For part of its length, the international dateline follows the meridian of 180ยบ longitude. If you sailed along this fixed arbitrary boundary, zig-zagging back and forth east and west across the imaginary line, would time speed up and slow down? Would you age faster or slower? I've requested that time move more slowly but it will not oblige. It is infinite unto itself, but finite, with only a small portion allocated to each of us.
Welcome. Anonymous Author holds a mirror to the face of humanity, asking what it really means to be human,
and in doing so blurs the line between what is good and bad writing.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Reveal.
Do you allow your behaviour to reveal to others what you truly are; or do your thoughts reveal only to yourself what you truly are?
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Weep.
The urge he has to weep – or at the very least faint – is constant and persists in making him dizzy if left unrestrained.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Party.
He enjoys parties but not the idea of having to go to them. His take on life alternates between the enlightened and the curmudgeonly. He is someone people want at a party, but not to talk with.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Condition.
You have the human condition worse than most, she observed warily. Yes, I agreed, and yet I feel all too fragile to undertake the vocation of life. My best work is behind me due to an abundance of apathy; thinking is all I have. A grisly and unnatural silence suffocated the connection we thought existed between us.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Movie.
This is a movie based on the book by someone we once knew. It is a fiction but no details of their lives have been altered. The script is full of taut sentences and devoid of flabby writing.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Effort.
She was emotionally spent mostly by the effort of self-improvement and simply snoozed the afternoon away. Breezes sighed through the rooms, the walls exhaled and relaxed, the house dreamed with her.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Fruits.
Floating in the harbour, I turned and looked back to land beyond the beach, the trees and the shelter of the hills. A thunderstorm rumbled its way towards the open sea. This was one of those moments when a life harvests the fruits that nature has stored.
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