Comments Posted By Land of Dave

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“Yes, it’s all very stressful,” he said, “It’s due soon and I have very little time, you see. Plus, I’m tired and have many other plans. I have a host of problems. I’m also having many guests over this evening and my caterer canceled, so I have a hosting problem as well!”

» Posted By Land of Dave On 03.22.2019 @ 6:36 pm


I feel that this is a very serious matter, and, quite frankly, I am both shocked and appalled at the jovial response you’ve made, as if hoping to make a mockery out of the choices and beliefs of others.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 09.10.2015 @ 6:18 am


With every step, my body grew heavier. The weight seemed to spread itself around my body. Like iron doors unhinged, my eyelids became harder to keep in their rightful place. They want to fall down. My whole body wants to just, fall. Down.

I. Must. Get. Farther,

» Posted By Land of Dave On 08.26.2015 @ 3:49 am


With each step, the burning in my shins increased in intensity, ever so slightly. I was breathing out, exhaling hot breath like a mega-factory exhales fumes. By the time I’d made it, there was a fire within my legs that did not want to be extinguished. Sitting down among colleagues, I began to, ever-so-subtly, massage my shins, hoping to quell the flames. It felt so good, but, looked so… wrong.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 08.24.2015 @ 6:11 am


A small clatter escapes the space between old, wooden desk and cheap, plastic pen. Frustratedly, his restless fingers brush through his curly hair. After, perhaps, a few too many motionless seconds he tears up the pages in front of him. Nothing proceeds as though it was scripted.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 08.16.2015 @ 1:05 am


Her paw lightly touched the faded yellow carpet, triggering a chorus of “aww” from her new owners. Gingerly, eyes freshly opened, she made her first few steps outside of the box of blankets that had, thus far, been her home.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 03.11.2015 @ 8:08 pm


“What a champion…” James commented sarcastically.
“Huh?” came Tim’s distracted reply.
“You see this tosser in the ’86 Laser, tribal decals all down the sides?”
“Oh, yeah. People still do that?”
“Yeah, I guess. You think it looks any good?” James asked.
“Nah.” said Tim, resuming his work, “You?”
James thought for a second, “Nah, not at all.”

» Posted By Land of Dave On 12.06.2014 @ 7:54 pm


I stare, perplexed and transfixed, at a dimly lit screen. Watching nothing happen, nothing at all, I wait. Maybe something will change, be it in me or on my screen. If it does, I’d hate to miss it.

Meanwhile, dreams uncaught float by, carried by the tides of time.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 12.09.2013 @ 6:26 am


Genetics is a scientific word that means, physically, you’re 50% your mother and 50% your father.

But, never forget, you’ll always be 100% you.
What THAT means is up to you, not your genes.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 10.25.2013 @ 4:21 am


You scratch your sudden itch. Not sure from whence it came.
But, as you try with all your might, the itch, it stays the same.
A horror slowly grows within you. “Whatever could this be?”
“Pleas, Oh God, whatever this is, let it not be fleas!”

» Posted By Land of Dave On 10.22.2013 @ 9:10 pm


“Baffled!?” She yells, “How can YOU be baffled?”

He held up the delicate, ivory figurine and between puffs of smoke from his pipe he simply replied, “Not easily. All these readings say it’s perfectly genuine. I just don’t understand how it could possibly come from where you said it came from. So, if you’re telling me the truth, I’m baffled.”

He took of his thinly framed glasses and placed them on the table, leaned back and blew a smoke ring of surrender around his outstretched hand and the item which it held.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 10.20.2013 @ 11:03 pm


The gate that was her composure budged just a little. Just enough to let one small thought out from its confines, through her mind and out her mouth.

“Why not?” slipped quietly through her lips as he walked away. She fell to her knees.

Not to be left behind, the gate was forced wider open as feelings and thoughts, bound by ‘composure’ for so long, tried to set themselves free. A regret broke free, and escaped in a tear. A memory. A fear. Suddenly, a stampede of suppressed sadness burst from behind the wall that was her usual forced smile and streamed down her cheeks.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 10.15.2013 @ 8:12 pm


I tried to run. Fumbling to force one tangled leg in front of the other, I must admit, I made little headway. They caught me easily and pulled me backward, most likely to donate extra bruises to the bounteous collection they’d helped me put together. In a panic I leapt forward and away, but, still partially in their grip I fell forward, through the yellow tape, into the wet concrete, leaving an imprint of my face in its soft surface. To this day, my face remains stamped in the sidewalk in all its glory.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 10.15.2013 @ 12:46 am


She scaled the giant stone lizard. Reaching, grasping, slipping and catching, she slowly made her way to its ferociously depicted ornate head. Inside its mouth was a single lizard’s scale. She snatched it out.

“This is a genuine scale”, she announced, “Proving there were giant lizards back then. That is, assuming this is to scale.”

» Posted By Land of Dave On 10.12.2013 @ 5:08 am


I was hoping for a change.

I didn’t know what change I was hoping for, but, I knew I needed something around me to change. This inactivity, this depression and anxiety. Something I couldn’t control must have caused it. Some unknown circumstance was to blame.

I was wrong.

But, somewhere deep down, I always knew that. I just couldn’t bring myself to admit it.

