justasmallblipintheuniverse

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

NaNo 2015

happy nano everyone! 

starting 2 days late but ill be okay updates about nano will be on my writing blog 

My nano account: http://nanowrimo.org/participants/marco-meme

#nano2015 #nanowrimo #pls join me

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

CAMP NANO 2015

Camp Nano is about to begin!

if ur doing Camp Nano hmu i want sprinting buddies also http://campnanowrimo.org/campers/marco-meme

#camp nano 2015 #words

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

delete later

the 'ive been in a oil paint fume and mold filled room all day and im very dissapointed it didnt kill me yet' poem im trying to kill my dead name but it just wont die, every day it's spit in my face and i cant remember why i even try? i cringe at the sight of my reflection i want to dissappear, but theres no use knowing hell is here, and god damn it's an extra lifetime fee when ur queer, all that's left of me is hatred and fear oh dear oh dear, oh dear mom and dad dear world i want to forget this isnt a goodbye note but its a poem about disgrace, its about me and thats all ill ever be, i dont ever want to show my face, the lines are staggering and stanzas spayed, id finish this fucking song but ill never stay.

#words #fuck idek why im posting this is stupid #poetry #my writing #disphoria and paranoia are killing me

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

A poem that rhymes, every line, except for the last ones probably.

6 / 4 / 15

Hello from the Illinois state line, i didn't ask for you time or a single dime, but hey id sure love either,

wow out as i watch my brother fall through that fragile line, its not much to adore but its something of a faded like an old frosted pine, not that that just ties in to rhyme, but hey, i try my best

forget those sooty reef settling bastards, i want real people, not you everyday borderline mustards? those yellow washed up sour pricks yknow?

ill blast this damn music in my ears mom, i don't care if you can hear, it helps me stay what you could call ‘calm’ but thats not quite as clear, not nearly as that of unhelpful, and simply just dulling out the sound of my alter-ego but hey, i fucking try.

my dad talks on the phone for hours with people i really don't know something id call “i wanted pizza but then this crap had to show” its a pity i cant send my dismal chords into the streets through those dismal power wires but hey, who really knows.

I had a friend once, maybe, there was a story behind this but now I just see repetitive lyrics not that i played any game just to see a level, and clear it but you really gotta listen, i tried.

when i say i tried i really mean i probably sat on my couch for hours not really doing anything but then when it was to late i realized i don't mean anything in this preposterous fling

its more of a novel to tell than a story to boast, but hey why?

why, why, why did i even try to circumcised the enterprise demeaning and deprived of the wise, when i only scoped out dictionary and thesauruses for the beat right words for my own demise, i laugh at my own vacancy and my expressionless face when i stare into the abyss but hey, i really never tried

perhaps there was the one time when I decided the stars had aligned and i was right in the world, but howdy-freakin-ho look how that instant turned around into the retrospective of a hell uncurled, id stop ten years ago if i’d known how it would end, but hey, i still don't know.

#poetry #my poetry #my writing #idk #piss off world #i learned more about surrealism and suprematist art and thats fucking cool #and starting to think about camp nano but illl probably end up flaking on nano like always lmao #do you ever see people and are like 'yo they'd be cool to know' but then u never talk to them and they remain mysterious cool people #lmao

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

Over the Crab’Oh Nest

(get it like Over the Cuckoo’s Nest lmaooooo)

Over the Crab’oh nest crabbe - goyle

Chapter 1 It was a long, hot summer afternoon, and Crabbe knew exactly how to spend it. He had taken a while to get used to this new world, one where, he unknowingly was different. This short boy, age of 16, was getting ready to pack for his trip back to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was also excited to see his best friend, Goyle, whom he hadn’t seen for the whole entire summer due to Goyle being on a trip to the south-east north pole. During the summer he spent away from his best friend, he had tried to meet another friend, his name was Cedric Digory. Crabb spent so much time with him over the summer, and quickly developed feeling for the young man. But then, the evil lord Voldestraight came and killed him. Crabbe was forced back into the straight supremacy and became a gay eater. The trip back to Howards was deathly and silent. Everything had fallen to Voldestraight. It was to late, and now no one could be who they truly were if they were a gay. Goyle looked very buoyant in his new robes, and Crabbe tried to stray his eyes from his lank body. He couldn't do it, he couldn't resist. Chapter 2 It was October. Goyle dressed as a ghost, and Crabbe, too. They roamed the halls of the castle scaring first years and hexing Grifindors for their candy. They even scared Peeves. Crabbe secretly wanted to tell Goyele how he felt. But he was thwarted when they ran into Draco. Chapter 3 Christmas was days away. There was a small package under the tree for Crabbe, and being a bitch-ass Slythrin he took it before Christmas day, as he and Goyllele did together. They sat up in their secret lair, in the forbined forst. “Open it, Crabbe” Goyle gestured. And he did, fast at first, until he recognized the wrapping style. It…… was from Goyle!! “dude wtf man, this from u?” he sed. “nah wtf u talk abt bro..” But it WAS from him…. “but what it it.??????” it was a small rectangular prism. Chapter 4 Crabbe slowly unwrapped it, the box opened, and inside was a velvety cloth wrapped over something. Crabs heart was beating like 700 km per hour. Chapter 5 GOyle was veru anvtious abiut crabbe, he was acting so stramgwe and it really worried him. CHApter 5,2 “what the fuck is he doing, what does he think is in there????????””””””” Crab Goyle thought to himself

