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BY Odbe

07/01 Direct Link
How many people start their 100 words by wondering about the project itself? I will not deviate this time. I know this month will be interesting. I've always needed the kick in the behind that will get me writing regularly. I'm wondering whether it will just turn into another commitment I struggle to keep up. Once I start something, I have to keep going until the finish. Sometimes I don't. I just let it melt down into a pool of guilt. I know that doing something, anything, daily is harder than it sounds. Daily means every single day. Every one.
07/02 Direct Link
I must be mad. I'm wondering if this is some kind of weird torture. I get so tired I'm sick, so cold I'm weak, and then I get up before the sun for a walk in the freezing morning air. In shorts. At least I brought a cardigan.
But a thousand words can't describe a moment of it. Was it worth it? You can't compare a pre-dawn beach to anything, least of all worth. But I was glad I went. Tearing myself out of bed at ridiculous hours: agony. Only now can I look back and feel grateful I did.
07/03 Direct Link
Wrong sick disturbed perverted strange misunderstood dark serious harmful inconsiderate abusive troubled distressing unstable traumatic destructive misguided attention-seeking pitiful helpless consumptive irrational incomprehensible confused unreal precious musical private intoxicating vulnerable exposed risky dizzying dreamy compulsive secret instinctive denial paradoxical good ecstasy addictive dangerous immoral outlandish stupid joking wannabe fantasy rebelling disrespectful something-to-prove artificial false peer-pressured bad chaotic awkward offensive sensitive morbid wretched afflicted weary zealous overused controversial free isolated complicated painful.

This is not a joke this is not a game this is not a message this is not a sign this is not real this can not endure. Bandwagon.
07/04 Direct Link
Blood is really cool because:
It is water-soluble
It comes out of clothes (usually)
It makes very good ink
Everyone has it and generates it daily
No one can live without it
It's not just a liquid, there are so many cultural associations and tons of symbolism
It's mostly water but also part plasma
It's a different colour when it dries to when it's wet
Science likes it
It looks funky under a microscope
It's very hard to get a convincing fake blood
It separates out when you leave it
It looks good in vials
It tastes pretty good too!
07/05 Direct Link
Silver strip, flat and angled. Press down, then pull to change your life. I paint myself in red and yellow. Two-coloured blazon on my method of transport, but covered by day in black cloth — or sometimes white.
I have let my confidence become represented by a bloodstain. Striped lines are my pride. Their gentle sting is what keeps me strong in myself yet once this job was done by something I had earned by right. It is ironic but also unstable because now I am pulling out to keep my dignity. I need to know I did this for myself.
07/06 Direct Link
He sat alone on the hard bench. The yellow light of a streetlamp cast his elongated shadow onto the grass in front of him. He lifted his gaze into the dusky sky. She wasn't here yet, but she was always on time. What if her car had crashed? He imagined a voice: I'm sorry sir, there's been an accident& Police only ring the family, don't they? Would they ring him, since he wasn't married to her? He imagined finding out from her mother. Then his eyes picked out her approaching figure in the retreating light, and his unreasonable worries evaporated.
07/07 Direct Link
The children who live in northern Chile and Argentina, and a small part of Bolivia are in one small way much luckier than all others. Tell me, did you not try to dig a hole to China as a child? Do you remember growing old enough to realise it was impossible, then scorning the children who still tried? I discovered that even if you somehow could dig through the massive super-heated core of the earth, from here you would end up not in China but in the North Atlantic ocean. But these lucky South American children are directly opposite China.
07/08 Direct Link
What can you do when you hear about this stuff happening? What the hell can you do? How can you look people in the eyes, knowing this stuff?
You can listen, you can believe them, you can keep it in the back of your mind all the time in sympathy. You can know that shit happens and from the wretched depths of your heart thank, thank, thank, prostrate yourself with gratitude every moment of every blessed day that people have died, fought, struggled and worked so that you can be born into a place where it doesn't happen to you.
07/09 Direct Link
I often browse at random through 100 words entries.
I've seen a recurring theme in some entries, not a majority but a common thread in a few. It begins with a serene or everyday scene. A couple watching a butterfly. A man buying a ticket. In the last sentence there is some horrible unprecedented twist — someone cuts off their fingers, or commits suicide. I wonder why I enjoy these sudden wrenches, like those in Roald Dahl's adult books.
I could say it reflects my life, but it doesn't and right now I'm fed up with and sick of teen angst.
07/10 Direct Link
Even if only for a moment of a life of a population of a multitude — stop.
Sweeping pull of brush through hair. Flow of shirt down form. Leg swings in footstep. Slow easing back into chair. Mighty swing of hand and thumping connection. Poetry of slow caress. Linear up-reaching to break fruit from stalk. Quick, controlled hand-jerks make ink-trails over paper. Interlock and squeeze of fingers.
It is the simplest thing, yet the most breathtaking wonder that blinds us to all other beauty in its radiance.
We don't know what it is.
We call it miracle; we call it human.
07/11 Direct Link
Take a knife or take a vow
Tell me this is real,
That's all I want to hear
But 'reality' fucked itself out of existence
a long, long time ago.
I don't even know if death throes
mean you're dying any more
Or if they're just the next charade,
the next pitiful mask to cover
eroded self-esteem.

