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Jupiter Sunrise Forum    Talk    Talk Amongst Yourselves    Writting « Previous topic | Next topic » Pages: 1 ... 23 24 25 26 27  ...  48 Reply Notify of replies Send Topic Print    Author  Topic: Writting  (Read 6450 times) NOXsucks30 YaBB God/goddess www.retroimg.co m   wicked awsome art     Gender: Posts: 4309 Re: Writting « Reply #360 on: Jun 30th, 2003, 8:53pm » Quote Modify that was really good ash. i liked it   i was just reading some of my old posts on this thread...wow can my writting change like that *snaps fingers*.... IP Logged And what you've got means such a lot to me Someone to love, Somebody new. Someone to love, Someone like you. ~The Beatles Ashley YaBB God/goddess www.brianmay.co m     Gender: Posts: 3311 Re: Writting « Reply #361 on: Jun 30th, 2003, 8:56pm » Quote Modify lol kristine i was reading some of my old posts yesterday too, JS telepathy strikes again!     PS kristine and dave i liked your last ones. IP Logged Love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares us to change our way of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure. NOXsucks30 YaBB God/goddess www.retroimg.co m   wicked awsome art     Gender: Posts: 4309 Re: Writting « Reply #362 on: Jun 30th, 2003, 8:58pm » Quote Modify yay for the telepathy! lol..... and thanks ash.. IP Logged And what you've got means such a lot to me Someone to love, Somebody new. Someone to love, Someone like you. ~The Beatles RockChica02 YaBB God/goddess Actions are immoral, opinions are not.     Gender: Posts: 4144 Re: Writting « Reply #363 on: Jul 2nd, 2003, 8:42pm » Quote Modify Okay, stupid story I wrote..... it uses lyrics from Dashboard Confessional's "Brilliant Dance" which explain the situation perfectly.   "So this is odd,   the painful realization that has all gone wrong.   And nobody cares at all,   and nobody cares at all."   'No, I don't think I can do this anymore,' his voice was so cold and uncaring, not the bouncing voice with a smile always behind it. Why was he dumping em over the phone? Who stole my best friend who'd just become my boyfriend and replaced him with someone I didn't know at all. The boy who kissed me in front of everyone and ran away without a word before he even asked me out. ... this wasn't the boy I loved.   "So you buried all your lover's clothes   and burned the letters lover wrote,   but it doesn't make it any better.   Does it make it any better?   And the plaster dented from your fist   in the hall where you had your first kiss   reminds you that the memories will fade."     I stared at my hand, it was a sickening pale white surrounded by intricate patterns of bright red. It didn't hurt a lot, not at first. I had no choice but to react how I did. My friend dragged me down those side stairs and I passed by the place he'd take me to. My mind blurred at the same time as my eyes. I felt my arm pull back and let go, full force into that wall. I wanted that wall to feel the same pain I felt inside my heart, I wanted all those memories I had to fade with that punch. All I got from it was a bruised hand, but at least I finally cried tears of pain for something other than a broken heart.   "So this is strange,   our sidestepping has come to be a brilliant dance   where nobody leads at all,   where nobody leads at all."   I thought it was perfect. Our perfect friendship which turned to the perfect courtship. He got me out of an abusive relationship. He wooed me by making me mixed tapes and playing the bass for me. He brought me to his church and helped me find the God I'd lost years before. He opened by eyes to the world I'd never seen before just as I had shown him things he'd never seen before. But in reality, we were leading each other down what seemed the path of least resistance. In reality we were slowly pulling each other apart at the seams. We weren't ready for what was going on and we lost ourselves in the process.   "And the picture frames are facing down   and the ringing from this empty sound   is deafening and keeping you from sleep.   And breathing is a foreign task   and thinking's just too much to ask   and you're measuring your minutes by a clock that's blinking eights."   I remember not sleeping. Staring the ceiling and seeing his face smiling at me. I could see the two of us skanking at the Five Iron Frenzy concert. I saw him comforting me when I had a bad headache and he gently brought my head to his shoulder. I saw the first time he ever kissed me and how I'd thoght it was all a dream. Then I'd look on my wall and see the picture of the two of us smiling huge smiles though we were both tired. I don't remember myself being that happy before that time or even after. He made me whole, my entire exsistance is held inside his hand. Sometimes I feel like I can't live without knowing that he still thinks about me sometimes. I catch my breath and hold it for what seems like ever when I think about the fact that he probably barely remembers anything we shared.   "This is incredible.   Starving, insatiable,   yes, this is love for the first time.   Well you'd like to think that you were invincible.   Yeah, well weren't we all once before we felt loss for the first time?   Well this is the last time."   'I've never been in love, but you're the closest I've come.' I don't remember when my heart started beating again after I read that IM on my screen. I had to re-read it 20 or so times to make sure I had gotten it all right. That night I cried more than I have for any othr boy on the planet. I read through every note he'd ever given me that I still keep in my drawer to this very day. I was the closest thing he had to love, but then he pushed me away. He has barely talked to me since he left at the end fof my sophomore year to spend a year in California. And then he says this in one of the few conversations we've had since. This was after the pain, the tears and the thoughts I had. That was the final nail in the coffin, the brutal fairytale ending of the book of us.   I smiled a little smile when I read his away message, he has a new girlfriend that he can't stop talking about. It's funny, he'd kissed a few girls since me, but I was his last girlfriend before now. 3 1/2 years of me being his last. I wonder if he ever thought about that. I had two boyfriend after him, but his was always on my mind, in some ways he still is after all these years. People can say what they want, but I loved him. Part of me will always love him. I know now that he will never feel the same way I did, I guess I will never know exacrly how he really did feel. He will always be my first, the first boy I ever truly loved. Maybe someday I will get up the nerve to tell him that.   IP Logged "Of all the shooting stars I knew, I never fell for anyone but you..."- Ozma "One night I met you as the rain glistened in the shine of your eyes."- Melee .irony.is.for.suckers. NOXsucks30 YaBB God/goddess www.retroimg.co m   wicked awsome art     Gender: Posts: 4309 Re: Writting « Reply #364 on: Jul 2nd, 2003, 9:22pm » Quote Modify oh val... that was REALLY (lack of a better term) good... wow... thats...just...like wow... i dont believe...lol i did a few of those, writting a story to lyrics, but they were all love stories with billy boyd   ... yes im a dork.... but yours are way better than mine are val! i really enjoyed that.. IP Logged And what you've got means such a lot to me Someone to love, Somebody new. Someone to love, Someone like you. ~The Beatles Ashley YaBB God/goddess www.brianmay.co m     Gender: Posts: 3311 Re: Writting « Reply #365 on: Jul 4th, 2003, 12:17am » Quote Modify yeah that was awesome val, it was awesome how you combined perfectly all the emotion that carabba put into the lyrics with all your own passion about your experience.  I really liked the format of it, how it went back and forth.  I've also done stuff like that before but it never turned out that great. IP Logged Love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares us to change our way of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure. Ashley YaBB God/goddess www.brianmay.co m     Gender: Posts: 3311 bRe: Writting « Reply #366 on: Jul 4th, 2003, 10:09pm » Quote Modify I just wrote this just now so probably not much good but if i've talked to you at all today it should be easy to figure out what characters it's talking about...   Beautiful For a Blind Man   Catch me if you can, I won't hold back Because i think i may have met my match. Touch my arm again, unclasp my wrist Feel it make a fist.. I'm not a warrior, no I just won't become a victim again If it looks like i'm hiding, it's just until...   I don't understand you, it makes no sense For me to let you be this intense You're not the bad guy but you still want me Though you can't see I'm not a warrior, no I just won't become a victim again If it seems like i'm holding back it's just until...   There's something alike between me and you Both veiled in the first drops of rain But you pull away until i make you stay Keep me locked in your chain   Catch me if you can, i can't hold back Because i think you may have met your match Rain on me again, make it the same I'll tell you my name You leave me in a daze To find me in a smoky haze When i find myself just wanting to look beautiful for a blind man IP Logged Love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares us to change our way of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure. NOXsucks30 YaBB God/goddess www.retroimg.co m   wicked awsome art     Gender: Posts: 4309 Re: Writting « Reply #367 on: Jul 5th, 2003, 8:11pm » Quote Modify wow ash....that was, totally awsome.... just... i think an SB quote can sum this up for me uh, i..oh..uh.er..a..erm...im gonna buy you a pizza   .. that rocked IP Logged And what you've got means such a lot to me Someone to love, Somebody new. Someone to love, Someone like you. ~The Beatles wisensmart336 YaBB God/goddess "Do you know the muffin man?"     