She was short of breath as it was unbearable, irrational, insanity towards the current situation. Idiotic more than anything, really. Such a strange scent had managed to give her emotional unstability. A black suit, made out of the best of all the best material one could ever ask for. It was hanging on him, in a perfect manner that is. She was mesmerized more than anything. It was like a gentle hypnosis to her. This has been happening to her every morning, starts around the hour of eight in the morning. If only he knew, knew about how he fascinates her. She was just a clerk, in other words nothing when compared to him as he was the leader, the boss. He gets all her attention from the point that he sets his foot out of the car. His black leather shoes shining, reflecting the sunlight. She tries her best to impress him by wearing lovely makeup at just the right amount to make her stand out from the crowd. Sometimes, she makes him great morning coffee. All the while, her effort was left unnoticed till one day, she tripped in front of him. All the perfection turned into a big misunderstanding, in which we may call an embarassing moment. The other workers were laughing their socks off but he, the goddess gave her his hand and pulled her up. From that day on, he started talking to her, realising her beauty and not forgetting her personality that serves up to perfection everytime. They were drowning in love and compassion. Her wish came true. It was a wish that was made when a star shot off from the sky. He had been her one and only wish since she first laid her green eyes on him. The impossible evolved into reality.
Not based on a true story, just my random imagination.
Written by,
Juria Hartmans
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Fictitious
Again, a very random one.
Those hazel eyes carried some sort of meaning, a meaning that caught my interest. The meaning was hidden, one that never would I ever be able to know. Curiosity was the one thing that I wasnt lacking. Even with that existing, the meaning was still the boss of our "hide and seek" game. Those long lashes didnt give that much of hints instead they acted as a distraction. To ignore them was completely impossible. Fringe, covering his forehead as he was full of sweat. Every man condemned deep jealousy for him for he was insanity towards mankind, in terms of beauty that is. Lips as red as fresh blood. Sweat was trickling down his neck directly to his hard as rock chest. This wonderful discription gave me frustration as he was pure imaginary.
Written by,
Juria Hartmans
Those hazel eyes carried some sort of meaning, a meaning that caught my interest. The meaning was hidden, one that never would I ever be able to know. Curiosity was the one thing that I wasnt lacking. Even with that existing, the meaning was still the boss of our "hide and seek" game. Those long lashes didnt give that much of hints instead they acted as a distraction. To ignore them was completely impossible. Fringe, covering his forehead as he was full of sweat. Every man condemned deep jealousy for him for he was insanity towards mankind, in terms of beauty that is. Lips as red as fresh blood. Sweat was trickling down his neck directly to his hard as rock chest. This wonderful discription gave me frustration as he was pure imaginary.
Written by,
Juria Hartmans
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Fiction - the next continuation
Never have I seen such a beautiful yet ugly person. He smiled in a way that melted my heart.
"It is more insinuative if we head to my place so that I could get you something to munch on, I'm sure you're starving."
I just nodded in agreement without even thinking before making my decision. My mind was blank, he was just too astonishing. My eyelids couldn’t blink for time would be wasted if I had lost focus on him. I was still sitting on the beautiful body of the jungle with my body feeling awfully weak, weak in a good way that is. He offered his hand to help me get back on my feet and without any question; I grabbed it with all the energy left in my body. I would never want to waste that rare chance of touching his hand. He pulled me up and we started walking with a pace that was slower than a turtle’s movement. The awkward feeling was floating itself around on air. The atmosphere was too quiet that I had to spill a word or two.
“Do you stay here all by yourself?”
“Err yeah, I guess you could say so.”
I couldn’t produce anymore questions for the only thing that was on my mind was how gorgeous he is. He had taken away my professional skills at creating conversations with acquaintances. I used to be well known for that back when I was living my perfect yet depressing life. Time flew swiftly and there we were, at our desired destination. His hut was made out of wood that seemed to look as if it was aging really bad. My guess was that it was built centuries ago. It was the ugliest hut that I have ever laid eyes on. He opened the door that was by a few inches taller than he is and invited me in. His hut was nothing but cozy and decoratively furnished. That taught me to never judge a book by its cover. Quickly I was asked to sit by the dining table that only allowed two persons. He went to the kitchen and brought me some food. He served it on the table and took the only sit left. Due to the hunger I felt, I started eating vigorously that I made him chuckle. I was so embarrassed that I felt the blood rushing to my face, making me blush. I stopped eating and saw a glimpse of guilt on his face.
