• 🇬🇧󠁿 🇸🇪 🇿🇦 🇮🇪 🇬🇭 🇩🇪 🇪🇺
    European & African
    Drug Discussion


    Welcome Guest!
    Posting Rules Bluelight Rules
  • EADD Moderators: axe battler | Pissed_and_messed

The Writing Thread V Yes I'm trying again <3

Eveleivibe

Ex-Bluelighter
Joined
Sep 28, 2013
Messages
14,780
Hiya my lovely Blueliiiiiiighters,

I tried a Poetry thread n EADD once n I deleted it as it ended up in a load of drama due to trolls. I spent a lot of my time writing n producing my poetry. If people feel it's no good - that's quite all right we all have our own ipinion but I feel that if we all reapect one another - this could world EADD. Pleade look in 'World' for how they have wrote poetry, rap verses, short stories etc.

Now I know that ColtDan is VERY good at writing verses. He'd done some in "Words" n I've suggested to him a few times that he could possiblt write something to music. I'm not sure if he can write music (please come back Dan you missed here).

There's a lot here can produce music that may be able to share some songs with us? If you feel you'd not like to do this due to personal reasons, fears of plagerisn or what-not, then that's fine but please encourage others on theor work so that we can have a thriving thread here at EADD.

Allein (thank you, Allein <3) has very kindly E-mailed me all of mt poetry from the previous thread (you see when a thread's deleted they can still see it). So if dveryone is OK with me doing so I's like to paste my work here?

I know that people like to joke around n EADD n that's ace, but as the owner of this thread I'd please, please, please ask can we keep comments serious n positive. Nowt wrong in constructive criticism but please bare in mind that some members are sensitive / vulnerable n it's big deal to put work out for everyone to see. So if some work is "crap" there's no need to say this. As that member may have mental health issues n comments like that can set them back months / yeaes. You may laugh but it's true n i want this thread to help people but be in EADD as most EADDers don't discens into BL (this is the Garden of Eden see n the rest of the world is scary). Where was? As not as not saying "this is crap" or whatever, if it's really not good work n others have also noriced it then my advice would be not encourage them ie "this really is ace, best story etc." Reason why I'm suggesting not to encourage is imagine if they then go onto a talent show n get reject/ bood/ paper toed up Etc?

Please just be careful asthis thread's my baby n I really want it to work this as well as help people. <3

I can be compassionate, believe it or not lol:)

Evey
 
I will make sure it is kept clean of any shite Evey. <3
 
Thank you, Allein, for saving n sending me these <3 (credit where credits due)

Feast in the Garden of evil

Come into my world, feast in my place,
Show yourself, don't hide, reveal your face,
As you tear it up, break it down,
Feast on my remains, whilst acting the clown,

You want and somehow need my self-destruction,
Your physical form is invisible to me but I see you're the devil's son
Break me into pieces, eat each one,
You're so angelic, you're special; really you're Simply a con

Break it down, smash this place up,
Spill the devil's juice from nature's beastly cup,
Break it down, smash this place up, while;
Vomiting up the remains of the victims fate, out come the bile,

Walk the path of blood, fell the heat on the skin,
Drink the pain and misery, enjoy this little sin,
Smash down the walls,
Tear down the place as evil calls

Drink in blissful of satisfaction when viewing the wreckage,
All broken now, all scatted, doing so took no age,
Now in your vicious mercy
repenting fails and ugliness is hidden in the beauty one can only see.

Evey 30/01/2015

Angelic Enemy

Has my best interest at heart
Eyes sharp, aims for me with a perfect sharp secretive dart
Like kryptonite
Delivers destruction with a deadly bite

Eats at the soul
Like a cancer first visual signs start with the a single mole

Is this a coalition?
Or simple disruption,
An angel appearing within those eyes,
Or fire, darkness – a simple warning of a volcanic eruption?

Is everything as it appears
Or is the devil in disguise?
Is nature’s sky about to burst into tears?
Invisible storms, a mask being the deep blue skies

Is the devil weeping?
Evil tears into the angelic skin
Or are angels leaping
For the battle of pain and sorrow, striving to win

Is everything really how it may appear?
Or is there bad blood within a single tear?
Is everything really how it may appear?
Should one tread carefully, not step too near?

