a-centipedes-rambling

[a-centipedes-rambling]

wrote a kinda shitty draft of a neato interaction between a couple of my characters and uhhh here it is (wow amazing i write prose too apparently)

It’d been a long day; Cen busy working at the inn in town, Cedar busy trying to find a job himself. The sun set low over the horizon, streaks of vibrant red and purple painted on the sky. The pair sat side by side, Cen leaning into Cedar, Cedar’s arm wrapped around them, the fabric of the bedroll bunched up under the two.

“Cedar?”

“Yeah?”

“I- I need to talk to you—ahh, that sounds like I’m going to say something bad,” they laughed, a show of nerves. “I just- I feel like there’s something, uhh, something you should know.”

“Are you alright?” Cedar asked, his voice deep and soft and full of concern.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so. God, maybe, maybe on second thought I shouldn’t—“

“It’s okay. You can tell me,” he cut in.

Cen took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “I- before I say anything. I’d never hurt you. Ever. I promise.”

“Okay. I trust you.” Though, despite his words, his brow furrowed a minuscule amount—a micro expression, barely readable, worry at what Cen would say next.

“I have... a condition.” They swallowed, then continued on, barely giving any pause. “I don’t know if you’ve seen my teeth. I hide them. Most of the time. But- but that’s- I’m a vampire,” they blurted out, relief at finally saying it quickly being overshadowed by pure, relentless anxiety over what Cedar’s reaction would be.

Cedar stayed silent for a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, for both of them.

“Thank you for telling me,” was all he said, quiet, barely audible. And he pulled a tearfully relieved Cen into a tight hug.

#wording is kinda bad at some parts ik #but i banged it out in like 20 minutes #and it’s a draft soooooooo #creative writing #fiction #writers on tumblr #ocs #my ocs #(do nut steel) #trying to get more comfortable with creating even if it isn’t perfect #you can’t get good at writing by never writing out of fear of it being cringe yknow

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new username! used to be alexmorelikeredacted

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the experience of writing something, posting it, and then having people comment about their favorite parts through their eyes is just. such an incredible experience. it’s like getting to re-read your own writing again for the first time and it always gives me such a giddy feeling when people pick up on things i don’t realize i’m putting out. 

[a-centipedes-rambling]

people tell me i’m nice

i never really believe it

dad said i’m a good person

and i’ve come so far

i think i’ll start believing it

#poem #poetry #spilled ink

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i want to write

hitting a brick wall

i can feel the words stopped up

like they’re behind a dam

#poetry #poem #spilled ink #writers block is fun

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ivory carapace

fangs

legs

so many legs

“another fleshbag. i’ll have fun with you.”

a laugh like shards of broken glass

crackling, breaking,

so sharp

and you run

#spilled ink #poem #poetry #horror poetry #horror #? #meh edgy

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i’m alone with my heartbeat

vision fuzzy going out of focus

do you remember late august

i’m sorry

i’ll blame it on myself

#spilled ink #poetry #poem #meh edgy #side note this isn’t venting abt anything serious

[a-centipedes-rambling]

Morning

A Chasing Demons excerpt.

I wrote something yesterday that is too relatable not to share, even from my hiatus (sorry, self.)

It’s normal to be grumpy after waking up. But what if you’ve never even needed sleep before?

***

A noise drilled into my brain, brutal and relentless. I didn’t know where I was. I couldn’t see. All I knew was that I had to stop this. Belle. Where was Belle?

Aimlessly I reached into the darkness, only to be rewarded with a searing pain in my chest. I cried out in agony. Somehow it was this, the sound of my own cry, that yanked me back into reality.

Sleep. I had been sleeping. For the first time in years. The noise wasn’t some vile instrument of torture, it was my own alarm, set by myself. My head was throbbing, my mouth dry, and a foul taste lingered on my tongue. I felt like a broken doll, stiff, limp and hurting.

It took all of my willpower to force myself into an upright position against the ache in my back. Still, I couldn’t suppress a pathetic groan.

How could people do this?

I felt the opposite of rested. I needed to sleep for weeks, I needed to knock myself out, to drift out of existence, to - No. 

I needed to get up, get to work and find out what had happened to Belle.

I can’t even recall how I found my way to the bathroom, to drink from the tap and splash cold water into my face until I trusted myself enough to keep my eyes open.

