Take ten minutes and just... write

Take ten minutes and just... write

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This is a discussion on Take ten minutes and just... write within the The Art Museum forums, part of the Topics of Interest category; Set a timer for ten minutes, feel free to go over if you're on a roll, and just start writing. ...

  1. #1

    Take ten minutes and just... write

    Set a timer for ten minutes, feel free to go over if you're on a roll, and just start writing. Anything. Let it flow out.

    Here's mine:

    A thought that never ends and a word without a story, ink without a pen and triumph without glory. The victory days are over.

    The sun shines its light on the fresh blood spilt from the earth, and it glistens and screams "I am beautiful, I am dead."

    The acedia is beginning to settle in, and it smells of an eglantine nightmare shining under the sky whose blue cannot be escaped. Behind their eyes there is death. At their lips grow cypress.

    The world has begun to wilt. The will has begun to shrivel. The blackened corners of their existence call out to dreams of illumination and remind them of the shadows.

    What lacks is clear from what remains, the sentences unfinished, the apathy of a soul, the whispers of silence.

    The sun rises to steal sight, it lavishes in the eyes put to little use, eyes that shut away life and let it enter through windows, eyes that grow hemlock and smile away the world.

    The acedia is dying, and with it we die.

    The victory days are over.

    The sun shall rise.

    Edit: umm, just as a note, I'm not a 9. I just like the concept of acedia.
    Vaka, Tatl33, strawberryLola and 27 others thanked this post.

  2. #2

    @JaySH , @Jaytheinfp , @Aha , @Katfeatherfoot and @ENTrePreneur , you guys might like this.

  3. #3

    Today has not been great. In fact, it’s been not great. So not great in fact, that I am close to the edge of sanity and reason. It’s been one of those, everything is messed up and hurts and makes one want to run headlong into traffic and just end it all days. I don’t get those days often, for which I am extremely grateful, but today is one of them.

    If I could rate this day with other days, I’d place it somewhere above death of a loved one or myself, but slightly below, catastrophic failure and crippling low self-esteem. It’s not that I hate myself, even. It’s just that I find myself not exactly liking who I am and wondering if that feeling is normal or if I really am as messed up as they say, I am. I don’t always hate myself. Sometimes I amuse myself, sometimes I think, “Wow, I actually said something right”, and sometimes I’m even proud of something I did, but today is not one of those days. Today is one of those days where I wonder if I’m good enough, if I’ll ever find anyone to love me, and even if I did get it would I be worthy it.

    I can say in all honesty, probably not. I’m probably not worthy of love or understanding or acceptance. I mess up at least twice a day. I say things that are seriously fucked up, and I do even worse things. I’m not exactly great at anything, other than being a complete and total fuckup.

    But it’s okay. Why? Because I make people laugh. I make them cry; sometimes I even make them yell in pure and utter anger. And I realize that I do have some worth. I make people feel. I’m not always understood, in fact, I’m actually almost never understood. But even with all my glaring flaws and ineptitudes and totally idiocy, I provide some form of something to others. I make them feel, sometimes I make them laugh, sometimes I inspire them to do things they never thought they could, and sometimes, despite how unbelievably awful I can be, I actually do or say something right and make someone feel like they themselves aren’t complete and utter fuckups.

    So, even though today was literally one of the worst days I’ve had the “privilege” of experiencing in my 32 years of life on this earth, I’m good. I’m not fine. I’m not okay. I’m actually good. I’m happy and content and at peace.
    Runemarks, Runemarks, Runemarks and 20 others thanked this post.

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  5. #4

    Please don't come near to me.

    I don't trust you.

    Or rather... I don't trust myself.

    Like a flame, I'm warm and beautiful from a distance.

    But I burn those who get too close.

    Trust me. I don't mean to.

    I don't WANT to live distant from the rest of the world.

    But it's been proven time and time again that I am not capable of getting close without burning.

    I wish I could change it. Truly I do.


    In a strange way...

    I enjoy my fiery nature.

    My flaming passion.

    My burning shame.

    My determination.

    My pride.

    And everything else that makes me me.

    I am a flame.

    I am alone.

    I must remain so to protect those I care about.

    You may laugh,

    or mock,

    or disbelieve.

    But this has been proven

    And Time
    And Time
    And Time
    And Time

    So forgive me if I ignore your ignorance.

    This is me.

    The extrovert

    who was alone.
    gwennylou, renna, Lightlilly and 35 others thanked this post.

  6. #5

    She probably shouldn’t have stolen the papers, but Dian had to know what her client was getting into for the sake of her own head. No one in their right mind came to her unless they were desperate, typically the unsavory sorts on their way to being found dead in a gutter. Leafing through the financial papers and classified records revealed David Wright, her current clientele, had a history of gambling and money laundering. He had been placed on the wanted list in the last year.

    David’s profuse sweating, knitted hands, and stuttered speech when he entered Dian’s office the other afternoon had been a red flag not all was right with the deal he was trying to cut. He wanted money to pay off his house, but he didn’t even own a home. In fact, there was no record of his current residence except a P.O. Box.

