I'm (not) okay!Everyone sometime in their life is asked, "Are you okay?" And of course, we always give the standard answer of, "Yeah, I'm fine!"I'm (not) okay!1 month ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Because it is what we were taught to do. No one wants to hear "No, I'm not." because then what are we to do? We expect that same answer, so when it does not come, we fidget, we get awkward, we stutter, we don't know what to say.
And truthfully, we really don't.
How can we fix a problem we've never been met before? When everyone says they're "Just fine.", how do others expect us to react when the answer is the opposite? That's why we always say we're "Just fine." because we don't know. We're afraid. We're afraid of opening up to others and comforting others. It's not that we can't, but really, what can we do? Give a hug, get some chocolate, be there? That's a little hard to do nowadays.
Most of today's generation is stuck in front of a computer screen, with most of their friends half way around the world. How do you expect us to comfort you
BlackIt began in the quietest hours of the night. Granny was snoring up a storm, her bed creaking with each breath and twitch of her bigness. That's always the first thing I remember, thinking back. She always snored in the same way Pappy revved up the engines of his prized Cadillac. Loud, proud, and never ending.Black2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I s'pose I should start with what happened before hand. Nothing will make sense if I don't. It don't make no sense anyhow, but the story won't be right if I don't start before everything got bad.
So we were in the market, Granny and I. We go every Sunday while my parents and siblings are at praise and worship with most of the rest of the town. We get all the best stuff that way without havin to elbow our way through the hordes of people doin their last minute shoppin for Sunday dinner. Granny always said that the best book couldn't keep her from making Sunday dinner, and no man in the sky gonna keep her from her shoppin.
"Jerry, you got them apples for me?" Grann
Don't Give me a Reason to Sell My SoulDon't give me a reason to sell my soul, she should have said.Don't Give me a Reason to Sell My Soul3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Instead, she just stared at the man on the screen in front of her, the man with his long, drooping skin, tired eyes, haggard face and balding head. He was hardly the admiral we had once known. She said "I don't have any desire to do it," and then quickly, "but I'll follow my orders, if you give them to me."
There was fright in her eyes. She gripped the edges of the captain's chair and bit her cheek, fighting off inevitable tears. But not here. She couldn't cry now. People relied on her to be strong. What people she wasn’t sure, but someone, somewhere, surely. She had to believe that.
"Those are your orders," the man said, sinking heavily into his chair. "I trust you'll carry them out."
She snapped off communications with ill-hid despair. Her blonde hair, thin and almost colorless, hung around her face like a fallen halo, fading with every sin. Her lips were tight, her cheeks drawn, and her eyes stared out of bru
Literal Futurist FeministEvery so often, humans make an innovation which changes their world forever. Fire, steel and computers are obvious examples of technological innovations. Equally important to technology are ideas which innovate people socially. Galileo's idea that the earth revolved around the sun or the American Founding Fathers' ideas about how government should be run are among numerous other examples. These ideas, often controversial and even revolutionary for their time, tended to require groups of people or movements to keep such ideas from being destroyed before they could be shared. The feminist movement has been both praised and scorned for their efforts to preserve and share numerous ideas to varying degrees. In particular, in her "Feminist Manifesto," Mina Loy helped to share the idea that gender roles were highly constrictive on both sexes with a rather remarkable insight for how things ultimately turned out.Literal Futurist Feminist2 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
According to Loy, traditional gender roles are no longer valid in modern society.
Sonnet 4 for my grandmotherSonnet 42 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Her flowers, softly pressed against her palm,
have lost their quiet gift of sunlit breath
in lieu of gentle summer's song, this psalm
hushed now by looming mute of living death.
The owl's lonely mating cry rings out
against the fjord today, and still I find
her shorn cloth adorning my clouded route
home. Roughly textured skin of night confined
my skin; however, the small trestles built
from earth to hidden light behind the moon
guide me to her in sleep. Her petals lilt
toward my lap, hold me until the room
becomes a slowing top. They fall the way
she falls. The dark blends calmly into gray.
A Reason to LiveIf only she had the guts to actually do it, to just leap among the cold waves and sink in death among the fish. She breathed in the smell and taste of saltwater, and water sprays hit her face, neck, and chest. She shivered slightly in the breeze from the waves, but she wasn’t really bothered by the chill. What weighed on her mind was something much deeper than the weather.A Reason to Live2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
A pang of apprehension penetrated her heart as she envisioned her body being plunged into the water and weighted down by the strong waves. She thought about what it would be like to gulp in mouthful after mouthful of water, choking and never feeling any relief, but she didn’t think the pain could be any worse than what she was already dealing with.
