August 13th, 2009 § 0
I am ditching the public blog. Maybe for good.
I have come to the realization that I am not a writer. Not a great one anyway. Maybe not even a good one. It is also something I simply don’t have time for in my life right now.
Thanks for understanding.
If you need me you can find me here @clintneville
July 31st, 2009 § 0
Playing with fire is fun and exciting, but there is one thing that you must never forget: You’re playing with fire.
July 14th, 2009 § 0
Erin sat up on her favorite rock. Maybe it wasn’t her favorite, but it was the one she was used to. She hugged her knees to her chest, curled her toes under, tried to keep warm against the cold, damp morning. She shivered, and tears came up from behind her eyelids. Why was every day so lonely?
Her dingy yellowed dress caught the first tear to fall. She would wait here, watch as the moisture in the warm ocean air condensed on her cold, gray skin.
Occasionally, she would see someone out walking on the coast in the still, dark gray of the morning. She used to, long ago, cry out to them. They never responded, never even noticed, and she gave up.
As the light grew over the horizon, she pushed back more tears. She knew what would come next. Every day had been the same for an eternity. The sun would rise and she would vanish. She would slip into a shiftless existence, nothing real, nothing to touch; not even the cold, damp rocks. Then the dream would come.
In a detached world of only thought and vision she would fall. Over and over she would fall from the cliff above the cave. Then she would see herself from the outside. She would see her body broken and twisted on the rocks just at the edge of the surf. She would see the blood trickling from her nose and slightly open mouth. Then she would look into her own lifeless eyes. They were open wide, looking at nothing. They blinked once, twice. With one long, lazy exhale, she would die.
Then she fell gain.
June 12th, 2009 § 0
Lil opened her eyes from the dream. She had just been running through a forest. A woody, damp, earthy-smelling forest. It always seemed so real. The spicy aroma of pine sap lingered in her nose and throat.
She had never seen a forest in person, not even so much as a lone tree. There were still some one Earth, but they were mostly in sanctuaries and religious settlements. There were certainly none this far into the industrial sector.
She rubbed the scratchy sleep out of her eyes, took a deep, sooty breath and rolled off of her worn mattress onto the cold concrete floor. She wrapped her gray tunic around herself and stared disdainfully at her surroundings. Gray walls, gray floor, gray clothes, gray sky. She recalled the vivid greens and cool browns from her dream; the occaisional bright yellow or purple of a flower. It seemed so alien to her. How could something like that ever have existed in this world?
In the growing light of the morning she finished dressing herself, consumed the remnants of last night’s nutri-pak, and in spite of her drap surroundings, skipped out the door to her room in the worker’s compound.
June 12th, 2009 § 2
I think Nick gets excited about evolution. I see him write about it just about every time there’s a major discovery, or a new book out about the subject.
I guess I’d sort of place myself in the “I don’t really care” camp. In spite of my conservative Christian upbringing, the idea of evolution isn’t appalling to me- though it’s not really appealing either. I guess I just don’t see how the argument really fits into my life in any meaningful way.
Before I get going, let me preface by saying that I think science is fun and exciting. I like physics especially, and I used to work on a nuclear power plant. This also isn’t going to be an article about evolution or creation or the eternal battle between the two. If a fight is what you’re looking for you’re in the wrong place.
The real question I pose isn’t a new one; it’s been asked thousands upon thousands of times, but here it is.
Are we really any better for all of this scientific mumbo-jumbo? Are these new discoveries and theories really that useful to humanity? Are we making things better for ourselves, or just more complicated?
I’ve got more ideas, but two hundred some-odd words is a good sized blog post for now…
June 11th, 2009 § 2
I sagged against the tree lazily. I felt its bark scratch at my back through my shirt on my way down to a seat at its roots.
“It’s a nice thing, touching a tree,” I think as I slide down to the ground and smile up through the tangled branches. “I wonder just how old you are?”
The blades of grass prick my hands as I come to rest on them. I tug gently at the ends my pants legs, lean my head back against this ageless giant and prepare for the spectacle. There is and ant, and two flies who are also here to watch.
The sky has been deep, warm orange fire for a long time now. The white-yellow blaze of the sun has fallen almost to the top of that far away hill.
Breathing slowly, and making the most of each moment, we watch as it drifts slower than a feather falling- down, down- until it is nothing but a silver speck just a lantern shining from beyond that bush there- the one right on top of the hill.
