1780

Blotted Ink with a Broken Quill

United States

13 years old.
In love with books.
Ranger's Apprentice. 1
Dawn of Wonder. 2
Wings of Fire. 3
Warriors. 4
Percy Jackson. 5

ENFP-T

Coldplay.
Beatles.

Guitarist.
Artist.
Screamer.
Lover.
Actor.

Join Date: September 12, 2018

Message from Writer

I have found that what I put here before was very deep.
Nah...
Just wanted to say hi.
So hello.

And remember that whoever you are, however you look, in what way you think, what you drink, how you express yourself, how you write, what music you listen to, and even how long your fingernails are, the only real thing about you is what you decide to be.

Published Work

Fantasy Writing Competition

Of Ash and Elm

Windswept plains and towering mountains stood over and around the rushing rivers, the stoic trees, the stretching flowers, and the singing birds. 
In time came villages, towering cities, with flourishing colors found in dresses and tunics and cloaks and leathers. 
But it had been a long time since I had come. 
------------------------------------------------------------- 
    I awoke to the sound of... nothing. Not surprising exactly. 
Grasping around, I felt cold earth and a pressing weight.  
    I opened my eyes—which was a relief; it would have been hard to go without them for a few days. There was nothing, or what a simpler man would call nothing. 
    Darkness spoke in silent yet overpowering whispers, and the presence of it demanded respect, but I wasn't overly worried. 
When I tried to move, not much happened, so I applied more strength until the earth above me shifted. 
    I slowly dug myself out, relishing the feeling of movement; after all, being trapped underground for a hundred years isn't...

Of Ash and Elm

Windswept plains and towering mountains stood over and around the rushing rivers, the stoic trees, the stretching flowers, and the singing birds.
In time came villages, towering cities, with flourishing colors found in dresses and tunics and cloaks and leathers.
But it had been a long time since I had come.
-------------------------------------------------------------
    I awoke to the sound of... nothing. Not surprising exactly.
Grasping around, I felt cold earth and a pressing weight. 
    I opened my eyes—which was a relief; it would have been hard to go without them for a few days. There was nothing, or what a simpler man would call nothing.
    Darkness spoke in silent yet overpowering whispers, and the presence of it demanded respect, but I wasn't overly worried.
When I tried to move, not much happened, so I applied more strength until the earth above me shifted.
    I slowly dug myself out, relishing the feeling of movement; after all, being trapped underground for a hundred years isn't...

Fantasy Writing Competition

Of Ash and Elm

It was a fine day for sailing. The water was a glass canvas painted without too much effort, and the artist who had made the masterpiece had mixed a wonderful blue color. 
"A storm is coming." I swiveled, and saw Old Lieutenant Krauss. He was a man well past mid age with thin, twig like arms and a sickly pale aura that everybody felt. He had an earring, which he had promised was given to him by his daughter; the gemstone wasn't expensive anyways.

"Bah!" I returned. "There ain't be a cloud in the sky today!"
"A storm is coming," The man said again quietly. 
I looked out at the horizon to make sure the I wasn't going crazy, and sure enough, the sky was blue as a china set. 
"Ya crazy lugger, there ain't be a grey cloud in sight. Yeh think the kraken would throw us'n down its throat on a fine eve'nun like this 'un?" 
"Yes, Bartholomew,...

The Lutemaster

Passion is a song
that the bleach of a thousand suns will never manage to suppress them.
The cry of a hundred souls,
the mourning of a year without rain,
the days it takes to count heartbreak,
​the way a mountain breaks under the strain of the wind,
and how gravity opposes every action.

The music radiates with newfound life.
----------
But outside of the tune, there exists a flat note like the ashes from a fire pit.
Here they stand, the storytellers of men, trying to describe things that will forever stay a mystery,
grasping for sounds gone pale.
-----------
Time covers old scars and creates new ones, so we don't have to.
Space bridges forgotten gaps and ties up loose ends, so we don't have to.
The world sings for us and heals our souls, so we don't have to.
----------
...
..
.
But who sings to the world?
----------
He sits alone, with only clear air and sky...

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2019

Growing Down

He begins with, 
---
"Thirteen
Opening here, yet somehow not began, haven't started, new lifespan.
Writing lines, black as coal, broken heart, mending soul.
Go to sleep, find light rest, open pages, it seems as though I'm the guest.
Twelve
Countless hours, spent inside, painting backwards, without a guide.
Puzzling pieces, shoved apart, finally fit, perfect art.
Simply honest, yelling loud, hitting pillows, no longer cowed.
Eleven
Padded snow, stringing words, laughing silent, singing birds.
Reclaimed thoughts, back outside, rushing fields, taken stride.
Words are spoken, opened eyes, racing thoughts, ever skies.
Ten
Milestone here, doubly so, interesting premise, reality although... 
Music has entered, notes flying by, passing in colors and sunset paved sky.
Cliche in a thought, clashing emotions, icicles standing, a frozen ocean.
Nine
Back below two, open to change, almost forgotten, all responsibility and pain.
Living in air, in winged birds' lives, the ocean is seen, as white dove dives.
Drifting through rivers, of legos and letters,...

Of Ash and Elm

Windswept plains and towering mountains stood over and around the rushing rivers, the stoic trees, the stretching flowers, and the singing birds.
In time came villages, towering cities, with flourishing colors found in dresses and tunics and cloaks and leathers.
But it had been a long time since I had come.
-------------------------------------------------------------
I awoke to the sound of... nothing. Not surprising exactly.
Grasping around, I felt cold earth and a pressing weight. 
When I opened my eyes—which was a relief; it would have been hard to go without them for a few days— there was nothing, or what a simpler man would call nothing.
Darkness spoke in silent yet overpowering whispers, but I wasn't overly worried.
When I tried to move, not much happened, so I applied more strength until the earth above me shifted.
I slowly dug myself out, relishing the feeling of movement; after all, being trapped underground for a hundred years isn't exactly pleasant.
Finally, a hand struck...

#Onlyonehundred Contest Winners!

I am so sorry how delayed this is, but i have been in a massive writing block.
This won't be a long mention, but I deeply appreciate all of you who competed, and I'm super excited to get into the reviews!

1st place: Christi Wisdom, Pain of the victor
This was beautifully written, but the thing that really stood out was the title. In it itself it's a work of art.
  
Rewards:
I will take any request of them, as long as it is reasonable. (For example, "Write a short poem about a yodeling duck." I don't know, just thought it would be fun. :P 
    3 reviews of your choice 
    3 comments 
    3 likes 


2nd place: Ryder, One Hundred Thousand
This piece was similar, but the way the narrator was woven into the story was wonderful.   
Rewards:
    3 reviews of your choice 
    3 comments 
    3 likes 

3rd place: sedya, #onlyonehundred
The repetition...

100?! Followers Contest! #onlyonehundred

What??? 
    First of all, thank you so much to everyone, for inviting me so kindly into what I have learned to call, "Our Humble Abode." Everyone has been nothing but supportive, and this site feels like a home away from home. Now on to the contest!

Prompt: Write about 100 of something. Yep, that's it.

Word Length: 5-6000 words. I'm open to anything!

Due Date: April 15.

Prizes:
1st place

    I will take any request of them, as long as it is reasonable. (For example, "Write a short poem about a yodeling duck." I don't know, just thought it would be fun. :P
    3 reviews of your choice
    3 comments
    3 likes
2nd place
    3 reviews of your choice
    3 comments
    3 likes
3rd place
    1 review of your choice
    3 comments
    3 likes.