Evey
09/07/2011 (12:43)
---------------

Burgle His Mind

I wonder what is in his world,
I wonder what is kept in his box,
I wonder where the golden key is,
I wonder what each compartment holds,

I wanna understand emotion,
What makes it tick?
I wanna understand emotion,
What is its ulterior motive?
I wanna understand emotion,
And what its job is for me,

What is his pain?
What is his happiness?
Why is his world so tight?
So different to mine,
Why haven’t I a key cut?

I wanna understand emotion,
What makes it tick?
I wanna understand emotion,
What is its ulterior motive?
I wanna understand emotion,
And its job is for me,

Do I break in and burgle his mind?
Will I need a ladder?
Or an emotional sword,
Do I scream or ignore,
Or wait patiently at the door?

I wanna understand emotion,
What makes it tick?
I wanna understand emotion,
What is its ulterior motive?
I wanna understand emotion,
And what its job is for me,

2004

-----------

Knife of Hurt

No one knows how I feel,
Right now, scattered like orange peel,
Full of so many dreams,
No more, just endless means,

Sitting here with silent cries,
Pictured like stormy skies,
Fear of the unknown,
Just me here, all alone

Threatening to take her away,
As if she were a cat, just a stray,
Looking at me, judging me,
I am anxiously waiting what is to be,

I feel like I’m being ripped apart inside,
Tried so hard to prevent, this is why I lied,
Each morning I awake, it’s at me like a knife,
Reminding me that was another life,

I can’t help but push my loved ones away,
Like on a wrecked ship, casting them astray,
All I wanted was to be happy,
Yet it always goes wrong, I end up feeling crappy,

Why do I have to feel so much pain?
That leaves me all cast out and lame,
Why so bad does it hurt?
And why do I feel like a piece of dirt?

As I walk along,
I hope for a happier song,
To feel happy and good,
Without leaving others lying in the mud

11/06/2009

--------


Divided Self

Inside the body
Sits two demons, differences one cannot see,
Infected by good and evil
One shows such content and is so civil
The other full of bitterness, starts endless wars
The fights continues behind closed close doors

Inside, pulled in many a direction
Of nothingness and complex emotion
Try to live up to others’ desires
Becomes one’s own internal liar

This constant pull
From excitement all things dull
Brings about both confusion and yet simplicity
But are things really as our eye see

The constant strive for good
While hungering for blood
Drama fishing, yet peace hunting
The constant divided self – no one will ever win.

Evey 28/07/2014

------

EADD Part 1

Yay, here we are - EADD,
What will be, will be
Sometimes there are some great fights,
Other times pictures are shown, of some great sights,

There are those with the music; foolsgold and Dan
There's some currently on a temp-ban
Some of us; we like a good drink
For some it turns snappy, others they just do not think

When Raas is around, there's a good debate,
But PTCH steps in "No debate, it's a conversation, mate"
Evey comes along having an Evetrum,
Leaving everyone angry and glum,

One minute we are all fighting,
The next minute we're all inviting
Come in you newbs, step right on in
All welcome, we great you, members, mods and admin

E A D D, E A D D
What will be, will be
We talk, bitch, hug, fight like a big family
But stick together when really needs be

Evey 11/06/2014

-----------

The Bus

On the bus,
There is the usual fuss
On come the prams,
the OAPs, looking like dear little lambs

At the front is the bus driver, sometimes with a miserable face,
On he drives; gracefully or often in such a bloody disgrace,
Everyone, they sit there,
Some moan, some groan, some simply do not care,

Drives and Stops, on people come at each stop,
Whilst sometimes off others hop,
Yes it's the British bus, same whether; cold or in heat,
Get on and hurry up, either falling or sitting into a seat

Most people sit, some feeling grand,
Others too late, they must simply stand
Riding along on the bus, hearing its familiar roar
Knowing it won't be the last time, I'll be on this once more

Evey 11/06/2014

------------

Nature's Power

As one runs under no cover,
Has an intense feeling like no other
The wind blows through the air,
At that moment, one does not care,

Exercising in nature; in all its glory
Nature is illustrating a present story
One feels ace, good and empowered
Facing oneself is ace, better than being a coward

Run far, far into the sheet of exhilarating beauty
Feel everything around you and simply just be,
Try it if you dare,
Get some vitamin D in you, breathe in the natural air

-----

Nature's Child

As I walk on and on and on,
I'm conscious that, for so long I was wrong
Oh, for so long I ignored you so,
I stayed in, closed the curtains and became so low,

I forgot how my skin felt rapped around your natural air
And how it felt running with the wind rushing through my hair
You, I stopped paying attention and forgot to see,
You never forgot me so, but for that time you quietly let me be

I now know what I'm going to do,
Nature; I am coming back to you,
In your arms please embrace me once more,
Fill me with vitamin D, serenity, calmness and tranquillity as before.

