What is Writing?Writing.What is Writing?2 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
What is writing? To be perfectly honest here, I'm pretty sure there isn't, and never will be, a correct definition for this word. For some, writing is breathtaking and stupendous, for others it can be horrifying, blood curdling, well, at least to an extent. For me? I like to think of it as expression, as you, as me, as a manipulation as everything.
'Why?' You probably ask inquisitively, with a fair amount of confusion on your face.
Well child, I'll tell you why.
Writing it's my passion. No doubt about it. If I'm sorrowful, I write. If I'm furious, I write. And yes, you guessed it. If I'm as jubilant as a child licking an ice cream cone I write. Those feelings, sorrow, furiousness, jubilance, they all show through my writing. You can tell by the words I use, the things I force my character to do, the scenes I create. In fact, I find it quite funny when I look at all the characters I've ever made. Every single character is some type of variation of me. Everythi
Ninety percentHe is about sixty percent dead. Maybe seventy percent, it’s hard to tell.Ninety percent2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
His long arms hang loosely on his shoulders and his lips are cracked, chewed. His damaged blue eyes lifelessly scan the book that lies on the table in front of him. Even though so numb and cold, his eyes don’t fail to amaze the people that stare at him curiously. They have a fascinating sparkle and are filled with wonders, but it’s easy to see that soon the power will fade. With time he collects scars. And with those scars, his life begins to leak and disappear down the rusted drain.
His handsome face is hidden underneath dark shadows, gaunt cheekbones, and much too pale skin. His callused hands have scars across the knuckles and bruises line the side of his neck. He taps his foot, tap, tap, tap. Pause. He looks up for a second and the girl across the room catches his eyes. He averts her gaze and turns back to his book anxiously. Tap, tap, tap.
Study his long dark lashes, the effor
She's Gone He just sat there.She's Gone2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
And he waited.
One, two, three, four, and then five days went by, and he hardly moved. Every day I took a walk, every day I saw him, and every day he sat on an old crooked wooden bench, a bottle of booze in hand and a gloomy expression crossed his face.
The bench sat across my house, and most of the time when I peered out the blinds of my windows he was still there. Every once in a while he'd leave, which told me he was actually alive, but for the most part, he stayed planted on that unstable bench, and I'm pretty sure that the bottle of booze he held didn't actually have any booze in it.
Every time I looked at him, my mind was plagued with the question:
Who are you?
For some reason, I felt drawn to talk to him he was interesting. Tan, tall, slim yet muscular with a moderate amount of freckles, he had light brown hair that was slightly messy and fell over his forehead. He even had facial hair, well scruff, he obviously hadn't shaved in days, an
Years in her eyes Every birthday she wakes up early; and with her intimate diary and a pen she gaily trudges up a green hill - a fifteen-minute walk from where she lives. Under the one solemnly standing, big old tree there she sits down. It is the usual time she looked back at a year passed. A year torn between rapture and grief; hours of anxiety, and moments of relief; depressing falls, and soaring spirits. A year where there were chapters stained with the loss of the ones we loved, and others ornamented with such time we had with wonderful friends, and rimmed with rather great acquaintances.Years in her eyes1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
This year the view from the top was overwhelmingly breath-taking that she'd to contemplate the beauty of nature for some time; and after taking few last glimpses of the gently bright orange disc, before it was far too unbearable to be an object for her delicate vitreous eyes, she went to her old seat. As she opened her diary, the morning breeze softly rustled stirring the withered leaves
Story of a lying girlThat morning, the sun rose for the fourth time. The vastness of the unfamiliar forest weighted down on her aching shoulders. Back at day one, she discovered that every path looped back to an oak tree. It stood tall in the center of a clearing, much like a beacon of some kind. Still, she thought, if she ended up in this place, then there had to be some way out. It was simply a matter of uncovering the exit.Story of a lying girl2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Attempt after attempt escape failed, and the girl found herself back at this tree once more. With a sigh she rested her back against it. The air tasted of a sleepless summer night; hopeless and warm. The feeling of being stuck in time. Abandonment. It was a feeling that stayed with her, rooted within her heart. You're on your own, is what she told herself these days. It'll be okay. Just gotta keep on going. There is no other way but ahead.