“I’m sorry”, he said.
“No, it’s not your fault, I just lost my appetite”.
“It is my fault, I shouldn’t have hovered and chuckled at you eating”.
“It has nothing to do with you, it’s just…”
BANG! There was a loud sound on the door. I jumped in shock. He had asked me to go under the table and not to make a single sound. He grabbed his sniper and slowly took a few steps towards the door. He then grabbed the door knob and twisted it carefully so that he could open the door without making that much of noise. As soon as the door was opened, a strong wind pushed the door really hard that produced a crack onto it. He had to bend his body so that he could gather the right amount of gravity needed for stabilization. There I saw a creature, as dark as ebony flying its way through. It was heading in Nick’s direction and my heart was pounding. I was afraid of the possibilities of Nick facing his death. From that statement, I could say that I had some weird feelings towards him. As he tried to pull the trigger….
To be continued..
Written by,
Juria Hartmans
Thursday, April 16, 2009
The Ravenous Workaholic
Alright, so I was flipping through the dictionary and decided to randomly choose two not so common words as stated in the title of this story. So here goes....
Monday, Monday, Monday, some just despise Monday. They say dreadful torture begins, where great pleasure ends, rainbows turn into ebony. It may sound like a heavy accusation towards Monday from the perspective of a positive minded person but extremely normal to people like him. Working could be practically said to be his life. As his eyelids open in the A.M., he freshens up and off to work he goes. Hops into his wrecked vehicle and speeds up to 40 miles per hour. When he reaches his destination, he shoots off to his office or shall I say the postmortem department. He goes by the name of Tom Carter, the one and only who's in charge of the dead bodies. Everyday, he cuts them open to find out the cause of their death. At first, it was a terrible task but as time went by, he felt a wicked kind of pleasure to it. The smell of it satisfies him. Without another being's knowledge, he would take some of the organs and pack them home. He likes them being not so fresh and pathogens lying around. As soon as he reaches his filthy home, a place where no one would possible want to enter, vigorously he starts enjoying his meal. Sometimes he fries them but most of the time, he prefers them boiled.
To be continued...
Written by,
Juria Hartmans
Monday, Monday, Monday, some just despise Monday. They say dreadful torture begins, where great pleasure ends, rainbows turn into ebony. It may sound like a heavy accusation towards Monday from the perspective of a positive minded person but extremely normal to people like him. Working could be practically said to be his life. As his eyelids open in the A.M., he freshens up and off to work he goes. Hops into his wrecked vehicle and speeds up to 40 miles per hour. When he reaches his destination, he shoots off to his office or shall I say the postmortem department. He goes by the name of Tom Carter, the one and only who's in charge of the dead bodies. Everyday, he cuts them open to find out the cause of their death. At first, it was a terrible task but as time went by, he felt a wicked kind of pleasure to it. The smell of it satisfies him. Without another being's knowledge, he would take some of the organs and pack them home. He likes them being not so fresh and pathogens lying around. As soon as he reaches his filthy home, a place where no one would possible want to enter, vigorously he starts enjoying his meal. Sometimes he fries them but most of the time, he prefers them boiled.
To be continued...
Written by,
Juria Hartmans
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Farewell My Love
The sunset glowing with it's natural beauty,
I had observed as I was balancing myself on this rotten wooden bridge,
My opinion says that it was built last century,
My arms were stretched 180 degrees seeking for balance,
Gracefully the sky and I made eye contact,
It had orange and light blue painted on it,
Soon after, I realised that it was the most beautiful time of day,
It goes by the name of sunset,
It gave me peace and tranquility,
My only wish was to be on an island with him,
Not long after, I felt a triggering rush in my veins,
I was at last happy,
The next second, tears started rolling down my cheeks,
Should I have only noticed that I hadn't a lover,
No one to share a mat with on the beach,
No kiss to taste,
No breath to smell,
All I had was a picture, an empty picture that shared a million words,
The picture had an insane glow to it,
Due to my unconciousness towards reality, the picture flew away from the palm of my hands,
All good things do come to an end.
My bad attempt at poetry, doesnt look like a poem at all.
