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Most writers look like writers whether they want to or not. It is hard to say why - for they model their exteriors whimsically on Wall Street brokers, cattle kings or English explorers - but they all turn out looking like writers, as definitely typed as “The Public” or “The Profiteers” in the cartoons.

- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Pat Hobby Stories

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White sheets lay neatly on the bed

The sun shines bright through the window

Laying here thinking of what you said

Wondering what it would be like if I could just feel you

The pattern of rain dances in my head

And now I can finally see you

Wishing there were better words that were said

But the rain washed that out too

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And fall I do, at a rapid pace - it’s actually faster than I thought - but unfortunately there’s no turning back now. I look around and see… nothing: it’s eerily quiet - peaceful even. For the first time in a while I’m able to see things clearly. Hmmm, what a strange time for a moment of clarity…

But I wonder if its because I’d already accepted my fate before I leapt, once my last toe lost contact with the ground and I surrendered to whatever force governed this world.

Its funny how when there’s nothing holding you back, you suddenly become that much more open-minded.

Sounds like a convoluted joke if you ask me.

But alas I’m free-falling with my eyes closed, my arms spread out as I patiently await the harsh embrace of whatever lies ahead of me.

For a brief moment or two, the weightlessness of my decision passes by like a cloud as I pass it on my way down.

It’s poetic humor, honestly. As beautiful as this world is, unfortunately my eyes were able to see it…

C'est la vie.

I wonder though, for all that I’ve said or done, was this the best thing to do? I see the lie that I told my mom and sister keeping them company - but it’s all a façade. Is this a mistake? As hard as things might be, there’s always a chance to rebound and come back. Compared to that, this was easy… but yet there’s no return. 

“Ahh!! what am I doing, how do I stop? Ahh!! Please, no more, I don’t want this anymore. I want to live, I want to live!… please, if anyone out there can hear me…..I WANT TO LIVE!!!”

My pleading seems useless and pitiful, stuck alone in the middle of a canyon… But before I know it, something comes into focus, the ground still getting closer and closer. “I’m panicking I’m not really sure what to do… PLEASE!” I wonder how panicked I must be to conjure hallucinations.

“Someone, anybody?”

I hear a sickening snap beneath me.

Oh my god…

I’ve stopped - but how? It’s a branch, and it caught me - but damn, not for long - I can hear it starting to break. My weight is too much for it to hold.

Ok…ok… ok… focus, think. I probably have a few seconds left before I start falling again. But wait! There, a ledge. It’s small, but I think I can jump to it - or if not, I can at least try and grab it before…

Ahhh!!! 

Damn. I got it, but I’m exhausted, and I don’t know how long I can hang here…

“SOMEONE HELP!!! Can anybody hear me?” My voice gets weaker as I trail off.

“Yes, I can -  where are you?”

I sigh in relief and shock, shuddering, already breaking into sobs, my voice steadying just enough to give a response -

“Over here, please hurry. I don’t know if I can hang on anymore…“

“Wait - keep talking so i can find you.”

“Omg, over here… please hurry!”

“I found you, but I don’t think I can reach you - you’re to low.”

Just my luck.

“Great. Please try… do something!!”

“Behind you! There’s a branch, hanging from you -”

“Actually? What am I supposed to do with it? Wait - maybe if I can grab it…” And maybe he can reach me - one can always dream - but if I let go, then I’m sure that will be the end. I don’t have the energy to hold on. I don’t even have the energy to distinguish my thoughts from what I say.

Well I guess this is the end again, my eyes are feeling heavy again… 

“NO! Wait - I can’t -” andddd there I go saying my embarrassing, self-loathing thoughts out loud. Ugh.

Breathe.

I had no options before. Now I do. I hate to try.


– written by @quiet-storm132

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Blue Mountain


Paint me a blue mountain so I can be happy.

Paint me an ocean so I can drown myself.

Paint me a fire so I can burn all my desires.

Paint me a sky so I could fly.

Paint me a mirror so I can reflect on things that I cannot see.

Paint me a picture of the story that I can’t yet narrate.

Paint me a blue mountain…

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I don’t like to read romance novels but im a sucker for romance fanfiction. Give me a 50k book with the most delicately written romance story of the ages, perfectly crafted by the writing god’s and adored by critics? Nope. Give me a 105k fic written in the dead of night by an author who has too much caffeine and no clue what they are doing? Hell fuck yes. Coffee shop AU here I come.

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Once again, we meet.

Age eleven; quick to anger, was always fighting, didn’t care about much for anyone or anything. The only things I held dear were my siblings. I always knew better, yet I choose to be with the wrong crowd because I believed, in a town like Arvin, this is as good as it will ever be. Nearly taking a life just so I could be left alone- yes, i know, but that was Arvin, that’s what you had to do; be the worst of the worst.

One day during detention, I was bored and was combing over the book shelves. They say don’t judge a book by it’s cover, but it was the title that got my attention. That’s how I felt to everyone. My mom and dad, my brother and sister, the teachers and peers, that’s how I felt. No one bothered to sit with me and talk things out, ask me questions on why I was the way I am. They gave up on a little boy who desperately needed a friend. A guide to life. ‘Monster’, I whispered. Picked up the book, began reading and that is the first chapter of books which changed my life significantly.

Age 17; I entered a writing contest, Letters About Literature and wrote to the author of how his book made an impact. I was one of the top 30 and not only that, he wrote back to me congratulating me on my achievement and also on what to do to be a writer. He believed in me. Someone I’ve never met, whose made a powerful impact on me, believed in me.. He’s helped me believe in myself.

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Quinn Nesrin is the youngest avnar (main king’s wizard) ever. He served both Wyern’s brothers. He was chosen to be avnar by older princ William who died in short but bloody war. Now he serves his good friend, William’s younger brother, king Hagan. Wyern kingdom has too little allies and Quinn’s concern about the threat that it’s rising, isn’t something to be overlooked. Stubborn avnar insisted on helping Kaidia, even thou he could lose his own life. But what seemed as little not dangerous curse turns into something bigger. Now this wizard has to work with young swordwoman and arrogant prince to save kingdom where many of his friends died.

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Him: I’m looking for…I feel as though, a place outside, where I wanna go, have a seat, sit down, eat and drink.

Him: Sit down Jessica, make yourself comfortable and have a go with me, here on these patio furniture chairs that you have for sale.

Jessica: Uh, this is not a job I do by sitting down. I’m on my feet most all day, mostly.

Him: So, I’ve noticed.

Jessica: What are you looking at back there? Why are you looking at me that way? Oh, by the way, I dress for success.

Him: You know you amaze me.

Him: I have a hobby and I like to buy things to further my hobby.

Jessica: Which is what? You come here to the hardware store quite frequently, which is good for business. You’re amazing me too!

Him: Yeah!

Jessica: Yeah!

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Aku senang telah bertahan sejauh ini. Melangitkan do'a kepada Pemilik Semesta; “Allah, apapun ketetapan yang Engkau beri, aku akan menerimanya dengan lapang dada, sebab Engkau adalah sebaik-baik tempatku berharap” kemudian kembali berjalan dengan hati-hati.

Aku ingin, ketika jalanku berbelok meski sedikit saja, Allah menegurku dengan sebaik-baiknya teguran. Entah kesadaran dari diri sendiri, entah melalui orang lain. Tapi aku yakin, hal itu datangnya dari Dia; Pemilik Semesta.


•rifaslsblaa

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