what can i say? i'm an eccentric woman.

got more soul

than a sock

with a hole.

Monday, September 24, 2007

Jagged Edge

I scream for the dying pain of living, while she smiles a devilish smile. She’s stretching me like elastic bands. My body is tearing, shredding, slashing away from me. Her vicious eyes are devouring mine with crimson hate, grinding their flesh and color. I feel my silky skin turn jagged with spikes of evil. My bones are crumbling and crushing. My feet are shattering and smashing with the ground beneath me. Pieces of me tear away; evanescing into the night sky, like the whistling wind. Her footsteps disappear with my soul. Slowly, I’m mutating into the color of death. Time’s up. I can’t stop it. I can’t control it. It’s coming. It’s here. I’m leaving my peace for war.

Rough Draft -- Comment -- Tell me what you think!

Sunday, September 16, 2007


cautioninfrench & roflyourwaffles

While killing time at a fashion show before his mission at the White House, The Russian man wanders off behind the scenes and starts chatting up one of the models (Catholic mother). Unable to control himself, he spills the beans to the model who, knowing her catholic duty, calls the police.

“911, what is your emergency?”
“I’m calling to report a Russian…”
A short boy, resembling a toddler crawled onto the table, reached with his dumpy hands, and put the phone down for her.
“Vyu can’t dzoo zat, zis not a goud idea,” the toddler whispers with the voice of a 47 year old.
“Why is your voice so…manly? What a little miracle you are. Oh Jesus. Oh Jesus Jesus Jesus…
She does the sign of the cross with her skinny fingers. Jesus.
“It is my rightful duty, as a regular church attendee to do this. It is God’s orders,” she explains in a monotone voice.
“Zi should tell zyu sthat I’m an undurcover 15 year old…and zyour babies’ faaja;” he declares like he was Darth Vadar, “All six zof zem.”
With a puzzled face she utters the words: “No. You are not. Not my six miracles from the Lord Jesus Christ. I do not remember doing you,” she exclaims…with boredom. “The Lord would punish me.”
She falls onto her boney knees, almost breaking them, and goes into prayer with her palms facing the Lord’s home: “I believe in God, the Father Almighty, the Creator of Heaven and Earth and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord who…”
“Zjot it. Zyu Amerdicans zounds like my dog, Lazzie,” he yells. “And by zee way, we did it in zee back…of the church.”
The skinny woman gasps.
“My muhzer back in Raasha zays zat prayer every time she zees me. I always vwondered vwhy,” he says with a confused look on his face.
“But zat iz not nwhy I am here,” he states boldly while glancing at his watch. 3 pm.
“In half an hour, Jeorge Daab-ah-zuu Bush zis holding a fourz of July party at zee Vwhite House. It iz my duty to explode out of zee cake…naked. Zit iz a gift from Raasha. It meanz ‘we hate zyou’. I’m going to be…aztrippar. I need zyour help. Jow me how to walk zee runway.

Written by out-her-space-13 & mindofteenager

Saturday, September 15, 2007



The trees are naked

coloured leaves sail with the

red, orange, gold, brown.

My Muse.

"That's probably why I was into books so much. I hated coming home." - Truth

Friday, September 14, 2007

Personal Pieces.

My brain blew a fuse like shoes on a landmine
I exploded into the sky; a million pieces
drifting from side to side like long case clocks
It’ll make you stop like bike shocks
I was so angry that they didn’t understand me
Fathom my blues, greens, and yellows like family
One person blamed me, pointing peter pointer fingers
Abusing my mind with cutting edge words like sinner
I went without dinner that night
I just stayed in my room
four walls shaded black with no shadows looming or light
Boarded up windows, a prisoner of my mentality
I fought with myself…the guilt lingered inside of me
I thought to myself, man why would she do this?
Intentions so cruel like Sebastian and the new kid
I cried tears lucid, my heart pierced as my ears
This is nothing new,
My soul’s been wandering for years.

