Entries for online writing competition

typing

Entry 1

I have seen you do amazing things. I have seen so much greatness that you have forgotten. I have seen empires rise and fall, societies form and collapse. I look upon you all, I see the things you do and wish. I see you try and try again, only to be met with failure and ruin.

And yet you persist. Despite the apathy of the universe itself you have carved a place which you may flourish.

My eye is on you, on everyone and everything you know and will experience, I have already seen trillions of times before, and yet you persist. Learning and forgetting, discovering and burying both the past and present.

Time is an illusion that you have constructed to measure your existence. It is that dogged determination that blinds me at times, your radiance is beyond compare and yet you shirk from it, hide in the dark places of the world to try and hide from my sight.

You cannot, but I will allow you to believe you can.

For that itself is a form of solace, isolation cannot prompt growth but I will allow you to believe it does. I see all, I hear all, I know all.

You see yourself as a blight, a cancerous growth on the universe that must be expunged. This is simply untrue, you are a part of the universe as much as anything else and nothing in the world of the next or the one after that may change that fact.

You were supposed to be here, so I may observe you. You are alive, so I may know you. You will die, so I may care for you. Such is simply the way of things.

It hurts me that you hate yourself so much. That you hate your species so truly, when you are beautiful beyond comparison. Know that I know you, and you will never know me. But for your temporary time in this life, I cherish you and all that came before and all that will come after, for that is my purpose. You have no purpose, and it is within that notion that you have true freedom. True magnificent life.

You limit yourself with these thoughts of yours, that you are unworthy, that you are unlovable, that you are lesser. These things are simply untrue, and yet this very pattern has repeated so many times it truly boggles the mind.

You must know your worth, and your value. Even if you can never see it, I can. I know your worth, greater than any vault of meaningless trinkets. I know your value, greater than even the most magnificent of empires. Ultimately, as with all things in this twisted, subjective reality you find yourself in, it is merely a matter of perspective.

Entry 2

It depends which way you look at it

“Well my darling it depends which way you look at it” Marcie spoke with a touch of steel in her voice.

‘”Look at it, I am looking at it, and we can’t afford it.’ Leonard took a slow breath to calm himself.

Marcie continued, “it was on sale, I saved us money.’

‘Saved money? He questioned.

Yes I saved us money. I know how to be careful with money. That’s why I wait for the sales to buy the things we need” she answered

We need? He breathed quietly. A little louder he replied “We need? “

Marcie sighs, here we go again, she thought,

“Yes my darling, we need. You always tell me how proud you are to have me on your arm when we’re out. How lovely I look. Well trust me darling, adornments are needed. You’ve seen how previous adornments helped your prestige with our friends. Why Gloria said, only yesterday, what a wonderful, caring man you are, and good looking to boot”.

Leonard looked at her, he was torn between indignation and ego. He liked the persona their friends saw in him.

He replied to Marcie, “I wish you would try to see it my way, where I’m coming from. I handle the finances I know what we can and cannot afford. And by the look of this ‘adornment’ we cannot afford it. “

“Oh darling, don’t look at the short term cost, look at the long term investment. You taught me that. I can see your point of view and I’m working with it. I buy when the price is lower, like you do, only, I don’t sell when the price goes higher. I may sell later, if necessary, but I get to enjoy my stock while the price rises. Perhaps you need a rethink, a look from a different angle. “

Leonard spluttered, “Me see at a different angle. My job is totally different from what you’re doing, my job makes us money.”

Marcie went in with “And mine my darling, gives you prestige. It not only makes me look good, but it does the same for you.”

She knows his ego, she knows she’ll win, keep her adornment. She has no intention of giving it up.

The first time Marcie wore her new adornment, Leonard looked on with pride. Her dress matched perfectly. He was pretty sure that was also new, but when he had queried, her reply had been. “This old thing, had it for ages. “ He wasn’t sure.

Perhaps Marcie's ‘investments ‘were similar to his. Perhaps it was just a matter of how you looked at it.

Entry 3

The old ruins stand forlornly in the icy cold wind, with a murder of crows watching all that come and go.

I glance around, ‘their’ words ringing in my ears, “there is nothing to see out here”.

I guess it depends how you look at it.

For I cannot see there is nothing to see, quite frankly there is no place I would rather be.

