Vincent St. Quentin

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I wonder about the footprint I'll leave behind, I wonder about my legacy, I want to praise the human spirit. It might get lonely out there, but as long as you’ve got something to work on, there’s someone out there with you.

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Have you ever written or planned anything where the antagonist says basically nothing and is still i…
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  •  · I have been overviewing my decision not to write Science Fiction, in juxtaposition to the antagonist…
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This began from a dream, I think dreams are unfair on reality.Third Daughter – Samaulle EsunI was st…
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  •  · Hi. Like Kate I do admire the lyrical quality. Surprisingly, (just my taste) I also like the slightl…
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I heard once, that the best way to plan, is to just do everything you can, chopping the draft, here,…
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  •  · I have been smoothing out the burrs. I feel like I’m rolling a stone down a hill. Have you ever had …
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In a profile, there is a "Posts" button, that is not working. Does anyone else have this problem, or…
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I wrote this, as an experiment. Could you please tell me if anything stands out as special, I would …
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  •  · Thankyou Julia. I did a little more experimenting, and found that this style I'm experimenting with …
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Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer....Are you tall enough for this ride?(And hello, nice to …
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  •  · Well... Some of the things I see on help wanted advertisements can be quite telling...Salary Commise…

It’s like my latest crush, Loreli from The Gilmore Girls, or a new understanding of Kylie Minogue. Mothers... I dream of being with a girl, I have no interest in. We were talking at a party, I took a fellow I met there, and all of a sudden they were punching him. The wedding we were at, was a recommittal of my grandparents, but the girl visited me, and I showed her my tarot cards and athame. I wonder where she got to, in the end, with that story.

I am interested in spy novels. There seems to be three fazes: the facility, the target, and the fallout. The truth is someone dies, but there is the secret side of a secret agent, in that it is a secret, a very dark secret. One wonders how a spy gets on, in the natural world. Is it all dark? Can they rely on their secret society? Or can they fall back on friends and family, and have a child? It is mystifying, but sometimes the secret world is kept a secret, because of the ease of passage, that shall come on like a three course meal - but we all have our day job, even characters in spy novels, and that is part of the story, though not too many parentheticals describe every secret, that most readers would be machinating through their brains. So yeah, lots of things to learn.

It’s censorship that keeps you safe. Could you imagine the battle of the sexes, if the Pope spoke the truth about his iniquities, or broadcasted celeb porn on the evening news? Moses had the right idea with Passover. It is all about food. The whole fact that you dream at night, is the clue to your unhappiness. When Zac Efron comes to the golden gates, it ain’t going to be a maccas sign any more than it is going to be a welcome to Amish society. When you flout love, or kiss in public, the last thing you are thinking about is sex. The very last thing. You are wondering about where the bat is going to come from next! Are you gay because you like the same sex, or because you are a lesser being?

When someone comes to me and says, “What’s on your mind,” I always reply with, “Nothing.” The whole patina of script, and I come up with nothing, but they’re always trying to place the blame. In another way, one might ride on humour, and get a lot of flack from trying to discover something that doesn’t exist. Infinity, or eternity. I find it better to finish small talk with the old adage of witty repartee, because that can be related to solid ground. Equally, when someone starts the conversation, “How do you deal with animals,” you always respond with, “Go with your heart and get at their stomach.”

Vincent St. Quentin
 changed a profile cover 

Does anyone every really grow up? I love Hook, I reminisce about it, but how is it that one would think Peter grew up at all, isn’t turning back to old friends exactly like it was? One can split the infinitive, or end up with diamond dust, but that isn’t the true war, it is the battle of the sexes, and that is attained by the myth of pain, or that black spot that is our universe, with little fire flies calculating pie or infinity. Humanity is plagued by racism, narcissism and hedonism. Then the problems get worse. Then they get better. Then they get worse. All I mean to say, is we are all here, sitting around a fireside, that turns out to be a wall, but at least that brings the family together, and believing isn’t so bad at all, even if we aren’t truly animals.

I saw something funny, whilst watching a YouTube infomercial about Covid, with little blue text that would appear, and the segment referenced toilet paper, and Christ was in the background. An interesting juxtaposition I told mum, to a resentful reply. My Step Dad is on holiday, because he wants to be at home for the anniversary of a family death, and I thought mum meant she wanted to go on a holiday. Jamaica or Thailand, I asked. Because with all these Covid furs, the neighbours can hear my niece cry, and all of a sudden the police are at our House, and they resent my Step Father’s Harley, and my smokers cough, so we pretty much all need a holiday, because aren’t we all just hedonists at heart?

This always begins, but never ends. Elf kind, has a dystopia of wit, that makes them grow either older or younger, according to the quality of the quip.

