Well here we are, a year into creative writing. All of misconstrued, every comment is creative writing based on my liberal view of writing. In fact, since the begining, we've had over 1.6 Million hits. Over 100,000 Visits. And over 3000 comments left! Impresive indeed... many people come and go without ever saying anything. But there are those who share... those who create. And we've had well over 200 pieces of creative writing submitted in the last year.
I have added a "feature" to the site so you can easily find old Creative Writing. Here is where it will take you.
I will reprint what has been viewed by most my best creative writing for the year. Really anything good for me is a miracle, since all my writings are done while driving to work in the morning... i.e. there is only 20 minutes of work into all of them.... Anyway, enjoy this classic, (Thoughts of the Withering in Autumn) and enjoy all the old classics.
Would you like to see all of these writings in print? Well it could happen if there is interest...
Thoughts of the Withering in Autumn
As the chill of the early Autumn Morning struck my face, an inrush of thoughts hit me. But there was a tinge of happiness in me just to have the blessing of feeling that cool, moist fall morning air. Its sad I thought of how really this was a rarity now, to experiences these commonalities. But since I had been put in the home, really self being as I had known it had disappeared.
The morning chill brought back an inrush of thoughts and emotions.
Of childhood, those mornings getting on the bus, dreading the day ahead of school. That fog that often hung through the valley on those cool fall mornings. It was always disappointing, visions of disappearing as I would pass into the fog, but really it was always so clear when you walked into it.
I thought back to those days of college, when the feel of fall beaconed in the days of football, of what is really needless priority. But something that would really bring happiness to those cool, evenings … bringing in the vast array of fall colors, both on the field and off.
It used to be so great to go see those games with dad. Yes joyful indeed. The cheering the excitement. How I have missed him through the past several years. The pain the lonliness.
But loneliness is not a new feeling. With the passing of Charlotte a couple of years of go, there has never been such a presence of loneliness in my life. Especially now that they have put me here, where loneliness abounds. There are many here, but we remain incapacitated to care for ourselves, but our drive to do so creates distant stares; not allowing the person next to us enter or ever be a friend.
My dear Charlotte, the years of happiness. The fall was always a special time for us, walks through the forest floor of leaves. Just the sound of the cracking leaves and her happy laughs in my mind cant help but bring a smile to my face and a tear to my eye!
I’m sure my children had my best interest in mind as they brought me here. That wretchedly cold late fall morning they brought me here I don’t like to recount. It had been 2 years since that day. But because of the stroke I guess they had no choice. It’s amazing to me how each event in your life can change things forever. But now I just sit here thinking my own thoughts…
“Sir its time to take you back in now, don’t want you to stay out to long in this cold morning air; you may catch your deaths cold” stated the nurse.
…the thought almost seemed peaceful now. If I could only let her know that the fresh air, the sparkling shimmer of water on the grass, the cascading light through the foggy morning air brought me a moment of happiness; a moment to reflect on those days gone: These things gave me a temporary feeling of those important people being back, a feeling of reason to be…
How I wished that someone would visit soon. How I wished that I could let them know I was happy when they came. How I wish that the day would soon come when once again I would be able to climb as a stag, see my loved ones, and not be a victim of this worlds sickness and my loved ones rushed lifes.
I don't like you, you don't like me,
so lets dispense with the pleasantries,
clear the air of the fake smiles,
the laughs, the jokes, the comments on style.
Its obvious we can never be friends,
because we both know it all depends,
on who's willing to go the extra mile,
and the only place I'm going for you is away,
to the other side of the room,
go brighten somebody else's day.
I don't have time to condition my face,
to make my mind embrace,
your weak attempt to conversate.
Aww, you don't like me, should i be hurt?
Should I feel like this little thing won't work?
Too late, I hate you more than you hate me
And no matter how much you may berate me
behind closed doors to your peers,
friends and associates, its clear,
that you've got nothing better to do
then to reciprocate the feelings of I-hate-you.
If I saw you fall down in the desert alone,
I'd just keep walking till I got to your home,
break your air condition, cut off your water,
bash the refrigerator, and take all your ice cubes,
take all your drinks, and your frozen foods,
and then I'd help you get home,
and when you thought I'd left you alone,
I'd be watching hoping to see your frustration,
at being able to solve your dehydration,
then I'd bring over a glass and drink,
in front of your face, just to make you think.
Think about your hate, let it fill your heart,
think about how much you want to tear me apart,
how much you wish you could make me cry,
think about how glad you'll be when you see me die.
Then stop, and realize what you've become,
Because with your hate, you and I become one.
OK...Never go to the desert with Javann!! :^)
Posted by: Ana at August 19, 2004 01:03 PM