    Dian spit the pen out of her mouth and pulled out a note card scribbled with David Wright’s phone number. She dialed and felt the ring of the office phone resonate in her skull.

    A male voice dripping with masked inferiority answered after the third ring. “Speaking?”
    Her tone was even and cool despite her nervousness when it came to talking on the phone. “Mr. David Wright, this is Dian Clark. I’m calling about the contract you wanted to sign.”

    David’s tone changed to a cheerier one. “So is it done? When will I be able to pick up my money? If you don’t mind I would like to collect it directly instead of from a bank-If the arrangements can be made. I heard you don’t mind those sorts of circumstances.”

    Those ‘circumstances’ were for special clients and were not well known to the public.

    “I’m sorry but your offer has been declined due to a bad credit. Have a nice day.” She hung up before David could so much as choke on her words.

    I wrote way more than posted here and the names mean nothing, I pulled them out of thin air. It gave me an idea for an entire book, a fantasy one. Basically, in this short, the main character is a 'clean' loan shark acting as a gatekeeper and front for her boss who deals personally in giving loans that aren't strictly legal.
    Watercolourful, ENTrePreneur and Klaude thanked this post.

  7. #6

    "You will become great one day." Said the voices in my head...

    but words are only words when the world around you doesn't seem to be with them...

    "Hurry up and finish! You're falling behind! Run faster! Why are you not there yet?..." These haunting voices from these people called parents; no matter how fast I run, I never seem to be fast enough. They want me to be there, now. No questions, no excuses, simply results. But I am but a mere mortal, and who toils in their fantasy. Hoping only to ever even be a moment to their closest ideal...

    I have dreams too.

    I aspire to be great, I aspire to change many things. But I don't need your lingering voices to tell me what to do...
    Watercolourful thanked this post.

  8. #7

    On a cold Friday afternoon, I had come home from school. I had been thinking of the gym all day. I was hungry, didn't have any lunch. In fact, I didn't eat because I spent the money. For the past month I was saving up for something. Something special which I bought at GNC. I was surprised they didn't ask for ID; I was pretty sure the cashier noticed how nervous I was. Anyways, my mom asked my how my day was when I got home, but I ignored her. I have more important things to do. I run to the bathroom and unpack my bag. In my school bag is a white plastic bag from GNC. I open the bag, first removing the receipt and flushing it down the toilet to get rid of the evidence. My heart was racing now. I unpack the creatine monster from the bag. I wonder what people will be asking me when they see that I will be 50lbs heavier. Should I say I was just eating a lot?

    I remove the label from the tub and tear it into a thousand small pieces. I flush that down the toilet, too. It is time now. I run up to my room when my mom ask me what I am holding. I panic, sweat drips down my forehead and my teeth chatter. "Mom, it's just for a school project". "What project?" "I don't know mom I just started it!". A tear runs down my cheek. I run upstairs and open the creatine, scooping upservings into a clear water bottle. What have I gotten myself into? I fill it with water and drink it. There is no turning back now. The creatine monster is inside me now, it will control me. What should I do if I die? I cant let my family know about this.

    I open the creatine tub and throw it all out the window; a white cloud of mysterious dust sparkles into the wind so graciously. I feel the substance taking control of me; I am now the monster. I walk downstairs, its time to work out; time to get big. Now I worry, I don't want to get too big; people will think I use steroids. I do use steroids. No I don't. Creatine. All I see is the weights now, I am almost downstairs when I hear "Do you want a cookie I just baked". I know I do not have time for this **** now. "No mom I do not want a cookie" I walk in the basement and drop to my knees before the weights, tears running down my cheeks.

    I turn to the right and look at myself in the mirror. Oh god, what have I done?



    Watercolourful thanked this post.

  9. #8

    I don't fucking care you idiot. I'm tired. Why do you bother with all that bullshit. We have bigger things we could be doing. Better things. I do not live long enough to entertain the idiocy of people. I'm running out of time. Every single second all these rules and social obligations are suffocating me. I'm tired of playing by your rules. I did not agree to this. How many minutes have I wasted having conversations I didnt want to have. How many hours? How many days? How many school hours did I waste being taught things I already know?

    When it all comes down, what did I really gain from any of that. All you taught me was how to lie. How to cheat and steal and manipulate my way ahead. How to make "money". How to be the type of person society needs. Not the type of person I want. God bless the mighty dollar. Every wants to get rich, but we hate all rich people for being greedy. We need money but not TOO MUCH. I have to find the perfect balance between everything. Be emotional, but not TOO emotional or your insane. Stay clam, but not TOO calm or you are a psychopath. Be kind, but not TOO kind of your a push over. Be strong, but not TOO strong or your a bully.

    Every strength comes with a flaw. Every decision comes with a price. Nothing is free. You will always lose. Its insane. Its ridiculous. We don't lose because we die. We lose because of all the decisions we have to make. You can't make all the choices. And every second the amount of choices you have narrows down. Every second a door closes. Every. Single. Second. And you wonder why I'm angry. WHY I'M SO FURIOUS. Its because my time is being wasted. Its because no matter what decision I made. I've lost.
    Watercolourful, Draki, Candy007 and 16 others thanked this post.

