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@numinous-kairos
Reblog the writers’ fortune cookie for luck!
Guys I reblogged this and then wrote an 8000 word story I didn’t even have a solid plan for. Reblog this shit.
Please, great fortune cookie of writing. I beg of you.
I need this right now man!
I need to write a 250w essay.
Just that.
Grant me that pls fortune cookie
MUSIC ASKS these are actually pretty fucking hard but why not
1:A song you like with a color in the title
2:A song you like with a number in the title
3:A song that reminds you of summertime
4:A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about
5:A song that needs to be played LOUD
6:A song that makes you want to dance
7:A song to drive to
8:A song about drugs or alcohol
9:A song that makes you happy
10:A song that makes you sad
11:A song that you never get tired of
12:A song from your preteen years
13:One of your favorite 80’s songs
14:A song that you would love played at your wedding
15:A song that is a cover by another artist
16:One of your favorite classical songs
17:A song that would sing a duet with on karaoke
18:A song from the year that you were born
19:A song that makes you think about life
20:A song that has many meanings to you
21:A favorite song with a person’s name in the title
22:A song that moves you forward
23:A song that you think everybody should listen to
24:A song by a band you wish were still together
25:A song by an artist no longer living
26:A song that makes you want to fall in love
27:A song that breaks your heart
28:A song by an artist with a voice that you love
29:A song that you remember from your childhood
30:A song that reminds you of yourself
For anyone that actually is following me 🤷🏻♀️
↖ This blog loves Tony Stark 3000
A Recipe for Me
By numinous-kairos prompted by Denise Frohman
Start off with dough that’s been overworked so it’s tough but soft. Now forget that it’s there until it’s needed.
Next work in years of body confidence issues until well incorporated throughout the dough.
In a separate bowl combine empathy, creativity, and insecurity, but be sure to accidentally dump the whole bottle of empathy in.
When thoroughly mixed add in memories of building a golf course in the backyard with the neighbors, painting murals on the bedroom walls until 3 in the morning, and writing a show that was actually performed by people.
Take this mixture and glaze it over the dough that you forgot about until now.
Cook in Midwestern weather surrounded by two parents and three sisters until slightly tanner than pale.
Next dip a paintbrush in sunlight and flick it at the dough to make an artist’s idea of freckles and moles.
Secure a head between her shoulders. Place a pen in one hand and a sewing needle and thread in the other.
Open all tabs in the brain at once, but don’t tell the dough which one is playing music.
Give her some glasses because the poor thing can’t see things far away.
Put two rings on the right hand so she won’t damage the exterior.
For the body be sure to add a heart too big for her own good and fill it with more love than she can give.
Make sure that she will never have cleavage or even boobs. But give her a damn good booty.
Let her read as much as it wants, that will be helpful later.
Be sure to let her develop the drive to learn and to want to help others learn.
Let her talk with her hands and then learn how to talk with her hands.
Fill her ears with poetry and wisdom from her peers and the women that came before her, but also let her listen to what the idiots say because she can learn from them too.
Allow her to create herself too, but let her go free.
Let her learn the she will not be everyone’s cup of tea because they will only realize how strong she is when in hot water.
Optional detail: poke many decorative holes in the ears and nose much to the disapproval of one parent.
Congratulations you have now made me.
Stand Tall
A Song-like poem by numinous-kairos
I’ve been on earth for quite some time
For twenty years old I thought I might chime
In with what I know about me
It kind of sad I guarantee
I’ve learned to set the bar so low
I expect to be in the shadow
Always behind or in the back
Never to show how I can crack
Why get your hopes up because they all fall
It’s way further down when you have to stand tall.
No point in trying, nobody cares
Get close with me? Nobody dares
If it all is too much, put on a smile
Plaster the cracks, it’ll hold for a while
Why get your hopes up because all they do is fall
It’s way further down when you have to stand tall.
Why would they listen, what does it matter?
Sooner or later something will shatter.
And I’ll be left to pick up the fragments.
Piece by piece I fix it all
But know that something small
Can leave the biggest indent
Why get your hopes up because all of them fall
It’s way further down when you have to stand tall.
I wrote my first show...
and it’s approved to be put up in a little black box experimental theater. I’m so incredibly excited and anxious because this show is very personal. I’m worried that people won’t like it and that they’ll find it cheesy or poorly written, but at the same time I know that what I wrote is good enough to be staged and that it’s relatable to multiple people.
Learn To Be Lonely
In a sea of people
It’s easy to be looked over
But when they are all your friends
You wonder when you arrived in the corner
By now I’m used to it
I was never one for groups and plans
Never wanted and never thought of
Until I was needed to be the brains of the operations
Learn to be lonely
That’s what I have done
Don’t give me pity
If I’m in the corner
I went there myself
But with the guiding hand
Of those who left me behind
Learn to be lonely
That’s what I have done
Don’t give me pity
Brick by brick I’ve put up my wall
But no one has tried to make it fall
Forgive me if it takes some time
To get past the pantomime
I’ve trusted in the past to only be left there
There are walls to break and things to mend before you will see who I am
Learn to be lonely
That’s what I have done
Don’t give me pity
I don’t need your pity
I’ve had it with pity
Just look to the corner
If you want to see me
Solo Yo
By numinous-kairos
When all you’re surrounded by
Is people and you’re the one on whom they already rely
You can’t help but wonder if something’s awry with you
I say I don’t need people
But that’s only true for most of the time
I want someone to embrace me and help me to climb
I’m wrong.
