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GLD
"Fiction isn't reality...It's better." - Jack M. Bickham
232 Posts • 215 Followers • 29 Following
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Pen to the Paper 21
Don't plan. Just write. Whatever the heck you want, I don't care. And, yeah, you can draft it multiple times. Happy Mother's Day, mothers!
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GLD
• 27 reads

Forget

Memories I don't want to remember

But they haunt me, over and over

I said 'goodbye', but you stay

I said 'i don't care', but I do

Why can't I forget?

I told myself I need to meet the deadline

I let it all stay and wait

Time rushed by and now I stand here

Only a few ticking seconds

Anxiety clawing its way around in my heart

I don't remember that traumatic scene

But I live the scar, I carry it

I don't remember the day, but the nightmares

I said I'd meet you, I never did

It's too late now, but I forgot

It's not that it wasn't important

It's just that I forgot, got busy

My attention was distracted, believe me

I regret that all I do is forget

Especially that which I don't want to

All the ugly stays and haunts me

All the pain, the screams, the scars

The darkness, loneliness, uncertainty

I remember that which broke me

I want to forget and start over

No, I don't...

I just want to learn and move on

Wipe it out and use the pillars

To build a new home

Where joy and love reigns

I want to remember the beauty

I want to extinguish the pain

I want to see the good

I want to wipe out the evil

Sometimes, I want to forget

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Challenge
Waves
Keep it clean :)
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GLD
• 37 reads

Waved By

The waves waved at me

From far across the horizon

Like the cheers of fans

Still stashed in the back of my mind

I heard the seagulls' cries

Piercing the sunset skies

Like the agonizing screams

Hidden away inside of me

Everything that used to be

My childhood on the beach

Writing songs under a tree

My success on a bright stage

Mom's pancakes in summer

Dad's jokes and stories in winter

Kelsi's sweet smiles and friendship

They are all long gone

I finally left sight of the last beach

Turned into the final street

That dearly beloved house all gone

Like the years that passed by

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Challenge
Dialogue
Keep it clean.
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GLD
• 36 reads

Late Call

Hi, Mom, sorry to bother

I've been thinking about you

Been thinking of what you said

Back when I left home

Jumped into my car

And raced down the lane

Surprise, surprise...

I know that I'm your prodigal daughter

I know that I was wrong

You were right, no surprise

You don't have to take me back

Just forgive me and...maybe

Say you love me

Angel...

Forgive me, love me

I'm sorry I never called back

I'm sorry I ignored you

I'm sorry it took losing everything

To see what I once had

What I never appreciated

Stop, please, let me speak...

No, let me empty my heart

My memories are driving my crazy

All the things I left unsaid

I lost my man, my girl

You did once

I resented you

It happens sometimes...

I should have understood

I should have been there

I missed Dad and Cara

I missed our times together

I missed family

I overlooked you

Ciara, listen to me...

I was so wrong

Now you are gone

I'm stuck in my internal monologue

Wishing for a dialogue

A conversation with you, once more

The way we used to...

I love you...

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Challenge
Pen to the Paper 19
Write without planning. No restrictions of any kind. Just sit down and write without a plan. Does not have to be the first draft. Have fun!
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GLD
• 25 reads

Lost in Uncreativity

Put pen to paper

Leave this for later

When I feel safer

And ideas flow

I need to think

Pour in a drink

Stare, don't blink

Idea level still low

Put on a song

Wonder what is wrong

Listen to the throng

Of household and home

Come back to me

Ideas all free

How about going to the sea?

Beaches to roam...

Think, think, think

Coffee - drink, drink

Just don't sink

In the ocean of the brain

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Challenge
Pen to the Paper 18
Write without planning. That's it. Just sit down and write. No restrictions. You don't have to use your first draft.
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GLD
• 36 reads

Madness

Feelings numbed

Brain dumbed

By chit-chatters

Plenty mad hatters

And cruel batters

Swinging hard hits

Windows into bits

Just another attack

Innocents in the sack

And souls off-track

Wrongs all right

No one left to fight

No saviours, soldiers, a hero

It all goes to show

Blood in the snow

All good turned bad

All sane became mad

Souls caught in chains

Clinging to horses' manes

Riding through bloody rains

Hopefuls praying for change

Looked upon as strange

As the rest all wane

Losing track of the pain

Giving in to the strain

Madness reigns where evil overtakes

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GLD
• 18 reads

I threw my phone into the wall again. I guess what you expect to happen never does. For example, I expected to win the lottery once in my life. Guess what, that didn’t happen. I expected to be married by now – the guy dumped me two weeks ago.

I’ve thrown my phone at the wall three times this week. It’s still not malfunctioning or broken, only cracked. Bummer. I slammed my hand into the wall two times this week. It hurt (and is slightly sprained now), but nothing long-lasting. It’s not broken, it’s not forever disfigured, and not even once did it just explode open and bleed profusely.

Sometimes, I wish I could change everything and have the life I should have. Problem is, I’ve never really worked for that life. Probably because of what everybody said and thought of me, and because I was happy – happyish – with what I had.

