And the world fades away, and I find myself curled up in a nest woven from straw that encloses me all the way around. There’s light coming from somewhere, because I can see. Outside? What’s outside? I’ve a feeling I have never known. A friendly echo, a hum. A message carried upon it that I… Continue reading Micro Fiction: Cursed
Tag: flash fiction
Micro Fiction: Elbow
You need the drugs, as it turns out. You need them to make the world shine, to show you it’s more than a three-dimensional dump. You need them so you understand – truly understand – that the fourth dimension is you, your mind. It’s what brings everything to life. It’s what makes a pedestrian crossing… Continue reading Micro Fiction: Elbow
Journal Sequence #5: Notes from Hypnogogia
1. Retreat into a comfortable mental zone. Maybe one layer down. Think of a tree. A single trunk from which all branches grow. Sturdy, Dependable. Organic. 2. The towers stretching into the sky – human constructs – now gone. Melted away and replaced with visions of an unbound realm. 3. Escape from Space. Threads floating… Continue reading Journal Sequence #5: Notes from Hypnogogia
![Cut-up Sequence #2: Remixing Mind [The Letter M]](https://crdudley.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/10/20211004_194018.jpg?w=900)
Cut-up Sequence #2: Remixing Mind [The Letter M]
He hated the spectre-creating machine. It was like the other: wild, rough. It made him sick. But where there is a weapon, man will use it. Where a man hurts, he will seek. Through a tube the egos turned into colours showing their relentless and eternal state of emergency. Humans are perfect green. A green… Continue reading Cut-up Sequence #2: Remixing Mind [The Letter M]
Writing Pareidolia
I’m fascinated by pareidolia. The way we are primed for spotting the familiar in the alien, the meaning in the senseless, the pattern in the random. The way we may or may not see the same things, like faces in froth or ponies in clouds, depending on our subjective experiences and values. Nature’s Rorschach test.… Continue reading Writing Pareidolia
![Journal Sequence #4: Minor Fractal Loops [You Can’t Keep Doing This]](https://crdudley.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/20210929_095918.jpg?w=900)
Journal Sequence #4: Minor Fractal Loops [You Can’t Keep Doing This]
As I writhed in a pool of tears, and blood dripped from two fresh wounds in my arm, my best friend looked me in the eye and said: you can’t keep doing this. It was the end of our friendship in the sense that our symbiosis would never be the same, but it was those… Continue reading Journal Sequence #4: Minor Fractal Loops [You Can’t Keep Doing This]
Cut-up Sequence #1: Our Hammer/Still Moving
I’m in a metal box. It’s raining outside, maybe. No one is coming. Not ever. Sleep provides a refuge in which the mind becomes one with its [our] habitat. I must emerge in my dream because The Jewel is coming. I buzzed her in. Soon she’ll enter through my hotel window. I selected her from… Continue reading Cut-up Sequence #1: Our Hammer/Still Moving
![Journal Sequence #2: A Month [Alone in the Dark]](https://crdudley.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/08/20210819_203927.jpg?w=880)
Journal Sequence #2: A Month [Alone in the Dark]
Dual-aspect monismQuantum physicsExtreme synchronicityDepressionInternal screamingSpinozan philosophyEcstatic grinningKathy AckerManic laughterFlossingSporadic poetry compositionRiffing aphorismsForeboding in the ribcageAlone in the DarkPainting in the mindBurying nihilismTearsViolent dancingArmchair philosophyGeorges BatailleDreaming in the daytimeBleeding scabsPlatonic cravingThelemic WillPatti SmithRuminationCloud nineClaws of desperationDisappearing abyssDual-aspect monism I’m trying something out here. Looking for patterns, rhythms, connections in journaling and beauty in fragments. I’m looking… Continue reading Journal Sequence #2: A Month [Alone in the Dark]
Flash: Colour Bleeds Out/Only Birds
Colour bleeds out, sounds wind down. Muffled, blind. Straight lines, thick and thin, washed in white and grey. It is winter here. Gentle snowflakes fall, though they strike as something sinister. Am I the only one conscious, the only one not a golem made of meat? Playing pieces for cruel gods. This pawn has slipped… Continue reading Flash: Colour Bleeds Out/Only Birds
Flash Fiction: The Sky Is Turning Black
The sky is turning black. It does this from time to time, only just now it’s more of a concern due to the unprecedented weight it has brought with it. I don’t know what will happen if we get crushed. I call out to Tommy, but he’s floating in the pool of melancholy wearing nothing… Continue reading Flash Fiction: The Sky Is Turning Black
C.R. Dudley 