chu_totoro

there lived a hamster in a shell

and outside the shell he could see many other hamsters, some in shells, some not, some's shells translucent, some completely colored in, some with shell bits hanging off of their fur, scuttling around happily all the same

the hamster could talk to all (most) of these other hamsters

the hamster admired some of the other hamsters, particularly those who had no shell, those who seemed able to speak and laugh and say all the right things at all the right time. hamster could never do that. hamster made friends with other hamsters in pink translucent shells, and they rolled around together and jostled each other playfully on the hamster wheels, but never close, never hard, because of the shells in the way

one day, a shell-less hamster that hamster loved very much fell off a ravine and was never seen again

much, much later, years later, hamster shattered his own shell with his tail and ventured out shell-less into the world, sniffing cautiously this way and that

and looking at his shell bits on the ground, he began to cry and cry and cry

because he finally realized that breaking the shell was not a magical key to some fantastic world of freedom and joy and love (although it certainly helped you steer)

he finally realized that that hamster, whom he loved and admired so very much

was just another hamster

doing his best, venturing bravely into the world, getting hurt and thwarted like everyone else (maybe worse, because shell-less ones take the full force of the blow), and simply smiling and joking and tucking his tail in and standing up again, each time

he was just another hamster, doing his best

and now hamster could never learn his story

story 67

once there lived two squirrels together up in a tree.

one day the boy squirrel heard tell of a group trip to acorn heaven. he became very excited and raced back to tell the girl squirrel , but she wasn’t interested. the boy squirrel had to make plans himself.

throughout the week he scurried about, packing up and preparing for the big trip. the girl squirrel watched in silence.

the watching began to make the boy squirrel uncomfortable. he began to worry about the girl squirrel spending so much time home alone. would she manage? he fussed over this, he fussed over that. finally, the day before the trip, he went to the travel group and announced he wasn’t going. he would go next time.

feeling chipper, the boy squirrel scurried home. the girl squirrel wasn’t there, which was strange, but that’s okay, he would tell her later.

twenty minutes later, the girl squirrel came home. nose-twitching and teary-eyed, she admitted that she had signed up last minute to join the trip so she could be with him.

so the girl squirrel ended up going to acorn heaven with the travel group. she saw many cool things, had many fun experiences, and, above all, ate many acorns. the other squirrels were friendly and helpful and she made many friends. but she could never completely enjoy herself. every time she saw something new, tried something different, tasted something exotic, the one that she wanted to share it with... wasn’t there. and her heart hurt.

when she finally returned, she was startled to discover that the boy squirrel, in the monotony of days alone, had moved in with a different squirrel.

because those who follow always find themselves chasing... and chasing... and chasing...

and those who decide always... find it easier to walk away.

fin.

.referenced

( story 66 )

boy am I feeling crabby today. extremely tired for no reason whatsoever.

pah.

edit: also, can someone enlighten me as to who the hell Megan Kao, Thomas Denq, Lisa Asai, and Katherine Moran are? some of the names sound vaguely familiar, but nothing more than that.

edit2: I am of the opinion that once someone has gotten onto your annoying list, they become annoying even when they're not particularly annoying. I have come up with a psychological theory for this, based off of classical conditioning and Pavlov's dog.

( theory )

boy I AM cranky today. waffle essay coming up in a bit.

( stoof )

story 65

once upon a time two cats were in love. but they quibbled all the time which lead to shouting and scratching and catfights, which made them both very unhappy. they went to a wise old cat for advice. "ah," said she. "you are too much alike. like repels like, my dears. opposites attract." so the cats split up. opposites attract, thought one. i will go find my opposite, then. she was sweet and shy and pretty and a cat, so she found a big mean vicious drooling dog. can't get more opposite than that.

but,

that's strange, thought she. i don't feel attracted to him at all.

then the dog woke up, saw her, and ate her.

the end.

