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#91 DayDreamer95

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Posted 13 May 2014 - 11:35 PM

WOAH!

 

I am so happy with this writing thing! Totally going to do this! I'm so stoked

 

This is great for everybody!

 

By the way, an amazing job to y'all writers! Doing some magical work! :D

Alex~


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#92 DayDreamer95

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Posted 13 May 2014 - 11:37 PM

HAPPY PAGE 3

 

So exciting! :D

 

*Begins to type away on her computer?*

 

Alex :m:


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#93 Jcrazy

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Posted 19 May 2014 - 09:37 PM

HEY. So, because Artemis and I are awesome, we've compiled a list of new writing prompts that are all PICTURES! YAY. Admittedly, some of the pictures are words, but still! Pictures! Interpret them however you please. Write, write, write...! :)

02E891E1-F04C-4F17-819D-F1F6A3790412.jpg

17565792-386F-4CAB-95A9-4D876E96E9F0.jpg

BBEE5E18-119E-4FD5-82D9-EB158B8F45EA.jpg


433A478C-A83C-4C4F-94EE-DB2A332E1937.gif

5EFB4A47-7DA8-4B54-AA5B-583452FF787A.jpg

B6CB816C-2D6C-4B19-AA57-39F6A2A19864.jpg

EF91B4C6-6FC0-46AB-8FFC-1F839D03345F.jpg

B5E34A63-4158-40CE-BE9C-6DA5047E448A.jpg

9A5D929C-E240-4F4D-B247-CF9CC54E6C3B.jpg

B5E34A63-4158-40CE-BE9C-6DA5047E448A.jpg

(It only let's me post ten pictures per post? Prompts continued in next post)
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#94 Jcrazy

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Posted 19 May 2014 - 09:38 PM

80256E53-9C36-4350-8300-A70E6782F8D0.jpg

00E940E8-3AFE-4B2A-BEA1-C36C74F41963.jpg

3EFA8925-3EBA-4476-9A5E-E34B6B2BD10F.jpg

AEEEA8B9-6C96-46D9-92D0-891A887B6C0A.jpg

84BEECC6-612C-4425-B6E5-CF6C2F499D11.jpg

82E46AB1-CFD7-4E08-9D2E-352CB4F44AC4.jpg

56635A35-3196-405E-A9D6-348B11D30CEA.jpg

171357DC-6495-4C67-B5E6-EF3CB1A71530.jpg

65938E9E-D509-4217-A409-B2EAE461120D.jpg
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#95 Jcrazy

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Posted 19 May 2014 - 09:39 PM

7D1E805D-2810-409A-9F5A-7B09AD8B08ED.jpg

9657C350-5DC5-4346-BA5B-0AC5555F467D.jpg

D1D3C714-B3B2-46E6-B2F9-D72BE2A3F050.jpg

16ADF2EA-DD80-40BD-BCCC-B955C03CA1C2.jpg

FA43B846-828A-4826-A33B-6BA3E5C04694.jpg

E39C60D2-6C87-40CD-8F66-931B5864AC0D.jpg

And that's all! Enjoy!

Edited by Jcrazy, 19 May 2014 - 09:40 PM.

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#96 Jcrazy

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Posted 20 May 2014 - 04:33 PM

Currently in a mood...

65938E9E-D509-4217-A409-B2EAE461120D.jpg

West, Kara, and Ben weren't the three best friends that anybody could have, but they were by far the best that I ever would.

West was loud. Everything he did, he did with a bang. When he ate, his chewing could be heard from across the room. When he sang along with the radio, there was no volume maximum that could compete with his voice. And when he loved you, he loved you so loud that everyone within a ten mile radius knew.

Kara liked being in charge and being in control. She drove everywhere, and if she wasn't driving, she was giving you The Most Efficient and Effective Directions Possible. She was smarter than anyone I knew—in a book sense, in a street sense, and in a common sense. Mostly though, she was smart when it came to people. She had you read and memorized before you even realized you had opened up.

