Neon Lights - Scene Sketch

Man: Hey...hey come here?
XXX doesn't move.
Man: Hey, I'm talking to you.
XXX: What?
Man: Are you an asshole or an animal?
XXX doesn't answer.
Man: You got anything in that pretty head of yours. Come on.
XXX: Do I look like an asshole to you?
Man: I was only joking man.
XXX: Didn't sound to funny to me.
Man: You want to hear a good joke, come to mine. I'll make you laugh.
XXX doesn't move.
XXX: Fuck this
Walks off.
Man: Ok sorry man wait hold on.
He pulls out a wad of cash from his wallet.
XXX looks a him with disgust.
Man: That not enough for you playboy? Here, take it!
XXX: I don't do guys.
Man: Whatdya mean you don't do guys? You sluts probably do dogs if the moneys right.
XXX starts angrily towards the Man.
XXX: Call me a slut again.
XXX punches the Man in the face knocking him to the ground and kicks him in the stomach.
XXX: I'll do you in a minute.
Kicks him again.
XXX: Doing you right now...you like that!
Kicks him again.
XXX:You like that!
Kicks him again.
XXX: You like that!!
XXX spits on the battered Man.
XXX: That ones for free...come back tomorrow.
He walks off.
XXX: Asshole.

Collection 48twenty - Improvisational Poetry #2

Freestyle Poem - Process

Reality’s touch,

Lost at sea,

Nothing to see,

Mind goes quiet,

And the canvas goes blank,

I’ve blocked you out,

I cannot create,

Darkness succumbs,

The numbing wait,

Ticking,

Of a clock,

Of a heart,

Time is of the essence,

It’s present,

Presenting you with a future,

The numbing wait,

For your past to catch up,

Pen to paper from past to future,

Engraved and entwined,

The reaction of life,

The struggle.

Collection 48twenty - Improvisational Poetry #1

Freestyle Poem – A Lost Touch

Everything is moving forward,

Quiet cries left behind,

A shadow of the past,

Blinded by the light,

This cold empty house,

Was my warm magic world,

My cold lonely heart,

Now struggles to be heard,

Small speck,

A spectacle,

A nervous fossil,

Worthy of a memory but not worth remembering,

Luscious leeching of a land lost to love,

A bent soul,

Hell bent on cheating,

A crow’s happy cry,

Warm to its kind,

But when a man takes flight,

Only his quiet cries are left behind. 

My Mind suspects a lacking of Human Desire

As a less commercial blog and a more personal one, I feel like I am rejecting this blog, replacing it with my aBLoFilms one, thus I have developed an inexcusable approach to my writing fretting to relate to an audience, whereas my previous dwellings made little sense as I was the spectator, my own stream of consciousness, unconsciously lulling the isolate web world - A diary of sorts.


Now cometh the end of my my first university year, I will commit a slight increase of productivity channelling the bravery in creativity and hopefully come up with even more literal deciphering and wondering. Soon I will return to my Realm of Knowing in the hope that it won't be boring but somewhat illuminating.

Many monologues and poems to pursue, many characteristics to uncover, to discover and embody. A new era, a case study and another modest outlook as I take a somewhat different view into the realms of nothing.


Goodnight.  

@AdamBloom93

Do Nothing

Do Nothing

Do Nothing

Say Something

Say something

What,

Lock, stock and two smoking barrels,

Gun to your head,

What you sayin now,

I’m the almighty,

Preach to me,

Plead guilty,

Hear the bullet whispering,

While you shout KILL ME,

I enjoy your suffering,

I aim to cause pain,

Who knows if im bluffing,

Who knows if I’m sane,

Gun pressed to your brain,

Bitch I don’t want your money,

I want you to go away, see life how it’s meant to be,

Live for free,

Fuck the system,

Go on a killing spree,

If you want to leave,

I wanna see some tears,

Tell me how much you love your wife,

How you’ll miss your kids,

Coz when I’m done with this,

You’ll remember this day,

The day you changed your ways,

When a man came along and put a gun to your brain,

You begged for mercy,

But he looked on with cold dead eyes,

And he asked you, if you treasured you life,

He smacked you about,

You knew he was right,

Coz when you looked in the mirror,

Even your reflection shied away,

Coz it knew you were too pussy to come face to face,

With your daily problems,

Spittin in your face,

Like you were born and bred to fade away,

A disgrace,

I’m fed up of witnessing this fall from grace,

Time to step up,

Punch the shit out of this fucking waste

I stand above you,

I am Lucifer,

Fallen Angel,

Embrace the darkness,

Become the devil,

Let evil prevail,

Go on,

Fight,

Be a man,

Hands on the ground,

On your knees,

Prepare for slaughter,

You pathetic sack of shit,

Fuck it I’ll pull the trigger,

Be done with it,

No! Fuck you!