Why can’t I see it
Is there anyone out here who won’t quit on me
And tell me that they’ll be there in good times and bad
Let me know they can handle me when I am sad
That they will not leave me when I’ve fallen back
And let me fall on down through the cracks
Someone give back to me what I am owed
Don’t be silly I’ve tried before
Everyone thinks of my kindness as “I can do more”
All people see me as is a person that is always there
When will I find someone who can return the care
I’m wrong.
Why can’t I see it
Is there anyone out here who won’t quit on me
And tell me that they’ll be there in good times and bad
Let me know they can handle me when I am sad
That they will not leave me when I’ve fallen back
And let me fall on down through the cracks
Someone give back to me what I am owed
Everyone says “I’m here for you” when everything is nice and easy
Nobody tries to make an effort to know you and you learn to act as if they aren’t greedy
Why can’t I ever find a person like it
I ask and ask God for someone who won’t quit on me
Someone who’ll be there when I start to cry
Let me know that they will at least try
They’ll catch me up when I’ve fallen back
And lift me on up through the cracks
Someone give back to me what I am owed
Please get back to me. What am I owed?
Bibliophile
by numinous-kairos
She sits in the back of the library in her own little corner. Her head is tilted down. Her glasses slide to the edge of her nose. Her eyes chase the story that is printed on the paper that crinkles. She turns the pages that have withstood the test of time. This collection of pages consumes her very existence. For this instance she is not of this world. She is transported, the book her beacon. Between the pages she is the warrior, the sorceress, the answer to a prayer, or to a prophecy. The onlooker may see a bookworm, but do not underestimate her power. Between the pages she is her true self and words are more powerful than they appear.
Cellophane
by numinous-kairos
a/n: if anyone who sees this is more musically inclined, i’m trying to make this poem a song and have been struggling to create some original music. if you want to help me out feel free to message me. :)
“Cellophane” All alone She stands in the middle Of a crowded room On her own
She wishes that The lights would cast Her shadow on to the floor So that people could see
She's there, she’s not cellophane Because Even cellophane can Cast a shadow in the light
No one notices her She’s invisible Sometimes she wishes to not have this power
she’s there please know that she’s there
she wishes that the lights would cast Her shadow on to the floor So that people could see
She’s there she’s not cellophane Because Even cellophane can cast a shadow in the light
she’s there please know that she’s there
An Ode to Writer’s Block
by numinous-kairos
“An Ode to Writer’s Block” I sit. I stare. My mind's as blank as the screen in front of me. I see the cursor blink. On. Off. On. Off. Why won't anything come to me? Am I not creative enough? Have I lost the one spark that made me want to write? Am I not creative enough? I've been reading trying to ignite the need to purge emotions through made up characters; nothing happens. Am I not creative enough? I try to find the emotion within me that urges me to pick up the pen, pencil, or laptop; nothing happens. Am I not creative enough? I read poetry and prose online to inspire me; nothing happens. Am I not creative enough? Then, finally, I find it. It, being that need to throw my being into words. It, being the urge to find anything to write those words down. It, being my inspiration. It, being my creativity It, being me.
Stars
by numinous-kairos
"Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" but do stars twinkle? do they shine? do they sparkle? do they do anything but project light millions of light years to our sky so that we can wish on them or sing about them or have them decide our fate? do they have another purpose? are they there to show us that there is always going to be somethings we will never understand? are they there to be our guides when we are lost with no direction? are they there to remind us of the one we love and the ones we lost? are they there to lead us to Neverland so we never grow up? are they there to have us wish that we will become who we want to be be what we want to be go where we want to be? to find the answer one must simply look to the stars and follow the trail they blaze for us
Raindrops
by numinous-kairos
“Raindrops” my dear so far above me how I hope one day we can be together there are so many others that you can choose from but I hope you choose me
the best part of being who we are is that when there are more to choose from we seem to be drawn to each other
now you're racing towards me and I can only imagine what our lives will be like when we are finally together
we're finally together and now all we can do is chase down our own path until the end of our lives
Emotion Hotel
by numinous-kairos
Here, my head is a hotel. All my emotions stay tucked away in their own rooms. Happiness is on a completely different floor from Anger. Sadness and Frustration share a room. Fear and Anxiety are inseparable best friends and have adjoining rooms. Every other emotion I have is a friend or enemy to another. Trust, however, stays locked away in it's own room. Trust is very small. Trust has been broken and shredded and ripped apart. Its too afraid to be out and about because it doesn't want to be any of those things. Thankfully, Trust has made an friend. This friend is Fear. They exchange key cards so they can see each other more. Fear warns Trust that if it puts itself back out there, the Trust will be destroyed. Anxiety doesn't like that Fear is hanging out with Trust. Anxiety decides to get rid of Trust. First, Anxiety becomes Trust's frenemy. Anxiety tells Trust that everything Fear said was wrong. If Trust puts itself out there nothing bad will happen. Because of this, Trust starts to believe Anxiety. So, Trust attempts to put itself out there. Anxiety was wrong. Fear was right. Trust was broken and shredded and ripped apart by the other emotions. Now there is only a small piece of Trust left. Trust may not survive, But the only thing that can save Trust, is Trust itself.
A wrong choice can teach a right lesson.
Jacob Holguin (via wnq-writers)
If you’re reading this then I hope something good happens to you today.
Unknown (via wnq-anonymous)
Let’s take a moment to contemplate how greatly things have changed.
[dramatic gasp] (via wnq-writers)
