Dear God: Please save me from your followers.......

This week my for the Indie Ink writing challenge came from Katri.

My challenge this week was simply "be inspired by this," and this link to a you tube video:

I have to be honest with you. I made a valiant effort to complete this challenge to the best of my ability, as I do every week. I listened to the song more times than I care to remember. I looked up the lyrics, because I couldn't understand them. I then re-listened to the video multiple times while reading the lyrics  I emailed the link to my best friend and had my mother listen to it, because for the life of me I could not figure out the meaning of this song, or the story that it was attempting to tell me. After a few hours of working at this, and talking with my consultants, this is what this link has inspired me to say.

First, I was immediately turned off by the fact that the "video" is not a video at all. It is merely a picture with a song playing behind it. If I am watching a video, I expect to see just that- a video. I do not expect to see a still picture, in which I can't decipher what the picture is, with a song playing in the background.

Second, I must have listened to this song at least 20 times trying to somehow conclude what the meaning of it was. I was really trying to live up to my expectations in this challenge. After listening to it that many times, I feel completely confident in saying I would love to have that hour and ten minutes of my life back. I found this song really painful to listen to, and almnost hard to classify as a song. I feel like everyone is entitled to their artistic opinion and expression, so I can't bring myself to invalidate it any more than this. I also know that my mind has an open door policy when it comes to any kind of artistic expression, espescially music. I feel this strongly that this song was hard to qualify as a song. My panel off consulatants found it even more unbearable than I did. This makes me doubt it's validity as qualifying it as music.

Last, in my attempt to really try to understand this song, I went on wickepedia to check out the group mewithoutyou. Apparently I was so caught up in trying to find the meaning in this song that other people expressed love and affection to, I missed this important fact. This group has a strong religious basis, as does their music. This is probably the reason that the meaning behind this song was entirely lost on me. My best friend had to point it out to me because I was meerly scanning for insight into this particular song. It's also possible that I am just impervious to anything with religious overtones of this nature. I feel justified in this opnion having attended a religious based school system for grades K-12. At this point in my life, I am agnostic by nature, and quite frankly most organized religion scares the crap out of me. I could ellaborate on this point for days, but I feel like you get the point. Over exgareting it would be unnecessary.

I am somewhat dissapointed and sad this week that this is what was inspired by this week challenge prompt.

The eighth day

This week for the Indie Ink writing challenge, my prompt came from Blackbird.

It is the eighth morning, and God rolls over and cracks an eye open at the day. He takes a long, hard stretch from his fingers to his toes. He is a bit sore from the hard work of the past week, but having taken the day before to rest, he feels refreshed and renewed. He throws back the covers, and his coffee maker beckons him. He fills it with water and fresh beans. The coffee maker comes alive with sounds of grinding beans and percolating water. The delicious aroma of coffee fills God's senses, and he as he pours himself a steaming cup, he admires himself for creating such an indulgent beverage. The coffee courses through him, and he is again grateful for the overwhelming sense of refreshment he feels from his well deserved day of rest. God pours himself a second cup, and ponders what he's going to do with the day.    
 

He mulls over all the work he accomplished during the prior week, and even he finds it slightly unbelievable. He thinks of the earth spinning beneath him. He thinks of the birds and sea life, the wild beasts, livestock, and reptiles that inhabit it. He thinks of the the sky, and of it's alter ego the moon. He thinks of the humans that he created in his image and likeness, and thinks that it is a pretty great likeness if  he does say so himself. Lastly, he thinks of the light with which the humans can see all of the wondrous things that he created over those six days. He inhales the delicious smells of the coffee once more, and exhales a sigh of relief that all of this hard work is behind him.

"What to do today?" he thinks. An idea comes to mind, and he is filled with excitement. He deserves a day of unabashed fun after all the work he's just put in. As he dials first Dave, and then Gabe, he is tingling with excitement. He tells the angels to come over at 2. He finishes his coffee, and begins preparing for their arrival. God fills a pitcher with water, then turns the water to beer, and puts the pitcher in the fridge to chill. He grabs 3 mugs, and puts them in the freezer to frost. Then, God makes a quick trip down to earth to gather a few things. He finds10 pins, 3 pairs of shoes, and a few different weight balls. He then ascends back above, and eagerly awaits his guests arrival.


