Day 35, Prompt 25

Okay, this is a little different. This was done using my iPod (imagine that.) It was on random shuffle while I was in class, so I wrote down the titles to every song that seemed to make sense with this poem. A little choppy, but I like it!

Prompt: Being extremely bored in my creative writing class.

Sober, Midnight hands.

Somebody I used to know.


Hate me. Break me, shake me.



Smells like teen spirit.

Lose my breath.


Just Breathe.


Breathe into me.

Breathe me,

My hero,

Skin to bone

Gimme more!

Don’t Stop.

Day 35, Prompt 24

I’m SUCH a speed demon >;)

642 Things To Write About.

Prompt: Boxers or briefs? Discuss. (leave your feelings in the comments maybe?)

Both, but of course for very, very different reasons. Boxers are nice to wear (yes, I’ve bought boxers before. Comfortable as hell.) And usually, guys have real smart-ass, awesome clothes, so I just like what some boxers have written on them. I mean “Touch My Awesome Button“? “Protect Your Nuts“? Mr. Hankey on the butt of the boxers? Love them.

On the other end, briefs are sexy on guys. Enough said.


Day 35, Prompt 23

642 Things To Write About.

Prompt: Would you rather win the Nobel Prize or be a rock star?

Rock star. Don’t get me wrong, we need people who can win the Nobel Prizes. If I could win it with my writing, sure, I would love to, but I know I am not the next so-and-so to do something absolutely ground breaking. Nope. Rock and Roll. I would learn guitar, learn to sing, tour the world with my band members and win people over with music and lyrics. I’d also dress up very punk with the money I would get from my record deals, cuz, I mean, I AM a rock star after all. Have to look the part. Besides, some tattoos here, some spikes and rips there, and long hair, or maybe a down hawk. Awwwwwwww yeah. Would be so sweet~

Day 35, Prompt 22

This is from 642 Things To Write About…AGAIN.

Prompt: What would you run out of the house with if your house caught on fire?

First thing I would grab…and I am SO unashamed to admit this! Would be my baby blankets. But then I would quickly run to my cats and pick them up. I usually have my iPod and phone in my pocket, so I’m fine there. If I had time, I would grab my Mac, though only after making sure my cats were safe. I would also try to grab my script that I wrote. Yep, those are about the things I care most about. (Not one much for pictures.)

Day 22, Prompt 21

So this is from (#339 on the list). I like their prompts. Short and simple. Plus it’s not turning through a bunch of pages, forgetting which ones I have already looked at.


Write about 5 things you would do to entrain yourself if you did not see a soul for 7 days.


Well, the first thing I would reach for is my iPod. I love music, I love singing (even though I’m not good at it), but that should keep me entertained during most of my time spent is isolation. But of course, not just music alone. I would write too. Write everything. From character profiles to rants about how bored and lonely I was, to short scenes and poems based off of the music I was listening to. I would draw too. I’m not good at drawing, quiet honestly, sometimes I just get frustrated, but that should provide a few hours of entertainment. Next, I move to the Inception app, turning the quiet space I found myself locked in into different dreams and situations. This would probably keep me entertained for a few hours as well. Then I would just think. Think about writing and the characters I created. Think about my life, how happy or sad I was. I would try to lose myself in different worlds, whether they were my own or not. I would probably think about my favorite movies or shows, replaying scenes or creating my own. I could imagine that this could take up a huge chunk of time while I was alone because I tend to think a lot. Those are my 5 things.

Day 20, Prompt 20

I’m kind of depressed, can you tell?


Anyway, this is also from 642 Things to Write About.


Prompt: Put Your iPod on random shuffle, write down the lyric of the first song  that comes on, and use it as an opening line.


