I am female (suprise, suprise), I'm nineteen, and I can explain almost nothing about myself. The best I can give you is: paradox.
Extra info on my stories/poems:
Bus Stop Epiphany: I have no idea where this came from. Seriously. I've never been in this situation...any of them. I just started writing one day and this is what came out. I'm interested to see what kind of reaction it gets.
Draw me a picture: Written most definitely from my perspective, this semi-autobiographical. Gives me jitters in my stomach just from reading it again. Now with sequel.
Death of the party: I was listening to Nelly Furtado's song called 'Party' and I just started writing. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue, but I like thinking about all the places it could go.
Never dreamt it: An English assignment. I had to have a fight, a shopping mall, and a death. I think I scared my English teacher...and I even cut stuff out that I thought might bother her...
Before it kills her: Some poems that I wrote. The first one written in a fit of teenage angst, the second came from one thing that I love and one thing that I hate, the third is about me and my sis.
The house on heron street: Another English assignment...these poor English teachers. I had to write about a house. So I wrote as though I was the house. Much more interesting.
Mirrors, walls: Written in another dramatic fit of teen angst. But contrary to my usual procedure at these times I actually tried to write well.
The broken hallway: Poem that I wrote. I have no idea. It came to me in the shower.
Dreaming: Just a short ... something. Based off of Sleeping Beauty.
Mining for beauty: Again, based off of Sleeping Beauty. No, I don't have an unhealthy tendency to use that particular fairy tale. One of the first stories I wrote that actually had an end. I'm quite proud of it, actually. Oh, another one written for my poor English teacher...
My life in A minor: An attempt at an actual story that involves chapters. Yeah, that's failing miserably. I have a little written for chap three but it all needs to be edited and planned out. I still like the idea though, so don't be suprised if it suddenly starts pouring out chapters. But don't be suprised if it doesn't either.
Brave little sailor: A friend of mine wrote a poem about lust, and this was my response. Make of it what you will.
A Dream of You and Me: Sequel to 'Draw Me a Picture'. Moving on from dreams. Again, semi-autobiographical.
An Adventure All Our Own: A poem written about a road trip. Ah, just thinking about it makes me happy!
Last Night: A poem springing from my crazy hardcore straight edge self and my dear pot smoking, beer drinking buddies.
Onomatopoeia: A disjointed poem that swam out of my mind.
A Whole Lot of Lucky: Right now, my favorite poem. Written for my best friend. I don't know if anyone else will be affected by it the way we are.
Train Process/Thought Wreck: This poem sprang from the prompt "I don't know...". The first attempt was really, really sucky...but then later I was driving in my car...and this popped out.
Meglomaniac: Of course, this poem is not auto-biographical... poetry NEVER is. Duh. (liiiiiiiiiesssss)
Yeah, that's about it.
"Chocolate Herrings are Impure."
FictionPress.com - let the words flow