Tulery – Vincent Saint Quentin

The real reason Tule were at the palace, were to garner the Queen’s affection, as elf kind had connections there, with regards to the aristocracy, with money in their pockets. The biscuits were covered with pink, and the room were orange. She talked none the less about things that were dainty and quaint, but things ruffled Tule’s feathers, as he had just drunk from the dog’s bowl.

Edgar were up first, as he turned around to look back to Layton, who ushered him on. To be on the spot about this Tulery, were nonchalant, to say at the least - but to break a swan’s neck, one had to be on time, and Edgar dropped dead, on the spot. The cabinet rustled in horror.

But, as it were, Layton were about the commune that day. He were rubbing the old beat up buggy that had been repaired, with shammy and wax. Tule watched him, like a hawk, and wondered what that lock grip meant, as neither were moving a didactic inch from teen to tween.

The wit had it, and Layton were blasting the keys to the console attached to the TV. The bean bag, supported the three, but the vice grip of Tule’s father kept at him, and he wondered why his anger had become the rule. Layton stopped and stared aggressively sometimes. Edgar were off on some tangent, as he counted his fingers.

Tule were at the fridge, as he were five. In a didactic quip, he muttered out loud, that he were as stupid as could be, and grew to the adjusted age of the freezer, then he licked the icy pole and merely shrunk. Later, he were the one to witness Layton and his funniest remark turn him into a fox, that skipped away, into the totem jungle.

A Trip through Time – Vincent Saint Quentin

Upon this French bench, I sat in recumbent silence. The food before me, a bagel, were not the article of such renown, as alamode. And the pigeons here, were just as agreeing as in any other city. I wore myself a scarf, and gazed upon the beauty of the carved face before me, a reticule, as it were, of chastity and vice. 

I were of a habit, of chewing my opinions. I talked, as if the doves had come home, and I were as rowdy as any other farce, bent upon the will of the bedside manner.

“Do you wish it upon yourself to betide, or do you, as a habit?”

“Do I as a habit what?”

I were on the edge of my seat, the edge of my toes, so to speak. The palaver, were fatty, leaning upon emeritus. It switched between tense, like it were a clockwork orange, and it sprouted before us, and died in its layman terms.

“But, isn’t it so cliché?”

The cross sections of opinion, were dualistic, and not fancy to mine ilk. I were crossing the boundaries, and we could talk as loud as we wanted, and assuredly not be overheard. The roar of the bus, the twang of their accented home tongues. 

“I believe in the righteous, but the factionless?”

The table, were bare of spread or doily, the smoke tray, filled with our butt ends, but no ash.

“I continue to see through you.”

Then, we dropped, and our conversation halted. At moments like these, two priests would talk of holy sacrament, of hope.

“I think…” 

The epic of our lives, flooded with fear, we were to stay in this city for numerous nights.

“But, about that kid, who lived.” And there the moniker stayed our fires, and the swells of mischief suddenly bonded the causes of the lions.

It’s all about body language. A butterfly flaps its wings in China, and there is an earthquake in Japan. It’s about puns and humour too. A cringing face, and you’ve already read the script to your conversation. The real trap is falling in love, then you start thinking about evil, and the end of the world. The real truth, is the lie. We are a complex machination of creationism, puppets. Magic is a personal experience. Problem solving is the basis of gossip. One may take the advice of the critics, or be the critic in the hopes of a final reprieve. All I mean, is relationship is about response not questioning. Because we can all fall into the trap of confusion sometimes, all we need to do is hold onto crime and punishment, rather than deception and ignorance.

We have been preparing for the pandemic to spread, the preparations have been hilarious, but let us take this on a universal scale. The study of viruses is close to the study of bio organisms, like prokaryotes and eukaryotes, one with equinamity and one with a minuscule brain, and one has to wonder at the habits of humans, and how it relates to their horoscopes. The likelihood of a nuclear weapon to take the Vatican is the level of hysteria that has gripped the world with the onslaught of covid 19, but who is dealing with the fallout? A blameless public, with the responsibility of organising beds and masks for their patients, is on the brink of death with this advent, but the donation of money might be bigger than the desire to throw all those toilet rolls into the sea. With the alms of fiction on our minds, one has to marvel at the rank and file that make these decisions behind closed doors, and the ones prepared to open them.

I want to apologise when I get nervous. Sometimes citation and gossip gets the better of a person, but that is no reason to put the ink down. The most special time in life, is just waiting around the corner, and you at least need to know both sides of the story. I also want to thank, when I get lethargic. The amount of time spent rolling over in bed, trying to sleep off the stupor, is no better to my health than The Gilmore Girls or Naruto, when I’m trying to eat my breakfast. I guess I just want to put my toe in the water with a differing crowd sometimes, and I know that hurts for some people, but this is a kind of home, and I want you to know, that is my intention with writing as well. Mostly, I am sorry for being a troll, but we can all pay the fair for the bridge sometimes, when there is a hero at our side, with very complex and conflicted machinations and emotions none the less.

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