Sunday, 18 December 2011

10. The detective saw his opportunity. He grabbed the waitresses arm and said...

"Don't go outside until your shift is finished. Your life is in danger." She looked confused, but agreed to his request. He let go of her arm and walked through the kitchens and out the door that the staff would use to have a smoke. He looked left and right, before reaching into his jacket to pull out his .38 colt.  He held the gun low, pointed towards the ground so as not to alarm a passerby that may not notice it in the dark. He knew the offender must have been stalking the women from the abandoned warehouse across the street. He walked over to the derelict building and pushed open a rusted door. It opened with a loud groan and he cursed that he'd not thought it might have done that.

Dan was greeted by an immediate staircase, taking him to a second level of the factory. He climbed the staircase slowly, his gun out in front of him now. From the mesh balcony he stood on now, he could see almost all of the first floor of the factory, save for the small office in the back corner. He was unsure as to were the suspect could be. The abandoned building was huge. He skulked along the railing, keeping his back to the external wall so not to be ambushed from behind. He winced each time he would kick a nail or screw from where it had been precariously perched, before he sent it falling to the cement ground below, where a quiet ring would emanate throughout the vaste expanse of warehouse. He tread more lightly from then on, keeping more aware of his movements. It was then that he heard it, a small ring from the opposite side of the warehouse, indicating that the unsub had made the same mistake he had just moments before. He cast his eyes across the eery gloom but it was too dark for him to see into the shadows of the far side of the warehouse. He hoped that his was also the case for the stranger.

The only way for Dan to cross the expanse without being seen would be to creep his way across the wall to the left side of the building, then use that shadow to creep across, avoiding where the glow of the moon lit up the middle expanse of the shed.

Yeah so I got bored with this one, I guess that crime writing is not for me! I suppose I may come back later and play with it :p Do all things beautifully JP xx

9. Silvery flakes drifted down, glittering in the bright light of the harvest moon. The blackbird...

hopped across the top of the fence. Stopping to bob on each post as he made his way across the partition. From across the yard, a small boy watched from his foggy window. His small round face flushed pink and full of inquisitive wonder as he followed the small bird on his path. How he longed to go outside, to play in the snow with the other kids from town. All he could ever to was watch. He turned his attention back to the dimly lit room that was his prison. The room was dank and musty, and he resented being locked in here. He climbed back on his bed, the chains scraping against the harsh metal frame as he pulled his legs up behind him. He curled up on his bed, awaiting the return of the man he hated and loved. He seemed like a nice man, bringing him food, buying him clothes and toys. But he didn't understand why he had to chain him up to the bed. He wasn't going to run away. He might have at first, tried to find his mummy again, but he didn't want to now. He couldn't remember how long he'd been kept here, in the dark room, but he hardly remembered his mum anymore. Her kind face was no longer clearly visible in his memory, and he had lots of fun toys here.

He heard a loud clunk,  and sat on the edge of his bed as he anticipated the arrival of his captor. The young man swung open the door before entering the small room. He had with him a plate, which held a sandwich - peanut butter and jam by the looks - and made his way over to the bed.
"Are you hungry?" he asked kindly.
"Yes," the boy said simply. The man handed him the plate and the boy murmured his thanks, before shooting a small smile up at the kind man. When he had finished, he handed the plate back to the man.
"Can I go outside today?" he started, hurrying once he began so that he might get it all out, "Just for a moment, I'd like to play in the snow, we don't even have to leave the backyard!" he said.
"Alex, you know you can't go outside. The world is dangerous, there are too many people that want to hurt you," he said, his kind blue eyes bearing down on the small boy, his face stern, but not unkind. He seemed genuinely concerned for his welfare.
"You know I can't let them hurt you," he said, "but I tell you what, I'll see what I can do about that snow." he smiled, before standing and exiting the room. He grinned at Alex as he pulled the door closed behind him.

Alex returned to the windowsill, suprised at finding the blackbird still bobbing along the garden fence. He decided that he'd call him Billy, he thought that Billy Blackbird was a good name. Alex lost track of how long he sat at his window and watched the small bird flit around the yard. The sky outside grew dark and he took one last look at the merry little bird before he slid from his bed and went to relieve himself in the small adjacent bathroom. Alex looked out at the black night and sighed, he liked the kind man, but still missed what he remembered of his mummy.

