| Kakikotoba means "the written word" in Japanese.|
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The first days of MarchShadows are cast upon water damaged walls.The first days of March by megalotty1998
The sun has risen and the morning birds are making their calls.
I look from my window and what do I see.
An impossible blue sky against the silhouette of a proud maple tree.
The snow has melted.
The green has returned.
The frost has finally faded.
A young plant wilted, a lesson learned.
The squirrels chatter.
The grass will grow.
The warm months are here.
An on-going cycle older than we will ever know.
Flood of Hope~ Nothing quite comparesFlood of Hope by SereneCyrene
to the beauty of the rain
that crowns me in hope
and carries me away
into another world
where I feel so free
from this broken land
and haunted jubilees.
In the dreary night,
I can hear them sing
of the trifling rain
that this nature brings
and it makes me mad
knowing that they rebuke
this lovely thing called rain
that serves as my refuge.
Under it's healing touch,
my soul is at eternal ease.
Scars of shame disappear
like black holes in the galaxy.
Since my darkness fell
to the power of the rain,
everything is brighter within
and I've never been the same. ~
The road to your final destinationThey see you as an amateur.The road to your final destination by megalotty1998
A new born deer desperately trying to stand on wobbly legs.
A faker who hides behind a poorly concealed disguise.
A worthless, wannabe, nothing who has no chance of ever being of their caliber.
You want so badly to be amongst their ranks.
To truly be content with your own ability.
But deep down in that murky pit of angst you know you will never truly be happy.
The cup you seek to fill will forever be half empty.
The more evolved you become the more your expectations raise.
Then you think to yourself, why bother?
What is the point?
No matter how far you sail misery will always be your shadow.
Success is little more than a mirage on the horizon.
Is giving up really an option though?
This thing has consumed your life so much that quitting it would be the equivalent of discontinuing to breath.
It's roots have anchored themselves so deeply in your being that to rip them out would result in immediate self destruction.
Whether you like it or not this thing i
What If “If you couldn’t see to sew, what would you do?”What If by starell
“Well, if I couldn’t see, I guess I’d take up pottery.”
“And if you couldn’t use your hands?”
“I would play piano with my toes.”
“But what if you couldn’t hear, what then?”
“If I couldn’t hear, or see, or use my hands then I would build a thousand sand castles with my feet.”
“What if you couldn’t use your feet?”
“Then I would roll my body in paint and fly across an empty canvas.”
“How would you know the colors?”
“I wouldn’t. I would know the textures.”
“But what if you couldn't use any of that? What if you were trapped inside
Gypsy SpellMeGypsy Spell by strawburdeath
I'm not real
Who escapes my sight without my will?
You , are a stranger
Lost in your shadow
What will you do?
you fly away
A fly on a wall
You can't escape
What I bring
Ill bring into your mind
Boy you think your'e gunna win this fight
Don't make a fool outa me
Ill break you myself
Lota’ guts for a mere human
Now lets see you break through my spell
You’re a fool
Fallen in love
Love that can’t be broken as far as I can tell
Just a stranger
Fell under my spell
I fall for yours
I'm not real
Yet you've caught me with my own gypsy spell
The assassin's apprentice (excerpt part 3)Unfortunately those small moments of happiness never last and before I knew it our train had reached the station. Lizza picked up her things and stepped out of the train compartment.The assassin's apprentice (excerpt part 3) by megalotty1998
“It was nice meeting you, Izzy” she said in a sing song voice.
“How about I walk you down to the platform” I suggested “You have no idea what kind of people hang around down here”
She agreed and we made our way down there. Standing on the platform was an elderly woman with silvery hair and olive skin who I presume was Lizza’s grandma. Lizza ran right up to her and gave her a big hug.
Lizza turned around “This is Izzy, I met her on the train”
I smiled “Nice to meet you.”
The women smiled back and waved which surprised me. Almost everyone I met made some sort of comment about my appearance. Maybe this lady had bad eye sight or maybe at the place she was form people with bandaged up faces and eye patches were not so uncommon.