Current Mood: thoughtful

story 63

once a wheel sat at the top of a hill. then, a breath of wind blew it and with agonizing slowness it moved and twitched, and began rolling down the hill. the slope was wide and smooth and empty, and nothing was there to hinder its way, so it rolled faster, and faster, and faster. and as it rolled faster the slope got steeper, and as the slope got steeper it rolled faster, and ever it continued on thus. there was no way to stop it. there had been no way to stop it, once the breath of wind sent it on its beginnings down the hill. small obstacles it would roll over, maybe bounce a bit or fly sidewise, but until it rolled to the end of the hill, wherever that may be, and slammed into the concrete wall and burst into a million shattered, jagged pieces, it could not be stopped.

the end.

edit:

story 64

so! far in the future, these scientists, they did this research and came up with an astounding new technology! a human, according to them, was composed of three parts: body, mind, and spirit. while the body couldn't be interchanged (it's the body. the other two parts are inside of it, how can you exchange bodies?), nor the mind (well, technically it could, with v. advanced computer surgeons and a lot of blood, but too repulsive a thought to pursue), they discovered a way, a most wondrous method, to interchange the spirit of two people for a time. in essence, their spirits will inhabit each other's body and mind temporarily. not quite spirit precisely, but more of consciousness. to say, if it were between you and me, right now you recognize yourself as you, whoever you are, but when they do the switch your awareness of self will suddenly become me, and you will now possess my body and my mind. a very interesting study, it was. they asked for volunteers for the test run, and immediately got two people eager to try it out.

alas! they performed the experiment. but now that you had become me and i had become you, you could not remember ever not being me and i could not remember ever not being you, so instead of being amazed at the technology, instead the two squabbled and were irate at the technicians, believing it did not work. the technicians were very confused, because the computer said it did. yet when they switched the two back, still they knew nothing of it.

the amazing new invention was an utter failure. pity.

the end.

edit2: Waking too early is laaaaame. I started English off all right, was getting sort of tired during lunch, and now I'm really really tired. >< As a result, my homework poem is v. morbid. but then again, what'd you expect, with required phrases like "flickering flame" and "scarlet lady" and "smoking pyre." _ _;;

( yawn )

Current Mood: crazy

story 62

once there lived a little girl who was really smart, and had such a high IQ that she probably could've achieved any goal she decided to go after. but she was insecure, and nervous, and shy, and the bullies made fun of her because she was fun to make fun of, and she was too insecure to ever contradict them, so she was made fun of for the rest of her life and never achieved any goals because she didn't have any. the end.

story 59

“mom! dad! save me! save me! i’ve been abducted by robbers and they want a ransom!”

there was a pause on the other end of the line.

“some prank call,” he heard vaguely over the phone. he wasn’t sure if he’d heard right. his hand was shaking too much, and there was a gun pressed to the small of his back. all he could feel was cold, hard metal and the beads of sweat running slowly down his forehead.

click.

when the robbers found out no one loved this kid, they spat on him. then, not having any further use for him, they took turns punching or kicking him to let out their wrath, and, when they had beaten him to death, threw his body in a ditch.

the end.

edit: ( two more )

( storage )

edit: wow. when I was a kid, I excelled at sight reading. now I fail at it.

edit2: if I'd known beforehand how little I was going to get done tonight, I'd have gone to jazz cabaret. --;;

I'ma going to fail theory tomorrow. ><

The Little Prince

A long, long time ago, in a faraway kingdom, there lived a king, a queen, and their six sons. Each son was handsomer than the next, with golden locks and sky blue eyes, all except the sixth. He, for some unfathomable reason, possessed snow-white skin, ebony-black hair, and rose-red cheeks, which henceforth marked him as the fairest of them all.

Now the little prince, in his youth, was merry and gay and frolicked with his five brothers, and all who looked upon them felt a profound joy and lightness in their hearts. However, as he grew older and more mature, the frown of unhappiness began to darken his brows. For he looked about him, and perceived how men grovelled before his father, and dared not to obstruct his way, or to contradict any of his remarks, however carelessly and ridiculously they were flung out. Worse, he saw how men were beginning to behave thus around him and his brothers, and it troubled him sorely. His teachers worried, and knew not what ailed him, and to punish them the king had them sent to jail, a week before the eldest brother’s coming of age.