Yeah so I'm pretty sick and twisted huh? A beautiful prompt like that and I turn it into a man holding a kid hostage... decide upon your own reasons for his captive state.

Do all things beautifully :) JP xx

7. Write a poem about a first romantic (dare I say: sexual) experience or encounter.

Well I tried to write a poem for this prompt, I really did, but it just didn't end up working so I've broken the rules (let's face it, writing is all about breaking rules anyway right?) and I've written a short story, a short short story about a personal experience that I'm not making up, in that aspect at least I'm staying true to the prompt. Read on if you dare...

It's a cold night. The car is still warm from the ignition as I climb in and lay back against the passenger seat. He doesn't turn on his car, I'm not here to go someplace with him. I'm simply here to be with him. It's quiet at first. Neither of us wanting to speak, for fear of sounding foolish. Eventually conversation starts to flow between us. Small talk really, how was your day, what'd you get up to and the like. I pull my legs up under me and turn to face him. I smile when I look him in the eyes, his eyes are mostly hidden in the dark, but I can still see the gleam of excitement and I know his heart must be racing too. We stay like that for a little while longer, discussing events of the day. Eventually conversation returns to our families and our situation. This stolen moment, in a car atop a hill, overlooking the small town we call home, is the only time we truly have to ourselves.

Nervously, his hand shifts across the console of the dusty ute, and takes mine. I'm thankful for the warmth and my hearts pounds against my chest embarrassingly loud, excited that he wants to hold my hand. I'm grateful for the cover of darkness to hide the pink in my cheeks as I blush as his contact. His hand is huge, much larger than mine, and my palm seems to swim in his. He hold my hand easily, my fingers just reaching through his. They're rough, worker's hands. His pointer finger has an irregularity. His nail is thick and tapered to a point, almost like a short talon. I ask him about it, and when he stalls in his answer I immediately regret my openness, wondering if I should have been more sensitive. He proceeds to tell me anyway, that his hand got stuck in a grinder when he was younger. I trace my fingers over the odd nail and smile. I tell him that I like it, and he sighs, seemingly relieved that I'm not repulsed. I tell him I'd love to have a claw and he chuckles. I blush again. That laugh seems to wash everything away, until all I want is for him to keep laughing.

At some point, we lower our seats so that we're more lying than sitting now. In the cold night, I welcome the warmth of the large, rough hand I hold in mine. Somehow, once we'd lowered our seats, I ended up in his arms. In that moment, when his arm was around my shoulder and I lay my head on his shoulder, I was happy. So unbelievably happy. I was peaceful also, calmed by the warmth that spread throughout my body, from the excitement of having him so close, and from what warmth he offered through his limbs. It seemed to peaceful then, to lie my head upon him, and hear his heart beating, not quickly, but not slowly either. I remember wishing that we could make this moment last forever. Our stolen moment, alone in the cold and in the dark. I felt safe and warm in his presence, and he felt safe and warm in mine. We lay there like that for a long while, neither speaking, just both relishing one another's company. Comfortable to be alone and in silence together. Words could be said another time, a time when we didn't have the sanctity that was offered to us now.

Although we mourned for the ending of this precious moment, the night was late, and we both had work in the morning. Not wanting to leave one another, we delayed ending our meeting with small talk and the like. When we could finally no longer stall the inevitable, he bent his head and kissed me softly on my hair. In that moment I felt incredibly loved. Loved purely and totally, I felt the feelings of his kiss as he pressed his lips to my head. It was a beautiful, short, stolen moment. It was cold, and dark, but together it seemed warm and bright as we looked out at the stars and enjoyed being in each other's company. It's a moment I will never forget, for the rest of my life.

My lovelies, I do apologise...