“Aimée!” The young woman moved her arms in circular motions as she tried to keep her balance. Her mother’s call startled her, and for a brief moment she thought God might be
The Lady of Chains (Part One of Five)The Lady of Chains (Part One of Five)2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
As soon as the doors closed, Viola knew she'd be lucky if she was ever given the chance to step outside them again. The sound didn't just echo throughout the tower, but appeared to signal the ending of her old life and the beginning of an entirely different one.
"You'll have to watch this one," Mrs Casket said, holding up a frail hand speckled with age. The index finger was missing. "She bites."
Viola averted her eyes, trying to ignore the ball of apprehension growing in her belly. She gazed up at the winding staircase. Her tongue felt like a strip of dried leather and it was difficult to form words around it. "How much longer until we're there?"
Mrs Casket stopped in her tracks and raised the lantern. Her hair was pinned back and greying at the temples. In the dull light her eyes looked almost black, glittering like a beetle's shell. Viola half-expected them to scuttle around her face at any moment, disappearing between the creases of her skin.
"You doubt yourself, my girl," Mrs Caske
BryceHe always stands very close to people when he speaks to them, staring with those huge golden eyes and leaning in ever so slightly, as if he is craving their touch and the feel of their breath and their hands more than anything. This is the first thing you notice when you meet him, the closeness. You ache, for a reason you don't know, to bridge the gap. To touch him. Your fingers twitch towards him but you keep your hands beside you.Bryce2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
And then you hear him speak, and everything else seems loud and bright and harsh compared to the gentleness of him. His lips are chapped and his big galaxy earrings glitter and his hair stands straight up and his freckles are like kisses, and you think he will sound like all the others and then he speaks; he speaks and something shifts inside you and a little storm begins to crackle and swell inside your chest and suddenly you love him more than anything.
And then he finishes asking you the time, and you tell him, and he walks on.
Secrets and PromisesI am here because of the past,Secrets and Promises1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Because of a promise that is endeavored to be kept.
I can only hope that this dread won't last.
Since the past is also what's killing me the most.
But no one knows,
What goes on in my head.
The painful woes,
That have not yet gone away.
Secrets that can not be shared,
Buried deep, and very far.
Only if anyone cared,
But God knows no one ever will.
Hiding the truth may never feel right,
But I am only doing it for the best.
I am not going to win this fight,
For what is left of me, I'm broken.
time-spared drawers of dreamsi. someday the sight-starvedtime-spared drawers of dreams1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
will find more than just the moon -
that i promise you.
we've seen all of what happiness
will never be and
like liquid stars in the milky way,
smiles will seep down
into the oceans of your laughter.
never mind what they said
about shady equilibrium;
it's only man's insecurity.
truth is, there is no
no rule, no eyes
watching over you;
just the forgotten remains of the
god that falls on us
every time it rains.
ii. someday, my dear,
those cranes won't just be
an exhibition of folded paper -
and those tears you cry now?
[which you hate so much?]
will leak into my arterial walls
and tell me they only tell stories of ecstasy;
we just have yet to realize.
love, it won't be long
till autumn will not be as forgotten
and between these
multiple shades of grey, will rest
the emptiness within yo[us]
and the broken smiles
of a shattered yesterday.
iii. grieve not, sweet traveler -
our draining journey has just begun.
and though you have been without comfort for s
Her Daily MasqueradeToday her parents ask how her day has beenHer Daily Masquerade1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
By now the answer has been well rehearsed
She insists to them that everything is fine
But the reality is the reverse
In fact she’s the antonym of the word ‘fine’
This is due to her creatively cursed mind
Steeped in a world of such simplicity
Yesterday friends asked how she has been coping
Waiting for their turn to talk, do they care?