CHAPTER 666 inside the wrapping was a very hard object, Crabbs hand was pulsing with blood, and a spherical of sweat dripped down his back. it was…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..…………………………………..………………………………….. a hand crafted drinking glass.

CHAPTER 7??????????? “ i made it specially for you. I know how much you like small hard object that are easily held in ur hand” Goyle smiled.

Crab just sat there. “wtf man… I….” He studderd his speech” “ Do…. you not like it??????????????” “No.. i … I love it! thank you man” “Crabbe…” goyle was shy.. “Goyle//“” “I….” “just say it bro..” he was ready to finally hear it. “I.. need to…” He moved a little and his hand moved to the branch next to Crabbe.” “ I gotta…………………..Pee.” He jumped down from the tree. CHAPTER 808 Crabbe thought that was going to go somewhere else, his face felt hot. and he was sorta pissed at Goyle rn. But then he looked down the tree at the other boy. He watched him walk away like a prideful lion. Chapter “9” Goylye thought to himself about how red faced crab was getting.

chapter 11

Crabbe watched Goyle come back up the tree.e “dude wht tf wrr u doin” “peepe. ok

tha end. the gay loses. Voldestraight always win lmao

#My writing #fanfic #crabbe #goyle #literally punch me in the face #my immortal is ruining my life #harry potter

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

A Wondrous Journey Through Gay Hell and Death : CHAPTER 1

A Wondrous Journey Through Gay Hell and Death by Marco the incredible gay starring: Dombladoor and Moldywart

CHAPTER 1 It was a cold winter day in the wizart world, it was in fact actually september and the begingng of wozart school. It just happens that on this very day, two victims of this hogwats school of which craft? and wozartweewee should happen apon the deathening sickness of… gay. But the victims of this traitorous disease is unknown.

“Attention studonts!” The headmaster called to the curious first years that had just entered the hogwats school grounds. “Today is a very important day, in which you all will be sorted into your houses, based on the decisions that my dear friend, this hat,” he pointed to an old withering hat that laid on a pedestal near him, “will make. Then you may enjoy the blundering feast I have prepared specially for you!” He clapped his hands and the great hall lit up. “Oh boy, it’s almost time.” Thought one first year. “Olbaz Domblrdore.” Stated the imtrumptious hat. The boy jumped noticing his name had been called. He placed himself on the stool and the headmaster put the raggedy hat on Domblrdare’s head. “Hmmm,” said the hat. “I see, I see,” he continued, and then in a very rugged and undertoned voice called out to the whole school around them, “GROVENDOR!” The table with the red and gold fabrics shouted in joy over the new comer into their cultish society of grocerydors. The list filled through the rest of the first years, “SLATHERBIN,” and “HILARYDUFFLEPUFF” and “RAVENSCOCK.” It was unapparent to the young newly envocked first years what exactly they had been chosen into each house for, but time would surely tell. The feast appeared once the last of the children had sat down at the tables at the clap of the headmaster.