The eldest brother’s sixteenth birthday came and passed, with a grand celebration and a great feast within the castle, but the entire time the little prince sat silent in a corner, brooding upon the fate of his teachers.

Soon enough it was the second brother’s turn, and he insisted upon festivals out in the courtyard. The little prince spent the time trying to figure out why a poor whipping boy had been whipped when it was he who had broken the plates.

The third brother’s birthday coincided with a national holiday, and the entire kingdom stayed awake that night to watch the fireworks with him.

The fourth brother was a quiet lad, and held a modest affair within the palace.

The fifth brother, just the opposite, threw a grand one-night ball, for which princesses and ladies and beautiful girls came from all over the world to honour the deed. The little prince got very dizzy halfway through the loud music and whirling dresses, and was forced to retire to his chambers.

Another long year crept by, and at last! it was the little prince’s turn. On the celebrated day, however, he chanced to be on a royal ship with the rest of his brothers, and the revels were held directly aboard. He enjoyed himself very much, and for the first time in a great while, the dark, brooding look vanished from his brows and he was again gay and merry. But, getting carried away, he accidentally tripped over his own feet and went flying in a very comical fashion, whereupon he burst out in delighted laughter. Yet he heard the laugh ring empty for a moment, in a room full of silence, and though the next second all were guffawing with him, he perceived that the laughter was false, and that none dared to laugh unless he laughed first. Then he was again unhappy, and slipped out of the festivities to ponder at the stern of the ship.

He stood against the edge of the ship and stared out into the heaving darkness, and stayed that way for a very long time, thinking. Then all at once he beheld a maiden in the water, with skin as clear and delicate as a rose-leaf, and eyes as blue as the deepest sea. Mouth dropping open, he leaned forward for a better look, but all he saw was the glimmer of a fish’s tail as she plunged back into the darkness. Then he looked down into the water, and fancied he saw a castle, and fishes gliding between the most singular plants, and six most astonishing underwater flowerbeds beneath the sea. The next moment his fancyings were lost in the roiling of the dark water, but the image remained etched in his mind. “Ah, if I could but live there!” sighed he. For he fancied the underwater world a place happy and free, and without the falseness of people who live only to please the king.

Then, as the noises of the festivities grew loud behind him, and he heard the entire court howling with laughter at his fifth brother’s joke, he abruptly made up his mind, and dived into the water.

Alas! The sea was the sea, and not a place for land-dwellers. Immediately the little prince began to choke, and to flail, and floundered about in the water. Then, as his movements began to still and his life seep from him, he dreamed a pair of eyes as blue as the deepest sea staring into his own. Then as he wavered back and forth between consciousness, he thought he was being gently pushed along the waves, but he couldn’t be sure. When he awoke, he was on the shores of his own country again.

The people found him thus, and they brought him back to the palace, where he could rest and regain his health. This he did-- but never for a moment did he forget the beautiful maiden with the fish’s tail, or the mirage he saw beneath the sea.

At length, troubled and unhappy, he set off to seek advice from a wise crone, who was said to know the answers to all questions in the world. As soon as he reached her, he spilt out to her all that he had seen, and pleaded for advice.

“Hold your tongue,” said the crone. “I know why you have come, and you are a very stupid boy indeed, to want a fish’s tail and to live beneath the sea, but it can be done.” She cackled very unpleasantly, and continued, “At a price, of course. You will lose your immortal soul - fool of a boy! - and trade it in for the brief, flashing life of an underwater creature. Oh, yes, they can live for three hundred years, but what of that? After that they shall never be reborn, but become mere foam swirling on the waves of the sea!”

“I am willing to pay the price,” said the brave little prince.

“And, of course, there is my payment to think of... well, I’ll say, as you shan’t be able to use your voice below water anyway, I shall accept that as payment and keep it here with me, always.” At this she flourished a cracked glass jar, green and brown inside with dried dust and lichen, and patted it lovingly.

“I am willing to pay the price,” repeated the brave little prince.

“Wait, I am not yet done. For every movement you make beneath the water, the salt shall sting your lovely snow-white skin like a million pins and needles, though nothing show itself on the surface. Are you willing to suffer that?”

