spoonfuls of alphabet soupmy thoughts have turned into an alphabet soup; all the letters, all the words, all the memories are still there, but the coherence is all gone.spoonfuls of alphabet soup5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i l i f i live in fantasy;
r i j a p reality is just a place
t r m f to rest my feet.
m h i i t c my head isn't in the clouds
b i f a &
Second Chances- Introduction"Isn't it a lovely thought?"Second Chances- Introduction5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Wouldn't you love to see more?"
I opened my eyes as I barely heard the whimper of a calm voice speaking out to me. All I could see in front of me was a figure of a girl. Her back was facing me and her light brown hair was shimmering in the wind. She wore a light baby green dress that had fallen to her lower thigh, and had her shimmering long hair was tide loosely by a light green bow into a ponytail. She had white flats on and light porcelain skin. She was standing in a field filled with grass and odd flowers. The wind was light and mild and I felt it pound softly on my face, ruffling my hair. I looked around me noticing I was on a field. I tried to look beyond the field, but that was all there was, just more of the field. The sky was light blue, and there were twinkling yellow lights only around us. The whole scenery, including the lights, was far too bright for me to handle. I noticed my green ushanka was gone and I was wearing a buttoned up T-shirt in t
SleepoverIt's just a sleepover.Sleepover5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I know this.
Kyle knows this.
So...what the hell?
Stan Marsh couldn't fall asleep...his mind was focused on the mane of red hair before him, fast asleep.
Staring at the boy's unconscious face, Stan decided there was no point in looking away again. He had been staring at his best friend for, easily, an hour or so now. They had had sleepovers in the past -hell-they were super best friends after all, but now was different...
Stan had no idea.
He just knew it was, and for some reason, he couldnt look away. Bringing his hand to the Jewish boy's head, Stan brushed his fingers slowly through his curly hair. Why was he doing this?
He still had no idea.
It was just sort of an urge, an urge he had succumb to about an hour ago and since then couldnt stop doing...it just felt good.
Repeating the motion, Stan allowed his mind to wander. He needed to know why he kept feeling this way around Kyle. Why everytime Kyle came over, all he w
Forget their taste anytime...Forget their taste anytime soonForget their taste anytime...8 years ago in Spiritual & Occult More Like This
The angel enters the other angel's shrine bowing, its halo a faint autumn purple.
"Do you have a name?" it asks the other one sitting beside a window. "I mean, right now."
"I don't. I don't need one right now. Do you?" the other one replies, not turning towards the door. Then it adds "You are welcome."
"Thank you. As for the name, yes I do have one. I was asked to pass it on to you, after making sure you don't have one already."
"I had quite a few recently. None now," nods the one still sitting. "Do speak it to me then."
The one in the door moves in, crossing the small, bright room. It casts shadows, and there's a loose feather trailing a circle slowly behind it in the air. It is a black feather, tinted purplish by the autumn halo. When the angel reaches the other one, it leans to it and whispers something in its left ear.
"No," the sitting one says, not a shadow crossing its pure face. "I cannot bear that name now. I am too light for the task it
Second Chances 1I head down the stairs after taking a shower and getting dress. I look ahead towards the living room and kitchen. No one seems to be there, my mother is probably on bed, refusing to make breakfast for her gay son. My father is at work, probably defending or persecuting someone in court this minute. My brother is still in England as an exchange student. He went just to get away from me, he even said so himself. I guess my sexuality preference bothers my family that much. At least my father isn't as dramatic as my little brother and controlling mother; still, he has been avoiding me ever since I came out. I was so afraid of telling anybody else, that I refrained from telling my friends, or anybody at school. Including my best friend Stan Marsh, whom I've been best friends with since even before preschool. He noticed that I have been hiding something from him, and after trying to pry it out of me, we got into a fight, he told me he never wanted to see me again. Worst of all Kenny seems toSecond Chances 15 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Best Friends? -STYLE-The cold whisked around my face and nipped at my nose. Though it was colder than it has ever been, I barely noticed. My mind thought of one person; one boy. His hair was dark, black as coal. Blue eyes pierced my heart leaving a wondrous sensation behind for me to have. That skin of his, almost porcelain. Deep within me the urge to brush my fingertips on his baby textured skin grew and festered inside of me. Some call it a monster.Best Friends? -STYLE-4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Gay. Is that what I am? I chewed the word inside my mouth but it sounded so wrong. Gay is tan, muscled, dyed, and fake. I am pale, lanky, red haired, and could care less about fashion. The more I try and think about me with someone else my mind races to him. My best friend. My soul mate?