Have fun with it! And thanks again for making this sight wonderful!
:D ...

My love.... #RoseLove

She was
            a         
              l
               o
                n
                 e
but every night she was  k i s s e d 

and she drank in all the love, until the next day came, 
and it kept her from w  i t h e r i  n   g. 

Every night, 
    the snow came and let its soft flakes brush against 
        her cheeks,    
                                    
            which already blushed without provacation 
She was the only spot of red in the shifting mass 
    of white and grey 
        but she liked it that way 
She
had
the
entire
universe
as
her
companion
And underneath the s
                               ...

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2019

Growing Down

He begins with, 
"Thirteen
Opening here, not began, haven't started, new lifespan.
Writing lines, black as coal, broken heart, mending soul.
Go to sleep, find light rest, open pages, I'm the guest.
Twelve
Countless hours, spent inside, painting backwards, without a guide.
Puzzling pieces, shoved apart, finally fit, perfect art.
Simply honest, yelling loud, hitting pillows, no longer cowed.
Eleven
Dashing snow, stringing words, laughing silent, singing birds.
Reclaimed innocent, back outside, rushing fields, taken stride.
Words are spoken, opened eyes, racing thoughts, ever skies.
Ten
Milestone here, doubly so, interesting premise, reality although... 
Music has entered, notes flying by, passing in colors and sunset paved sky.
Cliche in a thought, clashing emotions, icicles standing, a frozen ocean.
Nine
Back below two, open to change, almost forgotten, the fear and the pain.
Living in air, in winged birds' lives, the ocean is seen, as white dove dives.
Drifting in levels, of legos and letters, reading is trivial, building is...

Cl@ss1fied D@tA #SciFi

PL@N-...e-e-e-T N@-a-a-a-m3: S0ph1@ 316

CreatiON D@T3: OPAC-m0nth #7 of 6492; S0ph1@ 315 sugg3st3d 1ndustr10us pl@n3t cr3@t1on. 

CreaT!On M@T3r1@l: C0pp3r; g3@rs; 345˚degrees

PUrp0s3: M1n1ng 0p3r@t1on.

Creator: Cl@ss1f13d D@t@

--------------

Access request for classified data?
-------------
Acc3ss D3nied; termination sequence innitiated. 

Terms and Conditions of WTW (Straight details simplified for convenience and viewing purposes.)

In case WTW does use search engines to terminate pieces, I will refrain from using the words that might gain attention.
Anything in [] brackets was written by me.

Information (yay!)

With respect to any User Submissions falling into the following categories, as determined by WTW in its sole discretion, WTW retains the right to:

1. Remove such User Submissions from the WTW Website
2. Terminate the account of any User responsible for such User Submissions
3. Delete any private group in which any such User Submissions are uploaded
4. Terminate the account of any User who engages in any behavior falling into these categories:

Hate speech against individuals or groups on the basis of race, ethnic origin, religion, disability, gender, age, or sexual orientation
-

Abusive language
-

Cyber-bullying
-
Pedo******
-

Explicit content with the sole purpose of intending to arouse
-
R*** or non-consensual **x
-

Glorification of any illegal act
-
Self-harm and su*****
-

Plagiarism/entering...

Bronze #ManateeYellowContest

The metal was no longer the dull brown it had been before-...​
Clang!
It was now turning golden like the light of a dawning sunrise-...​
Clang!
What was before a formless hunk of ore had become-...
Clang!
A shining blade-...
Clang!
No rivets, dents, or breaks-...
Clang!
At least not yet-...
Clang!
three feet long hilt wraught in iron-...
Clang!
pommel polished-...
Clang!
Three and a half pounds, not too long-...
Clang!
A longsword stood before him-...
Clang!
Interesting how much of a story each blade has.
Clang!
It was the fourth one today.
Hisssss!
 

Dreaming till daylight. Updated version.

I'm terribly sorry, but I can't get the song to play. I think I'll have to load it to soundcloud first, and I don't have the right clip rn.  I think I should be able to get it next week.
Strumming: (For Guitar)
-----> Down
-----> Down
<----- Up
-----> Up
-----> Down
This is how I originally drafted it.
Capo: 2nd fret.
Bm G D D 2x

Verse:
Bm             G          D          D
The dark is burning away
Bm          G           D            D
Stars will begin to dissipate 
Bm               G              D                    D
The lost are freed, and champions are caged
C Am G 2x
F        C    ...

The sky writes with rain



The sky poured out its thoughts, and instead of using ink, it decided to try water.
    R      i   F     l
        a    n    e      l    
    It wrote some more
Its quill seeping through
earth and stone
pain and sorrow
stained glass painted
for a thunderstorm
But then…
    It
   ran       out of
          I
        N
  K    
                                So it asked the sun to get some more.
    And then painted some more.
                        And the sun restocked the glass bottles for a rainy day.    
    Which came soon enough.
    Sunsets slipped by in blue burning flame silhouetted in mountain vistas with words pasted all over, in a language entirely unintelligible but all the more...

Cyan #bigcolor


Aur0M3talS@urus 


R3d: 43%
Gr33n: 50%
Blu3: 50%

Hu3: 183º

Co1or Cod3: ​​#6E7F80

Fl3cks of mEta1..-^.#@$5..-PErmiat3 th3 fl@m3s 0ƒ th3 burn1ng-..jA2@&8$->..-0F alph@ C3ntauri burst1ng lnt0 st@arlight 1n a  sUP3rnova;-..ji$^)(-..du11 ls N0t @lways b0r1ng, jU5t sh@tt3r3d & pr1sm@t1c...-(*4kS@!..-F0r 0Nc3, th3 un1v3rs3 rev0lv3d ar0und th3 s0ft sc@ld1ng Of th3 n1ght sky.


 

#N.poetry

Kingdom come.
Condemmed men, crushed enemies, followed law, oversaw wealth, prayed religion; held power
I existed
I was not a pawn, but a king
Moving in all directions, holding all 
But those steps were oh so small
Lessers did these things for me
Weight fell onto my shoulders, I no longer stood tall
I had never once helped my people

Never once had I gone to a church
Never once had I fought in a war
Never once had I been to a courtroom
Never once had I bartered in market stall

I crumbled 
I fell
No longer had I gall
And I was forced to crawl
Under my own weight
A broken mule in a stallion's clothes

Gone was the crown, gone was the throne, gone were the pieces on the chessboard 
My pride was broken
My heart was shattered
My sorrow was marrow
Upon silver platter

Kingdom come.

POV Contest Winners!

Hello all! This will be a shorter contest review, cause not so many entered, but thank you to those who did! You all really surprised me. 
Another thing that was interesting about this prompt was that I was reading stories that sounded like any other story, but they were written about the person writing them.

Well, here we go!

1st-
Accident- By Silver Pen

This entry was well written and just funny enough and not to funny to make it seem odd. It was a perfect mix of good wordplay and interesting lines.

3 reviews your choice and a follow.

2nd-
The Seasoned Musician- The Bubbling Pen

This piece was a little hard to understand, but that was part of the beauty. It had so much descriptive language, and it was complicated and beautiful.

1 review of my choice and 1 of yours.

3rd- 
Bricks- Korra4Life

This piece was very clear and to the point, as well...

Ask the Writer Answers! (This is sooo overdue)

Hello! 
Here are the answers to the thing that everybody else did that I also did. *Facepalms* It's still morning.


Syl:

If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?
I almost want to answer with: My bed. But that would be cheating, even if it was true.

I think I would travel to the Indian or Siberian highlands. I know those places are super different, but I love the environment and the diversity of the animals there is fantastical. (It would probably be in a tent.)


