Insightful little wreck,
With your stumbling pity.
You stand up in your high rise
looking down upon the peasants,
and you think, oh, how desolate.
How weak, how underprivileged.
Author: alexis
The Levels of Dying: Part Four
Andrew chewed his nails nervously as he watched the hooded man approach him slowly. He sat on the edge of a wooden bench, surrounded by various strangers all rushing to one place or another in a scream of metal, footsteps and phone calls. The muffled intercom relayed the upcoming trains, but it was all but unnoticed by his pursuer, whose steady gaze bore at Andrew like no one else could. Andrew pulled his hand away from his mouth cautiously, and reached inside his right-hand pocket until he felt something cold, hard and smooth.
Why Are We Doing This?
It’s so easy to look at the world and the news and think the world is becoming a more violent place. We hear about bombings and be-headings, and we thank God they didn’t happen anywhere near us. A man shoots into a crowd of people in Vegas at a concert. A building explodes…
The Levels of Dying: Part Three
Marianne Dresnik and Ali Oswald, the Trapper and the Tinker, raced together up the final landing of the underground prison, narrowly avoiding two crossing guards as they passed under them. Red lights flashed and alarms blared on every level, and they had been lucky to encounter only a few adversaries thus far. Of the ones Ali did not take down with th
The Tallest Statue: Part One
The Midgard’s treated foreign nobility fairly and richly, and made them feel higher than the norm. They gave them gifts and exotic foods, and sung them songs. Their people spoke in a language that always seemed to have two meanings. It was unique and vague, but hardly cruel. Everything about the Midgard’s was admirable and intelligent, though it did not lack in disguise. That is what Perdita found most appealing. The lavish room in which Perdita was placed made her own palace loo
I Am Queen
In his shadow I am Queen, forever vowed as protector and servant, but also as bodily slave. There are pawns and knights, and I am somehow lesser, yet I continue to play. The strategy is my game and he, the final victor. My body, my soul. His glory. What am I? Pawn? Passion? Prayer? I am Taken, and he is coward. I am off the board, so who is my opponent? I look aside for the final move. Now they all see it: Checkmate. #feminism #marriage #queen #knight #pawn #king #chess #game #strategy #poem #ch
The Insensitive Hybrid
Complicated beings build a simplified Existence. Smothering kindness and forever holding our breath for the next knife in our backs. In all that brittle baring we bare our teeth and Burn our hair. Woman, man and the Other stand in pretend unity to preach their cause to empty listeners with texting hands. Inside we are creative, but outside: facades are all we paint, post and preen and Primal are our fears. Social is our angst and our anguish. We say nothing when we Know, and we speak when we kno
Corrupting Our Youth: A Guide to Being Overly Opinionated and Repressing the Youth of Tomorrow
Oh, hello there. I’m a Millennial. Didn’t you know? I watch Netflix and play violent video games and watch sexually explicit television series. I also drink alcohol, and, I once threw a remote at my sister’s head. I was five, but still. Haven’t you heard? Kids these day are psychopaths. All of us. We have been so corrupted by the world that we don’t even know the difference between right and wrong anymore. It’s all just… shades of gray. And, do you want to know what the leading cause of our horr
The Incredible, Undeniable Enigma of Poutine & Canada
There is much to be said for Canadian’s and their infamous ways. We are somewhat of an enigma to the rest of the world, and especially to our southern neighbours. We live in igloos, we play hockey, we ride polar bears to our day jobs at the maple syrup factory, and our diets subsist of bacon, and this mysterious meal rarely seen outside our own borders: Poutine. We are a majestic and bearded populace, and we have great taste when it comes to beer. Oh, and free healthcare. That’s a thing. The ‘Po
Surviving Customer Servitude
When starting their first job, most people are at the lowest rung. Me? I was there at least four times before I finally crawled my way through the glorious swamp they call ‘the workforce’. Customer service, especially for a person who struggles with social cues (AKA an introvert), is possibly the worst imaginable thing when picturing a first job. Or a second. Or even a third. Okay, so holding a stop sign for fourteen hours probably isn’t that exciting either. But, nothing is worse for a