Evey 11/06/2014

Paradox of Emotion

Emotions; so strong and powerful,
Intenses, sharp, electrifying, frightening, exciting; never dull;
In constant collision, drives attraction yet devision,

Hate is true love and love is true hate,
Are you ready for the rollacoaster ride of your life? It starts at the gate
The gate of paradox,
It feeds, it soothes, it needs, it wants, it closes down n locks,
The prison of complex emotion,
Consequences due for all that said and done,

The mind is now in flames, baby you're on fire,
It fed you quite a goose chase, you see - it was quite the liar,
Everything crumbles slowly to dust as the spirit begins to melt,
Feel it yea paradox it is that evil and good that's everything ever felt

One must stride forth, one must endeavour;
To cross over inevitability-alley; you forget see; the mind's far too clever,
Caged within those feuding feelings,
Wishing one was a bird, flying the skies with its helpful wings

Continuously prodding like multiple knives,
Emotional-paradox is enough to fill many lives,
Love and hate, hate and love are one and the same;
When one is imprisoned in the emotional-paradox game

01/02/2015

Stormy Calm

Its not needed
It's not wanted
But you know it
It is coming n someone's gna get hit

Sensing the coming storm,
Knowing its usual form
You are preparing,
You're internally swearing

You clench each palm,
But you know its needed to get your much needed calm,
You feel tense
But you know when over things will be ok, this you sense,

Cross-words,
Charging like several herds,
Fire blasts across the sky,
If you're loving this that's sure as a lie,

Hot and cold, hate n love collide,
Free this internal enemy I sure wanna hide,

Relief but full of emotional scars,
Oh 'eck pls ship me to Mars

Knowing I needed this,
Wishing it was something I could miss
But eh y'know without the storms ya can't get the calm,
You know it in your heart n in each cold palm,

Hate becomes love, love used to hate,
Now your my mate
But eh without the storms ya cant get the calm,
You feel in each palm,
You sense this,
But yea, the storm you wish ya could miss

(To be edits, will keep for now)

Evey 09/01/2015

------

Struggled Expression

Wish I could express myself,
I just feel like an elf,
So insignificant, unworthy,
This, in me, is what I see,

No matter how much I try,
It's just like living s lie,
It's hit n miss,
Y'know, I just can't do this,

Basically a cell,
Inside is emotional hell,
One day I may matter,
Instead of being like seeds most would rather throw n scatter,

Putting on pretending realism,
Is just the wrong decision,
Cause no matter what is my song,
Guaranteed its always wrong,
Yes now the turned ones can gloat,
Because it's gone wrong you see it in what I've just wrote,

Feel bruised n down,
It's the usual sound,
All one needed was to self-express,
But it always ends in a mess

Evey 23/01/2015

-----

Energy Collision

Negativity's got me
In my eyes its anger I see
Negativity I feel
I'm on my knees, it makes me kneel

It's colliding it's fighting,
Yet together as they sing
Negativity had me,
It had me hot it has me so angry

Need to rise to see,
And feel true positivity,
It's there its within
Yet together they continue to sing

Need to rise above
Need to find internal love
Positivity I need thee
Positivity I yearn for thee

Negativity your strong full of such pain,
I need the strength to play a different game
The game that grants true serenity,
Positivity I need thee.

