Radio Reality. City

  • Metal Fist – Journal 8/20/17 (8/20/2017)

    I identify with superheroes and villains who have metal fists. Bucky from Captain America, Doomfist from Overwatch, somehow the idea just resonates with me. Just like I’m a fan of sap gloves and the ancient Roman caestus, as well as knuckle dusters and brass knuckles in general.

    Melee combat is fascinating to me. It’s taking natural human ability and amping it up. Just like with heroes with metal fists. Everybody has a fist, but what if it hit much harder than natural? The spectacle is generally neat to me.

    Anyways, enough about Doomfist.

    Autumn is approaching in August again. I hear crows outside the window and the sunny skies have been painted over by cirrus clouds. Radio Reality City was founded on the image of a crow, and so I’m reminded of the origin story.

    My high school art mentor gave us the assignment to figure out our “power animal” and man a collection of drawings of said animal. We had to have a reason for the animal we chose, and so people who chose wolves because they were “alone and wise” were quickly shut down.

    I chose a crow. With the reason being that I found myself to be common, and loud. Crows are also quite an intelligent bird, having a decent memory and remembering faces for their lifetime. Never thought they would also be a symbol of autumn, but they are associated with Halloween and I should have realized that a little sooner.

    This journal’s excerpt will be from “Smoke Staver”:

    “In the old rain
    That now purges the haze
    And assaults the intrusion”

    I wrote this after going to Ellensberg. This one was about the recent British Columbia wildfires and how their smoke came and cloaked Washington in a haze for a week or so. Storms came in and wiped it away. After you break through the mountain pass, Ellensberg is in a world of its own and I’m really quite vexed by it out there all alone.

    It’s an hour drive from North Bend, and North Bend is already pretty isolated at the base of the mountains where the Western Washington portion of the state ends. After the Snoqualmie Pass, the Eastern side begins even though you’re Central. The mountains act as a shield and stop all the cold weather from crossing the state. So Central Washington is normally many degrees warmer than it is at my house.

    I like how alone an entire city is, and the history that led it to be where it is.

    I used to be quite taken by Olympia, but things seem like they’ve cooled off on it thanks to recent events. I think Ellensberg has taken me as a muse quite completely. Even to consider going to Central Washington University because of it.

    Short journal today. Still a lot of thoughts cascading around and even more to put onto paper.

    Thanks for breaking 5,000 views this year so far! Not bad for a little self-publishing thing of mine!

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  • Metal Fist – Journal 8/20/17 - I identify with superheroes and villains who have metal fists. Bucky from Captain America, Doomfist from Overwatch, somehow the idea just resonates with me. Just like I’m a fan of sap gloves and the ancient Roman caestus, as well as knuckle dusters and brass knuckles in general. Melee combat is fascinating to me. It’s taking …

    Continue reading Metal Fist – Journal 8/20/17

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5 Random Poems (More on the Poetry page)

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A Short Story 

  • Deneb Mythos #1: The Courier - What would you do as a young boy in the bustling city of Hertkur? So much temptation to join the military… become a shopkeep… or any normal stable thing all the other boys seemed to drift towards. No, this young boy has much loftier goals. Step into the shoes of one of the most dangerous occupations in …

    Continue reading Deneb Mythos #1: The Courier

For more of those, go to Short Stories and Not-So-Short Stories.

Featured Essay – En[g]RAE[y]ged. (From the page for Essays)

Random Content: [Open Mystery Box]

  • Concrete Blocks

    Concrete Blocks

    There is a field far away from here
    With a pink sky and orange clouds
    Where flowers bloom yellow and red
    Where butterflies roam and spread

    Here the concrete blocks rest
    People come to them every day
    But the blocks quietly observe
    As people go on with their way

    In deep cover, under mystical guard
    The blocks were left here as a gift
    Ancient relics left and made to stay
    For years they’ve talked to all of us

    So come with me to the concrete blocks
    Where no one will hear us talk
    Except for the others, who are very special
    And even they can keep all kinds of secrets

    Look at me and speak the truth
    I have many friends who are here
    Here to listen to what you say
    Here to witness the events of today

    Hold my hand and rest your shoulder
    Feel my cold friend beneath us
    Warm with me, my friend won’t mind
    It’s making him comfortably colder

    Run your fingers along the cracks
    Track the dirt and rubble with hands
    Listen to what the concrete says
    Listen to the history it has seen

    All the people who have passed
    All the people made of glass
    Shallow puddles and hard rain
    The blocks have seen everything

    Hold my hand and rest your shoulder
    Run your fingers along the cracks
    Listen to what the concrete says
    The blocks have seen everything