A Journey Through Our Mind So this is where we're at. We thought that it would disappear, we thought it would be brief, we thought that it would just “take a little time” when the truth was much different. What happened was a journey of self-discovery. It was a silent scream for help that resonated throughout the cavernous mind. It was an adventure through the darkest forest, the longest road, and the deepest ocean. Bloodshed, pain, scars, sorrows; we found a new meaning for these, meanings that others don't understand. They ask “How are you?” and “Are you okay?” and we want to scream it out, “No!” when all we do is nod and turn away. Our bodies were pushed, our will was tested, and our focus combated. We starved for food, or turned it away. We slept for days, or struggled to slumber. We aced our tests, or fought just to fill the circles.A Journey Through Our Mind in Emotional More Like This
Dream of a FutureAs I lay my hand upon your cheek,Dream of a Future in Free Verse More Like This
In the bed we share to sleep,
I think of climbing that mountain peak,
Of fears conquered
And trials beat,
I'm proudest most of the leap,
I took with you,
More To LifeLife,More To Life in Free Verse More Like This
More than just breathing,
More than just bleeding,
More than just caring,
More than just crying,
More than just loving,
More than just losing
Made from life,
Made for life,
Made to give life meaning
Maybe we are more than what happens to us,
Maybe what we do with it matters more,
Maybe the world is not against us,
Maybe we are against ourselves,
Maybe bad things happen, so we can grow,
Maybe the struggles we face are more than just failure,
Maybe there is no such thing as failure, but what we make it,
Maybe “failure” is the first step on our journey through,
Winter ParkWhen I was a younger girl,Winter Park in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I met a real man.
His body wasn’t built for strength,
Nor his mind profound.
But I met a real man,
One to hold me all the days.
He had his own kind of smarts,
And he warmed me in our iced over park.
My memory of his care remains,
Even as my mind decays.
In our frozen land he still keeps me warm,
As I returned to that icy field.
And even as my mind departs,
His weakened hands still carry me.
As I return to his frozen grave,
I remember when we were young.
The Pimpin' Pink WhalesSong (To the Gilligan’s Island Theme)The Pimpin' Pink Whales in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
There once was a patrol with six young men,
Who went to NYLT,
They came and sang and cheered all day,
Until they got pink epaulettes,
They got pink epaulettes
They gasped in shock at what they saw,
Their epaulettes did rock,
For what they was then soon dubbed,
The Pimpin’ Pink Whales,
The Pimpin’ Pink Whales
What do you do with a pink patrol,
What do you do with a pink patrol,
What do you do with a pink patrol while you’re at Westmoreland
Snippy - Poem of DoomSnippy - Poem of Doom in Free Verse More Like This
Oh Captain, my Captain! I say it to mock,
You're lucky as hell but to me you're a c***.
Please spare me the missions, I've no head for heights,
Balloons and big lists lead me only to blights.
Evading the probes of an alien race,
Then having to witness your > : ( angry face...
But what choice have I? I'm involved in these fights,
With Cancerous space-monsters full of red sprites,
And Lemonade weirdos and God knows what next,
Just how can you stay so serene and unvexed?
What price should I pay for your simple delights,
Be eaten by whales after soiling my whites?
I know you won't listen, but you'll come unstuck,
And one of these days you'll run right out of luck,
Your empire will fall, and your ego besides,
It's karma for sure, like the turn of the tides,
And then I will lol, sitting in my own muck,
Coz after all this I just won't give a f***.
RopeWith just another inch of it,Rope in Free Verse More Like This
let loose, unwound
slack from secret stashes:
There might have been enough
sisal rope or
to tie to you
to keep you close
to form into a noose
(so you might hang around this time.)
Sonnet IDark glasses asideSonnet I in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
That you might see my eyes -
At a breakfast of baked sunlight,
Filling and spilling,
As photons in rage;
Aging us one day at a time,
One cell at a time,
Split, one at a time -
Til we're glowing with growing
As stars feeding stars,
Our bones aching with breaking
To keep up with our hearts.
