I Taste Like Panic.I never do what I should.I Taste Like Panic.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Does that mean I do everything Wrong?
I tell those who ask
"Oh yes, I am very self-destructive."
After all, I'm only hurting myself.
And those I have the opportunity to save.
I figure if one were to taste me,
I would taste like panic.
No one knows what that means
But that's how I like it.
I want to throw myself in front of a car
For you. Does that make me Suicidal?
I don't tell those who have never asked,
"Oh yes, all of my smiles are real."
But somehow always appear
To lead them to it.
I believe if feelings had looks
And my legs had a view,
They would resemble fear.
No one knows what that means either.
I'm just waiting to get to the end so I can say,
With a Brave Smile, "Ah well, too late now!"
Prayer to the MoonShow me beautyPrayer to the Moon6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't get in the day
Give me hope
I lack in the sun
Give me company
as my world sleeps
Teach me silence
no one takes
Listen to words
I've never spoken
to questions answered
as much as dreams
when no one wants to see
A Comprehensive Guide to OCsSo you say you want to write an OC, but don't know where to begin? Well, here are a few tips to help you get started, and maybe help you avoid the terrible Mary Sue Trap that so many writers fall into.A Comprehensive Guide to OCs5 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
1. Create a profile for your OC, with their name, age, gender, height, weight, and other such defining characteristics, to help you flesh out how they will look. Once you do this, go back and take out any Mary Sue/Gary Stu adjectives, such as "Sapphire Blue Hair with Icy Pink Streaks" or "Emerald Green Eyes with Amber Sparkles". Everyone wants their character to be special, or easily recognizable, but this tends to backfire horribly when introduced into your story. Unless the universe you are working with has canon characters with strange hair/eye colors, stay away from the unique color approach. The same also applies to skin color, unless your character has some sort of disease, like albinism, that affects a person
Simons DiarySimons Diary2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
*You find an old book with a lot of pages missing laying on the ground It says: Simon's Diary on it. You open it and start reading.*
She left me today. I don't know why but this crown... I don't know what I said to her but she left and I don't think she'll come back...
*Pages were torn out or burned*
I found a cute little teddy bear for her today. Hopefully it'll help her move on when I'm gone...
*More pages torn*
The crown. It's driving me crazy. I can't think right.. It's making me say stuff but.. I don't know what... I-I don't want to hurt anyone especially her...
The magic is keeping me alive but.. I don't know what it made me say. I saw her frown today when I put it on.. I don't want to hurt her like I did with...*part of the page is burned*
*Pages torn or burned*
I can't escape this labyrinth I have in my mind.. The crown keeps me alive
MAGGOT- A short storyMAGGOT- A short story9 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
The boy nestled the hand grenade close to his chest . The deadly explosive felt icy cold even though the afternoon city was feverish with the summer humidity. He feared jostling it, so he walked quickly but with extreme care.
Shesh's bare feet padded as he navigated the rusting tin panels that lined the floor of this particular narrow slum alleyway. He could tell by the denseness of the air -and the smell- that he was very near the bottom levels of the many storied Sun City.
He knew they called it that because you could never see the sun this deep into the lower floors of the slums. It wasn't very clever. He figured that they just didn’t want to call it Slum City.
Cramped old apartment buildings, and scavenged bits of metal and plastic formed a rat warren of tiny overfilled dwellings and markets dozens of floors deep. Every twenty meters or so throughout Sun City, corroded water pipes and hulking bundles of cables crawled through the labyrinth like the roots of banyan tree
Five years1st YearFive years6 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
They saw me. They dont accept me. A geek. A freak. Loser.
Because Im smart, not pretty. Because Im shy not outgoing. Because I dont understand what you mean.
They said it should have stopped by now. That the other kids would move on when they realised that I wasnt going to break. I havent cried, I havent snapped.
Because Im smart enough to keep my mouth shut. Because I dont have the confidence to speak up. Because I dont understand what you mean.
Oh my god. I snapped. I hit him. I didnt want to hit him, it just became too much. The adults say it can only get better now, that Ill have earned their respect. But I know it can only get worse.
Because I broke my own rules. Because I let my temper do the talking. Because I was stupid enough to let them get to me. Because I dont understand what you mean.
They were wrong. And they w
Brony Advice: Your Questions Answered #104/05/06!Brony Advice: Your Questions Answered #104/05/06!2 years ago in Editorial More Like This
#104) Aren't bronies and furries the exact same thing? I think it's funny that so many bronies get offended when they're compared to furries. I don't see furries getting quite as offended about the comparison. Hah.