Ben was crude. His jokes were dirty and his replies were always snarky. There wasn't a thing in this world that he didn't have an opinion on, whether it be a major political debate or which Beatles song was the best ("Yellow Submarine!" he'd say, to which we'd all reply, "No!"). My favorite part of any conversation was the moment he weighed in with his off the wall view or idea of thinking. I waited for that moment.

"We need to do this every year!" West shouted, hands raised high above his head as if trying to grab at the cloudless sky. "Dammit, you guys, I can't even tell you... This is perfect!"

I laughed. "The beach every summer? West, we've already been doing this since freshman year."

"Jesus, Hannah, I realize that. But now that we've graduated, the universe probably has big plans to divide us up. So, every summer. Everybody promise."

Kara and Ben exchanged a glance, matching blue eyes matching each other. Twins—they were twins, yet their eyes were the only thing I had ever been able to find in common.

"Every summer is a big promise to make," Kara said, calculating tone in place.

Ben snorted. "*#&$%% that. You want me to be here every summer, West? You got it. I'm down."

"What if I do summer school? What if I live in Spain? What if my future husband hates you all?" Kara asked.

"*#&$%% ALL THAT!" West said, apparently forgetting we were on a public beach in the middle of the day. "Once a summer, no matter what: we meet here. Even if our spouses hate each other and we live on Mars. To this beach we shall come."

"YES!" I shouted, because I knew it was the response West wanted. Ben winked at me, following up my yes with his own: "YEEEES!"

We all gave Kara a heavy look which she met with a determined expression.

"HELL YES!"

We met her uncharacteristically loud response with hoops and hollers of our own, being obnoxious. Being eighteen, and careless, and whoever we wanted to be.

***

Eighteen and careless didn't last long. Community college and work started for me. West was working at his dad's company, taking some online courses. Kara was four hours away, spending trillions on her education. Ben was at boot camp getting his ass kicked day in and day out.

Somewhere in the middle of my sophomore year of college, West and I ran into each other at a coffee house. It'd been three months since I'd spoken to him. The second I saw him, my stomach dropped.

"West," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. "What are we doing?"

"Damn. Hannah. I don't know." Big arms squeezed my waist too tight. West was the kind of guy you described with too—too loud, too crazy, too happy. "I miss you. All."

West and I intervened. We called and FaceTimed Ben and Kara incessantly. The four months remaining until summer were spent bugging the hell out of each other. My phone was constantly buzzing with group message alerts.

"I'm in *#&$%%ing love," Ben announced on July nineteenth that year, and his use of the F word was a testament to the fact that though he may be in love, that wasn't changing him.

"No s/hit," I breathed, looking up at stars I wouldn't ever learn the names of. None of us had ever really been in love as far as I knew. Not real love at least.

He nodded about twenty times, running his hand along the arm of his beach chair. "Her name's Paige. She's in my squad ." Ben was in the Army. "Really beautiful. Really funny. Really loves me for some odd reason."

"Damn smart girl," West proclaimed, tipping his beer bottle toward Ben.

"I want to meet her. Pronto," Kara said, eyes searching out Ben's. When he finally met her gaze, they shared a nod.

"You'd love her. You'd all love her," Ben assured us.

***

When Ben passed away on June seventh of the next year—a week before he was scheduled to come home, a month before we had planned a beach trip—my world shattered. It'd been another year of half assed contact with one another. The beach trip was thrown together in a flurry of guilt for not hanging out or staying in contact at all. Ben had his excuses—he was on the other side of the world. The rest of us just plain old sucked. We were dragged down by "real life" when we weren't together and the weight was too heavy to compete with.

Funerals are depressing and hardly the way to recount someone's life. Kara stood with a stream of constant, silent tears, the rest of her and West's family beside her. West and I stood in the background, the past few years of shitty contact providing us a brief glimpse of who we really were: we were old friends of Ben's. People who didn't have time to keep up with one another. The men decked out in uniform who spent day after day by his side were Ben's new friends. The girl wearing the long, black dress and clutching a beaten up Army cap was Ben's present. We were not the people receiving the apologies. We were the people giving them.