Pulling pairs of pulses dictate
Chemical vehicles, blind interstate,
And you, just as bright
In the dark as the light.
Not passively, as some stars
Who simply twinkle with the menial -
Instead, bursting; beating close,
Smiling easy with eyes closed.
With what tools would I be suited
To extract you?
Stolen, as only human thoughts can steal -
Separate, as we were built to feel -
Some silly certainty that
Our disparateness is real.
But no, not us,
We seem to know better:
Wrapped up in a feeling resembling forever.
So close, as to become unintelligible;
As given as your breath in my lungs.
As trippingly as the love songs being sung,
Ecstatic and free
From the tips of our tongues.
She Was LovelyDinner with guests was always a tricky affair to navigate. The guests were sat nearest to each other, to promote pleasant conversation, while friends and family were sat far from each other on opposite ends of the table. While Zephyr was perfectly aware of how these customs came into being, he didn't exactly like them. Zephyr was in a rare, uncomfortable, position within his own palace.She Was Lovely in Short Stories More Like This
Sitting next to him tonight was the eccentrically unique young King of a place with a very long name. The word sounded like some Rakselou gibberish, something the shapeshifters would say to make it difficult for humans and ferals to understand what they were saying. Thankfully, King Noreat translated his own words and explained that he was from the "Mountainous Lands". Zephyr was unaware such a place existed. He was also unaware that men could look so much like women up until recently.
King Zephyr sighed under his bre
Big and HungryThis moment was perfect; there was no way Noreat was going to let it slip past him. The King was locked in that hazy plain between awake and asleep, just barely aware of the world around him and yet aware enough to know he was no longer dreaming. Usually, this moment was annoying for him, but right now it was everything he could ever want. Noreat could feel Zephyr with him at this very second. The older man's big warm arms were locked around his back, Noreat's face was pressed into his lovers chest. He could even hear Zephyr's heartbeat drumming in his ears. Noreat didn't move, didn't twitch, and didn't even dare to breathe too deeply. This was a rare moment for him. He usually couldn't remember Zephyr in his entirety like this. Most of the time all he was able to recall would be the heartbeat, the tough textured skin, the feeling of Zephyr's breath against his neck. Great GodBig and Hungry in Short Stories More Like This
Humbly SurprisedThis felt all too perfect to be real. Noreat never thought he would wake up next to Zephyr ever again. And yet, here he was, lying in bed with his long lost lover, as if nothing had happened. There was no way this was real. The King curled his fingers against Zephyr's weathered skin. The old man mumbled something and shifted in Noreat's grasp. Noreat could feel him as Zephyr moved his face against his chest, his prickly beard tickling his chest. An airy, almost cautious laugh eased out of Noreat. Dream Zephyr didn't have a scraggly messy beard. He always looked the same as when the two first met. Dream Zephyr was also never this thin, nor did he have bandages around his stomach. This was real.Humbly Surprised in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Zephyr wake up," Noreat whispered in his lover's ear.
A small part of Noreat knew he should let Zephyr sleep. He knew that the older man was injured and unhealthy a
Damn RomanticJust like before, the gentle drumming of Zephyr's heart took Noreat's hand and led him out of his dreams. It was so curious that one sound could both lull him into sleep and wake him. Noreat wasn't sure what that meant, but he knew that it made him rather happy. He lazily opened his eyes, unwilling to move and ruin this moment. The young King was comfortable with his face pressed against Zephyr's chest, his body curled up against the much larger and warmer one beside him, Zephyr's heavy hand on his shoulderthere was no reason to move. Not yet. The young King couldn't suppress a gentle smile from gracing his lips as he listened to Zephyr's heartbeat. It was quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds.Damn Romantic in Short Stories More Like This
Noreat's eyes found Zephyr's other hand, curled into a loose fist next to Noreat's face. He noticed dark blue and purple marks on the knuckles. Those hadn't been there yesterday.
