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always behind closed doors, my face gets hot my head pounds, snot running down my chin shaking. short breath. seclusion & desperately praying hoping, someone will see the ironic pain, feel it inside of them & embrace my tender body, only to listen i'm hurting

s.f.

some of my favorite things

frost covering grass

texture

the smell & feel of paper

tired eyes

snow crunching beneath your feet

foggy windows

all shades of blue

the steam from a cup of coffee or tea

pink-stained lips

shadows of light on the wall

dancing in the shower

daydreaming

wet, reflections on city streets

clouds hiding in trees

moving water

empathy

messy hair

drunk laughter & crying

barely holding hands

candles when lit

baggy sweaters & scrunched socks

soft things

the color white

elders with love in their eyes

kisses on the body

a warm, hearty meal

smile lines

painting and getting it all over yourself

lemon water

wrapped & sleeping in each others arms

#thestuffthatmatters

Nothing is fresher than solitude.

s.f.

As if it were a prudent decision, I gingerly grabbed my notebook from the shelf, took a seat, and opened to the first page. The sweet smell of dry ink wafted through me, reminding me of the last seduction I allowed my pen to create; love with paper. Call me a pussyfoot, I willingly set aside my initial heed and reached for my pen to begin. Just to feel it glide across the silk lines... intense pleasure burned my chest and bubbled under my skin. Breathing slower, the pull of each inhale settled my mind, I was now having sex with words.

s.f.

When your mind is in control, your heart becomes the surrogate.

a.w.

Each day following the start of January, I’ve become aware of a world superficiality, insecurity, and negativity All seem lost in their own desires and hardships; the story they keep playing in their mind is on repeat. Many broken hearts mended by tape, saturated in pale smiles. I see their need of protection, however passion drips through the cracks the tape fails to cover. Their inner world is simmering, hiding and producing illness. A well fed mind begins to starve, and crave solace. Personal retribution. For what? I feel it’s the hearts saudade; passion bubbling beneath the cracks, desperate to color those pale smiles. Tears pregnant of hidden pain and stifled love. Barriers must break down. Passion should pour down your body and flood your life. Taste should linger on your tongue, with an authentic robust flavor. Nothing is more valuable. Any moment could be someones last, why waste time dreaming of ridicule and cultured ambition?

s.f.

I've realized

Even simple things,

Like looking up to the sky when I check the mail...

brings me closer to myself

S.F.

"...there is an odd quality about the intensity that writing exudes. the way it spills over, and oozes over your thoughts and tongue. how it drizzles out and discovers a way of being on the paper before you.

and there are moments, as a writer... where you find yourself lost in that discovery. you speak and perceive in a similar way to the friends you've created in your mind. and during the prolonged pauses of life,

in front of a mirror, or under the shower, you begin to become the essence of your imagination. despite feeling like a fool, waltzing all over the place, talking to yourself and to the silent voices of your friends around you, whom are invisible to the eye... nothing will stop you.

why?

because its exhilarating. it's attractive, and stimulating. it makes your body pulsate with heat, and passion... with love. it's addicting... and deeply fruity, like a sip of red wine.

you can taste it, and lick it off your lips, making you feel tingly inside, sending shivers down your spine.

there's nothing quite as humbling or quite as lovely. nor filled with such character and such elegance. it just exists there...

between the atoms of the air.."

s.f.

As the adage prevails; Within eleven starry nights of stomping on familiar toes, you finally stumble upon a reality you chose. Lost in the shadows of alley ways, A now blinded dimension. However, Your reality may manifest a worm hole folded in the very atoms of your own breath. So long as you harmonize your inhales with the seven bird-songs You awaken your long rested sun.

s.f.

Do it for the right reasons, not the wrong ones.

s.f.

Why does structure need to be absent of freedom?

s.f.

Thank you, I'm going through a very complicated moment and I don't have many people to talk, I don't even trust my psychologist, she knows I have some trust issues, and I really needed that. Thank you.

♡♡♡♡ I feel so grateful that I was able to help. Even just a little bit. Cheers!

I´m depressed, I don't want to get out of my room, I want to lay down and die. I'm trying to keep some distance from my old friends, but I don't hava new friends becuse I don't know how to socialize, I'm always comparing myself to my friends and it makes me fell even worst, I'm despaired to hurt myself again but I promessed my girlfriend that I would stop and I can't starve myself becuse my family and my friends are controlling everything I eat. I just needed to tell someone

Rest. Drink water. Sit outside for a few hours. Learn to love the taste of food, and the feeling of someone's touch and voice. Every day has new potential. It sounds cliche, but it's true. If you fall asleep each night thinking, "Tomorrow is the day!", even if it turns out bad, eventually tomorrow will be your day. That belief alone has pulled me out of many pits of darkness. Letting people care for you, and allowing them to push you through your comfort zone will build strength inside. Don't ever give up.