And how the hell do I keep skulling down gallons of self-pity? Don't you look at a kid eating sugar straight from the bowl when they think no-one's watching, and think, Aren't they getting sick from that?

I think I took the vow.
07/12 Direct Link
Preysong?
Nosong.
Packhunt? Preyhunt?
Noprey. Nohunt.
Huntprey huntsong!
Nohunt.
Runsong. Runhunt.
Runsilent. Nosong.
Windscent preyspoor. Prey?
Windscent, nopreyspoor. Noprey. Windrun.
Runfree!
Windrun, huntsilence.
Huntbrother.
Huntsister, run with me.
Welcome back.


I wake up with stiff sore legs, a couple of pieces of grass in my hair and traces of dirt on my hands. I know what's happened. At least there are no marks this time. I used to hate it, having to choose a place for the next mark. But I knew I had to, or else they'd end up somewhere people could see them. This way I stay safe.
07/13 Direct Link
Antares is the constellation Scorpius' brightest star. It is a bright star with a reddish colouring. Its name comes from Greek, meaning that it is comparable to Mars in colour and brightness ('Ant' meaning hold, 'Ares' meaning Mars, thus 'holds against Mars.') According to Wikipedia and whichever source the article's author filched their information from, if you put Antares where our sun is, it is so large it would cover all the planets out to Jupiter.
It's heaps bigger than our sun, which is heaps bigger than our earth, your city and you. You thought you had a huge backyard?
07/14 Direct Link
There's something in my head today There's something in my head It's dancing through my mind right now it just won't go away A sight, a sound, a thought or a smell I really can't decide It's eating its way through my mind right now What is it? I just can't tell And oh! for a moment of restful peace I'd go to any length It's wringing me outside-in right now I only ask for release There's something in my head today There's something in my head I've written it down onto paper just now I hope it goes away.
07/15 Direct Link
When I start writing I often spend a long time searching for the right pen. Supposedly writers will write the same regardless of condition, but that's not the case for me. Sometimes I need an inky pen that flows and glides across the page. Sometimes only a firm blue ballpoint will do. Long stories and book reviews are only written on a computer. Poetry must be on paper. Short stories and essays are often started on paper, then entered into a computer for editing. Sometimes I can't write no matter what I do. Writers, by all accounts, are temperamental beasts.
07/16 Direct Link
The below description is not me.
But imagine this: a girl opposed to cruelty. She can't stand people hurting animals. Someone swatting a fly or kicking a dog makes her blood boil. She abhors bullies, and will always defend a victim. Her greatest horror is torture. The idea of someone being so destroyed — with deliberation — evokes an acute and overpowering disgust from the depth of her being. It is so profound that she cannot even watch a movie with such a scene in it.
She is single-minded in her intolerance of cruelty.
She has fallen in love with a sadist.
07/17 Direct Link
In amongst the fear and horror there is a tiny speck of gladness. I feel like I am a traitor for having it; I can't reason its existence. Then I realise that this is like getting a tooth pulled out at the dentist — you spend days sick and afraid at the thought of it, but when it comes you can only get it over with. I don't want to think about what I'm about to do. I don't want to think about how long it will go for and what will happen. I just want to concentrate on the speck.
07/18 Direct Link
I say something, teasing gently, and she smiles as she always does — but oh God, she looks so tired. It's tearing my heart to see these lines appear on her face — they're appearing on both of us. We live this life, where there are so many brambles and catches we can't walk barefoot, so we take a wild tearing pace and don't look back, go so fast we can't see what's scaring us. But there are always going to be these times when we have to stop and look at each other and touch our scars. The two of us.
07/19 Direct Link
Snap a green bough leave the sap to flow down your arm all pitted and worn from earlier times leave me here I won't go if it's not understood that you can't leave a city there to fall on itself if you have a cape it doesn't make you a hero if you have a teardrop it doesn't make it alright if you can't see the music then try to hear the sky it's alright it's okay it's all going to be okay, be okay, be alright, be better times see better things I'll hold you here and it's okay.