I was just hoping for a change.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 10.04.2013 @ 3:54 am


“I don’t like to admit this, but, my first serious relationship happened on the rebound.” Mike explained. I nodded.

“Wait,” I paused, “Your first? How can that be a rebound?”

“Well… not for me…” He struggled.

“Ouch.” I interrupted, understandingly, “I can see why you wouldn’t like to admit that.”

***Optional line:*** He grinned slyly at me, “It was your mother.”

» Posted By Land of Dave On 09.13.2013 @ 5:35 am


Her forehead begins to wrinkle as she lightly touches her forefingers to her temples. Eyes closed she focuses, as if recalling a faint and distant memory.

“That’s right.” The elder encourages, “I can sense your aura increasing.”

An autumn leaf, gently resting on the ornate stone in front of her, begins to glow.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 09.07.2013 @ 5:21 am


Now, reverence and respect, you have to expect, you’ll only present to the elect you select. But, whoever you value, not just the few you can hold up before you and know it’s true that they’re precious to you, but, anyone to whom honor is due, you should honor them too. Your present selection of who deserves affection is irrelevant and should not effect who you respect. If it does, you’re irreverent.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 07.23.2013 @ 7:40 pm


We walk down lines, predefined before our time. Stepping to the sound of a hope deep down, that somehow, even now, we’ll find a path unwritten.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 07.21.2013 @ 11:09 pm


I felt the rage inside me building up, like an army scaling a city wall. As it approached the top, I could tell things were about to get messy.

“… I mean, I’m not saying it’s wrong to believe in stuff. Just don’t do it near me. Those arabs and their bombs, the dumb christians and their lies, all that buddha junk… People that stupid shouldn’t be let in to society, you know. Angels and magic, no thanks. Keep what you think to yourself.”

Politely, I stayed silent. Politely, I ignored the young man who ignored his own, intolerant advice. The wall of ‘Politeness’ continued to grow.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 07.20.2013 @ 1:27 am


I’d like to think I’m creative.
I guess, if I believe I’m creative, the less correct I am, the more creative that belief is.

In a way, everyone who thinks they are creative must be right, if only in that one, very limited sense.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 07.05.2013 @ 11:54 pm


Above the world, on stilts of pride, I stride.
Looking down on those below, I go.

I pick up the pace with an upturned face.
No attention do I pay to where each footstep will lay.

Much to my dismay, gravity has yet a hand to play.
From my superior perch, majestically tall, I fall.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 06.23.2013 @ 7:49 pm


Some live as though they can oppose
That one direction in which time flows.
They must think death picks only those
Who acknowledge that life still comes and goes.
It’s a desperate hope that death only knows
Those of us whose awareness grows
That regardless of what life you chose,
All live and die and decompose.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 06.12.2013 @ 5:16 am


At first, I read “Mortgage” instead of “Montage”.
This incited a mortgage montage within the imaginative recesses of my mind. Don’t be fooled by the active nature of the word “incited”, it was, in fact, inanely boring. Just a series of expensive bills, one after another, taking decades to complete.
Usually a montage is a good deal more inspiring. My apologies, dear reader.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 06.06.2013 @ 11:26 pm


A half-illuminated face shines at me. Her right eye in shadows of her dark room and her left reflecting the bright screen of a computer. I flip a switch and brighten the room.

“Well?” I ask.
“I don’t feel like cards tonight.” She responds, “Besides, all my friends are on.” She gestures to the screen.

Back at the table we enjoy each others’ company. In the room she remains secludedly and deludedly social.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 05.30.2013 @ 9:37 pm




» Posted By Land of Dave On 04.27.2013 @ 6:03 am


In the evening, I feel able to speak. I can express my thoughts very clearly. But, when morning strikes, the river of eloquence regresses to a trickling brook of mumbling.

Somehow, I feel both get the point across fairly well.

One conveys my opinion with the grace of a fairly adequate orator. The other bluntly grunts, “Back off. Not a morning person.” or, in layman’s terms, “Bakrrrr grrrr blunnrrrrgggh”.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 04.17.2013 @ 7:10 am


A brick, alone, is without worth.
It can’t do much at all.
It’s just a piece of hardened earth,
Not wide. Not deep. Not tall.

It won’t keep you protected,
Nor keep you warm or fed.
It cannot be erected,
Into house, nor tent, nor bed.

But, if a brick is not alone,
If it surrounds itself with friends,
It makes the strongest kind of home.
One on which you can depend.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 03.23.2013 @ 3:13 am


I sat there, eyes unwaveringly focused on the pumpkin-headed scarecrow, eerily lit by reflected moonlight. I sighed, partly shadowed by the old wooden sign I leant against. It wore but a single, blood-red word, “Beware!”

Ha. If only I had adhered to that advice.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 03.21.2013 @ 7:16 am


Two men beside each other blinked in unison. A third scratched his head. The only woman at the table stopped taking notes, placed her pen down and looked up. They exchanged glances and looked back at me.

“Do you expect us to believe that?” she asked, almost menacingly.

“It is the truth,” I replied, “I haven’t expected anyone to believe it since the trial.”

Every parole meeting ended the same way.

“Thank you for your time,” she said, as if my time was my own to give.

» Posted By Land of Dave On 03.19.2013 @ 1:19 am

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