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looking for writeblrs to follow!

i’ve been having a hard time finding more writers to follow since my accidental hiatus, so like/reblog if you'd like me to check your writeblr out! (reblogs are greatly appreciated!)

bonus points if you regularly talk about your WIPs! i want to hear about your projects so i can support them!

Dros' story

Hey guppies, I have got a new Fish food to feed you! And please if you have any comment, questions, or requests I am happy to answer!

Anyway enjoy my first chapter of my new story, and please help me come up with a name for it.

Hey, my names Dros and I know I am a robot and have an incredibly good-looking face, Not. It's a long and painful story that did not make me a hero or a villain, so I basically spit in that common and overused tropes face. Right now I am practicing with my band, Us drum players don't get enough love. As luck would have it, we have a show tomorrow, and we keep getting more and more people to play too, I guess in Gotham the word goes around fast. I am happy, of course, but I have to hide myself. Let's get real, we all hide our true face anyway, so what difference does it make? And thank the killable God that am an atheist and that they think my face is just some cool mask I made myself. Anyway, back to the jam session that I am killing it in right now. And now the songs over, great. “Looks like it's late”, the basic metal lead guitar and singer said…. Just kidding, his name is Fluffy,” let's pack it up for today.” And so, like the nice person I am, I helped clean up and packed my shit up. I said my goodbyes to my guys, girls, and nonbinary sibling in arms. I walked with them to the door, but since I live where we practice, so I don't go any farther.  The studio is owned by me. I am one of the last radio hosts in Gotham, but since it pays like ass, I hack and do IT on the side. The studio has two floors, downstairs is where the magic happens, and upstairs is where the studio room and radio equipment are. Neon lights are in every room and light everything in my domain but the bathroom, I don't use the bathroom, so what's the point? It's hard wood downstairs and carpet upstairs to lessen noise from footsteps while on air. I live in Gotham, so you bet your pale flat ass I got cameras in every corner of this place.

The last person leaves and I sigh in relief. I got to go shopping because I need a new charger and cat food for the strays outside. I get my bag and grabbed cheese and cringe skate board and ride my way to my fav convince store. The air is warm from the energy from the building and the sky is black, but the city lights keep everything alive. As I am getting closer, I see something move in the alleyway next to me. And like the white hoodie wearing robot I am, I go to check it out. Is that the red helmet fucker? He just parked his motorcycle and immediately started to climb that building to my left, without looking over to see my dumbass. The big shit didn't see me. That fucker broke my old stake board that was fresh as fuck. The red helmet fucker threw it at some purse snatcher instead of getting off his lazy as and catching him. My poor baby was broke in two! Suddenly a light bulb showed itself on my screen. You know what, I think I have some spray paint in my bag. Am going to tag his shit. I take my spray can out and began to work my magic. When am done, I put a clear coat on that shit and a finish coat. Good luck fucker, that shit is staying on. Well now that's done, I feel better. My child has been revenged. I then got on my cringe stake board and dipped. I made my way to Miss Jar’s store and walked in.” Dros, you better wipe your damn feet.” Miss Jar yelled from behind the counter.” Hello to you, too.” I said back.” have you been eating?” Miss Jar asked me.” yes, and thank you for caring.” I answered. “ Well someone has to, lord knows you don't.” she quipped back. “ I just need two things then am gone, and look the doors on my way out. I saw one of those mask wearing heroes on my way here.” I knew where everything was, so this would be quick. Furthermore, I got my shit and left after saying goodbye to my wannabe grand mama.  On my way home, I noticed the red helmet guy's bike was gone. I went inside and called it a night. 

  Then I woke up the next morning and bid my morning routine.” Man, I want coffee.” and because I am a slut for the shit, that's exactly I did. I got my shit to together and went to the closest and best coffee shop in town, Merry Ants. As I rode into the shop, I noticed the sad look on Marry’s face. “ Hey, what's wrong?” I asked the young woman. “ Dros! It's nice to see you. I am sorry but, … today is the last day that we are in business. That means this is the last time you can get coffee here,” Ant said with a sad smile on her face.” what? That's so sad! I love you guys!” I complained, displaying and frowny face on my screen. “ Well, here is your usual. Enjoy”, she told me. I grab my coffee and left. Just as I turned the corner, THE FUCKING BATMAN shoves me and spills my coffee all over my white hoodie. I have a show in a couple of hours. That was Ant’s coffee too :( .

It's okay, I will just get another one. I walked back to Merry Ant’s. “ Hey, marry? Am back! Some asshole spilled my coffee all over me.” I said, walking in to get another coffee. “ Am sorry there is no more coffee, after that superhero crashed into my store. I gave you the last thing we had.” she said.” What! That's why you have to close?” I asked. “ Yea, I don't have the money for new supplies or to fix the damage, and since I still owed payments on the building so the people I bought it off of want all the money owed up front…. Am sorry, am rambling.” she looked like she was about to cry. Oh no, I get stressed out when people cry. What the hell do I do? Am too anti-social for this! “It's okay, am a friend and that's what friends are for.” I said trying to pass this charisma skill check. “ Your hoodie! I can fix it for your show!” she stated wide-eyed. “ You really don't have too but please?” I asked, “It's easy, but it's a family secret I got from my mom!” she said to me. I pulled my hoodie off and gave it to her. She took it to the back and when she came back my hoodie was whiter than ever! “ Thank you so much and you're the best!” I said as I pulled on my hoodie and walked out the door. I made my way to miss jar’s store to get “breakfast” or at least that's what I tell her, but I really just want to talk. She is like a grandmother to me. She makes me behave. “ Good morning” I yelled at her.” I may be old, but I can still hear just fine, did you hear about Ants? Let me tell you! Someone's got to show those superheros and villains that us common folk will make them pay for the destruction and lives they ruin.” Miss Jar yells at me, but I don't take it to heart, she is old and going deaf.

