Those are some fly colors honey. I went to Pro Mortgage and Quick Trip today. I just got home not that long ago. Not much is going on.
I did sign a closing disclosure with Pro Mortgage. Now on the 5th of July, I have to sign the final paperwork and the house is mine. I will finally have a home.
I got a bag of ice at the gas station. I have been writing again.
I'm not sure.
So anyway
blah blah blah and something interesting goes here.
The Stupid Little Brat
Or;
The golden girl
By;
Jessica Singleton
" You think you have seen the most terrible thing. The thing that coalesces all of your nightmares into a freakish horror that actually exist." - Stephen King from the Book Full Dark No Stars
" Deleterious - Harmful in an unexpected way. " - definition according to the dictionary
Part 1
or
The first bad event
This is real. I cannot wake up from this. It just lingers. The truth is so loud. No one can cover this up. I am sure there are a lot of people out there who have made a stitch in this quilt of wrongs.
But she smiles into her own reflection as she puts on another coat of makeup. She covers her face with an image that she only wishes that she could project.
Goldia was a brat from the day she was born. I do not not mean wild or child at heart. Goldia was nothing more then a pathetic excuse for an adult.
It was because no one ever told her no. She was just allowed to do whatever she wanted. The older she got, the worse she became. Until her silly behavior turned into a narcissistic example of the most obnoxious TWIT that anyone could have the misfortune of bumping into in life.
Goldia would purposely go out of her way to be a part of other people's lives each day. She would trip kids in parks and find a way to accidentally bump into old people.
It seemed to give her pleasure to do so.
Goldia lived in England. She had lived there for two years. Goldia was in college. She was a rich little twit that loved to spend other people's money.
That summer it was hot. Goldia got bored. She went into a coffee shop to get a cup of iced coffee and a cookie one day.
Goldia saw this tiny little old woman leaving with her bag of sweets. Goldia needed a kick. So she got up and she purposly accidentally knocked the old woman down.
In the due process of knocking the elderly woman down, Goldia stepped on the old woman's bag of cookies.
Then when that was not enough. Goldia made an issue out of the situation. Then she got so loud that the manager had to come over to where they were. Goldia made it out like the old woman attacked her because she was to blind to see where she was going. The manager made the old woman apologize to the blonde idiot girl.
The old woman was only confused at that point. Why would anyone think that it was her fault compared to this young woman?
The old woman had to re buy her cookies and then take the train home.
It is odd how people laugh at the elderly and prize the young just because they are pretty. The older woman was in pain on the way home. She had bruises all over her leg where that dumb girl accidentally kicked her on the way down.
The old woman cried silently on the way home.
2
Goldia wanted more action out that old woman. She had to find her. So she ask around the coffee shop about her. The manager knew the woman because she came in all the time to buy those cookies for her grandson.
He told Goldia that the old woman's name was Carroll BuckworthBack.
So Goldia looked up Carroll in the phone book.
Then Goldia drove out to look at Carroll's house.
The cottage house was grey brick and had a beautiful flower garden in the backyard.
Goldia looked into the windows. She saw a lot of older furniture. That stuff must have been worth a fortune. It looked older then time. It must have been in Carroll's family for centuries.
3
Goldia made a hobby of going to the cottage house and picking the old woman's flowers.
They were always the peach orange roses. Goldia would chop them up and leave them on the porch for the old woman. Magically the next day, when Goldia came back to the old woman's house, the flowers were perfect again. It was as though the day before she had not harmed them.
Then Goldia saw that the old woman had a son. The son was older then Goldia by at least 25 years or more. Goldia only had one purpose for him anyway. So Goldia accidentally bumped into the guy. She flirted with him and before long they were dating. Goldia ask about the grandson. But her new boy friend did not say much. He claimed that his son was grown and living else where.
Goldia taunted the old woman constantly when the son was not there.
Goldia would constantly tell the boyfriend how his mother was mean and insane at her old age. Goldia would suggest that the old woman be locked up for her own safety.
But nothing ever happened to the old woman.
Goldia had not seen much of the cottage house. The dates that Goldia went on , were always in pubic.
One day Goldia was in public. A young good looking man with soft teddy bear eyes accidentally bumped into her. He was perfect. He noticed her instead of the other way around. He actually liked her. Then they started to date.
One night the sweet guy invited her over to his father's house. He wanted Goldia to meet his family.
Goldia could not wait. She was starting to believe that she had found her soulmate. She was actually happy with another person without them showering her with gifts.
Goldia drove to the address he had written down on the piece of paper he gave her.
The house was way out in the country. The house looked old. But it was tiny. The young man seemed rich when they were together. The only thing that was odd , was the roses.
They were all peach and golden. They looked Victorian like the old woman's house.
Goldia knocked on the front door. No answer. So she went right in. The kitchen table was set up for four place settings.
The furniture was older then time again. In front of each place setting was a bowl of red soup. When Goldia looked closer at the soup bowls, she saw that the red soup was blood and bones.
Then she saw the pictures on the wall. They were of a circus. But in one picture she saw the good looking young man and the old woman from the coffee shop. In those pictures, it looked like the picture was taken over 200 years ago.
How could that be? The last picture was of the young man and his family in cages. They were in bear costumes.
That is when the old woman walked into the room.