She looked up at the rosy sky. Solitude let to thinking, and thinking revealed old wounds that she knew would open again once she nu
HeyHi.Hey8 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
This is kind of awkward but...
will you be my first?
The first one to
hold me tight like
he never wants to let me go
The first one to
make me want to believe
that someone can actually promise
The first one to
interlock his fingers with mine
gaze into my eyes
smile a little smile and say
"hi", quiet and glad
The first one to
make me blush with just a gaze
make me find out what it means
to have my heart skip a beat
annoy me in a way
that makes me want to capture this moment
The first one to
become the other half
of the memory of the first time
I pressed my lips against yours
and we discovered what
a kiss tastes like
And maybe you won't
be the last one to
hold onto a piece of my heart
Maybe you'll leave me behind
with only the memory of your arms and lips
a ghost of your warmth
following tears making their way down my cheeks
to lips tasting of salt instead of a kiss
you won't be the last one
will you be the first one?
Hong Kong x Reader - Happy Birthday! Midnight WalkHong Kong x Reader - Happy Birthday! Midnight Walk3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"The road outside my house is paved with good intentions~!" You sang to the music that blared in your ear as you walked down the empty sidewalk. "Hired a construction crew, 'cuz its hell on engine!"
You had a random breakdown, and then a huge headache, so to give yourself some time to cool off, you took a walk. Sighing to yourself, you put your iPod on pause. Just listening to the sounds of nature should help, you thought as your massage your left temple slightly. Yes, the sounds of the wind, the crickets chirping, and your best friend, Kaoru, shouting your name. . .
WAIT . . .WHAT THE HELL!?!
You whipped your head around, [h/c] locks flying around you. Seeing the Asian ten running towards you made you blush a little. The dim light of the moon framing his face perfectly.
"Hey, Kaoru. . . Why are you out so late?" It was close to midnight and it was pretty cold. You were only wearing a thin T-shirt and pajama pants, but didn't notice the temperature till now.
"I should be asking you tha
Blind, Deaf, and Dumb.She was blind to his suffering, he was deaf to her cries, and they were both dumb for not speaking sooner.Blind, Deaf, and Dumb.6 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
D a r k n e s s .
Every time she tried to look ahead, to hope, she was greeted with an overwhelming darkness. The second she began to believe that she’d finally brought some good into this world, they were snatched from her by death and time. The first who she had to slaughter. The second who was sent to the slaughter. Then, separated for all eternity from the two children who were the greatest good she could have ever hoped to bring into this world.
There was nothing left of her but a hollowed shell, broken, and cracked along the edges.
To return to a place filled with light only blinded her; turning her head to the ground where the only comfort could be found. An invisible weight dragged down her very being. Head bent, shoulders sagged, she could only slump into
Warriors: A New Clan inside the Forest *Chapter 1*Warriors: A New Clan inside the Forest *Chapter 1*2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I ran as fast as my paws could take me, I had assembled many cats across the forest, some rogue, some lonerseven some kittypets.
"Everyone hurry, we cannot waist time!" We were in a rush due to the fact our leader, the creator of this new clan, was a mixture of both wise yet stern enough to let his cats die.
"Were coming as fast as possible, Icestorm!" I looked behind to see who spoke, it was little Nightshade.
"I know, but if we fall of our time limit Talonstar will make sure we all pay."
There was a small sigh from Nightshade as we continued on. I looked forward and quickly darted to the right, as I saw an approaching tree. Nightshade and I were the only ones in the handful of cats who knew how Talonstar was. The others were new cats, coming to join. To other clans we were small, but Talonstar said once we earn enough cats we will thrive threw the forest and the Clans will know our names. We are called SmokeClan. I dashed once more, reaching an entrance in which was c