imagevoxstudio's profile 
AGE:
39
LOC: Davis, CA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: December 02
LOC: Davis, CA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: December 02
I have been a writer for a very long time. It became my place of refuge, very early in life….A place i could create…imagine, give life to. As I grew older, the things I began to notice day to day, the themes became darker…as did the impact upon me. I started as a short story fiction writer…and later in my late teens developed a taste for poetry, or prose. I feel comfortable writing this now, it is the “street” style for me. I appreciate any time you take to review or even look at my work. I hope that someone, somewhere, can hear the voice, and take something of value from it.
Cheers.
Steve
for samples of my other artistic works…
www.myspace.com/imagevoxstudio
Items
Version 1
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THERE IS NO SECURITY IN YOUR WORLD... THE ONE THING, YOU WANTED TO HAVE. THE SAFE, SUBTLE FACE... THAT ONE ALWAYS DREAMS OF WAKING TO. I THOUGHT I WAS THAT FOR YOU; ONE TIME. IT MADE ME FEEL SPECIAL, IT MADE ME FEEL LIKE I WAS HOME. SOMETHING I HAD NEVER FELT BEFORE... AN EYE IS AN EYE, YOU SEE THEM EVERYWHERE. YOU SEE THEM WANDERING, AND WHEN YOU SEE THEM WANDERING, IT TEARS YOU UP INSIDE. SHE NEVER KNOWS HOW MUCH SHE SPEAKS, THOUGH VERBALLY SAYING NOTHING. SENTENCES... ...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
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i feel these thoughts fall upon me like tears on my shoulder being wept by a lover with whom my relationship has run its course i take on the burden of guilt for all the worlds sins like a prodigal son because i am at my best when allowed to suffer
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Version 1
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i hear my voice the dry empty words falling from my lips burning their way into the atmosphere like a peice of lunar rock being chilsled from the brain of the man on the moon these words drop like stones because there's no gravity i am not in space I'm speaking on dead ears i know because she smiles and turns away
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Version 1
0 Reviews
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Cocktails, one more please. allow me to marinate in Jack's Southern snap pickle me pink make me laugh force my stomach to turn and fight the bitter liver attack allow the green to flow freely from my hands as the eighty-proof slides down my throat putting my mind at ease making me feel i can do as i please drink up fall down watch the room spin round and round cocktails, one more please.
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
8 Reviews
0 Comments
we all have beginnings... whether it be having to contest... consent... the fact... that you have never before heard ...the band of the moment... or the fact that you are already way past curfue... and she wants it. there is no way you are going to make it. on either front... this is the youth I miss... not the missed monthly bills.. from the fatal drunken mistakes. not the cold, wet, toilet seat... on my fucking face... something less real.. less of an ordeal... like a government mob, job....
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From the onset of the piece you grab the readers attention with very strong descriptions. They immediately place you in the scene...what will happen next. I am new at reviewing flash fiction, so please excuse any oversights. I really like the cats pushing the auto lock on the uhaul...it is the kind of "action" that takes place when we least expect it...and with the car running...these things do happen. It is not something you would think of until someone mentions it happening to them. I have ...
50.0% Review Quality (2 Votes)
I really enjoyed reading your piece. The thing that immediately jumps out at me is that you choose to really focus in on the sounds of the actions around, even more so than the visual. It is effective, because as a reader I really was able to imagine the visual images you were describing with much more detail. I think this is something a lot of writers may miss, the sound of things. Sounds have built in visual indexes, and I think describing sounds really helps with the decriptions of the oth...
It would seem that this is in the wrong category. To me, horror builds upon common fears to drive fear and suspense in others. Though the words in this piece are dark, the reason for these feelings are never exposed. There is never even a tilt towards what might have caused this deterioration of the self and the soul, therefore there is nothing, in my opinion for the reader to relate to, grasp, or envision. What causes the soul to be hellish? That is the question that keeps coming back to me ...
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