Who am I?
Well, that's an interesting question. Before you all ask- yes, for once this IS a true story.
Not romance, sorry
Rock the boat then test the waters, blue. Stirring the quiet into ripples that echo on cue.
Screw living by other people’s wishes. Live for YOURSELF and find what YOU want to do!
Once in a theatre class that I was in, the professor told us to right a stream of consciousness that started with the words "I am" and she let me turn mine into a monologue for the final :') so she ei...
I was walking one day and this story is what I imagine when I think about what would’ve happened if I had stopped to talk to that stranger I saw.
A short and sweet poem about how women shouldn't compare themselves to other women. A lot of women look to other women for things about them that they wish they had, but in reality, they're likely loo...
Type: Thought's Teaser
Description: We are observers, and the observed at one point or another. Serving a purpose unknown to us, that supports the eminent mission of our lifetime.
Word Count: 47
What is the wind whispering to me? The buzz of insects, what do they sing?
It's no longer pure love that burns. Only pure hatred remains.
Is there still a me inside of me?
(TW: Self harm imagery)
Google Doc containing links to all images used: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Lp_Yw0FdANbnskz9goqMltmGk1LNkpGLIlp-Mr1Ozco/edit?usp=sha...
Who am I?
Well, that's an interesting question. Before you all ask- yes, for once this IS a true story.
Not romance, sorry
Rock the boat then test the waters, blue. Stirring the quiet into ripples that echo on cue.
Screw living by other people’s wishes. Live for YOURSELF and find what YOU want to do!
Once in a theatre class that I was in, the professor told us to right a stream of consciousness that started with the words "I am" and she let me turn mine into a monologue for the final :') so she ei...
I was walking one day and this story is what I imagine when I think about what would’ve happened if I had stopped to talk to that stranger I saw.
A short and sweet poem about how women shouldn't compare themselves to other women. A lot of women look to other women for things about them that they wish they had, but in reality, they're likely loo...
Type: Thought's Teaser
Description: We are observers, and the observed at one point or another. Serving a purpose unknown to us, that supports the eminent mission of our lifetime.
Word Count: 47
What is the wind whispering to me? The buzz of insects, what do they sing?
It's no longer pure love that burns. Only pure hatred remains.
Is there still a me inside of me?
(TW: Self harm imagery)
Google Doc containing links to all images used: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Lp_Yw0FdANbnskz9goqMltmGk1LNkpGLIlp-Mr1Ozco/edit?usp=sha...