RainAndSonder

Top five favorite lyrics? 
Not 100% sure what this means, but I'll give it a go.

Seas would rise when I gave the word, now in the morning I sleep alone, sweep the streets I used to own.
- Viva la Vida; Coldplay
I don't mind stealing bread, from the mouths of decadence.
- Hunger Strike; Temple of the Dogs
Its all one blood, don't care about your...

Cover to the radio-#LittlePenguinContest

Smoke + Mirrors
are
Swallowed by the new
at
The point of know return
in
A sky full of stars.

Hunger strike
'cause
The times, they are a-changing
kept in
Special reserve
for
Wednesday Morning at 3am.

People are strange
so
Take me to church
then drink
White Wine in the Sun
'cause they're
Unsteady

The END


 

On the turn of a wind vein. #cliffhangerqueencontest

"It was a fine day for sailing. The water was a glass canvas painted without too much effort, and the artist had used a wonderful blue color.
'A storm is coming,' I heard from behind me. I swiveled, and saw Old Lieutenant Krauss. He was a man well past mid age, and he had thin, twig like arms and a sickly pale aura that was invisible, but that everybody felt. He had an earring, which he had said was given to him by his daughter. It was only made of dulled aquamarine, so I hadn't a need of taking it.
'Bah!' I returned. 'There ain't be a cloud in the sky today!'
'A storm is coming,' The man said again quietly.
I looked out at the horizon to make sure the I wasn't going crazy, and the sky was blue as a china set. The sky would change with the sea.
Every sailor in Elatria began to believe that the...

#supposedtobe Ask and you shall be answered with only but the thing you have wished not to hear, for there are an infinite possibility of other things to be what is rather than what you want.

I asked the old man, "Do you think that life has a point?" and he answered with, "If you think there is an ultimate decision, you have only spoken once; for you. Point is subjective; maybe it is as we are supposed to be."

The sea #His-Story-Contest

She sat there by the sea as it spoke to her and whispered secrets of what it knew. 
-
He watched the eagle, soaring through unknown of and cloud, of which he would never know.
-
The woman weaved her baskets out of the bands of color; cranberries, red, blackberries, black, and sunflower, yellow.
-
The man carefully trailed, picking through with sight, smell, sound, hunting, not for murder, not bound.
-
No fear was given out, handed in parcels wrapped in gold-leaf. Only nature did that. And it didn't like to sugar-coat it.
-
But others were not so; other's slept under brick than sky; other's sipped tea made from delicate china.
And they wanted what they could never understand; living for the land instead of off it.
-
So they came, and they took, and they left only that which nature would not let it.
-
The people had to leave. They could no longer live with their...

Unsouled #psychological

   I had my hands in my pocket as I walked down the Purple Alleyway; the air was coated in Ink sprayings, and this week, they were purple. Last week, it had been Lime Lane; the Dome Lords had made it green last time.
    The air tasted stale, but it was still "Outside," or what the government told us was the Outside. By 2100—it was 2110—everything went underground, and civilization consisted of underground "Pockets". I was in what was once London, and there was zero communication for normal citizens beyond their Pocket. When I was six, I had lived in Los Angeles, but we had moved a year before the disaster, so lucky me. I hadn't seen my parents in ten years, and never would again; of course, they were both dead. I had learned to block out the pain some years ago; there was no reason to feel anymore.    
    I continued down the alleyway towards...

INFINITELY LONG CONTEST! #POV

Hello everyone!
As you can see, I'm completely addicted to contests now.

So, without furhter adue:

Prompt: Write about something that has happened to you, but do it from the view of somone else.

#POV

Word Count: Whatever you want.

Style: Also whatever you want.

Due date: Whatever you... Just kidding, January 30.

I will be judging based on creativity at how the other person interperets your view. I'll also judge based on overall cleverness and before I forget like last time... /PRIZES!/

1st place: 3 Reviews of your choice, a follow.

2nd place: 1 Review of your choice, one of mine, and 1 comment.

3rd: 1 Review of my choice, and a like.

Honerable mention: ***This piece will not be like the others!!!
This piece will be the one that makes me laugh the most.

2 Reviews of my choice.


Thank you!

ellie'sq&a

1. Why on Earth did you decide to do this q&a? 
I don't know. Why did you?
2. Yes/No: Hunger Games. Divergent. Harry Potter. Percy Jackson. 
No, Noes, Yes, Yes.
3. Have you ever read the Artemis Fowl series? (if you have, I love you) 
Yes, and I liked them. And if I might, please try reading "Dawn of Wonder, The Wakening, by Jonathan Renshaw. It's my favorite book ever.
4. When you read a book that is later made into a movie, do you usually prefer the movie or the book? 
Are you kidding me? Books are always better at telling a story, and I think that movies are more quick entertainment and action with a limitted story.
5. Yankees or Red Sox?  
I'm not much of a basketball fan. ;)
6. Who are you rooting for to win the Super Bowl? 
Not much of a baseball fan either.
7. What is your favorite subject in school? 
Everything, but...

SHORT POEM CONTEST WINNERS

Thanks to all for supporting me so heavily on my second ever contest, and I so enjoyed each entry.
Details:
Prompt 1: Write a short poem that relates to a life and death cycle. It doesn't have to say any of this in it, just be related to it.  
Word Count: 4 words to 4 sentences. 
Prompt 2: Write a poem that relates to the experience of a superpower- flying, breathing underwater, teleporting, ect. 
Word Count:  5 words to 5 sentences. 
Prompt 3: Write a poem that relates to the feeling of losing something—it could be something as mundane as a quarter, or as important as a family member. 
5 words to 5 sentences.

You can find the original piece here.
Before I judge anything, I want to say that this sight fills me with joy, and you guys are pretty much my brothers and sisters.


Prompt 1:

1st: Majestically Awkward Mantee
the solitary of living in hidden deserts 
under descending...

Ask the writer (joining the bandwagon!)

A few people have picked up this trend again (which I heard happened about six months ago) and I thought I'd give it a try.
I'm at a bit of writers block, and there's nothing like a little self embellishment to clear that up, you know? ;D

But anyways, I thought it would be cool to see what things people assume about me (and I'm also looking forward to what things I have assumed or wondered about other writers.

First, a few—non copied, definitely—rules.

1. Please only ask three questions.
2. Also, only ask questions that you think could get more than one or two word answers.
3. Finally, I have the liberty to not answer a question, although I will supply a reason.

Thank you, and to, um, answers?

Paperbirdq&a

what's the story behind your profile picture? 
I just, really... Like it, I guess? It's an image I found online that I can't seem to stop using everywhere.
when you start a "free writing" piece, do you like the font better when it's the editing font or the published font? 
I actually haven't noticed a difference. Although I did see one piece that didn't have a massive first letter, which PLEASE, someone show me how to do that!
what movie scarred you for life as a child?  does it still freak you out? 
I mean, I don't remember anything really. I didn't do scary movies.
look up "horoscope personalities."  which one fits you? 
Aquarius or Gemini. 
do you consider yourself to a good writer? (be honest) 
Yes, especially at cranking things out, but there are many categories I could get better at.
so, as mentioned earlier, the q&a trend was all the rage in september/october.  do you know who started...

Poetic Dreams (they like to whisper funny things into my ears)

Monotonous singing, minimal guests, who didn't care to listen, to the erupting soundfest, in a theatre to large.
*Dec. 29th* after performing on stage in a shopping mall.                                                                                                                                                                                                                

Together in bond, stretched before time, a swing set in pine, a factory in forest, over plains stretched out yond. 
*Jan. 2nd* remembering what it was before divorce. ...

