I blasted off into space and just like that I felt weightless. Who would have known that fish could lose their sense of gravity? Not I, the clowniest clown fish of all, Bobo.
let’s get blasted,
that’s all you can say to me as you drive.
let’s get blasted.
we need to forget what just happened.
you’re trying not to cry
or send your car flying off the freeway.
let’s get blasted.
It all got blasted into the atmosphere. Chunks of burning rocket fell to the earth, leaving behind depressing trails of black smoke. So much for a summer’s work, hoping to impress the eager eyes of his son.
it was after the war that we emerged from the rubble like flies feeding on a carcass. i wasn’t sure where i was for the three weeks i spent rubbing my palms into dirt and licking my lips until my tongue was just as parched. it is pain which dragged me here, coarsed through my ribcage, my spine, my femurs.
From the yard came a boom followed by the chuckle of old men. The sun set in the late August sky, casting a golden glow on the broomstraw field as it was littered with potatos from the new potato cannon. The invention of a lifetime.
My grip tightened on the grip of my gun. “Come on, Lana. You don’t wanna go down like this. Blasted into atmo?” I whistled lowly. “It’s not a pretty sight,”
She laughed, throwing her head back to expose the pale column of her throat. “You think you can kill me? Just like that?” she spread her arms. “Do it then,”
My fingers loosened and tightened reflexively on the trigger. “You don’t wanna do this,”
She laughed again, quieter this time. “I’m not afraid of you, Kolara,” she said simply, her lips curling upward in a small smile. “If you want to kill me, do it,”
“It’s not about want,” I snapped. “It’s about need,”
Pew! Pew! Pew! He shot his lazer cannon as fast as he could at the oncoming alien horde, blasting them in to little bits. Green and blue blood and guts splattered everywhere. Then he woke up in his bed at home.
the world was destroyed and the buildings collapsed, the entire existance i once lived was blasted away by sheer explosive force, nothing could reconcile my loss, noithing in the entire world. if all were to fail me now then i shall go ahead with my plan, i have nothing to lose. My life is nothing more than the shadows of what was once destroyed, blasted.
in the club, nowhere to run from the hedonism around you, glorified for your ability to damage what is yours and no-one else’s. Groove while you can, blasted.
Blunders are packed
loosely into my back pocket.
Another rejection, another
silence, another lie, another
thoughtless expectation without
explanation as to why I
deem it necessary to feel.
She blasted his brains all over the back wall, threw away the gun and walked out the door, never to return again. With one bang, she said goodbye to her dead husband, her life and her heart.
He blasted his way through the heavy door, screaming as he ran into the abandoned house. “Melody!! Meelooodyyy!” He called for her up and down the stairs, searching around corners and trying to find his love. “Jesus, where are you?! I need you!!” He finally gave up his search in this house, and resolved that she would surely be in the next abandoned house on the block.
He blasted his way through the heavy door, screaming as he ran into the abandoned house. “Melody!! Meelooodyyy!” He called for her up and down the stairs, searching around corners and trying to find his love. “Jesus, where are you?! I need you!!” He finally gave up his search in this house, and resolved that she would surely be in the next abandoned house on the block.
One night a couple of friends and I were driving down the backroads around our fair city. I had crashed my dad’s truck earlier that day, so the front bumper hung at an unfortunately low level. No one can say for sure how the fireworks came to be in our possession, but by the end of the night all of them had been set off.
I’m on the phone and I just want to talk with someone and this blasted music is just playing, and playing and suddenly there are lyrics and I can’t understand them. These songs… I can’t believe it. Still busy? How many people use Teavana’s service? How long am I going to have to hold? What IS this?
What’s funny is that it’s not funny.
What’s funnier is how easily ticked off I am.
Tickled, my dad might say.
I prefer pissed.
The soda bottle blasted into the sky and shot up so high we almost lost sight of it. This was the best summer of my life, although I knew it would end with my parents getting divorced and moving apart from each other; there was something exciting about it, the uncertainty, the mysterious place we’d be travelling to carry on our lives. All the sudden my days in Minnesota we’re numbered and I knew it was likely that I’d never see many of these my friends and acquaintances again. Living in a moment I’d never be able to get back at made me wonder what my next adventure had in store for me.