Gender: Posts: 746 Re: Writting « Reply #368 on: Jul 9th, 2003, 8:40am » Quote Modify Cold winter bitter and harsh   falling snow white and new, soon gives way to growing spring blooming flowers and green grown things next the summer heat, unbreathable hummidity high and sweat is deep autumn, follows soon after a brisk wind a bright sun autumn shows us though its dying, still it is beautiful. And so we come back to winter still cold and harsh   The circle has gone around and we are at the begining, or at the end. IP Logged if the sun refused to shine I'd still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea there will still be you and me. one eyed jacks won I'd jax I'm makin' 1 eyed jaks. pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt. NOXsucks30 YaBB God/goddess www.retroimg.co m   wicked awsome art     Gender: Posts: 4309 Re: Writting « Reply #369 on: Jul 9th, 2003, 6:36pm » Quote Modify wow scott... awsome stuff   ive been slacking on my writting, doing too much artwork...but when doing art i dont think as much about stuff ... i dont wanna think about, so i think ill stick with that a bit longer IP Logged And what you've got means such a lot to me Someone to love, Somebody new. Someone to love, Someone like you. ~The Beatles Ashley YaBB God/goddess www.brianmay.co m     Gender: Posts: 3311 Re: Writting « Reply #370 on: Jul 17th, 2003, 12:13pm » Quote Modify With the windows down letting the cool breeze in and the sullen sounds of metallica drift out, i felt that the car was a fair representation of my state of mind.  So many questions burning in my heart and soul had remained unanswered.  In the process of trying to let something in to grant me the truth i sought, all that happened was that i let out all of my confusion and other emotions onto those around me.  Yet somehow, even that was futile.  Because as the car drove by individual people and houses in the night they would only hear a clip of screaming guitar or a rasp of James' voice, and not the whole song to even identify it as metallica.  The only way that they would ever know what we were listening to, and th eonly way for people to know what was going on in my mind, was for me to stop and to let them listen.  But instead, the car sped on, and i raced forward with my life, convinced that staying in one spot was not a good choice.  As the white car drove on through the winding roads in the black night, everything was just a repeat pattern of the drive i'd made yesterday, the day before, and the day before that... the same drive i'll make tomorrow, the day after, and every day after that.  Was anybody out there?  Was my faith in vain or was someone listening to my prayers?  Doubts and monotony mingled and threaded together with some other intangible essence to form the cord that tied around my spiritual neck, strangling any pieces of faith and hope that remained.  When the journey home was about half over, from my seat in shotgun i say the headlights illuminating some shape in the road up ahead.  My brother's talking from the back was stilled in my mind as i strained my eyes to see what it was.  My night vision was weak from not wearing my contacts.  Was it a piece of garbage, some roadkill in the middle of the road?  When Scott, driving, saw it, he began to brake.  The car screeched to a halt just inches before it.  As we were getting closer i was able to see what it was--a beautiful, living, breathing owl in the middle of our lane, just sitting there, facing off the road.  As the headlights rested on her, she stayed where she was for a moment, adn then turned her head to face us for a few seconds before spreading her magnificent wings and flying majestically off to bigger and better things in the night.  The car picked up speed once again after she had flown away but i still had the image of her in my head for the rest of the journey home.  Her expression was vaguely familiar.  Something about it expressed very human emotions... she was not at all surprised, but almost seemed to recognize us.  There was no fear in her eyes, only certainty that she was going to be all right.  I felt like she had looked straight at me through the windshield.  Something changed and turned over in my mind as Metallica gave way to Eve 6 and the roads began to be lighted by the lamps that lined the streets.  The road that my life was on, this journey that i had been making for eighteen years of my life, was no longer so dark and confusing.  Someone, something, had assured me that i wasn't alone in walking it and that there were glorious things for me to see in the miles ahead.  