Apatheticwriter13's profile
AGE:
21
LOC: Marrero, LA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: November 07
LOC: Marrero, LA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: November 07
I’m a bored twentysomething living in New Orleans. I’d like to change the world, ala Kurt Cobain, but I sleep too much to do it. I mainly like Dada and surrealist stuff, as well as postmodern literature. I dunno why but art fascinates me. Anyway contact me if you wanna talk or whatever. I’m open….
I also maintain a blog at http://thoughtsaboutlife.today.com/
Come check it out if you’ve got that sort of free time.
And if you like my writing, come see me as the New Orleans Celebrity Headline Examiner: http://www.examiner.com/x-26614-New-Orleans-Celebrity-Headlines-Examiner
Copy and paste away, o’ yee faithful.
Items
Version 1
5 Reviews
3 Comments
Death is a disease growing inside all of us. We aid it by every day, smoking, fucking, testing the chances of our limitations, seeking thrills but finding only the cold, bony hands of the Grim Reaper to guide us into Hell. It's a cancer that festers inside our very souls, it gnaws at our insides, and we feed it. I see it every day, walking the streets. I see it in the mutilated remains of a dog that's been run over in the street, I see it in every news report of a downed airplane, I see it s...
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Version 1
2 Reviews
2 Comments
A darkness unfolds. I see only you standing there, amidst a mist of clouds and fogs. Worms dig in the Earth and I can hear them. Ground, cement, rough pebbles and only a grey concrete to comfort me. The moon is half-crescent and the crickets chirp, a silent chorus for a meeting with just the two of us. Eerie breezes, blowing from all directions, glimmering twilight, the horizon expanding just beyond where I can see, the endless expansion of the nocturnal sky, whose stars never stop shin...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
9 Reviews
7 Comments
(It is a bright and early Sunday morning. A church, sparsely but ornately decorated. The floor is a glossy shade of gold, looking freshly waxed. Towards the back, a stained glass window. A few rows of benches line the church. A medium-sized altar to the side. Two men, Cane and Abel, sit in their seats facing the front. They continually stare off into space, their hands on their laps, dressed in brown rags and beat-up hats. Finally, Cane speaks.) Cane: What day is it? Abel: Sunday. Cane: Wasn&...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
36 Reviews
16 Comments
Myself, Tom, Stan, and Theodore stood at the edge of the universe, watching the swirling galaxies, the stars, the suns, all of space. Stan sat crouched on an asteroid, his hands to his chin. "Earth, what do you think that is?" he asked. We all looked around for a minute and it became quite obvious. "Well, Stan, everyone knows it's a planet," I guffawed. "No, no, no," he shook his head, "I know that. But what genre would you classify it under?" "Genre?" Theodore questioned. "Yeah, yeah, genre...
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Reviews
Very strong piece. You keep it to-the-point and focused. I liked how you discussed his art and what it exactly meant and its details. While analyzing his works is good, I'd like a slight bit more detail/background info on this guy. You said it made you interested in him; but who exactly is he? Where did he grow up, what motivated him to do art, etc. That sort of thing. The last line felt out-of-place and like it was tacked-on. Either scrap it, or put it in earlier and expand on it a bit. Othe...
Repetition of sharp in the second line kinda throws the rhythm of the poem off. But maybe that's just me. The repetition of the details and specific words causes the poem to build, giving it an almost weighty quality. I like how this reflects history and the culture of the Incas amassing in power as well. The way you describe her hair especially touched me. I liked that part. Overall, some vivid details. I also appreciate how you look at this woman from all angles and consider all the differe...
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