floated to the statistics: Posted by Prodigalson — 1:11 AM - Today ..read more

Paper mill stationary statistics: Posted by Kent Jacobs — 21 seconds ago ..read more

Prodigalson wrote: ↑ 41 minutes ago Six paragraphs into the second section, is that supposed to be warn or worn? It's supposed to be 'worn'. Cheers! statistics: Posted by Kent Jacobs — 2 minutes ago ..read more

Notes are good. I lost all three copies of my manuscript (freak accident) and notes at 70,000 words. Had to rewrite it all from memory. Now I keep things separate. statistics: Posted by Prodigalson — 2 minutes ago ..read more

Kool-aid I was once like you. I sipped the Kool-aid instead of shooting it, slowly and continuously poisoning myself, leaving myself just enough “me” to not notice how sick I was becoming inside. There were moments I wondered, what was wrong, but I’d heard suffering was what we were supposed to do, so brushed those thoughts away like cobwebs from a doorway, never realizing the importance of what they were telling me. I dwelt in the caves of reason and logic, and shame. Those dark places that felt real enough to keep me from knowing who and what I really was. statistics: Posted by brianpatri ..read more

The Stream Don’t let the meditation be the practice, let it hold down the giant just long enough to piss him off and expose himself to you— make him offer up the secrets he’s been hiding in his pockets, under his hat, behind his beard. There’s a world he doesn’t know he knows under those things. A stream he’s keeping you from dipping your toes in and washing away the dust you’ve collected along the desert road, stretching to eternity. The river doesn’t care if you’re right or if you’re wrong; darkness and light are two sides of the same coin, tossed into the wind that doesn’t care either, b ..read more

 Kisses   Slowly, like the lips of a seductress The black car moves, flowers tumbling over Windsor ... The flock toss petal kisses upon the frowns of a nation. Sun-pressed tears glisten, caress cheeks of an era lost. Crayon letters—the pin, the rock— flutter amid litter of goodbyes. statistics: Posted by Kent Jacobs — 20 minutes ago ..read more

“You’re not making much sense.” John7 stood, rounded the table and settled behind Simone, a hand placed gently on either shoulder. “Just relax.” He oozed patronage. “Take your time, dear.  What about the look in the boy’s eyes?” “What is this? Twenty questions?” She shrugged off his hands. “I told you. I can’t explain. I wish I could. It’s been bothering me all day. Don’t you think I’d explain if I could?” “I don’t know, dear. I often get the feeling you’re hiding secrets.” “Am I not allowed to keep some things to myself?” “Yes, of course. But there are some things better shared ..read more

Prodigalson wrote: ↑ 6:15 AM - Today One of the main comments I had when I was sharing the work in progress was that I needed to flesh things out more but it was just supposed to be a letter to a daughter I've never met and it's ended up being 100,000 words...If I had fleshed it out it would have been double that, quite a lot for a first book (or for a letter!). Jesus, that's a lot of writing. I've attempted 3 novels, none of them getting past 150,000. Next time I try one I'll make notes. That was the main reason I came to a grinding hault.  statistics: Posted by Kent Jacobs — 54 minute ..read more

You been up all night or just getting up? statistics: Posted by Prodigalson — 6:30 AM - Today ..read more