It was the 5th of July. Not even the 4th. You always did everything your own ridiculous way. I came over on that humid evening, just see if you wanted to maybe catch a movie with me, but you were totally blasted.
I blasted away at the heart
of the one who used to say
yes
all the time.
shafted she was
once in the bed
now on the street
swearing, yelling, hurling insults
filled with profane and
harsh sounds
like a gunshot in the
wound of another being
I have found the gun blast brings
release.
Blasted to the past from the burning joint on the table,
forgetting what was to forget what’s now.
Losing my mind through the blaze, growing unstable,
throw more wood on the fire. Melting down
from a someone to a snake skin. I’m not able
to express myself through pencil and pen.
Every now and then I hear a cry. I want to go to it. To hold her. Comfort her. Tell her that everything is going to be okay. But then I see the blasted walls, bombed streets, and know I would be lying. I crawl aroung the corner and see her curled in the one corner not scorched by the blast. My vision goes black again, I lay down my head. If you only look at her, and nothing else surrounding you, it looks like we’re back to playing hide and seek.
“Nine, ten! Here I come!!”
When I heard the giggles behind the rocking chair I walked the other way.
“Where are you…?”
Rustling as she shifts to peek out at me as I walk into the kitchen.
“Where could she have gone?”
I turn back around and head back towards the couch. As I get closer to her hiding spot more nervous giggles begin. I reach behind the chair and grab her at her sides as she erupts into screeching laughter.
“There you are!”
I twirl her around and around till we fall onto the couch, laughing and squirming around each other. The timer goes off and we go silent, smiling as big as we can.
“Cookies!”
I head into the kitchen and open the oven door, perfect. I begin laying the cookies out on the
BOOM
My eyes are blurry and my head hurts. Everything is black and white. Are my ears ringing? Yes. God my head. I sit up, sirens are going off in the background. The TV is still on. The ringing is killing my head. But it’s not in my head. It’s Emma. Emma is screaming. I look around. The walls are gone, leaving this side of the house open to the street. Neighboors are running. Why? Screaming. I have to find her. I stand, too fast, and my eyes go black, the ringing comes back, but I have to find her. I left her on the couch, which has gone grey with ash. Shes hiding in the corner I run to pick her up. She wraps her legs around me, her body shakes with her sobs. I hold her head to my neck, and I start running too.
The helecopter flies right over our neighborhood. Emma presses against me so she doesnt have to look out the window. In some places, it looks like nothing happened. Mr. Klines yard is still green and Ms. Webbers garden gnomes and flamingos are still standing around the yard. But our house, and all those around it look like skeletons. All the flesh blasted off leaving nothing but bones.
The flight takes too long, Emma gets restless. When we land she trips trying to get out. I pick her up and make my way to the building where nurses try to peel her from my arms. They end up checking her as she sits in my lap. When we are finally released, we are handed water, two blankets, and are pointed in the direction of a corner where we can sit till food is available.
“What about the cookies mama?”
“Well have to wait to make some new ones.”
She nodds and lays down on the blankets.
We talk as the kids run and play on the grass. We try to guess when we’ll be able to move into the houses being built. About the future our kids will have. About the blasts we hear on the other side of the mountain.
“Living underground wont be the same. Im afriad for the kids not seeing the sun, or getting fresh air.”
“Nothing will be the same”
Kaity was one of the parents who voted against underground housing. When the desision was made to empty out the storage facility downstairs and build temporary homes, her and several others protested. They wanted everything to go back to normal. “The ships have moved on from this area, we know they wont come back. It’s safe now!” The group leadres had argued for days, but eventually, underground was safest.
“Kaity, we can protect them underground. And It’s not like they’ll never see the outdoors again. This is temporary. Not to mention that it will be good for them to not breath in smoke for awhile. You cant even see the sun right now.”
We look out on our kids, laughing and playing in the sooty grass. This is for them. What we want doesn’t matter right now.
He blasted out in laughter. Never had he thought he would be so lucky to meet a girl like her, and never did he expect to actually get her. Now here they were, and he could not stop laughing. Life was wonderfully amazing.
My son has always liked playing nurf wars. In the house, in the yard…other places he’s not supposed to. Usually, my head is the target. I’ll never forget the time I was trying to help my daughter with homework, and then it happened….BLASTED in the eye with a neon green disk.
