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Eric Harrell commented on the post, beer 2 weeks ago
An excuse to be weak. A façade of charisma. A pseudo-strength. Beer is the word, alcohol is the subject. Justify the destructive nature. Pilfering your liver’s health and poisoning your mind.
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Eric Harrell commented on the post, clasp 3 weeks, 3 days ago
I clasp the seven cards within my hand and the moment will filled with apprehension. My sweaty palms clung to the cards as I clung to the edge of my seat, hoping, expecting and appreciating my opponents move. He made it, I made mine. Fortune favoured me today, though I shall not anything to hold its sway. Once in turn for me, is another against me and I absolute accept that.
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Eric Harrell commented on the post, bowling 3 weeks, 5 days ago
How I’d wished this morning for failure, instead my life attends to bowling. Not the sport, no, recalling a scene of that would be too easy but rather the process of making a ceramic bowl part of Kizaemon’s bowl technique of colonial Japan, I seek to create the fragmented and ordinary pieces. The most ordinary exhibit the greatest mystery.
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Eric Harrell commented on the post, planter 3 weeks, 6 days ago
Shelly was a planter, things that weren’t hers grew as seeds in whatever she sowed. Burns wasn’t certainly conniving nor did he harbour much hate, yet the seed in his mind put his entire character at stake. Finally at the scene where the two of them meet, Shelly tells Burns a truth to water the seed and salt his wounds, the anger brewed and then Burns tragically set what he loved most on Fire. All ends are ominous as the thought of them is neither sadistic nor twisted yet instead, quite profound.
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Eric Harrell commented on the post, magenta 1 month ago
Magenta world colliding sundered the universe in two, a speckled black paste filling the abyssal cracks. Shouldn’t have fallen, should have never been but forces of reality came to an untimely conclusion. Alteration caused the fact.
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Eric Harrell commented on the post, burrow 1 month ago
It has been a while, like a plaster cast breaking free I unfurl my brow and edge my fingers over the keyboard. I picture a choir in the background, an ominous call like those in churches as I begin to type. The music swells as I burrow into my work, my head cast forward (the drums start now), my fingers fully immersed into the writer’s spirit (the voices thrum in harsh heaves) and I finish with a period and sit back to marvel the work, reclining as the music fades…
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Eric Harrell commented on the post, flour 1 month, 2 weeks ago
We dropped the bag of flour on the floor when we saw what was on the horizon. The bag seal popped off and the white powder threw itself like a wave across the floor, taking the shape of the tiles as another cloud of light flour lifted into our faces. We couldn’t take our eyes off the horizon, it was as black as night long past dawn, a cloud of white in the distance and a creeping wave was rushing towards us.
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Eric Harrell posted a new activity comment 1 month, 2 weeks ago
I feel infused with a warm passion reading your post. What are the red vines? Are they the velvet handles or quite literally some embodiment of a creeping passion. A very nice post, felt compelled to reply. Why apologize though?
In reply to - sevenwords commented on the post, vines Red vines on the seat barrier between us as we watch the movie on the screen. I slowly pick one up. Twizzle it around my finger. Chew a bit, in what i hope to be a slightly seductive or at least cute manner. I’m not into the movie at all don’t care about the Mila Kunis-esque girl on the screen all I really care about is you, and your breathing right next to me. I peek out the corner of my eye and edge my hand slowly over the barrier, the red vine flavor still sweetening my mouth, blurring my judgement. But I do this only to find you’ve grabbed my fingers quickly, hungry. You turn to me a twinkle in your eye. “Sorry.” • View -
Eric Harrell commented on the post, vines 1 month, 2 weeks ago
Vines up my University buildings, walking on the adjacent side-walk, they just seem like an infection. Since when have ivy vines become synonymous with academic prowess, is academic prowess even a feat? Shouldn’t we decry those who subsist on the finances of their parents and recluses who think they are more entitled than others for it? I guess my respect for a man or woman juggling jobs and dreams have no place here. What’s disheartening is that I see no avenue to change any of that.
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Eric Harrell commented on the post, bagel 1 month, 2 weeks ago
Thrust me back through that hole, past the sesame stocks, past that scorched ground, into the granulations of its creator.
