Looking around the dark, inviting room, thinking of life. It’s funny how you get thrown into things. The room you are in, for whatever reason. The things around you. You must’ve came to like them in some way, how though? Did it capture interest? Is it something a friend has gave you?
How did I get to this point? Feeling fiction from reading or writing is life, instead of my own. Wanting to be cast as characters in stories, but not my own life. Anxiety grows to be more like fictitious characters. I don’t understand my own life these days. All jumbled up, and disconnecting.
Anxiety like panic attacks hit me randomly. Especially when thinking of fiction. Heart races, nausea, dizzy spells, sometimes hallucinations, mainly when up a three a.m.
Closed-off, grumpy, thoughtful, manipulative, private, shy, ignorance despising, hypocritical just a few words to describe me. Everyone can be hypocritical. We are all so cruel in our own way.
No one can comfort me, nor do I feel anyone will listen. The ones who would, I’m terrified to talk to. I’ve driven myself to the point I feel like love isn’t real, and I’m silenced, and broken. I’m a fake, supportive, third wheel. I’m a sad head case that’s why I refuse to unload on anyone. I seem pathetic, even to myself.
I want to sob, yet I can’t seem to find tears anymore. They’ve evaporated. A few people make my heart crack when my eyes fall upon them. More tears gone. My hate toward love grows.
A close friend, she jumps on me for treating guys as if they’re disposable. I know she is right. Why do I? No one holds interest, commitment problems, scared, annoyance, I don’t know! I don’t know if I believe in love, or not. I want to, but its risky.
What is love? An orgasm with a lover? An I love you from your mother? A pat on the back from your best friend forever? A peck on the cheek from the boy next door, or the last kiss on the lips from an older couple saying goodbye? But there is no goodbye. For, we love even in death. There is no till death do we part.
Life will neve ber fully comprehendible. Never an answer to the why. Live, and don’t wait to die! Push it back, for it will cause worry, and anxiety. Live with happiness, not fear, and think about this for you’ve never thought of it before. Though, its has been said more, and more.
You only live once. You have a good forty years at the least. Four decades if your lucky. If your really lucky, longer. Then, your gone, no house, no friends, no air, no body, nothing, but your soul, and the afterlife. This is it, so make it count.
No. I refuse to let myself be roped back into this…must...break…free…before...all….hell…breaks loose……….
Black…It’s all black…
How did I get to this point? Feeling fiction from reading or writing is life, instead of my own. Wanting to be cast as characters in stories, but not my own life. Anxiety grows to be more like fictitious characters. I don’t understand my own life these days. All jumbled up, and disconnecting.
Anxiety like panic attacks hit me randomly. Especially when thinking of fiction. Heart races, nausea, dizzy spells, sometimes hallucinations, mainly when up a three a.m.
Closed-off, grumpy, thoughtful, manipulative, private, shy, ignorance despising, hypocritical just a few words to describe me. Everyone can be hypocritical. We are all so cruel in our own way.
No one can comfort me, nor do I feel anyone will listen. The ones who would, I’m terrified to talk to. I’ve driven myself to the point I feel like love isn’t real, and I’m silenced, and broken. I’m a fake, supportive, third wheel. I’m a sad head case that’s why I refuse to unload on anyone. I seem pathetic, even to myself.
I want to sob, yet I can’t seem to find tears anymore. They’ve evaporated. A few people make my heart crack when my eyes fall upon them. More tears gone. My hate toward love grows.
A close friend, she jumps on me for treating guys as if they’re disposable. I know she is right. Why do I? No one holds interest, commitment problems, scared, annoyance, I don’t know! I don’t know if I believe in love, or not. I want to, but its risky.
What is love? An orgasm with a lover? An I love you from your mother? A pat on the back from your best friend forever? A peck on the cheek from the boy next door, or the last kiss on the lips from an older couple saying goodbye? But there is no goodbye. For, we love even in death. There is no till death do we part.
Life will neve ber fully comprehendible. Never an answer to the why. Live, and don’t wait to die! Push it back, for it will cause worry, and anxiety. Live with happiness, not fear, and think about this for you’ve never thought of it before. Though, its has been said more, and more.
You only live once. You have a good forty years at the least. Four decades if your lucky. If your really lucky, longer. Then, your gone, no house, no friends, no air, no body, nothing, but your soul, and the afterlife. This is it, so make it count.
No. I refuse to let myself be roped back into this…must...break…free…before...all….hell…breaks loose……….
Black…It’s all black…
what a stupid! love! love! love! "i love love" "everybody needs to be a lover" "true love" all those stupid words! "bla bla bla"
love is a legend, there's nothing u can call it "love" , you can't even define it. you know why? because it isn't there! that's why you can't say i am in love and say the same word after two years or two days.
you see, if it worked with your lover, you 'll say you loved each other, and if it didn't work, you'll say it wasn't love!!!
you are all stupid, lovers!
you aren't even "lovers"
because "lovers" is a word from "love" and love's a legend.
when i heard this once when i was young, i didn't believe it.
but know i believe it's the truth, and there's nothing else truth.
you may not believe me now, but you will, in few years in your life.
love is a legend.
love is a legend, there's nothing u can call it "love" , you can't even define it. you know why? because it isn't there! that's why you can't say i am in love and say the same word after two years or two days.
you see, if it worked with your lover, you 'll say you loved each other, and if it didn't work, you'll say it wasn't love!!!
you are all stupid, lovers!
you aren't even "lovers"
because "lovers" is a word from "love" and love's a legend.
when i heard this once when i was young, i didn't believe it.
but know i believe it's the truth, and there's nothing else truth.
you may not believe me now, but you will, in few years in your life.
love is a legend.
First person writing is when the characters is speaking directly toward another person(You). You use words like "I", "Mine", "We", "Us." The character is telling the story to you themselves.
Second Person
Third person is the exact opposite. Instead of the character talking to you, the narrator is talking about the character. Your main words are "You", and "Your."
Third Person
Third person is almost similar to second person. The narrator is talking to you, but instead they use words like "He", "She", "It", and "They." Third person books often have the most detail.
For more detailed descriptions, go to: link
I'm up all the time now.
Head up
Shoulders back
Legs slightly apart
Back straight.
I walk into the exam room,
Knowing inside my heart
That the ones who fear
Are the ones who do not succeed.
I sit down.
Confident,
I start my song
Of utmost elegance.
I use all my power
And strength.
I use all the dynamics in the world,
I use everything everyone's brought me.
I use all the good that everyone
Has given me
In my life.
Time goes slowly by.
I feel myself going along with the beat.
I am entranced in my own song.
It feels better than ever before.
I am done.
I walk over to the judges,
Shaking each hand.
I feel a sense of pride in my heart,
Knowing that I have done it now.
I truly have.
Head up
Shoulders back
Legs slightly apart
Back straight.
I walk into the exam room,
Knowing inside my heart
That the ones who fear
Are the ones who do not succeed.
I sit down.
Confident,
I start my song
Of utmost elegance.
I use all my power
And strength.
I use all the dynamics in the world,
I use everything everyone's brought me.
I use all the good that everyone
Has given me
In my life.
Time goes slowly by.
I feel myself going along with the beat.
I am entranced in my own song.
It feels better than ever before.
I am done.
I walk over to the judges,
Shaking each hand.
I feel a sense of pride in my heart,
Knowing that I have done it now.
I truly have.