Blogspot. That was all Norman had on his mind. To share with the world your babble of words, in a loosely constructed manor. To blog, to be blogged, to have blogged, to the blogiest to the max. There was nothing wrong with blogging in particular, but Norman did have a shred of dignity left. What if everything was laid bare? How could he live with himself? Blogging was meant to be a mere pastime, rather than something that consumed him. Norman chucked. Consumed him? What did he think a blog was? It's just a little jot of ink on the computer screen. Just a little pebble on the road. No one would ever even see it. Unless they perhaps looked one day. Blog were meant to be seen, but only by those in the know. In the fold. In the weather. Inside the Armageddon. There is nothing where there is nothing and there is something where there are pieces. Pieces of memories, of blogs. Spots.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Released

 My notes got scattered. Someone saw. I don't know what to do anymore. Perhaps I should stop posting. What happened happened. There's no use blaming yourself for the past. Unless you learn from that blame. Whoever said blame was useless? It's an emotion that exists for a reason. Well... is blame an emotion? Perhaps. It's an action. A feeling. A way to convince yourself something happened for a reason. What reason? Well... It could be any number of things. Narrow it down. My notes got scattered. Why? How were they lying about? Oh, I remember. I was the one who scattered them.
Read more

Nothing

 To be is not to be. 'Tis true and 'tis just. What is meant to happen shall happen, I just want you to know who I am. Who am I? A legend. A myth. A man. A cat. A bat. A hat. A rat. A flat tire. A spire. An intrigued cello. A violin offtune. A guitar offbeat. A traintrack untracken. When everything's made to be broken, what is meant to last? Dun dun dun dun. Dadadada. And I don't want the world to see me, cause I don't want to expose myself to ridicule. But specific people, connection can be achieved. A lesson. A plan. A game. A lyric. A think. A drink. Apart. Part A. Listen. Part B. Repeat. Part A. Listen. Part B. Repeat. Part A. Listen. Part B. Repeat. Part A. Listen. Part B. Repeat. Part Y. Party.
Read more
 Outside the paprefu lies the nether. In the nether there are endermen and snakes and viles and stakes. Stick and stones and puppy dog tails. Sugar and spice and everything nice. It's all there. But what isn't there? Love. You need the paprefu to have love. Otherwise you have static. Stagnant static that picks up noises on radio signals. Norman Holmes had enough evidence. He was going to trial today. What he had collected had been found and what he had not collected had been lost. His memories were scattered, but coherent enough to show the truth. What was the truth? You may ask. Well, let the jury decide. Judge, jury and executioner. Norman paled at the thought. Why couldn't there be a disconnect? No one person should have such power. Power corrupts. Corruption, while some may deem is necessary, is not necessary. It is vile and wrong and boiled and Hongmeng would disapprove. In dreams Norman pictures himself in the court case, giving his opening statement. The opposing def...
Read more