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I just needed to write something. It's... not great, but you should read it anyway.

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Estranged

Jul. 10th, 2006 02:11 pm
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Just a little short story I've had in my head for awhile. It's called "Estranged"

Estranged )

Downsized

May. 25th, 2006 04:19 pm
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This one too.

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I realized I never put this up here... it's from about 2003, and was published in the high school's creative writing publication... thingy.

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Well, here it is. The story has been swimming in my head for weeks now, and I finally have it fixed in such a way that I am thoroughly satisfied. So now, after a wait of 10 months, I present to you

CHAPTER 2


Night Walkers )

Never forget that I always appreciate input, good or bad. This won't be a good story unless I get constructive criticism, so be honest.

But also be nice. I'm a sensitive artist.

Word soup

Nov. 14th, 2005 10:24 pm
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Objurgate, ameliorate, obliterate.
Conjugate, perforate, elaborate.
Word soup, word soup, in my bowl:
clamboring, assaulting, dampening my soul.
Fondle, bungle, jingle, bale.
Dawdle, jungle, mingle, hale.
Fear the unknown, cross the t!
Dot the i and use a z!
It's not really normal, nor is it sane.
It's not really even easing the pain.
Height! Fright! Bright! Light!
Plight! Right! Flight! Night!
The jumble, crossword, cryptoquip:
part of the soup, the soup that I sip.
Word soup, word soup, in my bowl:
Ripping, burning, hurting hole.
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Recall what I said?
To write in here once a month.
Boy, how that faltered.
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I had a really insane creative burst last night, and it kept me up while I wrote the first half of this next installment in my story. I just finished writing it, so you're the first to see it. Enjoy. Input is always appreciated.

Chapter 1 )
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This is a little half-assed. It was written in class when I should've been taking notes. So. Yeah.

Try so hard to look so good,
you're really just a fool.
I see through your cold hard shell
that you think looks so cool.
Your messy hair, your glasses, too!
Your image, style, and jeans.
Adopted from some TV shows
and superficial fashion magazines.
You're phony, stupid, and shallow.
You disgust me in so many ways.
I know you hide behind a mask.
I see your lifeless gaze.
I see the pain within your eyes:
the pain you hide from all.
The pain created from your mask
which willl be your downfall.
Throw the mask away, my friend!
The media isn't who you are.
It's something that consumes your mind
and lets your soul be marred.
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Alrighty kiddos, as promised, here it comes to you. Hot off the presses (or my keyboard), it's the very first installment of my epic tale of the creature called Leujin. Brace yourselves for this blockbuster event of the season! It's sure to be an INSTANT hit! </shameless self promotion> Look, just read it. I know it still has some kinks, but a) it's the first draft and b) I'm a 19 year old ART student. Bite me. prologue )
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Oy, I just started writing not that long ago. Guess what I've finally started? That's right, my story about my crazy vampire role-playing dude. The one for which my regular journal gets its namesake. I'm almost finished with the prologue, so look forward to seeing it sometime next month. There's still some tweaking to be done to it, but it shall be magnificent. Also, tentative title: Nightwalkers. Mind you that's just tentative, so it's bound to change. In fact, I think there's something by that name already. Oh well. Look for it next month.
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The eagle sat upon his perch,
surveying the land below.
Magestic beauty, mysterious bird,
and all those stories we know.
The lizard skittered across his view,
not knowing what was to be done.
Back and forth he traversed the rocks.
He basked in the warmth of the sun.
The creatures sat for what seemed hours:
the hunter and the witless prey.
They sat unstill, untwitching,
seeming to be molded in clay.
The eagle made his daring move!
It made an unearthly crunch.
Too long, the lizard sat unmoving.
He'd become the eagle's lunch.

*authors note: admitedly the rhyming is a little half assed, but it's been awhile since I wrote a poem. Gimme a break.
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Okay, I don't have anything new to write in here, sadly, but I just wanted to say that I've decided I'm going to be writing in here (as in an actual poem or short story) at least once a month, in spite of what sort of complications might try to stand in the way. Starting this month. So hopefully by the end of the month you can look forward to seeing something new in here for all like... 5 of you that read it. Aye.
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He watched the water washing by.
He saw his dreams within them:
It seemed as though they called to him,
Begging him to join them.
He watched the rain drops hit the puddle,
and he watched the figures dance.
He heard them all scream out his name,
as they begged him for a chance.
A chance to see what could've been,
A chance to will away his sorrows.
A chance to witness could've beens,
A chance for a better tomorrow.
They called to him, and tromped about.
They asked for some redemption.
They only wanted one more friend,
They just wanted some attention.
He begged the figures go away.
All he wanted was his solitude.
He yelped and howeled "go away!"
But the figures stood with fortitude.
The rain washed down the gutters.
It washed into the streets.
It washed across the dancing figures,
and still they met no defeat.
The rain continued pouring down
across the poor man's face.
The torrent raged for days and hours
In this single lonely place.

For Liz

Jun. 3rd, 2004 12:12 am
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There's so much more to know about you. So much more to learn.
You fan the flames within me, and make the passion burn.
Memories will fade away, and friends will soon be gone,
But one thing that will surely last is the thing that we have done.
I still remember meeting you, the way you made me smile.
Practically floating when you walked, and cheerful all the while.
You send my heart asunder, and you make me leap with joy.
You make me do such foolish things, and be a foolish boy.
For you I would move mountains. For you I'd kill a bear.
For you I'd go to any length, all for your love and care.
I ask for your devotion. I ask your strength, your skill, your trust.
I want to share my love with you (and just a hint of lust).
My love for you does not know bounds. It follows hi and low.
My love for you does anything, and this is all I know.
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I actually wrote this for junior English. We had to use so many poetic technics, but considering that it was forced it's actually really neat.

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Lesse... I wrote this... four years ago, I think? I'm not really sure. It was in my person journal (ooh, massive secrets, shock!)

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Un

Mar. 9th, 2004 09:39 pm
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I wrote this two years ago, as well as the previous poem.

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