Yui-chan Posted June 6, 2003 Report Posted June 6, 2003 {Edit: Bah. One little freewrite doesn't deserve its own thread! Thus, this is going to become my freewrite haven. Don't hope for too much, because these will be short, rough, on-the-spur-of-the-moment diddies, and it's highly likely that some will just leave you thinking... "Huh?" It's okay. They're just exercises. I've decided to aim for 25 different freewrites, going for a breadth of subjects and feelings. It's a lot like a creative stretching regimen, but I won't take credit for the idea. I got this from another forum where someone is doing 500 tiny little speedpaintings. 500 was a little too intimidating for me, though, so I wimped out to 25. Don't laugh too hard, okay? ~Yui} #1 For You I sang for you this morning, as I always do, filling the air with my voice as you rushed from bed to closet and from bathroom to kitchen, eyes intent on your watch. My song was soft and sweet and gentle, and though you did not acknowledge it as you hurried through the house, I know that you heard and that some part of you loved it... and me. I saw it in your heart in that moment before the front door clicked shut. I danced for you this afternoon, as I always do, leaping and spinning and flowing with an unrivaled grace as you rushed from office to shop and from meeting to meeting, thoughts intent on your work. My dance was fluid and sensual and smooth, poetry in motion, and though you did not acknowledge it as you hurried through your tasks, I know that you saw and that some part of you loved it... and me. I saw it in your eyes in that moment before your office blinds flipped down. I painted for you this evening, as I always do, a beautiful work in brilliant colors and sweeping lines for you to see as you rushed to the gym, ego intent on your new workout suit. My painting was vibrant and inspiring and unique, a masterpiece the likes of which will never exist again, and though you did not acknowledge it as you hurried to aerobics, I know that you saw and that some part of you loved it... and me. I saw it on your breath in that moment before your trainer walked up. I waited for you tonight, as I always do, a silent presence in the void of darkness for you to take comfort from as you sleep, subconscious intent on images of all you've known. You lay there so still and peaceful, the harsh lines of your face smoothed by the hand of the Sandman upon you, your breath whispering from between your peach-soft lips. It was my touch that you felt when your brow furrowed against the nightmares and my whip that lashed the shadows back from your bed, and though you did not acknowledge it as you opened yours eyes to the night, I know that you felt it and that some part of you loved it... and me. I saw it in the tears you shed in that moment of memory. I heard it in the your whispers in that moment of longing. I felt it in the beat of your heart in that moment of pain. And though you did not acknowledge me as you mourned in our bed, I know that you felt me and that every part of you loves me... and deserves all that I will always do for you. {I want to revise this. I want to revise this. However, it's a freewrite, so I'm not allowed. ... maybe I'll re-write my freewrite at some point. Is that allowed? }
Tamaranis Posted June 6, 2003 Report Posted June 6, 2003 But it's a freewrite, so you should be free to do whatever you want with it. I don't think things are allowed to be unallowed.
Peredhil Posted June 6, 2003 Report Posted June 6, 2003 That's REALLY good as it is, in my opinion. It's scary how some people can project gratitude in reading someone's response, to give them energy to keep going. And sometimes they're right.