Stan Marsh. He is nine years old. I am three-quarters of an inch taller than him, but he's a few months older. We've been friends since forever and this love feels so right. At least I think I should call it love. Yet day after day I fight it off. Never daring to whisper the
ix. Unspoken Gesturesi. He shuffles around, a husk of what he used to be.ix. Unspoken Gestures5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
ii. I can hear him scraping his aged comb over his bristly, patterned hair. It used to be like the black paint you see in darkrooms, but the paint's been peeling [cracking] into lifeless grey.
iii. He isn't much of a talker. He always thought that words were unnecessary in this day and age. Instead, you had to act to do something, be someone.
iv. I still remember the days where he put forth that notion of his. They were good times, I guess (we deserved them)
v. He never had a good life. I'm not sure if he ever will. He has had four brothers With five children all vying for the five most basic needs, he came last.
vi. Born after all of them, it was sufficient enough for them to act as bBrUoLtLhIeErSs. It was a vicious cycle where his brothers thrashed him, and he thrashed other people.
vii. When he was fifteen, he started working, not knowing he was
One_More_KissOne_More_Kiss4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I can't believe I'm trying to write again,
Can't believe I'm holding this long-forgotten pen.
I guess I'm just used to writing when something's wrong,
Not when everything in my life's stable, finally growing strong.
So is it pathetic that I can't stop thinking about it?
It is sad that the memories from last night won't quit
Playing over and over in my head
Whenever I shut my eyes to go to bed?
You and me laying under the covers
Talking, saying things that others
Will never hear, what they'll never know.
Other days dressed up, going where we wouldn't go.
Now I fully understand what it means to be addicted to this feeling
Instead of giving me that high it keeps me normal, keeps my head from reeling
In the car, through the window
In the blinding, crunching snow
One more touch, one more embrace.
One last chance for my heart to race.
One more deep look, one more kiss,
One last taste of gorgeous bliss.
Don't leave, just shut the door.
It's the last, just one more.
But it will never be enough
why we never.on her fifth birthdaywhy we never.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
her mother gave her an electric belt and said
"there is no reason to live if you can't feel it" and
strapped it around her daughter's tiny waist. she told her
"every time you breathe, it stings" and that was how
she knew she was alive.
wednesdays were leap days and fridays were fall days
and tuesday was the day her brother cried because
he'd been told his daffodils would never bloom
again. he said "flowers die when no one
sees them" and she put her hands over his eyes.
"i'm a flower" she repeated over and over.
"hello, i think i know you" he had said.
"what do you want?"
"hello, i think i know you."
"hellos are overrated."
"hello, i think i know you."
she asked her father for porcelain dolls
to watch their frail limbs shatter as they fell.
legs fell. arms fell. heads fell. she fell.
and it didn't even sting.
on her sixth birthday, the belt was passed on.
And the Heavens Rained Down"What does the sky look like today?"And the Heavens Rained Down6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"It's... gray. And flat. Boring really, Grandpa."
Poor Annie. She sounded so awkward searching for the words. Somewhere in all those years, we had forgotten to teach her the poetry of the sky. Even through eyes that had long since darkened, I could see the clouds, clear and majestic, reaching to the heavens.
They were white. The purest white I had ever seen. Matched by the purest laugh I had ever heard, now echoed to me from the bottom of the well of time, the voice of Annie's grandmother. She beamed, holding her straw hat against the wind and urging me to go faster. At the top of the hill, we stood together and gazed upward, eternity stretching out before us and all things possible in our youth. Such white clouds, fluffy and free, skating in an ocean of blue and haloed by a hidden sun. I hoped that moment would never end and year
Drowning Out the SilenceSilence resoundsDrowning Out the Silence5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Almost deafening in our classroom
But they're not silent
For the reasons that I am
They are silent because
There's not talking during a test.
I'm silent because
I want to end the silence
But, now that I think about it, isn't saying nothing sort of saying nothing? I feel a little stirring in my chest, like I've just figured out something uncomfortable. I stare down at the numerous questions that await my solving on the white test paper before me. Furrowing my brows, I run a hand through my hair.