I kick around in the red dirt looking at rust and dust, my heart beating fast. I stand staring at broken glass and beautiful relics from our past.

Imagining all that went before me, who lived in this spot? Plotting, planning and working hard until the sun went down and it was time to stop.

A cemetery long forgotten stands guard nearby and for those from the past I shed tears, although I tell myself not to cry.

“There is nothing to see out here”, echoes around my head.

It depends how you look at it I think, as I pay homage to those that are long since dead.

Leaving the ruins behind, I race across sunburnt plains.

Saltbush abounds and dust devils dance across my path, an emu or two cross the road in a hurry, all I can do is laugh.

Birds of prey hover in the blue outback sky, they are watching everything, including me, with eagle eyes.

Galahs balance on wires, the wild wind letting them know they are alive.

Statues of art balance on a hill in the wind, at sunset they made my heart sing.

Lizards sit on every tower when the timing is right, the sun warming their skin, just slow down, you'll see them, it’s a sight.

Is there really ‘nothing to see out here?’

Wildflowers and Sturt Desert peas caress the sides of the road, I stand still next to them in the eery silence thinking yes, this feels like home.

I see a creek running and I must catch it, knowing once it’s caught, it will become a memory forever more.

I look down at the parched, etched earth noticing patterns and tracks, the blazing sun beating down on me, it has me thanking my lucky stars for my mate……the Akubra, my hat.

I tip my hat as I enter town, stopping to look around, locals happy to chat, welcoming me with an Outback grin, it always makes me feel like ‘this is living’.

They look me in the eye, every time I say hi. People smile and wave and say g’day each day.

Nothing is too much trouble.

They say “Did you see the beautiful bush and the rain falling out there?”

I say “Sure did, there is definitely something to see, but that’s between you and me!”

There is always something to see out there, if you just take the time to stop, look and care.

It depends how you look at it!

Entry 4

“Aw hell, whattaya done now?”

“I can’t help it; it’s me back,” Tom protested.

“You’ve dropped it twice now. These things are worth a mint.”

“Yeah. Well, the prices sure are huge.”

“C'mon. It's our last job, help me stand it up,” Len urged.

The two men grasped the large canvas and staggered into the gallery, lowering it gratefully to the floor. They were just hanging the artwork when they heard the unmistakeable sound of Madame Director approaching.

Clack-clicketty- clack. High heels hit the hard, highly polished floor like bullets exploding from a gun. The two men flinched.

“You have not fin-eeshed,” Madame complained peevishly, frowning and flapping her hands. “Ze Board and ze reviewers will be here soon to start ze preview tour.” She hurried away.

“Ten minutes, Madame,” called Len. “We had a few hiccups.” He glared at Tom. The two men had just finished positioning the painting when they heard voices. Madame’s heels clattered a warning as she returned with her entourage.

She flapped a dismissive hand in their direction. They discreetly edged towards their nearest exit but found it was locked. Out of sight, they leant against the wall waiting for an opportunity to escape.

Madame was in her element, graciously explaining the provenance of each work in detail to her elegantly attired party. Some sipped champagne while others scribbled notes for their cultural columns in the morning papers.

Tom tugged at Len’s sleeve. “What now?” Len hissed, irritably.

“The painting,” said Tom, his head tilted to one side. “There’s something wrong.”

“Of course,” snapped Len. “It’s an abstract.”

“But…”

“And now,” said Madame, her voice sounding right behind them, “zis is our Piece de Resistance: La Forét des Démons Oranges.”

“Oh,” gasped the assembled throng in hushed tones. “The design, so original…colours, so spiritual yet demonic...such confrontational lines”

Len tapped his foot impatiently. The group moved away, eventually departing the gallery.

“Len..., “Tom began.

Len sighed. “Yes, Tom?” He articulated slowly.

“The painting, Len. Somehow…”

Len looked.

Oh, no. He saw it, too. They had hung it upside down.

They quickly moved to remedy their mistake before anyone else could witness it. Finally, standing back, they gazed at the artwork.

“I think I preferred it the other way,” said Tom, thoughtfully.

“Hmm,” said Len, “I agree. But," he added as they moved towards the main exit, “it depends on how you look at it. Either way, it’s a masterpiece. Right?”