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June 5th, 2004
My mother always told me you could tell a lot about a girl from her eyes. I was always assured that a good stare would give enough information to me to tell if I liked a girl or no. My mother was a smart woman. However, her advice became all too real when I visited planet no. 10065. The people on the planet are unlike any I have come across to date, and you can tell so much more from their eyes than from human eyes.
The people on planet 10065 call themselves Frygans (roughly translated of course). Their eyes really are a window into their heads. As are their ears and mouths, though the mouth is much more closed off than the others. As the Frygans grow and learn their brains change physically. They glow depending on what they contain.
Therefore: a girl with dull green eyes has little worldly knowledge and some memories but not too many. A girl with bright glowing pink or scarlet eyes and ears is extremely clever in general knowledge and probably has high academic standing. A girl with extremely bright blue eyes has many fond memories andhas probably travelled a lot. Either that or had an exciting or troubled childhood that has stuck with her. When a girl has eyes like this it is quite difficult to tell her academic level.
There are of course inbetweens, subtle differences and many more complexities to this but I felt the need to offer a quick guide in case any of you were planning a trip to Planet 10065. The northern ice floes are beautiful this time of year. And you can watch the Ice Dwellers hunting if you get a boat from Gosland Harbour. Tell them i sent you and you might get free wine.
April 27th, 2004
Simon the bear was old. He didn't mind too much though, it just meant he got less attention, which, frankly he liked. After three generatioins of daughters playing with him he was sick of attention. Now that young Emma had grown he was free to relax. She wasn't old enough to have children yet so he knew he had a little while to sit on the window sill and watch the world go by. This pleased him.
So the day came when Emma left home to go to boarding school (Simon knew the pain of boarding school, having been at 'Rushmore's School for Girls' in the 1970's. They throw
toys there) for her final year. Emma's mother, Sally (who did the throwing at Rushmore's) put Simon on the windowsill before they got in the car and left. The old stuffed bear sighed with relief as the car pulled away.
Six months later Simon was really bored. Not a single soul had entered the bedroom in six months and the sight of cars going past the house got dull after a few days. Only then did he realise the pleasure of being throw around at boarding school.
'Maybe someday she'll have a daughter' he thought to himself hopefully.
April 11th, 2004
A Flash Of Light
Suddenly there was a loud bang in the sky. The stars seemed to disappear as a flash of light illuminated the jungle. A large bird woke and flapped its wings as if it didn't really know what to do. The llama in the village was tied up but jumped onto it's hind legs. A flock of small birds, parrots perhaps, darted to the canopy to escape the unknown light. The moths of the rainforest saw the light and flew as fast as they could toward it. The Shamen of the local tribe danced when he saw the light and chanted to his sun god. And the monkeys saw the light and decided they didnt care so continued eating fleas of eat other.
March 31st, 2004
Nelly the Elephant
I woke with a shot. 'How long had I been out? Where am I? What am I wearing? Wwhat is this place?'
Everything was blurred at first, my eyes hurt like they hadn't opened in weeks. My body was sore, my arms. I couldn't move my arms. 'What's going on?'
Once I came to a bit more, I was able to see my surroundings and figure out what I was doing. 'Why can't I remember anything?'
I was in a white room. It had a window but it was small, far too small for an elephant like me to exit through anyway. The door was way over to the left. I was on a table, a bed. I was strapped down.
A few things came back to me. I began to remember my childhood, the fun we used to have. 'I think I'm on drugs.'
I felt happy, dreaming I was in the circus with my father, how he loved me and the circus. 'It killed him when I left'.
Bit by bit, my jagged past came back to me. Over the course of what seemed to be many hours, I started to remember things I had seen and done. Horrific things, scary things, terrible things. 'Why did I leave?'
I was haunted by my recent past. I had done things many people would shy from. 'What had I done that was so bad that made me forget?'
It made me question where I was. I had heard no sign of life, no people, no animals in this white place. 'Am I dead?'
'AM I DEAD?' I shouted loudly. I heard a click. The door!
A human man entered. He was also in white, camoflaged against the walls.
'Not yet, Nellie, but soon' he spoke quietly as he patted my trunk.
I have wasted my life.
March 10th, 2004
Have I ever told you Martell's theory on Dog Energy?
See, I believe that all dogs have the exact same amount of energy regardless of size. So a normal sized dog, say a German Shepherd or a Labrador Retriever, has the perfect amount of energy to operate the dog. They can chase squirrels, run up hills, go for walks... all the typical dog stuff.