And here I am: twenty-nine, single, alone, in a studio apartment, working for a shitty pay in a crappy job, and wishing for something to grab me and take me away from this bloody life I'm now stuck in, careening towards the end.

I’ve tried to make light of it all. I even wrote a poem yesterday (thankfully, I’m ambidextrous, so I’m not really missing my right hand). It went something like:

Slammed my hand into the wall

Tried to brave the stairs in a fall

Now the one is sprained

And the other is pained

I still feel like shit

Couldn’t laugh at the skit

But now I’ve got to snap out

And open my closet to bury the pout

I saw the ropes, I heard the voice

I realized I have to make my choice

But death is death, the end

What did you do to me, my friend?

My English teacher should be proud – at least I found rhymes for it. No free-verse, but actual poetry. It didn’t make me feel much better, but I could toast a glass of Merlot over it.

Why Merlot? I’ve always hated the taste – I’ve never liked wine, but Merlot is the worst. My opinion – don’t blame me, I supposedly have bad taste.

So yes, I’m torturing myself. The only thing that felt like real pain was cutting strange symbols on my legs. I felt less proud of it when I had to wear ankle-length jeans when my big sister came to visit. In this sweltering heat.

I actually cursed myself for being an idiot. I think.

I’ve always been a happy girl. Obsessively manic-happy. I would sing and dance, no matter what the heck people thought of me. I loved fully, trusted wholly, and cared deeply. I never forgot a birthday, never missed out on buying gifts, and never missed a party of one of the family or friends.

I also never really hurt myself, because good luck was on my side. Except for the time the bowl of punch slipped out of my hands and smashed into pieces on my feet. Or the time my cousin slammed the car door shut on my hand. But, hey, accidents happen.

Sudden depression and gloom is not an accident, though. I’ve been poring over horrors and thrillers these days. I can’t stand the soppy romances and the light-hearted comics. Shoot, I don’t even know why I ever read them before.

The world is darker than I ever thought of it. Friends are fake, family members are obsessive and intrusive, and boyfriends are only out for the big prize and scoff if you are acting like a prude.

I’m not paranoid. I was just blind for most of my life. Blind to my father’s cheating, to my mother’s drinking habit, to my brother’s drug addiction, to my sister’s choice of wrong men, to my older sister’s obsession with perfection, and to every other flaw and mistake of every friend and family member.

I always knew I was flawed. I could drink too much, laugh too loudly, have no clue what humiliation is, and just be myself when I should have been the more discreet version.

Now I’m living the life where I truly see…what I never wanted to see. And the truth is, for the first time in my life I’m actually afraid and simultaneously confident in the face of danger.

I’m looking forward to the moment he breaks through the door, and yet I’m not ready to feel his hands around my throat.

This is what happens when you allow a psychopath to become your friend. This is what happens when you aren’t prudent and thinking smart. This is what happens when demons are able to grab what you have.

What is the solution? Hell, I haven’t been able to figure it out…I can choose Death or Death: at the hands of the killer or my own. Be strangled or hang yourself (personally, I’d prefer the cutting myself to pieces and watching the blood spurt out).

I haven’t decided what I’m more afraid of. Only decided that I want to go back and change it all. But, there’s no going back, only going forward, towards the climactic end. The climactic end, and complete and utter insanity.

So, this is the final countdown, I suppose.

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GLD
• 63 reads

I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. I wanted to work on this collaboration project, but I can't anymore. I'm not strong or focused enough to do this. I'm really sorry...But I can't do this anymore.

I'm from here on out until past April not going to be here on Prose. I might never come back (except to read one person's work, who I cannot abandon for the life of me, despite all my own troubles).

I've loved meeting you all and reading your work. You are talented writers. Keep it up!

I'm going to miss Pen to the Papers, Caleb, and I'm going to miss all your beautiful works of art, Sanjana. Keep it up!

Anybody who wants to continue the group collab can pick it up. This is no longer my concern. Nightscribbler was going to edit, and she still might. I'm sure that if the project continues, you all will figure it out. We are not a bunch of incompetents here on Prose; I hope.

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GLD
• 57 reads

Think Tank (2)

Happy New Year, Everybody!

Only one more chapter is left open, though either Finder or Sanjana_S might later be interested in taking it.

01/05: Chapter 6 – Sanjana_S

01/12: Chapter 7 – EstherFlowers1

01/19: Chapter 8 – Chacko_Stephen

01/26: Chapter 9 – WhiteWolfe32

02/02: Chapter 10 – Finder

02/09: Chapter 11 – GLD

02/23: Chapter 12– CalebPinnow

03/02: Chapter 13 – Chacko_Stephen

03/09: Chapter 14 – Finder

03/23: Chapter 15– WhiteWolfe32

03/30: Chapter 16– CalebPinnow

04/06: Chapter 17 – Roses311Sublime

04/13: Chapter 18– GLD

04/20: Chapter 19 – Chacko_Stephen

04/27: Chapter 20 – CalebPinnow

If any of you are unable to continue with the project, or need to be moved around in the writing schedule, please let me know pronto.

