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timtam.9

Australia

I hope you enjoyed whatever I published. I’m not the best writer but I hope whatever I do write appeals to you in some way. And I look forward to the day that I’ll see one of your peices of work. I look forward to when another writer enters the world

Message from Writer

I was born in New Zealand. Moved to Australia when I was 3. I’ve got a Brady bunch family, 3 girls, 3 boys, and I’m the oldest sister. I use commas when I shouldn’t.
My passions include, Greek mythology, writing (obviously), reading, N E T F L I X, food (fun fact: my parents are vegan. I’ve been trying to become vegan but I’m a little weakling. I eat whatever someone hands me) and family. I love my family.
I like books that are about independent women fighting on physical or mental battlefields, I like shows that are dramatic, heartfelt or anime and I like school (believe it or not). I hope you had a good day. Or at least a day with a book in it. Books make things better ( ;

Published Work

Tiny Love Story

’Till Death

This was the same pen I wrote my vows with. I’m in a black dress this time.

This sadness is nothing new. But with you by my side, I was surprised everyday, for surely the world couldn’t contain this much joy. Now cancer has claimed you. Greedy b*tch...

You etched your way into my heart and became me. No. I’ve learnt I am my own person. So are you. Together, we were more than a person. We were a bond that was strained and tested, but never broken. It never will be. That’s what I thought anyway. Rest in peace.

#serendipitouscomp- Peppermint eyes

My heart yearns as I stand, a sad little puppy, outside our park. How? How did this happen? I did everything right- be a gentleman, take her on fun dates, support her, get her gifts, love her. Why didn’t she love me back?
“Did you want a lift home?” She smiles at me, her bright red hair blinding in this light. My eyes burn. “John?”
I forget how to speak.
I forget how to breathe.
I forget how to not be in love.
“Um... I’m fine... thanks.” I will not cry. I will not cry. Those peppermint eyes will not see me so vulnerable. They’ve seen enough.
“I’m going to head off now,” Her smile disappears as she lays her hand on my shoulder. “I hope you can understand. It was never my intention to hurt you.”
For the last time in my life, I watch her walk away from me. She gets in her silver Sudan, grips onto the...

#mystoryq&a

Shhh.... I’m only a couple weeks late ^_^

Do you still live where you were born? 
No. I was born in New Zealand and moved to Australia when I was about three. 

How many languages do you speak/study? 
I speak English. I learnt a bit of German in primary/elementary school and recently started learning Japanese. I will probably learn Maori when I’m older.

Do you consider yourself a good student? 
Probably, yes. I’m alright. I’ve gotten a student of the year award every year since year one, got best all rounder for my grade, I’m in the XL (nerd) class and get good grades. I’ve been nominated to attend a few comps and workshops over the years and got the Michael Crandon MP dedicated commitment award.

Do you sport?
Yeah. I’ve been playing touch football for a few years and I do good in cross country at school.

Are you religious? 
Am I? I don’t think so. It’s weird. I’m...

Open Prompt

Pencil code



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Alligator

Adam looked up at the dark ominous sky, the stars sparkling in his hazel eyes. How beautiful and empty the night seemed, it made him feel still, despite the bitter winter winds shoving him. Adam raised his hand, reaching out for the moon and signing as he fell short once again. The distance made him feel helpless. Just like Sam.
A sharp pain embedded itself in Adams broad chest. It bring him and his ambitions back to earth. The landing was unpleasant and Jarring. He turned around and walked back to his car, being guided by the headlights and feeling guilty to leave the moon alone in it’s eternal spot in the sky. He picked up the steel urn from the back leather seat and spun on his foot, making the gravel fly in all directions. Back at his spot at the cliff side, Adam brushed a piece of golden hair from his face and with it, a tear.
“I...

Mixtape

Mixtape WILD

With Infinite Love and Dreams.

Music, rhythm, beat. They have etched themselves into every small movement, into every loud thought. In no particular order, in no one genre, in no definite time period, here are twelve songs that would make up my perfect mixtape. At the moment.

  1. Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra. A song full of gratefulness and optimism. Easy to belt out in a good mood.
  2. Who Lives Who Dies Who Tells Your Story by the original Hamilton Broadway cast. Depressing? Yes. Makes you question life? Yes. But it’s beautiful.
  3. Dear Theadosia by the original Hamilton Broadway cast. A calm, soothing song about a parent’s admiration. A refreshing new kind of love.
  4. Hooked On A Feeling by Blue Swede. Good to dance and sing along to.
  5. Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. It’s so diverse, iconic and ahead of their time, it’s hard not to admire it.
  6. I Want You Back by The Jackson 5. So catchy. And MJ...

Open Prompt

Pencil code

Music. Why do we listen to it? Why does it help to calm us? Why do rely on it to make us feel better? Maybe it’s because the sound, loud in our ears, seems to drown out the noise of our thoughts, our worries, our realities. Maybe it’s because the soothing beat, lyrics and emotion of the sounds make us feel like we are not the only ones feeling these feelings. Maybe it’s because the happiness and energy of the song makes us feel happy and energised as well, even in our darkest moments. The feeling of the song, the rhythm, it brings to our lives the order in chaos, it makes us realise the light buried in darkness, it takes us out of reality for just a moment. We listen to music to forget the stress, the sadness, the loneliness, the madness and the doubt that plagues us. We are transformed into a brand new world that is perfect...

House of Books

Thank You

Every second Thursday I forget. Every second Friday I have the joy of remembering. With the card I keep safely in my bag and the school bus that takes me to the shops down the road, I run down the side of the road, through the park, to the place where the mobile library awaits. All of a sudden, I diasapear.

Every Friday I go to “Macca’s Friday” with my friends. Every second Friday, as we walk to the basketball court to sit around and do whatever useless stuff we do, I run off. I know the doors are automatic, but it feels like magic, watching them open to embrace me. The cool air conditioning brings the smell of coziness and relief to my nose. The Australian heat, the idea of walking home in the sun, the shouts of friends, they’re far from mind. What will I find today?
Every second Friday, although I don’t know them, nor do they...

Novel Writing Competition 2018

For Michael

At first I didn’t believe it, it couldn’t be. But then the world started turning, horns started blaring, I heard the crack of my phone dropping onto the pavement. I finally found someone to love and live with for the rest of my life and now he’s gone. It hurts to think of Michael’s name.

I’m standing under the street lights, feeling the water pelt down on my skin and soak through my white blouse. It doesn’t matter that I’m crying, it doesn’t matter that everyone is going to see my bra through my drenched shirt, it doesn’t matter that my jeans are going to take forever to dry and my new heels are ruined. The easiest thing to do is let the water cleanse me and let the sound hypnotise me. I am air and yet I am lead.
I have been standing outside the subway for so long that a café owner walks across the road with her...

Why I Write

I am stuck in my head, my head that is stuck in the clouds, the clouds of the world’s that I weave.

Questions plague my mind. This is probably why. Why I decide to create these worlds. I am stuck in my head and my head is stuck in the clouds, the only thing that unglues me is this pencil. The pencil that weaves my thoughts, my questions, into a fake reality. The pencil you see, isn’t just a pencil. The pencil makes it so I am not me. This pencil makes a world that does not have rules nor boundaries. This pencil makes me not stuck in my head. And that is why I keep it, to recount the adventures my newest self has enjoyed, to weave once more with my pencil. If I didn’t, how would they ever get me out of the clouds, or how will anyone join me.

Words fill my heart. This is probably what. What inspired me to create these worlds. My nose is stuck in a book. The book becomes apart of me, my life,...