I am more than a man,

No more being fucked over,

Pissed on, bending over,

For bread and water,

From now on I do what I want,

So I let him up off his knees,

And I put the gun in his hand,

And then I gave him the bullets,

He looked at me for a moment,

But he understood my plan,

It was just a test,

But it had come into effect,

His eyes were mad,

His mission was set,

Do Nothing

Do Nothing

Say Something

Say something

What,

Blinded with anger,

Pistol in his right hand,

A voice in his head whispirin you’re the man,

He steps out of his old green Volvo,

An average car for a guy who’s given up,

But he’s different, changed,

Opens the front gate,

Hair swept across his cold sweaty face,

Eyes glazed over,

All scruffed up,

Jacket hanging from his shoulders,

It’s nearly over,

Opens the front door,

Hesitates for a moment,

And in that moment he sees me,

He needs me,

So I lead him onwards,

No one can see me,

Upstairs in the cold dead of night,

He hears a faint moan,

It sounds just like his wife,

I hold the door open as he bursts right in,

Two figures beneath the covers,

Which one is him,

Fuck it,

He fires once,

The creaking stops,

The moans turn to screams,

He fires another shot,

Bullets tear through the bed,

The pillows turn red,

Watching with cold eyes,

I tell him to fire again,

In the moment of silence,

Death screams,

Violence gleams in the eyes of the mad man,

With the gun still in his hand,

He unsticks the covers,

And discovers to his horror,

The entwined naked bodies of two lovers,

The female form deformed beyond recognition,

The man yells out as he grabs hold of the blood soaked body,

Of his 15 year old daughter,

His heart pumping,

Alone in the house of slaughter,

He screams out covered in blood,

Runs towards me,

But the gun is in my hand,

I stand above him,

I tell him he’s won,

But he stands there confused as he sees a crack running through me,

We are face to face,

And I take this opportunity,

To deliver the final hand,

I show him my cards,

We are one,

Look into the mirror,

Your reflection shied away,

Your sanity died today,

As you looked through the cracks,
It’s me staring back,

It’s me breaking through,

This is your doing,

Nobody did it for you,

I am you,

Don’t try and shoot,

He looks up again sees himself in the broken mirror,

To the left he sees the bed where he killed his sons elder sister,

I tell him he’s a winner,

You showed them you’re stronger than ever,

He tells me to go away,

But we are better together,

He puts the gun in my mouth,

He has no choice,

The voices will stop,

He’s on his knees,

Look at you,

De-ja-vu,

I’m the almighty,

Preach to me,

Plead guilty,

Any last words,

Daddy?

BANG

He fires,

The bullet tears through the back of his skull,

The voices stop and all goes quiet,

A small boy cries as he stands by the door,

As blood gushes down to the floor at his feet,

Falling tears,

The man never got say how much he loved his wife,

How he’ll miss his kids.

We Stand There...(monologue)

We stand there, hopeless. In a time of great need. We wait for things to come to us, to make our own. We want to belong, to go to great lengths to be accepted. Rigid, as the rush of life streams past you, you turn round and it’s too late, a speck…a tiny speck in the distance. You call after it, nothing but the echo of your own voice. You are alone, alone with your thoughts; a dangerous road where you realise, life is not an obstacle, but a journey. You’ve been told this before, but you find logic in it. Life is a train journey, you have to take it, you can’t miss the train otherwise you fall behind. You wait forever for your stop and you’ll never know if it’s what you’re looking for, if you don’t take that train. But who is to say there is no life beyond the living, the before and after of the now is always present. Our journeys change everyday; everyday we take a new path, make mistakes and get everything horribly wrong. Is it regret or is it nostalgia. Do you wish you did it differently? Do we get another chance? These are questions we all have and these questions will probably never be answered. Every life is unfulfilled in some shape or form, so we have to choose a path. We have to have a goal…a dream. I have a dream, of course I do. If I didn’t, what am I doing here? I think about it every day, and everyday I’m worried I will never make it, that I am on the verge of failing, that I have chosen the wrong path…gotten off the wrong stop. There is no wrong stop. It’s either yours or it isn’t. You make it yours when the time comes…is it regret or is nostalgia. 25/02/12 - 03:09am

A Personal Study of Character and Capabilty

The dynamics and potential of ones personality is relevant to the craft of which they perceive. I am a shy and quiet person on my outer shell, it’s not unusual, but it can come across disengaged and unfriendly, but get to know me and understand my character my true colours and vibrant, quirky personality come into play. As an actor people make the mistake that if you are not a particular loud personality or a confident character you are deemed less capable of putting yourself out there, be it theatre, film or any given social situation. But I have come across more than once and agree with a case that the reserved person is a thinking-man, alert and aware, constantly adapting mentally. That’s where I fit in. An observer. I observe and I create, my reserved personality benefits me in a way that I can fully embody a character, rather than the more common fault of having ones overly large personality break into their performance. 
I like to think I pre-engage, calculative but thankfully, not sinister. There’s a saying that it is the quiet ones that are the most dangerous. That is a useful study into character and personality and taking a further analytical insight, it is the quiet ones that are the ones to watch. Someone who is a challenge to read is always more interesting than someone who encompasses the formulaic convention offering you their integrity on a stick. Confidence can come across as arrogance, it is difficult for someone who is shy to come across arrogant, but some who is calculative can also strike that border. I am myself, by no means in those categories. If I were, I wouldn't be writing this, I would be throwing it in your faces up close and personal. The depth of this study wouldn't surprise you and your questions wouldn't need answering.  
The thinking-man has more potential to develop and grow, soaking in fellow intelligence around him, the ‘other’ man spews out his personality around him and his consumption is limited. The quiet ones are the ones to watch. 11/02/12 – 12:55pm