Looks like I couldn't finish what I promised, I'll have the surprise up by this weekend. I know, I know I'm slacking. Was sick the past few days and I'm still recuperating. Plus a bunch of stuff have been going on at work that's being carried over into life at home, that shouldn't be.
Lola means Grandmother in my language, and yes I was raised to be Catholic. Alas, I found that knowledge and sin don't go hand in hand with religious theology. I won't debate with anyone, they are happy to choose the beliefs that make them happy. It's a free world. We have one life. Why waste it arguing.
So here's a Tuesday 100 story for all of you (and yes, it's true. I wanted to be a Saint: Superpowers), an old 100 word fail at a limerick (FYI: it was just for fun, I do not condone raping as a hobby), and a creepy story where I wanted to try telling it from a second person perspective.
Once again, enjoy my stories. I hope you're all having a wonderful day.
09/03/2013 (Tuesday)- Oh Lola
As a child I told my grandmother, that one day I’ll be a Saint: with superpowers to perform miracles. A few years later I told her I’d be a Priest: that must be where you start in order to become a Saint.
Today she asks me if I still remembered that, and if I had any intentions of becoming a priest. I sat her down and told her the truth.
“Lola, I’m an atheist now.”
‘What does that mean?’
“That I don’t believe in God.”
My grandmother looked me in the eyes, ‘You’re going to Hell.’“… I love you too.”
12/06/2011 (Tuesday) A Creepin' We Will Go
A genteel man of today I am,
So charming, and witty! (Good evening ma’am!)
I’ll follow her all night~
‘Til she turns off her light!
Then (Hello!) through her backdoor I ram!
Don’t make a sound, your neighbors may wake!
I just couldn’t resist, satisfying an ache~!
I truss you all up!
You’re my own loving cup~!
Oh~ho! Don’t worry I won’t let you break!
A genteel man of today I am (so they say),
Night ‘til morning we tossed in the hay.
She sobbed! She cried!
I was a kid on a slide!
My lust just wanted to play.
7/12/2013 (Friday)- Hush Little Baby, Don’t You Cry…
This is just a dream.
You can tell this is a dream. The edges have blurred, an obvious distortion of reality. The air is thick like jam, hard to breathe and not as sweet… tastes a little like pennies today.
You tell yourself this is a dream. Lying flat on your back, trying to move an arm or leg to wake yourself up, knowing if you do the spell would be broken.
You lie to yourself that this is a dream. As blood pools around you, the knife sticking up like a crucifix.
This is just a dream.