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
on growing upit will happen like this;on growing up1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
one day you will be so tired of yourself and the rolling days and the sleepless nights, and you've never liked coffee before but you'll take it and you'll mix in four sugars and you'll wince with every sip but you'll drink it all. then each step is a little lighter, and the mornings a little less cold and suddenly you'll realise you've forgotten what it felt like to just be awake all by yourself.
and one day you'll cry at school and all the people walking past won't stop and your friends won't have the right words like they used to. you'll sit and you'll shake until your tears have bled you of everything that you've got, and suddenly you'll realise you don't even have the energy to be sad anymore. and you'll go home with tear streaked cheeks and your mother won't ask you what's wrong and you'll go to bed and you'll realise that maybe there's more comfort in darkness and silence than you've ever known before.
it will be the weekend and you'll come home alone an
I only exist in the past.Once upon a time, I filled novels with my thoughts, cementing myself into the binding of books, the spiral bound pages beneath my bed. But time passes, my hair has grown, my handwriting has changed, and I've lost a piece of myself.I only exist in the past.11 months ago in Emotional More Like This
The moon eyed boy tells me that he loves me, but I've fallen out of love with life, and some skills, you can't relearn. I don't recognize the sound of my own voice anymore and my old words catch in my throat like a beautiful lie from centuries past.
For the first time, I am the girl I always wanted to be, apathetic and unafraid. But girls like me don't hide at night, stitching their souls into patches of their skin while the moon makes it's way across the sky. It's hard to be fearless when you let fear take you, grab you by the hand and whisper through the darkness.
But late at night, when the summer sky is swallowing us and we are more than happy to be consumed, allowing the dark silence to wipe our slates clean, I find myself missing the girl with the sun
Socially Acceptable LyingHi there.Socially Acceptable Lying10 months ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
You don’t know me. That’s okay, I don’t really either, I’ve come to accept that along with everyone who knows me. It’s especially weird when someone meets me for the first time and I’m wearing a sweater vest and poring over that math textbook and then the next day they see me and I’m in that short ruffled black skirt with the pink fishnet gloves. I'm the queen of whiplash and indecision.
I’m here to audition. Again. Well, again, I say—it’s not really again, not for you, because I’ve never auditioned with you before. I’ve auditioned with other people. Thirteen of them.
The first twelve were voice-acting casters and I almost got a role in two of them but then they were canceled at the last minute because they lost their animator. Actually, the second one just plain got rid of the character, but the first reason is the one I tell people.
The last one was a director, a real live director, and I st
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.5 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
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 Following7 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
What is Democratic Socialism?What is Democratic Socialism?2 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Democratic socialists believe that both the economy and society should be run democraticallyto meet public needs, not to make profits for a few. To achieve a more just society, many structures of our government and economy must be radically transformed through greater economic and social democracy so that ordinary Americans can participate in the many decisions that affect our lives. Democracy and socialism go hand in hand. All over the world, wherever the idea of democracy has taken root, the vision of socialism has taken root as welleverywhere but in the United States. Because of this, many false ideas about socialism have developed in the US. With this pamphlet, we hope to answer some of your questions about socialism.
Doesn't socialism mean that the government will own and run everything?
Democratic socialists do not want to create an all-powerful government bureaucracy. But we do not want big corporate bureaucracies to control
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 downUntitled9 months ago in Philosophical More Like This
Definition"Define yourself in one word."Definition9 months ago in Philosophical More Like This
The Visitor From Curtisville--Ch. 4 Past HistoryThe Visitor From Curtisville--Ch. 4 Past History2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Chapter 4--Past History
A herd of twenty licorn glided out of the surrounding forest, spiral horns and fluffy silvery hides glinting in the moonlight as they clattered across the cobblestone streets. They splashed in and out of a shallow creek that meandered through the front yard of one of stately townhouse, throwing up liquid moonbeams from their flying deer-like hooves. Finally growing weary of their wild games, they broke up into small groups, wandering up the hedge bordered streets to graze on lawn grasses and clover. Suddenly one of the licorn snorted, as a sickly oily odor filled its delicate nostrils. Its mane bristled all the way down its spine as the scent awoke a deep primal fear. Others soon sensed it too and panicked, and the whole herd quickly turned and vanished into the trees as silently as they had appeared.
Lolly Mcclaren's stride slowed as she made her way down the main stree
Call It LoveI have to admit that I've never much relished the irony.Call It Love2 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“Love child” was their polite euphemism. Though I rarely heard it, I knew that the phrase was used to describe me, when I wasn't close enough to listen. An improvement, you might think, on “bastard” ?
Depending upon whether you prefer to be patronised or denounced. Either form of words confirmed my status. I had been pre-judged. Society had formed its consensus long before the time came for my mother to suffer the pangs of birth.
Mother: such a resonant title! Yet what was my mother but a senseless scrap of a girl, who hadn't had the wit to keep her legs crossed, as good girls should always do. She had taken her interpretation of the phrase “in service” to its outer limits; appreciated, no doubt, at the time, until “before” became “after”. After birth, that's me. After and disowned by the dashing hero,who could easily dismiss the “wild oats”
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 Rain7 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
Mah-Jong Sometimes my father would get temporary jobs decorating old lady’s houses within the area of our small harbour side town. He would come home speckled and cheerfully display his work jeans to me; “the sign of a hard day’s work”. He felt proud of the various shades of magnolia that repurposed what once was blue. At times like this, when I got home from school the house would be empty. At first I was delighted to have space for myself, I played Spice Girls loudly on my white cassette player or watched Pokémon on T.V. Eventually the novelty wore off, and when I’d come home to find Dad gone for work I would go truffling, snout in my parents papers to find secrets.Mah-Jong1 week ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
When I was ten I discovered the Mah-jong set. It lay in a small black briefcase-like box, unremarkable but it resembled other boxes in which I’d been able to paw through my mother’s old broken necklaces and pinless broaches so naturally I opened
romance.I.romance.7 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The daisies burned in the sunlight. His hair fell into his eyes as the long grass swallowed him, devoured his bones. From his outstretched hands grew wildflowers, their pollen pooling in his palms.
The sweet air seemed to choke me as I lifted my voice to the sky.
"It's all right. I don't mind," he replied, eyes drifting into the haze of summer.
The day wore on.
His fingers scraped the kitchen table. I stole a furtive glance at their shadows. The evening entered, pale and lovely, like a ghostly sculpture, lightly dusted with twilight.
"Will you pay for it?"
"It can be fixed."
"No, it can't. Look at it." There were more shards than the fragments of sunlight scattered across the floor.
"All things can be fixed. Did you try?"
My heartbeat sped up and I remembered his foot on the accelerator, the rush of the landscape as it flew on the wind, the singing of the wheels against the tarmac. In the kitchen, the phone rang. It appeared that nobody was going to answer it.
"How deep is
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.
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 mistake10 months 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 relationship4 months ago in Philosophical More Like This
Different but equal
His MistakeHe bought flowers for our date, but left them at his girlfriend’s.His Mistake4 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
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 Fury11 months ago in Emotional More Like This
Morning dawns cold, clear, a watery gold. You are gone.
Sticks and StonesThey say words can never hurt you.Sticks and Stones3 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Silence does a better job.