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[thefirstwallflower-blog]

Writing prompt

“Just let me die,” she whispered. Loosening the grip of his hand. “Never,” he  shook his head in despair. “Don’t you get it?” Her voice softened as tears began appearing in the corner of her left eye. “I was never really here.” By that her hand let go of his. She fell. And then as her last words left her mouth and entered the cold room of  emptiness there was nothing, but the echo of her familiar voice: “Live”.

[thefirstwallflower-blog]

All the voices in my head will be quiet when i'm dead

Rumpelstiltskin, Once Upon a Time 

[thefirstwallflower-blog]

You should think, that in the several thousand days I’ve lived this live, I would have accomplished something.

[thefirstwallflower-blog]

Me

I want to write a book. I want to write a book. Why do I want to write a book? Because of everything. I want to write a book for multiple reasons. But the most significant reason is, that I do not want to be forgotten. One day I’ll write a book, is what I say to myself, one day I will be famous, one day people will know me. But that’s the problem isn’t it? Every famous author, every famous actor, singer, youtuber, and so on- Everyone says the same: I’d never thought I would come so far. If you’d told my younger self what I did now, they would have run away frightened. But I want to be a writer, I want to be remembered, I wish to be remembered, and therefore I will not.