My mind was dwelling againFixated on a so called stainForgot all about the pain My mind was playing two topics on loopAnd as soon as I chose one,I knew I would be consumed by the loopI would be … gone What do I choose?To fixate on the beauty of loveContinue reading “Poetry: Consumed(A WIP)”
Perhaps you’re not meant to be fixedPerhaps you’re not truly brokenYou’re not supposed to be all in one pieceNobody buys a story expecting blank pagesNobody goes to the art museum to see a blank canvas as the highlight of the eveningYou do not come into this world without a messSo,whyContinue reading “Poetry: Scrapbook Love (WIP)”
They’ve been waiting for a voiceWaiting for a voice to make some noiseWhy have I been so hoarse?Carefully treading a set course I am prepared for the worstSo why am I feeling so lost?I think it’s time to speak upIt’s time to gear up It’s time to speak loud andContinue reading “Poetry: Speak Up”
Writing Prompts found on Pinterest. Wrote a short story inspired by the first three prompts.
Fire personified
Once there was a woman with red hair done in messy braids. Sometimes her hair appeared to be an actual fire. The red color seemed kind of fitting as it would come to define her life.
She was like… fire personified. Warm and comforting when needed. A guide to help others find their path like the smoke of fire. However she wasn’t just cozy for she could be just as scorching as fire out to burn those who had hurt her.
She made life better for those close to her. For she reminded them of childhood and innocence. Sometimes her red hair made her loved ones think of the leaves changing color as the season changed to autumn. The thoughts would take them back to a time where they were children playing and laughing as the autumn leaves fell. For them she was a breath of fresh air in what had once been a dull life. They wished they could protect her forever however they knew she wasn’t defenceless.
Red for love and red for hatred.
Nobody could deny that she loved fully and fiercely. That is what made it all the more terrifying. For they knew how hurt she would be if she had found unrequited love. More horrifying than that was imagining what would happen if she lost a loved one.
That is exactly how she breaks. Everything she ever loved is ripped from her and torn into pieces. She tries her hardest to protect each and everyone but in the end she just isn’t strong enough.
It’s as she loses her last loved one that she falls to her knees and screams. She screams even as she cries. She screams till all the corners of the world know and echo her immense pain. When she’s screamed herself hoarse she slowly rises with determination burning in her eyes. A gentle wind blows her hair and makes it seem like a gentle,comforting fire.
It’s as the wind picks up speed that she sets everything in her path aflame. She becomes a blazing inferno as she lets her anger out. Soon smoke rise above the trees. Perhaps feebly she hoped the smoke would be a signal.
As the fires burn even higher than the trees and only the smell of ashes and smoke remain, the determined fire in her eyes dies. As the enemy finally falls and the world burns, her eyes become dull.
She is so much more than just a woman with red hair done in messy braids. She is fire. But as the world continues to burn she once more falls to her knees. She is no longer a blazing inferno or a comforting warm fire. She is now a dying fire and the only one left to bare witness to it was a grey fox with silver eyes.
Red is no longer just the color that defines her life,it’s now also the color that defines the end of the world.
But as the grey fox tilts its head,the woman and the fires vanish. A moment later the fox is gone as well. The world once more looks untouched as if nothing happened in the first place. That’s a problem because as it turns out there’s a girl standing there astonished. The girl is astonished because this girl could have sworn she saw it all happen.
That’s how the stories of fire personified starts. However everybody wondered what the fox was if the woman was fire personified. Whenever the story is told however a strange silvery grey mist or smoke fills the air…
Firstly happy World Book Day📚! ❤I love reading. And how about all of you? If you do what’s your favourite book.
So this image I found kind of makes me want to write a story in Afrikaans but I would love to also tell you about in English.
This house looks abandoned but the ceiling makes me think of the stars. 😁I love the sky and especially the stars,you know?
Anyways the words that came to me for a story related to this image is the following: They say once long ago some of the stars lived on earth,that a shooting star was just a star coming to visit. Nobody knows how true the story is and if it is why the stars no longer come here. The only clue there is to support the story is a house that they call The Dwelling of Stars. I am searching for that house…
😅Do you think I should write an entire story about it? I hope everyone is doing well❤.
Hi😊. I hope you are doing well🌻. Sorry I have been so quiet but life had been hectic. I was too tired to post or didn’t have the motivation for quite some time.
