Living with Manic DepressionJanuary 25, 2013Living with Manic Depression3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I'm dating this because I want to be able to look back on it in the future to see if anything has changed for better or for worse. I know there are a lot of you who don't know what's going on with me, or don't quite understand it, but that's why I'm writing this. Sometimes you'll ask yourself, "why did Reitanna say this?" or "why does Reitanna feel so down?" "What happened to Reitanna?" Well, I'm about to tell you in length what is going on. People who read this who have the same thing will understand completely. People with nothing like it will be confused and sort of scared. It's a natural feeling. But after everything, I'm not ashamed to admit that I have Manic Depressive Disorder.
Manic Depression and Bipolar Disorder are the same thing. However, I like to refer to it as Manic Depressive Disorder because a lot of times, people (including me) will use the word "bipolar" as a joke, like when I say, "the weather in Southern California is almost as bipolar as I am." Wh
My Upcoming Gumball Movie ideaMy Upcoming Gumball Movie idea3 years ago in Comedy More Like This
This is a Movie idea that focuses on Darwin. You know how Darwin was once a regular goldfish until he sprouted legs and talk. Well i was thinking at the pet store they got him from had Darwin's parents in there and they sprouted legs and talk. They come to the Watterson house and take Darwin away as there legal guardians. Gumball decides to follow them and see how Darwin does with them.
The Library PlotMy master is a wizard of some repute; anyone could tell you that simply by observing his library. Even if you had never seen his face before, seen him strut about in his fancy embroidered robes and pointed wizard hat (which went out of style ages ago), you would know he was a wizard if you perused the books he has collected. His private library is a font of knowledge, a den of arcane secrets passed down through generations of sorcerers, savants, mystics and soothsayers. Here, scribed on papers bound in leather, cloth and dragonhide, are all the tricks of the trade my master plies.The Library Plot4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
And it is here, in his library, that I spend the majority of my time these days, plotting his downfall.
Oh, it's not like my master has ever treated me unkindly. Quite the opposite: he took me into his home when I was alone, a poor sad victim of the streets. He keeps me fed, offers me a place to sleep, has nothing but kind words to say to me. He gives me free reign of his household and lets me come and go as
10 Tips for Writing Science Fiction10 Tips for Writing Science Fiction10 Tips for Writing Science Fiction2 months ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Anybody Can Write a Novel
Chapter 1 “Genres” – Section 3“Sci-fi”
With Links to Supplementary Material
Continuing on our series on genres, the next major story-type that needs to be covered is Sci-fi. Sci-fi is a very strong medium for stories. But as such, it's a medium that has been turned into a mix of cliches and commercial exploitation. Today, I am going to talk about some of the strengths and failings of this genre. Note that while many (if not all) tips for one genre apply to all of the others, I will try to not repeat myself, and will try to put the tips with the genre to which they are most relevant.
Tip 1: Create an intimate story with characters that you care about, and do not feel like it has to be epic in scale.
One my most common complaints for sci-fi is that the wri
The Beggar's Gift (A Love Story)She wandered the shadows of the streets day and night, face hidden and a frayed basket in her hands. A beggar. Shunned, she became like a bit of dust in the breeze, lost among the many faceless passerby. But she would not be deterred. Her task was one worthy of determination, it was too important to be left to chance.The Beggar's Gift (A Love Story)2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
For she was not trying to get, but to give.
The beggar bore the basket before her as if it were made of spun glass and it was only her sheer will power holding it together. She offered it up to any gentlemanly face that came her way.
“Please sir, will you take this gift?”
But those few that did not pass by her wordlessly, simply gazed at it momentarily before unintelligibly muttering what she presumed to be an apology and continued on their way.
“Please sir, will you take this gift? All I ask is for one in return.”
Each day she tirelessly asked her question, hoping that one day someone would accept.