The Only Safe OptionAmbient voices, cold air, a flash of white in the corner of his eyes, that was all that Noreat dreamt of. The man felt as if he were sitting in a blackened room, staring at colorless walls waiting for a dream to start in front of his eyes but one never did. He could feel his mind desperately clawing for a dream, for something with pictures and color, but whenever he tried to dream all he saw were wide white eyes. What was worse was that the young King was painfully aware that he was asleep and couldn't rouse himself. It was as if he was lucid dreaming but he had no actual control of his lack of dreams. All of his body felt numb, his limbs turned off while he slept, and he had no way of waking up. The sensation was maddening. He didn't know what was going on in the waking realm, but he knew he should be awake. All he wanted to do was wake up, to see what was going on, to know ifThe Only Safe Option in Short Stories More Like This
Because he had been so diz
Small MiraclesIt was funny how dinner with Noreat had transformed from an affair that Zephyr wanted to rush through because he was uncomfortable around Noreat to an affair that he wanted to rush through so he could have Noreat to himself, in his arms, all night, in just the span of two weeks. The older King was rather thankful for the old seating arrangement traditions, since it kept his paramour close to him while his daughter sat on the other side of the room and seethed. Iridesia had elected to force Zephyr to endure her silent treatment and the girl had not talked to him for the last day or so. The old man was no stranger to his daughter's silent punishment at this point. Once, when she was particularly upset with him for something too trivial for him to remember, she didn't speak to him for almost four days. While it was vexing and it nearly tore Mayanna apart, Zephyr had markedly less headaches those four days.Small Miracles in Short Stories More Like This
But now was not the time to
sheBeautiful, but she sees it not.she in Free Verse More Like This
Sitting there with no air about her,
suffocating in the once was.
The no more.
once appeared comfort,
in what truely was, couldn't be.
Needing time, space, lonenly.
That percieved as perfect... not truth.
So alone in her bitterness,she sits,
waiting for the return of once was pefect.
D. I love youIn the begining, easily felt,D. I love you in Free Verse More Like This
energies that made me melt,
when I was new to this
mixing of entities.
Feels as if we've never been,
anything less than,
What has always been.
I lie on your bed while you're away.
Contemplating the words I need to say.
These feelings inside encompass me.
As thoughts of you drift into eternity.
ooopsOkay here goes:ooops in Free Verse More Like This
Too much for me to take in.
Last night, well
Baby, I hoped.
The connection there.
I've had many.
I wanted to know what was
The passion, yeah, You know.
I never knew that
I could feel,
You surpass any dream.
Baby you speak to me.
As I say it's not important, and IT"S
The passion, the fire,
baby, that's what speaks to me.
You have opened my door
that I wish not shut.
So touch me tenderly,
But always let me feel
which way?The pluse of energy,which way? in Free Verse More Like This
once pure and exciting,
seems to be shorting out between you and me.
The drama high,
the newness low,
no longer flows.
The start was sweet,
and charged positively.
Faded now, by what won't go away.
The truth is never accepted with dignity,
but callouse answers, and hurt spirit.
No logic in the reasoning of doubts.
If you won't listen, I mean really hear,
then you only bring about what you fear.
Words come hard,
there is never an easy way
to make it clear, to try and say,
that maybe I need sometime to decide.
Yes I love you,
no I don't desire to lose,
currently my heart knows not what direction to choose.
I request your patience,
as you often do mine,
Please my love, give me time.
To youTo you I was drawn ,To you in Free Verse More Like This
not because of how you look,
although beautiful you are.
To you I was mesmerized by,
The sadness you forced others to ignore.
I saw it there,
wishing to make it all dissapear.
I couldn't go to you then.
It wasn't time.
You played to the crowd, and annoyed me,
Why weren't you being real,
Why not let them see?
Now I know they aren't important.
You were drawn to me.
All blessings and dreams
The union created, that time wouldn't allow.
Now I am your's and you mine.
I aspire to be a hepling hand,
To let you see
That I love you.
past's present, future's pastJust another day in the exciting.past's present, future's past in Free Verse More Like This
Eveything starts with the past.
Now moving forward, which will soon be behind.
this second present, now gone, and gone.
Live in the future, knowing it holds a past.
The past's looking glass, held a once dear soon near.