The next day everyone was in a bustle over getting to the classes they had, and it was especially hectic for the fresh 1st years. “Mr. Dovelebee please get off that young boy.” Said the head master at some 3rd years who were being particularly rude to a small boy with a blue hand bag. Domblrdoor saw this strange event as he was crossing the courtyard, and thought how strange it was that someone of their size would choose to scuffle with such a small. Over the next few days Doberdorne learned some things about this school. 1. the Slitherbones where bad! 2. yar a wozart dobledor and finally 3. donat go into the forbiden forest. Dobmrldor understood these were the main things he had to worry about. but it soon came to his attention that there was another rule that stood firm in the eyes of the headmaster, and this came to him in the most unkind of way. On day late into the fall term, Dooblemder was sitting under the apple tree in the courtyard reading a spell book on worms tail and icebreakskin, when he saw the purtousious Tomm Dovelebee, the nutorious 3rd year, who was so big compared to a lot of the first and second years, he had big blue and black eyes, that looked like the eyes of storms just before the wind pushes the hurricane foreward, exerting the force of 2,000 elephant in heat, flaming into the sky, thwarting any object that would come in contact. But this was something that Domblrdoor never told anyone after that day. Dovelebee was with a hurd of his nutcracker gang of infants, as the grifondeers called them, (they were bad bad slitherboobs that even some of their own slimy bins didn't like.) Dovelebee called over to Dumbrldoor, “Oi, ya fag!” He said in his archanian accent, “whatcha readin? The Gayly Daily, ey?” He spit out of his oversized mouth. This hit Domblrdoor oddly, he had never heard such flat words before, and didn't know how to decrypt them. “My wot?” He exclaimed. “Wharts a Gay?” Asked DUmblrdwane. “A gay?” Dovelebee chaunted, “Why Dumblafag, it’s you!!” He and the rest of his baboons friends laughed wildly at the poor first year. “Wots this gay fagula yare speak of?” Dumblrdoor was very confused at this point that he considered using a jinxing spell on that big Dovelebee and escaping from the troubling situation. But the kids didn't boast anymore about this ‘gay’ anymore and just chuckled themselves back to the slutherpeeners dungeons. This day changed Alboz Dimblrdware forever. Forever, that is, until the day he met Rom Tiddle.

/

Rom Tiddle woke up after a quite depressing sort of night. He lived in the darkest dungeon of the Slitherpens and never quite liked it, even the sorting hat had agreed that the Ravencocks might have been a better fit for him. He was a cunning and smart lad, and the top of his class already. He had met a quite underrated Hilaryduffelpuff and had become very good friends with the small lad, but the term was almost at hand to be over and he knew he didn't have any classes with the Hufflebeen next term. It was a tragedy of a friendship that was soon to die. Tiddle often wandered the quiet corridors after dark in secret keeping an eye out for the ghosts and taking notes on their constant and transparent interacitons through the wozart world. One of the ghosts became more aquanted with the young Tiddle and eventually they spent lots of time together, and more other dimentional creatures would soon become commonly known with the wosert. One particular imaculate being was the Bird Lord of Death, other wise known as Piss enigma. Piss enigma was known for flocking pigeons together and making them charge at unwelcoming foes (aka students.) It took Tiddle a while to calm the raging bird lord but with anticipation and patience, they worked hand in hand at terrorizing students together, and finding joy in their rigorous pain. This lonely life that Tiddel lived seemed to burden him with the heart of a typical sliverin, but it was an inevitable fate. such as the fate of second term, charms and potions class. /

The second class of the day after breakfast was DomblrDlwar’s charms class, it wasn't his favourite class, but he knew he was going to pass with the top grade anyhow. This particular class was mixed with Slutherboobs, (as was his potions class but he had not yet found that out) Some of the Slatherbuns included the grotesque Dovelebee’s younger sister Whoreminy, and her two best friends, Harrilyn and Ronalda, they were a trio of bitches, and no one messed with those (sand?)whiches and survived. The rest of the slender buns seemed lowkey and unnoticable, except for one quant-looking frail boy, who Domblerdo remembered as the ghost boy, always sending birds at others and talking with the Piper (one particularly sing song type ghost who appeared to have gone mute in late.) “Sit down children, and welcome to the FUN and EXCITING class of Charms 101!” The small wozarod professur Flitdick. The stout widzrt flicket his rather taunt wand into the air and two dozen textbooks labled ‘Wizarting Charms 101’ appeared in front of the students. “Next you will each be assigned two table partners, now, I know this must be hard for you now, but you will see how diversity between the houses is important!” There were more than several moans and groans fromt he students all around the crowded door. “Please enter the room where you will each find a note card with your particular name, along with two other students.” Everyone filed into the old wooden room, the only light shinning through the enormous windows out looking the castle around them. There was a lot of commotion going on with what seemed like the bitch trio trying to over take a table where they all were not suppose to be, but after about 5 minutes of arguing and unneeded distress, the trio got their own table, this had effected Dumblrdoob quite a bit, because of the displacement, the two Grocerydors Regularsass and Minerva had to leave his table, only for the seat next to him to be filled by the odd Slutherbun, Rom Tiddile. Dombledo had noticed how the boy next to him sat in such a way that he looked like a wand at the ready for a dual. The day moved on and Dmovbler went to his last class of the day, which was potions, in the Sloberbums dungeon, where the impervious Sevrick Snapple (snail apple) taught his potions class. In an unlucky turn of events, DUmbrlsdom had yet again another class with the Slitherpisses’ but he was happy to not see the cackling trio. That Tiddie kid was there again and after not being antagonized to much extent by the young Sltuehrboo, felt contempt with having 2 classes with him.

