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Late Night StudyingAgain and again my eyes would scan a line, but this late in the night the words stopped registering. Stopped making sense. My eyes felt dry and heavy, and then there was the yawning.
“I’ll just rest my eyes…” I’d taken to mumbling things to myself. The silence of the texts were driving me mad. “Just for a second,” I insisted.
But it wasn’t for just a second, and I knew it was foolish of me to believe it. What woke me was the clock tower above me striking the hour. Four loud bongs then silence. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and stared at the pages in front of me. None of it made sense and I sighed. Then yawned. I sat up leaning backwards, pressing my hands to my eyes, perfectly content to drift off to sleep again.
“You should get some sleep.”
I know… I thought to myself. And then I realized the one speaking was not myself and jumped.
“Arcturus!” I yelped, turning in my seat to face the nosey, big-no
In a Split Second There was a split second of pain, and then all the feeling was gone. For a while everything had gone dark and I stopped thinking. Next to come was the feeling, and then my mind to register the feeling was there. I tried to remember what has just happened, what strange dream I had last night.
I had been flying. Yes. I could feel the wind in my feathers, the rush of air of my face, the adrenaline. But no, something wasn’t right. I wasn’t flying, I was falling. Plummeting from the Sky. The panic took hold of me, I was paralyzed. My senses were heightened yet I couldn’t understand what they were telling me. There was whistling in my ears, they popped as I dropped like a rock, the fall feeling like forever and yet the ground came all too fast. I relived my death and plunged back into darkness.
I was shaking, my heart, I think it was my heart, was pounding. I couldn’t calm down there was no escape
Country in Crisis TeaserAutumn. Such a beautiful time. Such a perfect time.
It had always been Terra's favorite. Just when it seemed as though the summer sun would never relent, the weather felt cooler. Breezier. Still warm just not hot. Even in a humid area like her own, it felt cool and relaxing.
But of course, not everyone could find this simple pleasure. To find peace and serenity through nature. But she was an earth. She, like all in her country, controlled an element. An element that was passed down from generation to generation through genetics. She controlled earth.
Earth. Most people think just the dirt and grim. And then again that's what most earths controlled, but this was where she stood out. She had a rare gift. One that allowed her control of plants and their growth. Because of this gift, every time Terra went outside, she couldn't help but stop and let nature overwhelm her. Especially now.
Autumn. Her favorite time of year
Walking down the path to a place unknown, Terra closes her eyes.
How to be a better writer!How to be a better writer, or
Even a better artist.
“Trust me”, I have experience,
I’ve been at it for years.
Let me give you a few simple guidelines,
Some that I myself go off of,
And I’ll pretend that my style,
Choice of words, will work for everyone else.
And let’s not forget to mention that
I am a premium member! A beta tester!
A senior member!
Till hell freezes over!
I must know what I’m talking about?
In all my greatness and glory!
I have the authority,
To tell others how to make their art better.
Let’s cut the bullshit here and now,
And ignore those people who tell us our style.
One person, so skilled and great,
With art that all tend to appreciate,
Does not have the right to lead ‘his’ flock,
To determine whose art is worthy or not.
You write one way I write another,
My thoughts are calm, while yours are loud as thunder.
She strokes left, but he’ll stroke right,
Her art his peaceful, but his depicts a fight.
A pencil i
Avoidant Personality DisorderI've never gotten to explain this to anyone before, since every time I try, I break into some sort of sobbing fit. If my explanation sounds a little funky, that may be why.
Yeah. So, I have APD, or Avoidant Personality Disorder.
To summarize, it's a disorder that makes people want to avoid social contact and criticism by all means.
Unfortunately, that includes me.
I didn't know about the disorder until I browsed through psychological disorders for writing purposes, and happened to find it. I matched every single symptom.
Every last one, period. And I believe, wholeheartedly, that I have it.
This isn't your WebMD diagnosis, not when you feel so badly.
It's a really difficult feeling to describe.
Whenever you so much as try to make conversation with any person, you feel like chopping your head off. In my case, you're afraid to say hello. Or goodbye, or thank you, or I love you, or things that people should be able to say without stopping to think.
You feel unworthy o
Entry Four- Step One Almost CompleteStop.
Stop comparing myself to others.
I am different from you, him, her, them, they.
Just because I believe differently from you doesn’t make me a horrible person.
anyway.there are things i know too well about you, and most of them break my heart just remembering them. i knew the look in your eyes right before you would cry, or how it would snap and change from a look of swelling tides to unfiltered rage, aimed directly at me. cause i was the closest thing that you could bruise or throw your words at that wasn't a wall, or yourself. it wasn't damaging you, and as far i was concerned, that was worth a few flourishes or a swollen eye.
the alternative just wasn't worth mentioning or comparing.
there was something not right in your head, maybe the vodka or whatever you drink dissolved a synapses or two, because the notion of cause and effect didn't seem to make any sense, and empathy was just completely lost on you. i did love you, the best i knew how to, the best i could with the cards you gave me. i don't know if you returned those feelings when you were sober and weren't forced to be honest. drunken words are apparently the truths we can't admit when we'
Magic HourMagic Hour
by Kit the Wolfy
I always keep a cool and sunny place in my heart.
A place where the sky glows with the rich blue and pink and yellow of dusk and dawn, and everything is in picture-perfect clarity.
It's my own private magic hour.
And in this magic hour where everything is clear and bright, I take some time every day to reflect.
Reflect on the people I love.
Even if it's hard to continue, and even if I have scars,
My magic hour always heals the pain.
So, every day, I take a little time to retreat into my heart, into my magic hour.
And in that magic hour, I sit down in the grass, lie back, stare up at the shining sky...
And I think about how grateful I am that I have the people I love.
EmotionalA lot of people say that emotions is what makes us human because it's healthy for us to stay happy, joyful, and to always smile. But, what if the table was turn? In fact, is it turned already? Because some people can't feel that way.
What if instead they felt the opposite? What if they felt sad, pessimistic, and always cried tears every day in their lives? Some of them can't help, but feel like that. They feel like they're hopeless, mistakes, imperfect, or not good enough, anxious, depressed, bipolar, tearful, broken, and never going to be the person they dream of being.
So the real question is: Is being any other emotion besides happiness make us human?
NothingAnd the preview shows Nothing, just like the title of this poem.
But what's behind the "Nothing"? If you come closer you will see anything that is, paradoxically, "The Nothing."
Lost!Meandering through a dense jungle, lost in my own thoughts.
Climbing through the thickets, beating back the vines!
The path ahead with its twists and turns, seems to lead nowhere!
Now standing stock-still, scanning the forest rooftop, I feel so alone!
Is there no one who can hear me, as I cry out for guidance?
No one to reach out to, so as to take my hand?
But wait! Is that a sliver of light I see, shining through the darkness?
It is my angel, here to comfort me!
[transmissions of a dead girl]i am the
moon: i am
the silver pill
to weigh down
into leaden eyes--
i am the
of the dark.
the stars are
all dead in their
you'll be safe, dear,
as i am the moon,
with all of your
(i am good bye and yet,
you think only of romantic
i am the moon.
i am the crescent
and dead altogether,
i still die.
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