Somethings Wrong
- Leituras 52
- Votos 0
- Capítulos 4
Em andamento11m
Última atualização qui, abr 14, 2016
Something is wrong with me. This is the truth behind why I'm so screwed up. Why I am what I am. A messed up 18 year-old boy with an unstable yet supposedly brilliant mind. A complete fuck up in school even though everyone tells me I'm smart. Why I always used to associate sex with love.
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In the works
Logic is fucked and goddamn thoroughly bendable to anybody with the preference and ability to do so this shit is neither logical nor illogical it's simply pretentious as fuck My first writings as of the age of 16.Concluída
Unrequited Love for No One in Particular
I'm in love with no one, but with that emptiness comes freedom for my heart to wander along with my mind.Concluída
My First Journal
ALL THINGS THAT HAPPENED ARE REAL. THIS IS NOT FICTION. A diary documenting my final year of high school. Recently life has become this very strange television like reality for me. I went from invisible to involved. This is an entirely true account of my life, not a work of fiction and I want to share with you how weird life has gotten for me.Concluída
My Tongue Is A Pen Of A Ready Writer
Here are a collection of poetry I have written within my teenage years, early adult life . I hope you all enjoy.Concluída
Noah (Obsessions in Overdrive #1)
I've always had a feeling that I would die young. Ever since I started pondering on deaths door I've had this feeling. I could care less about the hell and heaven shenanigans, but death. I want it. The end of my life. I want to be in my suit, in my coffin, in the ground and my soul to be gone. I've been waiting for 16 years, yet no sign of death opening his door no matter how many times I ring his doorbell. Yeah, I enjoy thinking about my end. Especially at moments like this... *** #1 physical #1 cuteguys #1 addiction #2 self-esteem *** Started: 7 November 2022 Finished: 18 April 2024Concluída
Release
This is a collection of my writing from the past 7 years. Before I started to write, I was a very lost individual, as are most teens, but I was lost in darkness. I was too afraid to move anywhere at all. I hid in the dark, debilitated by my own anxiety, sadnesses, anger, and hopelessness. I was desperate to be loved and feared it the most, I was a coward, I was self-destructive, I would mentally bend my thoughts to the point of bordering insanity. I was born into this world alone, and got too comfortable with it. Maybe I still am, but a fraction of what I used to be. This writing is extremely vulnerable, and potentially disturbing to others, as all my weaknesses, strengths, obsessions with making every moment sentimental, the sickening desperation I've had, the destructiveness, and the constant brutal reconstruction of my mind. Without guidance, it's been absolute intense chaos. Though, there is beauty in the darkness. Everything can be found in the darkness. You'll find that through my writing, I've somehow slowly become exactly what I've written. A living representation of my writing and what I wanted to be. Without myself even knowing it. A lot of my writing themes are based around nature, or some kind of natural aspect. The imagery I paint with natural metaphors is constant, the animals, just like you and I, the plants, and all other living things. I planted these seeds in my mind, unknowingly at the time, where I now feel the deep dark green jungle pressing at the inner walls of my skull. It's all that I want to consume my mind. There's so much to learn. The magic of nature, and it's infinite wisdom. It's as if I have been on this path all along, and I didn't even know what I was doing, yet my body and mind were passively taking care of me. Giving me and eventually showing exactly what I want, and wanted to become. I have every moment, every instance of suffering, and every epiphany to be thankful for. Soon, I'll be at peace from the raging storm.Concluída
Fallen (Undergoing editing)
I never thought it would end like this. I always thought I had a home. I always thought I had a family, but as it turns out, my past is darker than the lies they told me and the truth they kept from me.Concluída
Stop, Your Silence is Killing Me!
My first collection of poetry, containing deep poems about Suicide, Depression, Love, Hate, Despair, Bullying. And just about any topic you'd like. -Completed- ©Peacefulrock2014Concluída
Logic is fucked and goddamn thoroughly bendable to anybody with the preference and ability to do so this shit is neither logical nor illogical it's simply pretentious as fuck My first writings as of the age of 16.
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