When the fog is so strong,
And every turning is wrong
When the exhaustion is to much,
And the energy is to painful touch,

One needs to internally fight,
The clinging-demon to reach the light
For negativity to no longer have me,
Positivity I want thee,

Can no longer possess the negative energy that plagues me
Positivity I need thee
Positivity please have me

Evey 12/11/2014

--------

Energy Split (needs editing)

It is two yet it is also one
Divided, yet forever cast into life's song,
It is everywhere,
Right down to thought n the clothes we wear,

Which one you activate is your choice,
Think it through carefully, use your internal voice.
Your action impact on everything,
Your happiness, your health, n what you internally sing,
Every second, minute, hour they fight,
If they were a visual they'd be an interesting sight

You know I'm talking our two forms of energy,
Negativity and positivity; is what I feel around me,
The collision yet comparison,
Hate is love n love is hate,
You see this yea, see it, it's never too late.

---------

Spiritual-Reject

For so long I shut the door on you,
I let negativity in too,
Soon I started to forget,
Let down my safety net,

In came the anger,
outwardly I gave my surrender
Out came the hatred,
Burst of negativity; spiritual-destruction in my misery I hid

It spread n spread n spread,
Like a cancer it toxified me, filled others with dread,
Was on a negative path,
Less n less I'd laugh,

Each spell struck like a strong wave,
Others misunderstood; why don't you just behave?
Flying in came each dart,
Darkening my heart,

Of you I forgot; as I got further into misery,
Cause it needed company, don't you see?
Once more I'm back on the path,
Once more I'm finding out how to laugh.

26/01/2015

Wrote aged 16.

Regrets

Regrets is when time is too late,
Regrets are memories of bad we have done,
Regrets are full of loneliness and discontentment,
Regrets are of yesterdays, of the days we have wasted

So full of emtiness come thevregrets of our past,
Time ticks andvticks away,
But history keeps repeating itself, again and again,
I can't stop this happening, again and again,

Oh why do I make the same mistakes?
That I have regretted so many times before,
Yesterday I wasted so much time,
That was so valuable,
Help me get away,
From the regrets that darken my life,
That take away my love from others,
And the feelings in return.

23/10/1996

Twisted Reality

I sit here feeling guilty
For letting the frustration consume me,
Destroy me
Distort what I see and confuse me

When something becomes too much,
Far too much,
Everything else is moving away from my touch,
It's drifting, you see,
It's drifting, far, far away from me,

Rinse n repeat; It's repetition y'see
The way things have always been, always will be,
The beginning, always so powerful and magnetic,
Drawing me in, poisoning me; later it will make me sick,
The end; a broken reality,
Repeated misery, yes repeated misery,

The twisted fatality,
Why won't it let me be happy?
Overtaking, forsaking, addiction,
Before realisation hits, it's already said and done,

Balance and moderation - both reflect a foreign concept,
My loves; they were never kept,
Because everyone loved n mattered,
Got lost and scattered,

Things loved are forsaken,
Robbed and taken
Repetition; this twisted reality,
Past is invisible warning that the eye can never see,

28/01/2015
 
Last edited:
If Fentanyl was personified; she would resemble King Midas, but reign as Queen.

At one point, 750mcg of Fentanyl would have elicited the same pleasure, in me, as a 750kg bar of Gold would in the hands of the King.

Fentanyl presents to me as feminine in form, a cruel, elusive Femme Fatale.

She allows one to experience the purest opioid hedonism, euphoric, apathetic, analgesic, anaesthetic ecstasy.

But only once.
Just once.

The admission price for entry into her Nirvana climbs, scaling linearly with the desperation, the hunger, the agonising desire that only yields to she.
Exponential; in both price and diminishing return.

The true cost?
Only a fool would ask, the inquiry is but rhetoric.

Your soul.

The eternal bliss she promised? A lie. She exists there, alone.
Never again will you accompany her.

Cursed is every mortal who looks Her in the eyes, blinded by the wonderland.
She promises without remorse, her desire is infinite.
Cursed is he who observes Her, and yet cannot see the fiery, demonic, apocalyptic, soul-devouring abyss lurking just behind.


An old piece of mine. :)

<3
 
That was brilliant, Sprouty. Illustrating the dark, demonic nature of drugs.

I'd prefer it if it were about a natural opiate like heroin though. All these divine references about - what is just a synthetic drug, seem a little misplaced.
 