As I watched Lizza
Treasure HuntersLeave land beforeTreasure Hunters by starell
The sun has thought
To make it's way 'round
Their motor whirring lowly
Chopping though dark waters
Until almost too far from the coastline
It's still black,
But threatening dark blue
Deeper than they should
Where it's still dark as pitch
Breathe air in the water
As it bites them with the cold
Currents carrying them
Farther and farther out
Until the water becomes turquoise
Graveyard Grand JeteThe rotted stairs groaned as I slunk through the house. Clouds of dust swirled in the night air. My eyes could barely make out shapes from the drab interior, but I did not stumble. Slowly I picked my way through the house to the hidden staircase, Carrie trailing behind me.Graveyard Grand Jete by starell
The latch rasped as the tumblers freed the catch and the door jolted open. Squeaking slightly, the trapdoor opened and Carrie and I slipped out onto the roof. Moonlight striped us silver and illuminated the grime of centuries on top of the old house. And then I danced.
Forgetting the impending doom tomorrow would bring and how Madame would yell at the grit caked in my slippers. My arms floated high above my head as I flirted with the edge. Spinning closer and closer to the very edge of the roof I would leap and twirl with the night. Carrie whimpered, cowering against the chimney eyes widened with fright, pleading with me to come back.
It was getting late. I slipped off my shoes grabbing her hand I guided us out of th
DearestDearest,Dearest by starell
Would that you were closer,
So I could read aloud
The words I’ve only written,
The thoughts I haven’t dared.
Speak my desires
Onto your lips and into your mouth
So they might wrap around your tongue
And maybe travel to your heart.
Would that you were closer,
So I could catch the notes
You shout from high cliffs
That travel over oceans
Until they get to me,
Where I wait on the sand,
And only grasp faint whispers
Carried by the waves.
Would that you were closer,
So we could count the freckles
That dot across our noses.
Which we got from waiting
Every night in the moonlight
So we wouldn’t miss the love letters
Hung by the other
On the evening breeze.
Would that you were closer.
The hereticYou may call me an extremist.The heretic by megalotty1998
A heretic .
You may call me insane.
For I know more that your tiny mind ever could.
And I am unhappy with the way things are and am determined to make them what they should.
I was born with my eyes wide open.
Were as yours were sewed tightly shut.
Your ignorance will go away some day I'm hoping.
If not then where should I make the first cut?
People like yourself are blind and stupid.
Feeble minded and weak willed.
You make excuses for your actions.
When those actions lead to many innocent being killed.
You refuse to face the truth.
Afraid it might mean your entire life has been a lie.
You are frightened of change.
You don't even bother to try.
But I assure you it will ketch up with you some day.
And when it does I will be the one there watching you pray
Remember, don't ever kill our darlingsIf I were to write to youRemember, don't ever kill our darlings by brokengod--veins
in a series of mistakes
and past contemplations,
my letter would go as far
as your spirits would lead you.
And if the truth
on whether or not
Love conquers all borders
and builds the foundations
for our bony, crannied bridges
changes the way we see ourselves
consider yourself lucky.
Fortunate of the long growing madness
that was never yours to bare
Neither torn or crumpled
by the inner peace
void in the barren yet thirsty deserts
we call our hearts.
life hangs on the edge
of your own mouth
but the decision to fall
Trust me, I know-
it's how fear works.
do more than peer through a cave,
look where you would think
the way none of us ever could
in the darkness.
Leave me behind, darling.
I am too weary and you are far too young.
The world is too fast and you are too wonderful.
midnight aches and inside strangersevery nightmidnight aches and inside strangers by brokengod--veins
I wake up to strangers
(No, it's not what you think.
These aren't one-
or tequila lungs
They're the oaths
kept in the
depths of my
of the fears
the dearest dreams
slithering my spine]
these are the cups
in my sorrows
in the riverbed
of a throat
from the vine garden
they found a way
They are the ones
in my blood
shuddering my bones
There's no fright.
folded like a contortionist
in my chest
while the moon
my sky's pendant,
and just listens.
Lunar Imprints and the Moon's Tears"the sky's too smallLunar Imprints and the Moon's Tears by brokengod--veins
and my hands are too big
to go into the depths
of the night
without the regret
of leaving." said he.
the stars inside the
and the moon's sorrow
fills him with
every reason to
miss the sun's
his arms embracing
her lucid body,
the outline of her shape
traced by a kiss
r e a c h e d
the sky will soon
fill with the seas
of the moon's tears--
we will all yearn for
that kind of love,
skies too small
and hands too big
to go into the depths
of the night
to grow unrequited.