Blasted into nothing. Well, not nothing. Atoms. And that’s what we all are to start with, aren’t we? Sometimes I think that’s all we are. And like atoms make our cells, and cells make our bodies, maybe we make God. Maybe we are the nothing and God is the everything.
He blasted into her life like a bastard child. Unexpected, unwanted. That’s what the connection is. A bastard child is like a bomb in that sense. But far nicer to have in your life. He was more bomb than bastard.
Those blasted boys. Blasted is just a less violent way of saying bastard, isn’t it? It makes no sense. Blown apart, bomb like .. how is this like an illegitimate child? I can’t see any connection. It’s just a silly ‘sounds like’ thing.
so there I was, highschool, blasted out of my mind. I could have just done nothing but instead i got high as fuck. I could have just lived out this dreaded moment without weed. Well, since i’m high might as well get some munchies.
“this blasted screwdriver!”
“i don’t think it’s the screwdriver’s fault dad”
“it is, ok? it is. it’s the screwdriver’s fault that this goddamn bookshelf doesn’t want to fit together”
“dad, it’s an ikea bookshelf. it doesn’t even ask you to use a screwdriver”
“goddammit jim!!”
He had no idea it was coming. It was just a normal day, just going to work as usual, dreading having to deal with the politics and the menial tiny things that always got under his skin. But he opened the door, and suddenly there was no door– there was weightlessness, and a force threw his whole body against the cabinets behind him. His breath gone, he looked up– and his lab mates were laughing, standing ’round the air canon with infuriating grins.
i blasted him for disrespecting me in front of our friends. on so many occasions i have asked him to speak to me kindly when we’re in the company of others. i know his anxiety and strict need for precision get the better of him and he loses awareness of how his actions impact others.
I blasted off into space and just like that I felt weightless. Who would have known that fish could lose their sense of gravity? Not I, the clowniest clown fish of all, Bobo.
Into space we go and the speed of light’s got nothing on us. Just wait and see how far we’ll go. BLASTED!
let’s get blasted,
that’s all you can say to me as you drive.
let’s get blasted.
we need to forget what just happened.
you’re trying not to cry
or send your car flying off the freeway.
let’s get blasted.
Blasted!
Blasted!
It all got blasted into the atmosphere. Chunks of burning rocket fell to the earth, leaving behind depressing trails of black smoke. So much for a summer’s work, hoping to impress the eager eyes of his son.
it was after the war that we emerged from the rubble like flies feeding on a carcass. i wasn’t sure where i was for the three weeks i spent rubbing my palms into dirt and licking my lips until my tongue was just as parched. it is pain which dragged me here, coarsed through my ribcage, my spine, my femurs.
From the yard came a boom followed by the chuckle of old men. The sun set in the late August sky, casting a golden glow on the broomstraw field as it was littered with potatos from the new potato cannon. The invention of a lifetime.
The laser fired. Around the room, people stopped what they were doing and stared, frozen, at the hole it had left.
“I…” James said. “I didn’t… I mean…”
My grip tightened on the grip of my gun. “Come on, Lana. You don’t wanna go down like this. Blasted into atmo?” I whistled lowly. “It’s not a pretty sight,”
She laughed, throwing her head back to expose the pale column of her throat. “You think you can kill me? Just like that?” she spread her arms. “Do it then,”
My fingers loosened and tightened reflexively on the trigger. “You don’t wanna do this,”
She laughed again, quieter this time. “I’m not afraid of you, Kolara,” she said simply, her lips curling upward in a small smile. “If you want to kill me, do it,”
“It’s not about want,” I snapped. “It’s about need,”
Pew! Pew! Pew! He shot his lazer cannon as fast as he could at the oncoming alien horde, blasting them in to little bits. Green and blue blood and guts splattered everywhere. Then he woke up in his bed at home.
the world was destroyed and the buildings collapsed, the entire existance i once lived was blasted away by sheer explosive force, nothing could reconcile my loss, noithing in the entire world. if all were to fail me now then i shall go ahead with my plan, i have nothing to lose. My life is nothing more than the shadows of what was once destroyed, blasted.
in the club, nowhere to run from the hedonism around you, glorified for your ability to damage what is yours and no-one else’s. Groove while you can, blasted.
Blunders are packed
loosely into my back pocket.
Another rejection, another
silence, another lie, another
thoughtless expectation without
explanation as to why I
deem it necessary to feel.
