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    Anything goes writing submission 
    #1
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    neversickanymore's Avatar
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    Hey.. do you write? Please submit some of your work. Guidelines None! so absolute free form. Only quality comments please.
    Last edited by neversickanymore; 08-11-2018 at 12:06.
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    #2
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    Johnny and the Cupcake Girl

    He woke up to the birds chirping above the loft. Free to fly, his feathered friends frolicked to and fro. Johnny, on the other hand, was stuck in a vicious cycle. He got up from bed, hopped in the shower, and dried himself off in the same mechanical way he always does. Going through the motions in a black and white world.

    Coffee and cigarettes - the same bitter taste he looks forward to every morning. But today.. Today was different. Today Johnny was looking for something sweet. Logging this notion in the back of his mind, he speedily jumped into the range rover, blasted out of the driveway, and hauled his ass to the highway. Speed.. it made him feel alive. A break from the monotony; Some color to paint the blank canvas that is his life.

    As he arrived at the shop, he couldn't fight the feeling that there was something different about the place. A spark that was never there before. As he approaches the desk, he sees the being responsible for his initial intuition. Her name was Priscilla, and she smelled just how she looked.

    Cupcakes. If it wasn't the aroma of freshly baked cupcakes that took Johnny in, it was the one holding them. As they held eye contact, she felt as if something jumped into her soul. Something will good intentions, but a bit off it's fucking rocker. She became scrambled, and frantically looked away as if she had been torn open. Johnny, on the other hand, felt a warmth that he had never felt before. A warmth so strong, that it colored his world, temporarily. Once Priscilla broke eye contact, Johnny felt the cold sweep back over him. As if to apologize for creating discomfort, Johnny introduces himself.

    They both know what they're about to step into. They are familiar with the initial electricity between the two utterly different beings. Priscilla had always been a wondering ghost; a heart looking for a beat on a winding path. Looking for someone to show her the way, no matter the risk associated. She would bring her guide happiness; she would light his candle in the dark so he could see the path. And that's how she got her way around.

    On the other hand, Johnny looks for a light on this dark course. He can push through and logically find the direction, but needs a bit of spark in order to give it meaning. Without meaning, his course just becomes a walkway for the weak. In circles he would go, bumping into barriers, bushes and billboards. Breaking his brooding body bluntly by the bay.

    It was a dance that was mutually beneficial, but ultimately toxic. As the two beings would never know what it's like to experience life as the other, yet they so desperately try to climb into each other's world. As scary as it may be for Priscilla to enter the void, or for Johnny to connect with things that he typically pushes away, they needed each other to walk that winding road. With Priscilla's light, and Johnny's guidance, the two of them would make it through this cruel world. But the ultimate collision of two so different personalities created a barrier between their hearts, and they knew it just wasn't right. Too much effort for Priscilla to hold the light, and too much light for Johnny's dilated pupils. So that's how it ends.

    And the cupcake girl smelled just like she looked.
    Last edited by madness00; 09-11-2018 at 01:36.
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    #3
    DESOLATION


    Desolation winds its way down rainy smoky midnight alleyways
    in search of some lost and broken soul who can appreciate its fatal beauty
    Someone drops their only nickel and curses through the tears
    as it rolls away in slow-motion and lands in a death-infested gutter on the side of the road...

    Desolation perches on the windowsill of an old run-down apartment building
    where rats and roaches outnumber the tenants by hundreds
    It sings a haunting dirge like that of a dying bird
    about to descend on one final downward flight...

    Desolation is your only companion when you're staring at the ceiling for the third night in a row
    with thoughts of terror filling every crevice of your badly bruised and broken brain
    threatening to shatter your skull into countless fragments
    of anger, fear, regret, sadness, guilt, depression, panic and unrelenting misery...

    Desolation is with me tonight.


    Dreamflyer, 11-8-2018
    Last edited by dreamflyer; 12-11-2018 at 02:25. Reason: Revised 11/11/2018
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    #4
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    Nov. 19th

    Anger subsides as limbo ensues; transitions from negative emotionality to nothingness, as the rain comes steadily down in the city that never sleeps. Heavens gift to mother nature becomes an inconvenience to humans, but the realization that nothing really matters.. nothing really matters until November 19th.

    Killing time is an art, and a science to Johnny who has been creating incisions in the days time for the past year. Every day, 8 hours on hand, where weary walks, soundless smoke, and enticing electronics consume the life of one lost soul. Reading is a thing of the past, as the stories no longer provide relief. The stories don't compare to the life experiences Johnny has recently been accompanied by. The experiences he chases.. chasing Novermber 19th.

    6 days feels like 6 years; 6 hours like a whole day. The numbers of Satan haunt him while the seconds slowly pass. No money for lunch, no money for coffee, the usual handouts and hand-me-downs acquired by the lifeless member of today's society. Wearily walking.. wearily walking.. to November 19th.

    Everything is grey. There is nothing that tastes like what tastes on November 19th. Satan's work, but Johnny's soul has been sold. The days in between could be killed for all he cares. Any experiences he has, people he met, ideas that he concocts - lost in time. The feeling of limbo and meaningless days is a strain on the heart that already pumps too slow. No one to share his discouragement with. No one to tell him it will be okay. Just a nagging mind.. November 19th.

    The rain never ends. The days never close. One day more is not even a feat, it just adds to yesterday's pain, and today's sorrow. Is it attention deficit, or looming anxiety? Restless legs and a wondering mind, but nowhere to go in the pouring rain. A mind that wonders.. wonders to, fro, and always back, to November 19th.

    How can one do this for a whole year, but only struggle when there is something to look forward to in the near future? Only 6 days.. He can't say it enough. The words wrap around each other, screaming the same exact things.. November 19th.
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