My writing!

This is my official writing thread. Like Grizzle-iz, I write too. I'm buzzin', I didn't edit this and kind of shit it out. I hope its not shit. If it is, i'll get rid of it in the morning and write something better. If it is good, this is the official thread where I put my writing! jfdklasdajkf The sky was overwhelming. Standing on the front doorstep of that old house, staring up at it. I almost felt dizzy. The vast sheet of black strewn above me; concepts too hard to even begin to grasp. There were no stars. The dark night sky was just looming above my head, almost threatening to move down and engluf me...I just took another drag from my cigarette and exhaled the smoke in its direction. Fuck off, sky. Stop haunting me. The sky, it did bother me. It didn't matter how sober I was. Wherever I went there it was, stretching above me, only ending at the horizon. I knew it went farther than that. Neverending. The sky was almost an illusion. That's what I thought sometimes. But wherever I drove, wherever I stood, I always found myself looking up at it. Either admiring the cloud formations or its empty space. Admiring...It was beautiful. But it haunted me. The sky always reminded me of the places I had been. Places I wanted to forget. It always reminded me how meaningless I was as a human being... The night sky was the worst. I glared up at it for a moment, then I dropped that cigarette to the ground and smothered it underneath the sole of my sneakers. Chuck Taylors. I took in one last deep breath of that winter air, I let it freeze the moisture in my breath, in my lungs for one last moment before turning my back on it all and stepping inside.


  • Pretty fun. I'd probably change the last two lines of the first paragraph because it's too conclusive when you keep talking about the sky fot two more paragraphs. Save it for the very end or something. Also probably about the sneakers; say something other than just the brand name or else keep it to just "shoes" or I'll just be sad.
  • well, that all sounds like good advice. I need to edit it, and its really just a few random bits that probably won't ever be anything more than that.
  • i don't understand short abstrakt writing and or poetry! i admit it! i don't damn get it! gahhhh! i'm SORRY!!!
  • haha! Its okay GO! I wish there was some awesome thing I could tell you so you would get it, but I guess I feel there isn't much to get. Just someone smoking a cigarette outside, thinking about the sky.
  • The opening line and the directions you take the reader: from the immediate, to the recent past, the indistinct past, out of the speaker's head and into a shared world (we all can see the sky) and then back into the speaker's now, with it's defiant little ending...I like it. Strewn is a good word. A+
  • I loved that. Even though it was short, it didn't feel like it needed more, or like it was lacking anything. Very nice.
  • thanks guys! I especially appreciated your little description of it, wini. I'm satisfied with it, for something that took very little effort. Phantom definitely hit the nail on the head for what was wrong with it though. Its hard, having actually written it, to really put my finger on the flaws.
  • You're welcome. This sounds bad but although I can see things that I'd change, I can't be creative and yet original to save my life.
  • I really like it. THough, I agree with Phantom about the conclusive last sentance in the first paragraph. But the whole thing is like a quick hit, its short and sweet. Are you inspired by AC's lyrics? (stupid question, I know) I can see the sort of style in your writing.. I like this line: [quote]I took in one last deep breath of that winter air, I let it freeze the moisture in my breath, in my lungs for one last moment ... [/quote] <!-- s:) --><img src="{SMILIES_PATH}/smile-1.gif" alt=":)" title=":)" /><!-- s:) -->
  • Thanks guys. I'm sure I was inspired by AC subconciously. That's all I really listen to lately and they really inspire me with everything that I do, creative or not. I've always written like this though, I find my style seems to match up with theirs alright at times. It made me think of What Would I Want? Sky after I wrote it, even though I just found myself thinking of my parents old house and how HUGE the sky seemed there, on top of that hill in the middle of the woods.
  • so i'm going to enter a little writing contest. The question i'm responding to is "What will you say when asked why you never stopped _____" that blank space is writing for me. Here is my response. I would like help editing it and maybe making it fit the question better. I'm going to keep working on it myself anyways since I just kinda spit it out right now. You can respond with any style writing. Sometimes when I sit in the moving car, someone else behind the wheel, I lean my head against the glass and shut my eyes. There are lots of words that scroll through my brain. A lot of the time I think of the past. Of days I spent as a child. As a little girl I would wander out into the woods and stand next to this stream. It was so big then…The moss would sink under my feet and water would brush against the sides of my shoes. As I stood there I would look to the opposite bank. There was a unicorn that stood there. It was black; no one else could see it. Sometimes I struggled trying to decide whether it was just an image in my head or if it was real. Or if it was both. I could feel its presence, I just knew it. My eyes open as the car slows and we stop at a light. I gaze at the red and begin to itch. It’s a mental itch. Staring ahead, watching the lines on the road rush by I think about what became of that stream, of that unicorn. Two women live in that house now, in the woods, near the stream. The house is green now instead of blue. The barn is falling down. The stream is probably just as neglected. And that unicorn…he’s long been forgotten. Thinking about those things make me itch again. I chew my fingernails and tap my feet. Its only until I am home again that I can scratch. I pick up a pencil and sit with a pad of drawing paper in hand and begin to write. They are words that don’t matter and are for no one but me. With sentences sprawling across my paper the thoughts can move on and that unicorn…he can move on too.
  • (: I like it.
  • Oh, I love it! What a great thought. So, how would you complete the initial sentence?
  • why thanks! My sentence would be 'What will you say when asked why you never stopped writing?'
  • I like that. Strange co-incidence: The house I grew up in is located on one of the last "suburban" streets before the hill turns into...foresty dirt road. And when my friend and I would drive up it at night, I would always freak her out by saying "Imagine looking up that dark road and seeing a black unicorn. Just standing in the middle of the road" She'd always flip out and say "DON'T EVEN TALK ABOUT THAT!" Didnt' know black unicorns were so popular.
  • haha, that was my thing when I was little. He was my imaginary friend. I hatched him from an egg. My imagination was wild. sometimes I even believed he was real.
  • Some say reality is just an agreed-upon illusion.
  • I like to think of it as that. I edited that a little and entered it in that contest. I also entered another contest, they are on deviantart, but I figured its a good way to get me back into the groove of writing.
  • write me a script! a perfect sub pre skript that i can shun! there's my little honey bun get a load of THIS: dino might!
Sign In or Register to comment.