Historias de Contemplation

In the midst of hopeful yet insidious 1960s London. The world has not ended, but something worse has begun. Across the British Isles, the remnants of a horrendous phenomenon called "The Dreading" purge every living soul - rebellion, resentment, and a bloodborne plague that turns its victims into ghouly beasts. The afflicted are not dead, yet not human, and no one dares to summon them. Perhaps it is the only moment of time when humanity was closest to defeating the curse that terrorized every century on Earth. Fun fact: I try to create my own literary style called "Coninaudit" Inaudit = Unheard Coniectura = Guess The idea is that there are more chapters but with the most ambiguous short phrases which help develop the sense of what is happening with the plot or predict the intent of ideas, or as you can say, "Guess the Unheard". P.S. It's a form of episodical, so I might be releasing a different chapter sporadically.

I'm running out of explanations here. I'm winging it. I'm always winging it. The title just felt right and damn, here we are. It's poetry so if it's not your thing, you might like it. Occasionally, it may be a little prose, depending on the feeling but we'll try to keep it consistent. Does anyone ever even read these things? Ok it's about a boy, a lonely boy. Sometimes he feels like he's a thousand leagues under the sea. Other times, it's like he's been severed from reality. Whatever that means. This boy, just wants the world to understand him. But it has no obligation to. So he's stuck on the outskirts of everything and everything else hoping for some sense of clarity. It never comes. It never will. This is a documentation, of his never ending pursuit. That was decent, right? I do love letters, letter letters, confessions, police statements on the side, in case you need them. Basically, I'll handle the ever living heaven out of your writing needs. The sick part, is that it's free so feel free.. to blast the message board and I'll take the time I usually use to do something constructive and meaningful to tend to your requests. Read well, friends.

My late night muse; everyday muse ; People, things, feelings, colors that have inspired me in everywhich way.

Inspirational, interesting and something to ponder over quotes. ©2015

Just a girl with an obsession with strawberry Poptarts and the green and red Sour Skittles

Hi! I'm Daisy and this is my diary. You know those conversations you have with yourself and those scenarios you play through your head at 3am on a Sunday night? I decided to keep mine in a diary!

Title says it all but this is just whatever I find myself writing at the time

Heyo! I will post my Late Night Thoughts here. Just wanted to write them down haha!

In the desert of Nareth stands a ritual colossus known as The Watchman. It was created by an ancient civilization not as a weapon or a deity, but as an intermediary between the earth and the sky. Its sole function is to observe the weather and execute a sacred gesture when rain approaches.The civilization disappeared. The desert remained. The Watchman continues.This is a chronicle about the persistence of purpose beyond the extinction of its creators. An archaeological tale where time, erosion, and repetition are the only protagonists. There is no epic, no human conflict. Only the observation of a world that continues without the need to be understood.

Sharing with you nocturnal inspirations about daily gloomy & gleeful episodes. Just some sour peaks & sweetened ticks with hardly any utopia.

poems and drizzly singing thoughts from a girl entering the first stages of change 🌱🌷🌹

The lantern story is set in the late 1900's. The scene is a small fictional village in Eze town, Nigeria. The theme is focused around the functioning of a latern and significance of its fire. The protagonist is a 23 year old woman, called Nneoma. Nneoma was pregnant and lived with her husband. Her husband, Mr Okonkwo was not very wealthy and worked all the time. This meant that Nneoma was at home all the time. It can be referred from my story that Nneoma felt lonely. She tried so many things to keep her mind busy but at the end of the day she was drawn to her unique thoughts and possible regrets. The lantern provided warmth and light to her. She starred into its fire as she thought. The lantern fire became her companion. Her thoughts are explained in full details and maybe somewhat critical. However, this story is twisted in a shocking plot as an incident occurred that changed her story. A young lad is presented towards the end. And a touching moment is shared. This is a 2-5min read that will leave you exhilarated, fulfilled, and contemplated at the same time. It may also leave a tear or two on your eyes. Joyful or not, read this for more clarity or not. #mystery Disclaimer: This story is fictional, it is from my imagination and hard work. The picture and Art drawings in this book were done by me. Copy rights reserved. Do not try to copy any part of this book in any possible way. This prologue is just a hint in the book to make you understand and connect with the characters of the story. Read future to enjoy!

Listen to his heart/ for the faint things that he wants - Halley's Crowning Love is an exploration of the forms and notions of carnal and incorporeal love, and other beautiful human things. A/N: The Roman numerics (I, II, III, etc.) are Groupers. Groupers include special dedications, and introductions/ comments on the themed poems above them. *Credits Font: Mikko Nuuttila Vector: 365PSD.com

Haiku-like pieces, prose, and poetry on the arts, politics, nature, and the environment. Highest ranks, #1 in Haikus, #1 in Enlightenment, #1 in Meaning of Life, #1 in Deep Poetry, #1 in Expression.

In which Sepherene contemplates life, writing, and other insignificant things.

Poetry down to the heart and soul.. heart and soul

Poetry is my life force. It is the best way I can express myself. I've been writing poems for a long time but this is the first time I've shared them this way. This is a collection of my poetry, containing my thoughts, ideas, revelations. Basically, my soul. It is my horcrux. " A Cacophony of Melodies.- an Anthology"

◇ meraki ◇ leaving a piece of yourself in what you do ▪ ▪ ▪ °"For what is a human who does not think or feel?"° ▪ ▪ ▪ If only one person takes meaning from within my words, I will be more than grateful

An absolutely enriching , breathtaking and ancestral state whose roots are firmly grounded in their culture as they move forward by making their heritage, education and athletics an anchor into the 21th century.

A collection of tales to help quell your short story craving. The stories contained within are from a variety of genres written by the author CS Voll.