Elegon FairytaleThe water was lonely. It ran from river to river, ocean to ocean, alone. Many of the creatures that lived in the water paid it no mind, continuing on with their own life, unaware of the water's. The water decided one day to make itself some companions, someone to flow and keep company with. The water watched many humans at its rivers and oceans and created, what the water called, Ulas based off of the females. Some were made of water while others were made of scales and flesh. The Ulas made the rain and took care of the sea and river life during the day, while they played all night.Elegon Fairytale2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
One night, the air passed by the river and saw the Ulas playing and dancing along the water. The air suddenly felt lonely, just as the water had. It blew through the lands all alone and decided that it could use companions as well. The wind called them Auras. The air, like the water, designed them as female humans made of air and flowing dresses. The Auras traveled with the wind and their domain was the sky
Persephone Thesis: EssayPersephone Thesis: Essay ComponentPersephone Thesis: Essay5 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
"Happy is he among men upon earth who has seen these mysteries!
It is generally accepted among historical scholars that the cult of Demeter and Persephone, or Kore, existed in Greece and the surrounding Mediterranean islands long before the traditional Olympian gods became entrenched. Her origins are Cretan . Like Aphrodite, the mother and daughter goddess represent a matriarchal form of fertility worship in the forms of crops and nature, and through this the cycle of birth, growth and death. This myth, however, has taken hold of imaginations from its evolutions into the Eleusinian mysteries of Ancient Greece, to the paintings of Victorian Europe, to today, each with their own distinctive takes and emphases on the story. Perhaps it is the fact that we know so little about the original tale of Persephone the daughter of Demeter, goddess of fertility, snatched
Evening at The RoomHe wasn't one to leave Life waiting. Immune as he wasn't to adversity, the man dealt with it swiftly and moved on. Never did his friends see him sad. Looking back on his personal tragedies would stop his flow, and he valued time enough not to kill any of it. As a result, any thought that could lure him into grief was stored on the back of his mind. A cheerful attitude was all the world spotted; a stance he prided himself in actually feeling.Evening at The Room1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
The technique could only be effective for so long. The gloomy thoughts piled up, eventually becoming so many as to opaque the rest of his mind, threatening to take over his mood. Wasting days submerged in sorrow terrified the man. He realized the only way to move forward with Life was to stop entirely. It was time to return to The Room.
The man told his friends he’d be unable to attend that evening’s party, arguing that he was going “on a quest to find himself”; an explanation everyone, the man included, rightfully mocke
Arrive SadArrive sad at our date, dear.Arrive Sad1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Come embittered, suffering the hardest of depressions. Leave no agony at home. Bring all possible sadness to our encounter. Dust off the repressed memories, take all the sorrow you can find, hold on to those tears, and finally release it all ... only once you're with me.
My challenge begins there, honey.
The test that'll prove me worthy of being with you.
Once on the verge of emotional collapse, let the pressure of your grief bring you down. I'm dying to catch you and make you stand tall, so we see the world from the angle intended for you. Let your insecurities drown you in their lies; I'll be the air that revitalizes you with the beauty of the surface. Don't forget your fake smile, that barrier that becomes stronger the more people crash into it. At that point, I'll embrace you tightly ... and hand over the feelings you awoke in me, those that helped me destroy walls of my own. That strength which I didn't have until you entered my life, will then become
UntitledI like to lift others up because I know how awful it feels to be downUntitled10 months ago in Philosophical More Like This
Maps Not Meant For FollowingI bet you missed me when I went away. "You’ll come back," you thought. When I didn’t you bit your lip, but was sure I would make it with time. After the next day, and the day after that, the doubts started to creep in. You caught yourself sucking in a painful breath whenever you saw something of mine lying around. Bits of my life left with you would slither into your sight when you least expected it the same way the memories would swamp you if given the slightest chance.Maps Not Meant For Following8 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
When days turned into a week, you entered into a hush drunk state: eyes bleary and sore from holding back any semblance of emotion. You were quiet, but not calm. Your hands became tumultuous storms when you'd glance over at our picture, fingers becoming tidal waves as you would toss it onto the bed. You were tired, but not nearly tired enough to forget.
