Anonymous asked: Marry me.
At 2 in the morning, after your friends text you bitter good nights, who is left? One of the bitter texts, recently received is from a girl you wish you could call your own. You want to go after her but something says no. Some days you think she likes you. Other days you tell yourself,”of course not!”. I can’t let the overthinking start. I sit up, open the wooden blinds, peaking outside. My house is located in a culdesac. Smack dab in the middle-lower portion, empty lots on either side. The house is upper-middle class, the front made of brick. 170 years ago, this land was an Indian burial ground. The Cherokees were the last of a dying breed in Ohio before industrialization took over. Damn shame. I get on Tumblr. Feed consists of: cliché quote about unrequited love, gif of a couple from an ABC Family drama making out on a bed, a reblogged text post about feminism or how Elsa from Frozen is more attractive then your average American. Everything’s so predictable nowadays. It seems stability can come from every source except one’s mind. My therapist tells me not to single myself out, in reference to my emotions. “In those early morning hours when you contemplate and discover, think of people and not just yourself. This establishes a direct connection with yourself and society and not just you on the outside looking in. Cheer up pal.” Did I mention my therapist is fucking terrible? I wonder what she meant when she text me “mmmm sleep goodnight”. Usually there’s more. Not much more, but more. Maybe I did something- said something today that upset her. She was a but quiet today. Fuck, she doesn’t like me. I can hear my dad snoring. Dad is always telling my brothers and I about his vivid, creepy dreams. He once had a dream he was standing out in a cornfield. The land around him was flat, due to the corn being cut down or the land being plowed… The flat land was in the form of a circle. A few feet away from was a pentagram. In the middle of the pentagram was a massive ape- 10 feet in height. Dad said he could see the ape’a back and shoulders move up and down as it inhaled and exhaled, inhaled and exhaled. The ape started to slowly turning around, only moving it’s neck and head. Right as it’s oil black eyes were about to look at dad he woke up, screaming “Jesus”. I think that means something. Why do people still text? Everything can be taken out of context or under/over exaggerated. That’s it, maybe I’m looking too into things. I feel like an English teacher. You know when you finish reading a book in English and you do class discussions and the teacher analyzes every single word? My English teacher does that a lot. That’s me but with almost everything. It’s the curse of my generation.
A poor man wants to be rich
A rich man wants to be richer
Ask the vagabond if he’s content with sleeping on the floor
Surely he wants more?
He gets benefits it’s part of the law.
Surely he wants more?
So he can be a poor man
Wanting to be rich.
That rich man will never want to be poor
But “money’s is the root of evil” argues the poor man
However money was created by the people.
And no man wants to be lethal.
Anonymous asked: Hello! I decided to take a english creative writing class and for my final I have to write a short story. I am having a lot trouble coming up with a topic to write about and since you are so good at writing I was wondering if maybe you could suggest something? :)
Hey there! I’m extremely flattered that you’d come to me for help :)
Here are a few ideas:
- An excerpt from the journal of the last human survivor on earth
- Our reaction after a single religion is proven to be true
- Someone tapes the winning lottery ticket to a random page of a book in a New York City bookstore
- A man’s struggle as he falls in love for the first time after the death of his husband
- We wake up one day to find money has started growing on trees
I hope you see something that you like!
Anonymous asked: do you have a girlfriend?
I sure do.
Into the dark
Hand in hand
Hold on tight
We’ll find our way
truthtrigger asked: How do you so coyly capture the thoughts my mind whimpers to wield light but can barely remember?
I live in these thoughts that barely see the light of day.I breathe these ideas that only scratch the surface of our minds.