Pretty eyed, pirate smileShawna yawned, easily baring her fangs. Today was Halloween, and she was planning on wearing her costume to school. She hated school normally, but this next week would be rather interesting, considering their plans. She shifted, stretching her wings against Brian. Normally she would try to jump in the shower before he woke up, but today was going to be different. She had just finished a book series that had recently come out about a vampire and his love affair with a human. It was called Twilight. She shuddered. If there was one thing she knew it was that vampires did not naturally sparkle. She reasoned she should know, she was one. That fact was betrayed by her wings, fangs, and dependance on blood. She yawned again, tossing her shoulder length purple streaked black hair out of her eyes. Brian still was burrowed under the covers and pillow. Shawn inched her cold toes back under the covers, and against her boyfriend’s warm, sensitive wing. Brian’s yelp and cracking voice brPretty eyed, pirate smile by Wynter-Heart
he cried because no one cried for himI found Death crying in the alleyway underneath my apartment window. He crouched, shaking and whimpering out his little mouse of a cry that was muffled by the rumbling cacophony of city night life. He didn't make himself seen and, like the child he was, huddled down and hid his face with his mitten-covered hands.he cried because no one cried for him by CelestialMemories
Death made eye contact with me as I watched him from the fire escape. He stared with bright blue eyes perfectly framed with long eye lashes. The chill bit and reddened his nose and cheeks, and his tears left frozen paths of black ice against his face. I didn't mean to, it was an accident, he pleaded with me.
I watched him as he shamefully picked up his victim, a tiny little kitten that was half frozen and curled tightly into itself. He tried to stroke it back to life, begging and pressing the small animal into his plush winter coat.
I'm sorry, he lisped, wiping snot onto his sleeve as he cradled the corpse like a beloved baby doll. My eyes followed his tiny
April NANO 2013 - CH3Thomas was sitting in his room, which took most of the upper floor of the house, staring in the direction of Jo's house. He had finished all of his homework at school and was not in the mood to start on the paper that was due at the end of the month. He had finished all the research last night and had no desire to continue to write about things that he deemed pointless. Part of him was tempted to go and start researching how emotions worked, but he was fairly certain that would not help with his current issues. On his drive home he had started thinking about how he had wanted Jo's approval and attention. He had wanted her to like him. That had not ever happened before. He did not really care what most people thought of him with the exception of his father, Dylan, and Skye. His dad, because, well the reasons should be obvious. He benefited from his dad's approval. Dylan, well, Dylan was his Alpha. The only Wolf that Thomas would ever let control him. Grampa Skye, so far, had been the onApril NANO 2013 - CH3 by Wynter-Heart
April NANO 2013- CH 2At the end of their chat, Jo ran over what she had learned about Thomas. His father, apparently, was some kind of investment genius, so their family had recently come into a lot of money. That showed, she thought, by the car he had and the fact that they had a live-in house cleaner. She had also learned that Thomas was very interested in martial arts, and had just recently gotten back from a stay in Japan where he had been working with one of the masters there. Apparently that apprenticship was only given rarely to those who had earned the notice of that particular dojo. That explained how he walked. She remembered people in movies walking the same way. The most shocking thing she learned, though, was that Thomas's family lived on the east coast, in New York. And Thomas was going to school here, without any supervision, aside from the housekeeper. She mulled these things over as they walked back home. Jo thought it very strange for a kid her age to be allowed to be on his own.April NANO 2013- CH 2 by Wynter-Heart
Nano april 2013The boy got out of the nicely shined Dodge Charger, flicking his emo-ish hair into his face. Another day in hell. He grabbed his backpack out of the back seat of the car, slamming the door on the adult's words that tried to reach him from inside the car. He shouldered the bag, carefully avoiding his wings. Unlike other Vampires, his were feathered, and too big to hide under clothing. He skipped steps as he climbed up to the office. He walked in through the door and smelled stress. He knew that his appearance caused fear in many of those around him, and was use to it. But this was different. Someone else had caused the problem, and a girl his age sat on the bench where the damned sat to wait their turn to be chewed out by the principle who thought that he was God. Her face was red with tears and her makeup was ruined. The boy sighed. This just make his first day all that much worse. To top the inconvenience, he was starting to be unable to contain his emotions. There was a reallyNano april 2013 by Wynter-Heart
Bite Me! Part 2Bite Me! Part 2 by geekgirl8
Now clad in her baggy pajama pants and long-sleeved sleep-shirt, Claire sat Indian-style on the bed by the orange-yellow light of the candles in the sconces, waiting for Russell to return from his room. She peered outside the slightly window for a moment. Totally dark. Not a soul stirred outside; everyone had long gone to their homes for the night. She reached under her pillow and gave the oak stake and vials of holy water hiding there a confident squeeze, smirking into the darkness.