Aardvark Posted June 6, 2003 Report Posted June 6, 2003 It's like open source. Hack, carve and butcher as much as you want, just give credit and a copy of the original Well, it should be... [/nerd]
Peredhil Posted June 6, 2003 Report Posted June 6, 2003 I love it! [nerd]It has moments of intensity that made the pens in my pocket protector nearly boil! I wish I had a woman. outside of fantasies. who like me like that! Pushes up glasses and write a note in his PDA to have the tape replaced with repaired plastic. [/nerd]
Yui-chan Posted June 9, 2003 Author Report Posted June 9, 2003 Hi, all. Thanks for the comments. On the subject of freewrites, I consider them in the same light as speed paintings or figure studies in art. The key point in a freewrite is to learn to harness that fluidity of form and motion in your thoughts, just as the point of a speedpainting is to learn to see the basics of form and composition, the rough interplay of color, without getting bogged down by the details. It's more an exercise in tuning the way you look at the whole. In writing terms, I think that it's along the lines of focusing more on how you think about what's going into your writing than how exactly you write, if that makes any sense. In order to do it right, you must do it in the same way that you speedpaint, quickly and off-the-cuff, investing it with the moment's feelings and movement and nothing else. Details are superfluous. Revision obscures the point. That's not to say, though, that you can't use a freewrite to fuel a later work. I'll probably do something along those lines, one of these days, because while I lost my flow midway through this thing, I think it might have potential. So, that's why I said what I did. I probably made it all up, though, anyway. Don't mind me! ~Yui
Illianna Wolfsong Posted June 9, 2003 Report Posted June 9, 2003 I probably made it all up, though, anyway. *looks shocked* A writer... making things up?!?! *gasps*
Yui-chan Posted June 9, 2003 Author Report Posted June 9, 2003 #2 In Search of a Satisfying Crunch "Goddammit! You snot-nosed little monkey, I'm going to beat your grimey little face to a pulp!" The roar broke through the normal chatter of the market like a hammer through glass, and a hundred cloth-wrapped and sun-leathered faces turned as one towards the towering hulk by the fountain. The spider's-web of scars on his face gleamed white against the ruddy tones of his rage. Someone was in trouble. That someone made a beeline for the nearest dark ally, bare feet slapping on the hard-packed dirt. Those that noticed him quickly un-noticed him, turning their heads away, eyes downcast; the last thing anyone wanted was to get involved in a conflict that involved making Fadgha the Beast angry. That was never good for one's health, and more than a few people clucked their tongues in sympathy for the unknown focus of the giant's ire. They shouldn't have bothered, because he was having the time of his life. "Come get me, you pox-riddled ogre!" Two things were clear in the young man's voice: arrogance and confidence. He didn't sound nearly as insane as his actions determined he was. He didn't even look insane, his pitch-black eyes gleaming mirthfully under matching, unkempt hair. No, instead he looked dangerously dashing and incredibly fast as he dodged and weaved through the milling throng, the roaring behemoth hot on his heels. He probably should have regretted his goading words a few minutes later, when he made a wrong turn and ended up with his back to the wall. He probably should have meekly begged forgiveness for his mischief and prayed to Alah to survive the inevitable thrashing. Instead, he folded his arms across his thin, tanned chest and leaned back against the rough clay tiles. His teeth gleamed white against the darkness of his skin as he watched Fadgha stalk forward. He wasn't reacting properly at all! "You little whelp. You good-fer-nothin' son of a mangy desert rat!" They were probably the biggest sentences Fadgha had uttered in ten seasons. "Tsk, tsk... you should know better than to talk about a man's mother like that, Beast. It might anger me to hear you say such things." The wiry young man laughed as his opponent's shadow darkened him. He was more concerned, however, with a spot of dirt on the tan fabric of his open vest. That was probably a mistake. "Yoooooooooouuuuuuu!" Lacking eloquence in his rage, Fadgha settled for a mighty roar and an elephantine charge, lowering his head and shoulders as he lumbered towards the trapped young man. All things considered, it wasn't the smartest move, as his much-faster antagonist had plenty of room to dodge. Fadgha could have found himself on the wrong end of a collision with the wall. But, since when did the lad do as expected? Still wearing that cocky grin, the young man pushed away from the wall and brushed a hand through his unruly hair. His eyes gleaming, his back straight, and his vest now blessedly free of dirt, he watched the giant rumble towards him and reflected on the comedy of the moment. All of this over a stolen kiss with Fadgha's little sister. With a twitch of one curved brow, he wondered what the man's reaction would be if he knew what they'd been doing all night last night. He pictured that scarred head exploding in a fit of apoplexy and chuckled. Then he balled his fist and swung. Fadgha's jaw held, surprisingly enough, but the forces of gravity didn't last long against his opponent's superior strength. It was quite comical to watch his still-flailing feet catch up to the rest of him as he lifted into the air, sailing up and back the way he'd come. It really would have been an impressive flight, and probably would have broken a number of records, if not for the inauspicious placement of an overhead covered walkway between the buildings. Instead, Fadgha slammed into the structure hard enough to crack it and hung there for one heartbeat before he slid off and fell face-first to the dirt alley below. The giant landed like a sack of clay bricks and stayed just as still. "Well, that was ... interesting, brother. May I ask if there was a point?" The wall beside the fallen man grew a face, offering a rueful smirk to the lad as he sauntered over. The face grew into a head, shoulders and eventually a body as another young man stepped into the shadowed alley, his features clearly establishing his relationship with the young powerhouse. The djinn grinned a wolfish grin and stared down at the prone giant, nudging him with a naked toe. "Sometimes, you just need to hit someone."