The Un-Awakening and Spirit Power, Chapter 9 & 10 of: A Kingdom in Chaos- The Awakening; Book 1

They arrived at the summoning hall five minutes early, along with Dean, Piper, and the “dove girl.” Jerad still didn’t know her name. Corrick and William, inseparable as ever, made their way into the room exactly on time. But the two boys did not come alone; a lion and a wolverine were trailing behind them. A few more boys who he had seen in the dorm also came in accompanied by their spirit animals.
All of them, expecting Master Hunt to come in, were surprised. A short unfamiliar woman walked into the room. She had auburn hair, and a worklike, but not unkind, expression on her face. A snow fox stood next to her. Jerad had no doubt it was the animal that had gotten him into the academy.
    “My name is Master Olivia. I will be teaching you how to un-awaken your spirit animals.” But before she could continue, a voice said, “What? We’re not going to do...

The Vistas Beyond

Sub-Marine

I look out through the round iron-reinforced glass, and watch the alien forests drift in odd patterns as scales drift by the windows in splashes of dull, juxtaposed by the kaladescope of bright patterns. I hear the yelling and laughing of men behind me, but I don't understand their joy; all I feel is sweat and all I smell is brass. As I turn back to the window, I see the seafloor dropping off beaneath us as the craft drifts deeper into the clutches of the sea.

Out of the Dust and Into the Cold



Oh, just wonderful. How the am I supposed to “contribute” to this project—and every other project ever—when all other people ever do is reject my ideas?
   “Ah, no,” Liam says. He smiles, showing off his clean, shiny teeth, pretending that he’s the best person in the world, and as if he enjoys my frustration—definitely no to the first one, and probably yes to the second.
   “I agree with Liam,” Lisa says. Of course she does. “Putting chowder on the menu is a terrible idea.” She likes him.
   “Well fine,” I reply. “Why don’t we put all of the stupidest foods in the world on the menu, so that no one will come to buy any of our food—which is great for business by the way—and we’ll get a bad grade. Eh?”
Lisa immediately frowns.“Ms. Garcia! Can you come here and talk to Angie?” she shouts much too loudly, especially for me being next to her. Always a tattletale.
“Lisa,...

Elipsism #myfirstcontest

The soundwaves of


C
 O
  L
   O
    R
Encapsulate
            The
                Spinning
                      Top
                            Of The
                                U N I
                            E          V
                               S R E  
in a flower of a magnolia blossom just fallen
in the living wind of the 
S
         T
          O
                R
                    M
        ...

2019

2019; hello to life.

Recipe Title: No idea.
Recipe Time: Way to long.

Produces: More confusion, about a hundred batches.

Ingredient List:
Zest of recordings
Mix with a cup of music 
And writing- to taste

Slowly add candor- as much as on hand
but make sure to add fistfulls of sunshine and snowcapped mountains
then put a few drops of sorrow in, to remind you of the sound of sweeted love

Add smooth stones to skip along the water with a direct course towards entrancement
And slopes of drifting snow to freeze through the cold to make it warm.
and 1 dream to remind us of who we are.

And an infinite amount of misdirection and confusion with kitchen fires and burning food.

In essence, it's life.

Short POEM Contests: Enter in the comments! :-D

I don't know why I did this (I guess it sounded really fun) so here I am!
If you don't like poetry, you probably won't like this.
After reading so many pieces on the sight, I want to see what you guy's beautiful minds could come up with.
Here's the catch:

Prompt 1: Write a short poem that relates to a life and death cycle. It doesn't have to say any of this in it, just be related to it. 
Word Count: 4 words to 4 sentences.
Prompt 2: Write a poem that relates to the experience of a superpower- flying, breathing underwater, teleporting, ect.
Word Count:  5 words to 5 sentences.
Prompt 3: Write a poem that relates to the feeling of losing something—it could be something as mundane as a quarter, or as important as a family member.
5 words to 5 sentences.

Due Date: January 14

And remember to answer in the comments (for your convienence and...

The Musings Of A Burnt Piece Of Air #fire

I died once.
It wasn't unpleasant.
Just inert.
There was nothing to do.
No one to keep warm.
It was nice.

I find it so interesting they keep trying to save me.
Don't they know it's nice to rest?
I see them do it around me all the time.
Maybe they enjoy my company when I'm alive rather than dead.
Someone to talk to is better than no one at all.

So I sat there until I died, and took respite.
Then I worked again.
But that was okay.
It felt good to help people.
After all, I was a product of others, not my own.
And in fact, it let me think when I burned quietly.

Rational thought had always been natural for me;
maybe it is for everything
I wonder what others can think?

Maybe death and life don't matter.
Maybe they're just two stepping stones that travels back to themselves.
But you can't have a journey with...

Elipsism #myfirstcontest

The soundwaves of
C
 O
  L
   O
    R
Encapsulate
            The
                Spinning
                      Top
                            Of The
                                U N I
                            E          V
                               S R E  
in a flower of a magnolia blossom just fallen
in the living wind of the 
S
         T
          O
                R
                    M
        ...

The Musings Of A Burnt Piece Of Air #fire

I died once.
It wasn't unpleasant.
Just inert.
There was nothing to do.
No one to keep warm.
It was nice.

I find it so interesting they keep trying to save me.
Don't they know it's nice to rest?
I see them do it around me all the time.
Maybe they enjoy my company when I'm alive rather than dead.
Someone to talk to is better than no one at all.

So I sat there until I died, and took respite.
Then I worked again.
But that was okay.
After all, I was a product of others, not my own.

Rational thought had always been natural for me;
I wonder what others can think?

Maybe death and life don't matter.
Maybe just a stepping stone that travels in a circle.
But you can't have a shape with two stones.
So what's the third?

#myfirstcontest

Sorry mate, they came through yesterday.

Contest Winners!

    I am so grateful to how much support I got from this contest, and I can't believe 10 people entered!
Thank you so much to all of you!
    They were all fantastic pieces, and I really think I got something from each of them.
Some were poetry, and some were short stories, and they all the captured the idea of writing about something that wasn't like you, which can be one of the hardest things to do.
    It's basically not being able to use the internet for anything *Exasperated Gasp* which is so hard.
I often find myself making characters and worlds like myself and my own so I have a building block, so I wanted to see what you guys could come up with, and you did a spectacular job.
So here are the:
 . , , , , , , , .
|WINNERS!!!| (And of course you're all winners).
` ' ' ' ' ' ' '...

Pancake #believe

The earth was flat, I just knew it.
All the predictions were false because space travel wasn't even real!
And yes, besides the fact I don't ever look at the news, I have only ever experienced one rocket launch ever——which failed.
But besides that, how do you explain the government cutting off feeds and ruining my dreams of aliens?
There were some very good artists out there, and I had recently taken spherical lessons online to gather information on how I could fabricate the earth to make sure someone else could do it. 
I also began to take photoshop lessons, and I made a perfect representation; or as perfect as an amateur designer could make.
It didn't look real, per se, but people with years of experience would be able to make something perfect. 
Wait, but if they think the earth is round, they have no reference point.
They're making up what the earth looks like. Maybe it's not a...

Red #23foraarushi

For years, I have tried to find blue, but every time I try to make you just right, you decide to turn purple.