The door to her room opened and Russell ambled in, wearing his blue flannel pajamas. He gave a massive yawn and looked all the world like he wished he could be asleep in his bed.
Claire turned to him excitedly, taking out her ponytail and shaking her long wavy hair. "You got your stuff ready?"
"Huh? Oh...yeah." Russell indifferently held up the oak stake in one hand, the vials of holy water in the other.
Diviners of Runawynd Act IDiviners of Runawynd Act I by Runawynd
"But that's just immoral!" Denying all professionalism, Garrick harshly snapped at the supreme god, Keiran, who calmly sat in his cozy, luxurious office seat. "I can't believe you want me to carry out a mission like that!"
With the mildest of expressions, Keiran merely blinked up at the enraged one and countered, unexpectedly cold, "Since when do morals matter here? At this place where we observe and judge humanity? We focus on facts, not feelings. You know that." He added, patronizing.
"Tch, I don't need you reminding me. And I know what I need to do, but there's no way I'm-" Garrick welcomed the coming verbal battle; thus, when his superior rose from his seat, he could feel his own temper rising as well.
Keiran then approached him face-to-face, smirking all the while he spoke. "Look, I love the way you think " A graceful hand took to Garrick's pounding neck, reached to his face, where it departed with a tender caress. "But talking back to your superior isn't a good idea when the
The Xavier: Chapter 3At the moment of En'fili's peak, the room blazed with the sound of alarm bells. As a shocked En'fili leapt off the bed, her skin shone a deep penetrating, unhealthy yellow; a yellow glow of terror at the bewildering sound. Nikoli just lay stiff, still in shock at the noise and the startlement of En'fili. Their world of intimate unadulterated bliss came to fall as reality massacred it midway. A booming voice came over the speaker system-The Xavier: Chapter 3 by ShadowsOfAVorlon
"Report to alert stations. This is NOT a drill!"
The message in Commander Neroon's parade voice continued thrice more, then harshly stopped. With no time at all to spare Cromwell and Feliss hurriedly dressed themselves and ran towards the bridge Sola-lift, sorting each other's uniform on the way. As the two corrected their hair and made final adjustments to each other's kit, they began to think the worst- a declaration of war by the Vorath.
"But w-what if..."
Nikoli interrupted- "What if... nothing! We're on an Obsidion Class Luna Destroyer. We're on th
The Fallen Star: Chapter 8EIGHTThe Fallen Star: Chapter 8 by TheFS
Whatever Lakor tried to do, he couldn't sleep. It wasn't just the gentle creaking of the house that kept him awake, but the constant questions that rattled around in his head. He shuffled around onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Slowly, he pushed his hands under his head and closed his eyes again.
Sleep had just taken hold over him, when a sudden thump echoed through his room. He reopened his eyes, hearing footsteps outside his door. He lifted up his head and tried to hear who it was.
Against Kantou's wishes, both Hamsol and Saru insisted that they should rest until morning. And yet, someone was awake. Lakor continued to listen, and heard the unmistakeable creaking of the stairs, as someone tiptoed downwards into the living room. There was click as the front door was opened, and another as it softly swung back to.
He pushed himself from his bed, shuffled over to the window and drew back the curtain. In the light of the moon, he could see a man strolling into the
The Apology: Full ScriptThe ApologyThe Apology: Full Script by ZachValkyrie
Page 1: Six panels arranged in three rows of equal height. The top row is composed of one full-width panel. The middle row contains two panels of equal width. The bottom row contains three panels of equal width.