Yui-chan Posted June 11, 2003 Author Report Posted June 11, 2003 #3 Within Welcome, Child of Morning, to the halls of my mind. Here is the essence that defines me and supports you. Here is my soul, laid bare for you. Look upon all that I am, all that you were created from, and find the answers you seek. The voice was a tickling whisper in the back of my mind, a presence that I could feel both within me and around me as I stood in the crystalline cavern. Within it was the wisdom of inconceivable age, the comfort of a loving mother, and a strange, mourning regret that I didn't understand. This was my world, the place that had created and sustained the nine races for all of time, a place of rippling mountains and raging waters, sun-bleached deserts and decaying swamps. This was Ii-tanai at the core of Her being, and yet it was nothing more than a cavern of amethyst deep within the ground. Dreams and longings wing through the stale air in visions of soft-glowing mist and ghostly reflection. Half-formed thoughts and musings reverberated through the massive chamber in soundless waves, whispering to me as they passed through my mind. Fear assaulted me while warmth comforted me. Anger ravaged me while tears fought free from the back of my eyes. I stood, surrounded by the ghosts of an immutable memory, and endured all that a sentient world had ever felt. It was beautiful. It was impossible. It was beyond anything that our wisest scholars could ever have hypothesized, and yet it was undeniably true. For all of time, we had been the denizens of a sentient world, the creations of a living being instead of the glad accidents of nature. Our very world was the Goddess that we had dreamed of and searched for, the Mother that every race had incorporated into their religions. I had stumbled upon the answers to our most ancient questions. That which is before you is often the hardest to see, Child. The world's amusement danced about me like fireflies of mirth, and I laughed in Her stead. I will never know if the elation I felt in that moment was mine or my creator's, but the purity of the feeling left its mark on my soul. I could have floated forever in the bliss of revelation, if not for the touch of a cold finger of grief against my mind. It lit up around me in a cold, purple nimbus, and as I looked around at the glittering expanse of the cavern, I could see that it permeated the space like stormclouds scattered within the mist. I could feel the storm gathering to break, and I feared to see what a world's grief could do. Still, I thought I understood it, with the wasting disease rampant on the surface far above me. I thought it clear that our Mother would be mourning for her lost children. In retrospect, I knew nothing. I stood before my maker with blinders of foolishness shielding my eyes from the wisdom and the truth around me, and thus I spent my time there searching for a cure instead of seeing the real problem. In the end, I had nothing but the great weight of a world's grief and a sense of immense failure. As I took my leave of that holy place, my world whispered to me in the weary voice of ages, Only one enemy in all of existence is invincible, Morning Star. When you know that enemy, you shall know the course you must take. Over the long, horrible months that followed, I would replay those words in my mind a thousand, thousand times, and yet it would be longer still before I could see the answers they gave me.
Nobody of Consequence Posted June 11, 2003 Report Posted June 11, 2003 Yui, these are truly excellent. I think you may have to aim for 500 freewrites, after all
Yui-chan Posted June 11, 2003 Author Report Posted June 11, 2003 My brain would dry out, shrivel up, and fall off long before I reached 500! X_X I'm not sure Aegon would enjoy wiping up my drool for the rest of our lives.
Peredhil Posted June 11, 2003 Report Posted June 11, 2003 Do you have the suggested list of freewrites? This looks like an intriguing exercise...
Yui-chan Posted June 12, 2003 Author Report Posted June 12, 2003 Peredhil and Ayshela, Certainly. I've posted the 500-race in the Cabaret room, so enjoy! I should mention, though, that while I'm writing after the same general idea, I'm not using their 636 topics. I wanted to write whatever was on the top of my head, instead. Thus far, I've sort of been letting the topics for my freewrites evolve out of my emotions at the moment that I start writing. *shrugs* I'll probably resort to their list if I get stuck, but otherwise, I'm just playing around. Have fun with it. Yours, ~Yui
Ayshela Posted June 12, 2003 Report Posted June 12, 2003 thank you! yes, freewriting with whatever's on your mind at the time is usually the best way to go. it's an intriguing list, however, and looks like a certain block-breaker. i think if i were to look over that list and have *nothing* come to mind to write about, i'd probably be dead.