I’m on the receiving end of ill will, when I’d look into her eyes
A vibe so intense that it almost took my life
I send it back with a receipt, ‘cause I feel the same way
The connection was never good,
internet bills were never paid.
I’d punish myself, when I step outside the inner circle
and think they’d be better off without me lurking.
I even scrutinize all the matter of the atoms
Such a misfit I am, like Urkel.
The weight on my shoulders like a middle-class worker
Weighs more than 3 times the weight of mother earth, and
It’s funny, the brawls between us led to my ripped shirt.

Pieces of me, finally fall to the floor
She’s happy; she doesn’t have to stress anymore.

AWKwards WAWKing

I almost got hit by a car while running for the bus.
The red hand was flashing on and off. I knew I had to pick up my sibling so I couldn’t be late. Technically, it wasn’t red light yet, so I thought that I could make it.
Then I turned to my left and saw a car coming towards me fast. Tires screeching and vroom vrooms danced through my ears. My eyes and mouth widened for a split second and I dodged it very quickly, backpack on my back and book and water bottle in hand. Stupid motherfucker didn’t see me. I have the right of way.

“You stupid bitch!”

That’s all that I heard…and it stayed there – only for a few seconds though. That careless driver must have thought I cared what he said the same way he doesn’t care the way he drives. I didn’t care for his words…only that I was on the bus. Almost being hit by a car didn’t faze me for some reason. It happened…and then I moved into the future. I should’ve been scared out of my mind right? I should’ve been crying and complaining like a tween who wants a celly.
Maybe it was that I didn’t believe that I would get hit. Me? No way, you know?
Maybe I was just in the zone…only thinking about what time I would arrive at my sibling’s school. I hate being late.
Aside from the episode, I’m still wondering why I reacted the way I did.
This isn’t the first time I’ve reacted oddly to a bad situation. I find myself smiling or just pokerfaced with a nonchalant attitude when challenges, personal or not, come my way.
I don’t know…
Maybe I was just meant to be different.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

-profile- using slang/jargon/accent creatively

Profile A Profile B

PERSONALITY TYPE: University student PERSONALITY TYPE: Vegetarian
Rebellious Just graduated
Smoker Musically illiterate
Single Quiet
Guitarist Funny

TIME/PLACE/PERIOD: Downtown Toronto; December 4th, 2006: Music Store

SITUATION: These two people are in the same section of the store. They notice each other.

M: (soft spoken) What a crux, eh? (nervous laugh) It's like looking for girls here in Downtown Toronto, ha ha...
F: (rolls eyes in disgust) Why I always gotta fined tha stupid mothafuckas who thank they funny? You thank you funny?
M: Damn. Only 21 more days till Christmas left. Tomorrow will be 20. Calm down. A crux you are. What music are you looking for?
F: Well, since ya askin'...
I'm lukin' fo this dope ass CD wit wicked instrumentation and melodies, naw mean? Tha lurics and beetz are craaayzee! I just don't rememba the artist. I only know how da CD cover be lookin' like.
M: Right. All of that is great. I'm just browsing for any music...that...has singing.
F: What? Datz it? I need a fuckin' ciggy right now...
You might as well be lookin in da what-da-fuck section of this sto' naw mean?
M: (Looks at guitar on her back) You play the guitar?

F: Would I be curryin' it if ah didn't? Straight up sloppy dawg...
M: Sloppy?
F: Yes foo! Yu deaf? Stoopid? Choose wun.
M: I'll take deaf for 200.
F: Ah shit, I needz ma ciggy.
M: I needs my vegetables.
F: Dang, yu wun uh dem peepuls that eat like carruts and grass and shit righ?
M: Vegetarian. They're called vegetarians
F: Whateva. Well, ah gotta get to ma class. You know how it is, big things poppin'.
M: Right.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Bus Stops Anonymous

