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I'm alive!

Nov. 19th, 2014 04:08 am
malapropian: (Default)
And somehow I have rediscovered some love for Naruto.

I've been writing a lot of Steter (teen wolf tv), but they're all WIPs... but so are my Naruto fics?



This is the important part. I did some writing on the Kakasaku Apocalypse AU! I know. I'm talking crazy, but it happened. I won't promise it'll be finished soon, but I've been writing this maybe 2k story for 3 years. It's not like a few months will make much of a difference.
I managed about 1000 more words on the apocalypse au while listening to The Jezabels. Go me? I wonder how much of it will even be usable once I've slept and can look at it with a mostly neutral eye... (not enough of it). Looks like insomnia is good for something, at last.

Somehow I wrote a second ending to it, when I've known for months that it was going to end a particular way... now I'm not sure if I should pick one or include both. I suspect that the story will have about another 2000 words before I'm done (making it around 6k), but I could be completely wrong. I could even have a third ending by then (dear hell, I hope not).

I suspect, that one of the themes has shifted out of focus with the latest addition. I'm not sure it's entirely a bad thing, but I swear that I'm never starting another story after watching The Road. Never again. I just can't do this bleak apocalypse thing with the grimdark future. (Okay, that's a lie. I love grimdark, but I still like a happy ending).

Someone please stop me from thinking about Shisui/Hinata au or otherwise. The faint beginnings of a plot are trying to come together in the back of my head, and I don't even need that a little bit. Anything I'd write would be worthless because it would have too much in common with "Some Words on Memory" or "Spectator". Self, stop reading things that are similar to what you want to write. It's terrible for your creative process (and your self-esteem).

Also, Self. Please stop abusing the parenthetical statements.
I did a bit of work on the apocalypse AU. It's still not anywhere approaching ready. :/ In the past, I was much faster at writing, but I also didn't care as much about the quality of my work. It's possible that I'm too paranoid, but the act of writing is going better than it has in several years.

Because I am afflicted with analysis paralysis, I'm pretty sure that I've changed a huge part of the premise (exploring the progression of the relationship from their sex without love and then sex without happiness and then just having sad, almost happy sex to all the sex being implied or off screen).

All of that aside, have a poem I didn't write.


Urban Love Songs (after Tzu Yeh)

You stop to watch the Mandarin ducks.
The rest of us continue on to the flamingo lagoon.
I would like to ask what attracts you to them.
But my feet keep walking, I don’t look back.

* * *
From a piece of cloth I cut out a heart.
In the Laundromat it is washed and dried.
I can spend whole hours watching it toss and tumble.
I wonder if you feel the same way as I.

* * *
I wave as you enter; you take your seat smiling.
This same coffee shop now feels crowded.
We whisper to each other:
all eyes have noticed something’s changed.

* * *
I’ve bought a new phone and an answering machine
because I know you will be calling.
Here’s the number, which only you will have.
I plan to change the tape every hour on the hour.

* * *
Our friends are laughing.
They say we sit so close in your old Buick
it has become second nature for me
to exit on the same side as you.

* * *
Pinocchio’s back!
Let’s relive that night at the drive in
when I whispered that his nose was giving me ideas
and you got into my pants for the first time.

* * *
You drop the laundry off going to work.
I bring the bag back when I come home.
Neatly folded, your underthings are left on the bed
- I wish to respect certain cabinets as yours.

* * *
You shut the window rushing to your covers
complaining of the cold night.
I need fresh air, but am willing to compromise.
Let’s just pull up the sash halfway, okay?

* * *
We hunt for photos in my parents’ storeroom.
Look how young I was and full of dreams.
On the way out you brush against a cobweb.
Your flailing arms make me afraid.

* * *
A firetruck screams through my heart.
Douse the flames! Douse the flames!
I awake to find my pillow soaked with sweat.
For a moment I thought it was my tears.

* * *
You’ve stacked your boxes neatly by the door.
I find atop one Chinese poems I had bought for us.
Quietly I take the book out.
I resolve to tell you this after you have moved.

* * *
For my clogged sink I called a plumber.
When my cat got ill I took her to the vet.
My heart is broken
- I will not ask you to come to mend me.

* * *
Last night you made me so mad.
I’ve resolved never ever to speak to you again.
I regret having to put my foot down so.
I’m sending you a telegram to let you know.

* * *
One friend I know cut her hair short.
Another shaved his beard without regrets.
I would walk this city naked and bald
if ever I thought I could be free of you.

* * *
After you, I took up jogging.
I wore through my running shoes in no time.
One night I chucked them down into the trash chute.
See how trim I am these days!

* * *
Once I bought a single chrysanthemum on a stem.
We watched it blossom, red and full.
Those times now bring a smile to me
finding its brown petals as I sweep the floor.

~ Wing Tek Lum


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