not one of those good people.

Sure everyone down at the Truckstop thinks I'm a saint. They've even taken to calling me 'Preach,' pretty soon everyone in town used that name for me too. They only see what I let them. Nobody wants to see what's under the surface. That would scare them.

Stacey Lee has tried. I don't even let her in anymore.

I wipe my hand across my face. It's been nearly a week since I've shaved. No one says anything, no one will say anything. Not on a day like today. I turn twenty-one as of 5:23 this afternoon. Stacey Lee is supposed to take me some place tonight. She joked around a couple of years ago about taking me drinking on my twenty-first birthday, she never reckoned I'd take her up on it.

But today I will. It's one of those days where I don't want to follow the rules anymore. I'll leave in a few minutes. Stacey Lee will be at the Truckstop, she's always at the Truckstop.

It's Just Lunch

2006-08-06T14:04:00.000-05:00

I wrote this piece for a creative writing class about a year and a half ago. It was a writing excercise in which we were given a setting and a couple of words, but the story could be no more than 300 words. A little harder than it sounds. So here's the story, "It's Just Lunch."

Boring, Kelly thought. She had flown out to Salina, Kansas from Austin, Texas to meet this guy her morther raved about. She wanted him to be her saving grace, he salvation from a life of servitude to the corporate world. Instead he rambled on about his hardware store and what light bulbs would save her money in her apartment. He asks her id something's bothering her, she seemed distant. She set down her glass, just now realizing exactly how long she had been holding it. THe ice had melted and condensation dripped on the table. She looked at him he had on a black silk tie that clashed with his brown belt and shoes. He fiddled with a cheap pair of cuff links on his white dress shirt. He dressed up to impress her she knew. There wasn't a snowball's chance in a Texas drought that he wore those clothes to work everyday. But how to tell him she'd rather jab a screwdriver through her eyes than listen to him for another minute. Her mother would beat her till doomsday if she broke this man's heart. It's not ladylike to do such things, that's what loose women do her mother would always say. If her mother only knew that she lost her virginity in her mother's bed on her didteenth birthday. Kelly smiled and uttered the hardest words of her life. Sure she's see him tomorrow night so he could wish her well before she left Tuesday morning. He told her that he needed to get back to work, the employees never did there jobs when he took a long lunch. He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. Looks like she's need that screwdriver after all.

Home Again

2006-07-11T17:46:00.000-05:00

I'm back from the Camp Meeting... it was very uplifting to see so many familiar places. The best way I can describe our Summer CMs is like a big family reunion. I have many friends that I only get to see one week out of the year.

I'm going to be doing some writing this afternoon, I think I'll put up a story about Jaeger. So y'all can sit tight till then.

Camp Meeting

2006-06-30T17:47:00.000-05:00

I'm leaving for a week to go to a Gospel Meeting. But to whet the appetite of those who found this site in the mean time, I'm posting another old story. This is from some of my Star Wars characters that don't get much exposure. I don't play any of them, but I still wanted to write down their stories. Keep in mind that I do not own SW, it belongs to George Lucas, I'm just borrowing it for a bit.

"I Gotta Stop Pointing Guns at People"

"Put the gun down and no one else will get hurt." The calm voice did anything but match the carnage that surrounded it. Dyn glanced at Dojii, his green insides still oozing from the Verpine's exoskeleton. Next to the slicer lay Esseri, her eyes now glassy and lifeless. Still Dyn aimed his DH-17 at Vigo Atrin like his life depended on it, indeed it did. A squadron of armor-clad soldiers nervously fingered their weapons waiting for the Vigo to give them the order to open fire.

The entire plan had gone to Nustafar the minute that the group arrived on Asteroid B-1533. That particular asteroid was home to the biggest casino on the Outer Rim... and still controlled by the Black Sun. Months of planning and several liver were scattered about the hangar floor. But the casino's credits were safely aboard the Transport Wayfarer, a ship Esseri had stolen specifically for this job.

"You didn't really think you'd get away with this, did you, Mr. Grimmer? Not you and your rag-tag Outlaw Alliance," Atrin taunted. The Vigo shook his head. "Really, a group of a few thieves and smugglers against the entire Black Sun. I'm actually suprised you all made it this far."