Rehab for Roleplayers - Part 2Welcome to Rehab for Role-players, a series of articles aimed at helping role-players more successfully make the transition into writing fiction.Rehab for Roleplayers - Part 2 in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Part Two If It Walks Like RP and Quacks Like RP, Then It Is Probably Not a Novel.
As I have already discussed in other parts of this series, fiction and roleplay are two very different things.
Here, I'll be discussing those differences as a means of illustrating why the bulk of roleplay-style writing is not conducive to selling your work to an editor as fiction, nor in many cases providing an enjoyable reading experience for anyone unfamiliar with your personal RP.
Primarily, this segment of the series is dedicated to examining the structure and the purpose of each, and comparing the two.
I feel it's important to make clear at this point that I am not suggesting that concepts, plots and characters originating from RP cannot make the leap to fiction.
Indeed, several very popular series of books have been bor
Rehab for Roleplayers - Part 1Welcome to Rehab for Roleplayers, a series of articles aimed at helping roleplayers more successfully make the transition into writing fiction.Rehab for Roleplayers - Part 1 in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Part One: Your Syntax Has Been Eaten A Grue
The term 'syntax' pertains to the rules of grammar and sentence construction in any given language.
I'm starting this series with a discussion of problematic syntax because passively constructed sentences and/or wrenched and unnatural sentence structure are the number one signpost which will identify a writer as having spent a lot of time in the RP world.
Wrenched or passive syntax is also the number one 'crime against fiction' committed by the average roleplayer while attempting to cross over into fiction writing.
I'll now explain the difference between the active and passive "voice" in sentences, and why active sentences are far more desirable in fiction.
An active sentence makes the subject of a sentence the focus of action. A passive sentence focuses instead on the verbs,
Rehab for Roleplayers - Part 4Welcome to Rehab for Roleplayers, a series of articles aimed at helping roleplayers more successfully make the transition into writing fiction.Rehab for Roleplayers - Part 4 in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Part 4 - The Epic Adventures of Level 9 Druid
Have you ever attempted to explain RP, particularly your own RP, to somebody who isn't involved in it? Most of you would have experienced something like my last conversation of the sort:
PERSON: So, what's this RP thingy about, anyway?
YOU: Well, you see, I play a character who's a 326-year old vampire, only she's not one anymore, because of well, long story, but anyway, she's in love with this pirate who's also a werewolf, because he was dying, and so my character had him turned into one to save his life, because, you know, he didn't want to be a vampire, and of course she never told him, and we've played this for 5 RL years now, it's the greatest love story ever, and they're outlaws, and run about killing and plundering, and
PERSON: *having tun
Rehab for Roleplayers - Part 3Welcome to Rehab for Roleplayers, a series of articles aimed at helping roleplayers more successfully make the transition into writing fiction.Rehab for Roleplayers - Part 3 in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Part 3 Echolalia Jones and the Thesaurus of Doom
As we've seen, one of the most significant differences between RP and fiction is that RP is an interactive process. Aside from issues already discussed, there are several related aspects of writing styles in RP that can become problematic when employed in the realm of fiction.
The bulk of RP occurs within the context of a 'gameworld' or a pre-set environment into which player's characters are inserted. This can be anything from a fully represented reality with pre-created 'rooms' that a character moves through, simulating a real-world environment, to a loose arrangement of locations created according to need in a chat-based free form RP.
There's also, in most RPG environments, a strong sense of community among the players. Whether a player is a joiner
Rehab for Roleplayers - IntroWelcome to Rehab for Roleplayers, a series of articles aimed at helping roleplayers more successfully make the transition into writing fiction.Rehab for Roleplayers - Intro in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Introduction: How to Spot a Drow Illusionist
I can identify a habitual roleplayer from fifty paces. Those who've been spooked by my asking whether they're a roleplayer within ten seconds of reading their fiction will know what I'm talking about.
"But how did you know?" they gasp. When I'm done chuckling, I explain that I know they are a roleplayer, because they write like a roleplayer.
There's usually a pause, then, while the writer decides to what degree they're going to feel offended by this statement, and/or wonders whether I've been stalking them, before they pose the next question: "What, exactly, do you mean by that?"