For my extended absence. I don't know if many of you (look at me! Talking as if anyone actually reads this thing!) are familiar with the idea of NaNoWriMo? No? Well it's short for National Novel Writing Month and I've recently discovered it. Now this is held in November, and by recently I mean... yes I discovered it in December, but everyone's hard work and excellent results inspired me to write my own novel - and that's what I have been doing. However I fully intend to write about those 25 prompts before xmas... which is how many days away? *Counting out the days*. Shit. 7. Well that leaves... 18 prompts to write about in the next seven days... I can manage that... I'm sure I can :|. I missed point 7 and posted number eight first. So I guess I'll have to work on the 'romantic/sexual' encounter - but you can bet your pretty socks it'll just be romantic. *sticks out tongue*

Ok, so once again, my apologies for my absence, send my regards to your loved ones... and prepare yourselves for some MASSIVE blog updates over the next few days :)

Merry Christmas and do all things with beauty :) JP xx

Wednesday, 7 December 2011

He turned the key in the lock, and opened the door. To his horror he saw...

Nothing. After so many years of searching, so many sacrifices made and people lost, he was so sure that it'd be here. He fell to his knees as he scanned the room, the old silver key clattered to the floor beside him. A pit of despair welled in his stomach and threatened to overtake his body, and his knees hit the dust covered stone. He continued to scan the dimly lit room, desperate to find something, anything to help him find what he'd spend so long searching for.

The walls were cold, dark stone. He could smell the musty scent of mildew, and hear a faint dripping in the far corner, and he noticed that patches of the wall were wet, where water had seeped through. He put one fist on the floor and pushed himself to his feel, dusting his hands on his jeans as he made his way to the back wall. He pressed his palms against the cool stone, feeling the faint trickle of the water as it streamed slowly from the ceiling to the floor. He could smell something else now, something sweet. He kept his hands against the wall as he leaned close to the moisture. He recognised the scent. The water was saline. He knew the tunnels had been convoluted, but he never imagined they'd lead beneath the ocean floor.

He moved across the room, to where the wall was slightly drier, he pressed his palms to the wall and began to gently search with his fingertips. His hands reached out, searching for an unexplained irregularity, anything to suggest that there was more to this room than what he first saw. Just as he seemed to have exhausted the area of his search, his nails clipped over an unnaturally smooth ridge, deeper than the natural crevices of the stone. He moved to the patch of wall his fingers had found, and he traced the shape that had been carved into the stone.

The small symbol etched into the wall was a small leaf shape, with a circle through the line that ran from the top of the leaf to the bottom. It was almost a vertical eye, save for the line cutting it in half. He stared at the odd symbol before shifting his gaze upward. At first it seemed as though the ceiling were as unmarked as ever, it wasn't until he turned back towards the entrance that he spotted it. Just above the doorway, a stone slab was marked with the same curious symbol he'd just discovered. he approached the door and reached up to the slab, and to his delight, found that it moved in his grip.

He pulled the slab loose, and felt the hollow where it had been and found a thin triangular rod pushed back against the recess in the wall. He retrieved the rod, and placed the slab on the floor. Intrigued, he continued to look for any other signs of the strange symbol.

When he couldn't find anymore, he returned to the original engraving and pressed his hand on it, and to his surprise, he felt a little give, indicating that this stone was indeed loose as well. However the long slab was more tightly embedded into the surrounding blocks and he grappled with the edges, using his fingernails, for a long while, before managing to wriggle it forwards enough to wrap his hands around the end and pull it free from the wall. At the back of this recess, he found a second triangular rod. He  had to reach deep into the wall, almost the length of his arm, to retrieve the small rod. It was then that he noticed the two triangle shaped holes in the floor. Once clearing them of the dirt and dust that had rimmed the cutouts, he didn't hesitate to insert the first rod in the small hole nearest the door, and then the second rod, in the remaining hole. He sat still on his knees as silence continued to fill the room around him.

It was so faint, he wasn't sure he heard it at first, then the rumbling grew louder as the floor began to vibrate beneath his feet. To his surprise, a long thin crack appeared in the concrete floor, and as it grew, it traced a perfect circle in the floor - just like the symbol.

As the crack met the beginning and completed the circle, it dropped 5 inches and swivelled into a crevice below the surface, to reveal a spiralling staircase, leading into the murky depths below. He stared at the hole in the floor, amazed, before steeling himself for the descent. He had come so far and had no wish to stop now, not when what he yearned for may be so close.

Do all things so that they're beautiful xx JP

Monday, 5 December 2011

There's a guy sitting on a park bench reading a newspaper...