/

Rom Tiddyl finished his final class of the day, of the first day of the second term. He, as he had predicted, was no longer seeing the HilaryDuflebag anymore, not in the halls or steps to the greathall, and had predicted that he had felt hurt by Tiddle in some way. Tiddle was a hard soul but never meant to be that way to his friends. But then again, he thought back to himself as he stepped out into the cool december air, what were friends anyway?

Two more weeks past and the weather grew grim and cold, for most they scowled at the cooling air, but Rom quite preferred it to that of the Summer Death Heat as he called the months that grew so hot that the brightness deafened any who looked into the parched sky. Rain was falling and it was December 9th. Rom contemplated staying inside his dungeon room, but the rest in the common room had gotten to boisterous for his tone today. He took a stroll in his usual areas, but didn't see any of his ghostly friends around. He decided to look around in a new area, but was afraid of this new journey, for it took him to the unknown territory of the Grivonbubs.

He carefully made his way into the west tower, climbing the swirling stairs. He found a hidden cubby in the highest reach of the tower where no one seemed to have recently dwelled, this was probably because of the curses that loomed about in place to place, but as a wizard of dark slither book decent he decided the dark magical world no longer bothered him, and he sort of embrace it with an open cold heart. Always a cold heart. The only warmth that came to him was this soppy weather, when the clouds and sky blurred together leaving sweet smells of precipitation. Tiddles hope to escape the sounds of barren Earthly humans was thwarted by footsteps, that he expected to be some smug little brat of a Grivgonbee that caught him sneaking up hear, or the same of the care taker mr. fish. But it was indeed a little Griggonfor. Rom hid next to a forgotten bookshelf hoping that the boy would evacuate presently after seeing that his sighting of a Slitherbin was indeed, incorrect.

/

Dumbrldork forked his way up the flight of stairs, and had finally made it to the top of his fvourite hiding place. He felt a strange presence which he assumed was the curses that hung around the stingy air. It was a cool evening and his most prefered tempurature. He curled up with the blanket he had lugged up with him and pulled out his book ‘The Many Rhetorical and Metephorical Uses of Spells.” Which he had recently checked out from the library.

/

Rom Tiddi was conflicted on whither to reveal himself so that he could reclaim the room, or to just sit down and listen to the odd noises of the silent reading Grifonbor. It was an odd emotion he felt, not as if he would ever consider friendship of this mere squabble of a wizard, but the feeling of him nearby was comforting in some sort of way.

And so they sat there together, one unknowing of the simultaneous company, and the other just enjoying the silentness of the intruder to his new secret base among the Grindofers.

It became late enough at night and Rom was finally able to slip back to his own common room to bed when Dombledor finished his book and retreated down the long stepway to his own dwelling.

Rom didn’t mention seeing Domblideuar the next day during Charms, but somehow he felt like he already knew. Something had changed between Rom and Dumbelrdoan.

#harry potter #fanfiction #my writing #a wondrous journey through gay hell and death #chapter 1 #dumbledor #voldemort #fuck #its literally 2 am and I'm writign a fucking fan fiction how did this happen #save me