“I am willing to pay the price,” repeated the little prince for the third time, whereupon the crone haggled him no more, but set about with her pots and pans, humming a despicable tune to herself, and presently came up with a potion in a vial.

“Drink this at sundown tonight and leap into the sea, and you shall get your wish,” said she. Then she put a finger upon the little prince’s throat, and of a sudden he was mute, for his voice had gone into the old crone’s dirty glass jar. But he smiled, and nodded politely to thank her, and hurried off with his potion.

At sundown, then, the little prince stood upon the reefs of the shore and drained his potion in one gulp, and bravely, without any hesitation, he leaped into the sea.

Alas! At once he felt himself dissolving, and moments later he was nothing but the white flecks of foam swirling on the crests of the waves, for the crone had lied. It was not within her power to do such a transformation, and the little prince had given his immortal soul for naught.

2313 edit: ( drabble writeboard epilogue thing, of a sort )

2318 edit: Hans Christian Anderson has a depressing effect on me. _ _;; but I like him a lot more than the Grimms.

Look! writeboard! Password: lyrical. If you feel like writing, it's a good place to go. :D Anyone can contribute (I think...)

(from English class)

The Politically correct: Little Red Riding Hood
Anonymous

There once was a young person named Red Riding Hood who lived with her mother on the edge of a large wood. One day her mother asked her to take a basket of fresh fruit and mineral water to her grandmother's house -- not because this was womyn's work, mind you, but because the deed was generous and helped engender a feeling of community. Furthermore, her grandmother was not sick, but rather was in full physical and mental health and was fully capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult.

So Red Riding Hood set off with her basket of food through the woods. Many people she knew believed that the forest was a foreboding and dangerous place and never set foot in it. Red Riding Hood, however, was confident...

On her way to Grandma's house, Red Riding Hood was accosted by a Wolf, who asked her what was in her basket. She replied, "Some healthful snacks for my grandmother, who is certainly capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult."

The Wolf said, "You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone."

Red Riding Hood said, "I find your sexist remark offensive in the extreme, but I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an outcast from society, the stress of which has caused you to develop your own, entirely valid worldview. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way."

Red Riding Hood walked on along the main path. But, because his status outside society had freed him from slavish adherence to linear, Western-style thought, the Wolf knew of a quicker route to Grandma's house. He burst into the house and ate Grandma, an entirely valid course of action for a carnivore such as himself. Then, unhampered by rigid, traditionalist notions of what was masculine or feminine, he put on grandma's nightclothes and crawled into bed.

Red Riding Hood entered the cottage and said, "Grandma, I have brought you some fat-free, sodum-free snacks to salute you in your role of a wise and nurturing matriarch."

From the bed, the Wolf said softly, "Come closer, child, so that I might see you."

Red Riding Hood said, "Oh, I forgot you are as optically challenged as a bat. Grandma, what big eyes you have!"

"They have seen much, and forgiven much, my dear."

"Grandma, what a big nose you have -- only relatively, of course, and certainly attractive in its own way."

"It has smelled much, and forgiven much, my dear."

"Grandma, what big teeth you have!"

The Wolf said, "I am happy with and what I am," and leaped out of bed. He grabbed Red Riding Hood in his claws, intent on devouring her. Red Riding Hood screamed, not out of alarm at the Wolf's apparent tendency toward cross-dressing, but because of his willful invasion of her personal space.

Her screams were heard by a passing woodchopper-person (or log-fuel technician, as he preferred to be called). When he burst into the cottage, he saw the melee and tried to intervene. But as he raised his ax, Red Riding and the Wolf both stopped.

"And what do you think you're doing?" asked Red Riding Hood.

The woodchopper-person blinked and tried to answer, but no words came to him.

"Bursting in here like a Neanderthal, trusting your weapon to do your thinking for you!" she said. "Sexist! Speciesist! How dare you assume that womyn and wolves can't solve their own problems without a man's help!"