She blasted his brains all over the back wall, threw away the gun and walked out the door, never to return again. With one bang, she said goodbye to her dead husband, her life and her heart.
He blasted his way through the heavy door, screaming as he ran into the abandoned house. “Melody!! Meelooodyyy!” He called for her up and down the stairs, searching around corners and trying to find his love. “Jesus, where are you?! I need you!!” He finally gave up his search in this house, and resolved that she would surely be in the next abandoned house on the block.
He blasted his way through the heavy door, screaming as he ran into the abandoned house. “Melody!! Meelooodyyy!” He called for her up and down the stairs, searching around corners and trying to find his love. “Jesus, where are you?! I need you!!” He finally gave up his search in this house, and resolved that she would surely be in the next abandoned house on the block.
One night a couple of friends and I were driving down the backroads around our fair city. I had crashed my dad’s truck earlier that day, so the front bumper hung at an unfortunately low level. No one can say for sure how the fireworks came to be in our possession, but by the end of the night all of them had been set off.
I’m on the phone and I just want to talk with someone and this blasted music is just playing, and playing and suddenly there are lyrics and I can’t understand them. These songs… I can’t believe it. Still busy? How many people use Teavana’s service? How long am I going to have to hold? What IS this?
What’s funny is that it’s not funny.
What’s funnier is how easily ticked off I am.
Tickled, my dad might say.
I prefer pissed.
Bits of the sun were scattered like the great, four winds. No one knew why or how, but seven billion stars came to be in a universe of darkness.
The soda bottle blasted into the sky and shot up so high we almost lost sight of it. This was the best summer of my life, although I knew it would end with my parents getting divorced and moving apart from each other; there was something exciting about it, the uncertainty, the mysterious place we’d be travelling to carry on our lives. All the sudden my days in Minnesota we’re numbered and I knew it was likely that I’d never see many of these my friends and acquaintances again. Living in a moment I’d never be able to get back at made me wonder what my next adventure had in store for me.
Rockets, explosions, science, astronauts, space, rocket science, chemistry, physics, mathematical calculations to make the correct explosion/blast.
It was the 5th of July. Not even the 4th. You always did everything your own ridiculous way. I came over on that humid evening, just see if you wanted to maybe catch a movie with me, but you were totally blasted.
She blasted through the underbrush, sure of surprising any lurking spies.
No one must know of her visit to the sacred spot, the spot of her beginning.
I blasted away at the heart
of the one who used to say
yes
all the time.
shafted she was
once in the bed
now on the street
swearing, yelling, hurling insults
filled with profane and
harsh sounds
like a gunshot in the
wound of another being
I have found the gun blast brings
release.
Blasted to the past from the burning joint on the table,
forgetting what was to forget what’s now.
Losing my mind through the blaze, growing unstable,
throw more wood on the fire. Melting down
from a someone to a snake skin. I’m not able
to express myself through pencil and pen.
Every now and then I hear a cry. I want to go to it. To hold her. Comfort her. Tell her that everything is going to be okay. But then I see the blasted walls, bombed streets, and know I would be lying. I crawl aroung the corner and see her curled in the one corner not scorched by the blast. My vision goes black again, I lay down my head. If you only look at her, and nothing else surrounding you, it looks like we’re back to playing hide and seek.
“Nine, ten! Here I come!!”
When I heard the giggles behind the rocking chair I walked the other way.
“Where are you…?”
Rustling as she shifts to peek out at me as I walk into the kitchen.
“Where could she have gone?”
I turn back around and head back towards the couch. As I get closer to her hiding spot more nervous giggles begin. I reach behind the chair and grab her at her sides as she erupts into screeching laughter.
“There you are!”
I twirl her around and around till we fall onto the couch, laughing and squirming around each other. The timer goes off and we go silent, smiling as big as we can.
“Cookies!”
I head into the kitchen and open the oven door, perfect. I begin laying the cookies out on the
BOOM
My eyes are blurry and my head hurts. Everything is black and white. Are my ears ringing? Yes. God my head. I sit up, sirens are going off in the background. The TV is still on. The ringing is killing my head. But it’s not in my head. It’s Emma. Emma is screaming. I look around. The walls are gone, leaving this side of the house open to the street. Neighboors are running. Why? Screaming. I have to find her. I stand, too fast, and my eyes go black, the ringing comes back, but I have to find her. I left her on the couch, which has gone grey with ash. Shes hiding in the corner I run to pick her up. She wraps her legs around me, her body shakes with her sobs. I hold her head to my neck, and I start running too.