Answer: This is really the million-dollar question: are bronies and furries the same thing? The answer is, awkwardly, a little bit of both. Let's set the cards upon the table: there are all sorts of variables that come into the equation when defining exactly what a brony is. That's the first difficulty; if a brony is merely an adult watching the show, then you can't effectively argue that they're furries by definition just for doing that. If you did, then any parent watching the show with their child, or anyone who watched "Watership Down" or "The Animals of Farthing Wood" as children, or myriad other cartoons about animals, would be furries, which is ludicrous.
Just watching "Friendship is Magic" doesn't create a latent association with furries, despite what s
On Goals and SuccessHow many of us are stuck in that rut of wanting to achieve something but we cant? "I can't make a web comic because I don't have the resources," "I can't play my favorite instrument because I don't have the time," "I can't become a writer because I suck at writing." It's in my belief that the only thing getting between us and our goals is the simple word "can't." It really is that simple. Drop the n't and you have "I can make a web comic," "I can play my favorite instrument," "I can become a writer." The rest of the sentence is just excuse. When you tell yourself you can achieve a goal, that's when success occurs.On Goals and Success4 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
The Be-Do-Have Speech
I learned from a very wise professor that we often have our mindset backwards. "Have-Do-Be" we have to have something, in order to do the things we need to do, to be what we set out to be. Thus if we don't have, we can't do, and if we can't do, then we can't be. "I can't draw a comic because I don't know how." The successors in the world, reverse that th
Crying a LullabyLook at me,Crying a Lullaby6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I'm tired and worn.
If things come full circle
Will I be reborn?
Is it too late
To whisper my soul to the stars?
Maybe reaching for heaven
Is reaching too far.
The cat has its fiddle
The dish has its spoon
I'd like to run away
With the man in the moon.
The saints say to fast
But religion won't last
The world's moving past
The dice that were cast.
If there's a hell below
I'd rather not know-
It's too late to change
Too hard to lose rage.
So here I am
Me, myself and I
And I cry myself a lullaby.
One summer nightyour kissOne summer night1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
it burned like cigarettes
against my lips
your hands traced
outlines of my cheeks
on my neck
on my hips
flutter of your eyelashes
against my cheeks
River of TimeTick tock,River of Time6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Goes the clock,
To me, it's music,
Sounds like rock.
The flowers weep,
As banshees sing,
But all shall bow,
And praise their king.
Time slips away,
But Father Time,
Is here to stay.
It doesn't matter.
It matters the most.
But no one sees,
They're so engrossed.
Wind blows the leaves,
They leave us for dead.
Time moves on,
Why can't I shake,
This feeling of dread?
Don't shake your head,
It's only rhyme.
We're just droplets,
In this river of time.
what to do- Art VS Parentswhat to do- Art VS Parents5 years ago in Letters More Like This
Art career VS Parents is actually a very very common issue in many different countries.
First of all, you are not alone in this struggle, many many people are on the same boat sharing the same problem, including your parents.
A lot of parents tend to think doing art makes you starve, and you will be poor all your life if you want to become an artist. They are dead set on "a certain career means more money therefore means more steady life"
Truth is... whatever that popular career is... it may become less popular later because of so many people going into the field, thus lowering the demand. The supply and demand principle applies to all fields, jobs market changes.
OK. To start with the conversation... Lets make sure we know what they think that an "art career" is~~~
Research and Communicate:
Usually they don't know ANYTHING about that career you want to go into, usually the best way to go about it is research how much "salary" you will get paid with doing a certain job
The Short Tale of Painting LunaThe Short Tale of Painting Luna2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"When you think you lost your colours
and all you see is white and black.
I can always be found in the darkest hours
and I will paint your moon back.
I will paint a moon just for you.
So you can see all the colours that shine for you."
Invisible LoverInvisible LoverInvisible Lover7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
By Ryan Ashley
My true love, whom I cannot see,
Lives in my senses, and is always with me
I smell her scent in the flowers and grass
I taste her when I eat something sweet
I feel her touch in the warm summer wind; a passionate heat
I feel her longing on the cold East breeze
Her face is the rising sun
I hear her cries in the voice of birds; her words, the wind in the trees
I hear her in my favorite songs; the chords and notes, her embrace
The drums are the beat of our hearts, which in our closeness race
But when the world is asleep, with not a sound around
My love leaves me. Nowhere to be found
Loneliness grips me, for by realitys cruel decree
I cannot see my love and she cant see me.