When she heard Red Riding Hood's speech, Grandma jumped out of the mouth, took the woodchopper-person's axe, and cut his head off. After this ordeal, Red Riding Hood, Grandma, and the Wolf felt a certain commonality of purpose. They decided to set up an alternative household based on mutual respect and cooperation, and they lived together in the woods happily ever after.

Current Mood: amused

( Story! )

Umyah. no idea where that came from. ^^;

So I have my homework strewn out ALL over the room and I have this big wheelie computer chair and I just wheeled backwards and rolled over some of my English study questions T.T [this isn't the first time this has happened either...] So I have this crumpled little somewhat-ripped ball of study questions... it looks like Rice chewed on it...

So cloudy out. I hope it rains again.

Eeeee group lesson in a bit I better get dressed and practise and stuff.

1243 edit: 哇靠∼∼ CRAZY CRAZY storm out...

爽ㄚ!!!!!

2155 edit: ... the recital lasted 4.5 hours. @.@

[Not the whole thing, mind. Including practise and stuff.]

Such a high caliber recital, though. EVERYONE's so good, dammit. None of that memorize-and-play-memorized-notes shit, EVERYONE, even the worse people (by comparison) are SO good. Like, I wasn't bored/falling asleep/ANYTHING. It's just like... the EXCELLENCE. It... made me pay close attention. The entire time. Which is, frankly, a miracle.

Alex Yang is absolutely insane. *-* INSANE.

I aspire to be like that someday.

( story 56 )

D00d, I don't even know if the ending makes sense or if I got the idea that originally popped into my head across. but hell, too lazy to edit. >>;; My writing's deteriorating. this makes me sad.

In other news, rally today was rather lame. but it made me laugh a lot, sometimes genuinely funny, sometimes complete stupidity funny, sometimes random amusement funny... whatever, I'm easily amused. ^^; so it was all good.

The cellos had not enough sheet music this morning. So we sat 3 to a stand for 3 stands instead of, er, having 5 stands. I sat with Alvin and Grace (yay first stand go me!), and Grace messed around the whole time... she had lots of fun, methinks. It amused me. And we were extraordinarily cramped, but whatever. Afterwards Alvin came to me and said in an undertone, "My stand partner is ALWAYS like that. ALWAYS. =.= Feel my pain." It made me laugh.

:D :D I hope it storms tomorrow and they cancel the meet.

Been slacking way too much on cello. I have to remove myself from the computer. I can IMAGINE how much I would get done if I didn't have a computer, if computers didn't exist with all their distractions and internet and games. I wouldn't waste my idle time on here. I might, at the very least, read instead. I would definitely get a lot more instrumenting done. And be a lot more productive, just in general. With anything.

The computer tears me away from all of it, such a perfect tool for procrastination.

But... I can't give it up, either. Not willingly. x.o I love it too much.

( story 55 )

( Attempted continuation by Del )

Whee okay, so it's not as bad as I said. XP Sorry for flaming it to hell~ But if you must know, that was partially a true story (excepting the details and the girl), and this is what actually happened afterwards:

( Trueness! )

story 54
he smiled when he tasted the poison.

she put it in the wine, he knew. she, who was once his fiancé.

how long, how long ago was that? now she stared at him with a mixture of hatred, pain, anger, and hurt betrayal in her eyes. now she sat beside another man.

he resented her not, for it was all his own doing.

once, they had been a happy young couple, envied and admired by many, for they were perfect together in every way. he was young, strong, and handsome, while she had beauty, grace, and nobility. they had grown up together as children, the engagement a parental decision, and their future marriage-to-be was a widely known and accepted fact.

so who was the man that sat next to her now?

a friend.

a friend of his. a foreign friend, who had saved his life many times over when he was abroad. really, he owed this friend more than he can ever repay.

this friend knew nothing of their engagement, and when he first came, so long ago, he fell in love with her at first sight. so lovesick was he, in fact, that he fell ill and took to the bed. the boy, naturally, was very worried for him, and eventually, after much talking and coaxing, drew the secret from him.

the poor boy was dumbfounded. and he saw, as they talked, that if ever this friend found out about their engagement that would be the end of it. he would never recover from his “illness.” and he owed this friend so much...