Top Panel: A long wide view of a large tan-grey concrete building in a vast field. The building is surrounded by a tall razorwire fence. Several guard towers are visible along the fence. The midday sky above the building is blue and cloudless. Behind the building, the fields stretch for miles without a single structure to be seen until the rolling hills swallow the landscape.
Middle Left Panel: Upward view of an unmarked black military helicopter with the midday sun peeking out from behind the rotor column.
Middle Right Panel: A view of the roof of the concrete building. The roof is made of the same tan-grey concrete as the building. On the right side of the panel, there stands a doorway leading to a stairwe
StagelightsStagelights by MirkwoodElf
INT. STAGE - NIGHT
CHRISTINE and LUCY work on the lighting panel on the stage floor. They are alone. There are only a few lights on above the stage - the audience space is dark.
A phone rings from an office backstage. Lucy and Christine look up, to the right; Lucy rolls her eyes and sighs.
Ill get it. Try switching the cables again. . .
She stands and walks off, through the right wing, leaving Christine alone. Christine kneels down and fiddles with the cables.
A noise, like the WHOOSH of a cape, sounds from somewhere out in the dark of the audience space. Christine looks up, staring out into the dark. She quickly stands up and grabs a screwdriver from the floor.
There is the sound of more movement, closer to her, then silence.
Slowly, she turns her head to her left, and, just outside the left wing, the PHANTOM st
The Matchlock GunThe Matchlock Gun by MirkwoodElf
INT. HOUSE - SITTING ROOM - NIGHT
A pounding rain can be heard outside.
A MAN, CAPTAIN TEUNIS VAN ALSTYNE, stands near the fireplace and struggles to put on a blue uniform coat of the Guilderland Militia.
A WOMAN, GERTRUDE VAN ALSTYNE, stands by the table, watching him, her face blank.
Tell me again where youre going.
Did Van Aernam say whether there were any French?
Teunis reaches for a musket hanging above the hearth. He turns it around, examines the powder horn, then fills it from a big horn from beside the heart.
I dont know. Indians, anyway. He said the settlers were running down from the north to the Flats. A horseman reached Albany two hours past noon.
RelianceA/N: Set between Chapter 34 One Smile Makes the Difference and Chapter 19 A Change in Fate.Reliance by ShiyaHawk
Nuisance (n) - a person, thing, or circumstance causing an annoyance; a person or situation that causes problems or is a bother.
Dependent (adj) - relying on someone or thing for aid and support; a person who relies on another for assistance.
Useless (adj) - of no use; not serving a purpose or any purpose; of no practical good.
That's what Shayera felt like as she sat on the couch in hers and John's apartment. She felt like a useless, overly dependent nuisance. Asking for help or assistance was something Shayera was never known for or very willing to do. It was a foreign concept to her Thanagarian culture. Even in her current condition she still felt the need to do things on her own. Even if such activities were next to impossible for her to accomplish on her own.
Shayera had quickly learned of the many disadvantages of being heavily pregnant. The worst being t
One Step at a Time Chap. 18A Night Alone Together</I>One Step at a Time Chap. 18 by NTjm505
It was a night that I would never forget. Everyone was having fun talking to each other. Like old times. I look over seeing Lucy and Loki talking to each other. I ‘m really happy for the both of them. Natsu came behind me. “It’s really nice to see the two of them being together.” he said to me. “Yeah, I’m really glad for the both of them.” I said. “So, you back in the guild.” I nodded. “I’m going to jobs in the mornings and afternoons. And in nights, I’m going to continue my job as a stripper.” Natsu smiled at me.
“So, I overheard from Ashido and Jester. They said they’re going to keep the club alive. Ashido is the new owner, and he going to treat his employees respectively. Expect for Jester.” “What?” I laughed. “I’m just kidding. Jester is going to treat him respect too.
The Better StoryThe Better Story by shadowsmokeandfire
“So, the clergyman went back to Rome and reported to the Pope…”
It was Christmas Eve, 2013, and my grandpa had been regaling my family and I with the Knanaya legend for the past hour. The Knanaya legend is the story of how “my people” migrated from Israel and came to live in southern India, specifically the state of Kerala.
“Don’t roll your eyes,” my mother said, poking me in the side.
