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DigitalSpectre9
October 27th, 2006, 01:23 AM
You may pay no attention to the tormented mind of an old-sick-woman,if you will...But the events I'm about to endulge you in are true.Events that I'm sure would enamour the darkest depths of your imagination...Or you could do as others have,ignor me...Write me off as insane,go ahead.Or you could just sit at your computers and read this 'myspace' blog.I long for someone to listen,to understand...To step outside the comforts of a world governed by logic,and believe.(Ironic fact...One can believe in things such as Gods and Devils,but refuses to believe in other outer world manifestations.)So please do listen...I was in the morbid process of taking my life by a swift shot to the head, when it almost slipped my mind to compose a suicide letter.Oh! my,it seems that my mind has lost all imagination in my old age,but don't pitty me;composing this letter would mean leaving it in an opened area to be discovered,but I could'nt think of where to place it.I did'nt want it anywhere around my body,who knows what could happen...may get lost under the feet of the police or whom ever.I immensely wanted it to be located by my 'family' who dubbed me 'insane',a crazed old hag with one foot in the grave, from four years of lung cancer.To myself this suicide does'nt matter,I'm dying anyway.
Oh! how I hate them.My four brothers and my two sisters,and their chidren,who only pretend to care out of respect...To the devil with them all.I began to compose my death-statement,my hand began to shake so vilently that the pen could'nt achieve contact with my note pad,heck...Even when you want it it's still a horrid thing-to stop being.I popped up with the idea to just type it out on my computer.I would leave the screen on for all to see,so I strolled over to my computer and began to type.After finishing my lifes story,and way I ended it, I was immensely pleased at how my words played out.It was like a novel,someone else's life,horrid as it may be.This envoked a flash of fame in my heart...Why limit this to only your families eyes?,oh why don't I just scream this out to the world.So I logged on to the internet and searched for a place that was populated with the most people to post my letter,for all to see.It took me about an hour to get used to it,I had very little understanding of the internet,it was a waste of time to me.My Nephew installed it for me,I don't know why,I guess he was just trying to recieve brownie points for the pearly gates. An hour later I found a place,it was called 'myspace',and judging from some of these pages posted here,most of these People seemed depraved somehow...Oh!!! my God...Setting my horror aside,I registered for myspace and began to post my letter. It all began when I was only nine years of age...The events that led to that thing that was sappose to be my 'little sister', to come into my life.Events that envoked such pain maybe never known nor discovered by any soul.One autumn afternoon my playmate(Why can't I remember her name?,after all she was my best friend.)dared me to run up to Ms.Roberts door,ring the door bell and run away.(It had been rumoured that Ms.Roberts was a witch,all the kids on my block feared her,including myself.Ms.Roberts was a bit of an invert,she kept to herself,and when seen by human eyes,never flashed a smile...How weird is that?)I agreed to do this deed of a miscrent in hopes to please my little playmate.Heart in my little throat,I strolled up to the steps,on to the porch and rang the door bell.After, I ran into the old woman's bushes and hid with my playmate.We giggled like little girls tend to,waiting for our thrill.We waited but no answer,I tried two more times but...Nothing,darn it! Our little nefarious venture did'nt pay off,we gave up altogether. Around mid-night that night, a horrid cry broke the silence of our quit little street.My parents,including every adult on the block raced to find Ms.Roberts crawling in the middle of the street.Her right leg was twisted in a direction that was inhumanly possible,as if ripped off and placed back on backwards.She pulled the mass of her body using both arms,moaning the word 'help' like a trapped animal.'Heeelp'.She was taken to a hospital where she would spend three months recovering from two broken legs(Both in four places)It was discovered that she had fallen down her flight of stairs on her way to answer her door.My playmate and I figured out the reason why she 'refused' to answer our trick call.My playmate and I did'nt play outside for a month,we sat around each others rooms consumed with pure guilt...We could'nt face being responseble for causing the harm of a helpless old woman.For some reason unknown to me,I kept feeling this powerful,nagging feeling...like something horrid was about to happen.And as the wheels of time passed...My feelings would prove correct.On my eleventh birthday, my playmate went missing.Everyone searched high and low but not a trace of her could be found.Oh!!! I was a torn little soul,haunted day and night.I could'nt sleep nor eat.Nights spent just staring out my window at the snow covered streets...The same streets we both spent so many happy summers.And everytime I would gaze out into the void of night...I would open my window and listen...Because it seemed like I could still hear her laughter...Or something that sounded like her screams.By my twelveth summer my playmates parents moved away...They could'nt stand walking the same streets their Daughter played on any longer,and with them left the mystery...Alas,my playmate was forgotten.But not by me,I needed an answer,immensely. I got my unwanted answer when I was thirteen,on an autumn morning on my way to school.Oddly, for some unknown reason I felt a strong urge to walk through a wooded area a few yards away from my school,as if pulled by some unknown force.I spotted Ms.Roberts standing next to a leafless tree,warped in her infamous black coat...The one that made her look like a melancholy sight to behold.The sight of her sent shock waves through my nervous system,but I could'nt bring myself to stop my advance towards her.I paused inches away from her,her pale-blue eyes gleamed,and I knew something was out of place about the matter...For the first time in my history,a grin hung across her round-pale-face.It was'nt a welcoming grin,but a twisted malignant one.She loomed over me,I was only four-feet,she seemed like a giant compared to me.I was hypnotized by the way the strands of loose white hair danced freely from her french roll,behind that grey sky."I know you and your friend are to blame for my suffering." She said,in an icy tone."So now,I'm going to make sure you suffer." From up under her coat, she produced a brown paper bag.With her bony fingers she fished inside it and pulled out something that looked kin to a halloween mask.She held it out to my face with both hands,prancing it around tauntingly.My young sanity almost split when I realized that this is the skin from a human face.And my heart stopped when I recalled it's features...'ohgodohgodohgodohgod noooooooooo!!! it was my playmates face. (End of part1)