There is a scuffling sound to my right, followed by an eruption of hushed giggles. Of course, this is all followed closely by the whispered venom, "faggot". A deep-rooted anger for such ignorant degradation boils in my stomach. I whip around to see four lanky boys with cocky smiles. I glare daggers and open my mouth to tell them off (with something of rapier wit, I assure you) but my lips only tug at the silver adhesive stuck to them.
Internet"Excuse me. It's really not that funny. As I said, it's raining in my laptop. It's half-rusted already. There was a puddle of water under it when I came home."Internet5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
On the other side of the phone, the IT specialist was trying really hard to muffle his laughter. He wasn't doing too well.
"I'll " he choked " I'll definitely ask the entire department about this. Maybe they'll have a clue. I " he chuckled and hid it in a cough. "I'm sorry. Horrible cold. I've never heard of anything like this before."
"But the others also promised to come back to me with solutions. They never did."
"I'm sorry, sir. Your problem is waaaay beyond my area of expertise."
The IT expert was hanging up already, but Mike could hear, just before the final click, a cry of long-suppressed mirth. "Get 'im a shrink!"
Mike looked at the laptop. The couch was soaking wet under it. The USB side was starting to show a reddish tint of rust. He sighed and plucked the internet cable out. A few remaining water drops
Liar***Liar5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The first time you realize he's lying is a Sunday. He coughs a couple times, maybe once or twice, and you find yourself reaching out, asking, "Are you okay?"
It's habitual, something you always do. It's just reflexive, years of politeness grilled into your head. He knows that, he knows that.
And yet he glares at you suspiciously. "I'm fine."
A small voice in the back of your head says, 'Liar' and you wonder just where that came from. Because you know he'd never lie to you, you've been best friends for far too long for that.
But that's the only logical explanation as to why he's staring at you as though he's trying to puzzle something out. Maybe he's just wondering how you could possibly know he's not telling the truth...
The second time you realize he's lying, he's at school. The professor approaches, asking for the essay he was supposed to write.
"I don't have it." His face is troubled, worried, and, as that tiny voice inside your head points
Why Me...?Why Me...?4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
~CRY 'TILL I DIE~
Ever wanted to disappear? Ever wanted just to fade away into the world of your imagination? Doesn't it sound wonderful? Running around in that world of no words such as "Impossible" and "Don't"? To be free, fly and finally wholeheartedly alive? Dreams, wishes, believe
It crashes down on me when I think about it. The real world catches me from behind and everything turns sour. Nothing seems important, everything is pointless. Even crying, begging for a change won't hand you anything but a headache and red eyes. A feeling so indescribable, so empty, it hurts. Nothing to look forward to, nothing awaits you the next school day. Only bullies and harsh words. No friends there by your side to chase the pain away. Hours and hours with dark eyes and no smile. Once the bell rings I'm out the door before anyone manage to call my name. I run, like I'm being chased by the devil himself. I want to escape that place, the pointless building of children with evil words. I
AloneAlone14 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to what was
what might have been
and now I see
what was once unseen
left to dwell in emotions deep
what was reality
a lost fantasy
Sleep, Only to be woken
Run, Only to be caught
Scream, Only to be unheard
Escape to the darkness
Into the unknown
What was to be
No longer will
All is lost
In spite of me
To what was
What might have been
But now I see
What once was unseen
Sleep to be woken
Run to be caught
Scream to be unheard
Escape to the darkness
Into the unknown
Only to emerge in the light
To start again
Different SolutionsJuly 8, 2006, 9:13 AMDifferent Solutions6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Grandpa died today. I just found out by a neighbor of his who called me up. Just thought I'd write this down before I went down there to claim myself as his grandson. My counselor said this kind of thing [Journal Writing] is good for release without injuring anything. So this should definitely be something worth writing about, but I guess I better go down before someone else claims him before I do.
July 8, 2006, 12:28 PM
Got down here no problems at all. Stopped for food, but that's about it. Found out how Grandpa died. Heart attack. Went through some of his stuff. Most of it is for everyone else. Have to call them up and let them know, since they are all far away. Found Grandpa's journal. Skimming through it, I found many entries about a girl who went by his house everyday.