Yui-chan Posted June 16, 2003 Author Report Posted June 16, 2003 #4 Rot You thought you were safe. You thought yourself among friends, but you know better now. You can feel it building in your gut, roiling within you like a caged beast, pounding on the fragile walls of your body, and you know that you been betrayed. You know. At first, it is just uncomfortable, a heavy dread in the pit of your stomach, a headache building behind your eyes. Soon, though, it becomes much worse. Your vision wavers and weaves dizzyingly, and you clutch at the table, trying despirately to steady yourself against the vertigo. You burn, and sweat breaks out on your forehead as you fumble for a chalice of water, the world spinning around you. You won't reach it, of course, since I moved it away while the others were watching you. We can't take the risk of the water diluting the poison, after all. Oh, don't look at me with that terrified, hurt expression and expect me to take pity on you. I'm quite enjoying watching you die, actually. I am waiting in quite a bit of anticipation for the -- ... ah, yes. Just like that. Your stomach is cramping in powerful spasms, now, clenching you double with its violent contractions. It's agony of the worst kind, the beginnings of a reaction that will end up with your own muscles tearing your insides to bits, your organs grinding themselves to jelly within your skin. Scream, damn you. I want to hear how much you are suffering. Open those hateful, steely eyes and let me see your torment in them, let me see how hurt you are by my betrayal. I want to enjoy every second of your suffering, every heartbeat of my revenge, so scream. Scream! Yes! ... just like that. Scream for me as your intestines knot and twist, as your heart stutters and stammers, as your head pounds and your eyes boil. I chose this for you with utmost care, so enjoy these last few, hellish moments. Think of all the things you've regretted in your life, and when you do, see the terrified face of my mother as you slew her husband. Hear the frantic screams of my brothers and sisters as you burned them alive within their home. Feel the pain of a woman who hated you, yet loved the son you forced on her body. She taught me, father. She showed me how to see the truth behind your lies, the darkness behind your pretty words, and what I have seen sickens me. You sicken me. And now, I have sickened you. I must play the part, of course, so here, let me hold your head as you convulse. Let me wipe your sweatslick hair back from your eyes and lean in close to comfort you. Let the last sound you ever hear be my voice whispering in your ear. "Your body matches your soul, now, father, sick and twisted at the core, rotting from the inside out." You barely have the strength to grip my arm, but you try, fixing me with a word written in a gaze. Why? I can only shake my head at your obtuseness. I thought you would have figured it out by now. As your last, agonized breath rattles in your chest, I lean down and give you the only gift you are owed for my existence. "Because I am my mother's son."
Archaneus Posted June 17, 2003 Report Posted June 17, 2003 I'm with Pered on this one. Yui, I have always admired you, you know. Great fan I am. Yes, great fan. ~swallow~
Yui-chan Posted June 19, 2003 Author Report Posted June 19, 2003 #5 Frantic The creatures in my bruised, black brain are dancing, jumping, dancing, leaping, rolling, wrestling, never sleeping, singing, yelling, shouting, laughing, screaming jokes 'tween spurts of clapping, waging war against my senses, driving busses through my fences, roaring, screeching, buzzing, spewing, taking, leaving, taking, doing, trampling footprints in grey matter, blasting hours of senseless chatter, rifling, ripping, bending, tearing, dropping, breaking, losing, scaring, taking all my hard-won thoughts and shovel'ing them in chipped clay pots, digging, sifting, slinging, dumping, scooping, throwing, flinging, humping, digging holes in all my plans, carting off ideas in cans, turning cartwheels, tumbling, flipping, climbing, falling, sticking, slipping! Those pesky little brain-mite bugs are making me FRANTIC! ARRGGGGGHHHHHH!