On its own, you would find your body shaking at the brush of your own fingers across your skin, a reminder of where I touched you last. And then you c
just say so.I learned the other day what people mean when they say that you don't stop hurting, don't stop feeling the sting of grief, you just learn to deal with it. You adjust to it and it becomes normal after a while.just say so.1 year ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
It still kicks me in the chest and I have to catch my breath. I heard your song in the supermarket Tuesday afternoon and I dropped the bread. I didn't even notice until someone started humming it and I asked myself to please not cry in the middle of the bakery aisle and at least wait until I was outside. I made it to the car. And I broke and it was hard to remember that had forgotten for so long.
But I wished it had stayed forgotten.
cause I miss you again and now I'm back where I started and feeling more defeated than ever.
His MistakeHe bought flowers for our date, but left them at his girlfriend’s.His Mistake6 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My worst mistakeI was never lucky when it comes to love. Women, for some reason, were never very fond of me maybe because I am, c'mon, a bit of a geek. In the middle of all that there was an experience the left a deep mark on me. It was during my first year of high school when I deeply fell in love with a girl. When I realized that, I came up with a little scheme for her to know it. But she was already taken and, of course, I got rejected. But still, a certain friendship began to develop between the two of us and I tried to enjoy it. But I wasn't satisfied. I wanted more. I wanted something deeper, something more serious. So I started to taunt her, making moves on her, making stupid comments. As I should have expected, the friendship turned into hate. She even attacked me a few times.My worst mistake1 year ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
In the next school year, we got separated from each other and we lost touch. It was already too late when I realized my mistake and I've never corrected it. I stopped to believe in love, I get disgusted when I hear
Love-hate relationshipLove and hateLove-hate relationship6 months ago in Philosophical More Like This
Different but equal
Little FuryThe storm throws you to my door, drenched and bloodied, god-light dimmed. The crest of the hill is underwater. You have no boots.Little Fury1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
Morning dawns cold, clear, a watery gold. You are gone.
pine cone heart. it is 9:36 on a Tuesday night. i don't know if it's still snowing, but i do know it's cold and my palms are covered in a thin layer of sweat. slowly, it eats away at my epidermis like a parasite. soon i will be nothing more than skeletal muscle and a decaying pericardium. i think this is beginning to happen already, this disintegration. it began five minutes and thirty seven seconds ago when i realized two things:pine cone heart.7 months ago in Emotional More Like This
you will never love me.
i will love you all the same.
our timelines were never meant to connect, not really. there was just that second-long contact, a chance, a lifetime in my eyes. i keep replaying that moment again and again. i don't remember what you were wearing, how your hair looked, the way your smile looked. no; all i can recall is how your skin felt on your forearm, the sound of a marker against flesh.
i realize that that is all we will be: a fleeting smile. a promise to keep in
West of the SunShe quietly touched the reverberating cymbals and sparrows descended on the drums.West of the Sun7 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Memories lay hidden inside pressed sleeves, the chilly wind brought the scent of snow.
Their dreams were pale blue against the deep greys, secrets sealed inside envelopes.
They climbed up the hill to watch the valley where the earth and sky come together.
He placed his hand on her hair, to calm down its restless flow from the past to the present.
But no matter how many snowflakes were caught in her eyelashes, all he could remember was her warmth.
She was to him a white rabbit running through the brightly lit office, a reflection of twin souls on a blue window.
With his eyes closed, he learned to predict the rain with his sixth sense.
They walked quietly while the seagulls were rushing through the breaking clouds, their white wings like sails.
The glittering blades of grass were heavy from the dew and a big oak stood in the heart of the rippling meadow.
Looking at each other by the ocean, their tear
Dear SocietyDear Society,Dear Society1 year ago in Letters More Like This
If I may be so kind, I will lead this letter by addressing your whole state of being.