“Mom, I’ve heard this story so many times, I can recite it in my sleep. Why can’t Grandpa tell me the real history of the Knanayas?” I queried while yawning. My grandpa continued to talk over us, his movements and voice grand and exaggerated.
“The legend is the real story of the Knanayas,” my dad piped in from my left. “There are some embellishments, of course, but the basic outline is true.”
“So we did migrate from the Middle East to India for the spice trade?” I asked incredulously.
The FacadeThe Facade by shadowsmokeandfire
I sat on my stoop, my cousins splayed out around me. It was a summer day in India, the sort of day that makes moving a Herculean task. One of my older cousins, Joel Chetai, had gone inside the house to grab some water but had yet to return. I wondered what was taking him so long when he appeared above me, dangling my Hello Kitty diary above me.
I sprang up and began I chasing Joel Chetai around the house, attempting to wrangle my sacred book from his claws. He always held it just out of my reach, making me beg for it. After ten minutes, I gave up hope of ever seeing my diary again. I began to walk away when Joel Chetai started reading my latest entry.
“Don’t tell them any of your interesting facts, D.E.L.A. I know you’re not trying to, but it makes you seem like a show-off,” Dad instructed, keeping both hands firmly on the steering wheel in front of him. I had a four-day vacation from the strenuous academics of fourth grade, and my family in Detroit had
The Gifts My Father Gave MeThe Gifts My Father Gave Me by shadowsmokeandfire
I cannot sleep if my room is not in pristine shape. Some may call me anal, some obsessive, but I need my room to be neat and organized, free of clutter and other paraphernalia.
I guess you could say my room represents my philosophy on life- cut out the extraneous. That’s easier said than done though. There are four gifts from my father just sitting in my room, and I cannot get rid of them. It feels wrong to throw them out, as if they were nothing more than old socks or rotten meat. They hold too many memories. It would be too painful to let them go.
My Stuffed Dog
A brown and white creature creatively named Puppy 1, this stuffed dog had been Dad’s present for my third birthday. It was wide-eyed and soft, a child for a child.
My parents were arguing. Again. So far on our three day trip, they had argued at least twice a day. Well, I suppose arguing is not really the right word. It was mostly just Dad yelling at my mom for the most trivial things. Currently, he was bera
Losing The Creative SparkSomewhere in the depths of my mind is an everlasting well of ideas. But sometimes it's hard to lift the heavy lid. And around it has grown up a tangled jungle called Real Life, making it hard to find amongst the clusters of thoughts.Losing The Creative Spark by The-Random-Dreamer
The very thing that I used to love escaping from has subdued me, caught me in its grasp. I used to write instinctively, without thinking. I hated having to analyse language in English lessons, because I didn't believe that writers put any conscious thought into their work. Now, I'm more than happy to analyse everything I read or write - which leaves less room for sudden flashes of inspiration. I believe that once we start to grow up our imagination weakens, like eye sight in old age.
If course I still write every day, but only my diary and ongoing projects. Which is definitely a good thing; I never used to be able to keep going with a novel for long. I plan my work thoroughly now, to ensure it makes sense. I lose myself in the world I've created (and no ot
Drowning Sirens: Chapter OneDrowning Sirens: Chapter One by OfOneSoul
Chapter One: Voyeurism
"How many kids do you have?"
A voice crowed from across a large maroon fence separating all the neighborhood's front yards. Deanna Finnegan accidentally dropped the large box marked "breakable" and cringed at the sound of shattering dinner plates. She clenched her fists nervously and caught the eyes of her disapproving stepmother in her peripheral vision.
"Just pick it up, Deanna." The immediate Mrs. Finnegan ordered, raising her tone at the end of the sentence to intensify her disdain. Deanna scowled and watched curiously as her father crept towards the large fence until he came face to face, so to speak, with a large, gray eye. He knocked on the wood which caused the voyeur to turn away.
Deanna followed her father to the end of the fence and listened as the new neighbors made their introductions. "Hi, my name's Liam Finnegan, and this is my daughter, Deanna." Deanna nodded politely, grateful to be out of her stepmother's line of vision.
Drowning Sirens: PrologueDrowning Sirens: Prologue by OfOneSoul
Prologue: A picture is worth a thousand words...
