Excerpts - : ) - Good Riddance Writer's Block.

By dushechka · Oct 14, 2007 · ·
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  1. So I ended up writing something last night, at 3 am. It probably doesn't make sense, and it's most likely lame and pretentious. But I escaped the writer's block, and that's all I wanted. : p

    Enjoy and comment if you'd like?

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    The time has passed, incredibly quickly as usual. I’m afraid my mind is still cluttered, although I do believe things really are gradually improving. I suppose it’s only a matter of time though; until I too, disappear.

    In spite of those very grave facts, I have now some employment. It’s not a very respectful or honorable job, but it will use the time I have left, without much worrying on my part. I suppose I should explain what it is I’ve been employed to do — Supposedly I am to shadow one of the Head Officials, (a member of the People), in order to reveal any discrepancies they may be hiding. Possibly even a friendly relationship with the Hidden Defenders.

    I realize this is an absolutely horrible decision, but I have no choice in the matter. Every day I am dying from lack of activity— mental or otherwise. I must do something! And at least, this way, I am able to learn valuable information. Maybe not information that is valuable to me personally, but definitely to the Movement — a Movement I hope to grasp between my cold deathly fingers.

    Regardless of any respect I may lose, and the possible self destruction created by my own doing, my day begins tomorrow, and I pray to the One who made me, that it goes swiftly and painlessly.

    I suppose you’re now wondering why I chose to lower myself so. My answer will not sustain your curiosity, nor do I expect you to ever hope for my safe keeping again. All I have left, is my hope and dream that I may crack the cement that seals our fate. If I must lower myself, if I must take the blame and label as a destroyer of all that is good, if I must die a thousand undeserved deaths, I pray I may succeed.

    What must be done in order to succeed? I do not know, nor do I pretend to. I know I must survive; I must create in you a world of hope and dreams. How to achieve that, is completely over my head. I’ve jumped into a stream that is too deep; I must swim for my life. You may wave and flail your arms and feet, but if you are not I — and I am the one drowning — you will do nothing to neither amend nor seal my fate.



    The nights confuse me. The mornings taunt their power.

    I have not delved deep into our present troubles, and what we are to do about them. Such mystery; and so I will do my best to tear the sheet of failure apart.

    I try to write for the Cause and for Her, but I feel a sense of continual failure. What must be done in order to prove myself? Worst of all, why must I do this? Why must it end up like this?

    Such a stream of consciousness. Are my thoughts coherent? Am I babbling on to no apparent end? Was there ever an end to begin with? Or was there only a beginning? Am I to write my own ending, my own future, my own beliefs and happiness? Or is this a false conviction that I must take hold of and live by? Why do they torment us like this? Why do they pretend to care, and why do we blindly believe and follow them - Every single time - Why must it be so incredibly pathetic. On both sides; theirs and mine.

    She doesn’t know me. She doesn’t know why I look at her eyes and pretend she understands. I scare her. I always scare her. She loves someone else; this I fear to be true. Why it matters so, I do not know. Why it feels like my heart is being torn apart, I do not know.

    I fear the People now realize I am against them. They continually create havoc in my mind. They beat my sanity to its death. They cause such anger inside of myself. They jeer and scoff, kick and spit at me. And I am forced to take it. For if I do not, where will it get me? A trip to the Unknown perhaps? Or maybe a kick in the ribs? Possibly even a shot to the head. Who knows? Better it be to take the known, than risk the Unknown. Literally and figuratively.

    The dazzling night sky creates a spring of contentment. I know the future is distant and completely out of reach, I know I am not loved by Her, I know any hope for a politically stable life will never occur, yet I am grateful for this life. Grateful for the peace of night; and my dreams of Her.



    There is a light; a special beautiful unique light among us. What it does, how it works, we will never know. But it exists and our hope lies in that. Why we hope in such things is not known. Why we pray for the release of knowledge, for the knowing of the future is because we cannot wait, nor think, for one second in the present. The present is far too terrible to ponder… Far too terrible to imagine.

    Our future exists within each other, for that is all we have. Our mothers, fathers, uncles and aunts, friendships… they are all torn and tattered; pieces thrown against the winds of governments and rejection. What we have, what we profess to know and participate in, is not the present nor the past; but the future. Our future. The future we can smell and touch, the future we can shape and form into what is best. Yet, it is the same future that can falter and crumble if not taken cared of. The same future that will crumble. That will fail. If we ignore our own specific parts in the plan. If we are selfish and if we do nothing but live for our own selfish beings. And I am afraid of this. I am dreadfully scared, yet I know, the possibility is even more self aware than what we choose to believe.

    The philosophy of our society is simple. Live. One word. One meaning. Yet the strings attached to such a meaning are immeasurable. To live may involve simply breathing, yet it may also involve stealing, lying, manipulating even complete and utter backstabbing.

    Situations arise where our conscience knows not what is right, but what is possible for self improvement. What must we do to LIVE. Live for the sake of living. Nothing more nothing less. Unless of course you happen to be one of the few who lie and cheat for the fun of it. Their bellies are full and their needs have been met. Yet they must continue their walk of destruction, if only to join the People when the time is right.

    We must forgo all previous friendships, which does include family. Family is nothing and everything in times such as these. They will kill you or let you live.

    What we know is kept silent. And what we don’t know? That is screamed to the world.
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Comments

  1. Lemex
    Nice, I enjoyed reading this :)
  2. Funny Bunny
    I have been thinking of how to comment on your work. It is great stuff but it really bugs me. Let me try to use my humble silly brain here and try to define why I am bugged.

    I see this as truly from the brain of the character (Orwellian world, future time). These people went to school, but they learned only a few "sentence structures." Nothing remotely "creative" just sentences that were functional and "reported" So the sentences are "lock step," very grey and colorless. The sentences are within perfect character with the characters. I am somewhat bugged by the chameleon effect this produces. I actually do not see a writer behind this due to the style.

    I think if you are considering a "dawning" or metamorphosis for your mains, it would be brilliant to have utterly crazy sentences towards the end. Run-on's, fragments, repetition, the whole lexicon of Rhetorical tricks.
    It's an idea that would be supported by the structure, I think

    I like what you do, and would like to see more of it. Hopefully you do not have more blocks. Best wishes, FB
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