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Eric Harrell commented on the post, tornado 1 month, 3 weeks ago
Big ol’ Brown was like a tornado come this way through Kansas. Swirling eddies for his beards and a cackle to sheer off the hair that makes you feel like a man. He’ll take your woman and show you a joke about what’s black and blue. Better to stay clear, big wigs don’t mean nothing to this bat outta hell!
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Eric Harrell commented on the post, boots 1 month, 4 weeks ago
A shrill in the distance as we march. Our boots plunging into the mud with every precise step. Drums keep tempo behind us and we stare at the heart of the republic. Our goal, Rome. Our music, in our hearts. We pine for vengeance, knowing that we would achieve fragment of it. Crixus, Agron. Lead us as leaders, yet I do not serve in shackles. I follow in freedom, despite how fortune favours us. To be legends, the sowers of fear in the lion that is the Roman Empire. My boots carry me to that end.
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Eric Harrell commented on the post, beware 2 months ago
Beware the dog of my old neighbour’s yard, he barks and may have an appetite for little boys. How do I know? We’ll little wild Bill, you bet that I swear that I’ve seen that old crone invite Nebraska Huey, yes the one that don’t come around here anymore. You know why? Old Nana next door invited him over and I heard the dog hollering later that day. Come morning fence bled red from the other side, all I heard was that dog chewing.
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Eric Harrell commented on the post, pained 2 months ago
It pained me to see you go, walk through that door with your braids waving goodbye. Know that I haven’t forgotten you, your sweet smile and your fragrance. How everyone has influenced me, and how many more times I’ve been influenced by you. I bid you adieu, my love, my comfort…my sweet, lovely, innocence.
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Eric Harrell posted a new activity comment 2 months ago
I don’t think I can write without having some loose idea in mind or that I recognize in retrospect but I enjoyed your post. And thanks for the reply, take care.
In reply to - Alice Lovelace commented on the post, blasted Blasted emotions. Blasted mind. Blasted. Nothing much though… But I think it reminds me of the world today. Blasted. Screwed up. Messy. Even more cruel than ever. It needs to be fixed again. • View -
Eric Harrell commented on the post, cities 2 months ago
Cities are my realm. Not my ownership but rather cities are the place that my life owes itself to. To be separated from the burgeon and the noise and the surmising tide of silence means a silent death. Rural life, suburbia, it can be beautiful but so can artifice, so can motion, in a way despite being so far from nature I still feel closer to life. Maybe this opinion is from modernity, maybe from comfort or fear of the unknown but in experience, I can sit at a bench on a side-walk and get more pleasure, bear more thoughts and access more ideas because of the potential movement. The silence and relaxation doesn’t feel forced as the only option as it can in nature but is more deliberate because of its pronouncement. I intended to talk about the guiding force of a cityscape but I’ve realized a fact about myself as my small thoughts and ill-formed observations now coalesce into this paragraph. This is why I write on oneword.
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Eric Harrell commented on the post, overt 2 months, 1 week ago
Now should I pretend to be that has transcended me. No, why should I? Should I vilify that which is so opposing? I’d rather prefer to strike up a conversion with my mind’s schism, like Dostoevsky’s protagonist leftie, a voltaire of his time.
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Eric Harrell posted a new activity comment 2 months, 1 week ago
Hi came across your comment just wondering why you think the world is ”blasted” or messy. I don’t disagree with you, just interested in another contributor’s opinion
In reply to - Alice Lovelace commented on the post, blasted Blasted emotions. Blasted mind. Blasted. Nothing much though… But I think it reminds me of the world today. Blasted. Screwed up. Messy. Even more cruel than ever. It needs to be fixed again. • View -
Eric Harrell commented on the post, blasted 2 months, 1 week ago
Frantic as Raskolnikov’s second kill, similar too is my opinion to myself. Oh how the sands fall and the hour-glass grows thin. If only fate would have a sign, to sit and bide my time or wallow in a bit of shame and arrive to class without any knowledge of this week. Surely I was blasted off my bedsheets in this heightened state, with good reason at this crossroads there is no other way to describe my entrance.
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Eric Harrell commented on the post, returned 2 months, 2 weeks ago
I’ve returned from a long sleep, a dull affair of lying still and rolling my pupils back. Should I contemplate my existence by reviewing that strange dream? Is it worth it? I came back from a long trip and had received something that which once was lost. I have no idea what that is, I have no idea if I should continue. What if the key to my existence was just lost, what would describe it being found once again?
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