elle taylor

sometimes i write stuff

[elle-writesthings]

Sometimes i embrace the night like a long lost lover. I let the quiet and small noises rush over me. I drink in the dark and feel so much more alive under starlight and moonlight, than i ever have in the blistering sun. And i finally give in to the dark that i bury inside my heart. And maybe that’s why i love the night so well. Because when it cracks me open and the moon sees what’s inside, the silvery light is soothing and heals the cracks made by the sun. And sometimes the hurt is too much. And the moon is not there. And i sit in the sudden quiet. And all the words i had spoken hastily and mindlessly, hang in the air like smoke. And i can still hear them echoing around the empty creaks and groans of my house at 1am. They are as loud as the crack of a gunshot, and i flinch as if they were. As painful as it can be, to just be me, i find a way to continue on. I find my courage by moonlight. In the softness that comes from a world asleep, i come alive. And I wish I could swim in the night sky. That vast inky expanse, broken only by pure starlight. An endless beauty that makes anything seem possible. Like dreams can become reality and magic exists. The moonlight that brings the clouds to life with a haunting glow, brings to mind werewolves and fantastic beasts. Driving down long, empty, winding roads, with the windows down. The chilled night air, violently and playfully whips your hair into chaos. And it feels like you’re flying. And for the first time, in such a very long time you laugh out loud. For no other reason, than the pure joy bubbling out of you.

elle taylor

[elle-writesthings]

She always thought she was waiting for a white knight in shining armor, for her One True Love. What dawned on her was so much bigger than that. She was waiting for herself to be the hero she always needed. Once she realized this, she needed wait no more.

elle taylor

[elle-writesthings]

You don’t understand why.

Why I need the pain,

why I drink it like water in the desert .

Because it’s the only thing that reaches through the thickest fog

And touches me

And as it burns and sears its way across my skin

I weep

Not tears of sadness like you assume

But ones of joy

Because finally something has touched me

And even as it hurts,

it feels so damn good.

Because I’ve forgotten what anything feels like.

Forgotten the breathtaking highs, the heartbreaking lows.

I can’t recall breathless laughter, white knuckled fear, damp faced sadness, or the warmth of love.

I don’t remember what any of that feels like anymore.

Not really.

I remember the definition of them, remember how they might have felt to me long ago.

But that time has long passed.

For some time now my existence has been experienced through a thick fog.

A dense gray that leaves my world in monochrome.

A haze like glass that lets nothing in, and nothing out.

I watch the world play out in front of me.

I see the happiness all around me.

I feel nothing.

Nothing breaks through my barrier.

Except, that is,

The pain.

elle taylor

[elle-writesthings]

I desperately want wings to fly far from this place. I long for the freedom of flight. I spend countless hours of sleepless nights worrying, hoping, dreaming of the day I will take to the open sky. I’ve imagined it hundreds of things of times in my head. And reimagined it. It’s the only thing that occupies my thoughts. The reason I drag my sorry earth bound body out of bed every morning.

So why is it then,

That I keep cutting my wings whenever they begin to grow?

elle taylor

[elle-writesthings]

And it’s times like this that I hate being tied to you.

That I hate this irrevocable bond.

That I hate you.

Because I’m supposed to feel safe with you.

To feel supported and loved.

But I don’t.

I feel your cold judgment.

I have fallen short.

Again.

What you say guts me.

And what you don’t say cuts me like a knife.

“You can’t win with me”, you accuse

The words whip, and lash and tear.

I grab unto it.

I will use this to beat myself bloody on your behalf.

So maybe I can be worthy of you.

Please accept my bloody offering.

Of hate,

Of fear,

Of brokenness

I lay it at your altar with bated breath

Hoping it will satisfy

Knowing it won’t

But helpless to do anything else

[elle-writesthings]

Why are you so angry?

They ask.

A question I often ask myself.

I don’t want this, don’t enjoy it.

I hate being the dark cloud of discontent in your beautiful blue sky.

God knows I’ve tried to stop.

Time and time again.

I forced myself, until bloody and black with bruises,

to climb up,

to get close to you.

And for just a moment. One pure and blissful moment, I was up there with you.

But it was all too brief.

And before I knew it, Life had shoved me down again.

Back into my filth covered trench.

Because I don’t know how to feel anything other than fear, sadness and anger anymore.

Life has taught me.

To always expect the worst.

To never believe the good.

And how fleeting any joy you wrest from its grasp is.

elle taylor

[elle-writesthings]

It hurt to think that the connection they shared was one-sided.

To think she was more invested than he.

It made her feel lonelier than she ever had.

And she felt stupid all over again.

She hadn’t meant to get her hopes up. Had promised herself she wouldn’t make anything out of it. Told herself she wasn’t allowed to hope. And yet, she felt the telltale signs of disappointment. And just like that, like a balloon deflated, she shrunk back to her original size. Knowing she only had herself to blame just made matters worse. And as she watched him go she refused to let herself cry. Keeping her eyes on his retreating form, fists balled at her sides, she promised herself once again.

To pick up all her pieces.

Again.

And start anew.