The metal of the loading ramp clanged loudly as Dyn walked back down off the ship. Every sound echoed throughout the cavernous hangar. The wounded slicer and the dead Esseri were both too far away. Dyn would never be able to get them back to the ship before the guards opened fire. Dyn never took the gun off Atrin.

"You killed my friends. Snuffed out their lives as if it meant nothing. Then you mock their sacrifice? Don't forget that you'll be as dead as a Kryat Dragon on Hoth before your friends could do anything about it." Dyn's voice was hoarse and cracked, he had been up for three standard days and the adreniline pumping through his blood stream was the only thing keeping him from falling over.

The Vigo's smile said "go to mustafar." "You shouldn't blame me, Mr. Grimmer, it was your own sentient that betrayed you."

Dyn's eyes narrowed and his upper lip curled back like a rabid Kath hound. "None, of my men would ever betray me." The Outlaw Alliance stuck together, if they didn't any number of groups could easily dislodge them from power on Nar Shaddaa. The anger at that charge alone almost caused Dyn to pull the trigger.

"But it's true." The Vigo pressed his luck, assuming that he had the upper hand. "Mr. Maverick, please show your friend that I'm not a liar." The Vigo spat the word friend revealing the mockery he believed griendship to be. The guards stipped aside to make a path for the tall Falleen bounty hunter known only in the Basic tongue as Maverick.

Esseri had begged Dyn not to let the ex-Black Sun assassin in on the job. She knew then that the Falleen would be a traitor. Dyn shifted his aim from Vigo Atrin to Maverick. The bounty hunter was the reason it all went SOuth. "You don't deserve to live." Tears streamed down his face. How could one of the Outlaw Alliance betray them?

"You don't just stop being Black Sun, Dyn. It's not a social club that people just rotate their way in and out of." The reptilian's cold voice disgusted Dyn. Trying to justify betrayal always did. Maverick turned his attention to the Vigo, ignoring the blaster Dyn had trained on him. "That being said, Vigo, I must request that you ask your ment to lower their weapons."

Before the Vigo had time to protest, Dyn noticed the cap of the pen in Vigo Atrin's breast pocket flashing red. Maverick held up a small cylindrical device that he was depressing the button on. "I'm afraid that if I take the pressure off this button, everyone within ten meters of the Vigo will meet a very explosive end." The savage grin, that only a Falleen could make, spread across his face. Echos filled the hangar as all the guards tossed down their weapons. They weren't paid enough to lay down their lives for the Black Sun.

"You fools, you think that the coward would kill himself? THe Black Sun will have all of your lives when they hear about this." The Vigo's voice finally shattered the calm personna that he tried to display.

Dyn holstered his blaster for the first time in hours. A lungful of air escaped his lips as the last part of the plan came together flawlessly. The smuggler ran over to Esseriand put his ear over her mouth. SHe was alive, but just barely. He struggled to drag Dojii and Esseri to the Wayfarewr as Maverick made sure the guards didn't jump him.

"You're not going to report this to the Black Sun," Maverick said. "We only took the money that you skim off the top. The Sun's cut is still in the vault." Maverick walked backwards up the boarding ramp. "You'd be a bigger fool that you look if you contacted your bosses about this."

As the boarding ramp closed Maverick tossed the bomb trigger out into the hangar. The Vigo and the guards flinched as it hit the ground and the pen exploaded. Ink ran down the Vigo's pocket. The Wayfarer shot off into space.

Writer's Block

2006-06-29T21:33:00.000-05:00

I sat down tonight to do some writing... not really because I normally set writing time aside like I should, but because I have an urge to write something. The only problem is I'm not able to get the words out of my head. I tend to have this problem alot. I know what I want to say, but I can't seem to make it come out right. Grr!!! I don't even know what character I want to focus on tonight. I have many... I just don't know.

For the passerbys, how do y'all solve writer's block? Anything special that you do? I have a whole host of writing excercises but I never can seem to find one that I want to do. I have about half a dozen stories that I've started on and never finished, but I can't seem to find a muse to smile on me.

