Welcome to my Diary.
- Leituras 1
- Votos 0
- Capítulos 1
Em andamento<5 mins
Última atualização dom, jan 12, 2025
As public as this can become, I fear the greater loss would be excluding the option to share, what I see missing, from this individualized experience that is my solemn existence.
I love poetry but I lack the wherewithal to pursue it.
I love poetry but I lack the technique of eloquently placing my experiences and emotions into verses and stanzas.
I love poetry but I don't embody the kind of characteristics one would expect a poet to display.
I fear if I don't start trying, simply trying to start writing, I will get to the end of my endeavor here with a lack of legacy.
That is a fear that startles me away some nights, and keeps me from falling asleep some others.
Ideas fester in my brain causing a chaos of stories and plots and inventions and romances and coming of ages and feuds and frictions and love and everything else. I just want to start where I have always intended to build. Off the shoulders of that mind shattering thought turbulence.
Here goes the shallows and depths of my mind.
If you have any thoughts, ideas, concerns or comments.. this is your story now as much as it is my mind.
Maybe we can be there for each other.
Welcome to my diary.
Todos os Direitos Reservados
Junte-se a maior comunidade de histórias do mundoTenha recomendações personalizadas, guarde as suas histórias favoritas na sua biblioteca e comente e vote para expandir a sua comunidade.
Talvez você também goste
"Almost Green"
Strands of your mind cling together like web to a slippery leaf bathed in the morning dew. You have seen both heaven and hell, witnessed the atrocities of war firsthand, and imagined a better life in the deepest, most intimate corners of your dreaming spirit. The wishes for peace and certainty you have once so desperately longed for, now lay trampled underneath the might of your mind's vivid horrors. What was once so bright and lively, now cowers in fear, clinging to gone memories like a shipwreck survivor to some lowly piece of driftwood. From the depths of hell, you arrived victorious, grasping the laurel wreath high above your head. Unrecognizable, with your empty eyes telling a story of innocence brutally taken away from the child curling in shame in the depths of your empty soul. Almost green you are, curly head, having grown up with a rifle by your bedside table, never knowing peace and quiet. Out of the pan that was the Kazdel Civil War and into the scorching flames of Lungmen, where life flows by on its own accord, here, you must learn to live once more. So put on your best facade, Let the reuniting trumpets ring a wild, And allow the city to swallow you whole. Here we are, a continuation of my previous work "Goodbye Curly Head", which sprawled into quite the epistle (but it wasn't really a letter, it's just long :P). Summarized in the most basic way possible, it's a story about a twenty-year-old Kazdel Civil War veteran who goes to Lungmen and has some troubles acclimating to the steady life presented before him. Sprinkle in a too-good-to-be-true offer and a freshly established logistics company, and you get Andy trying to make it big for as long as his deteriorating mental state lets him. I'd say it works as a standalone story for anyone who doesn't want to bother reading the first part. For now, at least. As always, please, pwwease leave a comment, positive, negative, I LOOOVE reading and replying to comments!!Concluída
Thoughts And Excerpts. || #Wattys2018
||Started: 1st April 2018.|| ||Ended: 15th November 2018|| some things I think about :) Along with some quotes that I add deeper meaning too. Some things that I talk about in this book are to no one. Some are dreams. Some are nightmares. Also some things in this book haven't happened to me. Its happened to a friend or I saw it on the internet and changed it up. Also my writing changes throughout this shitty book. Enjoy :)) (Previously known as 'Random Thoughts) {Highest ranking: #222, #85 in poem 2018 #666 in deep 0-o ) P.S. I have a great family life and I am not and (hopefully) never will be suicidal. My family means the world to me. ❤Concluída![Short On Time [COMPLETED]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/103077611-256-k855251.jpg)
Short On Time [COMPLETED]
"I have an idea." 😊 "Oh?" 😒 "You don't sound that interested in it." 😕 "That's because I'm not." 😒 *Growls * 😠 "Fine, what is your idea." 🙄 "Well, now that you asked, I want to make a book entirely made up of short stories. Hey! Don't leave! I think it could be really fun." 😄 "You think that?" 🤔 "Well, yeah! It's like mini episodes or short movies!" ☺ "If you say so." 🙄 "Will you please just support me on this?! You might be surprised at how much fun it is." 🙃 *Sighs and gestures onward* "Alright, lead the way." 😎 "Woohoo! This will be awesome!" 🤗😄Concluída
The Edge of Tomorrow
Born into a prestigious family, Elijah had to shoulder a lot of things- pride, family name, being the best of the best... These things were not what he wanted. As his family pushed him to the top, he gained everything that everybody ever wanted, power, fame, and wealth. People were jealous, resentful, bitter of his achievements, they all wanted to be just like him. Beneath these cloaks was a man who longed for love, affection, happiness... But never has he gotten even a single drop of it. Trying to cast aside his past, he reincarnated after he died in a cold-blooded war. Still wanting love, affection, and happiness, he now seeks to get it all. In a world filled with magic, monsters, and swords he wants a chance to meet his desires in his second life. Now born as Alexander Hollows, he will create a path full of life... But never has he thought that so many challenges will face him from now on. With the help of the ones he trusts the most, they will discover what actually hides beneath the peace and prosperity of the new world, they will find the shadow that lurks beneath them. As the people around him discover and accept the truth of their own world will they also accept Alex's mysterious past? I'm only a beginner at writing and english is not my first language so please be considerate of my spelling and grammar errors. I have many ideas flowing in my head so please be patient while the plot slowly builds itself. I will give you more info on this novel later. Disclaimer: I do not own the cover! All credits to the creator of the cover! Any Pictures I put in the chapters do not belong to me!Concluída
D R O W N
we want to burn and die to fill the page as delicate words and memories and what we want what we need in life is more poetry and less pain but it's only a glimpse into a forbidden world a beautiful scene sharp to the touch so take your look if you can bear it so take my hand if you will hold it and taste the words ------------------------------------------------------ some rhyme less poetry and mindless murmurings for you to drown in. all of these poems are regrets, things i wish i said to people but never could.Concluída
Trapped in my Worst Novel
Protagonists, the most important characters in stories. They're the ones that are supposed to save the world and be a symbol of hope for humanity, the ones that can defeat anything in their way if they want to, the ones whom the reader wants to win and succeed... ...Well atleast thats how a good heroic protagonist should be. I wrote three novels after dropping out of college at 20 years old. My first novel was a disaster, boring characters, recycled plot, and a protagonist so rude even I wanted to punch them. The next two? Absolutely amazing and really well-liked. I was ready to quit writing for good when i suddenly got hit by a car and woke up in someone else's body, someone i don't recognize at all, who goes to the exact same school from my first novel. Yeah. That happened, i'm screwed. Great. Now I'm stuck in a world full of arrogant, clueless students. Why couldn't i have entered one of my better stories?! And if that's not enough, the soul of this body won't stop yelling at me to "give their body back", as if i could do that, while a tiny version of them sits on my left shoulder and a tiny version of my 19 year old self from my past life rides the right shoulder. What even is happening anymore? Sigh...