I knew then that i had a companion, as i put together the pieces of my brokenhearted misunderstanding of truth and turned on my high beams to see what other beauties awaited.  I've heard it said that the holy spirit is a dove, but i know now that it's an owl... IP Logged Love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares us to change our way of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure. wisensmart336 YaBB God/goddess "Do you know the muffin man?"     Gender: Posts: 746 Re: Writting « Reply #371 on: Jul 17th, 2003, 11:30pm » Quote Modify Ashley like wow that was just amazing I can't even begin to form words that might fit in to describe how WOW that really was. IP Logged if the sun refused to shine I'd still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea there will still be you and me. one eyed jacks won I'd jax I'm makin' 1 eyed jaks. pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt. Ashley YaBB God/goddess www.brianmay.co m     Gender: Posts: 3311 Re: Writting « Reply #372 on: Jul 18th, 2003, 7:49pm » Quote Modify I walked by them as many times as i could without seeming creepy or suspicious.  i don't usually follow customers unless they're trying to steal something, which i know that they weren't.  There was nothing special about them, just three ladies.  Old, older, oldest, 2 blondes and a grey, with nothing very distinguishable about them.  But that smell...  I only noticed it after i'd already passed by them.  I know there's probably things more worth writing about than the smell of three old ladies in an FYE on Friday night, and i don't know what possessed me to write about it.  Maybe it's the book i'm reading that's gotten me in a more literary mood.  Anyway, they smelled exactly like my Nana's house.  Don't confuse nana with Nana.  It's not pronounced like the dog on Peter Pan, it's pronounced like the "Na Na" in the song, "Na Na Hey Hey Goodbye."  It smelled just like what i remember her house smelling like as a child.  I'm sure it still smells like that but i hardly go there now because she always comes to our house instead.  It's a combination of the sulfur in her city water plus the old-lady brand perfume and the spices on her shelves--maybe cinnamon and some oregano?-and of course the intangible essence of grandma that you can't contain or label but just is.  I walked by them as many times as i could.  It made my night to remember how my Nana smells.  I believe in miracles, the little ones that someone else might overlook but that to me are so satisfying, things like the sight of an owl in the road or the smell of my grandmother.  Logic will say that since the amygdala is the part of your brain that processes both scent and memory and that's why the smell of the old women in the store put a smile on my face.  But it was so precise a smell... i didn't think it could be duplicated.  Obviously i was wrong. IP Logged Love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares us to change our way of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure. NOXsucks30 YaBB God/goddess www.retroimg.co m   wicked awsome art     Gender: Posts: 4309 Re: Writting « Reply #373 on: Jul 18th, 2003, 8:07pm » Quote Modify 1st off, ash, the one about the owl....just...wow... and i TOTALLY know what you mean with the smells, its the same with my grampa Nook, he died in 1991 and we still have shirts from him that still smell like him, its almost like he had sweet sweat, i dunno, but i LOVE the smell of my grampa nook, and ive only found one other thing (besides some of his old possitions) that smells like him, and its Jackson, he has the same sweet sweat smell (i used to go to his soccer games and i just love it...yeah,,, yeah anyway, heres the poem i was just gonna put before i read that....its kinda a sequel to mourning weather from 5/26/03 i wrote this last nite before i went to bed pouring rain 7/17/03   its raining again but this time   its only for me   its comming down hard the tears falling falling for me   my pain is so great almost too great to bear nature feels my hurt and shows it the only way it can   raining, sprinkling, down pouring just for the anguish inside of me i wish he sun would come out IP Logged And what you've got means such a lot to me Someone to love, Somebody new. Someone to love, Someone like you. ~The Beatles sillyfairy YaBB God/goddess     Gender: Posts: 532 Re: Writting « Reply #374 on: Jul 26th, 2003, 3:40pm » Quote Modify I really liked Pouring Rain!! It was awesome IP Logged Pages: 1 ... 23 24 25 26 27  ...  48 Reply Notify of replies Send Topic Print Forum Jump: ----------------------------- General -----------------------------  - New Forum Warning! ----------------------------- Talk -----------------------------=> Talk Amongst Yourselves   - Questions for the Band   - Street Team Business « Previous topic | Next topic »

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