Song: “I Can Barely Say” by The Fray


I said I told you everything. As you can imagine, I didn’t. I’m not sure I would be able to tell you everything. That’s such a frightening word…everything. I couldn’t tell you how I cried my hardest today, knowing you were gone, that I’d never get you back. I couldn’t tell you how pathetic I felt, whimpering like a child. I couldn’t tell you how I felt you completed me, and we were only just friends. I couldn’t tell you the hate I harbor and the depression I face. How now nothing held any meaning to me. You are my everything…everything. There is that word again. But that is what you were. You were the reason I looked forward to each day. The reason I would look my best, even when I felt my worst, even though I would lie and say that I was doing okay while the world around me fell apart and continues to crumble away. I can’t tell you how selfish I am for needing you when you don’t need me…but how selfish you are for walking away…

I suppose I am used to it though. All the years of everyone leaving me. Friends and family. It’s not so different. It’s just the same. Hopefully, one day, someone will find me and think I am their everything…

Day 20, Prompt 19

I had this nightmare shortly after watching the Exorcism of Emily Rose. It scared me in the moment, but in the morning, it was kind of funny to me that I would have a nightmare about that scene of her being pulled into the bed, especially because I hardly ever dream (on account of the whole, “Slept so deep, like a rock, dead to the world.) It was a very good scene, one of the scenes I loved most in that movie. One thing is for sure, I will never forget that scene now.


Prompt: What’s the worst nightmare you remember?


It was dark in my room as I slept. All was very still, there wasn’t a sound in the entire house. I watched myself as I slept. I slept so deep, like a rock, dead to the world around me, but then I started to hear voices. Hisses piercing the calm, night air. They started so quietly that I could barely decipher them, could barely even register that they were there. I look down as I feel something crawl up my leg, and suddenly, I am back in my drowsy body, squinting my eyes. Fingers traipse up my legs and past my hips, as if climbing up my body. The whispers grow louder until it is as if someone is in the room with me…as if multiple people are in the room with me.

I start to open my eyes, not able to ignore the voices anymore.


But there is no one there.


The fingers turn into fists, grasping at my rips, waist, and shoulders. I let out a scream, but a hand covers my mouth as I kick and rock myself, trying to break free, but the arms stretch across my legs, holding them steady with incredible force. The hands, black as the night itself, too large to be the hands of a human, begin to pull me into my mattress, as if the cushion where going to swallow  me whole. I cry as I hear my rips crack, the pressure and pain forcing the air out of my lungs.


Then I wake up, gasping, still feeling the remnants of the hands on my chest. It was so hard to breath…but it was only a dream…


…It was only a dream…

Day 20, Prompt 18

This is from 642 Things To Write About.


Prompt: Write ten sayings for fortune cookies.


Don’t look back, you will loose your footing.


People may forgive, but they never forget.


Think before you speak. Words can not be unsaid.


Be big in your own way.


Open your heart, one day love will come in.


You could have eaten this paper, be thankful you didn’t.


Every person you meet is fighting thier own fight. Tread lightly.


Count each star. You’ll remember they are there even when it is too dark to see.


Nothing is accomplished by those who sit idly by.


Turn the page and start anew. A blank page is waiting to be filled by you.



Day 18, Prompt 17

Busy busy busy…

This is about Liam again. GOD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH


Just a short paragraph about his daily routine and all, just like the prompt asked for…Yea, that’s about it.


Prompt: Write a single paragraph that conveys a lot about a character’s life. Think about how this can be achieved with voice and rhythm and repetition.


Walking. Walking from my room to the front door of the castle. Running. Running down the trail, leading to the church, the church I ran to every morning before the sun had even risen, the sky gray before the dusk. I pause, if only for a few minutes, kneeling before an alter, never praying, but always hoping that my mother has found peace. After my stint of silence, I run back into the Capital City and then walk to my first meeting. Then my second. Then my third, only breaking to smoke a cigarette to calm my nerves. I walk to one last meeting. I walk to my study. I read over proposals, read bills and laws, read into the enemies tactics, read into my allies’ lies. Then I walk. Walk back to my room where I lay my head down and stare up at the ceiling until the start of another day.