Writer's Side

Feel free to submit subjects I could write about! All my stories can be found via the buttons below.

[writer-side]

Scraps: Blurbs

Genuine, the word that has become half of itself with time. Just like the rest of us.

[writer-side]

Scraps

I was always told that I’d amount to something someday. That I’d become a part of something amazing, great, remarkable. 

But that was then, and as of now all I know is that my list of ailments is becoming something extraordinary from what things I thought awaited me when I took my first steps out of home into the rest of life. 

Sure, they taught you in school that it’s important to be proactive. They taught you that two plus two always equaled four. But what they never taught you was how such a simple thought could spiral into a heavy reminder of what was, and what wasn’t. How every time I think about that problem I think about the best of the group, and how I always envied that talent. How every decision you made was what you wanted and not what was in store for you. You have trouble eating, but you’ve grown from eating too much. You can’t reverse the effects or the decisions you made to get to where you are. You just don’t feel right.

When you’re finally exhausted and not sure how to feel you just exist until your next daily task. Always in motion, never changing.

And from here it’s quite easy to see, you have deteriorated.

[writer-side]

Scraps: Blurbs

“What do you mean by that?” He exclaimed. “Do you really find me that hard to be around? Was everything you spent years telling me all a farce until your better option came around? I don’t understand.” 

His friend reluctantly opened his mouth, pausing momentarily to make sure what he said next mattered. He had spent years dealing with him, always making sure to keep quiet when he wasn’t sure what to say. Perfectly basking in the emotion he so clearly gave off hoping he could one day understand what it meant to be true to yourself and open to others. Softly he murmured, “My problem isn’t you, it’s never been you. You’ve always been the one thing in my life that I could count on. My problem isn’t that, friend. My problem lies in myself because I can’t properly slow down to appreciate how much you do and how difficult I am.”

His friend froze, eyes turned away. What he didn’t understand was that his friend always understood that. His friend did it because he knew that otherwise they would not have been friends at all. Then he would feel truly alone.

[writer-side]

Scraps: Blurbs

It was an interesting feeling I had been left with in the end. Nothing but good intentions drew what became the hole in my chest.

[writer-side]

Scraps: Blurbs

I wanted to go to sleep, but there have always been monsters at my bed.

[writer-side]

Scraps: Monologues And Assholes

     Things have a real funny way of coming together when you least expect it. For me, things seemed to fall into place when everything fell out of place. To be quite honest, I never understood the meaning of responsibility and to this day I still don’t really get it. I feel like it’s just something that’s designed to make people who do what they do special. Like, “oh, I got my front yard raked after looking at the leaves for the past two weeks. Check it out.” But in reality, did you stop to think about having to do that versus not doing it? Maybe it actually had some detrimental effect on your living space, like now you won’t have that wonderful fall vibe to everything. Maybe you could have left them and let them decompose for the soil, so then you wouldn’t have to use fertilizer later. There are several different things you could’ve done, was raking the leaves really that important. It doesn’t make you responsible, it just makes you active. But, activity is another beast entirely.

    I snapped out of my own monologue. My boss continued ranting to me about my responsibility to uphold company standards and how I needed to assert myself more. The guy was a proper air head, and he could’ve used a little deflating right around now. Seems I was the one who got drafted to whiff it in and proceed to talk like I had just been kicked down under with the wrath of seven kangaroo feet. His gray suit depicted his bland attitude, and he probably wore a t-shirt underneath it all that read “World’s Top Asshole”. The shined shoes told me that he had too much time on his hands, and worried too much about what others thought. His pants, perfectly ironed like his will to put you down, and then don’t even get me started on the pompous haircut.

[writer-side]

Scraps: Blurbs

The routine had become too monotonous. She had grown tired of me, and I began to grow tired of me too.

[writer-side]

Blurbs

It was moments like those that made me wonder why I ever bothered to get out of bed.

[writer-side]

Scraps: Some Time

It's been quite some time since we last talked. You were happier back then, with that bright smile of yours. It seems these days that I hardly get to see that light anymore. What was it that I did to fade out the shine, what threw you off track? Did I try too hard for you? Was it because I was in such a rush to grow up and you weren't ready to let me go yet? I understand how you feel, at least I do now. Looking back on everything I can't help but feel maybe I rushed into things a little too much, but everything turned out okay. I'm alone in this apartment now, with two people who enjoy my company but it doesn't quite feel like home. What is that special ingredient I'm missing? I hope you'll tell me, because I still don't feel quite happy. I don't suppose I will ever really feel right, until everything is right. I walked around and told everyone to say what they meant, and meant what they said. Ultimately though, I suppose it was all fluff when it came down to it.