But maybe she is right. Maybe it’s time for someone to make a none violent move movement to help the world.

Reblog if you think fanfiction is a legitimate form of creative writing.

“Friends”

Don’t ever let the words get

into your soul

Don’t ever let the poison spread

into our body

I know its hard and I know 

there’s pain

But just let it wash away

Let just forget and began like it 

was yesterday

For all I knew is that we used to

be friends

His poems

 His words echoed through the room making it fall quiet. Everyone was there just to hear him. Him and his poetry.  Everyone wanted to feel connected that's why they were there. But his poetry didn’t just bring the satisfaction of being understood, it also brought the relief of being able to fly through words.  His comical answers made the heartbroken feel better and farther away from the pain they were trying to escape. The lovestruck enjoyed his writing resting their heads together with thin lips. And his deep poetry brought restless admiration for those who longed creativity. But no one was as bewildered as the girl who was on the first chair rested against the wall. How could he write so profound things in such little space she would never know. She laid her head on the armrest and let her mind drift with his voice.  She was immensely glad that she had found him and his poetry. She didn’t know she needed it until she read it. It’s an ache that only your touch can soothe was the first of his writings she ever read.  She had never known truer words. Her broken heart was slowly being fixing by his words. Lions was her favorite, but you couldn’t just have one favorite of his. His poetry could give you the strength that you needed any moment you could ask any person in the room present. The guy behind her knew just how much power his poetry had over people. Because he didn’t only talk about feelings of distraught, but of the moments you wouldn’t even describe because of how numbness had consumed your body. His favorite was  The guise and end-chills and while his body was giving away to ache his mind stilled longed for his poetry. The poetry that would wrap around you as if it was a blanket protecting you from the cold and harsh reality. Yes! That’s why they were here. They were here because he could bring them peace and let their minds rest and made them fall in love with his verse. But he was done now, his poems were all read and now everyone had to wait for another time when he would stand up again in the closed alleyway and speak about unspoken feelings. He waited for them to leave, but slowly everyone got to their feet with teary eyes and started chanting. Thank you! They had to make him feel appreciated because that’s how they felt when he read to them. They felt special. They felt that they could cry their heart out and he would just wipe away their tears with his lyric, slowly and compassionately. They had to make him feel special because who knows what he was feeling. Then calmly everyone started leaving making the crowded room desert. Lastly, the couple rose from their seats and looked at him with eyes full of admiration and they wished he would write some day about the feeling f happiness. Because they wanted him to feel it they wanted him to be as full as everyone was when they heard his voice. But they wouldn’t worry, they knew he would find the one even though he would face heartbreak. They knew someday his heart would be held as the most valuable possession on Earth and they just smiled at him. Because even though he didn’t know it great things were about to happen to him. Happiness was his way and his poems would tell that tale.

&&&

@jonaswpoetry you will someday amaze the world with your short, accurate poetry. You will resonate through the young generation’s, hearts and souls. Your words will connect with those broken and mend them and will find those who are lost. We have never met, but I hope that you are happy and have love in your life and I hope that your dreams come true.

And my heart was made out of paper and all you did was stand in front of me playing with matches in your hands and a smirk in your face

Timed Thoughts. 1:24am

drifting

i want to tell you. i want to scream at you, shake your shoulders and explain why i am like this. i want you to understand why i feel this way but then i look up to your eyes and suddenly a rope is tied around my throat and i can’t speak. my hand begins to shake so i hide them behind my back and i drop my eyes to the ground because if i continue looking at you i might cry and i don’t want to break in front of you. i really don’t. i want to be as strong as you are, but my bones are made out of paper that are easily crumpled while yours are never bending iron. my heart races and i know you’re about to tell me something to encourage me, but i can’t hear it. i can’t tell you because it’s all in my head and i’m terrified of letting you in and finally seeing me through my eyes. i still want to be the happy girl you think i am because i don’t want to be a burden. so i swallow my breath and smile. because even though im not fine i still have you and somehow that makes it worth it. because in a world where my mind is slowly crumbling and where my thoughts are the only things keeping me up at night i wouldn’t know how to handle if you put any space between us. just the same way a boat would float away purposelessly if the rope tying it to the deck cuts lose. the boat would just drift away and i don’t want us to stop

I'm crawling out of the sewer to say it again: don't let anyone stop you from writing what you want to write.

Don't let people saying your writing is too 'self indulgent' stop you.

Don't let people saying your writing is 'not original enough' stop you.

Don't let people saying 'you shouldn't write this' stop you.

Write what compels you.

Stared working on Locwitary with a full document that will contain ever lore piece and explanations for those pieces. I am also going into the detail of how the dream realms of this story work and how they are used to trap and create dimensional jails almost. I am having fun finally getting back into the creative spirit!!

That’s all I had to say have a good day and see you around!!!!

I haven't finished writing anything in so long, it feels like I've given up...

i wish i could share the mini movies i create in my head every time an idea pops into it, instead of opening my notes app, staring at the blank page for several minutes trying to find the right words to accurately describe every detail, and finally feeling immensely frustrated because i can't manage to put into coherent sentences what in my mind keeps playing over and over again, until i lose all hint of inspiration and the pattern repeats itself again as the hours go by. It really makes me sick.

Virginia Woolf’s Handwritten Suicide Note: A Painful and Poignant Farewell (1941)