I've dabbled in writing, often little bits here or there, about this and that. If you've been following along, you've probably seen at least one or two bits(like this post). Some time ago, I wrote a few... monologues I guess. I guess they were kind of like the character narrating a moment in time. Here's one of them, I think it was a combination of the beauty of letting go, and deciding what's important to yourself.
I couldn't remember what happened after that moment, the screen faded to black. A touching score moved all to tears, the feel-good moment of the week. My confusion soon sorted into a new understanding. I decided to improvise. "Goodbye." The romantic comedy turned tragedy. I gave up everything. Damn, nothing never felt so much like something.
This next one was about... I think the phrase would be "modern excessivism" or something.
She looked at me, those eyes that shimmered like the lights on her empty martini glass. Every step a pick up line, confident yet desperate. Each sway of her hips cried for my validation, or any man who would fall into her wake. She stood before me, pouring forth her charm, cascading over me like her designer perfume. When did too much become just enough? This is growing up.
I'll leave it at those, and bid you adieu,
Trot On Everypony, Alturiigo
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