http://slow.writerscafe.org/freelancejouster The original writings of author freelancejouster en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776004814 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/1043008/ were i to ever stop and pause(and the goosebumps come already,coating my bare legs,tracing the outline of my finally tanned shouldersa poor reactionto internal cold)i think that i should want to make a change.a change the way i regard and portray those around me,a change in the way-(and my hands sta.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/978731/        how small my voice seems,sometimes. how little my impactupon the uncaring masses. how loud must i scream to be heard above the din?      how loud must anyone?  &n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/972491/     occasionally, a morbid feelingpermeates and overcomeseventually sapping at life forces untilyou're forced to take a mental-healthy-day,which you sleep away without a second thought.  and then,upon recovering from the awfuland uncha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/972488/    incuribility, what a mouthfulwhat a sorry state to place your life in. i've heard that we only get one,life, that is,at least once,i'm sure, in a song or something,especially lately. and there's just an achethat i feel,and somewhere inside,cl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/972469/     on occasion, i feel that perhaps this is all pointlessand if i move from where i precariously sitday after day, week after week (year after year?)something incredible might just happen, but i haven't the energy or ideahow to start to move from this sh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/969591/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/969039/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/969038/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/969036/ i could feel it in my powder-white bones,bleached by sun and circumstance,that things could not get much worse from here. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/965190/ what a pleasure to make the acquaintance of someonewho i didn't think--realize?--was important until this minute.you go along and talk to themabout odd thingsand piss and moan about odder things stilland somehow end up getting hit in the face with a salmonor some equally inedible, well-done, previou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/965188/ you've seen them,we all have, i'm sure,those peoplewho won't admit to being hipsterswho are so obsessed with beingdifferent, unique, individualthat they never stop to pauseand look at what they'redoing, wearing, listening toand never have time tounderstandthat holy f**k that's ugly. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/964184/ that stagnant feelof too many ideas and not enough time,that over powers so much soand lords over youwith a chip-toothed smile.oppressive,in such a way,that you don't much care to do anything,anyway. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/961983/ i think it might be terror.there isn't another reason my heart beats faster near her,i'm sure of it,for she's done so much evil and so much wrongthat perhaps her mere proximity is a reminder of itand that's why my pulse races and i feelstupid and slow and fat.i think it might be terror.that which ca.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/961095/ I.facts based uponopinions of othersand only ever offered upwithout another's promptit's not as if she'sshort on other's informationeitherII.too busy for thissmall town and alwaysrunning fromschool to college to jobfrugal to the pointof rotting greenpennies in her pockettoo busy to live,really.III.c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/959609/ hindered only by psychological creaturesand an annoying conscience with a bad attitudeshe watched the rocks crumble around her feetwith something like bemusement and adrug-addled smile upon her translucent face.she knew, were she in a lesser state of mindthat she might just be temptedto traverse the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/952122/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/946622/       often times, i would look out the window and something would seem to have moved, though almost imperceptibly or just with the wind or movement of the sun, and i couldn't tell people of the terror i felt upon knowing that something had moved ou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/946618/ i had always itched at the sight of snailsand slugsand most everything else on the ground,fearing them so creepy and crawly thatall else ceased to matterwhile escaping from themwhen suddenly,j'aime chocolat et chouquetteset meme escargot!au boucoup de cuisine de francais! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/946616/        something of a glint in his eye,grease for hairandcheese for a smile. swagger for a walk,strut, preen.  Narcissus was less into himself.at least,probably. and of course,he preys on girlswith cli.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/946612/       he spends all day in the fieldsand would probably spend all nightat one with the horses and the hillsand the openness of the space. he comes in dirty, sweaty, grungyand coated in horse-hairthough i couldn't tell you how,i, myself, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/941909/        "a delight"they said,and by "they" no one really knows,but it sounds good,and we tire of normal food,so "a delight" sounded wonderful. you see,we'd tasted criadillas when we visited Spainand sampled casu marzu in Venice... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/939458/      dry hands tap black keys for the fifty-sixth day in a row,editing word by word, space by space, pixel by pixel,for the perfection that needs be acheived. gasp.  hope.  scan.  smile.  split-second of self-indulcence.  print.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/938235/       technicolor pegs peep through,stuck into a weathered wooden plank,meant to be hit repeatedly, incessantly a dozen, or a hundred, characterspoured onto the floorto be neglected until someone triesto gather them back up and&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/937293/ wrote a bunch of nonsenseand about three different versions of one story.hated it all.deleted it all.posted this instead. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/937198/ i have this aching feelingthat i'll spend a great portion of my adult life,curled in an uncomfortable chairin front of a computer screenscrolling through page after pointless pageof meaningless informationand cliched picturessearching for something that i've probablyaccidentally scrolled past alread.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/936474/      knees locked, duck-footed,slack-jawed, nose turned skyward,gazing with dismayat the two ton giant who, previously, had been meandering about the countryside,minding his own damn businessuntil someone decided to ram into his footwith one of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/933114/     leathered, melanomic skin and corn floss hair,dirt encrusted clothingsave the immpecable fool's gold cross strung 'round her neck. a kindly nature and working hands,and a penchant for smoothing things over.  her patience t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/929605/      those split-second momentswhen sharp situations lose their harsh edgesand black and white fade to gray. a sense of calm overwhelmsand enfolds,infusing the air with opportunityand those soft thoughts that prompt onwardmurmuring of life.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/924890/       beautiful,the roses were,i bent into them again,burying myself and inhaling their musky scent,soft and murmering of a future,melted with the smells of new snowand cocoa that seemed to surround this day. it was perfect. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/921854/       and he bowed far too lowso that the brim of his hatbrushed the swept dirt of the floor;his grin was something else,a cross between insanity and a leer. to let this garish manof valiant effortsand gaudy effectsinto my soft li.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/843772/      understand me, young lass,that you've no reason to be angry,i must say that that frown upon yourpretty little face makes you look a little mangy. it's just a little gamethat makes the players rather ruddy,jumping round and two-and-froand g.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/834148/        an undefined momentof hazed edged and razed expectationbalances dewlike upon the edges of change.  to leap where one has already leptis quite easily completed,thoughtlessly, many have done just that,but, the action amo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/829540/       penis      http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/829537/ does she see it?miniscule girl,floating like a dream,a whisper, a whim, a wash of whimsy,courage in her heartand laughter on her tongue.brush of gossamer wingto plump toddler armemits a shrieking squeal of glee.daylight fades to twilight,passing in and outof golden hourwith the drift of cloud and sh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/822159/ i can feel it stirring,caressing edges and prodding walls,looking for a crack or crumbleto grasp hold of.he can feel it growing,arching its neckwith an angry creek and groantaking hold and tearing its fragile boundaries.they're growing,within,those creatures.those voices you silencewhen they become .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/820376/ enfolded in a haze,images blurand outlines condense,all is serene.where there were edges,before,now lay melted puddlesand soggy tranquility.he's flying,floating,drifting,right over those fluffy cloudsand other insubstantial softnessover that rumbling roarof a glittering waterfall.were there somethin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/819350/ events condenseand build,what were once droplets of moisturehave become a heat-seeking missileof a storm.and we're all heat. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/816514/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/813117/ Gregory Evanski's health was dwindling sooner than he had expected it to.  His hair was thinning at an alarming rate, his back was more stooped every day, and those infernal liver spots were sprouting up again.  He had brought out the cane from storage years ago for good measure, but he wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/813051/ a plea,placed gracefullyby paper hands,set upon the ground likeglass bowlsor those sugar skullsthat come aroundabout twice a year.she knit it meticulously,crafting every wordaround her flowered mouthlike her fatherwrings shine from ironand blood from facesin the dungeon,or, well, didbefore he joined.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/810697/ exotic beauty,flaming hair,a glint of steel blue eyes.don't approachfor redhead syndromesburn all who touch,eye contact causes fleeingor a physical, brutal reaction. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/809752/ Sitting around the dinner table after another somewhatquestionable Sunday supper, your mother brings up the subject of school. “Oh, Friday was a wonderful day,” you answer sarcastically.  “Thesnake escaped in Chemistry and somehow ended up stashed with our lab&rsq.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/809176/ arms flying in a frenzy,paint splattering where it may,a scream and a crygarble togetherand mingle and mix freely,a glint of something... questionable,and the yell of raw fury.the world seems so emptywhen it pulls back from this room,so unique 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that old.she calls it organic,though they're bleachedwith more thingsthan flour and white bread--which she doesn't anymorebecause she's decide.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/802798/ the monday after homecoming,names of seniors still scrawled uponthe sweeping front doors,dried salt clings to your cheekand you reach out a small handto brush a certain name,your smudges adding to the layers of themall from today.opening the heavy doors,you join the masses of grief,the silence is de.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/800922/ i asked him a question,and a river of syllables flow from his mouth,words encased in a toddler's babble,wide eyes delighted in telling me a story,sticky hands gesturing around him.i stare at him with a waning smile upon my face,i'm supposed to take notes on this, how? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/798010/ "i hate everything!"her cry echoes through the houseagainst the slam of the door,the windows shake from the forceand her angry footstepsas she throws off her jacketand kicks off her boots.I'm in here sweetheart.i say it lazily, softly,and it drifts to her.she continues to stompand kick and pout,clea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/freelancejouster/796867/