Frankly, you are a hypocrite. I do not think you, in your current state, deserve to exist on this planet.
In other words? Fuck you.
This is for me. No...This is for all the boys and girls who don't feel as if they are worthy enough of love, or acceptance, or living. This is for all the boys and girls who feel as though they are nothing. This is for all the boys and girls who return home from school every day, just to sob into their pillow, for maybe being ugly, or stupid, or gay. This is for all the boys and girls around the world, who live in horror, but never get airplay of their events.
This is for us all.
In every one of my years, I have never been so upset.
You see, Society, you like to tell us that we are all beautiful, gorgeous, handsome beings! You tell us that we're smart and intelligent. You say the color of our skin does not matter. You put us in the mindset that if we work ha
eyelash. “Let's go to McDonald's. ”eyelash.8 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The car was a cloud. I don't mean that it was full of rain. It's a metaphor. Like, the car was so thick with smoke that you could stick your hand in it and feel clouds. The atmosphere. I would want to stick my hand in that. I mean, it's like the skin of humanity. I could be, like, touching humanity. Cool, right? I would do that.
Anyway, we were parked in the back of our the town's grocery store. I don't remember if we went in. We might've. But that cute boy from our school was at work there. Black hair. Oh, God, I'll always remember him. People say he's stupid, dim, even, but when you hear him talk, it's like he's a Greaser and I'm some dangerous prissy girl from the good side of town, and we're in some romance movie. But no, he's hot. Yeah. We still haven't gone, even though Jake said that like an hour ago.
Now, Jake is a guy. I mean he's a boy, yeah, but he's also a guy. Like,
Puzzles W1, D1I bought my sister a tangle of metallic rings in Leonardo Da Vinci’s castle because I wanted to prove her wrong. She had always underestimated me, saw me as a self-obsessed aspiring artist who is so wrapped up in her own ambitions that she can’t see the hurt around her. True, I don’t see the milk in the fridge when it’s in front of my eyes, and I forget my parents’ birthdays, but I do notice things.Puzzles W1, D18 months ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I notice my sister.
I notice when she stands in the middle of the room with a blank look in her eyes, or when she curls up on the couch for too many hours. I notice when she spends days locked in the bathroom playing games and solving puzzles on her phone in the bathtub.
I notice that she finishes them all, and that once she’s beaten the game, she starts over. And that’s how she looks at life: as a series of puzzles that must be solved, as a series of high scores to beat.
I’m one of her puzzles that she thinks she’s figured out. She look
Burnt OfferingsCloaked in a veil of night, I take a turn on the road of stars and diamond dust. The lights are obscured and smokescreened from my eyes, relinquishing their dazzling glow for a dull luster. I feel as though I have the power of a god, that even the celestial bodies could bend to my will. Of course, the galaxies just laugh at me.Burnt Offerings7 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Pollution from the world below industrializes into a toxic smog, choking the nebulae and ribbon streets, streaking through the cities of space. It is gritty. Diamond dipped stars have their shells eaten away by the smoke, their pores congested with the dizzying fumes. And they slip off of their regal, cosmic hold to plummet into the ugly cataclysm below. Even the supernovas can be crushed.
More and more cosmos join their filthy friends in a meteor shower of comets. One lone star remains, struggling to shine, only to produce contaminated coughs of dust. I grasp it in my gloved palm, this one final offering the universe has to give me. Perhaps I could nurture it t
i may have drowned but you, you'll burnthe water rose above my collarbone though you promised you'd help keep me on the surface.i may have drowned but you, you'll burn1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
you'd keep me less dense, less probable, less present - anything - to keep me from going under but that's just the thing about bullshit you're fed with when you go to a synagogue after spending your first night at a brothel; you hope that you've prayed enough to spit in the face of the fool who created you out of boredom when you're done defying Him.