As a reminder of who our characters are (taken from the prologue):

"Dale Caruthers is the onboard mechanic and all around Mr. Fix-it, inside or outside the ship. Strapping man, nearing forty, played college football at Ohio State as a tackle and still in good enough shape that he could knock you down in a heartbeat and never break a sweat."

"Jules Verone, a mild person with a penchant for archeology. Short, a bit on the heavy side, but rarely speaks unless spoken to, or has an interesting find."

"Brad Marconi, navigator and this is his eighth trip into space but the first, like Clint and the others, to have gone as far as they have. As Brad put it, “Virgin territory.” This is also Brad’s last sojourn as he plans to retire from NASA when he returns home. That is, if there still is a NASA."

"Margo Jessup. Teacher, archeologist, recorder. Divorced, late thirties, and at one time for a few years a professional wrestler if you can believe that one since she’s barely 5’4” and a hundred twenty on a rainy day. Jet black hair and deep set eyes though give her the appearance she could put you down easy enough—man or woman."

Here is the taglist:

@WhiteWolfe32 @EstherFlowers1 @GLD @Roses311Sublime @CalebPinnow @Chacko_Stephen @nightscribbler @Finder @Sanjana_S

Prologue, by Danceinsilence: https://theprose.com/post/448127/the-premiere-earthbound-2222-ad

Chapter 1, by WhiteWolfe32, While They Were Gone: https://theprose.com/post/449088#comment750232

Chapter 2, by EstherFlowers1, Seeing is Believing: https://theprose.com/post/449846#comment750826

Chapter 3, by Danceinsilence, Secrets Laid Wide Open: https://theprose.com/post/450772/chapter-three-secrets-laid-wide-open

Chapter 4, by GLD, Purpose: https://theprose.com/post/451818

Chapter 5, by Roses311Sublime, Plans: https://theprose.com/post/452673#comment753278

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Challenge
Villain or Hero?
In no less than 200 words describe if you are the hero of your story of the villain.
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GLD
• 21 reads

The AntiHERO

I believe the accurate title for me would be antihero.

Merriam-Webster puts it as: "a protagonist or notable figure who is conspicuously lacking in heroic qualities" (most encouraging, isn't it?)

Reedsy mentions: "While their actions are ultimately noble, they don’t always act for the right reasons."

Upon further research (thank you, Reedsy), I've discovered there are up to (if not more) five types of anti-heroes. Personally, I consider myself the Pragmatic Anti-Hero.

The Pragmatic Anti-Hero is "self-centered to a degree and reluctant to accept the role of hero." Other than that, he/she is willing to jump into action more quickly when observing any wrongdoings, BUT will wade into not-so-honourable zones if they wish to bring their own goals to completion.

Now, there is nothing wrong with my reading skills: we are talking about the hero or villain of the story, not the anti-heroes and anti-villains. Allow me to point out, then, that the antihero is the hero of his story, even though his actions and morality might be suspicious and concerning (and even though readers might not love or like him).

Turns out that Sherlock Holmes himself (they mention the BBC modernization of him, but I believe other versions as well) is an anti-hero. Truly, you must read the Reedsy article yourself and then scroll down to the examples; I was fascinated (to some degree).

Works Cited:

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/antihero

https://blog.reedsy.com/anti-hero/

Enjoy!

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GLD
• 78 reads

Think Tank

Apologies, I intended to write and post this last week, not today.

I haven’t made any changes to this, so far, and since I have no clue what else there is to say, this will be brief.

Currently, I have two spots open here, but I’m making a plan to have them filled again soon. They can stay open until next year, I’d say.

12/15: Chapter 5 – Roses311Sublime

01/05: Chapter 6 – GLD

01/12: Chapter 7 – Chacko_Stephen

01/19: Chapter 8– EstherFlowers1

01/26: Chapter 9 – WhiteWolfe32

02/02: Chapter 10 – Finder

02/09: Chapter 11 – GLD

02/23: Chapter 12– CalebPinnow

03/02: Chapter 13 – Chacko_Stephen

03/09: Chapter 14 – OPEN

03/23: Chapter 15– WhiteWolfe32

03/30: Chapter 16– CalebPinnow

04/06: Chapter 17 – Roses311Sublime

04/13: Chapter 18– GLD

04/20: Chapter 19 – Chacko_Stephen

04/27: Chapter 20 – CalebPinnow

If any of you are unable to continue with the project, or need to be moved around in the writing schedule, please let me know pronto.

Here is the taglist:

@WhiteWolfe32 @EstherFlowers1 @GLD @Roses311Sublime @CalebPinnow @Chacko_Stephen @nightscribbler @Finder

Prologue, by Danceinsilence: https://theprose.com/post/448127/the-premiere-earthbound-2222-ad

Chapter 1, by WhiteWolfe32, While They Were Gone: https://theprose.com/post/449088#comment750232

Chapter 2, by EstherFlowers1, Seeing is Believing: https://theprose.com/post/449846#comment750826

Chapter 3, by Danceinsilence, Secrets Laid Wide Open: https://theprose.com/post/450772/chapter-three-secrets-laid-wide-open

Chapter 4, by GLD, Purpose: https://theprose.com/post/451818

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