  10. #9

    It was not a dark and stormy night. It had been a dark and stormy day but the storm ended shortly before the sun set. Of course, it was hard to tell that the sun set when it never shone in the first place. I had been out for my walk and was about ten miles from home when the storm suddenly struck and there I was, once again, stranded outside with no hope for shelter and no rain gear and an umbrella that was completely useless because it was windy and the umbrella immediately turned inside out and then took off like some sort of insane jet plane.
    So anyway, I was outside with no hope of becoming anything but completely soaked. I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and to embrace my situation. If only I had a bar of soap. But I digress. I began singing every rain song that I knew. I started with singing in the rain and I began dancing and singing and looking like a complete fool because, well, why not? How are you going to have fun while getting soaking wet if you're not willing to risk looking like a complete fool? Anyway, it's better to look like a complete fool than a partial one.
    Before long, I discovered that I wasn't alone. There was a man walking beside me. Where did he come from? I was so absorbed in my song and dance that I didn't even notice that there might be other foolish people who were outside walking and who were also getting completely soaked. He was very handsome, even with wet hair that was plastered all over his face. He had a tougher time than I did with the bad weather because he was wearing a tuxedo. I wondered who he was and why he was dressed that way. He told me that he was supposed to get married that day. Unfortunately, the bride had had too much to drink shortly before the wedding was scheduled to take place. She met another man while she was in the bar getting inebriated and she decided that she wanted to stick with the other man. The other man turned out to be a crook. He stole both the girl and the limousine and they drove away, leaving both the groom and the chauffeur high and dry. Well, at first. After a while, it was not so high and very wet. The jilted groom was walking sadly away from the ill fated wedding when he came across me. He asked me why I was out in a storm and where I was going. I said that I didn't know where I was going. At some point, I wanted to go home but, first, I thought that maybe seeking shelter was a good idea because, just at that moment, lightning struck not too far from where we were. In fact, it struck right in the middle of the river. Lots of lightning struck in the middle of the river.
    Oddly enough, the water started to churn and to boil. The man and I began to run, as fast as we could away from the water...
    (that was fun but, alas, the ten minutes have expired)
    Dalien, Watercolourful and Aryath thanked this post.

  11. #10

    Freewriting reminds me of the time I had to freewrite in one of my writing classes and how I think the teacher didn't understand me that well but got some insight into how I think from my freewriting. It's hard to freewrite and I'm a very private person so I think some people are surprised when they get an insight into how things work in my head. I guess they just don't know what to expect or they're surprised to see anything at all. Maybe they have a lot of pre-conceived notions from observing me and those notions get shattered. Who knows, all I know is, damn am I a private person around people. It's a little sad in a way, but I don't like to do a lot of sharing in open situations like groups and such and I don't do a lot of meeting people in smaller, 2-3 person situations, so it just doesn't happen a lot. I don't particularly like eyes staring at me, unless I have a purpose behind it like giving a speech. It feels like a weird thing but it is what it is. It's something I'd love to just "get over" in a way, but I know that part of it is just my personality and probably never going to go away completely. In some ways, I'd love to be more open with people when I meet them but at the same time some of the people I meet I just have no interest in getting to know and I'm repulsed by their mentalities. This isn't everybody and some of the people I meet I would love to get to know better, but of course those are the people I am most intimidated by. So I guess I place people on varying levels of "above me" and "below me" subconsciously and that affects what I decide to tell them. It would be best, I know, if I just placed them all as "equal to me," but that's hard to do for some reason and I'm not sure why. I've never really had close relationships with people my age. It was always siblings above/below me in age or friends above/below me in age. Never really related to people my age either, so maybe that's why I do the above and below thing - I'm ranking people by maturity or something and I only want to choose the ones who as mature as me, perceivably, or more mature. But the ones who I perceive to be less mature or have a bad mindset, I seem to automatically take on a teaching role with them, wanting to explain to them how to fix their problems or help them overcome certain inconsistencies and problems of thought. Of course, it's kind of arrogant because I'm assuming that I'm actually more mature than these people, but whatever. That's the way it goes. I can't control my subsconscious reflexes. I can probably revise them but that takes a lot of time and concentrated effort to shift mentality so deeply. I probably need to do it though. Probably need to shift a lot my mentalities if I want to get where I want to be, because right now, many of my mentalities are just blockades holding me right where I am, firmly. So yeah, somehow I've managed to come up with another reason why I have tons of work and effort set out before me. I guess that's a response to people perceiving me as being lazy, "Hey, I'm not actually lazy. I'm working my ass off at trying to avoid being lazy." What a waste of time that is, trying to prove a point to people in some idiotic way. God, if I spent as much time trying to do crap like that and spent it on working toward my goals, I'd be right where I want to be already and be looking for more goals to complete and just relaxing at the success I had achieved. Instead, I'm sitting here overthinking everything and trying to make everything happen through the sheer power of thought to prove myself to imaginary criticism that ultimately doesn't matter. How silly that is.
    Watercolourful and Draki thanked this post.

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