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

A Maiden, a Champion, the weary King, and the Prophet  5/17/15

‘A Maiden, a Champion, the weary King, and the Prophet’ 5/17/15 ”Twas’ oft, and bleak that I should let out a scowl at the young waitress, but it cannot be said in any other words that I had forgotten who I was condemned to be and create within those standards. Not many in my regime fought for the same bold outlook on life but I made due. The champion was a sparrow at the time and never took his eyes of the wandering past. And the old maiden from far far east took it as an insult when offer’d a taste of Rome. I cackle at these people— peasants really, who would question the power of the righteous king of out great and mighty land, tis’ a wonder to my ears and sight.” The young patron of sorts had been reading aloud for the past hour. Daylight sought the light of the stone walls to his left and the shades were only a blur to them. Were they stone? Or, perhaps just the dawdling of old clouds, one broad and bouldering, but now a brisk wind dispersed it in a twist. “Who is the maiden? And this champion figure? Not a mention before or after them, again?” The younger sprouted tree said. “—Medria you fool, there it is in plain sight, but it hides a knife behind its back!” The patron expressed. “What am I? But a toad stool?” “Ah Kalan, this is not what I expected from a king of scholars, I am aware of the metaphor.” But Medria had long forgotten the difference between luck in knowledge and understanding. “Continue with this torturous riddle of sorts, please.” They both settled back in but Kalan had a dispirited his wanting to continue, for he knew his young of kin was faltered, not of his doing, but of the gods of the world, who sought some sort of strange damn’d continuity. One never seemingly achieved on his part, or any other in his knowledge. “A bastardly doubt, ey.” Kalan looked at Medria and her glinting eyes. “Dear Medria, look at the time.” He pointed to the sun dial in the window sil. “Oh by gods, and mothers, Kalan.”  She astumpted, “Apollo will not stop of breath for a story being read a’night.” “If the gods damn up both you will be sin’d for a century in the underworld.” The poet, the archer, Kalen, continued the tale with blither and bitter taste. This taste wailed on into existence and was never forgotten, as never is forgotten of sour tastes of the eyes and bellow out knives. Medria died young and drifted into the stars, and Kalen remained a prophet, tales of a mistriss, champion, and king all arose, not in a book or a spirited bed time story, but in the life after Medria, when the world forgot truth, and began to suffer. It was not entirely apparent in the beginning, Kalen became a young man and moved on from the stone walls in which he had inhabited for all his collected years. His new bringings was an old cottage out in a forrest. A century passed, as he had predicted, torturing his mind and pestering his soul. He self condemned his path, but as time was promised. The people moved, battled, and eventually came upon this old forrest in which he resided. It was a temple, and he was the only one who could tell the story of our past in truth, he did not mention a single power or prophet of his knowledge. But spread his words in artistic fashioned looks, which the unknowing people thought was the one and only truth. What was this truth for real though? It was indeed the demons in his head dancing around trying to confuse the on-goers who looked into the tiny windows. After the time of the gathered people, came building and mistrust between towns. Civilization reeked of blood and booze, that of which, was equally forgotten by the common folk. Kalen, respected elder of the people, was still a young man to time, and led the city, until kinghood, when the lands conformed together as one. It was not until his grandson Kalen III came to power was it that the powerful family began to weep. The gods hadn’t forgotten Kalans sins. The family was beseeched by a terror of a plague. The last heir resided back to the hills beyond the once apon’d forrest. There he met Damenia and had four children, three girls and a boy, who would become Kalan IV. This young man became a champion of great strength and honor. He fought the tree of Gael’d and died. But the true soul that embodied Kalan moved on as his sister once did. She’d waited over 4 centuries for him to return to her. And together, they met at the astral mountain of Herevles. They walked among the moon trees, and flowering pastels all around them. They followed the path together. Medria was bared east, following the Maiden, and Kalen to the west to breach the might of the Prophet, they’d once heard a fable of such one’s who they believed to hold their destiny, and it was so that on this day, two more constellations ascended into the night sky, to be powdered in clouds, and rest in the midnight dwelling.

#my writing #idk #i haven't posted anything in a while so heres something i wrote.. #short stories #theres spelling errors but idc #and a few made up words #like astumpted #who the fuck knows what thats means #astounded and stumped at the same time???????

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

🐫 tongue twister titi hats

trip on ur stupid shoe lace and get sprayed in the face by ur best friends mace what the fuck does anything mean whats the stupid jist to this this life we live and dont care or repair lasting tendencies why a stanima filled panima canal rhymes qith zero rythmes or lice in ur hair? no thanks those songs on the radio that sound like shit ecripting in ur ears or screaming radio ads pissing out bullshit how lucky i am to know 0% down on my next car change the to a mellow tune of psycho yelling parents ring ding dong "our kids pick disgusting sex pillows" what? no that cant be right check my ears doctor i thought i heard my life pass by? was it there, wasted, repeated? oh well i can help yhe nect costumer here…