I wrote a poem for this one about 3 times but it kept getting stupider and stupider as I went on. These prompts ended up being hard than I expected :/

"Excuse me good sir, would you mind lending me the sports?" A tall gentlemen enquires of the man sitting at the park bench with his newspaper. The squat man on the bench looks up to inspect the asker before him, taking in his expensive waistcoat, the chain from his pocket indication a gold pocket watch lay within, and the bespectacled eyes that beamed down at him. He seemed a jolly enough fellow, what harm could lending a section of his paper do?
"Certainly," he replied shortly, but not unkindly. He sifted through his paper to find the section his new found companion desired and handed it to him as the tall fellow took a place next to him on the park bench. He inched over a little to allow the large man more room for his long legs and muscled arms in the hopes he might find it more comfortable.

The two men sat in silence, the only sound the rustling of paper as they turned the pages, an occasional jogger ran past breaking the silence, or a bark from a dog from the opposite side of the large park. As the sun shifted higher into the sky the park grew busier with the rush of the day. When he'd finished reading his sports section, the taller man simply folded up the section, placed it beside him and continued to sit in silence and observe the world around him, seemingly taking in every detail of the park and it's visitors.

His presence didn't unnerve the smaller man, as he thought it might, as he found the company of this stranger comforting. He didn't feel the need to fill the air with conversation or to disrupt him from his paper by way of conversation or fidgeting. Indeed he sat quite still, almost statuesque as he continued to observe the park and it's contents.

Finally the dumpy man completed reading his newspaper and offered the rest to his companion.
"Oh no that's ok, I was simply interested in the fishing section, I love to read about the fantastic fish that are caught these days. Fishing sure isn't what it used to be." he ended with a sigh.

And with that, he stood up, thanked his new found acquaintance for his kindness and company and continued on his way. The small man wasn't unperturbed by the suddenness of both his appearance and departure, but instead felt glad that he'd shared the beautiful quiet of the morning in the park with someone else who appreciated it.


I know, a bit stupid right? But what are the little encounters in life worth if we don't value them? I think it's the little things that count towards the big things, sometimes more than we know.

Do everything so that it's beautiful! xx JP

Write about your early memories of faith, religion, or spirituality; yours or someone else's.

So I'm not sure if I am supposed to discuss my history of faith or lack of faith, or just describe what I remember about church as a child... but here goes...

My earliest memory of church was somewhere in Perth. Mum, Dad, Ferne and I were in a huge congregation in a light filled room, it wasn't dark like most churches I've been to. The room was brigth and inviting, and I remember having a red plastic cup full of sultanas to keep me happy. I must have only be 4 at the time, perhaps younger. I dont remember much except for that red cup and the bright room, but I also remember Mum & Dad walking up to the front for communion to consume the 'body and blood of christ' and I remember the priest coming around and saying to each adult "may the body and blood of christ keep you in eternal life" however I misunderstood. I remember asking mum "why does he want you to have a turtle life?" to which Mum stifled a giggle and tried to explain (unsuccessfully) to me later what he meant.

My next memories of church are when I lived in Kendenup. The Kendenup church was much smaller, it was a tiny little chapel of a thing but the people were lovely. Members would drive from Mt Barker for the services just so that there were enough people to keep the church going. Most of the members were quite old, and for the most part, Ferne and I were the only children that attended. Mostly we were given colouring in sheets that illustrated passages of the bible and sometimes we were asked to give out flowers on rare occasions. I remember 'peace be with you' time when we'd all shake hands, and when we'd go up for the communion and Dad would eat and drink and Ferne and I would be blessed by the priest.

Ferne and I stopped going to church when we were old enough to decide if we wanted to go or not. I still went a couple of times, but at 13, still being given colour-ins seemed borderline unbearable. The people were lovely though and I'll never forget them. I still go to church with Dad on Christmas Eve each year, although last year I missed. I will continue to go to church on Christmas Eve each year I think, it's a tradition I've come to love.

In high school I occasionally attended youth group, which was a great way to learn about God, Jesus and the bible. People there were much more enthusiastic and it seemed less boring - I know it seems rude to say that but I'm trying to keep honest. Had I been able to attend this church I think I'd still be attending today. But who knows.