"You think he would have even wanted us to be here? Without him?" Kara asked through a fit of tears. She glanced at us from her beach chair. "Do you?"

I took a fortifying breath, the way I had been doing for the last month whenever I thought of Ben (which was always). It was shaky, like usual. "We did agree to meet here every summer. Every summer. He seemed pretty adamant that he'd always be here."

"Yeah," West said loudly. He was drunk. He'd been drunk a lot this month. "He probably is here. In spirit or some s/hit."

"Well, where's he sitting?" Kara asked.

I frowned and so did West. A minute later I lifted myself from the seat, heading back towards the chair rental. I handed the employee a five and they handed me the striped beach chair.

"Here," I said, standing in front of West and Kara. "Between you guys. That's where he usually sat."

We situated the chair and I plopped down the old CD Player in Ben's chair.

"I've got a Beatles CD," I said uncertainly, wondering if either of them could handle listening to lyrics that Ben frequently butchered. When they nodded, it shouldn't have surprised me. They were always tougher than me.

We all collectively groaned at the sound of Yellow Submarine.

"Sorry, Ben," I said, looking up like I knew for certain that Heaven was legitimate and Ben was up there chilling with some angels who were better friends than all of us. "But this song sucks ass."

West staring clicking buttons until a track that he knew and liked came on.

What would you think if I sang out of tune
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song.
And I'll try not to sing out of key.


"You know what's funny?" Kara eventually says. "Ben *#&$%%ing hates this song."

The way she said it present tense made the first smile in a month cross over my face.

"Hates it so much," I agreed.

"We gonna keep doing this?" West asked. "Coming to the beach? Look, I know we're not close. I know we all have lives now. I know one of us is deader than s/hit."

"Ben said he'd be here every year. We can't leave him hanging if he still is," Kara said, wiping her face on the sleeve of her shirt.

"Well, then...YES!" I said. They both looked at me funny. "Hell YES!"

Memories of our first agreement to meet here every year came flashing across both of their faces.

"YES!" they shouted, small smiles coming across either of their faces.

Friendship is timeless if it's really real. And if it's really, really real, then sometimes you don't even both need to be on earth for it to still exist.

I get by with a little help from my friends.
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#97 24moon100

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Posted 21 May 2014 - 10:42 PM

 

A LIST OF THINGS THAT ANNOY ME

-“your mom” jokes

 

-pencils without erasers

 

-country music

 

-the irritating fad where teenage girls need to discuss and sing and cry about Disney movies because “they were my CHILDHOOD”

 

-people who walk slowly in the school hallways

 

-small talk (bonus points if it’s about the weather)

 

-the phrase “feels” (ex: “oh my god all the feels!!”)

 

-people who try to shove political/spiritual views on others

 

-the leggings, Uggs, scarves, sweaters, messy bun trend (fun fact: it’s not cute)

 

-people with no common sense (also: people who don’t understand sarcasm, satire, irony, etc.)

 

-teenage girls complaining about being “born in the wrong generation” (It doesn’t mean anything if you like 90s music, because, hey, guess what? Everyone likes 90s music.)

 

-the appalling amount of chevron I have to see every day at school

 

-PEOPLE WITH NO SOCIAL SKILLS

 

-that thing where there’s an absolutely amazing album—except for ONE SONG that ruins the whole thing

 

-people who frown on others for doing well in school (??? I’ve never understand these people’s logic)

 

-WHEN A TEACHER PUTS SOMETHING ON A TEST/QUIZ THAT WAS NEVER PART OF THE HOMEWORK/WHAT WAS DISCUSSED IN CLASS

 

-know-it-alls

 

-when people state their defining quality as their “great taste in music” (please stop)

 

-stereotypes (did you even watch The Breakfast Club??)

