.... I just figured it was about time I started one of these. Considering I have so much crap I need to get out of my notebooks. I'm just going to post some stories(?) and the occasional doodle maybe...once a week, if I get reeeaaal motivated. XD Crits are welcomed

I wrote something
really short
at 12.30am
enjoy

**Thinking**
While half the earth is shadowed, the opposite side is lit.
A simple fact as unchangeable as the assurance that the world is always spinning, because the two go together like peas in a pod. Peas with exceptionally strong stems that will never wither and break.
I would never be so self-absorbed, so oblivious to scientific fact and the world around me, as to think that I will ever be the only person on this earth who is awake. As I lie here unable to sleep,the people of Shanghai are up and about and living their lives. Their side of the world is bathed in sunshine while mine is cloaked in darkness. There will never be a time when I am alone in alertness, fighting sleep. But sometimes on nights like these, I feel so isolated that it might as well be only me and my thoughts in a world of black.
-----

Guess what, i wrote this because i couldnt sleep. XD i just got up and blasted this out and i felt a lot better. I don't really like this because it doesn't sound like me, but it came out cleaner somehow than most of what I've been writing recently, so I went ahead and posted it anyway. I also want to add to it but I'm too lazy.
Your comments please?

Well, it's kinda brief but I don't know how you'd expand on it, though a series of thoughts such as this seem appropriate for maybe a blog entry. I dunno. Maybe.

Aha, a blog entry. That would be great if I had a blog.
I know it's brief, I guess you could say I was just posting to post, I didn't want to start a thread without anything in it. :/

Seems to be well written to me. I especially liked it when you said cloaked in darkness.
I have to see more before I can say anything else though.

So this is just where you talk about life? Nice, I like it.

yep, pretty much.
sorry guys, im out of town now and i dont want to spend too much time on the comp. typing stuff, so i cant update. im writing something now though so ill post it when i get back, hopefully... maybe... ok ill try at least. XD

IGNORE

ignore, comp spazzed. finished version coming now.

I wrote something long enough to actually be worth posting, yay. apologies in advance for words not being capitalized,I usually rely on spellcheck for that (cause I'm lazy) and it's broken. hmf.
here:
**stars and street lamps**

tonight, the street lamps shine even brighter than the stars. maybe because the sky is a deeper velvety black than usual, from the first clouds of a looming storm. the city feels clean in the silence, just me and my thoughts walking down an empty street. I would be completely alone if it weren't for the street lamps.
I hadn't wanted to end up the odd one out. before I'd boarded the train last night, I had promised my self that I would repress whatever freakish characteristic always placed me on the fringes of social gatherings. whatever family and friends could be scrounged up to celebrate Christmas at our old house hadn't seen me since before the accident, when grief had taken over and I'd begun my habit of retreating behind walls when someone came too close. I'd resolved that for just these two days, I would let myself flash back to who I was, always the life of the party, welcoming anyone with open arms. but I couldn't evoke that personality anymore, and the cozy chatting which followed dinner still repelled me, driving me out the back door when no one was looking.
I want to believe I don't need you with me to be happy, but I know that I do.
almost subconsciously I'm changing my course now,away from the oppressive city square. the streetlights are bugging me; their glare coupled with the roofs of the roofs of the taller buildings almost block the sky entirely. I wander instead past block after block of houses, out of the lifeless, stifling quiet to where the river meets the outskirts of the suburbs. I need some quality time with the stars.
the dark turbulent strength of the current still frightens me. it's too wild, too dangerous, a killer in disguise. I almost can't stand too look at the monster that seems to me like the cause of all my pain. the cause of the accident. your accident. your death, but mine as well, as everything that I liked about myself disappeared with yoo under the inky surface. memories flood through me, and I don't even try to hold them back-
"why the silly goose did you do that?!"
"it was the only way out!"
"it cant have been! there's always a better solution than fighting!"
"that's your crazy pacifist side talking again. Im telling you, that guy was ready to kill us!kill us and dump our bodies in te river."
"so you killed him instead?"
your bloody hands are shaking violently as you clutch the pistol, but you glare at me with as much defiance as ever. "maybe we were meant to fight. maybe he was meant to die because of me."
now I'm the one shaking, trembling in a cold breeze. "what are you talking about?"
your eyes, wild and terrified, bore into mine like yellow flashlights, forcing me to blink. "maybe we're meant to fight too."
I would never admit it, but I'm scared of you. you and your manic eyes, and the blood-soaked pistol in your right hand.
"you don't even sound like yourself. are you sure you're sober?"
you don't answer, but step toward me. I scream and lash out, shoving you away, harder than I meant to. your feet skid on the muddy riverbank, and I wait for you to throw out a hand and catch yourself, but you don't. I watch you plummet straight into the icy water, leaving behind nothing but a churning wake.
"no-"
I should have known you were too angry to control yourself, too kind to hurt me, too drunk to swim, too sad to care. instead I'm left staring at the river, helpless, with tears running down my cheeks, whispering-
"it was an accident."
I never wanted anyone to die, not even the smashed asshole who figured you would make a good manslaughter victim, and reached his death looking up the barrel of your pistol. in the end, though, it was me, you, and the river combined that took your life.
Christmas parties, empty streets, hot tears soaking bloodstained guns. pinpoints of light reflecting in the darkness, that joined together sometimes form constellations.
tonight, the street lamps shine even brighter than the stars.
I was wrong. the stars are always brighter.
----
i have flu, and just typing that out took all my energy, so I'm gonna go lie down. -_-' comments and critiques please!

When I was done reading this I was sitting here scared out of my pants. While I was reading it I got chills down my spine. This is just amazing, and you put a tonne of emotion into it which makes it even better. You have talent, in writing and drawing (oekaki C:) and I look forward to see what you do next.

thanks this is actually toned down from what I usually do, lol. I like writing violent stuff. XD

Hrmm, I do too...

WRITE MORE VIOLENCE PLOX

Yeah lets see it!

well you asked for it.
ok I'm gonna go write the most morbid thing I can think of.

well it's not morbid. IMO at least. ah well.
here, something short:

**five minutes to midnight/clockhands**
tick. tick. tick.
I'm watching the clock hands count down to my demise.
[i]tick.[i/] this room is so silent that very second has the power to fill my mind.
I was left here to die. there's something inside of me, something growing more quickly than I can cut it down, ready to take control.
that is their fear. if the disease takes my mind, I will be a monster, and they will be at my mercy. tyrants that they are, they are terrified of losing their power. it shines through even a natural protection of their lives.
for every life saved, one must be lost.
never comforting words, but even less so when I'm the one in danger. they told me that thinking that I'll be at peace knowing because they tested their weapon on me, and forced me into a condition that cannot be cured, the next victim might be spared that mistake. it doesn't matter. I don't want to die; I don't have a choice.
the dull headache that's chased me since I realized this is a germ that kills is roaring to life. I can't yank my eyes from the pendulum still swinging, slow, relentless. my head will burst, my veins filled with fire, if the minute hand keeps climbing- but of course, I don't have the power to stop it. my vision blurs red. this silent attic, empty except for dust and an old grandfather clock in one corner, is my grave.
tragedies don't seem real until you're one of them. all those front-page newspaper headlines, a murder in this town, a fire in that one, the flaming wreckage of a car collision smoldering at the conner of your street... why hadn't I prayed for them? given them something to grasp on to? maybe if I do now, they will pray for me, give em some connection to this world after I've left...
the clock hands click to a stop at 12:00, and the world fades away to black.