I Do Not Love You
I do not love you; I love the you I thought that I knew.
I do not love you; I love the you I thought that I knew.
I want to be seen, yet cannot bear to show myself.
I want my readers to come away from my story truly understanding why my characters feel the way they do | think the way they think | act the way they act, or if they do not then I hope they will at least ask themselves "Why?" I want people
When you turn the mind's eye on itself, what do you see?
I'm just gonna raw dog this one onto my blog. If attempt to read this, I wish you luck.
"Are you sure this is the place?" Steven asked, trying his best to keep the disdain out of his voice. "Yeah man," Howard said. "This place is fuckin' sweet!" He clapped Steven on the shoulder. Steven internally recoiled from the touch, but suppressed the urge to do so physically.
"Close your eyes." They say. I obey; shutting the world of structure, order, sensation out, and I peer into the storm within. For inside, there is only the fractal static, an indescribable galaxy of misfiring cones & rods branching off into new shapes, new forms, new patterns, all
Picking what to write about is often the hardest part about writing for me; Not because I don't have anything to write about - good lord no, I could yap on & on & on about so many things. No, it's because this very act of