 

-when the writers of a TV show are godawful and butcher a show that had potential (LOOKIN AT YOU, SUPERNATURAL SEASONS 6-9; I stopped watching because I’ve hated this season with passion more incredible than the lack of writing skills the writers of SPN possess)

 

-white kids who pretend they're black (it sounds racist but IT’S A THING; we all know that one kid)

 

-people who do not appreciate the beauty of movie scores

 

-people who blaspheme against the holy and sacred Breaking Bad

 

-GLUTEN INTOLERANCE (lactose intolerance, too)

 

-sexist people (NOT JUST MEN—women too, and you’re stupid if you think only men are sexist)

 

-really hot weather

 

-really cold weather

 

-people who describe themselves as “quirky” (no you’re not)

 

-when people get the urge to quote Mean Girls 24/7

 

-optimists (are you people even real?)

 

-the word “wick”

 

-pretentious teenage writers who believe themselves to be God incarnate (which is the reason why my online writing activities take place ONLY ON THIS SITE; no one here makes me want to stab myself in the eyes)

 

-the color yellow (unless it’s in a Van Gogh painting, in which it will probably make me cry)

 

-Great Expectations

 

 

 

Oh my god this is hilarious.  :lol: Especially about the whole album being perfect except for the one song. I HATE that. It drives me crazy. Oh and the Supernatural thing—although personally I think it got bad 7-9. I actually thought season 6 (early season 6 anyway) was good. Also about the teachers putting stuff on tests/quizzes that was not ever covered? Yeah THAT IS SO FRUSTRATING.

 

By the way I think more people really should appreciate movie scores. In my opinion they are essentially what make or break movies. 

 

Haha. I need to make one of these.


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#98 24moon100

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Posted 21 May 2014 - 11:03 PM

Currently in a mood...

65938E9E-D509-4217-A409-B2EAE461120D.jpg

West, Kara, and Ben weren't the three best friends that anybody could have, but they were by far the best that I ever would.

West was loud. Everything he did, he did with a bang. When he ate, his chewing could be heard from across the room. When he sang along with the radio, there was no volume maximum that could compete with his voice. And when he loved you, he loved you so loud that everyone within a ten mile radius knew.

Kara liked being in charge and being in control. She drove everywhere, and if she wasn't driving, she was giving you The Most Efficient and Effective Directions Possible. She was smarter than anyone I knew—in a book sense, in a street sense, and in a common sense. Mostly though, she was smart when it came to people. She had you read and memorized before you even realized you had opened up.

Ben was crude. His jokes were dirty and his replies were always snarky. There wasn't a thing in this world that he didn't have an opinion on, whether it be a major political debate or which Beatles song was the best ("Yellow Submarine!" he'd say, to which we'd all reply, "No!"). My favorite part of any conversation was the moment he weighed in with his off the wall view or idea of thinking. I waited for that moment.

"We need to do this every year!" West shouted, hands raised high above his head as if trying to grab at the cloudless sky. "Dammit, you guys, I can't even tell you... This is perfect!"

I laughed. "The beach every summer? West, we've already been doing this since freshman year."

"Jesus, Hannah, I realize that. But now that we've graduated, the universe probably has big plans to divide us up. So, every summer. Everybody promise."

Kara and Ben exchanged a glance, matching blue eyes matching each other. Twins—they were twins, yet their eyes were the only thing I had ever been able to find in common.

"Every summer is a big promise to make," Kara said, calculating tone in place.

Ben snorted. "*#&$%% that. You want me to be here every summer, West? You got it. I'm down."

"What if I do summer school? What if I live in Spain? What if my future husband hates you all?" Kara asked.

"*#&$%% ALL THAT!" West said, apparently forgetting we were on a public beach in the middle of the day. "Once a summer, no matter what: we meet here. Even if our spouses hate each other and we live on Mars. To this beach we shall come."

"YES!" I shouted, because I knew it was the response West wanted. Ben winked at me, following up my yes with his own: "YEEEES!"

We all gave Kara a heavy look which she met with a determined expression.

"HELL YES!"

We met her uncharacteristically loud response with hoops and hollers of our own, being obnoxious. Being eighteen, and careless, and whoever we wanted to be.

***

Eighteen and careless didn't last long. Community college and work started for me. West was working at his dad's company, taking some online courses. Kara was four hours away, spending trillions on her education. Ben was at boot camp getting his ass kicked day in and day out.