So that was it. Day 1. The first day of the miserable rest of my life.

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WORDS TO USE INSTEAD OF: SHOCKED

Aghast

Amazed

Appalled

Astonished

Astounded

Dismayed

Dumbfounded

Lost for words

Flabbergasted

Outraged

Staggered

Stunned

Speechless

Scandalized

Taken aback

#helpful posts

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Unreal, I

Adamant, I – recalcitrant, perhaps, Cling to these ethereal realms of dreams Where truths effloresce as aeons elapse, Yet nothing remains the way that it seems.

I’ve seen a myriad of colours flow To unimaginable directions Without sources, nor destinations, no – Yet its waves lit up in soul connections.

It is an apparent chaos to behold Where ev’ry spark could signify purpose; Each flare a fable longing to be told So impermanence cannot usurp us.

Without a soul’s realm I could ne'er survive,          Solely as unreal do I feel alive.

— 19-9-2020, M.A. Tempels © “… a Shakespearean sonnet.”

[a-centipedes-rambling]

been on a j-core kick recently. anyway listen to 1000 over!!!

#superluminal and depressed mind are my favorite tracks #most extratone makes me veg out and this album is no exception #depressed mind is fkn awesome #just. idk how to explain it #superluminal just hits different though #i wanna MOVE when i listen to it #anyway the whole album is phenomenal #not writing #thoughts #extratone #speedcore #jcore #j-core #music

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is horror poetry a thing?

if it isn’t, i’ll make it one

#thoughts

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it is all magic

he, the doctor,  put his glasses on, looked down at his notes he had been writing, cleared his throat then said, “you say, you’ve done everything you want to do, met everyone you want to meet, been everywhere you want to go and seen everything you want to see. is that correct?” he took his glasses off and looked directly at the man sitting across from him and waited for a reply.

“peter and wendy were so absolutely right.” offered the man.

then he, the doctor, sighed;  put his glasses back on and began writing again in the folder of notes he had balanced on his lap. “some of your answers to my inquiries seem to be simply random statements and i am not sure if i will be of any help if this is the path you choose,” the doctor professed raising his head and removing his glasses.

“i am still clutching to myself in the  jesus prayer right alongside franny glass,” the man whispered.

the doctor stated “ i thought you are not a religious man. i only mention this from your previous conversations we’ve had you told me so.”

“see more glass,” was all the man said.

the doctor sighed once more and repositioned himself in his chair and put forth  “you are quoting characters from books.  the glass family is a fictitious family from books. might you possibly tell me something from a real person?”

the man directed his eyes around the room gazing at the art work on the walls along with framed certificates made out with the doctor’s name. very slowly he put forth “here is a quote for you doctor, it is very close to the end.”

“who is that a quote from?” asked the doctor.

“that is a quote from me doctor,” countered the man.

the doctor for a few moments just stared at the man then deliberately placed his glasses on, and started again writing in his notes.

“say doctor,” the man inquired, “you want to see some magic?”

without raising his eyes the doctor responded “what sort of magic?”

“i can make something disappear right before your eyes. something like this you have never seen,”  the man whispered still glancing at the framed certificates with the doctor’s name on them there on his wall.

“you’re going to show me here?” inquired the doctor halfheartedly still head down writing, “and this will be some sort of magic?”

“ it is all magic, doctor,” the man replied as he leaned over reached into his black attaché case there at his feet, pulled out a small caliber handgun placing it to his temple staring at the good doctor, then squeezed the trigger.

the doctor, startled, immediately looked up glasses flying off his face and almost fell out of his chair. saw the man in front of him slumped over on his side; then glanced up at the red covering his art, the certificates on his walls.

#death tw #suicide tw

[a-centipedes-rambling]

The Fall of Our Evil Colossus

Summer’s wounds are splayed out in red

As the lost ones murmur

Of their lives extinguished

By the rising tide

/

For their sin

Of breathing in this murderous era

Among tearful siblings

Stuck, in awe of the storm

/

Autumn is a predator,

A cruel and watchful beast

Filled with piercing wails

And sweet visions of years past

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if i didn’t do things impulsively, i’d do a lot fewer things

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ik i’m not great @ writing but i like doing it

if u don’t like what i write u don’t have to read it