SWXMP
Hey could you all please check out this visual project I made to my friends poem : SWAMP : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICiMRvq_V1Q&t=6s
d e v o n

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almost home

Product Placement
ojovivo
taylor price
KIROKAZE
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dirt enthusiast

roma★
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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sheepfilms
Monterey Bay Aquarium
hello vonnie

JVL
Peter Solarz
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Three Goblin Art
trying on a metaphor

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@voiddragon
SWXMP
Hey could you all please check out this visual project I made to my friends poem : SWAMP : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICiMRvq_V1Q&t=6s
Vampire Tales issue #9 (1975)
Art by Josep Martí Ripoll
Source
Morbo #1 - Editorial Bruguera, S. A., Spain 1983. Cover art by Manuel Prieto Muriana.
Manuel Prieto Muriana - Borro, der Zombie, c. 1970s.
When we get to Heaven,
do you think we will ever
smell something
that reminds us of Earth?
God willing,
I hope to smell the rain,
if only for a moment, a breath,
that I might remember it
shadowing my tears
and befriending my pain.
Maybe that old smell will remind me
of the mud from where I came.
WCS
my writing fundamentally changed forever ten years ago when i realized you could use sentence structure to control people’s heart rates. is this still forbidden knowledge or does everyone know it now
?????? *raises hand* I’ve been writing for years and don’t know this trick by these words! do tell?
Okay, so a few people have asked for me to cite the dark magics at them, and i’m super happy to share because it’s my favorite thing ever.
so, let’s see if i can explain this the same way that i learned. read a sentence out loud. you come to a full stop when you hit the period, and you take a normal, breath. but, when you hit a comma, you take a slightly longer pause. and when you hit a dash - you take an even longer pause.
this is a natural rhythm that we pick up when we’re first taught to read; we do it without even thinking. but when you start to think about it, you realize that it can become a tool.
think of your heartbeat. a period is badump. a comma is badump-dump. and a dash is thump badump. one breath. a longer breath. two breaths.
that means what you read automatically affects the rhythm of your breathing and your heartrate. which means that you can control the amount of physical tension your reader feels… by altering your punction and your sentence structure.
for fast paced scenes, you use short sentences. a lot of hard stops. mostly periods, with just a few comma’s thrown in for the full breath. your reader’s heartrate accelerates. their breathing is slightly and unintentionally, on their end, quicker. you hit the dramatic ending of the scene - and your reader’s body phsyically feels the gasp, the breath of fresh air, of these longer sentences.
now, read that paragraph again ant take note of your natural pauses, and how it subtly affects your breathing.
the same thing can be said of comma’s and dashes. while they can be used as a breath of fresh air, they can also cause a new line of tension as they lead your reader to hold their breath. during this section, you should use longer sentences; breaking up the harshness of the pauses by using variations of punction. read this paragraph out loud from the start and take note of how long you go between pauses and full breaths.
and then, comes the biggest trick.
the hard stop.
the paragraph.
because while the periods, commas, and dashes are variations on a short stop, the paragraph is a hard stop. you take a full breath. you pause for a moment, then move to the start of the next paragraph.
which means you can create an entirely new sort of dramatic tension. read the sentences that are in bold. see how you take a naturally longer pause at the end of each paragraph?
see how it makes you feel?
how it makes you breath different?
how doing it once, twice, or three times creates a different line of tension?
this little magic trick can be used to cause a reader’s heartrate to speed up during a fight or chase scene. it can be used to cause their breathing to slow down during moments of dramatic tension, sorrow, or softness. and it can be used to create hard breaks that add a new level of physically felt emphasis to your written work.
i hope these examples make sense! it’s my favorite writing trick!
Out loud
I never read out loud anymore.
I say it all in my head
because
it is.
I build the bridges of meaning and arrive
somewhere
written:
where our tree grows wild
with its roots in the sky;