Somewhere in the middle of my sophomore year of college, West and I ran into each other at a coffee house. It'd been three months since I'd spoken to him. The second I saw him, my stomach dropped.

"West," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. "What are we doing?"

"Damn. Hannah. I don't know." Big arms squeezed my waist too tight. West was the kind of guy you described with too—too loud, too crazy, too happy. "I miss you. All."

West and I intervened. We called and FaceTimed Ben and Kara incessantly. The four months remaining until summer were spent bugging the hell out of each other. My phone was constantly buzzing with group message alerts.

"I'm in *#&$%%ing love," Ben announced on July nineteenth that year, and his use of the F word was a testament to the fact that though he may be in love, that wasn't changing him.

"No s/hit," I breathed, looking up at stars I wouldn't ever learn the names of. None of us had ever really been in love as far as I knew. Not real love at least.

He nodded about twenty times, running his hand along the arm of his beach chair. "Her name's Paige. She's in my squad ." Ben was in the Army. "Really beautiful. Really funny. Really loves me for some odd reason."

"Damn smart girl," West proclaimed, tipping his beer bottle toward Ben.

"I want to meet her. Pronto," Kara said, eyes searching out Ben's. When he finally met her gaze, they shared a nod.

"You'd love her. You'd all love her," Ben assured us.

***

When Ben passed away on June seventh of the next year—a week before he was scheduled to come home, a month before we had planned a beach trip—my world shattered. It'd been another year of half assed contact with one another. The beach trip was thrown together in a flurry of guilt for not hanging out or staying in contact at all. Ben had his excuses—he was on the other side of the world. The rest of us just plain old sucked. We were dragged down by "real life" when we weren't together and the weight was too heavy to compete with.

Funerals are depressing and hardly the way to recount someone's life. Kara stood with a stream of constant, silent tears, the rest of her and West's family beside her. West and I stood in the background, the past few years of shitty contact providing us a brief glimpse of who we really were: we were old friends of Ben's. People who didn't have time to keep up with one another. The men decked out in uniform who spent day after day by his side were Ben's new friends. The girl wearing the long, black dress and clutching a beaten up Army cap was Ben's present. We were not the people receiving the apologies. We were the people giving them.

"You think he would have even wanted us to be here? Without him?" Kara asked through a fit of tears. She glanced at us from her beach chair. "Do you?"

I took a fortifying breath, the way I had been doing for the last month whenever I thought of Ben (which was always). It was shaky, like usual. "We did agree to meet here every summer. Every summer. He seemed pretty adamant that he'd always be here."

"Yeah," West said loudly. He was drunk. He'd been drunk a lot this month. "He probably is here. In spirit or some s/hit."

"Well, where's he sitting?" Kara asked.

I frowned and so did West. A minute later I lifted myself from the seat, heading back towards the chair rental. I handed the employee a five and they handed me the striped beach chair.

"Here," I said, standing in front of West and Kara. "Between you guys. That's where he usually sat."

We situated the chair and I plopped down the old CD Player in Ben's chair.

"I've got a Beatles CD," I said uncertainly, wondering if either of them could handle listening to lyrics that Ben frequently butchered. When they nodded, it shouldn't have surprised me. They were always tougher than me.

We all collectively groaned at the sound of Yellow Submarine.

"Sorry, Ben," I said, looking up like I knew for certain that Heaven was legitimate and Ben was up there chilling with some angels who were better friends than all of us. "But this song sucks ass."

West staring clicking buttons until a track that he knew and liked came on.

What would you think if I sang out of tune
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song.
And I'll try not to sing out of key.


"You know what's funny?" Kara eventually says. "Ben *#&$%%ing hates this song."

The way she said it present tense made the first smile in a month cross over my face.

"Hates it so much," I agreed.

"We gonna keep doing this?" West asked. "Coming to the beach? Look, I know we're not close. I know we all have lives now. I know one of us is deader than s/hit."

