Let Writers Ramble To You About Their Stories And They Will Forever Love You.

Let writers ramble to you about their stories and they will forever love you.

Random linguistic worldbuilding: A language with six sets of pronouns, which are set by one's current state of existence. There's a separate pronoun for people who are alive, people who are dead, and potential future people who are yet to be born, and the ambiguous ones of "may or may not be alive or aleady dead", "may or may not have even been born yet", and the ultimate general/ambiguous all-covering one that covers all ambiguous states.

The culture has a specific defined term for that tragic span of time when a widow keeps accidentally referring to their spouse with living pronouns. New parents-to-be dropping the happy surprise news of a pregnancy by referring to their future child with the "is yet to be born" pronoun instead of a more ambiguous one and waiting for the "wait what did you just say?" reactions.

Someone jokingly referring to themselves with the dead person pronouns just to highlight how horrible their current hangover is. A notorious aspiring ladies' man who keeps trying to pursue women in their 20s despite of approaching middle age fails to notice the insult when someone asks him when he's planning to get married, and uses the pronoun that implies that his ideal future bride may not even be born yet.

A mother whose young adult child just moved away from home for the first time, who continues to dramatically refer to their child with "may or may not be already dead" until the aforementioned child replies to her on facebook like "ma stop telling people I'm dead" and having her respond with "well how could I possibly know that when you don't even write to us? >:,C"

passion to perform - 20230420

People ask me what the difference is between the want to dance and the passion to perform

Dance is a thing you can achieve pretty easily, just go to a party

Performing is different, and by my interest

calling it the same would be ignorant, deliberate, inconsiderate

Comical and dumb like a figurant

I’d like you to consider it, euphoria like a recently-burnt cigaret,

Childhood preliterate, summer with a refrigerant,

Breathless, right after your first hit on a vape

A protection cape, an inevitable escape

From the man-made world, view the landscape

You work and you thrive, chasing your drive

It’s an amenity of life, I’m alive!

I’m alive, I’m alive, not surviving like I do every day,

Mostly sadness but small happy moments along the way,

No, I’m certain I’m alive now, this is a real life!

I’m lurking, overworking, dehydration and exhaustion alerting

My passion asserting, as I’m on the stage preserving

my name, my claim, my temporary arbitrary fame,

I refuse to be tame. I’m giving my all, no time to worry about shame

It’s like a midnight summer swim

I’m tired, breathless, thrilled, elated, euphoric, all on my personal whim

I only have once, so I better make it count

1 to 8 I count, taking the rhythm into account

The end is near, I’ve got no time to fear

I wanna focus on the now and here.

Time has run out? My performance has been sincere

Just five more lines,

I’m no longer confined

And there it is, the sugar I’ve been craving

The high I’ve been chasing, I’m chasing,

I’m chasing, I’m chasing

And then it stops; standing ovation.

Think of me - 20240619

Think of my name as the sirens you hear fleeting by,

you always hear it, but you never know why.

Think of my laughter as music you hear, birds singing as the day starts anew.

Think of my beliefs as something to be discarded, as are you.

Think of my body not as a temple, but mother nature that bounces back every time you try to hurt her,

always surviving any problems you stir, any attempt at murder.

Think of my face as a shirt you have of a band you've never heard,

you show it to everyone, but your lack of understanding of it is absurd,

after all, you don't realise the hours of effort I've put into making it pretty –

hours wasted in an attempt to make you less shitty.

Think of my mind as the ocean. The surface is shallow and fun with the beaches,

but no one has ever seen how deep it really is.

No one knows what monsters lie at the bottom, and the density there is too intense to escape without death.

Just like the ocean, my mind is of incomprehensible depth.

Think of me as a paradox, a living contradiction, an enigma, questions without end,

I'll see chaos as the answer, the only thing I can understand.