Well, if we're writing about opies, maybe I should dredge this up again:

It's funny; but no matter how bad you've got your own symptoms of your own withdrawal, the moment there's just the first, faintest little whiff of a score in the air, things suddenly don't seem as bad as before. Your phone screen hasn't even gone dark yet; but even as it's already trying to shine through your jeans pocket lining, your body has found some last reserve of something from somewhere to get you through this. From the moment you step away from the cash machine, your toenails no longer ache, your body feels as though it's at the right temperature for once. Even the dreaded Treacle Trudge evaporates; and the final journey to the rendezvous point, until a few short minutes ago an unimaginable nightmare of a prospect, is just like sliding down a rainbow, right into the waiting arms of your dealer.

On the ride home, your stash feels like an enormous pimple on your arse. But you know every bump, every change of direction, and the familiarity comforts you; keeps you grounded. Now the anticipation is really building; you are as taut as the thin layer of unforgiving denim that separates it from the world. Next time. you think to yourself, you should bring a special little tooter that will fit in your cigarette packet, a square of Susan and a lighter, and find yourself a secluded spot to sample the merchandise as soon as possible. But next time is a long way off. For now, it's enough to sit and let out a quiet sigh, thinking of all the times you have made this journey before; and of the times no doubt to come. Soon enough you will pounce with your tooter on the thin plume of vapour; sucking greedily at the aluminium nipple, enveloped in the soft, warm, snug, fleecy blanket of heroin.
 
That was brilliant, Sprouty. Illustrating the dark, demonic nature of drugs.

I'd prefer it if it were about a natural opiate like heroin though. All these divine references about - what is just a synthetic drug, seem a little misplaced.

Thank you!
I understand your point entirely, but Fentanyl was the opioid that ruined me, to put it simply. No other opioid was so insidious that it became almost human.

<3
 
I think it kinda emphasises the power of the substance that it's synthetic and yet still causing these feelings
 
....well bugger me, can't remember when I did this rather piss poor bit of prose but just found it and so here it is - I will try and find other bits n bobs I've done over the years:

A love storyHis eyes, bright blue and set deep in to a face that was etched with a thousand stories and though young had the look of a man who’s life was one of sadness and unfulfilled dreams..

A Marlboro perched, on the edge of his lips- he looked cool of that there was no dispute. He pulled on his favourite pair of Levi’s and a black tee shirt now he was ready to go out to pick up his princess.

They had first met 25 years ago when a friend of his, Mervyn, had introduced the pair and they had spent the remainder of the evening sat on a bed dreamily watching TV, and after that they were rarely apart. They had had there up’s and downs’ – he had left her a number of times, once for over three years but they always ended up getting back together the attraction was too much for him , and he always fell for her time and again.
Once he was out of the country, a 1000 miles away nobody knew him or his relationship but after several weeks suddenly she was with him again his ‘new’ friends were in contact with her and were quick in setting them back up again. Another time he sought help as he was certain his life was being ruined by their relationship, he planned three months in the seclusion of the Kent countryside but on the 5th day he returned home the urge was to much and after a phone call he was back with her- it nearly killed him he was bewitched and foolish, it had happened on a number of occasions they would break up and then after a few days, weeks, months, he would be back and he knew he had to be careful as she had little in the way of scruples.

He left the house now with one quick glance in the mirror and started his walk down the street with the tell-tale bounce in his gait and a feeling of nausea that wasn’t wholly unpleasant and rising excitement that always accompanied him when he was going to meet ‘his’ girl’. Then as was always the case, self-doubt crept in….’was he mad seeing her’, he knew deep down they were doomed to failure but the more he saw her the more he wanted to see her. He had made the call 40 minutes earlier and was now only two streets away, his paced quickened ever so slightly and he could already start to feel the euphoria rise from his toes right up through his body. He went over the ritual of checking his pockets making sure nothing had been left at home, and then jumping up the last two steps rang the door bell- it was answered quickly and efficiently by someone who knew the advantage of not letting people loiter on the doorstep.
Entering briskly and settling on an armchair.

“Where is she?”

“She? That’s a bit personal mate anyone would think that your making a habit of this”

He laughed at the rather weak but none the less true observation.

“Here’s yours”

As he passed over 3 tightly wrapped ‘balloons’.
And now at last he had the brown dream powder his life had been ruined by, the payment for dreams had a high price attached… Sadness and unfulfilled dreams.
 
Thank you!
I understand your point entirely, but Fentanyl was the opioid that ruined me, to put it simply. No other opioid was so insidious that it became almost human.