Yui-chan Posted June 20, 2003 Author Report Posted June 20, 2003 Hee. Danke, Ayshela. I showed those brain gremlins what-for! #6 Aftermath Simple words. They were all such simple words. Yet, hidden in them was a cutting blade, a stiletto poised to dart forward and cut yet another notch in her scarred skin. It hurt, as always, leaving a trail of blood to drip, drip, drip down her cheek, draining away with some more of her self-confidence and ambition. By now, though, the pain was old and familiar, and while the shock of the first few times had dulled with experience, still the ache of the cut, the sticky warmth of the blood, the weakness bourne of loss of worth assaulted her. Of course, she ignored it all, crumpling the note in her hand before she tossed it away with a nonchalant shrug. Her mind focused carefully on empty thoughts about how little it mattered, how little she cared. She reminded herself that it was a success, after all, despite that they didn't find it worthy. It had said what it was meant to say, taught what it was meant to teach, and drawn a pretty little moment out of the halls of her imagination. It had substance and story and meaning, and if it was less than perfect in some places, at least there were many others where it had come together flawlessly. Reason assured her that she'd succeeded. Reason reminded her that she should be proud. Reason dictated that their opinions did not determine the true value of the work. When the voice of reason had fallen silent, though, the throb of the wound screamed louder than ever. Self-delusion had never been one of her strong points.
Yui-chan Posted June 23, 2003 Author Report Posted June 23, 2003 #7 Song of the Broken The world was mist and shadows. The night was silence wrapped in pitch darkness. The trees were hands reaching to grab him, blades trying to scratch the skin from his bones and snatch the cloak from his shoulders. The leaves were sirens trying to scream to his pursuers, betrayers wanting to give him away, and they were succeeding. In... out ... in... out. He chanted the words in his mind, reminding his lungs to pump quickly enough to sustain his legs as he half-ran, half-stumbled through the thick, fogged foliage of the forest. He didn't dare stop, couldn't afford to stumble, his mind latched tightly to the song he heard in the distance, his eyes carefully fixed in the direction he needed to go. There was so little time that he didn't dare think about the abominations behind him, couldn't spare a thought for the fate he would suffer if they reached him before he found it. If exhaustion weighed down his limbs, he refused to acknowledge it. If he felt the blood that trickled from the scratches and cuts on his arms and face, he ignored it. If fear gnawed at his gut, he refused to fuel it any further. His mind got no further than which foot to move next and which way to dodge the tree branch looming at him through the white fog because he would not let it. Fear, doubt, pain, fatigue - these were all distractions that he could not allow. On this night, in this place, there was only the forest and the song. Anything else meant failure and loss. Thus, he ran for an eternity, eyes narrowed against the grey, shrouded forest, his lips caught tight in pained grimace. Around him, his own rasping breath and the occasional snap of a twig beneath his feet were the only sounds, his pursuers as silent as midnight. Within him, a melody as pure as new snow steadily gained in power, wrapping his shattered soul with the promise of comfort. The song provided hope that sustained him long after his own had been consumed, and he was able to keep moving towards his salvation until his head rung with the nearness and beauty of it. He broke through a clearing in the trees, tripping past the edge of the mist and into a clear, bright night. The full moon shone down through a cloudless sky, lighting the man sitting on the stump in the center of the small place, lining his face with the stark contrast of silver and black and glinting off the golden pipes in his hand. The apparition lowered the instrument and smiled at the runner as he stumbled into the light, and his eyes sparkled with all the wonder of the stars. His double smiled back, his eyes so black that they seemed to absorb the very light of the moon. He'd won. On the border of the misted forest, abominations screamed in frustration and anger, impotent in the face of the moon. They could not enter the clearing. They could not stop the reunification. They'd lost. In triumph, the two men embraced, and where they touched, sparks flew until the clearing was an explosion of radiant light. The abominations fell silent, first in fear and then in death, and every last twisted body crumbled to dust. The mist that had haunted the forest for eons burned away in an instant. The trees that had stood so long in darkness and decay, burst into verdant life once more, willed back from the darkness. A god reunited smiled down at his work and promised never to be broken again.
Nobody of Consequence Posted June 23, 2003 Report Posted June 23, 2003 Yui, this is becoming annoying ... mind, it's annoying because I'm suffering from literary constipation, at the moment. /me puts the bowl of sour grapes down to applaud /me glances at the bowl Hmm .. might be my diet ...
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