Night

On writing, art, design, books, and all the things that light up the darkest nights. Expect existential crises and Harry Potter spoilers.

[thestrangerdaily-blog]

There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night.

Albert Camus (via thestrangerdaily)

[vesperbryan]

Candles

We were candles. We thought we were matches. We tried to light the world. We realized the only thing burning. Was ourselves.

Now I’m perspiring,, Melting in molten agony, But at least I burn longer, Than matchsticks.

[vesperbryan]

Happy July!

Originally named Quintilis, being the fifth month in the Roman calendar, July now takes after Julius Caesar. As the month of his birth, July honors the Roman leader.

[vesperbryan]

Another year!

[sadviolences]

[vesperbryan]

Night turned 1 today! WOW.

[vesperbryan]

Metonymy

Metonymy,

Is the substitution of an associated idea for the thing itself.

I think the girl you know,

Is a metonym for me.

I think you mistook the fantasy,

For reality.

[vesperbryan]

Find the Words

Thanks, @starlitesymphony, for asking me to find help, challenge, dusk, and touch in my manuscript! I actually had multiple sentences for some of these, so I picked ones I liked :)

1) Help: I scream for him to help me, but the metal bead sticks to my tongue. 

2) Challenge: Challenges fade in the sunlight too.

3) (I should set a scene at dusk; I don’t have a sentence for it!)

4) Touch: I’m going to touch the water: the sharp jewels and glittering diamonds that break across the rocks.

I’m going to tag @scribble-dee-vee, @dolphin108, @writetowrite , @storysparksblog, and @theemberearthchronicles to find breath, gala, liquid, and tale in your manuscript! No pressure, and, as always, anyone else can do this too!

[sabrinah-writes]

Reblog if you’re a writer

Let’s see how big our wonderful community is

[dolphin108-deactivated20210526]

Hi @dolphin108! Your style sounds really cool! X, Z, and F for the get-to-know-the-writer ask game?

Thanks very much. I’ve always had doubts about whether my style works but let’s hope it does ;) Thanks for the asks too.

F: Do youprefer to write stand-alones or series?

I like seriesquite a bit, which probably stems from my love of Television, but my firstnovel plan was a standalone and still is planned to be one. I like playingaround with larger stories and really love a good cliff-hanger so really wantto implement them into my work.

X: Whatinspires you as a writer?

Anything thatpeaks my interest which is really a lot of things. I’ve got a lot of my ideasfrom gothic and natural images. Horror movies are also an inspiration. It’slike a weird mismatch of different things.

Z: What madeyou decide to write your story?

I don’t know.A mixture of my own ambition to finally finish a novel and being spurred on bymy friends. University as well has made me want to write it down. I do a fewcreative writing modules so it’s a great wee support.

[vesperbryan]

The Bus Ride

I was inspired by the last line tag, so I wrote into a poem! Hope you like it :)

The bus ride,

Is an empty space

Surrounded in squishy leather stones, I sit,

Hong-Kong-neon-blue illuminates my face.

In, out, in, out,

I breathe.

The soft clay of my mind stretches outward,

My scalp shifts and settles,

Sand on a shoreline.

Somewhere far beneath an earthquake threatens,

Encapsulating my soul and disrupting the gentle, steady rise, fall of life and air.

But I’ve forgotten to breathe again,

In, out, I start again, chest heaving like desperate waves on a shallow shore.

The magnitude of the fan grows until it is unbearable.

Dampness tightens my chest,

It sinks from the depths of the river through each pore and crevice,

Until it reaches my heart.

But at least here I can sit.

At least here, peace pokes through the outer sand to the depths of soul.

But just as we shouldn’t mistake Earth for Heaven,

I remember that the bus-ride,

Is not a home.

[vesperbryan]

Last Line Tag

Thanks @dolphin108 for tagging me! I loved your last line. Here’s mine (from my currently unnamed WIP!!!):

Just as we shouldn’t mistake Earth for Heaven, I remember that the bus is not my home.

I’m going to tag @thepoemsiwroteforyou, @spedthepoet, @plagueoftongue, @cfleury315, @agwood511, and anyone else who is interested!

[vesperbryan]

Happy July!

Originally named Quintilis, being the fifth month in the Roman calendar, July now takes after Julius Caesar. As the month of his birth, July honors the Roman leader.

[vesperbryan]

she was the sun

she was the sun, he used to say.

she was the stars, the planets, and everything beautiful, he whispered. she spoke again and again of all the places she had gone and would go.

she was the sun.

they were a match and matches burn.

she was the sun and suns set.

so she slipped across the horizon,

like melting mango water ice,

all smeared and icy,

always sweet.

she slipped into the ocean water,

sinking, falling as the moon replaced her in the sky.

the ocean welcomed her, cold tentacles engulfing her frame.

she was the sun,

And The Sun Had Fallen.

[vesperbryan]

CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA

I am brown gold,

Sweating, broken, sickly gold.

I am livery:

Fabrics gilding,

Human gold.

I am color,

Sun-washed streets and people.

Dark lips pillowing yellowed teeth,

Like shells around oysters.

I am elegance,

Antebellum curls,

Palm trees, magnolias,

My gold-leafed city.

[vesperbryan]

Candles

We were candles. We thought we were matches. We tried to light the world. We realized the only thing burning. Was ourselves.

Now I’m perspiring,, Melting in molten agony, But at least I burn longer, Than matchsticks.

[vesperbryan]

when u get this u have to answer with 5 things u like about yourself, publicly. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)

Thanks for the message @scribble-dee-vee! Boy, not easy though...

1) I try to be kind to everyone I meet2) I advocate for my beliefs3) I’m a hard-worker4) I like my life! (and I work really, really hard to get there some days)5) I’m a pretty smart bean

Yayaya positivity :)

[vesperbryan]

My Butterfly

My heart pumps so hard it hurts. It flutters, a butterfly muscle, Breaking the delicate walls of my body, Its cocoon.

The thought of each spider eye watching my hand in the air, Makes my little friend flip and twirl in terror, Of being eaten.

On my first test, the butterfly injures its wing. It tumbles, colliding with every branch, Until my hands turn white, my fingers blue,

I am waxy and dead without the butterfly.