<3

I love the femme fatal analogy. And your assimilation of the drug to a devious female entity. It reminds me of a seductive woman, who let's you screw her once... just to captivate you, and when she's done so, uses that power to destroy you. Excellent.


Well, if we're writing about opies, maybe I should dredge this up again:

It's funny; but no matter how bad you've got your own symptoms of your own withdrawal, the moment there's just the first, faintest little whiff of a score in the air, things suddenly don't seem as bad as before. Your phone screen hasn't even gone dark yet; but even as it's already trying to shine through your jeans pocket lining, your body has found some last reserve of something from somewhere to get you through this. From the moment you step away from the cash machine, your toenails no longer ache, your body feels as though it's at the right temperature for once. Even the dreaded Treacle Trudge evaporates; and the final journey to the rendezvous point, until a few short minutes ago an unimaginable nightmare of a prospect, is just like sliding down a rainbow, right into the waiting arms of your dealer.

On the ride home, your stash feels like an enormous pimple on your arse. But you know every bump, every change of direction, and the familiarity comforts you; keeps you grounded. Now the anticipation is really building; you are as taut as the thin layer of unforgiving denim that separates it from the world. Next time. you think to yourself, you should bring a special little tooter that will fit in your cigarette packet, a square of Susan and a lighter, and find yourself a secluded spot to sample the merchandise as soon as possible. But next time is a long way off. For now, it's enough to sit and let out a quiet sigh, thinking of all the times you have made this journey before; and of the times no doubt to come. Soon enough you will pounce with your tooter on the thin plume of vapour; sucking greedily at the aluminium nipple, enveloped in the soft, warm, snug, fleecy blanket of heroin.

Well this is absolutely terrible.
 
That was brilliant, Sprouty. Illustrating the dark, demonic nature of drugs.

I'd prefer it if it were about a natural opiate like heroin though. All these divine references about - what is just a synthetic drug, seem a little misplaced.

Heroin isn't a 'natural' opiate either. It's derived from morphine but doesn't exist in nature.
 
^ No problems. I'll produce a much better piece of writing about heroin tommorow sometime. (No time tonight)

Heroin isn't a 'natural' opiate either. It's derived from morphine but doesn't exist in nature.

Well, it is at least synthesized from the natural shit. Unlike Fentanyl, which is entirely synthetic.
 
Erm, I really don't think it necessary to get into a competition, 'cause the whole idea of being "smackier-than-thou" seems stupid.
Every piece I write about drugs is a stream of consciousness, they are never edited, and that is a conscious choice given the beauty lies in having the impetus to form tangible words and sentences from such an intangible concept as psychological addiction.

:\ <3
 
Brilliant stuff guys! Here's one for Lucy... I wrote a lot of it during a trip and then came back for revision after further reflection. It's supposed to be somewhat hysterical, but convey liveliness! I also experiment with form in this poem a lot.


“alone to Alone”


“Life is the flight from the alone to the Alone” - Plotinus

I, in full flight
from alone to Alone
and then
so swiftly–
right
‘round.
Back again?


Aloneness.
No,

more!
I feel— I look— I act like a mess,
But...

Fuck!
I am alive,
and again and at last,
I feel.


I, a something
in the nothing
of a moment, dance.
“It is as it should be,"
I heard it say to me,
in the pouring torrents of
Atonement’s rain:

Crying clouds
over dry, cheeked earth.


I felt
and sometimes still feel
in my self
a dying grace.
I felt
and sometimes still feel
like a child:
awake, aware, out of my mind and
in oneness, somewhere.

Now, who is the I seeing the me
when I, Alone Am It,

and it: me?
 
Last edited:
* sits on her hands and waits for Raasy to write something better *​

Problem is, Julie. There is no technique in your writing. No rhymes, no alliteration, no onomatopoeia etc etc

If you look at this masterpiece:

Evey said:
The Bus

On the bus,
There is the usual fuss
On come the prams,
the OAPs, looking like dear little lambs

At the front is the bus driver, sometimes with a miserable face,
On he drives; gracefully or often in such a bloody disgrace,
Everyone, they sit there,
Some moan, some groan, some simply do not care,

Most people sit, some feeling grand,
Others too late, they must simply stand
Riding along on the bus, hearing its familiar roar
Knowing it won't be the last time, I'll be on this once more

Evey 11/06/2014

You can see the implementation of structural writing techniques such as varied stanzas, verses and clever rhyming. And of course, the great allegorical exertion... that the bus of course, resembling our journey of life <3

"Riding along on the bus, hearing its familiar roar
Knowing it won't be the last time, I'll be on this once more"


<3



Anyways I'm getting on with my better piece of writing, won't be long now.
 
