What do I expect when I write on this website? Why do I feel obligated to post dashed-off little blurbs in this kind of a public forum? What does the act of exposure add to the experience?
Do I expect my "readers" to be scouring the Typetrigger page(more) every day, searching desperately for a new Carthage original? Do I envision throngs of fans fighting to be the first to "like" my new piece?
I tell myself I would keep writing even if no one was ever going to read a damn word of it. Is that true? Does a conscious awareness of one's audience improve writing or pollute it? Say that no one else posts responses here for several days. How long would I keep at it before I just gave up?
Do I give other trigger writers enough of my time? Do I read enough of their work to warrant anyone reading my own? Do I give back as much to the community as I hope to receive?
I've been posting here for about a year now. What have I learned? Am I growing? How can I tell? What comes next?Is there a bright literary future in the realm of flash fiction? Does flash matter?
When I get up tomorrow morning, will I remember what I wrote today? Never mind everyone else. Does my writing even matter to me? How can I expect anyone else to care if I can't convince myself that I do?(less)
my very skin is made of expectations;
they venture to prevent my boundlessness
and instead contradict it all,
pushing me inwards,
expecting me to shoot up and out,
to rocket beyond the stars, to
(more) change the world.
that's not how it works, if you'd just
leave me alone i could stretch out and
skim the skies with my pinky and take up more space,
be bigger than nothing, and maybe even
make you happy -
from a distance.(less)
They always expect a lot from me. They expect good grades, a good career, a girlfriend that they consider respectable... The problem is that the only thing that they should expect is my happiness and, most of the times, it seems they couldn't care less.
I love a girl,(more) an artist. She loves me back, so that's good, right? According to my parents, she's poor and doesn't have a future. Therefore, she's not someone I should hang out with. On the other hand, they want me to marry my dad's boss's daughter. She's not ugly, but she's shallow and egocentric. Elly, the girl I like, is unique, intelligent and talented.
Also, they want me to be a lawyer. I just hope they don't discover that I'm secretly planing to run away with Elly and travel the world. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents, but they're putting me under a lot of pressure and I just can't take it anymore. They don't listen.
It's my life, right? So why should I do what they tell me? (less)
at first i am empty,
then slowly coins deposit,
wishes are made
until i am filled and water overflows,
i am weighed down
with unfulfilled desire.
(more) but the coins keep piling up,
there's no way to stop them,
no sign that says
"this is not a wishing well,"
and i cannot make them come true,
i am just merely a well
to provide water,
not to fill your dreams.
I expect to finish school
I expect to get a job
I expect to have sex
I expect to drink beer and wine
I expect to travel
I expect to find a wife
(more) I expect to have children
I expect to retire
I expect to find a passion
I expect to be comfortable
I expect to die(less)
My eyes opened wide and my nostrils flared up to the smell of moms home cooking on Christmas morning. I could hardly sleep last night just hoping with every bit left in me to get a brand new Nintendo 64. I put on my Flash jammies and like lightning,(more) I ran downstairs as fast as my little legs could and jumped over the last step.
I yelled at my mom finishing up her famous rice pudding and my dad watching his stupid Pawn Shop show "MERRY CHRISTMAS!" And with an eager grin, he turned to me and said "Are you ready to open your presents?" My heart nearly sank to the floor, I couldn't say "yes" fast enough. So I bolted towards the tree filled with snowman and Santa Clause ornaments and sat down waiting anxiously to tear apart the wrapping paper.
My mom quickly dropped her ladle and yelled "Honey, get the camcorder!" But my dad had it all set up. They both walked over and sat on the brown sofa next to me and turned the ancient camcorder on.
"Okay, Julian now pick one present." But I already had my eye on the biggest one. Taunting me and whispering "Open me, Julian. Open me!"
I wiped the drool from my mouth and gnawed at the wrapping paper, tearing it to pieces. And when I saw what was inside, tears rained down my face. I didn't know what to say. They got me a fucking Sega Genesis. Of all the things, they chose today to ruin my childhood life.(less)
Expectations? I have zero. For the people in this world of ours, I have zero. Ours! That's what I'm talking about, I stand to correct myself and in the process I have provided the perfect example of our arrogance. This is not our world. It belongs to the ear(more)th, who gives everything on it that lives a means to live. Plant, animal, fish, human, insect; collectively we our it's children. It has become known as Mother Earth for the reason that it is our provider. We are a young species with plenty to learn and like a lot of children, we have grown to disrespect our mother and don't listen to her. We wreck our own house.
Let's face it, at the fundemental level, people are crazy. We have killed more of our own species than history cares to remember, and in the name of the most absurd things; race, religion, money, desire, jealousy; the list is almost endless. We still do these things. We will always do it! Until the day we cease to exist. Don't believe the movies folks, there is no happy ending for our species. We are the perfect tragedy, "an event causing great suffering, destruction, and distress, such as a serious accident, crime, or natural catastrophe". Catastrophe. I like that, and maybe that's what the earth intended when it sprung us up. Maybe it needed something to fuck with any potential space neighbours and it failed to see that we would spend our time killing each other and everything else instead of using the gifts it gave us to push out into the stars as intended. Foresight is clearly not one of Mother Earth's greatest strengths.
On we go, with many expectations, all hopeless, waiting for the next best lifeform. And we are building them. (less)
i never could have expected that because i joined a silly website to draw pictures on that i'd start making friends. i never could have expected that they would encourage my artistic journeys, even joining me on some.
i never could(more) have expected that i would end up on an even larger art community, meeting a variety of people i could have never met any other way. i never thought i could have best friends across the country, across the world.
i never could have expected the impact it would have on me. thank you. :)(less)