#poetry #my dad bought me an entire woodchukc tonight is okayer than last #haha #jk #fck

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

soft salty poetry

not quite yellow

im black and blue only thinking about how you— yes you and your coloured ferensic aftertaste blend with my saliva, simmer, burn, my scorched tongue wraped with envy and lust— but alas, i am without ember in my kindling fire left astray— dismay you could call it but it doesnt have a number, you pluck in the letter mixed numbers and the dail tone— a dail tone, the sounds of long hard beeps, hours of it, a mascarade orchistra plays over and over to the beat of beeps— so far away it is, when the sharp beep rings on, it probably died long ago but in my head i repeat it to my hearing loss, like a morse code— area code, where oh where, in my hight i would’ve known but every minute passes by to the beat of that tone— all around me it surrounds me, i become black and blue with tone

#my poetry #my writing #poetry #writing #writers on tumblr #promo #plz

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

new little dude named milk

#snail #bc milk is cool and so is this snail

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

.

#i actually really dont want to go to bed cause mu dreams keep geyting really fucked up and it scared me #wtf #idk note to self #personal

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

books with no titles

my books may be silent, but they still talk to me. a fresh page and new beginnings, the character plays his role, but so far away. so far away i go from here, will i come back to the world i was not so long ago? tragedy after tragedies, pushing away, away. far now, you could say, or stay.

#poetry #my writing

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

champagne eyes

im tired of looking at the ground when i walk, watching it pass by molded together, as a fuzzy image. im tired of staring at the wall or ceiling blankly, alone, unmoved. why do my eyes blur everything around me when im trying so hard to look for the answers in the canvas around me.

#words #poetry (ish). #why am i so sad abt everything right now i wanna cry #ughhhhhhh #my writing #my head hurts sso fuckkng much #fck

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

A restless 19 year-old man A secretive 21 year-old woman A mother hands over the reins of the family business It's a story about escape your character discovers some unpleasant truths

(generator scenario that explains what my new story is sorta about) 

So I'm starting a new story. I really have no clue what its gonna be about other that escape, in the sense of escaping from the terrible truths of life (idk maybe not that?) there are four main characters and the story teller

CHARS:

The Fool • Fenzly Tomn (a part time street performer and actor)

The Clever • Nadya Sevinç Joshi (smart young girl who desires to be a tattoo artist)

The Tenacious • Dominika Bożena Teodozja (the college student who is conflicted about their feelings toward themself)

The Fierce • Yun Seong Lee (the fierce artist who will inherit her mothers art gallery/bookshop one day) and finally

The Fabulist • who is this secretive person? the narrator? you? me? you do not get to know (lmao suckers) until you read my story.

SETTING:

some city - urban area - cool architecture - and such

TIME:

undecided - but modern - possible a little in the future where cities are bigger and theres more diversity yknow 

FUN COOL TIME WHERE I PUT U /and or/ YOUR CHARACTERS IN MY STORY:

send me and ask/mail about who you want to be a character in this story, I'm really just at the beginning so who knows, maybe your character will replace or be added the the main characters (woah cool no way)

why you should do this / what you get out of it:

plz

srly i have no life do this for me

your character (or you) will be in a (totally cool) story

your character may or may not be surprise killed at any point in the story (probably not tho)

plz and thanks

i need characters

yes, you should

well thats all i have to say about this upcoming story /i need feedback please/

#my new story #about #my writing #writing notes #characters needed #story #writers on tumblr #writing #plot structure #its a story about escape #unnamed story

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

2.27.14

cascade palms you clapse so tight not to relapse,

dont slither back into the night away from this cold parilyze,

in paridise i understand your retrospect for dismay,

have you not the same fears that retromitted through missed days?

i miss the scars and miss the hears that’re said together,

whenever stars pew across the landscape sky,

#my poetry #poetry #writing #writers on tumblr #poetry on tumblr #my writing

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

The man held time in his back pocket, and so it was that time followed behind him. He took his time, and crafted his formation. But when it was that time was forgotten, rotten in the jeans. The man became mad with time, stained on his hands. His knees grew weak, and death covered over the man with its veil. And time once again, took its place among the common. 2.26.15

#writing #time #words #poetry #writing on tumblr #writers on tumblr #my writing #warmers

[justasmallblipintheuniverse]

a found poem off of an oedipus packed

#found poetry #found poems #poetry #poems #writing #my writing #my poetry #words #black and white #poetry on tumblr #writing on tumblr #found poetry on tumblr #dark