so, he made a painful decision.

he left home, and wasted away gambling and gaming, spending heaps of money on useless sums, ‘til his family disowned him and the engagement was called off. he flirted with countless women in front of her, acting as if he enjoyed himself immensely. he did all he could to make her hate him, and break her heart. it was not a difficult task, for who knew her better than him?

she proved more stubborn than he thought, and cried and pleaded and begged until his heart shattered as well. for she had known him long, and this change came about so suddenly that she could not believe it true. and so it wasn't, but he let not a trace of it show on his face, convinced that his actions were for the better. hardening his heart, he brutally forced her away from him. away, that she might go and find comfort elsewhere. she fled, weeping, not understanding, and never saw how he grieved when he was alone.

eventually, his plan succeeded. she left him for the better man. the one who truly loved her and would do anything for her sake. the first engagement was null and void, and she was engaged for a second time.

...and his friend recovered from the illness.

of course, the boy still loved her. and as much as he was glad to see his matchmaking complete, it hurt him deep down more than anyone could know. he just hoped that she would forget about him and truly love the other man. (or at least, convinced himself to hope that.) he hoped they would be happy together. and he tried his best to convince himself that he could do likewise, that someday he may forget about her.

he forgot that some scars never heal.

when he saw that everything seemed to have gone as planned, he made-believe to himself that he was relieved, by repeatedly telling himself that it was for the best. from the beginning he had known this would happen, and had resolved to endure the pain. of course, deep down inside there was no way he could truly feel happiness at this. only a bitter trace of sadness and regret. but he repressed those feelings, and consoled himself by thinking about what he had done for his friend. for it had been a noble deed, yes, it had, and that was the only thing that sustained him as it was the one thing that could not be denied.

naturally, it was human nature that somewhere, deep down in the far corners of his mind, he wished fervently that he had never done any of this and left the friend to die and kept his girl, so he had not to suffer from this intolerable pain. but valiantly he repressed this as hard as he could, and forced himself to live in that constant torment.

then again, now that things were going the way they should, had he any reason left to live? in fact, suicide might be the best option. as long as he lived, he wasn't sure what might happen. because, when you have done such a deed as he, and made the world hate you for what you are when you really aren't, it is immensely hard to keep to yourself and resist the desire to tell someone, anyone, that you have been wronged. yet that would defy the point, for he had set himself up precisely to be wronged. it would ruin everything. but, to keep everything, EVERYTHING all to yourself so that no one may know even after your death how much you had done for the sake of your friend... oh, it's difficult. there is always the secret desire that someone could accidentally find out. the boy felt this, and he knew it would be wise to seek death as soon as possible, so the temptation would be completely eliminated.

yet, he COULDN'T kill himself, for that would give the game away, which would be incredibly pointless. so, after much indecision, he returned to his home one last time (for he secretly wanted to see her one last time before he died).

there, with sly words and behavior, he drove her to kill him. it was not too difficult, for, as aforementioned, he knew her best. he also knew no one would blame her for his death, for his name was now a disgrace to speak of, and his killer might be praised but never punished.

so he smiled when he tasted the poison.

and drained the glass.

ah, but he had miscalculated. his friend was not a rock. nay, he was a fairly perceptive human being, and he’s had his own suspicions for a long time now, even as he lamented for the downfall of his friend. and right then, when he saw the look in her eyes and the smile on his lips, everything came crystal clear to him. and for a split second he was rooted to the spot, unable to move, for it is a terrible feeling when you realize that your fiancé doesn’t love you half as much as she hates another.

the boy had still been able to grasp onto the fact that he had done all this, nobly, for a friend. it gave him at least a weak sense of superiority, and it was all that sustained him. but what of the friend?

how terrible does it feel, to discover that EVERYTHING you possess had been given to you in such a way? your estate (for after they disowned the boy, they treated his friend like a second son and left to him their house and land), your life, even your love. and how does it feel, after realizing all of this, that your wife still loves the other? that no matter what, you can NEVER match him in her eyes?