i have learned that your words resemble the pretty little flowers he used to place in my hair and that the hands that trace the arch of my cheekbone time and again were never yours but always, always his.
i wonder if i was taken in by your fragrant yet fast fading vows; i should have known from your asphodel stature that you had never tried the fear of an eternal God for size. you are closer than Narcissus will ever be to self-obsession as you choose to repeatedly hang yourself in envy of - none other than - yourself.
and you really should know that t
Definition"Define yourself in one word."Definition10 months ago in Philosophical More Like This
/ we smile at the universe with ashes on our lips. there are boats inside of our veins. the blood is a metaphor and, hell, i can't even begin to write about her./8 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
i could tell any story. if i wanted, i could write a novel about my mother and how beautiful she was a sixteen or i could make a lighthouse a person, but i cannot tell you the color or her eyes. it's that that i don't know it; i just can't tell you. it's not a color, it's a place.
her eyes are like Chicago. there's life and lights and lakes, but there's a sadness, too. even so, it's a happy kind of sad. the kind that gives you hope.
sometimes when i'm high i think that i'm dead, because i get numb. not physically senseless, but just mentally dazed. i forget where i am. i like that. it seems sometimes like i am a place, i am all the street signs and the cracks in the road and badly painted house down the way. see the really faint dot on the map? that's me. scribb
Contained.I keep a container next to my bed,Contained.2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
and every morning when I first wake up
I'd write down my dreams on sticky-notes,
fold them and put them in the container.
At the end of every week I open it up
and look inside, I spread the notes out
on the floor and I notice that every
piece says, "you."
There's a place I go when I don't know
what to do or how to act, it's behind
my house and across the river. The tree
that we planted is still there, brimming
with beauty and still alive, unlike us,
and what we had.
I still have the letter you wrote me,
it's in my box, where I keep everything
dear to me. I would hang it on my wall next
to my bed, but I wouldn't want my mother to
see it. She would just talk ill of you.
Something that I don't ever want to hear,
because even though you left, I still look
at you and see perfection.
I've tried tying an invisible rope around the
memories of you and hanging them until they
didn't exist anymore, but the image of you
sitting on the gravel with your guit
Requiem. Outside rain plummets to the ground with all the grace of a falling leaf, Nature’s own symphony. The sound of each crystal drop diving into puddles creates music as pure and as beautiful as the notes wafting from the other room, each song competing for my full, undivided attention.Requiem.7 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I can see him from where I sit, the glass door slid to the left just enough for my sight to reach between rooms. He’s sitting up straight, his head bent to the ivory keys his fragile fingers danced across. He isn't in this world; he is somewhere far, far away. I have always wondered where his thoughts take him, somewhere where he’s happy, I hope.
The songs are always so sad, the music of his broken mind. I want to console him, but I never have been able to fully pull him from the ocean he drowns in.
I extinguish the lamp by my side and push myself to my feet. With the stealth of a cat I creep across the hall
Sticks and StonesThey say words can never hurt you.Sticks and Stones4 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Silence does a better job.
He Comes with the RainRain slides down Yesteryear Antiques' cheap stained-glass windows in lazy swirls and spirals. Tracking a drop with narrowed green eyes, Shay wrinkles her nose and steps around a haphazard stack of Life magazines. A sheaf of her thick auburn hair falls across the right half of her face. Pulling a hair tie from her wrist, she scoops the locks into a messy bun. The lights flicker, thunder rumbling. Shay glances again at the rain's path on the windows. Turning to a set of dresser drawers, she rifles through pens, paper clips, and crayola markers. A wad of teal tissue paper crinkles under her fingers and Shay pulls it from the drawer, unwrapping its contents. A pair of hand-carved bamboo chopsticks, topped with snarling dragons, roll onto her palm. She pokes them through her bun before diving back into the drawer.He Comes with the Rain8 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I could have sworn there was a--" A flashlight skips across the debris and Shay snatches it up. Grinning, she clicks the button. Clicks it again. Frustrated, her grin fading, she