I went to an easter camp that really opened my eyes. To both the great and the not-so-great sides of faith and religion. It's extremely calming to know (or to think) that there is someone greater than yourself that is always listening and knows you better than you know yourself. However there were incidents that showed a somewhat flawed approach to religion - I should probably mention that the faith I am discussing is chirstianity.. both anglican and baptist sort of mashed in together a bit.

I have always grown believing in a God. Yet I've always grown believing he is a loving God, not the God most claim to be vengeful. The thought of people I love being banished to hell forever because they were not believers both upsets and unnerves me. I flat out don't believe in it, and I guess that's the inception of my conflict with the idea of faith.

This is always an interesting topic, feel free to comment and discuss... religion is always intriguing and controversial.

Do all things beautifully, JP xx

Sunday, 4 December 2011

A kid comes out of the bathroom with toilet paper dangling from his or her waistband.

So this one was really hard for me to think of something to write about... but here's what I ended up with :/

Dear Diary,
Today Michael Moore came out of the bathroom with toilet paper hanging out of his waistband. The poor kid gets picked on enough as it is. I think I was the first to notice, anyway I went up to him and quietly whispered in his ear. His face flushed red but he quickly removed it and thanked me with a shy smile. He was such a quiet boy, and nobody really knew him, he always kept to himself and was an easy target for the other kids in my year to pick on. Mostly it was the girls. It broke my heart when I friend of mine invited him to the ball, only to stand him up and go with Geoff Bridges. He was so nice today when he thanked me. I think I'm going to try and talk to him more often. I don't know why he's quiet or why he's picked on, but surely he'd like to have a friend. Maybe I'll try and make more of an effort with him. I don't care if people pick on me for doing it, but I don't think they will. Let's see how it goes eh?


Dear Diary,
I sat next to Michael in chemistry today. It's the only class that we have together apart from gym. He seemed surprised that I sat down next to the usually vacant seat next to him. I got a few weird looks from my mates when they took their seats, but it smoothed over as soon as class started. He's actually really smart. We were studying new chains and such and he picks things up so quickly. We didn't talk much, I didn't think he would, but he smiled and helped me when I asked him a question that I didn't understand. It's a start right?


Dear Diary,
Today was a bad day. I should have known I couldn't keep being nice to Michael and not have people turn their attention from him to me. Idiots. It was really hard but I stood my ground. I'm awful with comebacks so I just ignored everything they said to me. I can't believe how quickly some of the girls that were my friends turned on me. A couple gave me a quick 'sorry' glance but for the most part they tried to avoid eye contact. My best friend Amelia was away today, perhaps she'll make a change tomorrow.


Dear Diary,
Amelia was here today. She can't understand what I'm doing, I was hoping she'd come sit with me but no cigar. I hope it will start getting better soon.


Dear Diary,
My friends stopped sitting with me in my other classes today.


Dear Diary,
Michael told me something interesting today. He thanked me for standing up for him, but also explained a little of his home life to me. I was surprised because he seemed to really open up for a bit, even though he seemed to regret letting so much out at the end, but I think it was good for him. He lives at home with his mum. She doesn't get out of bed most days and drinks vodka like water. He seemed resilient, as if he'd hardened himself to the facts and it didn't seem to upset him as much as it might have once. I couldn't believe how strong this boy is. He has a pretty hard home life, practically looking after himself, well literally looking after himself, and he still has to deal with all this shit at school. It made me more confident to keep up this thing I have going on. I'm not really sure why I'm doing it but I feel more sure that it's the right thing to do now.


Dear Diary,
Amelia came and sat with Michael and I today. He didn't talk much, I think he was a bit apprehensive as she was often sat with the group that taunted us. But it was good, it wasn't awkward, we just did our chemistry questions in silence for the most part, and when I asked a question and Michael answered, Amelia said "Thank god we've got someone who knows what this is all about," which made the corners of his mouth tweak upwards a little. Baby steps.


Dear Diary,
The girls at school are trying to revoke my place on the netball team. I know that they'll never be successful because I'm quite good and they won't be able to find a legitimate reason to get rid of me. But netball is going to be hell, and it upsets me that they would go to such lengths merely because I'm friends with Michael now. I haven't told anyone about his home life, not Amelia or even my parents. I feel as though it would be a huge betrayal of his trust. And I don't want to lose that.