Once there was a man. He stopped, peering in the
Sparks (Zutara)Sparks (Zutara)3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Katara smiled thinking of Aang. She had loved him so, but there wasn't a spark anymore. She asked herself why that this has happened? What happened? Was there even a spark in the first place? She thought of all the times he had kissed her. The way her lips felt against his. They always quivered softly before he placed his lips on hers. He was always so nervous when it came to kissing her. As many times as he had crashed his lips on hers, one would think he'd be more confident about it. She chuckled at this. She pondered this looking out into the ocean. The calm rhythm of the waves calmed her. However, her peace was disturbed when she heard some footsteps following her. Turning around she saw someone she didn't expect.
"Zuko?" She looked away blushing, her heart was beating harder than she had experienced. Much harder than when she fought Azula, or anyone for that matter. But Zuko held no threat to her anymore, not since he had joined them back then. Zuko scratched the back of his
THE RAPE...He ripped off my cloths as I screamed and yelled "NO",THE RAPE...9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
he laid on top of me as I whispered, "please let me go"
scared as hell, shakin like a leaf on a tree,
still tryin to figure out why this is happenin to me.
He put his hand over my mouth as I tried to kick and fight,
not knowing what to do, so I drew blood with a bite.
He put a pillow over my face and pushed down with force,
he entered my love nest, with no kind of remorse.
Crying out for help, I felt so much pain,
knowing from this point on, my life would not be the same.
He's all done now, walking out the room with no shame,
this man took my virginity and didn't even know my name.
I stand up and I watch the blood run down my thighs,
confused, pissed, I can feel hatred come across my eyes.
Thirteen years old and I'm already contemplating murder,
how could he do this to me, I'm probably the same age as his daughter,
I fall down and ball up on the floor,
I want to kill this man, but I can't bring myself to walk out that door,
I lay t
All the Little Things Chp. 7All the Little Things Chp. 74 years ago in Romance More Like This
All the Little Things
"Claire!" Elli giggled with glee,"Why didn't you tell me?!"
I tilted my head,"Tell you what? Did something happen when I was gone?"
She frowned and put her hands on her hips,"You can tell me Claire! I promise to keep it secret."
"Tell you WHAT??" I said in frustration,"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Exasperated, I dropped in the comfy "waiting" chair.
Elli frantically waved her arms and the air and quickly whispered..loudly,"About you and Gray!!!"
That just confused me more,"What about us? We went to the Valley yesterday...? That's all.."
"Lumina told Popuri that she saw you and Gray asleep on each other at the Pond and Celia told us about dinner at her house?? Why didn't you tell me?!"
"I hadn't had time to yet!" I exclaimed.
revolt against human living.and here (here here) is a secret: i write only to break my own heart. because that is what humanity is all about. we love to hurt, we love to be told we'll be worth something. (we love)...revolt against human living.5 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
the thought of love
life and/and death
(anything but ourselves)
we walk around with white powder under our noses and cigarettes placed to our ugly lips. we peel our scabs until we realize just cutting open the skin is so much better. we leave loved ones because we don't bel
More Claire gives a long yawn before turning the rusted knob on her front door, a creak flitting around the darkness of her house. Without bothering to flip on a light, she hangs up her red jacket, only to be welcomed by hands pulling her waist from behind.More3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"I missed you today," the voice whispers in her ear, a sly grin following shortly after. Claire turns around, her nose banging into the fabric surrounding the auburn haired boy's chest. He's at least a foot taller than her. She goes on her tippy-toes, her lips barely coinciding with his. He crouches down a bit, helping her into a soft kiss.
"Gray... why are you in my house?" She lets her lips break away for only a second to ask her question, but Gray wants more of her.
He shoves her into the hard walls, Claire inwardly wincing. He never realizes his own strength. Recovered, she throws her arms around his neck, thumbs caressing his broad shoulders, hoisting herself onto him by wrapping her long legs onto his thighs. Gray holds
We Were Almost There: Chapter 7We Were Almost There: Chapter 73 years ago in Romance More Like This
How did it come to this?
I stood there in the shadows of the trees carrying my homemade moon dumplings. I couldn't describe what I was feelingshocked, uncomfortable, absurdly elated, and dead nervous. Even though I haven't reached the peak of the mountain, I know whose silhouette is that. One that's very familiar and dear to me.
I didn't expect him to be here.
