Graffiti Rock (A Short Story)
- Reads 39
- Votes 1
- Parts 1
Complete Thu, Aug 8, 2013<5 mins
Every person needs an outlet. It may not be an outlet for someone who is depressed and harms themselves, it could be for someone who doesn't know how to control their happiness.
Graffiti Rock is exactly that. It is a place that holds the secrets of many, and shares with those who only dare come into the abandoned location.
Graffiti Rock is not a rock, or a book or anything. It is just a place in our minds we choose not to discover. It is a place for the crazy, deranged, happy excited and sad.
But sadly, only a select number of people get to see the stories. The happy and sadness that lurks in everyone's head.
Are you one of them?
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
You may also like
Someone New ✓
"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboardComplete
Hidden Feelings Book 1 (Poetry) (Journaling)
It's just a bunch of songs I wrote when I was feeling mad or sad or extremely happy and motivated. Their just a bunch of lyrics formed from my emotions. I mean I was trying to figure out how to express myself so I started using rhymes to begin with. I mean some songs don't only have rhymes but most of my songs are rhymes with 4 or 6 lines and their all original works of mine so don't bother trying to steal them or anything. Also this is an add on I've started writing journal entries in here as well and I may put my two books together. My 'Ange's Journal', and 'Hidden Feelings' together. I don't know why, it's just a spur of the moment thing and a feeling I had. These are all my experiences and thoughts I've had but never said out loud. But if you don't like it or are offended by what I say your doing something wrong in life. But I guess it's also me just letting everything out and telling my story in an unorganized way, you know.Complete
Poetry Book 3
third poem collection. they aren't in any particular order or anything like that, and after 100, there will always be a new one. if you've been here a while, I'm sure you know the drill. now, about the cover. it was a random Thursday, and an old friend and I went to Cottonwood Island Park in PG. this bridge is covered in graffiti and writing, and it has been painted over to cover it up, or boards have been replaced to get rid of it. yet, there's always writing on this bridge. it felt like no matter what, nobody can silence the voices that need to be heard. and I felt that. anyways, please enjoy this chaotic collection of poetry. STARTED: March 2nd, 2021 FINISHED: January 18th, 2022Complete
It does get better.
People say it will get better. But to be fair, most of them never were in your place. They say you will get happy again, but how can they know? I've struggled with trauma, mental illnesses, and self harm for many years. These are (mostly) poems - about me and my journey of getting better. ! As this is about self harm and other previously mentioned topics, it might be triggering. I don't glorify it in any way, though. I'm also not a native English speaker. If you find any mistakes, please tell me so I can improve.
Trail Of Ashes ➳ Daryl Dixon
𝙎𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙩𝙤 "𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙇𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩" 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘭 𝘋𝘪𝘹𝘰𝘯/𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 Despite all of Marshall's efforts and the blood, sweat, and tears he shed alongside Rick and his group, the harsh reality of the new world can't be ignored forever. Everything, no matter how reinforced, can come crumbling down when enough pressure is applied. The worst part of it? He thought he'd finally found a home. He was building something here, something safe, with a new found family. With Daryl. Now it's back to square one. It'd be easier if he stopped getting his hopes up. It'd hurt less, but... that's not who Marshall is. That's not who he'll ever be. ＠Ｌｉｔｈｏｐｈｅｎｅ ｏｎ ＡＯ３ （Ａｒｃｈｉｖｅｓ Ｏｆ Ｏｕｒ Ｏｗｎ） Posted directly from Ao3. I am NOT the original Author.
First Light ➳ Daryl Dixon
𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘭 𝘋𝘪𝘹𝘰𝘯/𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 Marshall Hill was just an aspiring architect before The Turn forced him to become something else: a survivor. It hasn't been easy. For one reason or another, he always ends up alone. Everyone leaves him behind. He thought it would just be easier to try toughing through the grit alone to stay alive, but he can't keep avoiding people forever. With his supplies running low and his tremors getting worse, he has a decision to make. Can he trust a new group of strangers? Can he open himself up and learn to feel safe again? It feels so far away, but, honestly? He thinks he'd be better off dead than alone. SECOND BOOK IS UP! ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴅᴀʀʏʟ/ᴏᴍᴄ ＠Ｌｉｔｈｏｐｈｅｎｅ ｏｎ Ａｒｃｈｉｖｅｓ Ｏｆ Ｏｕｒ Ｏｗｎ （ＡＯ３） Posted directly from Ao3. I am NOT the original Author.Complete
An Outlet: Part 2
This piece of writing is mostly for myself. I want this to act as my journal. I've always tried to see life from others' perspective. I think it's time to see it from mine. This can act as a rough draft of my life. If you're very nosy and want to know how someone else lives the real life, feel free to read it. It's raw, it's unfinished, it's my outlet. Part 2.Complete
The Cataclysm (Rick Grimes x male OC) REWRITE
People don't arrive broken. They start with passion and yearning, till something comes along that disabuses them of those notions. Some people stay broken. Some pick up the pieces and put them back together with all the sharp edges showing. Every great decision creates ripples, like a huge boulder after being dropped in a lake. The ripples merge and rebound off the banks in unforeseeable ways. The heavier the decision, the larger the waves, the more uncertain the consequences. (active updates + active revisions)
"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboard
More detailsContent Guidelines