Moved In; No Internet

[liesinwriting]

I have moved in to my temporary abode. I'm staying with some good friends until I can move into the place where I'll be living for the next year. I'm eternally grateful they're letting me stay here.

Same time, there is no internet for at least a few days. (But wait, you say, this is a blog entry. Well, it is. I am typing it on my phone to combat internet withdrawal.) That means I can't post my writing until I go to a cafe, which could be tomorrow. I'm hoping.

I've discovered, quite by accident, how poetry is useful; more appropriately, how it can be useful for the ideas in my head. It forces an economy of words that is simultaneously a relief and a challenge. Now, if only Asimov accepted 116 line submissions....

Comments

[treppenwolf]

You have no internet? What kind of friends let their friends go without internet? Treachery. Treachery, I say!

Poetry is good. I like poetry. (Therefore it is good.) What singular circumstance forced... er, /opened/ your eyes to that realization? Have you found a favorite poet yet? Who is it? Why is it? TELL ME ALL THE THINGS @_@

If you lookin' for a challenge, here's a challenge. You write flash fiction? Write it. Here. Now. Limit: 300 words. Or you don't get dinner. And I drain your swimming pool too. Heh heh, how's da ottah gonna swim without his wattah, eh? He can't! Ha ha. So you write, an' you write shoht. Else I drain ya jacuzzi. Capiche?

- Rittah

299 Words on the Subject of Jacob

[liesinwriting]

So I used to have this friend named Jacob Weed, a self-described “free spirit” (which means he could never hold down a job) who was one of those unfortunate people who kept confusing people with whom he became close friends for people with whom he should engage in coitus. It always happened the same way: he would be without a steady paycheck or a place to live, and would call up one of his many friends and ask if he could live on their couch, just ’til he got back on his feet, you understand.

Inevitably, the answer was yes. And just as inevitably, he eventually slept with each of his friends. Then, also inevitably, the relationship would sour, and he would leave in an awkward fanfare of silence.

Now, Jacob had a sharp mind, and one day he realized that he had become trapped in a pattern, whereby he had lived in dozens of houses, apartments, and hotel rooms, but still had nothing to call his own, and no kind of steady life. So he decided to game the legal system, which he did with admirable aplomb, and took the extraordinary precaution of having his body approved as a de facto contract on the myriad possessions of those with whom he slept.

It was after this that Jacob came to me and asked for a place to stay. And of course, I accepted. And of course, I soon found the relationship had soured, and Will left - along with half of my worldly possessions.

And so, due to his diligent legal maneuvers, I have taken great pains to advise my friends to either decline Jacob’s requests, or else to have a good lawyer present for all extracurricular activities. After all... a friend in Weed is a friend in deed.

Re: 299 Words on the Subject of Jacob

[treppenwolf]

My God. I don't know what to say.

I cannot believe that you spent 290 words just to lead up to... that.

You are a horrible person, brake. A horrible, horrible person. And as your punishment, I'm lowering the word limit for your next challenge from 300 words to 250. Let's see you write *that*!