I RP (role play) at a site called the Gungan Council. I have about three characters that are currently active there (well they would be if I was currently active, but RL has given me little time... and also took away that creative outlet for me). Here's a brief synopsis of what's going on in their worlds. BTW TGC is a Star Wars RP community.

Skelosh Delaroche: my main character that I've had since May of 2002. I'd have to say that he's the one that I love the most. He's an albino human that grew up on Kashyyyk. He turned to the Darkside after his father was killed by a Sith assassin. Recently he just made Sith Master, which has me very excited. He's also just found a book that he's been searching for since late 2002. The book is On Future Sight by Darth Sidious. Skelosh has been obsessed with unlocking the keys to knowing the future before it happens. Recently his financee returned to Ziost with the hopes of resuming their relationship, which has been on the rocks for months, but now that Skelosh is so close to his goal, he can't have Aurelia interfering.

Jaeger Delaroche: Skelosh's unknown, until recently, nephew. It's a long story, but Jaeger has been running around the galaxy with the heiress Kassidy Wayne (who just so happens to be Aurelia's little sister). Jaeger is torn between starting his training as a Sith and continuing to run around the galaxy with the woman of his dreams.

Solek Cole: This brings me to my Imperial sniper. I wanted to have a non-Force using character in my lineup and at the time I had just read the historical fiction book Sharpshooter so I based the character off of the antihero in the book. It may have been bad timing because that was also in the middle of the D.C. Sniper stuff that was going on. Solek doesn't really have many grand plans as of yet. He's in the Special Ops squadron, and is enjoying paying the Republic back for killing his family. I'm still looking for a place to go with him characterwise.

Stacey Lee

2006-06-29T16:19:00.000-05:00

I originally wrote this on September 6, 2005. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I wanted to hear Stacey Lee's story. Stacey Lee is a character of mine from the town of Bliss, Texas in the ficitional Lucidia County. I'tried to type it up word for word, but I'm sure many of you know how hard it is to do that. So it has a few tweaks here and there. I'd like to one day turn it into a short story, but I'm not ready for everything in it to come to pass just yet. Enjoy!

"Stupid Preach," I said. I sat in the smoke filled Truck Stop staring at my lit book. Yet again I felled my lungs with the cylinder of bliss. Of Bliss, get it? I bought them just in the other room at the Bliss Truck Stop. "Turn that song off, Jolene!" Always playing that same stupid Kenny Rogers song. So what? I know when to hold them, and when to fold 'em, and it hasn't helped me yet. Besides the song reminds me of Preach, it was playing the first time he walked in this place. Course it's always playing.

I took one look at that wide-eyed kid and the Bible he carried, and dubbed him "Preach." I told him that he looked like the preacher down at the Pentacostal Church on Ophelia Drive with that big black book. ~~I know what you're thinking, a church on Ophelia Drive? Yeah, the engenieers sure liked their Shakespeare. But back to the kid who came in with his Bible.~~ He told me that the Lord is not mocked, then sat down in the booth next to mine. Booth number twenty-three, I'll never forget that number. "Oh, but I'm not mocking God, I'm mocking you." That seemed to shut him up. He just looked at me with that smug look. The look that said he didn't have to make a comeback to still win. He drank some coffee, read some in that bog, black Bible, then left the same way he came it... with barely a word.

After hald a dozen weeks, some where theres about, I came to find out that Preach attended LCC. Lucidia County College, is the nearest place for higher education and the geniuses who built it put it clear across the county where nothing but cows live. Even the hogs know to stay out of the Southwest corner of the county most of the time. That tidbit of knowledge came in mighty handy when gas jumped to two and a half dollars a gallon. Having someone to carpool with was a lot easier on the checkbook. But that didn't always prove to be the best of ideas. Stupid Preach, always trying to talk to me about religion. About how Jesus died for my sins. "What a crack," I told him. All churches are interested in is gettering your hard earned money, not the eternal resting place of my soul. They can spout it all they want, but I've known too many of them.

