It's a Bargain at Any Price by cyanita, literature
Literature
It's a Bargain at Any Price
If you were to ask him, he'd probably tell you that getting a certified Soulmate™ wasn't all it's crack up to be. They don't tell you everything, and the contracts are full of fine print and details. For example, reincarnation tends to make things dodgy. You don't get to choose how you come back. Usually, it went according to the book- you meet your beloved, and spend a lifetime in "happily ever after". But sometimes, the program glitched, and things went bad. Unfortunately, genetic memory replication meant you remembered all your past lives. Most were good, but some were heartbreaking. Like being alone for 95 years, then finding her,
Desolate mental landscape;
Harsh winds scour this blasted ground,
With no relief from the bleak sky above.
Distant buzzing of cicadas, the only sound
In this echoing loneliness.
Desert of the mind;
Stretching to the horizon.
Nothing grows here.
Summer days dwindle and fade,
Even though the memories linger.
Plans are made for one last blast,
Time taps an impatient finger.
Early mornings bring a chill, that
Mid-day holds as just a thought.
Bustling children back to school,
Every morning a battle fought.
Remember the days of September.
It's a Bargain at Any Price by cyanita, literature
Literature
It's a Bargain at Any Price
If you were to ask him, he'd probably tell you that getting a certified Soulmate™ wasn't all it's crack up to be. They don't tell you everything, and the contracts are full of fine print and details. For example, reincarnation tends to make things dodgy. You don't get to choose how you come back. Usually, it went according to the book- you meet your beloved, and spend a lifetime in "happily ever after". But sometimes, the program glitched, and things went bad. Unfortunately, genetic memory replication meant you remembered all your past lives. Most were good, but some were heartbreaking. Like being alone for 95 years, then finding her,
Desolate mental landscape;
Harsh winds scour this blasted ground,
With no relief from the bleak sky above.
Distant buzzing of cicadas, the only sound
In this echoing loneliness.
Desert of the mind;
Stretching to the horizon.
Nothing grows here.
Summer days dwindle and fade,
Even though the memories linger.
Plans are made for one last blast,
Time taps an impatient finger.
Early mornings bring a chill, that
Mid-day holds as just a thought.
Bustling children back to school,
Every morning a battle fought.
Remember the days of September.
Whether it hangs in the Louvre or on your mom's fridge, art is art. As an expression of human imagination and emotion at its best, art is to be cherished and protected, and this goes for the artists as well. My lifelong gratitude to all artists, past and present, for making this world a more beautiful place
Favourite Movies
Boondock Saints, Wilder Napalm, Robert Rodriguez 's Mexican trilogy
Favourite TV Shows
Supernatural, Doctor Who, Torchwood, Firefly, you know, the classics
Favourite Books
American Gods, Good Omens, the Mathew Swift stories