up:: π Writing Journal
type:: #log/writing
topics:: π Writing
tags:: #on/writing
Everything he said that day was bullshit
Task 1: Stream of Consciousness
Write for 10mins without stopping prompted by these words: contest, goad, entreat, miniature, slimy, brooch, wind, club
Every year the guy that lives in the apartment above me holds a hotdog eating contest in our backyard. This dude never leaves the house, but somehow holds the biggest neighborhood event of the year. He must spend all year, alone in that slimy miniature apartment planning this god awful soiree. On the same day, at the same time, every single year I get an obnoxious musical knock on my door. "Mr. Brian, I entreat you to join us this for the big day, we'll be handing out free Hotdog brooches!" Maybe if I appease this guys attempt to goad me into this asinine event he'll let me off the hook next year. Or maybe I should move.
The air wreaked of manufactured meat chunks and shitty perfume wafting in the wind. The DJ played what I'd call "polka-club". The neighborhood couldn't get enough of this. Even folks from out of town would climb onto the nearest roof with their binoculars and peer into our tiny backyard for a glimpse of America.
It wasn't half a second that I poked my head out of the door and Gunther shouted, "Brian, so glad you could make it! Here, I printed a custom bib for you this year". He handed me a bejeweled bib with my name on it.
Just saw this (2024-07-17):
Task 2: Prompt
Prompt: And every thing he said that day was bullshit. Itβs the only thing that kept him safe, kept him alive.
Harvey was diagnosed with Lyme disease in his late 20s. He was a decorated athlete in his early years but these days he couldn't do much. Doctors prescribed him SSRIs and "meditation". He loved the movies and always wanted to be a stunt man. They don't make much money but he didn't care as long as he could hang around on set with the visionaries and blow shit up.
These days Harvey delivers food for Door Dash. It was late, he couldn't sleep, so he clocked in to pass the time. Greasy fast food and pizza was the only option at this time of the night. The first delivery was an order of chicken nuggets and a medium Sprite for a pretty cat lady that wreaked of weed. The second order went to a group of sex-pest-looking drunk frat boys. He cracked a smile at their identical fluffy mushroom haircuts as he handed over their food.
Thing 1 squealed, "Bro I'm about to make 10 times what you make in a week filming a Five Guys Mukbang on Tik-Tok. I just hit 5k followers, fuck outta here groomer."
Harvey damn near snorted. None of those words are in the bible.
He walked back to his car and sat there playing through the movie happening in his mind. The one where he takes one of those zoomers hostage to teach them all a lesson about fucking around and winds up in a ransom scenario. The kids dad turns out to be the CEO of some greedy conglomerate that runs the city. He was never around for his kids, and it shows.
Harvey's phone dings. Another delivery. But this one had a note attached to it. "Don't waste my time and I won't waste yours." And a phone number to call. He didn't recognize the area code.
Alright, that's enough for now. The prompt made me a think about a guy that's sort of lost in life, lying to himself about his abilities and happiness. He then gets a opportunity to potentially go do something outside of his comfort zone. Is he going to continue lying to himself, playing it safe, or could this be his big break?
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