Just off the Gulf of Mexico Mrs. Waverly was peeling the skin from a boiled shrimp she had bought at the market that morning. The steam had begun to rise in her quaint kitchen and she had raised all of her windows to thin the air. The smells of the sea rushed into her house, mixing with the hydrangeas and lavender she had planted outside.
She inhaled deeply and strolled into the living room, wiping her hands on a damp rag. Mrs. Waverly stopped just in front of the bay window facing the ocean basin. Off in the distance she could see the docks and a few fishing boats barely returning from their day's work. She pressed her fingertips against the glass and smiled warmly as the small heads of her children bobbed across a hill of murky white sand.
Mrs. Waverly waved to them generously as they held up their toy buckets in triumph. The face of her eight year-old son was smug and confident while her four-year old daughter's was f
Note To Self: 12/15/12Note To Self: Its always fun to escape with your father for New Jersey and come home at 6:30 am.Note To Self: 12/15/12 by strawburdeath
Soavist Quote: Internal TimebombAs ourselves, only we have the true power to disable our personal explosives. Sadly only too late do we realise this, so when one (another person) wishes to attempt such a feat- allow them. No, they may not have attained the true means to diffuse you, but neither do you more often than not. Even you alone do all this for temporary measures with shoddy tools- you know not how to utilise; for they are yourself.Soavist Quote: Internal Timebomb by ShadowsOfAVorlon
Someone will too possess these shoddy tools and lack of experience, but just because you cannot does not mean they cannot. It is greatly astonishing to see how observing from differing points of view, frequently gives one an alternate perspective, and so a, perhaps not the, means to do the seemingly unexpectedly impossible.
Will Even Family Forgive?I committed a crime,Will Even Family Forgive? by Starija
one that not only cannot be forgiven
but should not be forgiven.
And how is anything forgiven?
I can try and try,
try as I might until death
but a mistake that's done is unforgettable
and all I'm left with is regret and knowledge
to not make the same mistake again.
But what if I do it again?
Sometimes I get to wondering,
I wonder if my family will take me back
if my daddy understands or if my mom cares
but I wonder most
if my baby brothers and sisters forgive me
because really, the fault is mine and mine alone
for abandoning them
and rendering them disabled forever without cure.
And how do I change now?
I'll try to pay them back in my prison home,
learn to fight and toughen up
so I can try to go back, if they'll take me
and never let my siblings out of my sight again.
So how do I go about it?
It's better to be overprotective,
than to leave them to die the way I once did
and what's more
it's no crime, no crime to protect your loved ones at all.
The Symphony of RainWhere orange rays free fall from the sky,The Symphony of Rain by SereneCyrene
where heaven's time ceases to deny
the desire for a weeping cloud,
hear the sky roar out loud...
As you stretch your hand out for a tear
near the deep vertical atmosphere.
"Can't this sorrowful terrain
spare any room for rain?"
Break to the symphony of rain!
Feel it's darted arrows plunge,
throw your adrenaline into a lunge,
and watch nature start to breathe.
The heart now stands to know
of an indescribable water flow.
Break to the symphony of rain,
the sweet symphony of rain!
Where orange rays free fall from the sky,
is where a fair child questions why
the stars won't create a path
for the clouds to finally pass...
As he stretches his hand out for a tear
near the deep vertical atmosphere.
"Can't this sorrowful terrain
spare any room for rain?"
Back to Chorus x1
And the stillness after a storm
slanders the tension of a beating sun.
Just a shower thirty seconds long
slanders the tension of a beating sun.
Back to Chorus x2
Ba Dundun Ba Dundun Ba Dundun...BaBa Dundun Ba Dundun Ba Dundun... by strawburdeath
I can be
You might just
When you see
What gives me glee
You might take
Take a peek
What do you see
When you look at me
Covered with spiders
Do I give you the shivers?
Why does your lip quiver?
Is the grass not green enough?
Welcome to the other side!
What have you done
To my one
Beautiful it was
Bright as the sun
Dark as the depths of my heart
Deep will you look
My heart you thought you took
But my knife will be taking yours
Try once again
Who I am inside
I DARE YOU!!!
Song of OsettoSong of Osetto by xXsugar0cubeXx
Let the islands join together like they once were!
Back to the times before Ikar won!
Before he tore us from one another!
Praise Osetto for joining us together!