What I mean is this: roleplayers almost invariably share the same basic writing habits, and some of these habits stand out as flaws in their non-RP material.
Many people develop their interest in writing
How 2 Make an Anime GurlGirls, girls, girls. Everybody loves girls! They're so soft and cuddly! Know what else everyone loves? That's right! Anime! So what happens when you put the two best things in the world together!How 2 Make an Anime Gurl in General Non-Fiction More Like This
Anime girls. We've gone through how to make dicktastic sexbombs believable female characters and space marines main characters, let's explore some of the more whimsical elements fiction has to offer.
1. Body Type The biggest and most important rule of anime girls.
No fat chicks. You ever see a hot fat chick in anime? Yeah, that's what I thought. The only part of them that's allowed to be fat is their breasts. (Or they usually gotta be flat as boards, one or the other, no in between). If an anime girl doesn't conform to this body type, she simply isn't hot. And because Japan thinks so, everyone should think so.
2. Eyes and Hair Next most important to no fat chicks, all their eyes must be big, big, BIG. The eyes are like breasts. The
How To Write YaoiToday, we're going to show you how to write The Greatest Thing to ever happen evar.How To Write Yaoi in Editorial More Like This
Yaoi. Since it's a known fact that all female characters are vastly inferior to the male ones, none of them are suitable to be shipped with a male character. In fact, they can all go lez in a corner. No. This is going to be about yaoi. The greatest thing to evar happen evar of all time. Because we could never let a woman soil the true and pure love between a man and another man. And nothing is more sacred than that.
1. Tops and Bottoms As a rule, all yaoi couples must have a certified top and bottom (or uke and seme for you Japan types). NO EXCEPTIONZ1111!! You're either top. Or bottom. Period. The end. No exceptions. That's how all relationships work. And if you're relationship isn't like that, then there's probably something wrong with you. Or you're a woman. Then there's definitely something w
FreedomFreedomFreedom in Free Verse More Like This
I can taste it now
But not just a taste -
So many forms...
Freedom is cold
As wind bites my bare arms
Freedom is vivid
As flowers bloom
And bluejays sing
But to me,
Freedom is also white
Like my eyes
No longer red
From nights spent in tears
Freedom is white
Like my scars
So beautifully healed
But never to leave
A constant reminder
Of what you can't see
A battle, a wrestle
A long, brutal fight
But one I have conquered -
Defeated the night
So freedom, you ask
What is it to me?
The place in my life
Where I happen to be.
SHAMEHow do you explain that sense of shame?SHAME in Free Verse More Like This
That causes you to drop your eyes
And build up walls in which you hide...
How do you explain that sense of shame?
That turns your sorry heart to stone
And forces you to live alone...
How do you explain that sense of shame?
That deems you unworthy of any love
That prevents you from reaching all you've dreamed of...
How do you explain that sense of shame?
Tug-of-warSo what next?Tug-of-war in Free Verse More Like This
Tell me what's next?
When my feet hit the floor,
Where go they go?
Forwards or backwards,
Future or past.
To love and move on,
Or to make love that lasts.
Seconds or years.
Are any enough
To quiet my fears?
Of spiders, of darkness,
Of being alone.
Of ending the day
With nobody home.
My fears of an ending
With no hand to hold
Of dying here slowly
Lonely and cold.
So my feet hit the floor,
Now what? Where to?
But my feet feel heavy
I can't seem to move
I'm stuck in the middle
Of then and of now
Stuck in the middle
Oh, how to get out.
I try to leave yesterday
Try to move on
But it's holding on tightly
And singing a song
A song of my memories
Of smiles and of tears
And now I remember
Why I live with these fears.