"Ben said he'd be here every year. We can't leave him hanging if he still is," Kara said, wiping her face on the sleeve of her shirt.

"Well, then...YES!" I said. They both looked at me funny. "Hell YES!"

Memories of our first agreement to meet here every year came flashing across both of their faces.

"YES!" they shouted, small smiles coming across either of their faces.

Friendship is timeless if it's really real. And if it's really, really real, then sometimes you don't even both need to be on earth for it to still exist.

I get by with a little help from my friends.

 

Wow. This is such a great story, Jamie! Sad, but it's got lot of substance, and I think that's a fine quality for a story to have. Totally a Jamie story. Very distinctly you. You know I hope you realize you have a style because the more and more I read your stuff the more and more I see it develop. 

 

Someday I hope I have a style of my own, like you. You write stuff that's real—really, really real. I don't know how else to describe it, but hopefully you understand what I'm getting at here. 

 

By the way that ending line was great. Way to be creative. :)


Edited by 24moon100, 21 May 2014 - 11:04 PM.

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#99 Jcrazy

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Posted 22 May 2014 - 01:38 PM

Wow. This is such a great story, Jamie! Sad, but it's got lot of substance, and I think that's a fine quality for a story to have. Totally a Jamie story. Very distinctly you. You know I hope you realize you have a style because the more and more I read your stuff the more and more I see it develop. 
 
Someday I hope I have a style of my own, like you. You write stuff that's real—really, really real. I don't know how else to describe it, but hopefully you understand what I'm getting at here. 
 
By the way that ending line was great. Way to be creative. :)

Aw thank you. For the "substance" comment. Whenever I read short stories, I think it's really cool when I can create a connection to the story even though there aren't many words. That's what I like to try and do whenever I write these prompts. You already have a style of your own! Everybody does; it's just a given! :) You should write one of these soon :D Thanks again.
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#100 Jcrazy

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Posted 07 March 2015 - 04:41 AM

10 word story that I expanded on...


"Because on paper, everyone can be everything that I wanted."

I get nervous when I start to write about myself. I know that I have the power to write myself into a meltdown. I could write about him, or about her, or about them. I could write about that time, or one time, or this time.

I could write down the bitter truth and leave it. It's easier that way. That's the way it happened, the way it is, the way it always will be. But I can never just leave it.

Because I wrote it. I can change it. I can edit. I can revise. I can make him say the words I wanted him to say, or I can make her tell me the truth, or I can make them not hate me.

And then it's all on paper. Staring me in the face. The exact words I wanted to hear or say. So I'm left with regret. With longing. With hate. Because on paper, everyone can be everything that I wanted. Because on paper, you would have stayed. You would have all stayed.


***
Promise I'm not depressed. But whenever I try to write about my own (sad) personal experiences in a fictional sort of way, I always end up writing myself into a happy ending, even if that's soo not what actually happened. sigh.
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#101 24moon100

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Posted 07 March 2015 - 04:14 PM

10 word story that I expanded on...


"Because on paper, everyone can be everything that I wanted."

I get nervous when I start to write about myself. I know that I have the power to write myself into a meltdown. I could write about him, or about her, or about them. I could write about that time, or one time, or this time.

I could write down the bitter truth and leave it. It's easier that way. That's the way it happened, the way it is, the way it always will be. But I can never just leave it.

Because I wrote it. I can change it. I can edit. I can revise. I can make him say the words I wanted him to say, or I can make her tell me the truth, or I can make them not hate me.

And then it's all on paper. Staring me in the face. The exact words I wanted to hear or say. So I'm left with regret. With longing. With hate. Because on paper, everyone can be everything that I wanted. Because on paper, you would have stayed. You would have all stayed.


***
Promise I'm not depressed. But whenever I try to write about my own (sad) personal experiences in a fictional sort of way, I always end up writing myself into a happy ending, even if that's soo not what actually happened. sigh.

 

K cool Jamie. You just made me contemplate so many deep meaningful things just now. 

 

Brilliant, by the way. Simple. Real. Brilliance.

 

Thanks for sharing. :)


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