Obsidian Words
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Fathomless is the mind full of stories.
Achievements (7)
Stories (182)
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Two Roads Diverged.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and I… I took one path without much thought as to why. To be clear, that yellow wood was my life when I was young and impressionable, and that choice between paths was the difference of two entirely different lives I might have lived. That decision is the most notable division in my life, a point where I can glance back and see the diverging traffic and follow the transcript each option as if it had the chance to grow and culminate into separate timelines where one holds the person that I became and the other knows only a stranger that I fear to be. I recognise a canyon of difference between the person I became and that person that may have been had I made a different choice and it is startling. This is the point in my life where the path wasn't necessarily forged out in front of me with set slabs of pavement, but more a tugging of influences from either direction that could have torn me apart had I not chosen to step one way or the other and force those paths to separate.
By Obsidian Words3 years ago in Journal
Songs of my Life
I was raised on Friday nights filled with vinyl and CDs, of ballads, hits, classics and nostalgic melodies. My parents, sister, and I would dim the lights, pick an album and spend the night lost in the tunes. We had a wall of CD's a meter long and 2 shelves high. At one point I spent hours alphebetising them all, but I think I have up halfway through.
By Obsidian Words3 years ago in Beat
The Yellow Tent
It looked like soil, unassuming. I ran my eyes across it to find its edge and failed. It was unfathomably large. My tent seemed comically bright with its yellow polyester splashed against the night. I’d felt the swelling and sinking beneath me as I had tried to sleep and stepped outside to realise that the trees around me swayed, but there was no wind, and the heat below had not left with the sun. I had pitched my tent in the worst place imaginable. On the back of a creature so large that the forest floor heaved with its breathing.
By Obsidian Words3 years ago in Fiction
Unrequited Pen-Pal
Dear love, Thanks for being so damn elusive that I searched for twenty-five years with little to no luck and bruises on parts of me that don’t even have skin. Seriously, for an incorporeal, near incomprehensible concept you sure know how to throw a good punch.
By Obsidian Words3 years ago in Poets
Screens Apart
Dear Followers, You may lack faces but you thrive nonetheless with your nonsensical names and witty interactions. The distance between us is, at most, astronomical, and at best, unknown. Yet you are closer to me than the neighbours I've shared a wall with for nearly a year and the value you have inherited is immeasurable - not as to say it is unquantifiably large but as to say it has an importance that stands outside the common metric of measurement for social interaction. We’ve never truly met, never shared a room in more than context and conversation, yet you know me better, and visit more often, than those I share blood with.
By Obsidian Words3 years ago in Poets