The Rose #ManateeContest

She was alone,
but every night she was kissed
and she drank in all the love until the next day came,
and it kept her from withering
Every night,
the snow came and let its soft flakes brush against
her cheeks,
which already blushed without provacation
She was the only spot of red in the shifting mass
of white and grey
but she liked it that way
She had the entire universe as her companion
And underneath the stars,
she danced without movement,
but it was the most wonderous dance of all,
and she swayed to the song of the mountains
and she danced in her dress of layers,
each more tender than the last
The rose never once lost her velvety crimson coat,
for when the night disapated,
she watched the world with her eyes and thanked it,
so it never felt the need to remove her petals.

The rose sits on her not so lonely mountaintop,
with her...

Growing Down (April Poetry Piece that I will probably forget about)

He begins with, 
"Thirteen
Starting here, not began, haven't started, new lifespan.
Writing lines, black as coal, broken heart, mending soul.
Go to sleep, find light rest, open pages, I'm the guest.
Twelve
Countless hours, spent inside, painting backwards, with no guide.
Puzzling pieces, shoved apart, finally fit, perfect art.
Simply honest, yelling loud, hitting pillows, no longer cowed.
Eleven
Dashing snow, stringing words, laughing silent, singing birds.
Reclaimed innocent, back outside, rushing fields, taken stride.
Words are spoken, opened eyes, racing thoughts, ever skies.
Ten
Milestone here, doubly so, interesting premise, reality although... 
Music has entered, notes flying by, passing in colors, of sunset paved sky.
Cliche in a thought, clashing emotions, icicles standing, in a frozen ocean.
Nine
Back below two, open to change, almost forgotten, the fear and the pain.
Living in air, in many birds' lives, the ocean is seen, as white dove dives.
Drifting in levels, of legos and letters, reading is trivial, building...

The Rose #ManateeContest

She was alone,
but every night she was kissed
and she drank in all the love until the next day came,
and it kept her from withering
Every night,
the snow came a let it's soft flakes brush against
her cheeks,
which already blushed without provacation
She was the only spot of red in the shifting mass
of white and grey
but she liked it that way
She had the entire universe as her companion
And underneath the stars,
she danced without movement,
but it was the most wonderous dance of all,
and she swayed to the song of the mountains
and she danced in her dress of layers,
each more tender than the last
The rose never once lost her velvety crimson coat,
for when the night disapated,
she watched the world with her eyes and thanked it,
so it never felt the need to remove her petals.

The rose sits on her not so lonely mountaintop,
with her...

#oneblue Run On Sentence.

If you asked me if this was a run on sentence, I would most definatly say yes; and the fact of what I want to write could not be simply contrite—and I'm sure I want to tell you that in my flight—and through the blue emotion of ringing music and flowing words, the pulsing beat can never stop thrumming through the simple barrier of the world. (p.189,592 of life.)

#oneblue Run On Sentence.

If I told you this was a run on sentence, then you would be right; and the fact of what I want to write could not be simply contrite—and I'm sure I want to tell you that in my flight—and through the blue emotion of ringing music and flowing words, the pulsing beat can never stop thrumming through the simple barrier of the world. (pg. 189,592 of life.)

My playlist of songs that I listen to and that I know I won't have to sigh and go to the next song eight times. (In the inspiration of Catherinely Me.)

Following a one-other-person-tradition, here is my playlist—72 (I think)— Won't Let You Down, for obvious reasons. These songs are especially good to listen to on long car rides at night.

A Sky Full Of Stars
Africa- Toto
American Pie- Don Meclean
Amnesty- Glen Phillips
Apologize- Onerepublic
Best Day Of My Life- American Authors
Bleeding Out- Imagine Dragons
Bohemuan Rhapsody- Queen
Boulavard Of Broken Dreams- Green Day
Breakeven- The Script
Carolina In My Mind- James Taylor
Centuries- Fall Out Boy
Clocks- Coldplay
Cough Syrup- Young The Giant
Counting Stars- Onerepublic
Demons- Imagine Dragons
Don't You Worry Child- Swedish House Mafia
Dream On- Aerosmith
Dust In The Wind- Kansas
Eye Of The Tiger- Survivor
Fire And Rain- James Taylor
Fix You- Coldplay
Flaws- Bastille
Go- Glen Phillips
Hall Of Fame- The Script
Hey Brother- Avicci
Hey There Delilah- Plain White T's
Hey, Soul Sister- Train
Hills Of Connemara- Gaelic Storm
Ho Hey- Lumineers
Hooked On A Feeling- Blue Swede
Hotel California- The...

A Pair of Poems

The outsider

The Insider.
Barefoot on the grass, breathless with hair in my eyes.
I look at the sheer face behind me, and smile.
It called me here. It asked me to come.
I had run up the dancing hills, reflecting their sunlight in the dazzling, pouring rain.
I climbed the dusty weather-stained crags with eager fingers.
I made it to the top, and stood with my eyes cast over the ocean thousand’s of feet below.
I jumped, and I fell miles in the air, playing with it and laughing all the way.
And then, just as I was about to hit the water, I flew up, and up, and up; a golden eagle in the mist of the morning.
Nothing between the sky but clouds, which are easily breached.
-----------
I feel the air beneath my feet, the rain against my soaking skin, the sunlight silhouetted by the moon just rising.
Time slows to a crawl, and then… it stops.
The...

Empty

The snowflake drifted down in silence, thinking to itself. 
I wonder if it's like this forever?
Soon enough, the snowflake reached it's dissimalar companions on the ground, and lied there for a while.
Again, it wondered.
Is there any more than this?
A crunch of powder, and soon, the snowflake began to travel, lifting up, then clunking down.
Peculiar. It thought.
Then the ride ended, and silence befell the snowflake again.
It turned itself over towards the sky and wondered if the others where the same as it.
Then again, nothing can last for very long. The snowflake was carried away on a gentle breeze, and I thought I heard it whisper, "I wonder what's next.
It settled in an auburn spruce, which refused to shed it's coat to the blinding white.
Then I heard it sigh, and waited for an answer. None came.

 

I have nothing to do today...

People have said many mind twisting tongue boggling... Wait. Nvm.
Some people said have many...
I has once... Dammit.
As you can see, I english very welly.
Just kidding. I english goodly.
Oh no, that was copywrited!
(Shh, stop telling me I can delete it)
I can fix it though,
A s y o u c a n s e e, I e n g l i s h v e r y w e l l y.
J u  s t k i d d i n g. I e n g l i s h g o o d l y.

Hah, fear me computer generated program checker thingy.

I can tell that nobody has laughed once, even in their head, sooo-
Why did the chicken cross the road?
B e c a u s e t h a t w a s c o p y w r i t e d.
That must be why all...

Growing Down (April Poetry Piece that I will probably forget about)

He begins with, 
"Thirteen
Starting here, not began, haven't started, new lifespan.
Writing lines, black as coal, broken heart, mending soul.
Go to sleep, find light rest, open pages, I'm the guest.
Twelve
Countless hours, spent inside, painting backwards, without a guide.
Puzzling pieces, shoved apart, finally fit, perfect art.
Simply honest, yelling loud, hitting pillows, no longer shroud.
Eleven
Dashing snow, stringing words, laughing silent, singing birds.
Reclaimed innocent, back outside, rushing fields, taken stride.
Words are spoken, opened eyes, racing thoughts, ever skies.
Ten
Milestone here, doubly so, interesting premise, reality although... 
Music has entered, notes flying by, passing in colors, of sunset paved sky.
Cliche in a thought, clashing emotions, icicles standing, in a frozen ocean.
Nine
Back below two, open to change, almost forgotten, the fear and the pain.
Living in air, up near the sky, the ocean is seen, as white dove flies
Drifting in levels, of lego's and letters, reading is trivial, building...