The Moon-Viewing festival is one of the many romantic festivities in Mineral Town that falls on the thirteenth of autumn. I especially believe on this day, because for me, it's real. I'm sort of superstitious when it comes to this festival. It's said that when you go to your favorite place to view the moon in its most remarkable phase, you will view it with someone who you really love, or better yet, that person may also be your soul mate.
Well, it couldn't be that he's my .?
I sucked in air sharply, and took a step forward. He turned to look behind him, and his eyes looked a bit surprised to see me. Noneth
and can you just imaginei'm writing so many love poemsand can you just imagine6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but each word just doesn't
explain what i'm feeling
i can't believe i prefer walking under
perfect rain clouds just because
i can't bear unable to listen
to the sound of your
would you believe me if i told you that
i enjoy walking on tight-rope emotions
and meeting the destination instead
of falling will upset me?
i just can't believe you lit my heart
with a match and moist rain drops
simply won't help because somebody
told me i should let my heart keep
burning until it stops
but in my perspective it's like letting
the sun dim and washing the world
and where the hell could we feel
the sun's embracing kisses?
but i promise your presence
is like an explosion of heat
and we'll just sink in the atlantic
using our mouths to share oxygen
and maybe we can share a new theory to scientists
can we ever start a revolution?
you can the be shining sun over the world
imagine summerdays over 200 degr
Playing Catch-UpEmerging in the depths of past collisionsPlaying Catch-Up6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is a high jump of a challenge not always worth taking,
but knowing a restless soul will not be sedated
with second-guessing, a deep breath is ignored
before taking a dive in a current that tugs down
instead of pushes up, builds pressure instead
of releasing tension, and though knowing
the consequences, does all this anyway.
Recalling yesterdays and passing glances
when tomorrow calls with a siren quality, beckoning,
direction is reversed and somehow today has been skipped,
and reliving moments I was never a part of,
searching for clues to a puzzle already solved,
but for some reason, hellbent that there is a piece missing.
I've been here before, but I can't remember when.
It's never just a stroll down the lanebut a marathon
in which there is no end, because the past is continually
being made, and if I think a second in the yesteryears, it's
the rest of my life I'm trying to catch up with, now. So
forgive me in my reflections, if I don't r
Lost Control - CainDG FicHe was up again, and he was the only one. Raw was curled up in a ball, using a tree root as a pillow, mouth opened and snoring lightly, like a kitten purring. Tutor had transformed into Toto and was in a curled in a tight ball next to his furry friend, letting out a low wheezy growl every so often, his back leg twitching. Glitch was a few feet away, sprawled out in three different directions, body going one way, head going another, and arms going somewhere completely different. About every ten minutes, he would shudder a little and jerk in a different direction with a small yelp, which probably had something to do with his misfiring synapses. With all of their noises and moving around, Cain should have been more concerned, but it was something to which he'd grown accustom over the past few nights. DG was the one who truly concerned him. She always slept a ways away from the group, but not so far that she couldn't be reached in a matter of seconds. She slept in one position the entire nLost Control - CainDG Fic8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
ElectrolytesI can raise my hands into the skyElectrolytes6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And scoop down a fistful of cotton clouds
That've lusted in the thunder
And turned an ink black;
I want to pick out strings of white lightning,
Put them in a syringe
And inject volts into my veins.
Yes, Yes, and YesDarling, I have a theoryYes, Yes, and Yes6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Poetry, like humanity, was invented for love
There are other reasons and uses, of course
But all else is secondary
It is like a house, built to hold life
On concrete and wooden planks, we walk
And sure, there's furniture
And these tables and chairs and beds are important
But they are just the crutches of the every day
We could soldier on without
The poetry is the foundation
The sticks and stones
It is what will make or break us
And it is the wolf coming to blow it all away
So why do we use, use, use
Use poetry like a train station
A way to get from point A to point B
Baby, you can ride anytime
My thunderbolt over railroad tracks
Parallel like I could only dream of us being
Parallel like my lips set to apathy
Boulder-strong like my bones can only dream of being
I need to stop dreaming of the parallel of window shades
In late afternoon, on days when poetry couldn't contain my thunder
I haven't seen much sunlight since
Poetry is a staircase, an elevator
It's a car
ChessboardWhite. Black. White. Black.Chessboard6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
He stared at the chessboard in front of him. At the finely chiselled pieces, the glass figurines, some translucent, some opaque. At the tiling beneath their feet, ever-changing variants of black and white.