Chow MeinFor me the turning pointChow Mein2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
was standing in a Chinese takeaway
staring listlessly at the adverts
whilst my mother chose between Chow Meins.
The little card reading
"Industrial cleaning, including suicides"
I remember gulping back tears
when I looked at my mum and wondered
should I take the card for her?
Character Creation TutorialCharacter Creation TutorialCharacter Creation Tutorial6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
How to effectively develop a realistic and likable character for novels and fanfiction.
Table of Contents:
I. A Name
II. Physical Attributes
III. Style & Personality
It can be assumed that developing a plot and storyline is self explanatory. If not, you can find another tutorial for that. This tutorial will focus primarily on the thought-process of creating new characters with depth.
I. A name is the first step. Try to match the character to their name, or somehow integrate the character's name into the storyline or progression of the character's maturity and personality. For example, a character who is dark and moody would probably not be named Star unless this contradiction holds some meaning in the story. (In a comedy it would have a nice effect, but in a drama or serious story, not so much).
If you can't think of a name you can go to places like babynames.com or google for assistance
LongingI'm walking a wire, Trying not to fall,Longing6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Dragging myself across holy ground,
Through a field of mines I crawl.
The music playing in my head,
Compels me to continue on,
I crawl through the valley of the dead,
Of lost souls, and shattered dreams,
I hear the rhythm in my heart,
I'm driven on by these haunting screams.
Tell me where to go, Tell me what to do,
My heart and soul, They long for you.
Tell me where to look, Tell me what I'll find,
I swear I'd wait until the end of time,
If I could just see your face again.
I'm running in the dark, Trying not to fall,
I'm reading a letter in the dead of night,
Written in a demon's scrawl.
The music playing in my head,
Makes me long for your love,
And soon, this feeling of terrible dread,
Will have fled from my dreams.
I hear the rhythm of your heart,
And its closer than it seems.
Let Me GoThese inner feelings,Let Me Go6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I can't restrain,
Like a hurricane,
A torrent of rain,
But I'm drawn,
Like a moth to the flame,
And in the end,
It's always the same.
I look into your face,
Try to hide the pain,
You're pretending again,
I'm Going insane,
But still I come,
Back for more,
Again I'm hurt,
Time to settle the score.
But still I can't escape.
You don't care,
Why do you care,
If I'm still there?
Let me go,
I hope you know,
You're breaking me,
Let me go!
The Hall of DavidThe Hall of David6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The Hall of David
The great Hall of David,
Is truly to behold,
Full of wondrous things,
That so magically unfold.
Outside there can be seen,
A garden flowing red,
Blooming more splendorous then,
The worlds whole flowerbed.
Purely lighted rays,
Spilling from the threshold.
Beautifully stands he there,
In crimson, silver and gold.
Inside there can be seen,
Treasures beyond compare,
But none can measure up,
To that soul standing there.
He is quite a man,
Made of honor very bold,
Giving generous warmth,
Unto the bitter cold.
The heavens give way,
Raining stars upon the sand.
The entire Universe is held,
In the palm of his hand.
In a place beyond the door,
The creation can be seen,
Sacrificing tears of blood,
With every radiant beam.
Held within this realm,
Is a gift from high above,
In the form of a shining star,
Spreading friendship and love.
That greatest gift of all,
Is given to those who live,
In this - his sanctuary,
The beloved Hall of David.
Phoenix SonDear Child, my Son,Phoenix Son8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
please rise from the ashes and give us the sun,
the day cannot be brighter still?
Please rise and do as you will,
soar the skies
where they hear your cries,
your daunting voice
and your flaming choice,
whether your heart be of ice,
as cold as the ocean,
as calm as the wind,
as dangerous as snow...
Whether your heart be of fire,
burning eternally, again
the love for your kin
a bright flame where ever you may show,
whether it be of thunder,
a sparking energy to be tamed
by only those you have not yet seen,
what will guide you, only the thunder and clouds will know.
So, my son, my gifted one,
the one known by everyone,
my guiding star,
spread your enormous wings and guide us far!
Created: © 26/04/07 David Tru'stone
DoorsWinter snow is deepening —Doors4 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Old cats dream of doors to spring.
Curled against the aching cold...
I wonder when we all got old.