CatherinelyMe Q&A

1. Have you ever found yourself questioning your sexual preference when you met someone? If so, who? 
Nope. I have friends who are guys, and friends who are girls. No more to say on the matter.
2. Complete which one pairs with your gender (or body type) 
Nope nope nope nope nope nope nope. Jeez, I'm only thirteen.
3. How many people have you dated, and what is the numbers girls:guys? 
-4
4. What do you think of this pun? 
   "What was Forrest Gump's password? 
    1forest1." (If you don't get it say it out loud lol) 
... Slight dissapointment and annoyance, although I laughed a bit.
5. Who is your favorite YouTuber? 
Mumbo Jumbo.
6. What song is currently stuck in your head. 
Wake me up, by Avicii
7. Who is your favorite singer? 
Ed Sheeran or coldplay.
8. Who is your favorite girl group? 
Bananarama
9. Who is your favorite boy band? 
One direction...
Jk, um,...

The Summoning Hall and Bonding, Chapter 7 & 8 of: A Kingdom in Chaos- The Awakening; Book 1

Jerad awoke to darkness, like on the day of choosing. It felt like so long ago that the snow fox arrived at his door. It was mostly quiet, except for the rustling of sheets. There was a large, oaken grandfather clock that he had overlooked the night before. The hands read 5:54 pm. Jerad told himself it would be good to get to breakfast early; so as quietly as he could, he opened his drawer and pulled out one of the sets of clothes. He saw another door he had overlooked marked “bathroom.” Jerad stepped inside. There were two showers that stood at the far end of the room, A wooden bathtub, and three stalls for changing. He put on his combat clothing in the stall; it was snug, and it fit him well. Before he opened the door back into the dormitory, the door opened for him as the boy named Corrick stepped in.
“Oh, you're in here.” Corrick...

Acception and The Academy, Chapter 5 & 6 of: A Kingdom in Chaos- The Awakening; Book 1

Jerad waited for the rest of the contestants to take their turns. When the last person exited the building, Master Hunt called in a booming voice,
“Follow me.”
The competitors ambled on through the rain, seemingly going towards the northern end of the city. This would have been perfectly normal, except that there was nothing at that side of the city besides the northern gates. Then he had a spark of memory; when he had just turned thirteen two years ago, Garon had told him the academy was outside of the city. The other competitors did not seem unsure about where they were going. They had probably been much better informed than him.
The shuffling of feet stopped and Jerad peeked around the line to see they had come to the gates.
“Academy business,” Master Hunt told the two guards. One of the men nodded to the Master, and the pair heaved the bar off the face of the door. ...

Extraordinary in the Ordinary

Unnamed

Without a name or label
A heading with no frame
A simple story told to you
A poem without a name
   Obscure without a title
   Yet known by all to say
   And now I tell you poet
   Lines for you to weigh
A word is much then a sentence, or even more so for a page.
    
 

Polar Opposite

Who am I?

    I sat on the front porch, staring out into a red sun, coating the smoke of the factories in a rainbow sheen. My hands interlaced, and I'm bent down sitting on the first two steps—out of three—that lead up to my house. It was an old broken down thing, paint chipping off the walls and shattered beams barely holding up the frail structure.
    Those painted sunsets in the sky had me confused; how is it that someone can be so many things? I realized that the color wasn't natural, but honestly, I had nowhere else to turn than artificial. My mother still worked eight jobs and didn't get an ounce of sleep, and my eight siblings didn't make it any easier; I worked the local gas station and ate nothing better than food I bought for the family, which mostly consisted of microwaved ramen and stale un-organic bread. 
    People always say they wish their...

The Quartz Pavillion, Chapter 4 of: A Kingdom in Chaos- The Awakening; Book 1

The eighty who had come first trudged through a light rain behind Master Hunt. Ten minutes after the end of the event, water started trickling from the sky until the trickle built into a flood. All of the townspeople watching the event had hurried back to their dwellings, having no reason to stay out in the storm. Jerad observed all of the other competitors quietly whispering to each other about how they had gotten there first.
    “How did you do?” said the tall kid in a whisper from behind him. Jerad was momentarily startled, but then answered,
“I got twenty sixth, what about you?” matching the boy’s quiet tone.
The boy grinned “Twenty fourth, but if it came down to a swimming competition, I’d be in last place; that one really set me back. Oh, and by the way, my name is Derrick.”
Jerad hadn’t realized he had been one place behind the other boy.
He looked up and...

Reboot: Chapter One of- Shattered Sky, FIVR

Chapter 1: Reboot
    What time is it? I thought, looking up towards a black sky. I was sure I had just looked up at the sun and it was shining. But the ground had shook—I mean seriously shook— and it had become dark. The streetlamps hadn’t turned on either. That was odd, because whenever the light level was low, they switched on. I looked up to a loudspeaker, expecting an explanation. None came.
    First I theorized that I had been knocked out by whatever shook the ground, and that I had possibly been lying on the street for a good few hours. That wouldn’t make sense either, because although this street wasn’t mainstream, a few people would have definitely come by and done something.
    It was also extremely quiet. Too quiet. I didn’t realize before how much white noise there was when there was no panic.
And when I looked, the moon wasn’t in the sky,...

The Blotted Poet

Some ask why my poems are morose.
Yet they seem to marvel all the same.
Some about death, inevitability, loss.
Some in raw brutality.
My dear writers, I want to be honest.
I am not claiming there is not good in the world.
But you know the good.
I am only here to preach the bad so you can see.
That not all exists in harmony.
That not everything is as it should be.
So this is why, my dear readers,
I write with a broken quill and blotted ink.
To open your eyes.

Once the World Was...

Once the world was gone.

Once the world was silent. 
There was nothing to shatter the screaming quiet
of the crashing waves and the yelling of the breeze.
But yet there was not a sound to be heard.


Once the world was colorless.
No crystal waters.
No glowing sun. 
No forest creatures.
No fireworks.
No moonlit flowers.
Just cold, sharp, hard grey lines,
stark against the nothing.


Once the world was dull.
Dampened.
Broken.
Left to toil in the bloody heat
of an angry star.



Once the world was happy.
No hardship.
No death.
No anger.
No rage.
No pain.

No jealousy.
No lies.
No love.No peace.No freedom.


Only sadness lived then.
But what is better? 
Then what is worse?
When all that's left is nothing.
The broken ashes of a raging fire long gone out.
Once the world was gone.......... And then it wasn't.


 

#PlayTheGame: The Ruler

Decadence was my mask, my facade to hide behind.
The pawns are let free.
The bishops left in the light.
My castles taken away from me.
My horses in the knight.
And lastly my beloved, swiftly in her sleep,
not a word was spoken, for not long last my grief.

The Invitation and The Trials, Chapter 2 and 3 of: A Kingdom in Chaos- The Awakening; Book 1

He picked up the slip of paper and read:
    
Jerad Tavish,    
Time of event, 9:30 a.m. on the eve of the full moon,
Do not bring anything on your person.

    Greetings,
Master Hunt


Before he even finished reading the note he was dashing towards Garon’s door. Then remembering himself and what was at stake, he politely knocked. He heard Garon get up from his chair and walk over to the door, the clomping of his boots echoing through the floorboards. The door opened and Jerad, bringing up his most respectful self asked “Could you possibly let me attend the trials?”
“What?” Garon said, though he clearly understood.
Bringing up his courage, the apprentice said, “I asked you if I could attend the trials; they’re tomorrow,” handing Garon the note as he spoke.
“Did you forge this letter? I've seen Master Hunt’s handwriting, and I know yours is not as elegant.” Jerad’s handwriting was fine,...

