Archive for the ‘Halloween Project: A Countdown to Halloween’ Category

so i was surfing the interwebs when i came across a site that shows what the inboxes of characters in movies, tv and literature as well as some famous people, might say. it gave me the idea for a new creative writing project; perhaps i may try a blog in the voice of a literary character or perhaps an object i have in my room. i had tried this from the perspective of a cat purse i once owned but didn’t keep up with it. i got idea back then from a violinist that does a blog from the perspective of her violin case, given that it has seen much and been with her everywhere.

my ideas are as follows:

Behemot- character from The Master and Margarita; he’s a huge black cat w/feisty personality 

Stuffed Bear- given to me by my BFF; i could add pics of him at various places to make it more amusing/entertaining. he is brown w/pink bow tied in front

my opera glasses- they see everything i do at my desk & on occasion, go to the opera like Sunday’s The Magic Flute put on by ALO

hats- i wear hats a lot so that may be interesting; i have six i could take on

my cat Cinnamon- she is very sassy w/a mind of her own; any cat owner knows that!

Stuffed Anubis- yes, it’s a black canine that i got from the Tut Exhibit i went to in Chicago several yrs. ago; i could also take pics of him at places and have them add to posts.

* If possible, please vote or suggest anything- NO BODY PARTS OR UNDERGARMENTS though. 



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my books as of late. i’ve adopted two new kids along the way- a Sinatra biography- The Voice and a book about forgotten symbols and such; those along w/The Idiot, Tess of the D’ Urbervilles, and Sherlock Holmes Vol. I have made up my reading list for some time but now that I am more at “peace” w/the rest of what’s going on w/me, I can take care of them and actually read them. hopefully i can finish them and move onto new books soon, in time for the holidays. to do this, i need to type up my list of: try these subtle changes and perhaps you’ll read more, etc. it’ll be a way for me to read during my time w/o getting side tracked, i hope.

whether or not this works i do not know but i’ll give it a go. a lot of these works have also influenced what i have been writing after my recent Halloween Project musings. i have to admit though, i do take great comfort and risk in writing about my angst. i realize many may read what i write and even if they know me, think- oh wow, she’s messed up. perhaps that is the case but then again i tend to think everyone is messed up but it’s just that some people are not as comfortable w/that part of themselves as others and that as a result, some people hide their “darker” or more colorful side a lot more than others.

i tend to wave my flag like it’s surfing a snowstorm. i’d like to think my flag is crimson with a chocolate chip cookie on it that mirrors the Comedian’s button from Watchmen. as a result, i’ve been called crazy which i detest to no end. i’m passionate you imbeciles, not crazy. there’s a difference- especially when one considers how a truly creative mind works. btw, many thanks to those that actually “get me”… my rant is not directed toward you 🙂

so, it is w/great pleasure that i attack some subjects, hopefully making them amusing for not only myself but for others.




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that read my Halloween Project pieces. I do appreciate the readers and comments. It’s hard to write about what keeps you up at night, what creeps you out yet makes you laugh at the same time, or to just write about macabre oddities.

If there are any ideas for future writing projects, let me know- I’m always up for the challenge.


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Amongst lonesome crags
Were rotting corpses in trash bags
They rested in manure
Home to insects of every nature
The human buoys would never know
The ocean below
Their souls would keep
Close to black crags and black sheep
Of the land where blood steeps

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Trapped by words and blood

She huddles near the floor

She clutches her toy cat

And hopes for no more

Yet COld words stream in

Tinged with Old fears

& accusations of sin

She does her best to

Bear it outwardly

And within

But too many sighs
Stagger in with frustrated cries

As she thinks

No wonder why some die

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Huddled them near

He kept them dry from

Dark and decrepit fear


He wore a tall black hat

And long black scarf

He toted a batty black umbrella

To guide them all about


The children loved him

And Their small hearts leapt

When escorted in abecedary by Mr. Death

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Plastic ivory shields her from others
Fake paint mirrors her self esteem
Disposable material reflects her murky insides
Dark hair cradles her frozen face
Silky curls rest upon a rotten pedestal
Her clothes shield an aging body


Grey paint highlights her cheekbones, her gloom
Black and dark blue surround red eyes of doom
Swollen crimson lips hide a surprise
She goes out, knife in hand
Steady breaths, relief
She no longer pretends

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