Don't ask me about the title.
Subway Day

The subway. Clean windows, dirty seats - moving pictures and still images.
I haven't been on it in a while, so I don't even know the stops well. I was constantly looking at the map like a crazy person - my eyes widened and my mouth open, staring into space like I'm retarded (no offense). It was hard for me to see though; sitting down and looking up at a whole bunch of coloured and colourless heads of hair.
So...I got bored. I had no music on me, games, that new technology shit...nothing. I decided to just look at people's faces and examine them like a coroner does with dead bodies. Like some girls, I just pointed out misperfections.
Too skinny. Her nose is too long. His hair looks like it has lice. That dude really needs to get his teeth fixed. Ugly this, ugly that....
It's so easy to point out the things wrong with people...when you're not telling them about it.
So...I'm still bored. So I'm lookin' straight ahead...watching the scenary go by like a slowed down bullet. Trees look like scribbles of green and lines of brown, and the clouds look like a mix of white and blue. A biracial person who doesn't exist.
This blonde-haired, long nosed, big footed, freckle faced lady (I told you it was easy) was staring at me. I know I'm gorgeous, but damn...do I have a car on my face? Jeez...
I find that shit so rude you know? When people are just watching you like you owe them something. Or as if you're supposed to give them something. That is just not cool. Shut up and colour! Bazootie.
Finally, she looks over to the ad for covergirl. Good...because she needs some of that shit on her face...Bitch...ok I don't mean that but it just came out. I have a swearing problem I'm recovering from so...bear with me.
My stop comes and I'm pushing my way through this crayola box of colours to get myself off the subway. I've got to meet someone here so that we can go to an appointment.
Man I hate waiting long...it sucks. I can be impatient at times...and this time, is the time.
I was over at the stairs, staring down like I was about to jump. Would be cool if I couldn't bust my ass. I was really lookin' out for the people I was waiting for.
I swear man, I waited for like...30 minutes. And then finally she comes. She explained herself and what not, we talked a bit, and we still waited. Why? Because I had to wait for my siblings. Goooooosh. Yup, trying not to say the Lord's name in vain.
They come waaaaaaay later and then we take the bus from there.

Oh there's more...but it's not important.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007


Ah, finally! The family barbeque is here. I was growing shack-wacky for a minute, mang. Staying inside all the time with nothing to do is just not my thing. My family is…diverse, if you will. You’ve got your spangers, those “I have money but I’ll ask you for some anyway” folks, the shady and sheisty but pleasant family segotias, the happy-clappy ho…stesses with big bazooties, and the never ending number of nuff nuffs who act with bozocity and need to learn how to shut up and colour! They’re always mean-muggin’ someone, especially if they don’t get their fukubukuros at New Years. Ungrateful motherfuckers always want to be surprised with gifts. Then you’ve got me, the barbeque stopper who’s baaaaalllin all the time with maaaad cheddar and hates when religious MSN users, like those amongst my family, say Laugh My Ass Off outloud…like that shit’s funny.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Canucks, those CRA-ZED bastards..

Yoooo guy like, why you stealin' maad cheddar from me?


what's really good?

Stream of Conciousness

"Hello? Hello!"
"Who is it?' Christiansen asks, but I hardly hear him.
"Hello? Hello! I'm yelling. It isn't that the connection is bad. It's crystal clear, there's no static at all. But no one's there, just silence.
"Sir, who is it?" Christiansen bleats, but I shove my hand toward the cop to shut him up. I don't hand up because I realize it's not quite silence I'm hearing. It's breathing. Someone's breathing.
"Who is this?" I ask, trying to control my voice. "Who is it?"
And then a Roman candle of relief explodes in my chest as Kevin's voice flutters into my ear, tremulous and tentative:

Continued by moi:
"Kevin? Kevin! Kevin, say something!"
"Hello? Hello!"
But he's gone. No more breathing. The pulsing sound of the phone is the onlt sound traveling through my ears. I felt obliged to keep the phone to my ear, hoping Kevin's voice gets in the way of the phone's humdrum voice.
"Sir, who was it? Who called you?"
"Shut up!" I said out of frustration.
I cried a brook of tears. They slithered down my face like a snake preparing for an attack. I felt nothing though. I glanced down at my chest and saw only my skin glistening with tears and my shirt turning darker shades of grey.
"How could I have let them out of my sight?" I said to myself, disappearing into my thoughts.
I snapped out of it and took a glimpse of Christiansen. His mouth moving, but only a defeaning silence let loose.