I blew through my money again, just like I always seem to do. Hah, it seems that you couldn't quite teach me what you wanted after all. But, I sure do manage to keep my living space clean. I wonder how much longer I can continue with this routine of mine. How much longer I can keep running away from my problems, that is. This confidence of mine isn't as real as I hoped it would be. Did I ever get the chance to tell you that I'm stuck with these reoccuring problems? Eczema, which seems to be the worst of it. What exactly will I do to make this all seem okay again?

How can I get back on the path that we talked about when I was a kid. When can I feel comfortable smiling?

[writer-side]

Scraps: Blurbs

Broken Bones make up broken people, but broken souls make up the rest.

[writer-side]

Scraps: Blurbs

I've grown so tired, I have trouble telling if I'm awake or not.

[writer-side]

Scraps: Whoever Said..

Whoever said that things got easier in time, never experienced the total destruction of one's face during a breakdown. To that same degree, whoever said that things would turn out okay never looked someone in the face and stood up for something they truly believed in. There are events in our lives that define who we are, but more than the occasional cliche' goes. 

See, saying "I love you" to the person you've never pictured yourself next to is the same as saying eat me when presented to a lion. The bite still leaves a mark, and the hands still leave prints. You're touched by everyone around you, and you are blessed by those who value your time. But, time is a funny thing in the sense that nothing lasts forever. People like us understand that, and that's what makes everyday a little worse.

Defined by the shouting, defined by the let downs, defined by people who come and go, and defined by our own desires. We are a flawed species that knows how to wear a tough face. 

See, the whole point is that things don't get easier. They get worse from the day this wheel starts turning. You can't change the things you've done, the ones you've loved. The pieces of you that you've devoted to others, the parts that were rejected. The ones you rejected, and those who believed that they could promise you to be there always. 

After one little slip, your entire grip on reality can be destroyed. But, whoever said that you can recover from it has not experienced it. You will never forget, and it defines who you are. Sometimes your greatest weakness can become your greatest achievement. At least, until you find that trigger again. 

[writer-side]

Scraps: Coffee Shop Sundays

Early morning coffee shop trips were an activity that my younger self cherished. Sitting down in the company of another, biting down on an iced pastry. Burning your lips on the hot drink you were given, as if your company was reminding you of the warm embrace that can be found everyday.

I used to admire the way you looked, and those Sunday mornings we spent together. You would tell me tales of greatness, of a future I had yet to grow into. I was excited, I was enthralled. But most of all, I felt love. Love for the world, love for my situation, love for you, and love for this shop.

We’ve grown older now, and I’ve become cold to the lies. Tired of the hardships I’ve faced, and the people I’ve met. Yet, I still stop every now and then at our old spot. It overwhelms me with discontent, and I miss the promise over the reality. But I still find an enjoyment in our old routine in this silly coffee shop. I still imagine us together, talking about these plans. But at the end of the day, it’s never quite the same because you’re not here anymore.

[writer-side]

Scraps: Blurbs

With every blink, He grew a little bit more tired of everything he saw.

[writer-side]

Scraps: The Funny Thing Is..

People change over time, and it was something that became as apparent as the day and night cycle on a standard 24 hour cycle. In such a way that everyone experiences the perspective of time differently, although we all function relatively the same around a routine defined by mannerisms. Mannerisms built during adolescent exposure to real problems that became their children's problems later on down the line.

See, the funny thing is that we all expected somebody else to handle the problem for us. From a boy who didn't get along with his mother, to the daughter who felt coddled by an overprotective dad who wanted nothing more than to help his daughter succeed. Everything was laid out the wrong way from day one. Sitting in the grand scheme of things, the ball was set in motion a few days after birthday celebrations.

Bigger and better things, that's the idea right? Some have the strength to keep taking the hits while carrying everyone else, and others have the will to make the decisions that make others hate them. Blame them, for the things they could think but never fathom to say.

The funny thing is, everyone is the same. But we all sit and point the finger from person to person, screaming accusations and demanding respect. Who are you really? What have you done? Where is your real problem, and did you face it? Do I carry it now, or does your best friend?

Ultimately, the question really stands still. Are you willing to be a person who truly changes, or are you willing to fit the rest of the mold?

Go on, really it's okay. The funny thing is, you're always right. 

[writer-side]

Scraps: Blurbs

The New Year's ball dropped and at the same time, so did my stomach.

[writer-side]

Scraps: Blurbs

From the dip in your neck to the curve of your legs. I could love every piece of you, and you still wouldn't accept it.