Then it is gone
June 9th, 2009 § 0
(edit this paragraph)They stood on the side of a rain-slick street. Everything reflected darkly off the black pavement, giving the impression that there were more lights than really existed, although none of them gave quite enough brightness for a night like this.(edit this paragraph)
He stared up at the black night for a moment, searching the sky for the words he needed, as if there would be an answer there.
He looked back down into her face, still beautiful even with the cloud of sorrow draped about it. The yellow light from the streetlamp diffused through the mist that was gathering a the frizzy ends of her dark hair, giving her an angel’s golden halo. There was an ocean of tears pooling behind her eyes, like a dam filled to the brink of spilling over.
He wished so badly that he could keep them back, stop the impending flood; but this storm had gone on for too long already.
He held her tight for one more moment, one last kiss. Then, after a long breath, he opened his mouth to speak…
May 27th, 2009 § 2
I have never done one of these. Nick inspired me with his.
I am a failure. This is the largest, most draining personal struggle of my life. I have a constant, nagging feeling that I have somehow missed my true purpose on earth, and as such, will never be able to reach my full potential as a human.
I am a fan of sci-fi literature. I am very picky, however, and refuse to read anything but the “good stuff”. This makes it very difficult to find things to read I go months sometimes without touching a book. I’m sure this results in my missing many good stories, but it’s part of being a snob. That said…
I am a snob. I don’t really mean to be, but I am. I like things a certain way, and that way happens to be the best way. And I am right. This causes me to hurt and frustrate others at times, but my closest friends love me anyway and know that I love them to- in spite of me.
I am a Christian. I think that this is a very incomplete and widely misunderstood definition, but it holds significant meaning for my life. This actually may be the only thing Nick and I “disagree” on. I place disagree in quotes, because I really think that we feel similarly about this, our definitions are just different. Symantics. I could be wrong though.
I am a socialist/communist/capitalist/de-centralist. Trying to define my political ideas is kind of like swimming through chocolate pudding, but it doesn’t taste as good. I think that there is an appropriate system that works best for specific cultures at specific times.
Overall though, I prefer that government remain small and that people learn to rely on themselves and each other for survival, rather than contracting out another authority to make decisions for them. This would make a better world and a stronger family of man. I know that I am right about this.
I am anti-social, and I love people. It’s a conundrum. I love being with friends in small groups, I desperately need my time alone, and I feel alive when I am pressed shoulder to shoulder with others in a crowded street.
I used to want to kill myself. It was a bad time, but I got over it. Medicine helped; my wife helped a lot.
I think getting in bed at the end of the day is the greatest thing ever, especially when my wife is there to snuggle with. It is my favorite time of the day.
I cry sometimes when my daughter smiles and laughs. It is hands-down the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced. It overwhelms me.
I like technology, but I think the world would be better off without so much it. We’re too easily learning not to relate to one another on a human level.
I know it shouldn’t bother me so much, but I wish that Josh Brown would be my friend. I’ve tried, but he doesn’t answer.
I am still in the process of losing most everything I have built for myself in the past few years due to a business failure. It has been one of the most trying experiences of my life; for my family as well. For all the pain, it has been a lick worth taking. I hope that I come out on the other end of this better and smarter for it.
To expand on #12, my greatest personal goal is to simply be “better” tomorrow than I am today. More loving, compassionate, generous, discerning, etc. I think I am at least marginally successful in accomplishing this day to day.
I love the ocean. I have a need to see it every once in a while. It is my favorite thing in this world. I dream of sailing all alone for months, reading, fishing, and swimming.
I’m an early riser. I always have been. I wish mornings started slower though. It seems like the world insists that you accelerate to light speed immediately upon waking.
May 19th, 2009 § 0
She enjoyed this place; sitting, staring at her reflection in the water. It was somewhere safe, sacred, an escape from the turmoil around her. Here in the quiet of the woods she could be herself. There was noone else to answer to. Noone to please.
The sound came from behind her. The crunch of a heavy footstep on the scattered leaves of the forest. She huddled against the base of a tree, not moving, trying hard not to even breathe. She knew the danger of being here alone, and had accepted it for these small moments of peace.
After what seemed like an eternity she relaxed, chiding herself for being so frightenable, so childish. She rose, smoothed the front of her dress and turned from the tree only to see it standing there in front of her.
How long had it waited there in complete silence just waiting for her to move? She didn’t even have time to scream before the beast crushed her throat in its hands.