Attached

Earth
is
the
anchor
in
the
depths
of
wonder.

Emotions
 _______   tossed
                _______   around
                               ________   carelessly

        But                                      _________ by
it              is                                                 ___  force,  
     in          the                                                     
_____ but
    will             of      the                                                 ____unknown
      iron          that      keeps   it                                               _______to
 on    the      bottom,       not        ...

The Beginning: A Kingdom In Chaos- The Awakening; Book 1

He woke up early, feeling rested.
Remembering what day it was, he tried to fall back asleep, tired as if he had been awake for a week. For the past three years, he had waited hopefully when he was twelve and thirteen; resignedly when he was fourteen; and now fifteen had come along. He had decided he would already have been picked, so today was going to be long and uneventful.
Today, a Sunday, the first Sunday of December, was the day that determined if he would go to the trial grounds to be tested. Every year, the prestigious Academy of Eludria chooses one hundred eighty townsfolk and nobles to attempt the trials. Only thirty students are granted access to the academy. The trials are a grueling set of challenges meant to test endurance, strength, and intellect.  
There were two reasons he knew he wouldn't get picked. One: He was dropped on the doorstep of a scribe’s shop when...

A sigh

I walk through the dark, moonlit grove.
At first it seems nerve-racking, but then it settles into an unwieldy calm.
Out of the trees and onto the vast plains which stretch out to the ocean as the last vestiges of sunlight are being grasped and pulled to the other side of the earth. 
In this moment, there is naught but me and the landscape.
I make it to a cluster of windblown trunks; a bulwark against the never-ceasing attacker that howls at it's enemies.
I look out of over the sea, an ever-churning soft blue light, which penetrates even to it's deepest depths.
The moon is nature's lighthouse, a mirror that not only reflects but projects. It is there, shining against the sea not to warn, but to welcome.
A crow speaks, and I listen. It sounds like a story in the paper thin night air.
Then there is no noise. Nothing for an entire split second.
i sigh. and...

Censorship

Will anybody tell me more about the censorship on this site? I'm not well informed.

Reviews!

I absolutely love this site (not quite to death, as I don't believe I want that just yet) and I wanted to get more into others' pieces. Alylee03 did this as well, and I thought it was a good idea. And since why not, I will read 3 (hah, marketing!) pieces of each of the first ten people to comment here.

Thanks!

Invisible Notes

There is a man.
A man who sees what none of us can.
He stands on the second floor of a parking lot, beret on his messy salt and pepper hair, with a guitar in his hand and a speaker to his left.
From up there, he plays to the swaths of people going by. No one know's his name, yet they clap for him without even seeing his face.
His playing is filled with passion, but he doesn't sing. He just feels.
The acoustic's of a parking lot are quite adept, as I learned when I went to my car. I walked up to him and listened.
He played the strings with an energy that wasn't practice, or natural gift. It was just his.
I tipped him a five, and he just kept playing.
Even now, I can hear him while writing this on a brightly lit computer screen. 
A man who has a talent chooses to use...

A sigh

I walk through the dark, moonlit grove.
At first it seems nerve-racking, but then it settles into an unwieldy calm.
Out of the trees and onto the vast plains which stretch out to the ocean as the last vestiges of sunlight are being pulled to the other side of the earth. 
In this moment, there is nothing but me and the landscape.
It is a truly raw feeling.
I make it to a cluster of windblown trunks; a bulwark against the wind.
I look out of over the sea, an ever-churning soft blue light.
The moon is natures' lighthouse, reflecting against the water not to warn, but to welcome.
i sigh. and it fills the entire world.

#paperbirdcontest Needle Forest

Pricking, poking, dark green pines.
Stretch up to the bright blue sky.
Birdsong rings throughout the world.
Scuffling through the roots of wood.

The needles stretch around me. I am surrounded in falling, darting spirits. I hear their singing; melancholy, but with a touch of magic and intrigue. They realize that winter is coming, where they will be buried by the sorrows of the sky in the frozen tears of life.
    Soon the ground will not be visible, but the leaves of the spindly trunks will continue to snow down on my walking form. I exhale and see my breath stark white against the rest of the world. In this moment, standing in the pines, I lay down and gaze to the haven of peace. I stare into the air that scars the world in its shroud. It is quiet here.

Psychosis

Psychosis
I woke up in my bed, and it was early morning. I had a terrible dream. I was coming back from a concert and my car had ran out of gas. I had walked to a gas station, and two men had almost jumped me. Afterwards, a drunk driver had almost ran me over when I was crossing the street, and my entire side was scraped up. After I went to the gas station, my sister, who had died at six in a car crash, had come toward me and attacked me. It wouldn’t seem bad, but you know how it is. The odd part was that I had been to that concert last night. Still feeling tired, I closed my eyes again.
When I opened them I was at the gas station. My heartbeat became louder in my chest. I closed them again, and I woke up in my bed, sunlight coming through the curtains. I quickly walked...

#OdeToSomeFormOfWriting

Ode to SomeFormOfWriting.
Ode to all of those who have stood up for themselves and others.
Ode to those who have rebelled for against a cause they don't believe in.
Ode to the ones who find themselves in a place that they don't like and change it.
Ode to the bravery of the good people in this world (all of us).
Ode to people who can say no.
Ode to all the people who have contributed to building communities. One for all.
Ode to you, whoever you are, for being alive.

Ode to SomeFormOfWriting for being a challenger, a seeker, and a writer. For bleeding for us, for standing by our side, and most of all, for being able to let go.

Torn

I am falling apart at the seams. My life has been thrown into chaos once unknown. I put on a face for my friends, and sometimes I'm able to forget what was done to me and what is happening because of their laughter. But come my lonesome, I crumble. I fall into the darkness of what is going to befall of me.
    I don't know how much longer I can keep myself thinking I'm going to be okay. For now I have enough of a grip to continue. 
But the rope is fraying, and my hands are being ripped to pieces. I have nowhere to go. 

Once the World Was...

Once the world was gone.

Nothing existed except for Quintessence, the god of perfection. One of His eyes was bright yellow, and the other was white; he had deep blue skin.
Then suddenly, out of the nothing, there was something. It rained down and stuck to Him. Some say it was the light of life, and thus the night sky and stars were born.
    Intrigued by the idea that there was something other than nothing, He decided to mold the void into planets which were precisely circular.  
He created the world out of nothing. 
Trees, flowers, and plants, all of which were pristine, and followed a mathematical pattern.
He created the sea, which was glassy and clear.
He made the cliffs, His rocky sentinels, but all of them had a defined geometric pattern.

He sat back and admired all that He had created—which is much more than is listed.
Yet... He was lonely.
So He created another living, thinking thing. It's name was Paragon.
 ...

Time

It has been done.
It has been said by countless others before.
It doesn't make it any easier.
There is never enough.
There will never be enough.

I break ties, kill men, topple kingdoms, ruin friendships.
I make it so nothing can ever be perfect.
I have murdered everything good that has ever happened, I will continue to do so.
People pray for me not to come to them, but I disregard their cries.
The sun and stars will bow before me one day in mercy, which I will not give them.
The universe will fluctuate, but I will eventually decide to end it.

I have destroyed all that has ever been and ever will be. I am merciless, and am heartless. 
Yet my only focus is continuing everything. I am death, life, hope, truth, fear, lies, freedom, hate, respite, peace.
    I am Time.