They just see a happy, contented princess
Not a pensive, vacant, glazed over stare
In fact she’s the opposite of contented
Restless and at war with reality
Battling feelings of alienation
From unsupportive friends and family
Tomorrow strangers will ask her what is wrong
But in white lies she has become well versed
Knowing that the tar black pit of torrid truth
Will not dilute and only make things worse
She’s living the antonym of the word ‘truth’
But her lies are not designed to betray
Just to cover the cracks and to smother those
Against Nature"Mommy!" The call shatters the peace I fumble to carry like a bell in an abandoned cathedral. I can't stop myself from looking for the little girl whose voice pierces my heart.Against Nature1 year ago in Sketches More Like This
I can't find her. The park is full of children - too full. Shrieks bleed with laughter, buried under the heavy pounding near my temples. Children push against me, protesting as I rush by. Heads raise as nearby adults track me with wary eyes. They see a frantic parent seeking her child, but no amount of sympathy inspires them to do more. The sharp tang of fear burns; no matter how quick I am or how many times I search the colorful maze of jungle gyms, I can't find her.
It's faster to work around the crowd but now the trees block my path. Shadows peek from behind sprawling trees, giggling at my misfortune. It's hard to remember if the girl's voice was panicked when she called for me or if I had imagined it. Was I wrong?
A familiar sound stops me. The giggles I hear belong to a wild blonde who waves to me
Naughty Irish SpiritsPoor Molly Deegan was so very tired. She had done her nightly rituals in a stupor and when her fiery red head hit the pillow, she was gone into dreamland without a stray thought.Naughty Irish Spirits3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Her corgi's barks jolted Molly back to wakefulness and this, she couldn't ignore. With a muttered oath, she flung the blankets back and swung her feet over the side of the bed. She cringed at the cold air and grabbed a throw from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her self. A blue streak of curses trailed along behind her as she stomped into the kitchen to investigate.
She was momentarily shaken out of her foul mood when she saw that the kitchen was undisturbed. She stood in sleepy dumbness until she realized that there was a glow from the garage window.
Walking outside, Molly saw that the garage door was ajar and peering inside, she saw Aedan heaving the last of the broken shards of glass into the recycling bin, the partial logo on the shard revealing that it was one of her college bar glasses.
ButterBreakfast was real oatmealButter2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Every morning in Taos,
Served at the kitchen table
By the window. Ravens
In the courtyard.
You always put a dab of butter
In my bowl, covered it
So it would melt completely.
All I Wanted Was YouI can listen to this song one hundred timesAll I Wanted Was You3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Because when it begins
I'm born again
And you're always here with me.
I smell you
I feel your breath
The thud of your heartbeat in my hands
As you run up my spine
Send my mind to sleep
And my body to work.
MMMystery on the Friendship Express-Missing SceneAs she looked out of her window and saw the crowd of ponies gather in the gardens below, she could not help but feel more than a little excited. After all, it was not every day that she got to witness such an event.MMMystery on the Friendship Express-Missing Scene2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Princess Mi'Amore Cadenza, or Cadence as she preferred to be called, was watching the gathering crowd with great anticipation. Like many of the annual Canterlot events, ponies from all over Equestria would gather to this city. And although her work often took other all over the principality to meet such ponies, seeing them all gather together in one place was always a rare treat.
This day was the annual dessert contest and many had pulled out all the stops this year. Treats and cakes of all shapes and sizes lined the gardens, waiting for the judges to come by and pass their verdict. She had to admit, it was an appealing sight.
Under normal circumstances she would have loved for Shining to be here today so they could both enjoy it. Unfortunately for the both of them he'd bee
There Stands the GrassDuring my youth, I frequently traveled the world, sightseeing in the most exotic places. Few people can boast about having visited far-off and unheard of lands such as Oman, Kosovo and Swaziland. Traveling and exploring different countries became a passion, one that I enjoyed doing to no end. My reasons for getting such unprecedented joy from seeing the deepest parts of the world are my own, but I can only imagine being anywhere aside from home would give me pleasure. I have visited countries that some men have never even heard of, not even in their wildest dreams, but of all the experiences I’ve had and of all the people I’ve met, there is one event that I will never forget.There Stands the Grass1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
I was on a guided safari tour in Kenya, in the Hell’s Gate National Park, which received its name from the steep cliffs that opened up like a demon’s jaws. Was I wrong for going there in the first place? Well, no sane person should ever venture to a place called Hell’s Gate. I was wit
Open SeaIOpen Sea1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
fawn caught in
boulder on the
shoreline - a ghost in my dreams that's still breathing
I a &
IndependentIndependent1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
The sun was headed down towards the horizon, its bright light shining down onto a single road. Forest and trees were alongside the road, a few birds could be seen in the trees; chirping happily and living their lives. The road led into a small town, but before it reached that town, there was a small building next to it.