Obsessive-CompulsiveLook at my room and it is a mess, a mess, a mess, a mess, a mess. Lock the door, make sure it is locked. 2 4 6, 4 6 8, 6 8 10, 8 10 12, 10 12 14. Must make sure it is locked, locked, locked, locked, locked. 2 4 6, 4 6 8, 6 8 10, 8 10 12, 10 12 14. It should be locked, [it is fine] (shouldn't it?).Obsessive-Compulsive5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Too many things and yet not enough time, not enough, not enough, not enough, not enough. Have to be quick. Arrange, order, align. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10. Arrange, order, align. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10. Arrange, order, align. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10. Arrange, order, align. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10. Arrange, order, align. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10. Push it back, must make it square, must hear the clunk of it meeting, must hear it, must hear it, must hear it, must hear it. Now to count, must make sure it stays, must make sure it is not out of place, not out of place, not out of place, not out of place, not out of place. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10. Move on to the next, must make it square, must hear the clunk of it mee
I...I miss when things were simpler. When coloring books were first priorities.I...5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I miss when waking up early meant more time to play outside.
I want to live without drama. Whatever happened to being carefree?
I want to be scared by a dare. All I want is to seek or hide.
"I'll be your best friend!" If I only knew..
Why is it that when you get older, things just go by faster?
I remember when I couldn't wait for summer to end.
Now they're taken over by trips and events. Time is our master.
I don't want to give up and say, "Time, you always win."
All too often, I'm left having to.
This is a time for recollection. At this point, I shouldn't mourn.
My sadness is saturated with fond memories of Ch
Conversations with Death -1--1- PainConversations with Death -1-5 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
It has become an usual occurrence lately. Not an unwelcome one, exactly. Despite it's strangeness, I have come to find his visits are intriguing, comforting even. So it's of no surprise when I feel his aura surround my door. Pulling the tea pot from the burner, I wait, wondering if he would ring the bell,or just knock.
He knocks softly, barely an audible sound. It reminds me of his very spirit. Most who know of him, think he is hard, heartless. This could not be further from the truth. And his knock reflects that. He is unobtrusive, waiting for an answer, but not demanding one. It surprised me, the first time he came to visit me. Then again, he has not yet ceased to surprise me. Every misconception I possessed before has been broken by his gentle presence.
Unwilling to make him wait any longer, I open the door, a soft smile on my face. Ducking my head in respect, I hold it open, stepping back to allow him entrance into my humble abode. He moves past me, his s
vertigothe light's dizzyvertigo4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
or maybe that's just me
because i haven't been able
to see in straight lines these days,
i see stars spinning
around the night sky
like i can see the world
i am so still
i can hardly breathe.
when bleeding doesn't work.
until its lips fall over the
edge of your skin,
because you are infection,
you are atrophy and misery
all under one band-aid.
it's scary to see things moving
when you're too afraid
to do the same.
it's scary to be stagnant,
a warm swamp in july,
thick with mud and lack of envy,
coagulation around the ankles.
but it's scarier to move
when your eyes dance out of focus,
when fire is blurs of acrylic paint,
dioxazine purple, alizarin crimson,
it's scarier to move
when you can't
see what's in front of you,
and you know
it could be
"It's so Fluffy""It's so Fluffy"5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
It's so Fluffy
Adommy one shot
I had to keep my eye on Tommy... he was drunk as a fucking skunk, and was tripping over everything and anything possible...
"Look Adam!!!" He squealed loudly, his bloodshot eyes overfilling with joy...
"Ballooooooooons" he broke out of my grasp and started running...
"No Tommy.." I called after him...
"That's the little girls balloon, not yours!"
"But A....dammmm it's "Chowder" "
Tommy hi-cupped frowning as the little girl looked up scared shit less.
I grabbed his hand pulling him along, shaking my head
DO NOT BRING TOMMY TO AN AMUSMENT PART WHEN DRUNK
Tommy was captivated with the lights and sounds his eyes fixating wherever there was a flash or random noise.
I smiled at how easily distracted he was and gripped his hand a little tighter. I'd have to admit he was a little adorable when he was drunk.... like a kid in a candy shop.
I was disrupted from my thoughts when I heard a loud thump. I looked around and seen Tommy on the gr
His Name is JamesHis Name is James4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
His Name is James
I had a baby inside of me,
Of only ten weeks young.
It stole my heart and all my love,
But its time on earth was done.
Sacred and lonely in my room,
I bled and cramped and cried.
The next day's scan showed a still heart;
At ten weeks my baby died.
I cursed God for His hand in that,
For how can I mourn one without a name?
But God stuck by me throughout the hurt,
He says it was a boy I call him James.