Michael O'Connor
Bio
If you like my content, you can purchase my published short story in ebook or paperback on Amazon!
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CRF12G63
Stories (18)
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King of the Forgotten Land
It'll fuck you up, but it'll make you king of the forgotten land. That fucking bottle, the financial cost was at an all time low of three dollars. I don't know who told you that red wine was for the finer folk in society, but they were wrong. Sure, I mean believe it or not I've paid more than twenty dollars for the odd bottle of grape juice, the taste is phenomenal when you throw an extra buck on it, but the feelings all the same. Once, maybe twice I drank it in moderation, what an absolute bore it was. Sipping away like a happy little chap with a ticket to the chocolate factory, pretending I'm a superior human being, spitting on the bums with their disgusting clothes who perched next to garbage among the vermin. No no, not me. I knew what I was when I drank red wine. I was the vermin who lurked in the rotten alleyways and peered through blind eyes at the golden glow above, the golden glow filled with frocks and frills that caused me to shake with fury. How dare you have more than I, how dare you dress so clean so fresh and never have lived a life as I. You don't know what it's all about. You've not the slightest idea of what it means to be alive, to be human. See when I drank red wine, it wasn't to be used as a numbing agent to suppress the horror story that is life; it was to encourage that feeling, to put a heavy emphasis on the depressive nature of existing; to feel the beautiful, relentless truth of our society. Everything would come rushing in, and with tears streaming down my face I'd drift away to the songs of the other lost souls; Social Distortion, Days n Daze, Johnny Cash.
By Michael O'Connor2 years ago in Confessions
The Rolling of the Waves. Top Story - January 2024.
It’d be so easy to say that tonight I just went for a dip and got some dinner, but I won’t. Feeling a little low after rediscovering the soft, warm touch of a woman last night, I take the bike and cruise down to Cua Dai with 50k in my pocket. The lady who I pay to park keeps offering me coconuts until she was shown that I had a beer in my hand. A walk in the dark along the shore shows me what quiet is. The waves crash down so gently as a breeze almost sneaks by. There’s a young couple hanging off each other's arms and laughing before they settle in a wooden lounge chair to make out under the moonlight. I find a seat nearby just hoping to be seen - hoping that a beautiful woman will stroll by and want to have a beer and a cuddle with me. The rolling of the waves settles my maladjusted thoughts that swirl in a pool of wonder. One wave comes in to meet the sand, and another follows, and another…
By Michael O'Connor2 years ago in Humans
Isolated
Nothing's satisfying anymore Not bourbon, not arguments, not masturbating, not a great movie, only the morning coffee and cigarette. There's no relief or release anymore, we're nothing but stuck, without the hope of a road trip, or the wish of a gold coin.
By Michael O'Connor2 years ago in Confessions
The Day Begins with Love
And so the day begins. You wake up next to your new girlfriend, a quick cuddle, “Morning gorgeous,” then half roll, half fall out of bed. Your mind is still slipping peacefully out of the dreamland and preparing to face the reality that is life, oh sweet life. Your eyes haven't even slightly adjusted to that long, piercing streak of daylight that's penetrating your dry eyes through the crack in the curtains. You notice the thousands of tiny little dust particles shining in the air as they reflect the sun outside. Okay, crawling will work. You crawl over to the wooden, build it yourself stereo unit that your family helped put together. You find your grey tracksuit pants lying on the floor behind you, the pants that are torn and stained and still partially wet with Jack Daniels from the night before (and the night before that). Last night, shit, what did I do last night? You reach into the pockets with your tired, brittle fingers to find the brilliant, heavenly little bag of coffee alternatives that'll help to start the day out right.
By Michael O'Connor6 years ago in Humans
