Hi!

I’m actually in a block right now but I have questions

if you’ve read my works, what type of writer do I seem like?

idk why something is ringing depressed writer in my head

And do you feel idea of stories should be made here?

like “oh I saw this butterfly today & it reminded me of summer” & you share it for 24 hours because it’s pretty

I was bored at home

Because I was alone at home

Not that I didn’t crave it though, because I did

Oh, I craved it a lot

I decided to paint

A cat? or an elephant? a felon? or maybe a heron?

I have an idea

But when I did paint?

Without a knowledge of what I was doing with my eyes closed shut

When I opened them, I figured what appeared was a void

Looking much like my soul.

Some of my works are actually…... written on the spot

Crazy

I just write here on prose without even looking for an inspiration

It scares me sometimes but it’s nice some other times

Because I see a like & I end up smiling the whole day

I hope what I’m saying is not crazy talk though

Love

The simplest of emotions but hardest of them all

I could love you and not care

Right?

Or I could care for you but not love you

Sounds better

I tuck my emotions deep in my mind wanting to be free

Not caring at all

Because love as I thought has showed me only despair

But what happens when a stranger rids my love struck heart of it’s chains

I didn’t ask for it

I wanted to be alone

I wanted to be free

But with him near, I can’t

I want to bare my demons to him

But I’m afraid

Afraid that he might toss me out without sparing me a glance

Afraid that he wouldn’t hold me And tell me my demons don’t matter

It’s not about me though

What if I toss him out when he shows me his demons?

I bet they’re as beautiful as he is

And I can’t risk my emotions

My feelings

I can’t risk my morals

But with him, it’s like my morals cease to exist

Love I may not know

But men, I do know

And I haven’t had my full

Until him

My whole world revolves around him

My downfall

My anchor

My religion

Putting me in obsession

Unhealthy

Making me,

A fallible god

You may think I’m writing this to express my love

maybe

maybe not

I’m actually not

Experiences differ

But I do not wish for such experiences with men

I do not want to experience the bad

“They scare me”

I’ll always say

So much to the extent, it shatters my heart

Making me fear the outcomes of stepping out of my comfort

My home

I’m terrified

I really am

That I am to blame when I shouldn’t

That nobody takes my side when I needed it

That everyone turns a blind eye when I cry for help

I seek help but the help I sought, was tainted with bad reason

Don’t expect me to give you a Pat on the back because you were nice

Isn’t that the basic necessity of life?

They silently watch me

Like a predator

They look at me, like a prey

Doing nothing but suddenly, I’m their new Interest

I hate it

I hate it here

They all scare me.

Vera looked over the side of her arm as she spotted a familiar cat leaning by the side of the traffic light

Knowing what to do, she thought

She ran towards it, in hopes of accomplishing a small pat on the head

Almost reaching her goal, it ran into an incoming car

Strained with another goal, Vera ran to save it

But now, she needed to save both herself and the cute kitty

But before she did, a hand reached forward, hooked her by the collar and drew her away from the scene

Not only was she saved, but the cat lost a leg and an eye

This incident put everybody around in a stop motion as she wailed externally for the pain of the little creature

Looking at her temporary savior’s face

She cursed him

Probably hated him for not allowing her achieve her goal

But she hated herself more

Because she was unable to leap out of the stranger’s hold and save the furry creature

She also hated the fact that she wasn’t the one who was crushed by the vehicle

But internally relished she was in tact and no scratches

She was a hypocrite

She actually hated cats

Maybe she did all that because the person who saved her, was the person she was lovingly obsessed with for years

She was devastated externally

But out of her mind and more crazy for her pretty savior internally

The day I found a weathered journal in the attic, its cracked leather and yellowed pages revealed a 1923 entry about uncovering a hidden truth. Inside were sketches, symbols, and a faded town map marked with an X beneath the old clock tower. Remembering a childhood story of a secret room there, I felt a strong urge to uncover the long-buried mystery.

A random Friday night featuring a lonely boy

No?

What I meant to say is, I’m that lonely boy

Scared

Abandoned

Deprived

I was barely 17 when I decided that I needed to up my game

And by doing that, I had to give up my morals

Scary, is it not?

But what happens when I’m materialized & deprived of what I did in order to give up?