He stared, uncomprehendingly, yet a familiar longing stirred in his mind, a familiar urge to touch those pieces once again, to move them with the elegance and the alacrity he once possessed.
He didnt really notice the eyes on him, from outside the room, from through the blinds.
Hows his condition? Is he improving?
The doctor quizzed the nurse.
A shake of the head, a sad smile on her face. Nothing. Nothing had changed.
Does he remember? Anything? Anything at all?
Another shake of the head, in the negative.
Both doctor and nurse sighed in unison, looking at the man in the bed.
I was hoping the chessboard would stir some memories but it seems not.
He grasped the pawn, that small glass piec
the devil, you returnedmy stomach tiesthe devil, you returned6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so tight my ribcage
will explode as i
the person i thought
i loved the most has
walked away in moonlight
with an intoxicated stomach
and red sunset, beautiful
funny, i didn't expect you
to pay me a visit from the
but yet, you love me
such much more
and god hates me
my dignity and
NicknamesWe should have nicknames.Nicknames6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
It's a recurring theme, I've noticed; all the people I've known of importance have had nicknames. They've been Jakes instead of Jacobs, Mikes instead of Michaels, Alexes instead of Alexanders or Alexandras. But we don't have nicknames, no, we're just the names stamped on our birth certificates and that's what we've always been. We are John Does and Jane Does, and present ourselves that way to every person in our lives. There's no variation, you see?
But you can't force a nickname. I've wondered how sports teams churn out their nicknames so efficiently; my friends play football, and their team is full of nicknames that aren't really names. They don't make sense to someone not in on the joke. They're all names like "Candy Land" and "Monster" and "Krispies," names which have some interesting story behind them that can only be explained to strangers with a "don't ask." But we have none of that athletic prowess required to get a nickname of that caliber
AlwaysSpeak always ofAlways6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
stress and difficulties,
and find your life
stressed and difficult.
in terms of cost,
and find you've
spent a fortune.
Exert endless energy
on building defenses
and find yourself
always under attack.
Pay Attention to MEHuman beings are "social animals", and that simply means that we tend to group ourselves together. We group in large groups, and then decidedly smaller groups as we gravitate towards people that are more and more like us as individuals.Pay Attention to ME6 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
"Social" is another way of saying "attention". We all need it, from the moment we're born until the day that we die. Many refuse to ADMIT that they need it, but the fact remains, our DNA forces us to seek attention, human beings are NOT meant to be ignored, we are not meant to be alone.
Like all things, "attention" has it's good and bad sides, it's as unavoidable as the need to breathe, we seek attention even when we don't realize that we do it, just like we breathe and don't even think about it.
They do both have something else in common: while they are both unconscious acts, they both can be CONSCIOUS acts.
We hold our breath in contests, when we swim. We also hold our breath in anticipation and when we make love, these last two are UNCONSCIOUS exampl
awakening.for the first timeawakening.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
isn't like flurries
of marching ants
over a wasteland
of puckered skin
and sun burns
for the first time
knees falter into
on copper ground
threads of violet
defying the sky
for the first time
to find loopholes
in coiled muscles
and weak tendons
to break up bonds
as if not to allow
of feeble wings
for the first time
blood cells swim
in thick fluid from
noses onto lipstick
hiding the fractures
and forming ripples
in words gushing
into air until it's
time to swallow
Yelling for AttentionI speak in whispers,Yelling for Attention6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
few and far between.
I stay silent and alert
lest facing one's demean.
I go unnoticed--
neglected and unconcerned,
as if impossible
to be inferred.
But trust in yourself for once.
You have the ability to
figure everything out.
I know you do,
so please perform this rescue.
Look past words.
Maybe then you'll realize
I'm not just yelling for attention,
I'm crying from demise.