Dear Diary,
Michael and I hung out after school today, we went to the park and I shouted us ice-creams because it was a freaking SCORCHER today. We had a good time and Michael ended up talking more than me! It's great, he's really funny and so so smart! He just catches onto things first and sees so much, I guess it's because he's so quiet in school he has more time to observe because he's not talking and screaming like most people in our year. He really is a great guy and I don't understand why people won't get to know him. He is very shy of conflict though, so perhaps this is why he just takes it all. He's so tolerant and he must be the strongest person I know. Even when we talk about the people giving us shit, he makes excuses for them, saying that they're just unhappy in their lives and it's easier for them to take it out on us. I really admire him for his courage and understanding, he's so grown up! It was a great day :)


Dear Diary,
Today Michael and I were walking down the halls at lunch and Olivia, a particularly spiteful girl I used to be friends with shouted "Ooohh Michael & Jamie sitting in a tree.." well you know the rest. So - and I still can't explain what made me do this - I grabbed Michael's hand as we were walking, and walked right past her with my head up, hand in hand with him. I'm so glad he didn't pull away. He looked over at me and smiled slightly, before turning his head back to the ground. We held hands until we got to our table to eat. Safe to say Olivia was stunned and she shut up pretty quick. Michael is a beautiful person, and before I couldn't see it, but he's actually pretty attractive! I might be bias but I think he's kinda hot :P...oh well, only time will tell diary.

The asteroid was hurtling straight for...

Me. I ducked.
"Jesus Randy, do you have to destroy everything?" I called after him, as bloody hopeless as that boy was, I couldn't help but smile though as he giggled running through the house. His space diarama had won him an award in class and he was ever so proud. Although since the judging was over he had taken great pleasure in hurling the pieces of his paper mache` box at my head. The latest being an asteroid.

I found him in his room giggling from under the covers.
"Hmmm... where could Randy be?" I said aloud to myself. "If he wasn't so damn good at hiding I'd teach him a thing or two for throwing an asteroid at my head - I could be brain damaged!" I moved toward the bed.
"Randy? Randy are you in here?" He tried to stifle his giggles. I crept closer to the bed before throwing myself on him and tickling anywhere I could reach. His shrieks of laughter made me smile as I stopped tickling him and his head popped out above the blankets. He was grinning from ear to ear.
"Quite an impressive asteroid," I told him, "Just about knocked my head off!" I smiled, he giggled and wrapped his arms around my neck. Despite what people may say, and all whispers and pointing fingers, this boy was beautiful. As beautiful as any I'd met and I was grateful to have him in my life.


--->Yeah so I'm not so impressed with this one. A bit meh, but I didn't want to do the whole 'An asteroid was hurtling straight for earth!' So I mixed it up a little. Do all things so they're beautiful! Love JP xx

Thursday, 1 December 2011

Cyanide & Happiness

Another classic comic from those guys caught my fancy today... and I just LOVE their sick sense of humor. So I've decided to post a few comics today to brighten the Friday for those of you with the same humor as me :) If you'd like to see the whole lot, head on over to Cyanide & Happiness.

Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic



Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic


Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic


Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic


Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic



And with that, have a beautiful day! :) xx

25 Days of Xmas. And prompts

So I've decided to publish the list of prompts that I will be following for the next 25 days. That way you can pick what day you might like to read my ramblings (do forgive my god-awful writing, however I am publishing it all un-edited) so there's that to consider.

So here it is. The List!