Hidden colorsBlack and purple, green and blueHidden colors in Free Verse More Like This
Hidden deep beneath the clothes
Masked with shame
But no one knows
Every day a new regret
With every bruise came side effects
A colder heart
And fewer tears
WIth no escape from haunting fears
Of hands so strong
A grip so tight
A pointless struggle
An endless fight
I swore I'd never be that girl
Who woke up crying on the floor
With man-made marks upon my skin
Left from a fight I couldn't win
So hide the colors
Shield the shame
Try to win this stupid game
Hide all weakness
Bear the pain
And hope the bruises fade away
Let's forget to breathe.Breathe inLet's forget to breathe. in Free Verse More Like This
Breathe in again
Fingers through my hair
Heat between us
Press in closer
Hands around my waist
Forget to breathe
I love you
Let's forget to breathe
Backstage GossipMeg Giry, you little prat, snapped La Sorelli from where she sat at her dressing table puffing chalky powder onto her face, if you knew what was good for you, you would shut your mouth this instant!Backstage Gossip in Fan Fiction More Like This
From the opposite side of the dressing room, the little waif of a girl pursed her full lips and tossed a thick shock of long ebony hair over her shoulder.
I wouldnt talk that way if I were you, Sorelli, Meg sneered pompously, narrowing her slate gray eyes, The ghost could be lurking somewhere near.
The crowd of lanky ballerinas huddled around Meg let out a collective gasp, snapping their necks around fearfully to check for apparitions.
Sorellis rouged lips pursed and she placed her hands on her hips.
Your head is stuffed with fluff, do you know that? she shook her head, Does your mother know that you are spreading such stories?
I watched Meg draw herself to her full height (which was not at all an impressive
The Holiday: Chapter EightDo you have the time?The Holiday: Chapter Eight in Fan Fiction More Like This
I blinked. Her soft inquiry nearly jerked me out of my stupor, though I still could not tear my eyes away from where she sat on the bed.
The only bed.
The bed that, in a few short hours, I would be frozen upon like a mummified corpse as I lay beside her in the darkness, a beast next to a beauty.
It sickened me. Truly, it did. Oh, not the prospect of being near Christine. That was such a heavenly thought that I scarcely believed it could happen.
But when two people shared a bed, there were rather awkward implications that the aforementioned people should commence cuddling and then begin to
ah cuddle more intensely.
I should like to make it very clear that my intentions are controlled purely by love of the deepest, sincerest kind. I am not a lustful man, and I have no right to be. Although occasionally, Christine dons dresses that hug her body in such a sinfully perfect way that I begin to sweat a little. Or I w
Because I CanLAYER ONE:Because I Can in Fan Fiction More Like This
Name: Many: Opera Ghost, the Phantom, Angel of Music, and certain explicit names that common decency forbids me to record. You may call me Erik.
Birthplace: St. Martin de Boscherville, France
Birthday: Will you believe me if I assure you that I have absolutely no idea?
Gender: Male. I pity the woman named Erik.
Eye Color: a rather garish shade of yellow
Hair Color: Ah, you must be referring to those fine, shaggy strands that crown my head? Black, then.
Height: Six feet, four inches, I believe. Why cant you behave normally and use the metric system like everyone else?
Righty or Lefty: Hands? Left.
Zodiac Sign: Did we not discuss this previously?
Elemental Sign: Must you?
Chinese Zodiac Sign: Come now, this is getting ridiculous. Stop your laziness this instant and check the birthday question if you insist on an answer!
Your heritage: French. I believe the name Erik is Scandinavian, but as to my ancestry in this area, I have
Down Once More TranslatedSubliminal messages abound in The Phantom of the Opera. Some are so entwined in such carefully constructed, phallic metaphors, that it may be difficult to sift through the passionate web of angst and decipher the lyrics' true meanings. So here, for your clarity, I have provided a translation of some of the musical's most elaborate lyrics. The original lyrics will be italicized, while the translations will not. It is my desire that your next viewing of Phantom should be an enlightened one, and my sincerest hope that these translations will clear up any confusion.Down Once More Translated in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Down Once More"
PHANTOM: Down once more to the dungeons of my black despair!
(I am using hyperbolic metaphors that make me the patron saint of emos everywhere.)
Down we plunge to the prison of my mind!
(Have you, perchance, ever heard of schizophrenia? Because I think I may have it, along with a medley of other psychological disorders that would make a therapist salivate.)
Down that path