purple prose

14 Sep

seriously what are you thinking Mrs. K, setting a bunch of eleventh graders loose with the order to basically write purple prose about FEAR.

man i can see it now:

“Johnny, trembling torturously, turned the bright brass knob of the wooden door-type-thing until it was flush with the side of the opening plate thingy. He pulled the door open like a snail pulls its antennae out of its head.”

and on and on and on…oh god, I am ashamed that I have to write something like that, and in present tense, no less. I suppose I’ll survive this demeaning…thingy, though there are three more assignments of the same. I am writing it now, and actually it is really, really fun. Though ridiculous when read out loud- seriously, if I have to describe the way someone opens a freaking door in more than five words I know it’ll be ridiculous.

Here it is, if you’d like to read it:

Creeping towards the disturbance, his eyes furiously dilating to frantically capture any iota of light and miserably failing, he hears the noise again. As the horrible shriek of metal on metal, the sound of falling rusty chains, fades, his face forms an apprehensive rictus as he slowly, gingerly eases the weathered old door open. Nothing greets his quick anxious gaze, but it is the lack of something that makes his mind more frantic, his heart beat faster than before. He takes a cautious, wary step outward, pushing the screen door gently aside praying it won’t make a sound. The pitch-black night looks back at him through many taciturn eyes as he bites his lip and tastes the iron blood in his mouth. A light breeze rustles the tall oaks around the house as the mysterious sound comes again from behind him, deafening and closer than before. Heart pounding in his chest, rattling his ribs and seeming to shake his very body apart, he whirls around to find nothing again. This shakes him to his core, and he stands there for a few seconds, arms protectively around himself, before seeing a shadow flit swiftly across the lighted field. He runs towards it, stumbling and panting heavily in his rush, and finally thinks he sees the terror in front of him- reaches out- it is nothing again, and he sinks to the grassy ground sobbing, ignoring the itch of the ragweed and the sting of the nettles around him. His mind is on the brink of insanity, his eyes flicking from side to side nervously, unceasingly. His body shakes with ragged breath mixed with sobs as his hands twitch. The noise appears again, wafting through the air like a lazy breeze, and he stiffens as he hears the grasses behind him part. He turns so quickly he can hear the air whoosh past his ear, and is speechless, his eyes opened wide and his mouth agape in a silent scream as he realizes what he sees.

But I digress.

Oh what was that band- Oh yeah! Interpol! I haven’t ranted much about them yet!
They are lovely and kinda like if Modest Mouse took some downers and decided to make a few lovely slow albums. The guitar is just echoey and sublime- I really like these guys. They’re like the older, more mature cousin of Modest Mouse and the recent Kings Of Leon. RESPECT IS DESERVED.

hey so



Basically, I went on CuteOverload and this was on the front page smiling at me. W-who the hell makes huge inflatable duckies? I’m probably sure this was some sort of promotion for a corporation, but still! Huge rubber duckies floating in lakes? 
Okay, actually read the post, it’s some sort of art thingy by a Dutch guy. Kudos!

And this is just…whatwhatwhat:


I…I have no words. Thank you, CuteOverload, for these…uh, interesting…photos.



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