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Author Topic: The Creative Writing Thread  (Read 18909 times)

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NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #120 on: April 16, 2013, 04:22:35 PM »
Hmm... Therein I agree to disagree. :)

For I feel knowledge of technical aspects stimulate the creative process. Keats' book of letters are a sordid proof for my theory. And so is Vonnegut's discourse for writers. And so is this one essay by Aldous Huxley (the greatest prose writer to ever exist).
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #121 on: April 21, 2013, 04:53:04 PM »
Okay, this is lyrics to a song I once made, because I've been told I'm hard to get. Well, am I? I doubt, but here it is:-

Enter Inside a Girl's mind.

Verse 1:
Lost and Intoxicated
Baby you seem so Jaded
Violent yet restrained, mate
Unconciously X-rated

Pre Chorus 1:
Lucid dreamer's paradise
It's lyin' around all over me.
I'm the God of my vision-eye,
strugglin' sort of hard to break free.
I've already failed twice.
But without you I'm incomplete.
Failing so hard to soar up so high,
But you leave me seamingly discrete.

Chorus:
Now I'm gonna live and let die.
I'm off to give it a try.
Opened in and closed inside,
No, "God don't play no dice"
That damned genius Einstein!

Verse 2:
Blessed are the broken hearted
'Cause we can't seem to have it started
You don't seem to get a damn yet,
I guess that's why I'm left delayed.

Pre Chorus 2:
I promise to get over you,
As soon as I suppose I can.
But for that you'd have to see me through,
Before I sink in quick sand.
I've already failed thrice,
But if it ain't there I won't be free from you.
Flappin' wings, and 'nother try to fly,
well you see, that that don't make no sense too.

Chorus 2:
"The universe is expanding
Along the timeline it's cooling,"
My mind's on verge of exploding!
Annihilating disipanig,
Is the big bang, oh Hawking!

Break Down:
Scar tissues,
Lined disputes,
Entrance refused.
Lost in blues,
Paradise for fools,
Don't believe you.
(no) You didn't do,
Anything to
Me but still I
(Need to get over you)x4

(Ending Verse-ish tone):
I'm unconciously X-rated,
Violent, yet restrained mate!
(You jaded?)

(Has it's own tone, it's just an end):
(Enter inside a girl's mind)-3
And you will find... (ME!)
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #122 on: April 22, 2013, 12:07:30 PM »
This type of prose piece is called snapshot, and it is often read as a monotone narrative. This is another "Evening Walk"

Coffee mug, walk in autumn, dense clouds, park benches, huge trees, squirrels playing, myrah chirps, my neighbour kid called Myrah too, a pink ball, orange dress, two pig tails, my trench coat, red swings, grey pavement, green grass, orange sky, red sun, red leaves, autumn.

An evening walk, Myrah's smile, other kids, their games, fight for swings, and other things, sun stays, autumn days, chai wallah, five rupees a cup, ginger flavour, "malayi maar ke", chana jor garam, blue see saws, yellow slide.

Mothers all around, ranting housewives, husbands' gossip, five rupee teacup, grey finger-less gloves, noobie upper ear piercings, an racy among other things, "what's up with kids these days?", shaking head, walking away, Myrah stops, she greets, kiss her cheek, walk.

Grey building, faded blue jeans, staircase seen, a footstep following another, right foot first in entrance, oak wood door, own floor, door bell, ding dong, the familiar song, opens door, familiar face, and a rant about the human race.
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #123 on: April 22, 2013, 12:10:45 PM »
I forgot to add some theory:

Malayi maar ke is a term for "extra creamery"
Chana Jor Garam is often eaten with masaala ginger tea. (chai)
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

RoseHudson

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #124 on: April 22, 2013, 03:49:17 PM »
"I didn't mean to hurt her.

Liar!

I loved her.

Liar!

I lost myself to fear. If I could do things differently I would.

Liar!

I could spend eternity in this moment, never let her leave. Liar! You took her body, her heart, her soul, then ended it. Suicide is an art form. Everything needs to be positioned just right. You accomplished it. Even she thinks she killed herself. The smile on her face, beautiful as always. You did good kid, now if only you could convince yourself but I'll always be here to remind you what we did. We broke her. We're a liar."

I find it's much more fun to read in the voice of Gollum/Smeagle :D
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RoseHudson

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #125 on: April 22, 2013, 04:01:12 PM »
"You don't have my inflection
but you have my infection
The one I got from the girl with the nicotine stains and the track marks from a past not left behind, the one I watched walk away into the night.
And even tho I know the fault was my own, I can't help but feel like I was just taken along for the ride
And dropped off along the way and left this empty shell I've become today

The inflection you hear in my voice is that of a cynical man
The infection deep down in my bones is that of a broken down kinda
Foriegn drug that doesn't leave a trace but the withdrawl is a hell to face
Alone but alone I will stay cos I'm better of this way, a heartless procrastinate"

The first two lines came from a conversation. She then told me that it would make an awful song so I set out to prove her wrong at 1 o'clock in the morning, I'd say it went well.
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NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #126 on: April 22, 2013, 04:14:31 PM »
Reminds me of Mad Men's Midge. :\

Though there always comes a miracle to make you love your life! :tongue: Try writing something positive instead?
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

RoseHudson

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #127 on: April 22, 2013, 04:21:14 PM »
I wrote something positive. :tongue:

"I started ti cry
But my dreams didn't die
I looked that wise man in the eye, and said"

http://soundcloud.com/kurt-rose-nelson/vagabonddemo

The proof is in the pudding!
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If you vote for somebody else, "You're making as much sense as Adler after a drug cocktail!"