Thank the other Gods for helping us.
Thank the other Goddesses for bringing us fresh water.
Let us enjoy what we have been brought!
Tips on Avoiding Word ConfusionWord confusion. You’re and your. To, two, and too. Their, they’re, and there. Effect and affect. Its and it’s. Then and than. Who’s and whose. Get the point? Good. Now learn the difference between these words.Tips on Avoiding Word Confusion by TheBloodyEpicPumpkin
You’re and your.
You’re is a contraction, meaning that humans, being lazy like we are, decided to make two words into one. You’re and you are mean the same thing. Your is possessive, meaning it shows ownership. Replace you’re with you are, then read the sentence again. If it doesn’t make sense, you’re probably looking for your. (Hey, look, a proper use of you’re.) If you’re owning something like your ego or your grammar, use your. (Look! My tips double as examples.)
To, two, and too.
Two is a number. Are you talking in terms of numbers? Did she have two slices of cake? Did he pick up two hookers? In other words, you can replace two with 2 (only, not really, because you
What is a Mary-Sue?--Character StudyIf you happen to love writing like I do, you tend to hear this term thrown around every once in a while. Mostly about characters created for fanfiction, but it can also apply to literature that stands on its own. Not everyone knows what it means, so I'll do a little clarification.What is a Mary-Sue?--Character Study by geekgirl8
When most people hear the term, they think of a peppy, annoyingly snarky girl with oddly-colored hair and a contrived name who is impossibly hot, possesses an innumerable amount of magical powers, and really can do no wrong and has no weakness. And in some cases, this trope is correct. In reality however, ANY kind of character can be a Mary-Sue. It depends on how the character is portrayed by the author.
Here are some examples. I'm going to use my character Sawyer Stone from one of my stories as a healthy example of a character, and a character I just made up named Anthy Silverbell for the Mary-Sue. She's already off to a bad start due to her having that name of hers, but let's continue.
I'm going to describe
Contest time once againHello you fantastic writers.
Well we have our contest.
The category is memories.
Your themes are one of the following:
-The betrayer returns
-Forgiveness would be a lie
-“This bench was once ours”
-2000 word limit (+/-10%)
-Submissions go in the "Current Competitions folder"
-An original story (can already exist)
-Must be submitted by the 20/05/2013
-You can submit up to 2 entries
And MOST important rule of all; any questions or problems then note the group. We're always happy to help
1st place will receive 100 points and a poem by Lucain24
2nd place will gain 80 points
3rd place will earn 60 points
And 4th place will be given 40 points
1st Place- The piece will earn its place into our esteemed featured folder
2nd and 3rd Place- The pieces will earn their places in our new “Honourable Mentions” folder.
1st, 2nd and 3rd winners will all be f
CLOSED: Contest: February 1st - February 28thThis Contest is now closed! Thank you for all the participants. We will start judging soon, and get back to you! (: March's Contest will be announced within the next few days!
February brings the romance out of everyone – what are your experiences, thoughts, and deepest desires?
-= Competition Rules =-
Theme: The Best Romance Story
Word Count: None. Write as many or as little as you would like.
Entrants must be a member of InspireandCreate
One entry per member
Open from the 1st of February, 2013 until the 28th of February, 2013
At least five deviants need to enter, or the competition will close [smaller, thank you prizes may be given to entrants, depending on circumstances].
Be submitted into the ‘Romantic Antics’ Folder
[Bullet; Red]Link this journal and the group :devInspire
This is the big one!Ladies and gentlemen, we are proud to announce our next contest!
What the hell is a "scratch that?"
An excellent question! This is the biggest thing this group has ever done. It will be 5 rounds of tournament style writing, with varying themes and writing styles! Each round will last 2 weeks! (Dates will be posted further along in this journal.)
Anyone can enter! We're trying to make this as big as possible, so members, non-members and their dogs may enter! Bare in mind, however, that the very first round will be an audition. Only 50 people will then be selected to go through to the competition, so make sure you write to the very best of your ability!
At the end of every round, 5 people will be eliminated. We will celebrate the best poet of that round by giving them small prizes.
That sounds awesome, but what's in it for me?
Prizes, my friend. Riches beyond your wildest dreams, fame and glory.
No, I lied. Here's what is actuall
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