it stabbed him, through and through. and he hated his benefactor for it, though he knew he shouldn't. and even as he jumped out of the seat, he caught a glimpse of shock and regret and hate and love and determination in his wife's eyes, eyes that didn't even give him a sidelong glance, and though he ran over to the boy he had a secret simmering desire that it would be too late, even though he knew he shouldn't.

and the boy saw this, and the poison had muddled up his thoughts and he was unable to repress everything that he had held back for so long. for though he had tried to be selfless, and suffer in silence for the sake of others, it is not in human nature to be so, and in the last moments before his death he saw that his friend knew the secret, and he saw in the girl's eyes that he had failed, that she still loved him and had never loved the other, and he knew it to be wrong but he could not hold back a small fleeting sensation of bitter glee and triumph. nay, he was unable to repress it for the poison was swiftly and surely killing him and taking his consciousness with it.

he died with the smile still lingering at his lips.

the end.

Current Mood: inspired

Wow hell I can't read over this without really wanting to edit it, so I think I'm just not going to look back on it. ..... yeah. Something you write, and then never touch or see or change again! Joyyy~

( Rereading m'writing makes me wince. ... honestly. )

Current Mood: holy shit what did I write

story 51
once there lived a girl who was forced to go to big fancy restaurants with her parents and was bored out of her mind while the adults ate and talked and made boring conversation that was of no interest to her. so she took to writing morbid stories with her dad's blue pen on the back of the receipts. she wrote so much that she grew up with an obsessive disorder like stephen king and couldn't stop writing scary stories. and then one day she wrote a particularly scary story and that combined with unhealthy eating and junk food overdose gave her a heart attack and she died. the end.

story 52
once there lived two little mice in a mouse-hole. they would scavenge food from trash cans at night and lived a very happy life, a very happy life indeed, there in their cozy little hole. then one day the family got a cat. the mice were afraid to go out for fear of being eaten, so they hid in their hole and starved until they were on the verge of death. then the boy mouse decided that something had to be done. so he ventured out and successfully stole a piece of cheese! but on the way back the cat saw him and gave chase. being a mouse, he could not outrun the cat and was caught just before he reached the mouse-hole, and his last thought was fear for the girl mouse because he instinctively knew that she would come out because she cared, and she would be worried, and she would look for him and then the cat would probably find her and eat her. so in desperation he shouted "don't come out! don't come out!!" and prayed that she heard. the girl mouse did hear, and heeded his warning, and thus it was that the boy mouse was devoured by the cat and the girl mouse starved to death in the mouse-hole. the end.

Btw, both of these were written yesterday at the 3 hour long dinner with my dad's blue pen on the back of receipts/bits of random paper.

story 48
once a woman lost something. it was so very important to her, yet she could not find it no matter how hard she tried, and finally she went to a wise man. the wise man told her she would have to travel for it, travel far to a land beyond, a fantastical land that exists only in legend and rumor here. he gave her specific directions on how to reach the land, and all her envious friends waved goodbye to her as she set out on the journey. a year later, the woman returned, triumphant with the item in hand. her friends eagerly asked her questions about the place she had travelled to; they wanted to know exactly what it was like, what creatures she met, the way of life there... etc. but the woman could tell them nothing, aside from vague vague answers that did not satisfy them at all. for she had been so busy in her search that though she saw everything, she saw nothing at all.

story 49
once there was a desolate lonely little town. no one lived there. yet everyone lived there. and one day anyone came by and saw no one there, and decided to stay. and someone left. and there, in that empty little town, no one liked anyone. no one was loved by everyone, and everyone was always jealous and envious. and i guess one day anyone died. and no one put flowers on the grave because no one cared. everyone was being busy going about whatever business there was and pointedly ignoring the death. and from then on no one left the little town. everyone stayed. and everyone was sad and bitter and angry because everyone liked no one, no one at all, and that was how it was, in the desolate lonely little town.

