war

Serah has dark, terrible thoughts about her whole life & how to handle it. She toys with the idea of getting ready to go somewhere, bra, jeans, tshirt, socks & shoes, and then to just start walking.
She can’t decide if this urge is one of a flight towards freedom or towards suicide. It has been more than a year…closer to five years, actually…since she could do a full grocery shopping trip without passing out before the food was put away. She will call for the frozen foods to be brought to her in the tones of a bomb shelter guard: there is no time to be lost, the essentials must be stored in their proper places before the next airstrike–when Serah’s vision turns grey & black with shooting stars, & she knows that the respite from her own personal Luftwaffe is over. Time to lay down, to let unconsciousness smother her, or else lay half-awake as vicious spasms rack her muscles. Later, she’ll find crusts & crumbs scattered everywhere by her family, her home a stinking minefield.
And she thinks of walking.

a moment to cover my ass

Of course all this is fiction. Serah Gould Ravenswing, alternately known as ‘I’, is simply a way for me to try my hand at writing something bigger than the occasional blurp on Twitter or malarkey on Facebook about how wonderful life is, or even the once-upon-a-time MySpace Fist of Rage blogs targeted at whoever hurt my feelings that week. The odd thing is, people actually read those, and as of this moment, BMS is my little secret, a corner of the internet as yet unnoticed by acclaimant, critic, or bored web-surfer.
Nevertheless, the potential reader should know: much like Mutant Down Under, most of this is true only as much as the observer decides that it must be true. Everything written is true in a relative, psychoanalytic kind of way, but anyone hoping to meet up with the Darrell Gould or Ulla Ehrenreich of this blog will be disappointed. On occasion I may work into my stories actual living people or places that truly can be found on a map, but most writers do.
Fiction is almost always about the truth.

The Bitch Is Back

After four blogs fishbowled with self-pity and then an unexplained hiatus of nearly a year, here I am again. Let us all hope I have something interesting to say this time around.

The rest was background for what’s happening now…as all the past is background, backstory, for the moment upon which we are poised. I’m irritated to discover that Flash Factor is by no means original. Although it does seem that I predate most, if not all, of the flash factors out there, with their brand spanking new copyright 2010′s hanging off their ass ends. I could have gone with Ravens Wing, but my art porn site (finally over 100 visitors in just over a year, I’m getting up there!) and sexy Myspace & sexy Twitter all are some variation on the Ravenswing theme, and I am not sure that I want to brand myself as the crazy art porn micro-star with the pretentious blog about her fucked-up family. Let us keep things in their respective places, I say, with the merest of nods to the obsessive-compulsive behavior that soothes me so.