where emerald leaves
glitter in
a while-away wind;
where stories are needed
to explain all
things
and yet
none are to be told.
And I never say what I mean anymore.
I say it only in
my head
because
it is.
I burn the bridges of meaning and watch
my future meet
the abyss,
and all because
I’m not ready even
to contemplate
another tomorrow.
Writing music episode 2
Writing music episode 1
#space #ethereal #breakcore #studymusic #writingmusic
i will wade out, e.e. cummings
is it too much to ask that I want to read more of my book but don’t want to be the one to write it????
8.3.22
24 July 2022
So true
If you fall,
Fall into my eyes that want to adore you with all the light and beauty in them,
Fall into my arms that want to embrace you with utter warmth and hold you so you never feel alone,
Fall into my heart that wants to meld itself with yours and give you all it holds,
Fall endlessly and without fear,
I will always be there to hold you and give you everything beautiful and good that lives in me.
e.v.e.
xxxxxxx
The year is 2184, average earth temperature has doubled, only a few million people remain on earth. A green-movement managed to travel back to 2022. What are they doing? Preserved in glycerin, a less than ideal human specimen was found under layers of sand and ash in a vast dessert noted a associate scientist. A scrawny, but not weak, small framed woman was stuck in a fierce pose they continued. Despite all the fancy equipment they had on their ship, the scientist knew they could not revive her.
"Maybe we could augment her brain to signal memories..." said the associate aloud to herself.
(part 1)
The light of passing stars blink the frozen body into view as the ship soars to its destination. Her glycerin prison had been polished to near invisible and shaped to her figure, leaving an only and inch in radius. Left in a padded storage room in a cargo ship, not abandoned by the scientists, but paused until they reach their laboratory.
“Will the augmentation to her brain really allow her to actively speak?” Asked the associate.
After a long drag of a pipe, “no, it will allow her memories to take the form of thoughts again giving her the ability to speak, but not actively. More…” another pull, “recite words, respond to prodding, but not thoughtful respond.” Said the head scientist. Her name is dr. Vera Dawn. Not much needs to be know about her besides she is feared by her colleagues. The associate awkwardly smiled…
(Part 2) of the women lost in glycerin
Medical journal notes. Memory extraction series alpha : test 1 : awaken any thought.
The glycerin encased women was submerged in a tank of translucent turquoise liquid. A serious looking wired helmet was fastened to her head. Wires lead from the helmet to hundreds of machines, where dozens of scientists were prepping for their first attempt at reinvigorating memories.
A figure polluted in smoke fumes stood on a balcony above, watching the bustle like a queen to her bees.
Between a drag and an exhale she spoke - “now over never…” she pressed down on an intercom button. “Ready the machines for my arrival.” Ran her raspy voice.
By the time she arrived to the floor, all the bustle had stopped. Every person in the room was at her attention. Slowly walking, dropping a chased cigarette she approached a screen. After a few touches and swipes, and a imaging of an iris all the machines in the room began to click into action.
There was a still in time. A long pause where working machines and held breaths were the only sounds in the air.
Dr. Dawn sparked her lighter startling everyone else in the room. She pulled hard, nearly the full cigarette while lighting it. Then it happened.
“That’s not a cloud… That’s a sand storm!” Blasted from an amplifier attached the the women in glycerin.
Dr. Dawn smirked and finished her cigarette with her second pull.
(Part 3) of the women lost in glycerin
Sand encapsulated the sky. In an instant the world snapped from day to night for those caught in the tsunami of sand. Kyra was one of many buried in sand, unlike all others she was to be dead before the weight of the sand impacted.
Kyra was a factory worker, at a flower preservation plant. Where one could get a unique flower dipped and coated to last forever in bloom. As others fled the factory in terror as the news of the storm was coming, Kyra continued to trim and work a rose to perfection. Readying it to be preserved before the storm. The last rose.
The looming terror of death was still in the back of Kyra’s mind as she dipped and placed the rose to harden. Almost as fast as the thought came she acted.
Jumping into the large vat of glycerin, to die the way of the rose, in enteral beauty…
(Part 4) of the women lost in glycerin