Thoughts of a Juvenile
Words are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hobby is an activity we do to express ourselves, our beliefs and our thinking. For example through drawing, dancing, singing, etcetera. Writing a poem is one of such hobbies. Here words are used. These words and messages are far more twisted. A poem hits the mind, a good poem hits the heart. Thoughts Of A Juvenile is just a collection of my poems.I started writing poems when I was 8. I may not be a great writer. But yeah I write to express. There have been times for me like many other teenagers where I thought I was lost and helpless. There have been good times too. I'm standing on the edge of teenage now, telling you that you can survive this. You can survive everything. All you need is to find your strengths. There are sad nights and then there are mornings full of opportunities. Don't give up. I'm here and I'll always be here. Whenever you feel down just remind yourself "Be stupid". Go out in public and the eat the food you like alone, ask out your crush, flirt like there's no one watching, dance like a ghost has possessed your body, prank people, have a little chat with the nerds you know. Surviving is an art not many can master. Be a Master. There are mistakes in this book and I tried my best to correct them. But couldn't correct them all. I would really love to receive reviews and criticism. Vote if you like it. Comment your views. And follow for more poems. Add it to your reading list or library.Concluída
You Were Always a Daydreamer Draft Version
When you're forced to mask Reality with Fantasy. The lifted layers finally unveil the tombstone of self. The biggest cities into the tiniest pebbles The massive ideas and thoughts formed into merely something to fear. A protagonist who already forgot his name Remembers He is a Daydreamer. Which is the only way to cope with life after multiple tragedies. And the fraud on fake friends faces. Only to daydream. As losing touch takes a toll on that rotting indulgence slowly. This get's quite horrific as it goes on. It's not to enjoy but to reflect on and experience. I decided to publish the draft version, because I don't think I can fully finish YWAADD final edition any time soon. I am in the worst mental and emotional state ever. It's quite a struggle and I suffer heavily. So yeah, the polished draft kind of holds up aswell too. The final one is way longer and eventful. So, um yeah I don't expect this to get attention at all, it's kind of really mid in some parts. But enjoy, or don't I guess. Yes this was inspired by Everywhere At The End Of Time. And other fan projects.Concluída
Strands of your mind cling together like web to a slippery leaf bathed in the morning dew. You have seen both heaven and hell, witnessed the atrocities of war firsthand, and imagined a better life in the deepest, most intimate corners of your dreaming spirit. The wishes for peace and certainty you have once so desperately longed for, now lay trampled underneath the might of your mind's vivid horrors. What was once so bright and lively, now cowers in fear, clinging to gone memories like a shipwreck survivor to some lowly piece of driftwood. From the depths of hell, you arrived victorious, grasping the laurel wreath high above your head. Unrecognizable, with your empty eyes telling a story of innocence brutally taken away from the child curling in shame in the depths of your empty soul. Almost green you are, curly head, having grown up with a rifle by your bedside table, never knowing peace and quiet. Out of the pan that was the Kazdel Civil War and into the scorching flames of Lungmen, where life flows by on its own accord, here, you must learn to live once more. So put on your best facade, Let the reuniting trumpets ring a wild, And allow the city to swallow you whole. Here we are, a continuation of my previous work "Goodbye Curly Head", which sprawled into quite the epistle (but it wasn't really a letter, it's just long :P). Summarized in the most basic way possible, it's a story about a twenty-year-old Kazdel Civil War veteran who goes to Lungmen and has some troubles acclimating to the steady life presented before him. Sprinkle in a too-good-to-be-true offer and a freshly established logistics company, and you get Andy trying to make it big for as long as his deteriorating mental state lets him. I'd say it works as a standalone story for anyone who doesn't want to bother reading the first part. For now, at least. As always, please, pwwease leave a comment, positive, negative, I LOOOVE reading and replying to comments!!
Mais detalhesDiretrizes de Conteúdo