07/20 Direct Link
Blue: sea, sky, blueberries, fans, plastic, blankets, satin bowerbirds, sticky-tape holder, toothbrush. Prussian blue, mist blue, navy blue, powder blue, dragonfly blue, sky blue, Ashley blue, kingfisher blue, electric blue. Blue is a favourite colour. Blue is the colour of a mood that spawned a style of music. Blue eyes, blue bag, blue clothes. Blue skin when it gets really cold. Blue veins under the skin. Blood isn't really blue when it hasn't touched air; it's the way light refracts through skin that makes it look blue. Blue copper oxide or blue pH indicator in base.

Blue
Lavender
Ultramarine
Estuary
07/21 Direct Link
If I had a dream to call my own, I would sit it in the palm of my hand and watch it. If I was dreaming it, I would be running through my life with a long branch dipped in paint. It would be a frozen moment from a day at school, and I would lope through the passages and classrooms past unmoving students, painting red streaks and stripes on all the walls and doors. Perhaps I would find you there, stilled in your chair, and draw a red swipe on your face for you to find when you awaken.
07/22 Direct Link
The most infuriating thing about the 100words project is not being able to read back over the month. I know there's no actual rule against it, but I have promised myself I won't look back until it's done. I keep itching to open them. Is it sounding too angsty? Is it too personal, or too impersonal? Am I doing too many of the flowing-thoughts-without-sentence-breaks kind? Too many emotional-view-of-character entries?
It is an effort of will to open up my 100words folder and only click on today's entry. My mouse hovers over the txt files, but I resist temptation. I'm committed.
07/23 Direct Link
I'm only writing because I've resolved not to let a day go if I remember before it's over. And sure enough, I remember just before I go to bed. I'm not even writing on a computer. Well, here it is. Just what I promised I wouldn't do: an entry devoid of creativity, inspiration or expression. Now, because my brain is so addled with exhaustion, I have to babble on about things like the fact that there's a Lord of the Rings poster on my bedroom wall. Not based on the movie, either. I probably won't even read through this entry.
07/24 Direct Link
The bouquet on my back doorstep was left to fall down the cellar stairs; its withered blooms fed a rat infected by the plague. Their feeble nourishment gave it the strength to carry on for long enough to pass the lethal hitchhiker on to one more rat, who in turn infected another two before it died. A young girl was hospitalised on the 24th of July with bubonic plague. As the doctor's words left his lips the girl's father dropped his head into his hands and the bouquet fell from his limp fingers. What if I had taken the flowers?
07/25 Direct Link
'And you'd better not crow about it, unless you want to get shuttled.'
'Shuttled!' he scoffed. 'I wouldn't get shuttled for that.'
The older man suddenly stopped and looked Rizar in the face, his grey eyes uncharacteristically grave.
'My dear boy, I had hoped you, of all people would know by now: the overlords are well and truly mad. Keep it in mind.'
And with that he turned and strode off into the echoing pipeways, Rizu following at a trot in a somewhat chastened silence. Another snap shot of a story I will never finish, people I will never meet.
07/26 Direct Link
One two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty one twenty two twenty three twenty four twenty five twenty six twenty seven twenty eight twenty nine thirty thirty one thirty two thirty three thirty four thirty five thirty six thirty seven thirty eight thirty nine forty forty one forty two forty three forty four forty five forty six forty seven forty eight forty nine fifty fifty one fifty two fifty three fifty four fifty five fifty six fifty seven fifty eight fifty nine sixty. Sixty words ninety-six numbers.
07/27 Direct Link
'I truly feel you're just raving now.'
Oh but I am, and what of it? For I have seen such things, held Time like burning quicksilver in my very teeth, and could not be otherwise than mad.
'You are forgetting: I have been with you all the way, I was at your side in the bad times and the dark times. I know your core as you know mine.'
Such heartfelt words! Your speech is one that should move me, on any other day would be touching, but now I can only feel the hollow where the emotion should be.
07/28 Direct Link
Let's play the word association game.