story 50
once there lived a cat and a dog, both cared for by the same human. one day while the dog was relaxing contentedly on the hearth he remarked to the cat, "our human feeds us, washes us, walks us, takes care of us... why, he's almost like a god!" the cat looked at him. "you say our human feeds us, washes us, takes care of us, worships us... you see, we are the gods," said she, and majestically stepped over the dog to reach the couch. this confused the dog very much, and eventually he decided to stick to his own analogy and forgot about the whole event. then one day the human nearly got killed, but the dog shoved the human out of the way and the dog died instead. the cat looked on and remarked, "fool, if he'd only seen things properly he would have seen that risking our own death in place of a human's is not worth it. we will still be provided for if our human dies. but not if we die..." she shook her head. on another day, a similar incident occurred, and the cat saw it coming but did nothing to help, because she figured it was foolish to risk her own life. she was absolutely convinced that she was right. it wasn't until she got thrown into the pound, escaped, and became a starved, thin, homeless cat on the streets before she began to think back on the dog's words...

Edit: Awwww isn't Rice just the cutest thing you have ever seen~

Squeeee~ ^^ And he's so nice and fuzzy and soft to pet!

But there are drawbacks to having him here. Dog in room = no cats. And since he has his own doggie bed there aren't any nice warm furry little animals for me to curl up with even though it's frickin' cold in my room. >> Oh well.

Hell. Today I woke up at 6, went back to sleep, woke up at 7:30 or so, bounded out of bed, did everything I needed to (cook breakfast, eat breakfast, make lunch, change, do any leftover procrastinated hw, take care of the dog, put the cats out, water the plants, feed the fish, brush teeth wash face brush hair yadda yadda yadda) and look, it's 8 now. And I'm done with it all!

And I just realized that today school starts at 8:50.

.......

Edit: Oh, that's right. So...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DELMAR!!!!

Edit: Aiyah, ??~ ( It hurts... )

Edit: Oh look, my housekeeper brought me pearl milk tea. I am slightly consoled.

...but that was a half-size cup and I finished it... just now... immediately... (under 1 minute...) Ah well, pearl milk tea is pearl milk tea. I'll content myself with the little that I got.

Edit: Eeee, I'm freezing. It's 8 pm and I'm in my room (which, methinks, is warmer than the rest of the house) and the windows are CLOSED and I'm wearing a jacket and I'm completely curled up on my computer chair. (I feel kind of like one of my cats. >>)

But I'm freezing anyways. And I have to leave the chair and leave my room and go sit outside on a cold chair (and the whole house is effin cold) and I won't be able to curl up in anything close to a warm position if I wish to practice cello or piano or koto which I have to do.

...I waste too much time pouring my life into the computer. Typing my life away. Typing typing typing typing typing all the time. My life's going to be sucked away into the computer the way Ginny's life was sucked away by Tom Riddle.

Edit: ( How many edits does this make? )

Current Mood: Rar

Wow. The story I wrote in school is like... the most morbid of the lot. And it's very long. Very very very very long, compared to my other stories. I spent most of Japanese and all of Geometry working on it, for lack of anything better to do, and that's a whole 3 hours I spent there, and, uh, most of these little stories take me like 10 minutes. So you understand how long it'll be... and... yeah. I was going to say more on my day and stuff, but after I spent much time typing it up, I no longer have the time. =='' Because there's a LOT I'd like to rant about about my day and if I get started I won't stop and I won't be able to finish hw or instruments.

Hm. This story doesn't really belong here. It's too long. But whatever... it can be an extremely extremely long story 41.

( story 41 )

Rather influenced by Evangelion, I must say... ==''

(Btw, Aoki sensei cornered me today and asked me if I were trying out for a sport. oO;; I told her I wasn't because I don't like any of the sports really except frisbee and there is no frisbee team. Then she advised me to do XC because that's not a sport exactly - just running. -.- I'm not that fond of running... >< I have to run at least a mile tomorrow if I want to make up one of the 4 points I lost yesterday. If I want to make up all four points I get to run 4 miles. Yay.)

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chu_totoro

October 2015

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Entries tagged with odd stories

once upon a time

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whatup with waking super early?

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fractured fairytales?

moral of the story: don't help extreme feminists?

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Story

Yech

Uhm. This story turned out incredibly long. ... yeah.

Haven't written one of these for a while...

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October 2015

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