  1. You're digging in your garden and find a fist-sized nugget of gold.
  2. Write about something ugly - war, fear, hate, cruelty - but find the beauty (silver lining) in it.
  3. The asteroid was hurtling straight for...
  4. A kid comes out of the bathroom with toilet paper dangling from his or her waistband.
  5. Write about your early memories of faith, religion, or spirituality; yours or someone else's.
  6. There's a guy sitting on a park bench reading a newspaper...
  7. Write a poem about a first romantic (dare I say: sexual) experiene or encounter. (Oh Jeez!)
  8. He turned the key in the lock and opened the door. To his horror he saw...
  9. Silvery flakes drifted down, glittering in the bright light of the harvest moon. The blackbird...
  10. The detective saw his opportunity. He grabbed the waitress's arm and said....
  11. There are three children sitting on a log near a stream. One of them looks up at the sky and says...
  12. There is a magic talisman that allows its keeper to read minds. It's falls into the hands of a young politian...
  13. And you thought dragons didn't exist...
  14. Write about nature. Include the following words, hard drive, stapler, phone, car, billboard.
  15. The doctor put his hand on her arm and said gently, "You or the baby will survive. Not both. I'm sorry."
  16. The nation is controlled by...
  17. You walk into your house and it's completely different - furniture, decor, all changed. And nobody's home...
  18. Write about one (or both) of your parents. Start with 'I was born...'
  19. The most beautiful smile I ever saw...
  20. I believe that animals exist to...
  21. A twinkling eye can mean many things. The one that is twinkling at me right now...
  22. Good versus evil. Does it truly exist? What are the gray areas? Do good people do bad things?
  23. My body...
  24. Have you ever been just about to drift off to sleep only to be roused because you spontaneously remembered an embarrassing moment from your past?
  25. Get a package of one of your favourite canned or boxed foods and look at the ingredients. Use every ingredient in your writing session.


PHEW! There are a few toughies in there...and I'm not going to go back on my word or my challenge but there are some that I can see inspiring very personal pieces of writing that I will share with you all. It's just a matter of time I guess. Wish me luck!

Do everything so it's beautiful like you :) JP xx

Find and write about something ugly - war, fear, hate, cruelty - but find the beauty (silver lining) in it.

This one was always going to be a hard one. I think the hardest thing is that the only silver lining I could find in each of those examples is the reconciliation, the end to the ugliness of each. So today I've decided to go with something that I'm very familiar with - jealousy. And that way I can talk about it more knowledgeably and discuss a silver lining that isn't just the end to the ugly, but a silver lining within the ugly. So here's to jealousy :|

Jealousy.  It’s an ugly demon that too many people know. Not to be confused with envy. Envy is wanting what isn’t yours, whereas jealousy is wanting what should be yours. To clarify;

Envy: a feeling of discontent or covetousness with regard to another's advantages, success, possessions, etc.
Jealousy: jealous resentment against a rival, a person enjoying success or advantage, etc., or against another's success or advantage itself.
(courtesy of dictionary.reference.com)

So jealousy and envy are pretty similar except for the one aspect of jealousy, where your feelings are stirred over other people having what you think you should have. You might not be deserving of it. But then again, who’s to say that you’re not? It comes down to you believing that you should have what others do. But I digress.

Jealousy feeds on doubts, fears and negative emotions. It’s not always rational, in fact it is hardly ever rational, and people that feel jealous are often ashamed or frustrated that they feel the way they do. It churns inside you with a seething that only anger can relate to. It’s a burning sensation. When I feel jealous I can physically feel a burning inside my chest. It’s a physical swirl of the emotion torrents inside my head.

Being somewhat irrational in nature, it can lead us humans to act irrationally and usually make a terrible situation out of nothing. Countless homes have been ripped apart by jealous wives or husbands that suspect their partner of being unfaithful. It can lead to disruptive and obsessive behaviour when it comes to finding out what your partner’s been doing in your absence. It can lead to fights between lovers over what they each deserve, and the jealous lover believing they don’t have what they are entitled to.

For me, jealousy strikes when I least expect it. I get the feeling without intent or notice and feel jealous about things that I would normally pass at. The strongest trait of jealousy is that it can’t be turned off. Not immediately at least. It is an undeniable tenacious enemy within, that each person seeks (or should seek) to rid themselves of.

The silver lining? It gives us an opportunity to grow. Just recently in my life, I’ve been trying to take things that make me jealous and learn from the experience. In evaluating why I’m jealous, picking apart the irrationality of it all and learning things about myself I don’t like, I can start to get rid of the parts of me that I don’t like. It’s an opportunity for self-evaluation. If you find yourself irrationally jealous of somebody, stop and think hey – why am I jealous? What the hell has got me feeling this way? And you can learn more about yourself, and discover perhaps underlying issues, or past wrongs that you’ve yet to forgive.

Jealousy is indeed a terribly ugly emotion that can destroy you from the inside out. But if we take a moment to pause and look at ourselves and grasp the irrationality of the situation, it’s a fantastic opportunity to learn more about ourselves.. an opportunity that we’re not granted with too often. So a fantastic silver lining I say!