sjsprWriting

Most of his music came from her. Her black eyes. Her long, undulating hair. Her pallid face. Her thick, pink lips.

He imagined her as he heard the soft sounds in his head. Sounds like her slow whispers, her faint laughter, her delicate exhales.

He never quite wrote well when she was not present in his thoughts.

Instead, every single note was dissonant – uncouth to the ears. Rampant like the words of an angry man.

No, no. He could not write without her.

...

Dear Mr. Young Pine Tree,

You will die. Your life will be cut short by a sweaty lumberjack and your corpse will be made into a public display.

But you should be thankful, because you probably wouldn't exist in the first place had it not been for the demand for your adult corpse. In the end, you should accept your death with dignity and the knowleedge that your sacrifice will make many people very happy.

Teach me something worth knowing.

Teach me how to love without conditions, a rare condition nowadays.

Teach me what it takes to be beautiful

Not pretty, but beautiful

The kind that emanates through the eyes

Teach me how to say no, when everyone is saying yes

Teach me to speak up for what to believe and not just raise my hand

Teach me how to walk away from that person I loved unconditionally,

when I know it’s for the best.

At one point in each cycle of our planet, we each have a day which we celebrate our existence and others grace one with gifts, again, to celebrate completing a cycle with out leaving our existence. In some cases, there are gatherings of minimal or mass proportions, where those of you who have created a emotional connection with--- or not----come together to bring all the gifts at once and grace, you with their presence. You celebrate with activities that ...

I want to write in the spaces between the lines of a novel, so that my words can
               
 p     us  h  

 around    and    

make  s pa ce      for  themselves,

but still be surrounded by the great words of past authors before me.

I want to write...

El invierno que tocaba a un otoño que fenecía,

alertó en mi ser la angustia y rencor.

Y me quedé con las manos vacías;

desaloje de mi vida aquel desamor.

Otoño, estación que al amor escondías,

pleitesía te tri...

Billy Bob stood there in heaven, looking down on everyone. He saw what had become of the world  after his passing. His ill-fated death at the hands of an angry door-to-door salesman who mistook his predicating for competition had allowed him to see how vital his existence was. Fire and brimstone now rained over his home state of Alabama. Alabama needed him.

He took his ten-gallon hat, his shotgun, his pipe, and his Bible, and set off to rid Alabama of atheism. Unfortunately, he was...

Kvon was in the schoolbus, expecting to go to the forest - expecting to learn about  atopic as exciting as leaves.  All his life he had loves leaves. He could name all the types of elaves by memory. He was an expert. He wanted nothing more but to continue learning.

You could imagine his shock and dismay when the bus suddenly switched directions and went to the toy store.

"What the hell is this? This isn't even educational... who the hell thought this would be a good idea...

I didn't necessarily think I'd miss you.

Need you.

Think of you.

And now I'm pretty much withering away, along with the previous, idealized thoughts of our happiness.

All I feel is regret.

Maybe I said the wrong thing.

Touched the wrong place in your already sinking heart.

Maybe I thought too much, and spoke too little.

I always assured you that I was fine. "I'm just awkward," I'd say, with a crack in the back of my throat, disguised as a nervou...

I know you know about heartache because the girl you loved left you for him.

I think you knew she never loved you like you loved her.

Maybe we know when people share our same intensity and passion.

I think about how I don’t really know you and how hesitant you are when it comes to me.

And yet how willing I am to let you know me and how open I am when it comes to you.

I don't think either of us know about measures and stopping at the right time.

How...