i'm going to post something i wrote just to get this thread started, but seriously, it's some of the lowest-quality writing i've done and i can't believe i'm even going to post it.
i write so much and just wanted to read some of the stuff my fellow writers have put onto paper. sometimes i don't write at all but i do love it.
the thing i wrote that i really want to post i can't. i can't find it. i actually put nurses, doctors, and my Mother in tears when i read it to them or when they've read it themselves, to the point where some of those guys had to leave the room. if i find it, i'll post it. i've been looking for it.
here's my latest (not good) writing:
It’s nights like this. They’re the ones that get me. Get me in the way, I mean, that grabs your heart from the outside in… the tears spring to your eyes before you even know why you're crying but you KNOW that you are missing something within yourself and it aches so deep within your soul that you cannot do anything but let the tears swallow you in.
Pink floyd, shine on you, crazy - what is it? Woman? Diamond? - is playing in the next room but that doesn’t matter so very much right now because even though the tears would say it’s all wrong (not the song, just all things besides), really it’s all JUST RIGHT right now and you don’t want this moment to pass.
Not for the rest of eternity do you want this moment to go, to leave you behind in its bitter dust.
But it will.
It always does.
All is well for now though; the words are coming at you faster than you can type and that song is still playing, and you have a book- 2 books, really, laying in wait to be fallen into later on tonite once the drink has taken its toll. the drink in a glass at the left, the stuffed cat that Grandpap bought you for Christmas at your right when you were so, so sick. the drink that you don't really want but that the anxieties and the sadness push you to consume.
glancing over at the down comforter that hides you from it all, that you curl up under and weep into at night before you say your prayers.
sweet sleep comes soon enough. not before the fears swirl through the mind and make your head spin, but before they take over and make you want to scream.
usually.
you want to make sure they are all okay, go see that thier breathing is even and that they aren't dreaming bad dreams, want to wake Mom up and say, 'i love you Mommy' but you know that's not a possibility and that they need thier rest. but you love them so much it hurts and would give anything for them.
one night..... it's one night and all nights that my thoughts go from here to there to next week, but just getting them out and into words makes it so much better. that's what made this 'one night'. all those spinning thoughts.
i write so much and just wanted to read some of the stuff my fellow writers have put onto paper. sometimes i don't write at all but i do love it.
the thing i wrote that i really want to post i can't. i can't find it. i actually put nurses, doctors, and my Mother in tears when i read it to them or when they've read it themselves, to the point where some of those guys had to leave the room. if i find it, i'll post it. i've been looking for it.
here's my latest (not good) writing:
It’s nights like this. They’re the ones that get me. Get me in the way, I mean, that grabs your heart from the outside in… the tears spring to your eyes before you even know why you're crying but you KNOW that you are missing something within yourself and it aches so deep within your soul that you cannot do anything but let the tears swallow you in.
Pink floyd, shine on you, crazy - what is it? Woman? Diamond? - is playing in the next room but that doesn’t matter so very much right now because even though the tears would say it’s all wrong (not the song, just all things besides), really it’s all JUST RIGHT right now and you don’t want this moment to pass.
Not for the rest of eternity do you want this moment to go, to leave you behind in its bitter dust.
But it will.
It always does.
All is well for now though; the words are coming at you faster than you can type and that song is still playing, and you have a book- 2 books, really, laying in wait to be fallen into later on tonite once the drink has taken its toll. the drink in a glass at the left, the stuffed cat that Grandpap bought you for Christmas at your right when you were so, so sick. the drink that you don't really want but that the anxieties and the sadness push you to consume.
glancing over at the down comforter that hides you from it all, that you curl up under and weep into at night before you say your prayers.
sweet sleep comes soon enough. not before the fears swirl through the mind and make your head spin, but before they take over and make you want to scream.
usually.
you want to make sure they are all okay, go see that thier breathing is even and that they aren't dreaming bad dreams, want to wake Mom up and say, 'i love you Mommy' but you know that's not a possibility and that they need thier rest. but you love them so much it hurts and would give anything for them.
one night..... it's one night and all nights that my thoughts go from here to there to next week, but just getting them out and into words makes it so much better. that's what made this 'one night'. all those spinning thoughts.
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