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NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #128 on: April 23, 2013, 04:36:09 AM »
A five minute short snapshot: Just another Saturday Night.

Sophie and Roger have been lying there for hours now. Too tired to continue what they started. Too bored to sleep. The room was pinkened with that stupid scarf Sophie would tie on the lights, concealing the white of the walls. The window was facing the red traffic walking away. The radio blazing something between alternative and punk, voiced by a walrus. Roger wanted to be a man of courage, and he picked the given time.

"Soaf, I'm off," he sad, moving from his side of the bed. The red head in his sheets wouldn't even stir. Women, he thought. He found his jeans nearby. Parts of his back were aching sick. Nails went in too deep. The room smelled like an ashtray, playboy musk for women, bike dust, and sweat. Roger found a t-shirt that seemed clean. He thought a second, and threw it on anyway.

"Where are you going?" said Soaf, still in the sheets. Her outline coming perfect. She looked like an upset and seduced and wasted Goddess. That's just how Roger treated her, mostly.

"Band's got a book at Roxy's," Roger said. I have told you that before, woman, he though.

Soaf shook her head. "You know what?" she said, "get lost!" And lay back on her side again.

"Come on, baby," said Roger, trying to wheedle his way in.

"Fucking, go already!" she said, throwing the ashtray at him.

"Soaf-"

"GO!"

Somewhere Roger knew that Sophie was aware at his failed attempts at monogamy. Doesn't mean that he never tried. Just that she had her moods, and sometimes, the figure of her would... Roger drooled away that thought, while putting on shoes.

"Okay, baby, I'm goin'," he said. Sophie wasn't even listening. Pretending to sleep? What a bitch!

Roger grabbed his jacket and left. Tonight it's the boys, woman.
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #129 on: April 23, 2013, 09:10:40 AM »
Another easy write-up, called Birt of an Alter-Ego.

I saw her once, broken, tired, dead at my feet. Aye, she was me. I was as her as she ever could be. And there she lay, dead at my feet. Dead she was, dead I took, corpse of me I bore. The corpse, yes, 'twas, that I bore on my shoulder.

I carried her to my lodgings, the very property that was mine. And there she lay bleeding on my finest carpet. The one soiled red with the blood of the one I know not. Yes, there she lay, bleeding to life. Life that escaped her to never find it's way back to her insides again. Life that soiled my finest carpet.

She lay there bleeding to life, and I knew there was something to do, and that I shall. I shall find out what to do with her, how to prevent her life from bleeding out. And I ran to my old clothes, which I tore for bandages. Clothes, the ones I wore to look pleasant, now in shreds in my hands. Clothes, that will be used as bandages, to heal the wounds of the one I need not heal.

And there she lay, ruining my finest rug. I could have left her on the matting, they are indeed a waste. But the carpet is already ruined. I brought cold water, and ointment, and warm water, and towels, and of course, the said bandages. And there she lay, motionless in my care, bleeding to life.

Before I continue, bless you, I'm no doctor, this you should know. No! A doctor, I am not. Nor am I humane enough to help the dying. But she was me, and how could I not help? How could I ever let her bleed?

I washed the wounds, oh how deep they were! No wonder she bled so, she was broken, that dear. Bless her, for she needs it. If only blessings could save. I washed her wounds with cold water, and stopped the bleeding to an extent. But drained out of life, she lay; motionless as dead. And if I may have a say, (which I need not ask for, the story is entirely mine) how colorless she was, drained out of life! With skin, that was colored as a stone.

I anointed the wounds, and bandaged them, the basic healing I learnt from my mother, my, how easy it is! But oh, no life. I let warm water vapours on her body, heat is life, and this she needs. I did so, whilst holding her pulse. Aye, holding her pulse, I was. Stopped and dead, like a clock with exhausted batteries. But there was a pulse. There was life. Aye, life bled to her.

Life was her. She was I.

I was life.

Note: Repetition is for the flow of imagery. I'm experimenting with a storytelling style I read in a descript, somewhere the narrative merges with the Ancient Mariner.
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #130 on: April 25, 2013, 12:47:42 PM »
This is the surprise hiding for my mother....
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

abaraxas

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #131 on: September 24, 2013, 02:51:57 PM »
That's a bit of a letdown, Id have shit in a corner somewhere  :notbad:
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the_relic

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #132 on: March 18, 2017, 11:12:54 AM »
put my peenuh in a vaginuh coming atcha
gonna gonna splash yeah with come
backs
and lunch packs
with pudding and meat
but cant forget to eat
dat fire puss
and mutha fucking tired y'wuss
got the tongue game on point
anoint
myself
the best
yes better than the rest
im fucking around
down town bumming the sound
of egos that crown them
eagles of roooooooooound
about skills like illest for realist
gotta take my flow down town
to a dealer for dealest.

seriously though, im just super tide and im going to bed. night y'all. this killed aa minute of my time.

Backfromthedead

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #133 on: March 22, 2017, 01:38:45 PM »
 :notbad:  :coffee