I do believe there was a time when that boy was in love with me. Why shouldn't he be. I'm everything his precious church ain't. I cuss, drink, smoke, and fornicate. Fornicate was the nice word preach used for what I did. I'm one of those "carnal" girls that his mommy warned him about. But even while he was in love with me, it wasn't lustful like every other fool in this town. Agape is what he called it, a concern for my soul. For my soul. My eternal life... or death. Sure I would've went to bed with him if he wanted. One lay's as good as another, right? Well, depends on the guy. Never would have dated him though, or courted as he often refered to it. He didn't ever look at my lewdly--lewdly there's a ten cent term for you. The most he ever did was try to kiss me.

Ironically enough it was the first and only time he had ever been drunk. He missed my lips comepletely, the poor kid. We were parked over a Quanah's Ridge, just South of the Truck Stop. I took him up there for his twenty-forst birthday. Only two weeks before I told him that I'd show him some fun when he became a man. I never expected him to take me up on it though. My kind of fun and Preach's are as different as poker and Scrabble. But that night he came to me, so I introduced him to my buddy Mr. Daniels. Now let me tell you, the three of us had a hoot. That is till Preach leaned over and tried to kiss me. So drunk he could barely sit up straight, and he tried to kiss me. That boy turned beet red. He jumped in his truck, Betsy, and fired her up.

The errie sound of his truck on the dark night seemed to last forever. By the time I sobered up enough to realize what had happened, Preach was long gone. I caught up to him about a mile outside of town. Betsy plowed headlong into a tree. Preach lay slumped over, his seat belt holding him upright. He just lay there. It didn't matter how loud I hollared, or how hard I shook him, he just wouldn't move. Next to him in the seat lay that big, black Bible. He had the thing open to the fifth chapter of Galatians. The Bible now was sprinkled with blood like when the high priest would sprinkle the blood of bulls and goats on the altar in the tabernacle.

Stupid Preach. The ambulance arrieved thirty minuets later. Preach's official time of death is recorded at twelve ten on August ninth. In reality it's much closer to August eighth and eleven thirty. There's no sense in sharing that with his mom though. Who wants to know that their son died on his birthday? Three days later I went to the funeral. Preach's mom gave me that big black Bible, she said I was his best friend. Some friend I am, he's dead because of me. Stupid Preach.

I had to "convince" the officers, but I talked the police into leaving the fact that Preach was drunk out of the reports. They all say that he fell asleep. The only time in my life that my skin felt like it was on fire. Later on I flipped through Preach's notes. He really was concerned about me. Every where I looked in that book it said, "show this verse to Stacey Lee," "Lord, please help me prick this girl's heart," and the like.

The very next Sunday I showed up at the little Church of Christ on the corner of Iago and Laertes. The one that he always talked about. Last night I was baptized there. It took the most Christ-like man I've ever known to die in sin for me to get it. I never understood the message until then. Stupid Preach.

"Jolene, I said to turn off that song."

2006-06-29T15:59:00.000-05:00

I don't exactly need another blog... I have too many already that I don't keep up with. I intend to use this one to talk about some of my writings, maybe I'll post a few flash fictions and some journaling for my characters. Most everything will be work in progress, but this could be a good outlet. Some of you may know me as Skelosh Dlearoche from Ezboard... or one of the many other SNs I went under. For the rest of you, that means a bit of it will be SW related. I can't help it I'm just a geek like that.

Other vitals are I'm 21, I originally hail from Ft. Worth, Texas. But I'm now going to MSU in Wichita Falls. I'm technically a junior but I won't be graduating for a couple and a halfish years. Currently I'm an Accounting major, but I've also held History, Psychology, Sociology, and Theatre as majors. I have the most wonderful girlfriend that I could imagine. She's a Junior in college as well and transfering to MSU in the Fall. For some reason God dropped her in my lap and I thank Him for her every day.

I doubt I'll have any more posts for more than a week because Saturday I'm heading to Arkansas for a week. It's the Summer Camp Meeting. Basically a week long Gospel meeting. This site might not get updated as often as I like but I plan on trying to update at least weekly with some sort of work.

Please don't plagarize my stories. Believe it or not... I do work on them, and spend a lot of time on them.

Have a wonderful weekend. Thanks for stopping by!