Gloomscapes, Outdoors

Gloomscapes #20

Today, I’m pleased to present number Twenty in my Gloomscapes series.

To mark this occasion, I have decided for something less gloomy, maybe even a bit fun–and a dialogue from my favourite YA dystopian series.

ferris wheel beach

“Think about it. People used to ride that thing. For fun,” says Will, shaking his head.

“They must have been Dauntless,” I say.

“Yeah, but a lame version of Dauntless. “Christina laughs. “A Dauntless Ferris wheel wouldn’t have cars. You would just hang on tight with your hands, and good luck to you.”

We walk down the side of the pier. All the buildings on my left are empty, their signs torn down and their windows closed, but it is a clean kind of emptiness. Whoever left these places left them by choice and at their leisure. Some places in the city are not like that.

~Veronica Roth, Divergent

#KeepOnGloomin’

The world in the Divergent series is a city divided into five factions. The above mentioned Dauntless are one them. They’re the brave ones; Abnegation are the selfless, Candor the honest, Erudite the ones that value knowledge and Amity are the hippies. Then there are the factionless, who don’t fit into any faction and live on the fringes of the society. I’m a definite Erudite myself, though I think the Dauntless are the coolest ones.

Gloomscapes, Outdoors

Gloomscapes #17

In last week’s Gloomscapes post, I was initially going to add one more picture of a broken window–the one I am posting now. But as I was looking at it, an idea started forming in my head and I concluded that not only did it deserve its own post, it deserved its own piece of fiction.

This is not meant to be a regular thing, I just got inspired. Enjoy! (Or not, as I say.)

broken window3

Nobody knew how Zara got that stone.

The girls were kept in what used to be a convent. An imposing, forbidding stone building, newly installed security cameras in each corner. Thick walls, windows high and narrow, with bars on them. Little sunlight got through; the residential wing faced north. Inside, all the rooms were identical. Floors of dark hardwood, walls painted slate grey.  A bed in each corner, metal-framed, with a thin mattress and an old worn-out blanket. No pillows. One single lightbulb hung from the ceiling. Heavy black doors were locked every night at nine o’clock by the guard on duty, unlocked again at six in the morning. The girls wore long grey dresses, starched white blouses with high collars and black shoes. The oldest ones were no more than sixteen years old. Those were the only ones who still remembered books, music, films and TV, videos, photographs. Now, all they were allowed to carry around was the Party Manifesto pamphlets. As if they didn’t know it by heart already, as if it hadn’t been engraved into their minds. To build and protect our homeland, be prepared. Always Prepared! Yet they carried it, every single one of them, dog-eared, covered with greasy fingerprints and doodles, here and there quotes and passages highlighted in neon colours, from the time before even neon highlighters were banned. Desperate attempts to mark their own individuality.

Afterwards, Zara’s roommates swore they didn’t notice anything unusual. Zara was a quiet girl who kept to herself. It seemed she had wandered off behind the gardener’s shed, the only place where such stones could be found, during the afternoon break, when even the strictest of teachers couldn’t deny themselves the indulgence of little rest. She hid the stone in her sock, at the back of her calf, no doubt thankful this time for the long skirt. She kept it there throughout the afternoon activities and dinner, until it was time to return to the rooms. Half an hour after the lights went out, she slipped out of her bed, clutching the stone in her hand, tiptoed to the window and with all the force she could gather in her sixteen-year-old body, smashed the glass.

#KeepOnGloomin’

Disclaimer: the above text is entirely fictional. The photographed building is not a former convent and no girls are kept there. The writing is merely a work of my imagination and was inspired by the picture of the broken window.
Gloomscapes, Outdoors

Gloomscapes #15

Time’s running when you’re having fun! For Number Fifteen in Gloomscapes, I offer you something I knew was going to be part of the series as soon as I learnt of its existence.

I’m talking about a line from a song called Thought Contagion by the brilliant Muse, of course:

muse thought contagion

It’s too late for a revolution
Brace for the final solution

From an interview published in NME magazine, Matt Bellamy got the idea for the song by watching American news: “well, that’s were the first part of the song came from really. It’s kinda like some strange bubble where they’re all living up Trump’s bum, basically… It gets inside your mind. I think that’s where the song came from really. You start walking round worrying about things that you wouldn’t normally think about and so the song came from that. How other people’s ideas can kinda take over your own if you’re not careful

Says it all.

#KeepOnGloomin’

Gloomscapes, Outdoors

Gloomscapes #14

Hi there, I hope everybody’s had a good week. In today’s Gloomscapes entry, I continue with the Hunger Games theme.

fence from hunger games2

I only have to pass a few gates to reach the scruffy field called the Meadow. Separating the Meadow from the woods, in fact enclosing all of District 12, is a high chain-link fence topped with barbed-wire loops.

~Suzanne Collins, Hunger Games (Hunger Games #1)

fence from hunger games1

#KeepOnGloomin’

Yes, I realise the pictures are not a completely accurate representation of the text. No barbed-wire loops, most of all. But you know, it would be quite hard to find scenes from dytopian books in real life, as we don’t live in a totalitarian regime.

Yet.

Gloomscapes, Outdoors

Gloomscapes #13

Hello world, it’s Sunday again, which means Gloomscapes.

Lucky number thirteen it is today and so it has to be, of course, District 13 from the Hunger Games trilogy.

glimpse of a bird flying

A mockingjay. Just a glimpse of it as it flies by. The same one every time.

~Susan Collins, Catching Fire (Hunger Games #2)

Mockingjay is, in the Hunger Games universe, a fictional hybrid bird, which becomes a symbol of Resistance. It’s also the title of the third book. When I viewed this picture on my computer and saw the flying bird, I was immediately reminded of the above quote from Catching Fire. I’m glad I got a chance to post it on the blog finally!

#KeepOnGloomin’

Gloomscapes, Outdoors

Gloomscapes #12

So here it is, Number 12 in Gloomscapes series, which means now I have a dozen worth of posts, hopefully worth a bit more than a dime.

And it wouldn’t be it without some brutalistic architecture!

brutalistic building1

Ministry of Truth, his place of work, towered vast and white above the grimy landscape.

~George Orwell, 1984

brutalistic building2

#KeepOnGloomin’