The Little Girl BlinkedThe little girl blinked and he was gone
Unsure if he was ever really there
But she knew that something had inspired her
To do things she wouldn’t normally dare
A teardrop too many he once told her
Had brought him from the shadows of her mind
As those around her began to wander
Across her imagination's fine line
But now he seemed to have walked away
As she found the life she had long sought
He slowly drifted back to the shadows
From her notebook and her beautiful thoughts
And the fools around her carried the spades
Burying him with her imagination
With an epitaph etched on a tombstone
‘Here lies my potential for creation’
Though he never existed beyond her thoughts
He was as real as a chrysalis on a tree
The butterfly perhaps was her freedom
The caterpillar was her memories
But she still sees his face in the reflection
Of her brown eyes in the cracked mirror
Knowing that he is alive and well
And is always going to be with her
People never understand reality
We are just
Dear Daddy's GirlDear Naive 15,Dear Daddy's Girl2 years ago in Adult More Like This
You're ignorant as Hell.
You dress in baggy blue jeans, wear an oversized hoodie every day, and never let your hair down. Students at school, and even your mom, think you're gay… and you don't even know.
All of your classmates blame you for a burn book that circulated after that Mean Girls movie. Everyone thinks you're a jealous bitch and secretly they mock you. How can you not see that?
Your teachers are all positive that you cut yourself and that you're always on drugs. Even now you have no idea why they ask you to take your jacket off during class. Could it be that you always wear long sleeves?
It's okay, sweetheart. I had to find out the hard way, too.
Right now you're probably wishing your dad was home. He's the only one that will read your stories and tell you how creative you are. You don't have to beg him to watch movies with you, and he'll listen to your favorite songs without calling you suicidal. Right now, living wi
Dear Future Self,Dear Future Self,2 years ago in Teen More Like This
Dear Future Me,
I bet you weren't expecting a letter from your past self, were you?
Well, you probably were, considering we're the same person and
you'd have to know I was writing you a letter since you wrote it in the
past so I guess you know already what's in this letter, right? Do I even
need to write it? If I don't write it… will that set off a chain of events
that lead to the you who won't read this being someone completely different!?
I've watched 'Back to the Future' far too many times.
Well, I'm going to write it. I guess I can't offer you infinite insight
about your future since I'm writing forward as opposed to back, and I
don't know what the future is going to be like, but I want to reiterate
a couple of things for you that might be weathered by time.
Alrighty, for starters:
a) Zombies will always be awesome. Forever and always. Don't lose your love for the genre, buddy.
b) There's always time. When it comes to projects, the less of it you have, t
Dear Teen me17th November 2012Dear Teen me2 years ago in Adult More Like This
Dear Teen SMSK,
How are you… ah, but I know the answer already. "Fine, I guess" wasn't it? You never strayed from those three words as a retort and you taught me so as well. I know you don't have time to read a letter. You have important ventures to take care of and while I don't deny them being important, just take a moment to read through, since I know that later on, you shall have all the time and though, being who we are, you shall say "I don't regret it", I can guarantee this letter shall nudge your curiosity till eternity. You are young, you will have far more important ventures.
You probably weren't expecting me to write to you, but now that you have received this letter and realized who it is from, you must be brimming with anticipation over the eloquence you might witness. Old habits still force me into verbose literature but time forced it to settle on a borderline so don't expect much from me. You probably are still in that effusive stage.
You know, your t
Dear Teen MeDear Teen Me,Dear Teen Me2 years ago in Adult More Like This
Yes, you there.
You in the horn-rimmed glasses in your stupid millwheel hat. You knew you’d look totally dumb wearing that to a carnival party, didn’t you? And now you sit there hating the music, hating the people who dragged you there, hating your hair, your figure, your baggy tapered jeans and most of all your glasses. Yes, I know all that. I remember the whole damn evening, when they seemed to play nothing but Salt’n’Pepa, Rozalla and KLF. What did you think they’d play, Paul McCartney, or Elvis Costello? What did you expect the boys would do – would they suddenly notice you with that millwheel hat when they never noticed you before? I bet they noticed the hat, I’ll give you that. It's probably one of the things that makes them give you such a wide berth. Who’d snog someone who looks as if she’s ten? And be honest, do you really want to have someone shoving his tongue past your tonsils, the way they’re doing i
Typing Makes Me Sound BusyTyping Makes Me Sound Busy3 years ago in Create a Story Contest More Like This
A young woman named Gerta loved making art, and practiced sculpting all day long to become the very best in all her town. But one day, she was completely stumped. She looked around her room, full of art pieces featuring mystical tortoises, sci-fi landscapes of a futuristic Titan Tower, and a portrait of Anne Frank that looked so real, you could start a conversation with it. But nothing inspired her. Had she really created everything there was to create? Depressed, she looked out her window, and made a wish on a nearby Pizza Hut for inspiration to return to her. The next morning, she sprung out of bed, and used her skill in sculpting to create the most beautiful deviation depicting lesbians recycling old toiletries anyone had ever seen. That night, she shouted out the window, "Thanks, Pizza Hut!"
dear teen meDear Sarah,dear teen me2 years ago in Adult More Like This
Remember that time you tried to top yourself by hiding under the covers? That was hilarious. I remember you tugging at the edges of the blanket and praying, without a shred of scientific evidence, that the lack of oxygen would be enough to kill you. You sat under there for something like fifteen minutes before you gave up and went to make a sandwich. But while you were under there, choking a little on your pillow because you never washed your sheets, I remember you thought someone was watching. Someone who understood your suffering. Someone who understood you.
Kid, that was me. And I've got two words for you: man up. Life can get a whole lot harder than this. Before too much longer, it's going to. And by the time you get to my age, you're going to be glad.
Why were you
The PossibilitiesI walked into my shrink's (I know she doesn't like to be called that, but I wouldn't let Dr. Kennedy brainwash me) office, and took my seat in the coffee brown couch in front of her desk. My hair was a wreck, I hadn't washed it in a week and the tangles just wouldn't come out. I knew that I looked awful. I also knew that she wanted to ask about my current condition. I could just tell it by the glint in her eyes that she wanted to ask badly.The Possibilities5 years ago in Written Entries More Like This
"I don't know." I said.
"Don't know what?"
"I just. Don't know." to be truthfully honest my stomach was churning at the thought of telling her. I could almost feel it coming up like word vomit pushing its way up my throat.
I couldn't bare the silence or the patronizing look on her face, so my eyes started to meander around the room. I've always meant to ask if she had actually read all of the books or if she just wanted to impress people. One time when she left the office for a minute I skimmed through one of the books. All hocus pocus and magic inc
Dear Teen MeDear Adolescent Self,Dear Teen Me2 years ago in Adult More Like This
I know, everything sucks and you don't want to hear from some lame-ass old person. Lame-ass old people try to tell you things like this all the time, but they're just stupid old people that can't possibly understand. You don't respect me because I'm not in a band, I don't have black hair, and I don't look awesome. I don't write screamey songs that speak to your weasley black soul, nor am I Tim Burton or Freddie Mercury. I get it, past self. I get it. Frankly, I don't want to hear things from me either most of the time. As lame as I may be, just hear me out for a minute.
There's this thing you should really, really try, and it's called being happy. No, I'm not high. Yes, this is really quite terrible and hokey. Shut up and stop judging me for a minute, I'm trying to help you, you little twonk. Also, start thinking of absurd insults now, it will help you in the long run.
As I was SAYING, you spend far too much time and effort on being miserable. Part of it is the ho