The Deepest Thoughts

The Deepest Thoughts

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Oct 18, 2020
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Non-Fiction
Being an author doesn't mean I have a published book or five stars as most people say. It means, working hard to get a good plot. It means staying up to unearthly times of the night to hurry and write an idea down so I don't forget. It means loving my characters and nurturing them to the point of success in the end. It means being passionate in my art, and sharing what I believe and feel with others. It means criticising my work endlessly to make it perfect, not just for the public, but for me as well. It means hours of staring at the words I've written with a thoughtful scowl as I edit my work..... This is part of one of my random shorts that I have written recently. I've found that writing a little thing can help with writers block which has been a huge problem for me these past couple of weeks. The shorts in this aren't all so deep but they are all fun and interesting!
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A place where true love expires, good people get fired and beings are nothing but dust. Where stalkers are heroes, society makes zeroes and madness is not in the crust. Some people are killers, and that's just the pillars of what is essentially rust. When you feel you are mad, but that isn't so bad in a world that is oh so unjust. They'll kill you by car, or from quite afar in a world where all life is fleeting. Don't try to protect, you'll just end up wrecked, for you know their hearts are not beating. They'll kill you my sweet, and not drop a beat, for my story is only just heating. Power means all, even more for the small, but power has a habit of retreating. The bodies mount up, many lives will breakup, as I'm here to just tell a story. Don't look in the hill, though it is quite a thrill, I've heard it can get quite gory. Don't play with the heart, and don't think you're too smart, or you'll die with none of the glory. All are mad from the start, but you played your part, in the world of pure purgatory. Alas look a ghost, be careful you're not toast, you must want to see what I see. Society is ruthless, protection is fruitless, for in madness is when you are free. Perfection is dead, from the wounds we all bled, a cruel fate we did not foresee. While outsiders are safer, if only by a wafer, you can still hear them utter a plea. Now my story is frightening, but oh so inviting, so come now and give it a whirl. I can promise some danger, so don't be a stranger, watch now - we will see it unfurl.

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