The old woman said ,
" Goldia didn't your mother teach you not to talk to strangers? or for that matter, not to walk right into their home."
" I was invited here for dinner."
" Not really. You were not invited here for dinner as a guest. You were invited for the main course."
Goldia ran out of the house. The stupid brat forgot the fact that she could drive. She just ran into the woods. Goldia saw a cute baby bear in the woods. She was out of breath.
The baby bear growled a cute baby animal sound. Then a bigger bear came out.
It was his grandmother.
The grandmother of all bears. The bear could talk.
Goldia said;
" Are you going to eat me now? "
" Not this very minute... my dear... I am just a crazy old woman. I am going to let my grandson eat you."
Goldia giggled and sighed a sigh of relief. He was a cub. What harm could he do?
The baby bear was more then animal. He had grown into a man in his human form. So he had the strength of a man.
The baby bear moved his paw out and he swung at Goldia. His claws were razor sharp. He cut her leg open. Goldia screamed and started to roll over when a big paw stopped her.
It was the papa bear.
He leaned down into her ear,
" You are now the victim of someone else's game of cat and mouse. It does not feel so well, does it my dear?"
Goldia only cried like the baby she was.
She shook her head in agreement.
The papa bear said ,
" Now silly child you can leave. But before you go... I think we would like to give you something for your troubles."
" You mean you want to help me with my scars."
" No... The trouble you've caused needs to be set right , you stupid whore. "
Then the grandmother bear walked up to the dumb blonde girl. She said to her in a cold indifferent voice;
" Say you are sorry child."
" Yes I am sorry."
" Very Good."
Then the old woman bit the stupid whore's head off.
The baby bear ate her legs like fried chicken.
The papa bear at the rest of her.
When they were done , they went back inside of their cottage house for tea and soup.
The End
Art by; Jessica Singleton
I love art. I am a big geeky fan of art. But my art talent is limited to a 9th grade elective section. So I'm not Paul Booth. My talent is my writing. I am creative but not so much where it counts.
I taught myself to draw at an early age. I loved crayons and water colors. I used to sit at the kitchen table, and my mother would let me paint all over the newspapers.
I had some coloring books when I was a kid. My favorite were the coloring books that just needed water and then the page came to life.
I took an art class an elective in the 7th, 8th, and 9th grade.
Then my junior year, I took a graphic arts class. Graphic arts really is not the same as a coloring book.
Anyway... I like to doodle. I am not that bad at it.
The big thing right now in the art section of life is the blotter come backs and the modern blotch of color on paper.
Pop culture never goes out but when I started to create art, I created things that I wanted for my own home.
So they were not really meant for everyone's taste.
I do love art. But I really am limited to what I can do.
They say that if you practice anything, you get better.
I have been at that art thing for years.
I'm way above the stick figure drawings but I do not see the improvements on my end.
I keep trying though.
So what I wanted was to work with glass in art.
Like trick mirrors that are placed just so inside of the painting.
That way, it looks like you're standing inside of the art.
A child looking into a mirror. BUT she is looking off to her side in the reflection. In the doorway's reflection of the mirror, you see you looking. The way this works. You put the trick mirror in the tiny square of the doorway that is in the mirror. That way when you look at the painting of the room. The doorway is just a doorway in a painting. And you are only reflected inside of the mirror.
The other paintings were a stairwell that circled around an old tree. The tree was in a room that was filled with dark water.
Where is my inspiration for this;
When I was a kid, my aunt lived out in the country. There was an old seller on her property.
That seller filled with dark black water. I was scared of it when I was a kid.
I kept seeing myself in it.
So it became the muse for a lot of inspiration.
The house was an old 1920's house. It had the best stairwell in it.
But I was pushed down the stairs and I had a fear of stairs too.
I always thought that stairwells were beautiful. Even in a nightmare , they were pretty to look at.
I took to off brand clay animation cartoons and vintage advertisements.
Oddities and ironically enough not so much colors but expressions behind people's eyes.
My own emotions were my biggest muse.
Growing up in fear and regret does a lot.
One year when I was in the 4th grade, I went to a carnival. I got this glass picture with a unicorn on it. It was shades of blues in midnight. It was beautiful. I accidentally broke it. When I looked down at the pretty picture that was in a lot of pieces, it was even more beautiful to me. So I took to broken glass at that moment.
When I was about 4 years old , further back into my childhood, my parents took me to a circus. I loved it. I just instantly took to it.
So I do not know where that leaves me.
I bought a magazine that sells tiny ovens to heat glass works.
To make trick mirrors, really all they do is stretch and bend the mirror.
It cost money to be an artist. Not much money in it until you're dead though.
I did not want to do it for money.
I really loved art.
When I was in my early 20's , I was seeing a doctor Minor in Tulsa. We got to talking about art again.
I told him my ideas for this then.
That was almost 20 years ago.
I am 37 years old now. I will be 38 in December of 2017.
My ideas are original. No one in history has the same ideas as me.
Not unless they are lying or faking it for show.
I keep sketch pads and have been doodling for over 30 years now.
I did not just start. It is not like I'm some pathetic loser singer who wants to put themselves around the right people with other people's accomplishments . No I have my own life. I'm not pathetic .
Pictures of me and some of the things that I've doodled.
I like to color