[elle-writesthings]

God i wish I had a man who loved me. Even though I’m fat and sad, and not 22 anymore. A man who sees me every day, even at my most depressed and still thinks I’m amazing. A man that doesn’t feel like he needs to make everything a competition. That doesn’t feel like he needs to fix me. A man that says I am beautiful with no makeup on and fucking means it. A man that never gets tired of telling me he loves me. A man that sees me as his equal, as his partner. A man that doesn’t turn everything into a fight and blame it all on me for getting upset. A man that sees me for the god damn goddess I am, even when I don’t see it in myself. A man that keeps his word and his eyes on me. A man that doesn’t suck the joy out of everything. One that understands that not everything is about him. One that knows how to flirt. That knows how to turn me on with his words, with his caresses. One that doesn’t make me beg to be touched. A man that stimulates my mind as much as my body. A man that makes me laugh until I cry. A man that is not unmanned by tears, and will never shy away from my grief. A man that would never abandon me. A man that I can always rely on. But I honestly don’t think he exists.

[elle-writesthings]

"it was always you,"

"only ever you."

the words hover on the tip of her tongue

they ought to taste sweet

but she had never tasted something so bitter

elle taylor

[elle-writesthings]

He called me again last night

called to me in that way without words

one soul crying out

and mine heard his.

and i was helpless to resist

That siren cry

the one that promises comfort

and provides a slow death

and still i go to him

knowingly

my continued existence means less to me

than the false sense of comfort he provides

and so,

i let him smother me with his lies

our false world held more joy to me

than reality ever did.

elle taylor

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Person A: “Someone end me, I’m fucking done.”

Person B: “Absolutely not.” 

Person C: “Mood.”  

Person D: “You wanna talk about it?”  

Person E: “I have arsenic.”

[elle-writesthings]

She always thought she was waiting for a white knight in shining armor, for her One True Love. What dawned on her was so much bigger than that. She was waiting for herself to be the hero she always needed. Once she realized this, she needed wait no more.

elle taylor

[jxsminewrites]

reasons to not quit writing:

your writing is a skill, not an inborn talent (unless, yeah, maybe it is). not everyone can do what you do and love

everyone says they want to write a book. everyone has what it takes to write a book. not everyone does it anyway. you be the small percentage of success you read about

your writing will always seem brickshit horrible because you wrote and read it a million times

you love this writing thingy. quitting it will be like cutting off your fingers one by one.

someone out there will want to read what you wrote.

someone out there wants to know what is on your mind. 

someone out there appreciates your art. they will share it with their friends. they will share it with their loved ones. they will share it with their future self because maybe what you wrote saved them.

if you give up now, you know you will just come back to it again, whether it’s years from now, months, or next week. you love writing, that’s why you planted the seed of thought that you are going to write this book, and whether you come back to it or not, your unwritten stories will come back to you.

[softguts]

a fat reminder(s)

[write-on-world]

[ownworldresident]

Crystal clear.

[writeouswriter]

Don’t be afraid to write your 1st draft.

[Gif Caption: Fear causes inaction. Inaction causes pain.]

2 options: Write… or don’t… so…

Write with reckless abandon, write with commas, with inconsistencies, with flash and style.

Write.

Write notes and mistakes and blunders and lines you won’t ever forget.

Write.

Is it going to be perfect right away? Probably not. But it’s going to be something. Something tangible, something real, and eventually something beautiful. Don’t let fear keep your story from being told… because you’re the only one who can tell it, and better to get any words written for the project you love than none at all.

Will it be bad? Will it be good? We don’t know until you do it. I know this is a major cliché by now, but as the saying goes, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. And I’ve been held back by fear too long, it’s time to make my shot.

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Me: “Fuck… I really want to write a book.”

Friend: “Then write it.”

Me:

[frankiek2902fanfictions]

Omfg this Absolute Feel though!! XD

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Every writer has felt this at one point or another.

[aquilacalvitium]

I personally feel it when my character flips me off and does the exact opposite of what I want them to do

[write-it-motherfuckers]

My stories never follow the script in my head. Ever.

[owlsarefowls]

The scenes are in my head but every time I try to write a sentence, my brain just goes wonk and I forget how words work.

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Oh I hate it when that happens.

[dragonroyaly]

“I didn’t plan that plot twist either” is a tag on a lot of my stories and for good reason. I didn’t plan half the shit that made it in.

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Fucking Mood.

[undead0relived]

I can talk and plan, I can make a story sound off the hook cool, but when I sit down to plan, it all goes down the drain. I can talk about a character and plan them, make them a race I am not, but make them so cool, your Hope’s and dreams. But paper, typing it out? Sometimes….the beginning though, always kills me. :(

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Try carrying something to verbally record it all Darling, just babble away and come back to it later.

[undead0relived]

That, sounds like a good idea 0o0

[write-it-motherfuckers]

It’s what I have to do sometimes, and it’s what a friend of mine does. 

[theofficialpeanutgallery]

Alsjshakkajdkdkekskqjkskdjaj @write-it-motherfuckers THAT IS THE BEST TIP I’VE EVER HEARD

[write-it-motherfuckers]

I’ve found it helpful, and I know quite a few other people who do as well. Not just creative writers either.

Doctors, journalists, song writers, professors, researchers, students, etc.

There’s lots of different applications for this method.  

[charasregrets]

Every time i go to write something concrete and planed my mind go’s what if they said/did this instead and then it becomes like tree branch’s and i end up writing something entirely different than the original plan  

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Sometimes you just need to let a story do it’s thing Darling. 

[spearfeld]

writers when they sit down to write

[darth-salem-emperor-of-earth]

@highjustices, @skybound2, @bewitched-elf, @jessicamarianadraws, @vesperlionheart, @crazy-grrrl-on-the-computer, @tessa1972, @celticaurora, @commander-krios

[vesperlionheart]

some days I swear…

[sariasprincy]

Today! In fact…