The helecopter flies right over our neighborhood. Emma presses against me so she doesnt have to look out the window. In some places, it looks like nothing happened. Mr. Klines yard is still green and Ms. Webbers garden gnomes and flamingos are still standing around the yard. But our house, and all those around it look like skeletons. All the flesh blasted off leaving nothing but bones.
The flight takes too long, Emma gets restless. When we land she trips trying to get out. I pick her up and make my way to the building where nurses try to peel her from my arms. They end up checking her as she sits in my lap. When we are finally released, we are handed water, two blankets, and are pointed in the direction of a corner where we can sit till food is available.
“What about the cookies mama?”
“Well have to wait to make some new ones.”
She nodds and lays down on the blankets.
We talk as the kids run and play on the grass. We try to guess when we’ll be able to move into the houses being built. About the future our kids will have. About the blasts we hear on the other side of the mountain.
“Living underground wont be the same. Im afriad for the kids not seeing the sun, or getting fresh air.”
“Nothing will be the same”
Kaity was one of the parents who voted against underground housing. When the desision was made to empty out the storage facility downstairs and build temporary homes, her and several others protested. They wanted everything to go back to normal. “The ships have moved on from this area, we know they wont come back. It’s safe now!” The group leadres had argued for days, but eventually, underground was safest.
“Kaity, we can protect them underground. And It’s not like they’ll never see the outdoors again. This is temporary. Not to mention that it will be good for them to not breath in smoke for awhile. You cant even see the sun right now.”
We look out on our kids, laughing and playing in the sooty grass. This is for them. What we want doesn’t matter right now.
He blasted out in laughter. Never had he thought he would be so lucky to meet a girl like her, and never did he expect to actually get her. Now here they were, and he could not stop laughing. Life was wonderfully amazing.
My son has always liked playing nurf wars. In the house, in the yard…other places he’s not supposed to. Usually, my head is the target. I’ll never forget the time I was trying to help my daughter with homework, and then it happened….BLASTED in the eye with a neon green disk.
Blasted gun.
The first curse word I learned. It smacked of a nice mix of formality and crassness, irritability and humor.
5,4,3,2,1 BLAST OFF
as smoke, lights, fire and cheers flashed from the tv screen into my vision
I experiences my firt ever spaceship take off
Blasted into nothing. Well, not nothing. Atoms. And that’s what we all are to start with, aren’t we? Sometimes I think that’s all we are. And like atoms make our cells, and cells make our bodies, maybe we make God. Maybe we are the nothing and God is the everything.
He blasted into her life like a bastard child. Unexpected, unwanted. That’s what the connection is. A bastard child is like a bomb in that sense. But far nicer to have in your life. He was more bomb than bastard.
Those blasted boys. Blasted is just a less violent way of saying bastard, isn’t it? It makes no sense. Blown apart, bomb like .. how is this like an illegitimate child? I can’t see any connection. It’s just a silly ‘sounds like’ thing.
Lost and found hopes and dreams
so there I was, highschool, blasted out of my mind. I could have just done nothing but instead i got high as fuck. I could have just lived out this dreaded moment without weed. Well, since i’m high might as well get some munchies.
He blasted his blasphemous blabbers as a blazon on his blathering.
“this blasted screwdriver!”
“i don’t think it’s the screwdriver’s fault dad”
“it is, ok? it is. it’s the screwdriver’s fault that this goddamn bookshelf doesn’t want to fit together”
“dad, it’s an ikea bookshelf. it doesn’t even ask you to use a screwdriver”
“goddammit jim!!”
He had no idea it was coming. It was just a normal day, just going to work as usual, dreading having to deal with the politics and the menial tiny things that always got under his skin. But he opened the door, and suddenly there was no door– there was weightlessness, and a force threw his whole body against the cabinets behind him. His breath gone, he looked up– and his lab mates were laughing, standing ’round the air canon with infuriating grins.
i blasted him for disrespecting me in front of our friends. on so many occasions i have asked him to speak to me kindly when we’re in the company of others. i know his anxiety and strict need for precision get the better of him and he loses awareness of how his actions impact others.