Personal Essay Competition: Making Change

Look

Progress:
    1. advance or develop toward a better, more complete, or more modern state.
    This is the exact definition of progress, although what is means is up to you.
   
Look over the entire history of the world. The Big Bang, Dinosaurs, Cavemen, Columbus, Evolution... Bam!  Then there was now. 
    Now is such a fantastic moment. There's no thought that's put into now, no worrying about past mistakes or anticipating future problems.
    So many people would disagree with this statement. In the now, they wallow in their grief; in the now, they wail about what will become of them because of their mistakes.
    And everyone has a right to feel that way. And sometimes it's necessary to do so to become whole again. 
   And I could honestly say things are worse than they have ever been and ever will ever be. Look at all that has been dejected,...

The true understanding of peace

I ask of you now, let me go.
The crystalized ice can no longer stop itself from devouring me and taking my soul with it.
I ask of you now, let me rest.
My time has come to an end, with the sun rending flesh and searing bone.
I ask of you now, let me run.
The wind will carry me to the place I desire.
I ask of you now, let me cry.
May the water of my heart seep into the lungs of the earth with a soft sigh.
I ask of you now, let me whisper.
Let me speak to the mind of the world and quietly tell it my secrets.

I ask of you now, let me die.
Lay me down in the golden light and leave. Leave me to lay peacefully, then wait next to me and watch as the vultures slowly devour my body, and time slowly eats my bones.
By then, I'll be...

Your World in Three Senses

The Devil is Cold

As the keel of the schooner crested the massive wave, I gritted my teeth, and feeling the salt in my eyes, I clutched onto the halyard as if it were life or death—which it was. I heard the indistinct screaming from every direction, and blocked it out. If I, or any of the four men behind me let go, we would sink to the bottom of this damned, godforsaken graveyard. So through it all, through the crashing thunder and lightning, I held on like a madman, for I would survive. Then it went death quite, and the men all over the deck went silent with it. It was surreal. 
    Then one voice rang out in the ear shattering nothingness. "We're in the middle of the damn beast! Batten down the hatches!" 
    Quickly, the oiled machine began the task of tying down the sails, and I climbed up the rigging. Quickly making it to the boom, I...

the truth.

What? Where? Help! What's going on. There's this, than that. How am I going to cope?
Alright, I do this a specifically plotted period of time, then switch to this, but then... Arghhh! Everything isn't perfect. I don't know what to do, and I never will! Everything is horrible and it's never going to end.
1.U N C O N C S I O U S L Y  2.M U R D E R I N G  3.M Y S E L F.
Okay. Take a deep breath. Slow down. It doesn't matter that you didn't do this properly, or that you spent too much time doing something. Just breath, and do whatever you want to do, and don't beat yourself up later.
(L)              (T)                (M) 
(Y)             (O)            (Y)
(I)                           (S)
(N)                             (E) ...

#IAmPoem Prompt

I am thoughtful and intellectual.
I wonder how it feels to live as a released, crazy child; not the carefully constructed being I am.
I hear sunlight.
I see crystal.
I want to feel nature.
I am erratic and flustered.
I pretend to know what I’m doing.
I feel everything; happiness, fear, annoyance, humor, freedom.
I touch the ocean.
I worry about what I will become.
I cry about what I should have done.
I am shattered.
I understand that I don’t need to be anything— easier said than done.
I say to live fully.
I dream about magic.
I try to be perfect. I fail. I don’t mind.
I hope to be able to accept myself.
I am complete.

#reptilianq&a

 
1. What's your zodiac sign, and do you think it fits you? If not, is there a different sign that you think would fit you better?  
I'm a virgo. Umm... I don't know? I'm not a girl, but I am virgin. 
    Anyways, I think the description fits me pretty well. It says loyal, analytical, kind, hardworking, practical. I feel like I'm mostly all of those things. I can already tell I'm going to over analyze and spend way too much work on this. So I guess I'm not very practical...

2. What's the time right now where you are?  
It is currently 11:21. Pacific Time Zone.

3. How many languages do you speak? Ones you're learning or half-learned a year ago but kinda forgot about count too.  
I
speak perfect English. (Cause' I have spoken it my entire life.) I also took Spanish for seven years, but I had terrible teachers so I didn't really learn...

10 Second Essays

Abstract Philosophy

  1. Every time you pick up a book—regardless of whether you have read it before or not—you will understand the world a bit better.
  2. If you could be anyone in the world, realize that you are already the best person to be.
  3. Wherever you are going, realize that it's the right place, so you can live in the journey up to that moment.
  4. Any time you express yourself fully, you can truly understand what it means to be yourself.
  5. To be accepted, you must first accept yourself.

Original

I    
    doN
          T'
            KnOw
                    HOw
                            To
                                Be 
                                    Pro
Perly 
                                                 N O R M A L
                            No 
                                MAT
                                      t er how
                                                    haRd I TrY
                            I
t JuST
                                DoesN'T              wor
                                        Se         t         oUt                    im a-
                                            em                                         n   oddb
                                                                                                all                 F  

                                       but                                                                         L  
                                    I                    MinD                                                     E   
                                      dO      NOt                aT                                           S
                                                                            LeaSt                                Y
                                                                                        I
M AlloWeD TO bE M
                                                
                                                    

 

Drifting Away

I (also) made this song quite recently. Here's the original track: https://soundcloud.com/noah-olorin/drifting-away-by-noah/s-3Glf2.
Strumming for Guitar.
-----> Down 
-----> Down 
<----- Up 
-----> Up 
-----> Down 

This is how I originally drafted it. 
Capo: None. 
G C F Am 2x 

Verse:
G        C            F      Am
Woah, oh oh oh oh oh 2x
G        C        F
Just follow me
G        C            F      Am
To a place where were all free

Pre Chorus:
G       C
What if
F                    Am
Can you just imagine
G  C  F  C
If we lived

Chorus:
F        G
In a world where
Am                   C              F               G
Our minds could just keep driftin' away oh
F        G
In a...

Shattered


The moment was ephemeral. Soon to be fragmented by the truth of reality, soon to be broken as It comes rushing upon me, a torrent of frozen emotion; static for me to view as my life crumbles before me.
    Peace? To be ended. Love? To be destroyed. Life? To be taken.
    And I? I am shattered. A broken stained glass window of the reaper's chapel, brushed away by the melodious, yet inevitable singing of death.
Imperfection is my being, distortion is my trade. Illusion is all I have ever known.
    But yet... I crave for more. I crave to stand at the top of the world and pour out my soul. Scream louder than the raging wind and harder than the gods themselves ever could. I would yell in defiance at the world that I had the right to suffer!
    And through all of that, my thoughts fly by faster than light. Pieces...

10 Second Essays

Abstract Philosophy

Every time you pick up a book—regardless of wether you have read it before or not—you will understand the world a bit better.

Burn


He reached out for the blaring alarm clock. Tiredly fumbling with the button, the sound ceased. One of the only things he hated about high school was 6 o’clock. Every day for the past two months, (on the weekdays at least,) he woke up at six. Sighing, Sam slowly crawled out of bed then pulled on his jeans and favorite Volcom t-shirt. He grabbed his backpack and took his sweatshirt off the rack. Opening the door, he walked down the hallway, down the stairs, and into the bathroom. He took a quick shower, then headed for the kitchen. Looking around, he realized his mom wasn’t up yet, so he put a piece of bread in the toaster and set it for two and a half minutes. He heard the beep, took it out, then grabbed a banana off the shelf. He took his keys off the counter and stepped out the door.
    The Wright’s house was simple: a blue...