Word — speech — lectern — wood — tree — majesty — crown — shiny - OOH SHINY! Um, crystal — monoclinic - huh? - You're not playing properly. Start again. — Stone — castle — turret — bonnet - baby — squall — storm — cloud — static - coat — fur — teeth — bite - Bitey - Brackenwood — Sarus — codes — cryptography — enigma — mystery — purple — cloak — forest - *drifts off in happy dream&* - Wake up! Camera — snapshot — moment — time — clock — tick — paralysis — PRZ CURE (from Pokemon) — electric — zap — smell of scorched hair — Play properly! — Sorry. Hay — summer — ocean — crash — smash — smoosh — bug — antennae — satellite — beam — light — photosynthesis — oxygen — eight.
07/29 Direct Link
Bird words: beak feather keel claw wing wishbone flap fly flutter air soar glide take-off landing swoop turn bomb lorikeet squawk shriek warble sing cheep squeak primary secondary barbs barbules shaft quill crest fan tail lyre gull pelican sparrow swallow hawk owl thrush magpie crow aviary avis ornithologist roost perch cage bower nest eggs shell chick hatch lay hunt peck game chicken roast fowl kingfisher osprey penguin puffin dive wheel parrot mimic down plumage species family class order scratch cluck wattle cassowary raptor eagle kestrel falcon hollow robin finch honeyeater flock murder migration cuckoo grub worm bill toucan cockatoo rosella.
07/30 Direct Link
Three of our best known landmarks are Mt Dromedary, Little Dromedary and Montague Island. Before Europeans came, Dromedary was Gulaga, Little Drom was Nadginooka and Montague was Barranguba. They were all sacred places. This is their story. Gulaga had two sons, Barranguba and Nadginooka. Barranguba wanted to go down to the beach and Nadginooka followed. Gulaga told them not to go too far. Nadginooka stayed close to her, but Barranguba was older and headstrong and didn't want to listen. He went so far out that when the tide came in he was stranded out to sea and remains there today.
07/31 Direct Link
Thirty-one entries, three thousand and five words and it's been interesting, to say the least. Infuriating, demanding, but interesting. Looking forward to a month without it. Now I'll do the weasely cowardy thing and put a disclaimer at the end: Views, emotions and situations expressed in these entries are not necessarily straight from the author. Many are the product of creative license and imagined situations between fictional characters.
Mostly I'm feeling at embarrassed at the thought of people who know me reading my entries and thinking I'm the person they portray me as. Now what does that say about me?