"I find no fault with mastery in any aspect you deem worthy. Harmony is a marvelous thing."

s.f.

Purple Prose Revision

Original: “The sun had set leaving a dim and cloudy dusk to comfort my opulent heart. A salty breeze whiffed through me as fear chewed on my skin. For so long my intentions were stagnant… and up until now my body hadn’t processed the changes that are taking place. This realization ignited a wave my mind was unaccustomed to feeling. Long forgotten dreams made my heart drool with anticipation… eager to be free a new self began to emerge, melting the old one. The polarity and intensity of the transformation made my knees wobble, forcing me to the ground against the grainy sand. Silently I wept for the ghastly winds to give me strength and power. Time at this moment was nonexistent and before I knew it the moon was pouring it’s reflection into the dark water and lighting the island a soft indigo; soothing my swollen eyes. Slowly I lay my head down, and started praying to the sea, asking for guidance and healing.”

Revision: “I’d been walking the shore for hours when I noticed a sliver of the sun was visible. Everyone was stuffing their bags in a rush to avoid the wind that filled the coast at night.

A pink hat blew past me as a toddler ran after wailing for someone to help her catch it. Her arms stretched out, she did her best to keep up with the wind but tripped and fell — sand plastering her face.

“Lyla!” Shouted a woman as she jumped and snatched the hat. She saw me looking at her and squinted her eyes.

“Why didn’t you help her?” She interrogated. Staring back at her, I wondered why the thought didn’t cross my mind.

“Well?” she asked.

“I-uh…” stammering to put together a sentence, the girl began wailing again.

Shaking her head, the women pushed past me to comfort her. An abrupt gust surged, causing me to dig my heels in the sand and forcing the hat from the woman’s hand; Lyla screaming in anguish. The woman tried to grab the hat as it floated above her but I seized it as another gust attempted to push it farther. Lyla stopped screaming and the women stared at me bewildered.

“Sorry,” I muttered, holding the hat for them to take. Timid, the girl took the hat and placed it on her head.

“Th-thank y-you,” she managed to say through hiccups.

Inching towards me, she opened her arms for a hug. When I didn’t open my arms in return, she hugged my thigh. Goosebumps traveled my body sending a chill up my spine. My chest felt warm, and a small flutter in my stomach forced a smile on my face. It was uncomfortable as this was the first sensation I had felt in weeks, and it chewed on my skin. My knees shook, forcing me to the ground.

Looking at me with distaste the woman furrowed her brows and grabbed Lyla by the arm, “Let’s go.”

As they walked the opposite direction, I realized how much time had passed; the moon was pouring into the ocean, lighting the coast a soft indigo.

Deciding to lay down, I closed my eyes and began to weep. They felt swollen and hurt.

My mind was drooling in anticipation. Eager for freedom; relishing the idea of melting my old self and creating a new one.

Why did I have to be so hollow? For so long I’ve been a stranger in my own body. Pounding fists into the ground, I begged the wind to impart strength, to bestow power. If I could hold myself the way it does, I could blow through anything standing in my way.

Shivering, I realized it was bitter cold and my body was numb.

Time at this moment was nonexistent. Trembling, I prayed… Asking for guidance and healing.”

As with life, it’s imperative to maintain a steady climb of growth. Acknowledge your weakness. Observe your work objectively. Keep learning. Improve your strengths.

There is nothing unique about my revised version, but I learned more skill by doing it. I learned to avoid flowery description that distracts the reader. To focus less on expressing feeling and emotion - and more with describing feeling and emotion. I learned that the overuse of adverbs complicates your writing and often times you can create a more vivid scene without them. I learned to be wary of redundant phrases.

I know that there is more to learn.

Keep trying, keep working, and keep moving forward. That’s all that matters. Your end goal will be achieved if you have the drive to grow.

"It seems that a common illusion associates isolation as a burden; the real burden are solitary moments experiencing limitation. It is during seclusion that inner disovery begins to waft in your mind; it may be miserable - or it may be profound. Regardless, it is something I am fond of."

- s.f.

…I peered through the bush, carefully moving its branches. “What do you think it is?” asked my brother. Before I could say anything an arrow slid right through the creatures arm. Violet blood ran down his ivory-colored body glistening as he stepped into the light. The creature didn’t seem to feel pain, but his eyes harbored a deep concern. I leaned closer into the bush. He let one tear fall as he pulled the arrow; which healed instantly. “Incredible!” whispered my brother. “Shush-it!” I snapped. Looking directly at the bush we were hiding in, the creature’s eyes locked onto mine. I hoped he couldn’t see us…

s.f.

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