Evil Agent
October 27th, 2006, 02:54 AM
:eek: :confused: :eek: :confused: :eek: :confused: :eek: :confused: :eek: :confused:

Hobbit
October 27th, 2006, 04:38 AM
Ah. Nearly that time of year....

As this is from a blog and therefore writing, I'm moving it to the Writing Forum, where people may add further comment.

Hobbit

BrianC
October 27th, 2006, 07:34 AM
Hmm, I think we should treat this as a request for a critique. Frankly, DigitalSpectre, you should first work on correct sentence and paragraph organization, and this excerpt demonstrates a large number of punctuation and other grammar problems. However, it may just be a first draft, so I'll merely suggest that you work on these issues. I'll confess that stream of consciousness is not my favorite style of writing as I prefer external dialogue and narrative. I found it difficult both to follow the flow of your writing and to discern the ultimate point that you wished to convey. However, there are some bright spots in your prose. For example:

An hour later I found a place,it was called 'myspace',and judging from some of these pages posted here,most of these People seemed depraved somehow...Oh!!! my God...Setting my horror aside,I registered for myspace and began to post my letter.Putting aside the mistakes in punctuation, I must say that I can relate to the feeling of 'horror' at first encountering Myspace.com.

I suggest that you keep working at this, especially to improve the readability.

Yobmod
October 27th, 2006, 08:02 AM
I suspect the unique punctuation style is intentional, rather than ignorant. A few great authors get away with playing with punctuation (Woolf, Saramago), and lots with twisting grammar - but it is very risky. The extract above simply became unreadable for me.


Events that I'm sure would enamour the darkest depths of your imagination

I'm not sure what this sentence meant. Can events enamour an imagination? As opposed to the person becoming enamoured, or being enamoured of something. Feels like it should read 'excite' or similar.

The use of blasphemic curses (to the devil with them!) with 'heck' seems strange too.

BrianC
October 27th, 2006, 10:22 AM
I suspect the unique punctuation style is intentional, rather than ignorant. A few great authors get away with playing with punctuation (Woolf, Saramago), and lots with twisting grammar - but it is very risky.Hmm, sort of prose version of e.e. cummings. I see.


Events that I'm sure would enamour the darkest depths of your imagination
I'm not sure what this sentence meant. Can events enamour an imagination? As opposed to the person becoming enamoured, or being enamoured of something. Feels like it should read 'excite' or similar.You're reading it too literally. This is a mood piece. The disjointed and nonsensical prose is intended to infuse the reader with the irrational thought processes of the protagonist.

Liathano
October 27th, 2006, 10:31 AM
Problems aside, I like it:rolleyes:

DigitalSpectre9
October 27th, 2006, 09:02 PM
BrianC, I do truely respect your eloquent critiquemanship.(Did I punctuate that sentence correctly?)It clearly shows that you have strong insight.However,I do admit that my prose is infact flawed...This was infact my intention.I wanted to dive deep into the thought process of the mentally ill.Have you ever spoken with an mentally ill person?...Their speach process is nonsensical and disjointed,like their thought process.(Like what you said about my piece)So if my story appeared hard to understand I'm sorry.It was not one of my best,it was souly for fun.Remember that my protagonist is a mentally ill woman,totally out of touch with reallity.So if you're confused I made my point.The 'mistakes' are intentional and not out of 'ignorance'.Brian,thanks for the advice.

missguidedfi
November 2nd, 2006, 03:42 PM
I thought this story was interesting prose. You set the tone of voice well and the ramblings of a mentally ill woman were fairly realistic. But the lack of spaces between full stops, commas etc, made it very hard work to read. There are also several spelling mistakes and things like does'nt instead of doesn't.

It's important to note that the work could be of shakespeare standard but as a reader, when I find these errors in a prose it jars the reading and ultimately detracts from the story, which is no good thing as the story was interesting. I'm only saying this as you seemed to be a little defensive to the previous poster who pointed these things out.