What are Ozlandish Writings?

From July 2010 to December 2014 we ran OZLAND PICTURE STORIES as described below. Sadly though the number of writers reduced over the years and we decided to call it a day. We leave these as a record of the good times we had.

Are "You" ready to challenge your writing skills? Then participate in our OZLAND Picture Stories writing series at The Ozland Art Gallery.

Each month a new picture will be picked, from our OZLAND Artist of the Month collection, with different themes. Your goal is to write a 500-1000 word... poem... essay... or story about the picture picked. This is a chance for you to challenge your writing skills each month. Story can be written in ANY genre... sci fi... romance... ghost... fantasy... fiction... non-fiction... biography... mystery... historical... whatever your writing genre... feel free to experiment. Send your writing inworld to Sven Pertelson as a notecard to have it included on the web site. We meet at the The Ozland Art Gallery each Wednesday at Noon and 6pm SLT to read the latest submissions on voice. More Information


Wednesday, April 25, 2012

"Lunatic" by Teri

"Lunatic" by Teri

I pride myself on my reasoning and intellect. I can solve any problem and overcome any obstacle. I apply logic and analysis to a situation and invariably come up with an effective solution or optimal technique to address the issue. I am known for my skills and they keep me employed. I am a tower of strength and a bastion of dependability. If it can be done, I will be able to find a way to do it. I am the rock that never crumbles and that provides others with an anchor to weather any storm. Well … um ... I was.



Why can’t I think straight? What is wrong with me? I close my eyes and all I can see is her face. I try to make some notes and all I can write is her name. I try to eat, but everything tastes like her sweet kisses and gives off the delicate aroma of her perfume. She fills my every conscious thought when I am awake and when I am asleep she lives in my dreams.  Her voice floats on the wind and fills the silence with whispering sweet nothings.

I look up at the moon and it’s the same brilliant silver as her hair. It reflects the light of the sun just like her sparkling eyes. It is something to be worshiped, just as my sweetheart is like a goddess to me. Maybe that is what is wrong, maybe I have lunar insanity.  I am a lunatic, that must be it. Of course, there is one alternative. I could be in love. I  may have been reduced by her sweet delicious smile into someone who is hopelessly, passionately, deeply in love. I sound like a broken record player, don’t I?

I will try to describe her, but perfection is hard to describe -- witty, playful, compassionate, loving, kind, generous, intelligent, affectionate, loyal, open, communicative, pretty, sexy, sensuous, honest, wonderful, amazing, awesome … in every way perfect. I don’t deserve her, yet I have somehow earned her affections and now I cannot picture a world without her at my side. I want to spend every second of every day with her. I do not need to eat or sleep for her presence is all I need to sustain me.

Well, enough of this silly attempt to do something “meaningful.” I will not get this proof completed when all I can do is to draw silly pictures of hearts containing our initials. My heart has obviously kidnapped my brain and I am at its whim.  Perhaps I’ll write her a poem.

I love thee,

  From my spirit so deep.

I think only of you,

  When awake or asleep.

I give you my heart,

  Forever to keep.

If you were to leave,

  I think I will weep!

Ok. I’ve done better. What is wrong with me? Why won’t the words come? When I am with her it is worse. My tongue gets all knotted and I can barely speak. Her voice weaves a spell that saps me of any desire to do more than curl up in her arms. Is it wrong to want to be held all the time? To feel nothing but the soft tender caress of her body pressed against mine in a loving embrace.  When her lips touch mine I am completely under her power.  I would do anything for her … anything. I know that is dangerous to admit, but it's the truth.

Now you know the reason for my downfall. I have been enchanted by a woman so wonderful  and magical that even the moon, the sun, the stars, the heavens, pale in comparison. She is my everything and I am hers. I do not think I will find a way to escape this most wonderful insanity. I don't believe I will even try. Perhaps in time she will help me to find just a small sliver of my reason again and I will be able to do more than pine for her attention.

I love her. Have I said that yet? When she is not with me it feels as though my soul has been ripped out and my spirit condemned to the farthest corner of oblivion. I am but a pale shadow of myself until we are together. I know I will not survive long without her near me for I have put so much of myself into this love that when it dies, I too will surely die. I cannot see how I could go on without her.

She has total control over me. I sit in rapt attention waiting to hear her whisper those magical three words. She says them often and I am convinced she means what she says. Perhaps that is part of my problem. It is one thing to love, but yet another to have that love returned. I am stuck in an infinite loop where I dump all my love upon her in order to find a moment's peace and while I do, she is dumping hers into me and somehow it is magnifying in intensity. I might just explode with joy if this does not stop soon.

"I love you." I have said that before, and I thought I meant it. Now I am not so sure because love has never felt like this before. I am being consumed by the fires of our passion. Each time we touch I feel the energy flowing between us. I tingle all over with giddy delight. Perhaps love short-circuits the brain. The million volts of pure emotion that spark between us have fused my neurons and turned me into some kind of baby animal. I am like a little kitten when I am around her. I smile, I giggle, I laugh, and I seem unable to do more than follow her around as though I was leased.

I look up at the moon. If this is insanity, I think I'll take it. I would rather be a lunatic in love with my sweetheart than a calm and rational automaton. I don't need reason and intellect when I have her kisses and smiles. I may be insane, but I am finally happy.

I love her and she loves me. What more could there be?

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