Sentiment of My Waking Hours...

Do you wrestle with dreams?
Do you contend with shadows?
Do you move in a kind of a sleep?
Time has slipped away.
Your life is stolen.
You tarried with trifles,
victim of your folly.

-Dirge for Jamis on the Funeral Plain, from "Songs of Muad'dib"
Author: Frank Herbert

Frustration

Dreams are wonderful tools used by our subconscious to direct our actions in the waking world.
Sometimes these dreams come to wonderful conclusions where all the players meet their happy ends and all is right and well in the world.
Sometimes these dreams are shattered and broken, stripped away by unfortunate instances where it seems the forces of evil have turned their eye upon you for no particular reason at all.
And then there are those most wonderful of times when your dreams are so close to fulfillment, and yet still elude your grasp...somehow.
Even worse are those times when your dreams brush your fingertips, giving you just a brief taste of what could be, and then dash away again only to continue eluding you grasp indefinitely.

Eraser = Anger; Nose = Life

When there's an eraser stuck up your nose,
The whole world smells like eraser.
Take the eraser out of your nose.

Monday morning in a retail job

In silence I stare at a wall of white-trash snack food.
The cartoon cob on the bag of Corn Nuts clenches its fist in anger and screams
“If you’re looking for trouble you’ve found it buddy”
I turn away for I know it lives a lie.
The door opens
The cold and the din of morning traffic enter seeking refuge and perhaps a candy bar.
As soon as they enter they are gone, replaced by an amalgamation of noise, flesh, and currency.
After a transaction of false smiles and meaningless courtesy, our time is done.
I return to the wall greeted by the image of a cow on the bags of beef jerky.
I laugh at the cow its fate so like my own.
Born to toil, raised to be weak, and destined to be slaughtered for the enjoyment of a being whose motives I cannot comprehend.

Pass-Off Story; Continue in Comments

Okay, everyone should know the rules of the pass-off story: Limit one sentence/clause per person per post, no run-ons, lists or otherwise cheating. Without further ado...


Once upon a time, there was an orange penguin named Alphonse.

"These are the times that try men's souls:"

When Justice is over-ruled by Law
When Peace is attainable only by War
When Freedom is sabotaged by Organization
When God is only a device for Immortality
When Progress is stifled by Traditional Ignorance

And Baby, these are any old time



-credit goes to Mason Williams

Tigers

A tiger cub
When with its peers
Will play the day away,

Yet tiger cub
Receives the jeers
Of those who shy away.

Though tiger cub
When in its veldt
May come across a man

The tiger paw
May be witheld
When man extends its hand

Now paw withheld,
The man withdraws
And calls the cub aloof

Same man, when chased,
By tiger claw,
Is found upon his roof.

When tiger play
Is had by young
One bats his friend around

And friend bats back;
His clever tongue
Gives loudly rolling sound

But tigers know
Their company;
They know their habits well

They do not jump
Or turn and flee
If they smell tiger smell.

When tigers stretch
And show their claws
They know not to beware

For tiger knows
Its own kind's paw
And knows the dangers there.

The End.

All things end,
endings come from closure.
Closure is the element of change
that people crave in their lives.
Closure brings endings, the minute
reward of completion.
Because of these things,
beginnings are perilous times.