My contract ended and while the option was given to extend for a month longer I decided not too. I loved the experience but my next IT course started. Which meant I wouldn’t be able to balance studying,working and doing afternoon tutoring.
But I also have a bit more time for myself now which is extremely nice. I am really enjoying the second IT course of my Specialization even if some of it is a lot more challenging. To be honest I enjoy studying a lot more when it’s challenging for me😊. How about any of you that are studying?
😁I turned 21 on the 7th April and I appreciate everything my parents did a lot. I got a few books as presents and I am really enjoying them thus far. I am considering reviewing some books. Would anyone be interested in book reviews?
Also I am participating in two Poetry competitions and I am doing well so far. It’s been quite the learning experience though as a lot of technical aspects become apart of the challenges. I guess poetry competitions are kind of difficult for me because I am not used to writing poems with guidelines and topics set up. Usually I write my own poem about whatever inspired it.
😁I am also trying out writing a story this year to see if I think I can write a few books in the future. Would you be interested in hearing about my story as I write it?
😁I am interested in hearing from you all. How are you? What are you up to? Do you also try out competitions related to your hobbies to build experience? Have you considered it if you haven’t? If you have did you enjoy it?
Sometimes when the sun is just setting and I look at the magnificent picture it creates I wish I could paint.
Sometimes when I hear this wonderful song I wish I could sing.
Sometimes when I see a wonderful film I wish I could act.
There’s so many wonderful things out there and I wish I could experience it all.
If I had the talent I wouldn’t waste it Because I would be so awed and amazed that God chose me for this gift for a talent is most definitely a gift. If I had the talent I wouldn’t let it stagnate and go to waste-I would polish that talent and turn it into a something amazing and precious.
If I had the talent I would be so grateful that I get to experience it because there is so many people out there that would wish for my talent.
The truth is a lot of people wish for a talent in something they are passionate in and it breaks their heart when somebody that has that specific talent doesn’t care for it.
But enough of that.
This is about the beauty of being a writer: As a writer you get to experience so much. A writer gets to build worlds and yet also get to destroy worlds. A writer gets to be anything they wish to be by simply writing down the words.
As a writer you have an amazing gift-don’t waste it. For you get to experience so much more than most people.
I am grateful to be a writer My mind is always full of words and thoughts And my blank pages are always waiting to be written upon My ink dripping onto a page is a story being born There is something quite special about being a writer.
“Not everyone is hopeful nor is everyone excited about life. Life has this mysterious way of working and we can’t predict what will happen with any certainity. Some people are wary and tired brought down by events we don’t know anything about. It is however our responsibility to help make life a little better and burdens a little lighter for others”-M.S.W
“I am going to be late!”,I think to myself as I grab my bag running out the library doors. Walking out of breathe into my class for the day I realize I just barely made it. I sit down at a table and get my notebook out writing Creative Writing 101 in the Header. I take notes as the professor drones on. I find this class really interesting even if the professor can get a bit boring sometimes. However as I am really serious about getting my writing degree I create my best notes and make sure to pay careful attention. Of course it’s a bit weird for me to be one of the only females interested in studying creative writing this year.
Later in the day “Well I am finally home”,I sigh unlocking my door. It’s been a long day but no matter how exhausted I get it’s worth it in the end. I pick up a novel from my reading table and curl up on my couch after I finished putting on some other clothes.
“Love works in mysterious ways my dear. Not everyone reacts the same way to love. Some people have been hurt so badly by love they are afraid to even hope love can be different. You are a wary person not because you have been hurt by love but because you are afraid of love. And you know why you are so afraid? Because you’ve seen how others have been hurt by love and that has made you cautious. It’s okay to be afraid to love my dear,just don’t let that fear consume you. Because you might just miss out on the greatest love of your life if you get consumed by hatred”,said the mysterious man to Rose.
“Wow”,I think to myself reading this passage in the novel Destined Love. It reminds me of how my mom said their love story started. The idea that there could be someone destined for you that will take all your fears and help you face them is kind of astounding.
Well I need to get up and go finish up my assignments for tomorrow. I put a cute bookmark where I just finished reading. I stand up and walk to my study room. I pick up a stack of books from my study drawer and move to the desk to start finishing up my tasks I still have left to do.
Poem Girl Sam 