This building was single story, and had a large front and back yard. Small playground equipment was displayed out in both of them. It seemed like a nice little place, maybe a daycare or something like that. But upon closer inspection, it was not as enjoyable as it had seemed.
It was an old, abandoned building. The paint was faded and coming off, the playground in the front was broken and old, and much of the windows were shattered. A few rodents skittered along, searching for a morsel of food that was not to be found.
However, even in the building’s decrepit state, someone walked towards it. This person was a man, around twenty three years of age. He had slightly
Love Is In BloomLove Is In Bloom2 years ago in Romance More Like This
I don't own MLP: FiM or it's characters. They belong to Lauren Faust and Hasbro.
A/N: This is my first TwiLuna ship, so please don't be TOO harsh...
And let me know if there is anything needs to be fixing!
Love Is In Bloom
Princess Luna stared at the newly married couple who were dancing in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by other couples swaying to the music. Luna had never felt happier, as this was her first wedding in over a thousand years. For a moment, she felt a pang of guilt, that she might have missed many weddings like this.
But then again, last time she had attended any royal weddings, they weren't this lively. Well, last time they didn't have Pinkie Pie. Last time, she was also a bit uptight. And a bit more tempered. But that was in the past. She felt quite proud that this party was being held, right under her night sky. It gave her the hope that she needed. The hope that everypony actually enjoyed her night!
She had learned from her mistakes, and now she was herse
Such Bitter Hatred...Anger.Such Bitter Hatred...5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
A steady beat of rising anger.
It was almost as though the primal beat of Zebes' molten heart had fractured, had split, and was slowly but surely making its way up. Devouring all within its path and leaving nothing but fiery caves and volcanic vents; sulphur laden air and a wavering miasma of pure hatred.
Norfair was angry.
And the Hunter did not blame it. She had often wondered if a planet could have emotion. If a compacted ball of rock and mineral floating in its predetermined course around a central star in the dark reaches of space could develop a sort of sentience of its own. Norfair had never been this active, she knew. Not until the Chozo had left. Not until the Pirates had come. Not until the once peaceful twisting maze of alien architecture had been twisted into a technological hotbed of experimentation and abuse. Just as Maridia encompassed Zebes' sadness and Brinstar its abundance of life, still scrabbling for purchase; just as Crateria showcased its desolation and th
A Canterlot Wedding - Missing ScenesThe ponies were all hard at work. Pegasi went about repairing roofs and ceiling ornaments, unicorns spent their time seeing to the restoration of the more complicated features of the palace, and all others busied themselves with the myriad other tasks that needed to be done to get everything back in top condition.A Canterlot Wedding - Missing Scenes2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The recent attack brought about by the unexpected and hitherto unknown changelings and their Queen, Chrysalis, had left much of the city damaged. By some miracle there had been no casualties, only a few injuries here and there. Of course it made sense. The changelings were, after all, using the ponies as a food source. It made no sense that they'd want them harmed.
Ponies all about the capital were grateful that the attack had left only structural damage. Damage which was easily rectified. But for one lone unicorns, the damage was far deeper.
Walking along the red carpet of the main hall of the Canterlot royal palace, Captain Shining Armour was looking uncharacteristically fo
Ode to my grocer...The grocery cart had old fruit smashed and dried to its grated floor.Ode to my grocer...2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
"Someone really ought to hose that off," thought I.
I've had this cart before,
and thought the same thing then.
The parking lot was conspicuously short on cars.
Saturday morning is usually busier.
A corporate megamart has opened
just five minutes from here.
I pushed the cart into my familiar market,
defiantly devoted in the face of change
to my beloved grocer, unpolished, unrefined
and unapologetically human.
The Pinova apples are painted vibrant shades of yellow, pink and red.
Perfect in their imperfection. Better there be scars than a thick polish of wax.
And the voices around me are they from Russia or Ukraine?
Is that Farsi or Arabic? I'm too ignorant to tell, but I love them all.
Alien music wafts through the aisles like invisible fog over a transparent bay.
Languages I don't understand, unique rhythms and instruments, too.
Wait! Is that Alsu singing Inagda? I haven't heard that since I was in Moscow.