But when you take a bigger dog, like a St. Bernard, they use up all that energy just crossing a room. The standard amount of dog energy which is perfect for a Labrador, isn't enough to run a St. Bernard, so they spend a lot of their time resting. Don't ask me to explain the drool, but I got a theory on that, too.
Now take that standard dog energy and put it in a Terrier or a Chihuahua and you've got yourself a problem. You could run a half dozen Chihuahuas on the same amount of energy it takes to run your standard Labrador. So these little guys are always hyper. They've got to burn that excess power! They jump up and down, run around.... Too much energy for a dog this size!
March 5th, 2004
Me for once
I like my new apartment. I think that living alone will be good for me. Before I found company a distraction, something that hindered me and my life. The things I wanted to do were held back by those people. They are perfectly nice people, andI respect that and I respect them. I just now think this is a good opporunity for me to be alone, to be free and to sit in silence. Or not. This is my apartment. My place. My new life. This room is mine. That room is mine.
This room is the most complete so far. It has a real 'me' feel about it. None of the others do yet, since I only moved in on Monday. I've been too busy with work to make the whole place mine. This room. I set it up first since this is where most of my things are, where most of my life goes on and where most of my work gets done. It isn't the largest room in the house but it isnt the smallest.
It has pale walls and a blue carpet. It has a window which takes up a large section of the wall. It has a small balcony outside the window, enough for perhaps a person or two to stand and look at the view.
The view is just the city. In the far distance you can see the tallest buildings in the city center, but only just. Maybe when it warms up and it is less cloudy I will be able to see further. Not this week so far though. There is a small garden below the building. I can look down and see the elderly walking and sitting, and the single mothers walking their cradles in the winter sun, talking to the mass of blankets within. I can see the little wildlife there is here, the few birds and squirrels. At least, I presume I will see squirrels. I haven't seen any yet. For obvious reasons. I am hoping such a diverse view (I also have a road, and off to the left, just about in view is a street with shops on it) will give me some ideas for my work. I could use a new muse.
With my new found solidarity, my view and my silence I may be able to concentrate more on the things I enjoy. Peace be with you, and my writing will be back on track soon.
February 18th, 2004
The motorway was bored. He'd sat for thirty years and was bored of it. Every day at 6am he'd be woken by the large volume of traffic racing down his spine, human people eargerly trying to beat each other at getting somewhere, the first one wins a prize. So all these human people in their metal boxes leave early to win their prize. Anyhow. After the morning race things would calm down for him. His steady crowd of heavy vehicles continued throughout the light, these are the people who obviously have nothing better to do than to travel all the time. They are the ones who will win a prize if they never stop. They are the ones whose steady vibrations keep M asleep at night, and the ones who utilise him all the time. After the middle bit of the light, the bit that's always warmer than the rest, the human people in the metal boxes go back to wherever they came from. The go away from the dark, M thought.
All he wanted was a holiday. Maybe a new lane on each side, or a cafeteria up by his shoulders to lower the traffic there slightly. He could feel the stress it put him under. Maybe a new junction or an extension would at least give him a bit of a break. He hoped. He waited.
February 4th, 2004
The Vladivar moved around like a whirlpool. The plastic red implement twisted in the glass, moving the ice around at speed. The ice cooled in the liquid, reducing the temperature slowly.
The man, a tall, greying man with a neat beard sipped his drink. He held it in the left hand, a small pistol already held in the right. He sipped his drink again and stared at the other man.
The other man was Rufus, a short balding man. He was tied to a wooden chair, and bleeding from his lip. He sat and stared back at the man in the expensive suit. He was scared.
As the man with the gun sipped his vodka for the third time shots rang out. Almost like giant thunderclaps they echoed through the empty room. Five, six, seven, bang, bang, bang.
Then the vodka spilled on the floor, the ice clattering the wooden floorboards, the glass shattering as it landed. Soon after, a lifeless body lay alongside the melting ice.
January 30th, 2004
'Put him in the jar!' said Jenny.
'No! I want him to live in my drawer!' snapped Malcolm back.
'FINE!' shouted Malcolm.
The he got up angrily and threw the stag beetle out of the window.
January 29th, 2004
A Lesson Learned
After a whole day of being laughed at, David was cranky.
'I honestly don't know how clowns do it', he said to his smiling dog Snappy, who was sat at his feet.
'Being laughed at all day is demoralising.'
David took his shirt off and threw it on the sofa.
'And that's the last time I wear a pink shirt to work.'
Snappy just sat, smiling.