I had observed as I was balancing myself on this rotten wooden bridge,
My opinion says that it was built last century,
My arms were stretched 180 degrees seeking for balance,
Gracefully the sky and I made eye contact,
It had orange and light blue painted on it,
Soon after, I realised that it was the most beautiful time of day,
It goes by the name of sunset,
It gave me peace and tranquility,
My only wish was to be on an island with him,
Not long after, I felt a triggering rush in my veins,
I was at last happy,
The next second, tears started rolling down my cheeks,
Should I have only noticed that I hadn't a lover,
No one to share a mat with on the beach,
No kiss to taste,
No breath to smell,
All I had was a picture, an empty picture that shared a million words,
The picture had an insane glow to it,
Due to my unconciousness towards reality, the picture flew away from the palm of my hands,
All good things do come to an end.
My bad attempt at poetry, doesnt look like a poem at all.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Eardrums and Alarm Clocks
This would be plain bullshit but fun. Reason is because I'm just writing whatever that comes to mind.
As I was walking through the halls of that particular building, I felt the strong and rude wind in my hair, blowing with a bad temper. Weighing 45 kilograms didnt give much help in balancing. My body was bent, trying to gather as much gravity as I could so that I wouldn't fly off like a piece of paper. Why was the wind so angry?, I wondered. The possible answer to that question ran through my brain. Maybe it's because that building was actually a hospital that was built centuries ago, many have been there and not gone out. Maybe their souls didn't leave peacefully. Maybe it was the spirits that gave me a hard time walking. My eyes were barely open. It was insanity. The wind got stronger, so I held on to the nearby pillar. My left leg was nearly lifted. Maybe He wanted me to follow the spirits home. Stupid thoughts came to mind. The wind was getting even more powerful. I decided to let go of the pillar and let the wind have some fun, I bet it doesn't get that much of entertainment. Once in a bluemoon would be fine, in my opinion. As my fingers slipped, my head had hit on something hard and I had discovered a new weird irritating sound that was killing my eardrums. Killing my eardrums? I repeated the word killing, maybe, just maybe, I was already dead. My body moved in a weird manner, my hand was rising up and touched a solid vibrating object. In a split second, I realised that it was all just a dream and discovered that the vibrating object was actually my alarm clock doing it's job.
Just so you readers know, this is not really my dream. I just created it on the spot to test how spontaneous I could be :)
Written by,
Juria Hartmans
As I was walking through the halls of that particular building, I felt the strong and rude wind in my hair, blowing with a bad temper. Weighing 45 kilograms didnt give much help in balancing. My body was bent, trying to gather as much gravity as I could so that I wouldn't fly off like a piece of paper. Why was the wind so angry?, I wondered. The possible answer to that question ran through my brain. Maybe it's because that building was actually a hospital that was built centuries ago, many have been there and not gone out. Maybe their souls didn't leave peacefully. Maybe it was the spirits that gave me a hard time walking. My eyes were barely open. It was insanity. The wind got stronger, so I held on to the nearby pillar. My left leg was nearly lifted. Maybe He wanted me to follow the spirits home. Stupid thoughts came to mind. The wind was getting even more powerful. I decided to let go of the pillar and let the wind have some fun, I bet it doesn't get that much of entertainment. Once in a bluemoon would be fine, in my opinion. As my fingers slipped, my head had hit on something hard and I had discovered a new weird irritating sound that was killing my eardrums. Killing my eardrums? I repeated the word killing, maybe, just maybe, I was already dead. My body moved in a weird manner, my hand was rising up and touched a solid vibrating object. In a split second, I realised that it was all just a dream and discovered that the vibrating object was actually my alarm clock doing it's job.
Just so you readers know, this is not really my dream. I just created it on the spot to test how spontaneous I could be :)
Written by,
Juria Hartmans
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
6.58 P.M.
A slight glimpse of happiness was all I demanded. Salty droplets of water ran down my cheek and soon after, I realised that they were my own tears. Philosophy caught me as it made me think that millions of others are celebrating their achievements with joy or maybe just sharing laughters with each other. Some might just be losing their first kiss to their soulmate. God knows how bad I want to be in their shoes. However, I actually have a friend who feels just about the same way. He goes by the name of cloud. He was pouring tears all over the city. The only difference between him and I was that he was a non-living thing. He had no soul. All I was craving for was a friend to talk to but unfortunately no one wanted to lend their ears or their shoulder. I was cracking under pressure just like a pressure cooker putting effort to soften the meat on the kitchen stove.
Written by,
Juria Hartmans
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