Problem is, Julie. There is no technique in your writing. No rhymes, no alliteration, no onomatopoeia etc etc

If you look at this masterpiece:



You can see the implementation of structural writing techniques such as varied stanzas, verses and clever rhyming. And of course, the great allegorical exertion... that the bus of course, resembling our journey of life <3

"Riding along on the bus, hearing its familiar roar
Knowing it won't be the last time, I'll be on this once more"


<3



Anyways I'm getting on with my better piece of writing, won't be long now.

lol i seriously can't tell if trolling or not
 
Well, if Raas didn't like that that I brought back up, he definitely won't like this:

The gig had been fantastic. For the best part of two hours the T.M.s had belted out one after another of their classics -- even the singles that made the "big" charts and got their memorable appearance in a teenage lifestyle magazine, where they had taken huge advantage of the naïveté of the interviewer (I had no idea what any of those words meant, was her lame excuse; though she seemed to have learned quickly enough, when she stepped sideways and upwards into an altogether harder-edged publication.) There were a few hundred there in the mosh pit, from teenagers who had just discovered the band to middle-ages who had grown up with them, hitching around the country from one to the next of a succession of gigs in local pubs and one-portaloo nowhere festivals. Drenched with perspiration and high on a cocktail of natural and artificial, herbal and chemical stimulants, euphoriants and psychedelics, legal and otherwise. The critics might have nicknamed the forthcoming album "Martyrs to our Bowels"; but even after 20 years, the South Coast's veteran punk-folk-trip-rockers were still entirely capable of giving it some, thank you Grandad.

Somehow, he had found her, and she had found him. Two lost souls, E-ed up, wandering, alone in the crowd dispersing from the sports hall into the warm Birmingham night. He wanted a light, she wanted a shag. It was an unlikely pairing; but they were both heading for town anyway, cutting through the same back streets; and besides, etiquette demanded that he share the spliff with the one who had provided the light. They took turns to talk and toke, and soon found themselves running parallel to the motorway. Quiet now, except for the occasional police car and late-night traveller. By the time they reached the roundabout with the steam engine, the joint was long out, and they were deep in meaningless conversation.

- I need more drugs. A flat statement of fact.
- I've got more drugs. The come-on.
- Are you offering? The all-in.
- I'm offering.

She stopped in her tracks; taken by surprise, he stopped too, and she spun him round and kissed him. O.K., Brain, said his dick, I'm doing the thinking now. So you just shut up awhile and let me get on with it, alright?

They continued through the streets, chatting nonsense, until they reached her house .....

TO BE CONTINUED .....
 
Here's a song wot I writ when I was 18 and recovering from hepatitis. It's called 'Heppy Blues'...

"I woke up this mornin', and ah was feelin' pretty strange,
I woke up this mornin', man ah was feelin' kinda strange,
Well I looked in the mirror, and my colour had changed.

I went into the bathroom, coz ah needed to piss,
I went into the bathroom, and I started to piss,
And I said to myself, man it shouldn't be as dark as this.

Mah shit was white,
Mah skin was yellow,
All in all I was feelin' kinda mellow,
Oh lord, ah hope ah dun me no harm,
Maybe ah shouldn'ta stuck that, needle in mah arm.

I went down to the doctors, and I peed in a jar,
I went down to the doctors, and I peed in a jar,
He said son you done been fixin'
But I ain't gonna tell ya ma.

Oh I got those heppy blues,
Man I got dem ol' heppy blues,
An' I'm feelin' too shagged,
To put on mah highway shoes.

Now I can't drink beer till the end of may,
Can't take speed or LSD,
So I got me a bag of that ol' Afghani skag,
And I had me a chase, and threw up all over the place.

Now I got those heppy blues,
I got them ol' heppy blues,
And I'm feelin' too skagged, to put on my highway shoes.

Diddly diddley diddley dee, da da dum!'
 
Top