Seeing as angels have a habit of being prompt, Dave and Gabe arrive exactly at 2. God takes the mugs out of the freezer, tops each one off with a frothy beer, and gives each of them a pair of shoes. God changes into a pair, instructing the confused pair to do the same. Shoes on feet, and beer in hand, he picks up a ball. The duo follows suit. They hadn't realized before, but in front of them down a long alley 10 pins are set up. God takes the ball, carries it up to the line at the end of the alley,  and aims. He knocks down 8 of the pins, and does a happy dance.  His ball suddenly appears in his hand, and he aims at the remaining to pins. He misses, and it's Dave's turn. As God had done, he takes the ball and walks up to the line at the end of the alley. He aims, and rolls the ball down towards the pins. All 10 pins fall to the ground!


Down below, the humans that inhabited the earth that God had created the week before stared at the sky in wonder. Though they had only been there for a short time, they had never heard a sound like the one they just heard coming from the sky. The thunder rumbled, and the ground shook slightly. The sky flashed bright, and with a crack they heard and saw a tremendous lightening bolt. It was the first that they had ever seen.

Remember on days like today when the sky grows dark and angry and when the lightening flashes bright and cracks down from above - it's the angels bowling! 

My challenge for the week was:

"An inspiration from Nietzsche: Describe God's boredom after the seventh day of creation."

Junior goes home

This is my fifth week writing for the Indie Ink writing challenge. This week my challenge came from Head Ant. I hope that you enjoy it.

Bump. Bump. I try with all my might to curl my body into the tightest ball possible in the corner of my crate. Bump. Thud. Judging by the loud bumping and thudding that is constant, the trailer that is housing is bravely fighting with the rough road as we drive along. My crate is lined with hay, which was taken with me from my kennel this morning. It smells familiar like my pack, and I try unsuccessfully to burrow myself into it for safety. Bump. Thud. Bump.

The trailer stops moving, and the doors open flooding us with light. A man walks in and we are all most definitely awake and all eyes are on the man. This man has come into the trailer before, and when he does I get to go out and walk around. I sniff at the air, which is growing crisper and crisper with each stop. I relieve myself, and stretch my legs a bit, and then he puts me back in my crate. He proceeds to do this with my forty other traveling companions. Twice the man has given me food. I like this man. He ruffles my fur, and talks softly to me. I wish I could stay with him instead of in my crate. I am barely able to contain my excitement while I wait for him to come to my crate. After my walk, he puts me back into the safety of my crate. As I listen to the noise from the other dogs, I begin re-arranging my hay. I begin to burrow in it in preaparation for when the truck starts to move.

Thump. Bang. Bump. The trailer plows forward over the road, bringing us closer and closer to our final destination. I don't know what that destination is, but I am more than ready to arrive there. The excitement of having all of the puppies in one space is purely electric. As much as I miss the familiar smells that invade my nose, I feel like I am going to explode with anticipation. 

Somehow, in the midst of all this banging and excitement my puppiness takes over and I fall asleep. the sounds of the trailer door being opened pull me out of my sleep. There is no more bumping or thudding, and the man walks for the doorway and takes the first puppy out of the trailer. I watch and wait for him to come and bring the puppy back to his crate, and hope that it will be my turn soon.

THE MAN COMES BACK WITHOUT THE PUPPY!!! That can mean only one thing... we have arrived. Oh my, oh my, oh my. Is it my turn. He goes and retrieves another puppy from his crate, walks outside, and once again returns without the puppy. I pace, and find myself whining a little bit. I am so excited at this point I think that I may just jump out of my skin from my insides being so excited. I pace and whine and pace and whine. Oh my, oh MY he's in front of my crate. He's opening the door, and he takes me in his arms. Where are we going I wonder? I don't really care, because we are here. You know by all the noise from withing the trailer that the other puppies know it too. They are all whining and pacing and whining as the man carries me past their crates to my destination.

We step outside and I met by the coldest air that I have ever felt. The man holds me out, and I am taken into the warmest arms that I have ever felt. A sweater is slipped over my head, around my belly, and over my paws. Between the arms and the sweater I stop shaking fro the cold. A shiny red leather collar is placed around my neck. The owner of the arms that are enveloping me kisses the top of my head. She leans over and whispers in my ear "Hi Junior. I'm your Momma." At this moment, I know I am home.

 

My challenge this week was "In the adoption world, "Gotcha Day" is the day when the adopted parties are placed in their forever families' arms.
 Write about Junior's Gotcha Day from his point of view."